Tumgik
#clint barton one shot
amasterpieceofmadness · 2 months
Text
showers - clint b.
Tumblr media
pairings Clint Barton x fem!reader
warnings 18+, smut, shower sex, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it), slight praise kink, fingering, sweet ending
summary Your bodyguard Clint joins in on a shower with you, leading to some intimate time between the two of you…
wordcount 2.7k
_______
Clint has been my bodyguard for like 4 months. And we are getting along rather well. Probably a bit too well. It’s hard to deny the attraction we feel for each other, stolen glances and lingering looks… But we both know that nothing should happen between the two of us. Not only is he my bodyguard, but also would my uncle Tony (yes, the Tony Stark) rip Clint’s head off if he ever lays hand on me. So, we keep our distance. At least we try. But in the last couple of weeks, it got really hard for the both of us. The tension between us is palpable once we are alone together and his eyes linger on my body for a second too long every time I walk past him. I can’t say that I don’t like this. In fact, I glance at him every now and then too, drooling over his muscles every time he flexes them.
Right now, I’m doing my usual workout in the training room, Clint watching me from afar. Of course, he tries to not make it too obvious and not stare, but he also can’t tear his eyes away from my curves. The way my body moves and my skin is shiny due to the thin layer of sweat covering it. My sports clothes hugging my curves tightly and I’m panting a little. Clint can’t help himself but let his mind wander how my body would feel like under him…
I pull him out of his trance as I walk over to him to grab my water bottle. Clint clears his throat as I do so and looks away, not wanting to make it obvious he watched me the whole time. I can’t help but look at his features though, his dirty blonde hair, his beautiful blue eyes I could drown in, his kissable lips, his strong and puffy chest… I shake my head to get those thoughts out of my mind. “I’m done. We can leave” I tell him and my bodyguard gives a small nod of approving. I walk ahead straight to my rooms in the tower, closely followed by Clint. It could be worse for him than to walk behind him, as he can glance at my ass the whole time. And I know that he does it all the time so I make sure to swing my hips on purpose. Clint smirks softly as he knows exactly what I’m doing, yet he doesn’t say anything.
Once we are in my rooms I walk straight to the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower” Clint sits down on the couch, he always does this once we are alone in my rooms, since he knows that this is (more or less) a safe space and he doesn’t need to be too alerted here all the time. He glances over at the door of the bathroom, which I just closed, and notices that I didn’t lock it. He is temped to just walk in on me but he tries to stay professional. The consequences would be just too bad. Or maybe it’s worth it? No, no he can’t do that. He can’t… or can he? He thinks of the way my body moved in your workout earlier and how he imagined things with me…
Suddenly Clint finds himself infront of the bathroom door. His hand is moving to the doorknob but he hesitates. What would I do if he just walked in there? But maybe, just maybe, I want it too. The way I always looked at him and checked him out, or the way I purposefully wiggle my ass or scoot just a bit closer to him then necessary.
Finally Clint throws all his doubt aboard and opens the door. I turn around as I hear this and am rather surprised to find Clint standing there. Without a word he just walks in and closes the door again, standing there for a second. We just look at each other. After a moment I turn around again, facing my back to him. “Could you please help me open this?” I ask, wanting him to help me open my bra, which I could definitely do on my own of course.
Clint swallows and comes over, his body almost pressed against my back. He then uses both his hands to undo my bra, his hands softly brushing against my skin in the process. I let my bra slide down my arms and to the floor, still standing with my back to him. I then can feel his hands touching my back softly and carefully, as if to test the waters. How war am I willing to let him go? He glances over my shoulder to check if I’m still alright with his touch and he continues to move his hands across my naked back. They brush over my shoulders and down my arms and I feel shivers running through my body.
His hands slowly make their way down my arms onto my waist and slide to the front. I can feel him tense just slightly, not sure wether this is still okay. Little does he know that this is way more than okay. As he notices me leaning into him slightly he continues his touch and his hands move upwards, tracing over my breasts. His fingertips gently brush over my nipples and I let out a soft moan.
“How far will you let me go?” he whispers into my ear, his voice husky and slightly shaky.
I take this chance and turn around in his arms, facing him and looking right into his eyes. Clints eyes move down my body for a split second before looking back into my eyes. “As far as you want to go” I whisper back.
Clint smirks “Oh, you don’t know what you are getting yourself into” With that said Clints grip around me tightens, pulling me flush against his muscular body and pressing his lips against mine. The kiss catches me by surprise but I feel the heat rise inside of me and I immediately wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer and pressing my body against his. He let out a sigh at this and then breaks the kiss suddenly, pulling away. But before I can ask anything he pulls his shirt over his head and throws it aside carelessly before returning his body against mine, kissing me passionately again. Our bare chests are now pressed against each other and I let my hands fall from his neck down to his shoulders, over his chest. I can feel his muscles tense under my touch and I smirk softly into the kiss.
My hands wander further down, finding the waistband of his jeans and fiddling with the belt. Clint breaks the kiss shortly to kick off his shoes and he pushes his jeans down, throwing it to his tossed shirt. There is a prominent buldge in his pants and I bite my lip in anticipation. “What are you doing to me” He roams in my ear as his hands return on my body, caressing over my back down my waist to the waistband of my leggings. He stops and looks into my eyes, I simply nod and with that he gets me undressed quickly, pulling my underwear down at the same time. As I now stand naked infront of him I blush slightly and Clint places a hand onto my cheek, almost lovingly. “You are beautiful” he whispers before attacking my neck with wet, sloppy kisses.
“Take your pants off, now” I tell him impatiently.
Clint doesn’t hesitate and not a minute later we found ourselves in the shower, hot water covering both of our bodies while we make out passionately. His tongue explores my mouth, his hands grabbing my waist tightly as he pushes me back against the shower wall. I hiss at the coldness of the tiles but Clint’s body pressed against mine makes up for it. I can feel one of his hands sliding down over my hips and even further down between my legs. His fingertips trace circles on my thighs before dipping right between them, to my most sensitive area.
I let out a soft moan as I feel his touch against my clit and Clint smirks as he pushes one finger into my wet hole. I grip his shoulder for support, letting my head fall back against the wall as I close my eyes. He starts to move and soon adds another finger, working in and out of me at torturing slow pace. His thumb comes into contact with my clit, drawing circles onto it. “So good, baby” he whispers into my ear and it’s all so overwhelming. The heat building in my body is unbearable and I try to press him even closer to me, which makes Clint chuckle lowly. His eyes are checking my face, wanting to see every little twitch of my expressions as he works his fingers faster into me.
Soon I can feel myself getting closer to this sweet release. “God, Clint, I’m gonna cum.” My voice is shaky and not much more than a faint whisper as he curls his fingers to hit that good spot inside of my walls. I’m right there and Clint knows it, his fingers starting to move faster and his lips attack mine once again, muffling my moans as I fall over the edge, digging my nails into his shoulder blades.
Clint works me through my orgasm and slows down to let me catch my breath. I open my eyes to look at him. A huge, cocky smirk plasters his face and I can’t help but smirk a bit too. He then eases his fingers from me and looks me dead in the eyes as he sticks them into his mouth, lapping up my juices. It’s hypnotic to watch his tongue tracing over his fingers, licking them clean. “You taste so good” he groans in my ear before leaning in to press a kiss to my lips, letting myself taste on his tongue.
As he presses his body against mine I can feel the top of his length pressing against my wet core. I gasps but let him continue and he pushes the head of his cock into me. Immediately I’m clenching around him, my knees getting weaker, as I look up at him, my jaw dropped. Clint leans in and his lips brush my neck before he groans “Let me in, baby. Be a good girl and let me in.”
I clench even more at his words, feeling the desire in my body rise. I push my hips towards his, arching my back slightly to take more of him. He then starts to rock his hips, softly at first, his hands gripping my waist to steady me against the wall of the shower. My nails too dig into his skin, holding onto him as he thrusts in a steady rhythm. Water is splashing around us and running down our naked bodies.
I look up at him to meet his eyes. They are hungry for more, a wet strand of hair clinging to his forehead, water droplets running down his face. Clint grabs one of my legs and holds it up while his hips keep on moving into mine. I let out an incoherent babble of his name as his thrusts get harder, feeling my own wetness dripping down my thighs. My fingers move to his hair, pulling lightly on his strands as he keeps a steady pace. His cock filling me completely, hitting all the right spots, his muscles flexing with every move he makes.
“You feel so good” I moan out, letting my head rest against the tiles behind me once again, closing my eyes to get lost in the feeling of his thick length spreading me apart, ruining me for every other man.
“You’re so tight and wet” His voice is low and husky and as I reopen my eyes he stares right into them. His stare causing a shiver to run down my spine and I unwillingly clench around him more. A smirk forms on his face as he thrusts into me with such force it leaves me breathless. My jaw drops and as he sees my reaction he does it again. And again, and again. It makes me gasp and cling onto him. “Look at me. Look at me when you cum, baby” he whispers into my ear, his breath tickling my neck. He pants between every word, feeling himself close as well.
When I cum with a broken cry, my whole body starting to shake and my brain turning into mush, Clint doesn’t let up. If anything his thrusts get even harder, faster, deeper. The feeling is overwhelming and I’m a shuddering mess pressed between the wall and Clints hot body. “Please” I cry out, not sure what I’m actually begging for. Hearing my plea he starts to fuck into me more desperately, his thrusts start getting sloppier, his rhythm faltering. He closes his eyes as he cums, pushing himself as deep as possible into my cunt. He lets out a raspy groan as his thick ropes cover my walls.
We are both breathing heavily as we are coming down from our highs. The water continues to run down our bodies, washing away the sweat on our skin. He pulls himself out of me slowly and carefully. I remain leaned against the wall, not having the strength to stand on my own right now. Clint leans in to press a surprising soft  kiss to my lips before looking at me with a proud smirk on his face. “That was good”
I chuckle and nod softly “Yeah, it was”
He smiles softly at me, his hands still at my hips, steading me. “Let’s get you cleaned up”
Clint starts to shampoo my hair and caress my skin. A hum leaves my lips and I lean into his touch, enjoying the feeling of the hot water and his hands all over me.
Soon we get out of the shower and Clint wraps me into a towel before drying himself off as well. As I’m detangling my hair he wraps his arms around me from the back, pressing a soft kiss to my naked shoulder. “We should do this again. If Tony won’t rip my head off, of course”
I chuckle softly and turn around to look at him. “There is no chance I’m going to tell him” I smile at him and wrap my arms around his neck, before pressing another soft kiss to his lips.
His arms too wrap around me, pulling me close. “Good thing”
AN: Okayyy so, here's my first smut ever! Let me know what you think ^^ I'm just in love with Clint and there are definitely not enough fics with him Luckily I'm here to change that and give him some appreciation! :D
Here is my complete masterlist with all the ff, imagines, oneshots, smut and whatever. Check it out and leave a like :)
46 notes · View notes
never--doubt · 2 months
Text
Kisses on the Temple
Tumblr media
Summary: Four times Clint kissed your temple, and one time you kissed his.
Pairing: Clint Barton x GN!Reader 
Words: 2,216
Warnings: injury, angst and comfort, fluff
This is my January story for my Year of Types of Kisses! I am doing a year long challenge focusing on just different kinds of kisses: you can find the masterlist here!
Feedback fuels me!
Tumblr media
One: the time you barely remember.
You held your ribs, groaning softly. You could feel the dirt and rocks and tree roots under you, digging into several places that made the radiating pain only worse.
Over the comms, you could hear Nat yell, “Y/N is down!”
“Y/N!!” Clint cried, making you wince.
“Calm down, Barton,” Steve ordered. “Focus.”
“Y/N, talk to me,” Clint said, ignoring the others.
Raising a hand to the comms, you replied, “I’m alive. Just bruised and sore.”
“They most likely have broken ribs, given the distance they were thrown,” FRIDAY informed over the comms.
“Not helping,” you muttered, opening your eyes. You could see the canopy of trees above you, the sunlight filtering down through the leaves.
It was calming, pretty, if you were honest with yourself. If it wasn’t for the sound of your other team members fighting around you and through your earpiece.
“Y/N!” you heard Clint scream, not over the comms now.
You tried to look towards the fight, groaning in pain at the movement and letting your head fall back down. A moment later, You heard knees skid on the dirt, and Clint’s face appeared in your vision. His eyes darted over you hovering but not touching. “Where does it hurt? Are you okay?”
“Everywhere, and not really,” you ground out, trying to breath normally.
“Area clear,” FRIDAY called over comms to everyone.
“How’s Y/N looking?” Tony asked, now that the enemies were finished.
“We need to get them back to base,” Clint stated, not taking his eyes off of you.
Natasha appeared behind Clint, a worried furrow on her brow. “We have pain meds in the jet until we can back. Can you walk?”
“Considering I can’t sit up? Gonna say no,” you responded, your gaze flickering between them both.
“Okay,” Clint muttered, leaning down. “I’ll carry you.”
Nat picked up his bow, telling the others, “On our way back to the jet. Let medical know Y/N is coming in.”
“I’m sure it’s-” You winced in pain as Clint picked you up, the movement sending a sharp pain through your body. “Nothing!”
“Definitely not nothing,” he responded softly, holding you close. “You’ll be okay, though.”
You let out a slow breath, trying to focus on your breaths, Clint’s breaths even, rather than the awful pain.
The three of you got to the jet faster than you thought it would take, but you knew the pain was probably distorting time.
You sucked in a breath as Clint laid you down on one of the few flat surfaced, clenching your jaw. You could hear Steve calling someone, and Natasha talking to Tony as well, but the pain was blurring any sense of the words they were actually saying.
You could feel someone’s hand on your face, stroking your cheek gently. You focused on their touch as the pain of being moved faded, letting you blink and look up at Clint, who was kneeling beside you. “Hey,” you muttered.
His eyes met yours, and he smiled, though you could tell it was forced, barely covering the worry clear on his face. “Hey there,” he murmured back. “We’re on the way back now. You’ll be okay.”
“Of course I will be,” you sighed, letting your eyes close slowly. “You’re gonna make sure I am.”
“Damn right I am,” he stated softly.
You could feel a pressure on your temple, your conscious whispering how someone had just kissed your temple. More importantly, Clint had kissed your temple.
You were unconscious before you could fully grasp what had happened.
Tumblr media
Two: the first time you did remember.
“So you’re really alright?”
You laughed softly from the bed in medical, trying to ignore the beeping of the monitor to your right. “Yes, Nat. FRIDAY was right, just a few broken ribs along with heavy bruising.”
“Okay good,” she smiled. “Wouldn’t want you down for too long.”
“Oh, I’ll be down for a while,” you stated, shaking your head. “Doctor wants me to rest fully, not pull my back on top of this.”
“Good, you better rest,” she replied, leaning over and squeezing your hand. “Someone has been missing you, and worried crazy.”
You git your lip, feeling your stomach twist at the mention of him. “Really?”
“I swear,” Nat stated, before glancing at the time. “Actually…”
There was a knock on the door, making your eyes snap to it.
“There he is,” Natasha continued, standing from her chair and letting your hand go. “Come in!”
The door swung open, and you met the familiar eyes of Clint, who smiled softly. “Hey,” he muttered.
“Hi,” you replied, twisting your hands into the sheets.
“Sorry to leave, I have a meeting with Steve,” Nat commented, moving towards the door. “You two have fun.”
She closed the door before either of you two could reply, only making you more nervous. Why were you feeling this way only now, after knowing him for so long?
“Sorry I haven’t visited,” Clint stated, moving to the chair and sitting slowly. “There was a...weird mission.”
“Tony told me,” you laughed. “He said they sent you because no one else wanted to deal with it?”
Clint rolled his eyes, his smile growing. “Basically. I’m the last resort, it’s ridiculous!”
You giggled softly, shaking your head. “Well, at least you’re back now.”
“That I am,” he muttered, his eyes flickering over you. “How are you feeling?”
Sore, but better,” you stated. “I’ll be okay.”
“Thank god,” sighed in relief, leaning over and kissing your temple. “You scared me.”
You paused at the action, but looked at him as he sat comfortably, his hand gently taking yours. Now that you were awake, conscious entirely of the action, you...weren’t nervous like you had been. It didn’t feel unnatural, it felt the opposite.
It felt right.
Smiling softly, you took his hand, squeezing it as his fingers intertwined with yours. “So, have all of you made some sort of promise that I’m not to be left alone?”
“Listen, it was Nat’s idea. She said-”
You raised your eyebrows. “So it was your idea, then.”
“Okay, well-” You laughed, watching Clint’s smile grow. He squeezed your fingers, muttering. “No need to call me out like that.”
Tumblr media
Three: when things between you started to change.
You brought the spoon full of cereal to your lips, staring at the screen in front of you as you scrolled through news articles.
“Remind me why I haven’t sued Fox News yet?” Tony asked from the kitchen.
“Because it would start a lawsuit battle that would never end, sir,” FRIDAY replied.
He groaned, leaning against the counter and facing you. “How bad is it?”
“The people who hate you actually...hate the article?” you replied, glancing at him with confusion.
He threw up his hands, moving around the counter. “What the hell?!”
You laughed softly, closing the article as Clint moved into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. “Morning,” he muttered.
“Morning,” you replied, glancing at him.
Clint smiled almost immediately, walking towards you. “How are you feeling?”
“Great,” you stated, smiling back. “Slept like a baby, back is fine.”
“Good,” he sighed, resting a hand on the back of your chair. He leaned down and kissed your temple, making your face flush at the action around others. “We still on for our date tonight?”
“Movie and pizza,” you grinned.
He smiled back, before moving to the kitchen past Tony, who was staring at you with raised eyebrows. Your face warmed further, and you focused back on your breakfast, ignoring him.
Tumblr media
Four: when the kisses became natural.
It was team movie night, Tony complaints about the home theater not getting enough use from anyone finally getting too much for you all to hear. So a night was picked, a movie was voted on, and plenty of snacks were bought.
There were a two loveseats in the room, but mostly single chairs, overall more than enough spots for everyone to sit. Tony and Pepper claimed one loveseat, while the rest of the team left the other open completely for you and Clint.
You were relieved that everyone supported you both in the relationship you two had stumbled into. Natasha was your biggest supporter, to no one’s surprise.
As you settled into the seat, Clint arrived with an armful of snacks, making you giggle and shake your head, taking your drink and the large bowl of popcorn so he could sit.
“What? I get hungry,” he muttered, relaxing into the space beside you.
You threw the blanket you had grabbed over his lap, cuddling into his side as his arm slid over your shoulders naturally. “I know,” you replied, your smile wide. “How you were balancing it all just looked ridiculous.”
“Well excuse me for wanting to make sure we get all the snacks we want,” he teased. “Cause I’m not getting up during the movie.”
You giggled softly, burying your head in his shoulder. “You better not.”
Clint had quickly become your biggest comfort, and you his. After missions or on bad days, you two usually ended up curled into each other in either his room or your own, just taking comfort in the warmth and presence of the other.
He chuckled, the vibrations going through his shoulder, and you felt him kiss your temple. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m not moving.”
Your smile grew, and you lifted your head to kiss his cheek as Tony yelled, “Okay! Settle down, the movie’s starting!”
Tumblr media
One: when you were scared to loose him.
You swung at the soldier to your right, shifting focus immediately as he fell to the ground. As you kicked the soldier to your left, you could see Clint in your peripheral vision. You watched, almost in slow motion, as one of the soldiers around you both grabbed one of the fallen guns, turning to the man you loved.
“No!” you screamed as the shot was fired, watching Clint recoil, his free hand moving to his shoulder.
The world seemed to move slowly as he fell to the concrete, and you rammed into the soldier that had shot him. With a swift upper cut, the offender was out cold, leaving you to turn to Clint, blood staining the front of his shirt.
“Clint is down!” you cried into the comms, skidding to his side. “I repeat, Clint is shot and down!”
Dropping your hand from your ear, you cupped his cheek, feeling your own hands shake. “Stay with me, baby,” you muttered, your eyes darting over his face, looking for any sing of life. “Clint, please, please…”
He groaned under you, his eyes fluttering open and meeting your own. “That fucking hurt.”
“On my way!” Steve yelled through the comms.
You laughed in relief, ignoring the tears streaming down your face. “I need to check if it’s a through-and-through, okay? Hold still.”
He nodded, and you slid your hand along his back, trying to feel for blood. He winced as you felt liquid, your fingers then hovering over the exit would. He cursed loudly, but you couldn’t help but sigh in relief.
“Okay, that’s good, baby,” you muttered.
He groaned in response, just as Steve jumped down the staircase, running towards you both. “How bad?” he asked you.
“Through-and-through in the shoulder,” you informed him, keeping your gaze on Clint. “He’s already bleeding heavily, though, he’ll need medical attention right away.”
You barely saw Steve turn away, saying over the comms, “Get to the Quin Jet, everyone! We gotta get medical help.”
You ignored any responses, stroking Clint’s cheek. “It’ll be okay,” you whispered. “You’ll be alright.”
It felt like a blur, getting Clint into the jet and back to base, all you could think about was how he needed to be okay.
He had to be.
Natasha rubbed your back as you stared at the door to the surgery wing, neither of you willing to move until the doctor came out and said Clint was alright.
Eventually, the doors opened, the doctor taking off his mask as he approached you both. You stood immediately, asking, “Is he alright?”
“He will be. The bullet didn’t hit any major muscles or veins, Barton was lucky. He’ll just need rest, and physical therapy afterwards.”
You sighed in relief as Nat asked, “Is he awake?”
“Not yet, but you both can go see him. He’s in room 2.”
He walked away, and your friend turned to you, smiling softly. “Go sit with him, I’ll go tell the team and come back with food.”
You nodded numbly and darted to Room 2. Stepping inside slowly, you nearly cried at the sight of Clint asleep in the bed, his shoulder bandaged.
Padding to his side that wasn’t injured, you pulled the chair up, taking his hand and cupping his cheek. “Scared me there,” you whispered, gently kissing his temple.
Under you, Clint took a slow breath before saying hoarsely, “Isn’t that my move?”
You laughed, letting a tear escape your hold as you met his eyes, smiling. “So sue me for stealing your habit. We spend enough time together, it was bound to happen.”
He smiled softly, squeezing your hand. “Fine, fair enough. Now come here and give me a real kiss.”
You giggled and leaned down, doing just that, relieved beyond words that he was okay.
Tumblr media
Feedback fuels me!
I do not use a tag list anymore, due to tumblr's new posting system.
23 notes · View notes
saltsicklover · 10 months
Text
˖⁺‧₊˚ Marvel Master List ˚₊‧⁺˖
⋆。°✩ Welcome to the Marvel Master List! ✩°。⋆
- Send Me a Message to be Added to the Tag List -
˖⁺‧₊ Key₊‧⁺˖
♡ xFem!Reader
☁︎ xDisabled!Reader
ꨄ︎ Soulmate AU
Tumblr media
˚✧ Bruce Banner ✧˚
Tumblr media
₊✧ Bucky Barnes ✧₊
Tumblr media
°˖⁺➳ Clint Barton ➳⁺˖°
Tumblr media
✧˖° Jeremy Renner °˖✧
70 notes · View notes
vilentia · 10 months
Text
Two Worlds Embrace
Clint Barton x reader
Tumblr media
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the tranquil scene as you sat on the porch swing, gently swaying back and forth. Clint Barton, the man you loved, joined you, his eyes reflecting the fading light. You had been together for three beautiful years, but the past still lingered between you.
As the two of you held hands, the soft breeze whispered through the trees, carrying a mix of emotions. You remembered the day you had met Clint, when the weight of the Blip still burdened his soul. He had lost his family, and you had been his solace during those dark times. But now, a new chapter was about to unfold.
The sound of a car approaching interrupted the peaceful silence, and your heart skipped a beat. A mix of anticipation and anxiety coursed through your veins as you stood up, tightening your grip on Clint's hand. The car door opened, and there they were—the family Clint had lost five years ago.
Tears welled up in Clint's eyes as he saw his wife, Laura, step out, followed by his children. You felt a pang of insecurity, fearing that the rekindled presence of his family would make him question your place in his life.
Clint turned to you, his gaze filled with a mix of emotions. "Y/N, I... I don't know what to say," he whispered, his voice trembling.
You gave him a reassuring smile, squeezing his hand gently. "Clint, they're your family. It's okay to be overwhelmed. Just remember, I'll always be here for you, no matter what happens."
As his family approached, Clint's grip on your hand tightened, his knuckles turning white. Laura embraced him, tears streaming down her face, and his children rushed into his arms. The reunion was bittersweet, a blend of joy and grief.
Days turned into weeks, and Clint found himself torn between his love for you and the deep bond he shared with his family. He spent every waking moment trying to find a balance, but it seemed impossible. Your insecurities grew with each passing day, and you couldn't help but wonder if you were just a temporary placeholder until his family returned.
One evening, after a particularly emotionally taxing day, Clint sought you out. His face was etched with lines of weariness, his eyes filled with an unspoken conflict. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.
"Y/N, I need to talk to you," he began, his voice tinged with sadness. "These past few weeks have been overwhelming, and I've been torn between the love I have for my family and the love I have for you."
Your heart sank, and you held your breath, preparing for the words you feared would come next.
"But," Clint continued, his gaze locking with yours, "I can't deny the profound impact you've had on my life. You've been my anchor, my source of strength when I had lost everything. I don't want to let go of what we have."
Relief washed over you, but a trace of uncertainty remained. "Clint, what does that mean for us? What about your family?"
Clint's eyes softened as he reached for your hands, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I don't have all the answers, but I know that I want you in my life. We can navigate this together. I want to build a future with you, but I also want to reconnect with my family. It won't be easy, and it won't happen overnight, but I want to try."
The weight of his words lifted a burden from your shoulders, and a glimmer of hope ignited within you. Love had a way of persevering, even in the face of challenges.
With tears pooling in your eyes, you nodded, your voice filled with emotion. "Clint, I love you, and I want to fight for us. Let's take this one step at a time, supporting each other through it all."
Clint's smile was tender, filled with a mixture of gratitude and determination. "I promise, Y/N, I will do everything in my power to make this work. Our love is worth fighting for."
In that moment, you both knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but the love you shared was strong enough to withstand any obstacle. With renewed commitment and an unyielding bond, you embraced the uncertainties of the future, ready to navigate the complexities of Clint's rekindled family ties while cherishing the love you had found in each other.
As time passed, Clint's family began to notice the significant role you played in his life. Laura, his wife, observed the way Clint's smile brightened whenever he was with you. His children, though initially confused, saw the genuine happiness you brought to their father's eyes.
One day, during a family gathering, Laura approached you, her eyes filled with kindness and understanding. "Y/N, I want to thank you for being there for Clint when he needed someone the most. I can see how much he cares about you."
You smiled, grateful for her understanding. "Laura, I care about him too. I want what's best for Clint and your family."
She nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. "I believe that you bring him a different kind of happiness, a new chapter in his life. I hope you'll continue to be there for him, just as he'll be there for us."
Clint's children, witnessing their mother's acceptance, gradually warmed up to you as well. They saw the love and support you offered their father, and in time, they began to consider you a significant part of their lives too.
While there were moments of adjustment and occasional insecurities, Clint's family slowly came to accept the depth of his feelings for you and the importance of your place in his life. It wasn't an easy journey, but love had a way of bridging gaps and healing wounds.
In the end, Clint's family and your relationship with him found a delicate equilibrium. They understood that your love wasn't a threat to their bond; it was a new connection that brought happiness to their beloved father and husband. And as the days turned into years, you continued to navigate the complexities together, creating a blended family rooted in love, understanding, and mutual respect.
31 notes · View notes
skellyagogo · 1 year
Text
Clint Barton- What Are We?
Tumblr media
*Inspired by 'Tell Me You Love Me' by James Smith*
His head was pounding, sweat dripping down his chest and back. Clint kept rubbing his eyes & squinting but his vision was still fuzzy and unclear. His stomach rolling & churning. He couldn't shake it, couldn't ignore or wish it away, his body had succumbed to illness. Exhausted he just wanted to sleep but he trudged through the Compound by passing his room in favor of hers.
There was no knocking, no formalities. Clint entered her room with an air of belonging & shuffled pathetically across the room toward her bed flopping down face first. Half asleep and fully clothed, his body awkwardly angled taking up most of the bed like a scraggly starfish. It was still warm but she wasn't in it. Noise from the bathroom on the other side of the room. He let out a pitiful groan announcing his presence.
"Clint?" Her voice was like honey in a hot cup of tea making him shiver wanting it more than he could explain in words.
Inaudibly moaning, maybe he spoke some words or maybe he just thought them. Groaning at the sensation of her hand on his back, or maybe it was the fever and his brain playing tricks again. The whole flight back from the mission he could have sworn he heard her singing in the back of the Quinn.
"You're drenched... off!" She was about to yell about his sweat all over her clean bedding when he started coughing, attempting, and failing to stand up.
The cough was deep and haggard, a wet phlegmy sound. The cough shook his whole body and the bed. He'd always been stubborn that was the bulk of his witty personality but somehow the way he was moving or lack thereof was the most vulnerable she'd ever seen. Sighing when the back of her hand pressed against his forehead, skin still damp & cool from washing her hands.
"You're burning up."
Clint tried to stand again, his body swaying. The pictures hung on her walls & ceiling spinning round and round. She did the best she could sitting him up on the edge of her bed, and stripping off his sweat-drenched gear. His eyes barely open, his mouth moving as if he was speaking but nothing coming out besides the lopsided smirk. That kinda smirk he flashed when he was being flirty with her.
There wasn't much of a struggle tucking him beneath the blankets, head nestled on a plush pillow. No complaining from him as she got him to swallow some cold medicine or drink some water. Only a pouty frown when she tried to walk away. Clint had a weak hold on her wrist.
"Stay."
He was curled around her the moment she lay next to him beneath the covers. Arms around her, head on her chest. His mouth parted, nose too stuffed up to breathe right. Clint managed to mumble out a soft 'love you' before passing out completely. Running her fingers through his hair almost falling asleep herself when the vibration of her phone caught her attention.
"Sorry Nat, I uh have a slightly feverish assassin squishing hold of me right now."
"Mhm, figured he'd sleep it off alone like he usually does. Guess that means you guys are a serious deal if he's letting you see him like this." Natasha laughing on the other end of the line.
"I don't understand what this is," gesturing between herself and Clint despite Nat not being able to see it. "Sometimes we're friends, sometimes just coworkers, other times he can't keep his hands off me, and then the next I'm like a stranger to him."
"That's classic Barton though. He wants to be loved but his past constantly makes him believe he's not worth it. Have you guys even talked about what you are?" If Nat was asking it meant either he had talked with her about it or ignored the question anytime Nat asked him.
"I've tried, he just gets uncomfortable, cracks some jokes and casually changes the conversation. I mean... he says my name & I love you in his sleep but ... I don't know. How do you talk to someone constantly in fight or flight mode?"
"He loves you, just in his whole little Barton way." Nat snickered though annoyance was definitely in her tone.
"You think so?"
"If he didn't he wouldn't be in your room right now. Last time he was sick we had to get Cap to forcibly carry him down to medical. He must trust you because he doesn't like people to see that he's... human ya know? Good luck." Ending their call.
Running her fingers through his hair smiling at how peaceful he was. Millions of freckles sprinkled along his skin, just a hint of a sunburn. Chapped lips that twitched in his sleep as if he was on the verge of smiling or dreaming of something pleasant.
"I wish I knew what we were." Getting comfortable beside Clint and slowly falling asleep.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
She was awoken by the sounds of retching from her bathroom. Her hand reached out to find nothing beside her. It took her a moment to wake up and realize Clint wasn't there, jumping out of bed & rushing to the bathroom. Clint on his knees hunched over in front of the toilet throwing up.
Kneeling beside him rubbing his back, his whole body drenched in sweat & burning hot. Her eyes wandered toward all the silvery scars that littered his back. Clint seemed to be covered in them from head to toe. Some were deep and jagged like they healed improperly, but most were years old from a childhood he'd never wish upon another soul.
She knew he couldn't remember where most of the scars came from but the oldest of them he could never forget. A terrible childhood with an alcoholic abusive father, years as a runaway in the circus, and betrayal from his brother. He'd told her of them late one night as they laid out on the rooftop unable to sleep staring up at the stars. The kind of conversation that happened because of comfort & exhaustion. So tired that walls crumble and secrets come out.
That night though, Clint seemed as if a weight had finally been lifted from finally speaking aloud the horrors of his early life. He could talk about those traumas but yet defining what they were or even calling her his girlfriend was too complicated.
"I'm sorry," he groaned weakly attempting to stand. His body wavered, almost falling if it hadn't been for her nudging him to lean against the bathroom counter.
"You're sick, nothing to be sorry about." Wiping his face with a wet cloth, but even sick that man somehow managed to look like a Greek God.
His skin was slick and clammy, dark circles under his eyes but they stayed laser-focused on her. She was the only thing in his vision that wasn't blurry or spinning like a kaleidoscope.
"You know what I mean sweetheart." Regret flooded his eyes.
"Come lay back down, you're feverish."
"You're not my girlfriend." Clint laid an unsteady hand on her cheek.
Gutted, absolutely gutted. The air sucked from her lungs, her failed attempt to keep him from seeing the disappointment on her face.
"Before you get all in your head let me finish." A meek smile flashed over his lips. "I'm not... the best at this kinda thing, never had a good example of what this sort of thing was supposed to be or look like but you ... us ... you're it. The only, the last, the forever, so I can't call you my girlfriend when you're more than that."
Closing her eyes leaning into him. The feeling of his arms wrapping around her, the soft kiss on her temple. They both breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it was better that way, his little ramble letting it all out. Telling her the words that weighed on him for ages, but they always sounded wrong in his head. Like they weren't the right words to use but he meant them never-the-less.
"Back to bed," ruffling his hair feeling as if she could have taken on the world at that moment. "You need to rest."
"See!" Smirking as she tugged him back towards her bed. "This is why I love you, you know the way to my heart."
46 notes · View notes
Ice Cream- Clint Barton
Tumblr media
Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader
Characters: Clint Barton
Warnings: N/A
Request: Anon-  Clint Barton (Marvel) + “pregnant” please? Thank you!! 🖤
Word Count: 413
Author: Charlotte
Lazy days had been becoming more and more frequent as you got further into your pregnancy. All your energy was going into growing and developing body parts for the ungrateful parasite inside of you, leaving you exhausted and in pain from the slightest thing. Even just lying on the sofa watching a movie with your husband left you wondering if you could make it to the bathroom every time you needed to pee. 
Clint was falling asleep watching the chick flick you had picked whilst you were getting over emotional over the main protagonists of the film admitting their love for one another. 
“Ice cream would be perfect now,” you said dreamily, already tasting the mint chocolate chip ice cream on your tongue. 
“There’s some in the freezer,” Clint said creating a yawn as he stretched out his limbs, squashing you on the sofa. 
Even though he wasn’t looking at you, you began to flutter your eyelashes at your husband. “Can you get it?” You asked with a sing song voice. 
Clint didn’t open his eyes. “You know where it is.”
Instantly it felt as though you were seeing red, as though all your fury and frustration had bubbles up with you and was ready to spill out in your husband’s direction. Clint quickly realised he’d messed up. With your hormones completely out of whack, sometimes you were irrational but the fact that you were pregnant, you let the emotional misbalance reign free until it settled, and you’d apologise after. 
“I’m-“ Clint tried to speak but his words were lodged in his throat and you were quick to speak over the croak he was managing to make. 
“If you can get me pregnant, you can get me ice cream,” you snapped, the tears bubbling up in your eyes, past the tearful movie scene, to an emotional outpour. 
Clint shot up, stumbling from his place beside you on the sofa, waking himself up with a start. 
“I’m sorry,” he said, speeding from the room to grab the one thing that your mind was desperate to consume. Like a flash he returned with a pint of ice cream and a spoon. 
“Are you sorry for getting me pregnant or sorry for not getting the ice cream quickly?” You huffed. 
“Which do you want me to be sorry for?” He asked, watching you rip the lid from the ice cream like a rabid beast. 
You scooped a heaped spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. “Both.”
23 notes · View notes
Text
If (S)he Be Worthy (Part 2)
Tumblr media
A/N: Part 1 posted here 
Darcy groaned as she came to her head was killing her and by the way her nostrils burned she could tell she was in a hospital (antiseptic makes the worst air freshener). Her whole body hurt, why did she feel like she had just gotten hit by a truck? Oh yeah, jackbooted thugs. She bolted upright remembering what the thugs had said “find her”. She yanked her IV out and was working on the numerous sticky leads on her chest and abdomen. That’s when she noticed the man standing in the corner of the room, watching silently with one eyebrow ticked up in curiosity. Darcy froze then, squinting at the figure. It was hard to see without her glasses but he seemed familiar, then it clicked, she would remember those muscular arms anywhere. 
“Holy crap you’re Hawkeye!” She blurted, her panic replaced with awe. “Ugh I wish I had my glasses so I could ogle you properly.” Darcy frowned then, she had not meant to say that last part out loud, damn pain medications. The archer stayed silent crossing his arms, which he most certainly had not flexed, that had to be Darcy’s crazy medicated brain. She swallowed hard, she would not drool over a blurry Hawkeye, she would not! 
“Fuck, Jane! I gotta get to Jane!” She started to climb out of bed remembering what the armed men had said. 
He was on her then, grabbing hold of her shoulders and nudging her back into the hospital bed. She pushed back, admittedly she was pretty weak at the moment and she ignored the pain that jolted up her left arm. “No you don’t get it, they wanted her not me! They’re gonna go after her!” 
Hawkeye pushed on her shoulders again and held, effectively holding her down. She tried to ignore how his hands made her feel, the weight was nice, calming. She blinked hard, coming back to the present where apparently he was talking to her. 
“Thor is taking care of Jane, he’s taking her to an undisclosed location where she will be safe and the rest of the team is handling the Hydra operatives that invaded the lab.” 
Darcy let out a relieved sigh. She knew Thor would take care of Jane no matter what. She visibly deflated, the adrenaline leaving her body, leaving her with a throbbing ache all over her body. Her head was pounding. She groaned the shrill noise of the monitor’s that she had unplugged herself from was not helping her head.
Hawkeye began to silence the machines, the noise dimming. That’s when she noticed it, the flatline’s steady beep. She could’ve died, she almost died. Mew Mew had saved her, saved her from dying. Darcy couldn’t breathe, she was shaking, her vision going dark, the panic closing in. She felt those strong hands on her cheeks then, heard the soft murmur of someone speaking, saying calming things. She fought the darkness, focusing on the voice. 
“It’s okay Darcy, just try to follow my breathing. In and out, in and out…” 
She tried to do as the voice instructed, her breathing was shaky. Slowly but surely, with the archer’s help she regulated her breathing. 
“That’s it Darcy, nice and slow, you’re safe.”
Her tunnel vision faded and she focused her eyes on the man before her. His face was so close to hers that even without her glasses she could discern his features clearly. His skin was tanned, he had blonde stubble on his face, like he hadn’t shaved in a few days. How long had he been here? How long had she been out? His eyes were blue, his nose had clearly been broken numerous times, its shaft not completely straight. It only made him more handsome, Darcy thought, she wanted to boop it. The thought of booping an Avenger made her laugh internally.
“You with me sweetheart?” Hawkeye asked drawing her from her thoughts. 
She tried to smile reassuringly, stopping suddenly when she felt a cut on her cheekbone stretch painfully. She nodded silently, not trusting her brain to mouth filter to work correctly. His hands left her face then and he pressed the call button next to her bed. The nurse entered the room promptly, frowning at Darcy and Hawkeye disapprovingly. 
“You just stood there and let her rip out her IV?” She muttered as the started to place the sticky leads back to Darcy’s chest. The archer turned his head, giving her a modicum of privacy as the nurse pulled her gown down attaching the remaining leads to her abdomen. 
“I don’t think anyone has ever let her do anything in her life.” He replied barely loud enough for Darcy to hear. She smirked at the man, ignoring the pain as the nurse inserted her IV again. As soon as the needle was reinserted she felt the pain medication start it’s magic. She sighed and laid back into bed, watching as the nurse frowned at Hawkeye again before leaving. 
Her eyes began to droop, her lids becoming heavy and brain becoming foggy. She didn’t want to go back to sleep, she wanted to know how Jane was, to know what happened. She wanted to see Thor, she had so many questions. She must have voiced her thoughts because the Avenger standing in the corner spoke up then. 
“Thor said he would come visit you as soon as he returned. Said no one was to speak with you about the incident until then, whatever that means.” He muttered the last part of the sentence to himself but Darcy still heard him. 
“Oh you don’t know?” She asked a loopy grin on her face
The archer quirked his eyebrow questioningly. She was starting to become attached to that eyebrow, it was so cute. 
She yawned “I’m a princess.” 
And with that she fell asleep, missing the incredulous look on the archer’s face. 
9 notes · View notes
literaryavenger · 18 days
Text
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.
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
Tumblr media
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 there 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 to 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 your light 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’re 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 tried 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 were 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 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 conversations get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversations 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 his face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels it’s cold like ice.
His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope seeing as 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 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 thinking 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, 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 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 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 are you talking about?” 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 saying, 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.
836 notes · View notes
aleochemax · 5 months
Text
I think ‘olympic athlete level-fit, greatest marksman alive, incredibly skilled, dangerous, honed weapon’ Clint Barton and ‘perpetual fuck-up, coffee-spilling, can’t untangle his PS4 wires, would risk his life for his dog’ Clint Barton are equally enlightened interpretations of Hawkeye and should not be mutually exclusive
519 notes · View notes
olsenmyolsen · 6 months
Text
Ups and Downs Pt. II
Tumblr media
master list
dark master list
Slight MCU AU (Female Reader X Natasha Romanoff)
Be sure to read part one!
Summary: Your neighbor across the hall isn't anything like you thought she'd be.
Word Count: 4.7K
TW: Men, Guns, Violence, Bad Flirting, Fighting, Shooting, Blood, Feelings, Needles
Tumblr media
Of course, the day you met the prettiest girl possibly in the whole entire world. You were also in a shootout with a spy.
Okay, yes, the spy and the girl are one in the same, but you get my point.
"How long ago was the guy here?"
"I-uh.." Since Nat's hands and sweet voice were all over and around your body, you truly lost any concept of time.
Nat ignored your non-answer as she looks out the window where her sniper is positioned before turning to you with a worried look.
"Y/N GET DOWN!"
You barely had time to move your body before the windows next to Nat exploded, sending you, her, and pieces of glass flying everywhere. Her body lands on its back in front of yours. New forming cuts already on her face. "Nat?!" You asked, sounding muffled due to the ringing in your ears.
Shit, a lot of you will hurt tomorrow if you get through this.
"Ow.." Nat blinks, her eyes opening as she wipes the blood from her forehead. Before she looks you over, making sure you're not harmed. "I gotta say that looks a lot cooler in the movies." You state.
"Yeah, I know." As if Natasha watches anything but classic James Bond. "Okay, Y/N, listen to me." She gets up on her knees in front of you but keeps you down low to the floor. Her hand on your back provides you with reassurance. Plus, it feels nice.
Should I tell her that my throat needs to be reassured?
"They blew out the windows because they saw me. If I know them.. and I do. They're about to send in smoke bombs. Try and flush us out. Whatever you do, regulate your breathing. Okay. In fact..." Nat keeps the two of you low but begins to move you both back to the kitchen. "Here." She grabs her bag off the counter and throws it down. Nat reaches into a side pocket and pulls out a hard mask.
"Come here." Nat motions you to come closer, and like a good girl, you do. "You're going to wear this." Nat quickly wraps the mask around your face. "As you can tell, your vision will be slightly askew, but your breathing will be fine as long as you..." Nat trails as she raises her eyebrow.
Fuck she's so fucking calm right now, and it looks so fucking hot on her- oh, she's staring at me. Oh, uhhh-
"Keep my breathing regulated?" You answer, which earns a proud smile from Nat. "Yep. Good job." I am a good girl. You think with a smile.
"Wait!" You grab onto Nat's arm. She stops rummaging through the bag to look at you. "What about you? Do you have a mask?" Nat shakes her head at you. "I only have one. But don't worry." She smiles. "I've dealt with far worse."
Nat pulls out a pistol you hadn't seen before. She looks up and onto the dining room table. You follow her eyesight. The small silver discs. "I can grab them."
"No, wait!"
You go to reach forward but get yanked back by Nat. A sniper shot rings out, the bullet going through the wood right where your hand would've been. "You okay?" She asks with a soft gaze, looking into your mask. You nod, even though you're growing more scared by the minute. "Shit, they have more than I thought." Nat rubs her hand up and down your back while she thinks. You believe this action to be absent-minded. But Natasha knows you are scared. The last thing she needs is for you to be scared and get hurt or, worse, killed.
So she's thinking of you first.
"Why haven't they fired the gas yet?" You ask. Nat looks at you before looking at the window. "They're playing a game. Shit.." Nat bites her lip and thinks.
You see her biting her lip, and you start thinking, too.
But you both aren't thinking remotely the same things.
"They're trying to draw you out. They know you're here with me." Nat looks at you. "Give me your hand." You hold it out for her as she takes your wrist and gently places the pistol she had behind her back in your hand.
"This is a Beretta 92. It's a very accurate close-range weapon. Okay? Keep it low. Away from yourself and me."
"What, Nat, I can't-"
"It holds 15 rounds. When the magazine empties, this thing will slide lock back like this." She shows you. Keeping her eyes on you instead of the gun. You look at her as she repeats the action.
"Natalie, I don't think I can do this."
"Natasha." She replies.
"What?" You tilt your head, confused. "Natalie is a cover. Natasha is my real name."
Unbeknownst to you is that Natasha still wasn't even her legal name.
You don't miss a beat before replying with: "You look prettier as a Natasha anyways."
"Really flirting? Now?" You shrug. "I've been flirting all along. It's about time you caught on." Even though you most certainly HAVE NOT been flirting this whole time. "So, is that what you call it?"
Natasha wins this battle.
"Look at the gun, Y/N." She coos you. You move your eyes to the gun as Nat holds your hand with hers. Showing you the first few steps again.
"Okay, now to reload-"
Nat gets interrupted as three canisters shoot through the broken windows. The second they land, they start leaking smoke. "Don't be scared." You go to argue that you're not, but with a smile, Nat raises her eyebrows, earning a scoff from you. Sassy even in a life-or-death situation.
"Okay, to reload. Push this down." She begins to talk faster as you both can sense that instruction time will be over soon. So she pushes your hand. "The empty mag will fall out, and then you shove the other one in. Like replacing batteries in a flashlight. Okay?" She asks as the smoke creeps into the kitchen. You nod, feeling the weight of the gun in your hand when Nat removes hers.
"Nat, I don't think I can do this. Shooting people." You clarify. Nat turns and looks into your eyes as the sound of men marching up your apartment building becomes louder and louder. "Okay, Y/N, listen to me." She grabs the sides of your mask so you can look into her emerald eyes.
Okay, how is she hotter now that she's covered in bruises and blood? Will I look hotter if I'm covered in bruises and blood?
Should I ask?
"Y/N, listen to me! These men are coming in here to kill you and me. I will do everything in my power to protect you, but in the event that I'm not able to, I'm trusting you to be able to defend yourself. Okay? Don't use it unless you have to." You nod with a dumb grin on your face that, thankfully, Natasha could not see, or else she would think you really were hopeless. "Most importantly, don't move unless I tell you to. Please don't do anything besides shoot this gun unless I tell you to. I say duck, what do you do?"
"Duck... Goose." You joke, but before Natasha could scold you, the front door to the apartment flies off its hinges. However, thankfully, the smoke has now possessed the room, covering for you and Natasha...
...Natasha?
You look to your right to see no one next to you.
Great, even in a shootout, you can't keep a girl.
You sigh and stay still as heavy footsteps are heard entering the apartment. You do your best to count, and you assume five men are now here to kill you. You stay still on the floor in the corner of the kitchen when you hear one of the men speak up. "Come on out with your friend, little widow! We promise not to hurt her."
You rolled your eyes through the mask, and that's when you heard two shots being fired off before a loud thud hit the floor across the apartment.
"How did she do that?!" You hear a heavily accented man yell before a multitude of bullets are fired from an automatic weapon.
However, instead of Natasha getting hit, she jumps up off the coffee table in the middle of the living room and knees one of the men in the nose. Making him stagger back in pain, leaving him little time to think as she attaches a widow bite disc to the man, shocking him to the floor but not before grabbing his pistol and aiming it at the other man in the room, sending one shot to his thigh and the other to his left shoulder before she empties the magazine and throws the pistol at the guy's face knocking him out.
Two more men to go.
Lucky for Natasha, the shooting and her elegant, quick movements confused the last two dummies. Plus, with their own smoke, it makes it impossible to see someone as highly trained as The Black Widow.
You nearly jump when Natasha slides on the kitchen floor before you. You go to speak, but Natasha signals with her hands to zip it.
You nod and try to think about how good she looks, kicking these guy's ass.
Natasha puts a hand in front of your face, making you focus up. You okay? She asks with her hands. You nod, making the redhead spy smile.
A genuine smile, too.
And even though she said it earlier, that's when you truly realize that Natasha is protecting you. Whether it's her job or not, you like to believe it's because she cares for you. Even if just a little bit.
Your beliefs would be correct.
However, before you could ask Natasha if she was doing okay or what her favorite color is, you watch her take off running. The smoke in the room shoots out and away from Natasha. You watch in amazement as Natasha jumps and wraps her legs around a man's head before spinning the top half of her body around, sending the man head first into the floor. His nose breaking on impact. Her landing on her feet.
Is it weird that you want that done to you?
"Your friends are taken care of. So I suggest you come out and let me kick your ass too." Natasha speaks aloud with her back facing you to the last man standing as the smoke in the room clears.
You stand up from the ground and take a step towards Nat. The gun still tightly gripped in your hand. Your eyes remain on Natasha as she starts to walk back towards you; however, before she turns around, your body gets hit with a force from the side. Launching your head into the cabinets to your left.
"Ow fucker!" You yell!
The crashing sound and your curse alerting Natasha. The larger man places his hand on your mask and pushes your head into the cabinet again, this time making it bleed as his other hand reaches for your gun. "Give up!" He yells before removing his hand from your mask to punch you in the side of your body. You groan and stumble.
He reels back to hit you again, but instead, Natasha rips the gun from your hand with efficiency and pistol whips the man in the face, sending him flying back. The man yells in pain as he readies himself to fight, but Natasha is fast. She runs and kicks the guy in his ankle, making him fall to his knee. She smirks as he yells out in pain before she double kicks him in the throat, making him fall as he begins to choke.
Before anger entirely overtakes Natasha, she hears you crash to the floor behind her. When Natasha turns around, she sees blood on the sides of the counter.
"Y/N!" Natasha runs to your side and drops the gun next to the two of you. Instantly, she's ripping the gas mask off of you and turning your head. "Let me see." She gingerly pulls your chin, making you look away so she can examine the extent of your head injury. "It doesn't look deep. But we need to stop the bleeding."
Natasha quickly looks around the damaged kitchen before finding a forgotten rag. She places it on your head and hates how you wince in pain.
"Keep your hand here." Natasha takes your left hand and places it over the rag over the cut. "Be honest.." You start as Natasha looks over the rest of you.
"Do I look cool or like dogshit?"
Natasha's lips crack into a smile at your joke. "You look so cool," Natasha says, whether it was true or not. "You took some hits, too. Impressive." Natasha says with a smile. "Yeah, well, someone didn't yell Goose." You playfully hit Natasha's leg with your foot.
"Next time." She says.
"Oh! Next time?" You say and continue. "Planning on our next date being another shootout?" You raise an eyebrow but wince when you move your head a bit too much at the moment, saving Natasha from seeing her blush.
"Who said anything about a date?" Natasha quips. You knew it was coming, but you still had a smile. "You're right. I guess shootouts aren't a good date idea. I'll pick something better for, let's say... Friday?" You laughed at your own joke per usual, but ended up coughing in pain. Not per usual.
Natasha's hands immediately went to the hem of your shirt before you reacted. "Hey. What did I say? We haven't had our date yet." Natasha thought it was cute but still rolled her eyes. "I need to check to ensure you're not bleeding internally."
"Can you really tell?" You questioned. "No. But I know a thing or two more than you, so let me look." She had you there. So, with your permission, Natasha slowly lifted your shirt but made a face when she saw your red skin already bruising and enlarging. "It's not awful, but it's going to hurt a lot before it gets better."
Natasha places her hand over the area and begins to rub. "Does it hurt here?" She lays a small out of pressure, forcing you to nod in pain. "Not at all." You whine and clench your jaw. "Okay... I'm going to call this in. Get us evac'd."
Your eyes widened not because of Natasha's words but because of the guy behind Natasha. Yes, the one she kicked in the throat started to get up. "Natasha..." You said, making her look into your eyes. "What's wrong?"
She noticed how you looked.
Natasha turned behind her to see the man perched up on his good knee. Gun in hand. She immediately puts her body directly in front of yours.
"Step aside, widow. Let me kill this one without trouble."
"Not going to let that happen." Natasha reached behind her and expertly grabbed the gun she gave you earlier from the floor and pulled it in front of her, not wasting another breath as she fired the weapon twice—one into the man's chest and the other directly into the man's head.
From her crouched position, she got up with precision and made it to the man on the floor. She kicked the smoking gun out of his hand and made sure he was... Wait- smoking gun?
Natasha looked from the gun to you.
Fear ran through her body as she saw your figure slumped over on the floor in a bigger pool of your own blood.
Natasha would've ran to your body if this would've been her first time in a position like this, but it wasn't. She had saved countless people before, and she was not about to lose you!
So Natasha ran to her bag and rifled through a side pocket until she found her phone and a needle of Tetrodotoxin B. A drug developed by Bruce Banner with the idea of slowing his heart rate to one beat per minute. Natasha didn't know if it worked on Bruce or not, but she knew SHEILD had it for some reason.
Right now, that reason was going to be you.
As Natasha flicked the end of the needle and pulled your arm out in front of you, she called Clint on speaker phone. "Sorry if this hurts," Natasha said to your now unconscious body. Her eyes watering.
"Hello?"
"Go secure!" Natasha yelled as she sat your body up and ripped off the right half of your shirt to examine your bullet wound.
"Secure," Clint replied. "Shit!" Natasha replied, confusing the bow and arrow man. "Natasha?"
Nat looked at your head wound and the rest of your body. The Banner drug was going to help keep you alive, but you were still losing blood.
Natasha hated everything about this moment.
Ups and downs. The day Natasha met someone who didn't know who she was. The day she could actually see herself being around someone was also the day they were bleeding out in front of her.
"I need evac! Safehouse A is blown. Got caught up in a shoot out, and Y/N is hit."
She got up and went to look for whatever medical supplies she had in addition to any extra clothes to get you changed and wrapped your wound.
"Y/N?" Clint questioned. "Like the Golden retriever? The neighbor from across the hall?"
"Yep! She's not going to make it unless you send someone right now, Clint."Natasha didn't want to believe her words. Barton, for one thing, couldn't.
"Are you serious?"
"Serious as a God falling from the sky."
"Go to safe house B. Evac is on the way."
With that, the line clicked, and the call ended. Natasha did her best to dress your injuries before the only thing she was doing was watching how slow your breathing had become...
_
You woke up to bright lights above you and a horrible feeling in your nose... and head.... and shoulder... and side. Wow!
Wow.
Okay, so you actually had this horrible feeling called pain all over you.
You tried lifting your head to look around, but it felt like a ton of bricks was pushing on your skull. But you pushed through and found a short brown-haired man sitting in a chair by the only door in or out. "Who the fuck was he?" You thought and tried to speak, but your throat was too scratchy to say anything, making you cough.
The man in the chair looked up at the noise and noticed you.
He sent a quick message on his phone before closing it. He got up from his lazy position, running to your bedside table, and filled up a tiny paper cup full of water. "Here." He said as he held it in front of your lips.
You don't know if he didn't trust you or if your hands/arms were too weak. You didn't want to find out, so you took a sip from the cup and let the cold water run down your burning throat. "Thank you."
"Welcome." Silence. "Natasha should be down here soon. I let her know you woke up." You tilted your head and looked over the man, slightly nodding. "So you're Y/N?" He already knew, but Clint was happy he could talk to someone new for a change. Even if he did talk like an uncle, you don't see but once every couple of years.
"Where am I?" You ignored the man walking back to the chair near the door and asked.
"You're safe if that's your concern." He spoke, but you just sighed. "Anytime a woman is alone in a room with a man and he says something like that. It doesn't make her feel safe."
Clint bit his lip as he listened to your words before nodding along. "Can't argue with that." Clint got up again from the chair and made his way to you. Making you jump and look him over. "I'm Clint. I'm the one Natasha spoke to on the phone." You remembered the phone call before the windows blew out, but not much after getting your head thrown into a kitchen cabinet.
"Hi, Clint. Are you going to tell me where I am?" You asked in a tone more annoyed off than friendly. Clint smiled. "I see why Natasha likes you."
Now that got you interested!
But before you or Uncle Clint could say anything else, the door opened, and in ran Natasha. Her cuts are all covered by bandages, and her face clean from a shower. "How long has she been up?" Natasha passed her friend, stopping to stand next to you.
"I let you know the second she did." Clint smiled at you and Natasha. "I'll leave you to it." Natasha thanked Clint, and the two of you watched him leave the room.
"You probably feel like shit huh?" Natasha questioned, but as she reached to move a hair from your face, you backed away. Natasha didn't understand why. "Y/N?" She asked.
"Who are you?" You asked, making Natasha's jaw drop before she quickly recovered. Helen didn't mention any memory loss. Natasha looked away, a little hurt that this might be the case, but when she looked back, she saw you smiling. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Holding in a laugh.
Natasha figured it out.
"Fuck you!"
"I got you!" You laughed and cheered before wincing in pain and coughing. Making Natasha smile at the instant karma while getting you a cup of water. "Serves you right."
She held the cup up to your pink lips and watched a little spill out the corners of your mouth. She watched a droplet slide down your throat and disappear into your gown.
Your voice bringing Natasha back. "I just lived through many movie cliches. I HAD to do this one." You said, making Natasha smile and nod to you before she sat at the edge in the middle of the bed.
Natasha wanted to reach for your hand as silence enveloped the two of you. She wanted to tell you how close you were to dying or how scared she was. But Natasha didn't reach for your hand.
Instead, you reached for hers. 
"You know if a hot spy is going to come into my hospital room in an unknown location, the least she could do is hold my hand."
That made Natasha Romanoff blush.
"Hot spy, huh?" Natasha teased, but you just nodded, feeling confident. "Look in a mirror, Natasha." Natasha laughed. "Sometimes you really just don't stop flirting." That made you smile. Natasha didn't say it was lousy flirting. "Just wait till we start dating."
"Oh?" Natasha raised her eyebrow but hit back a smile. "Is that what we're going to do?"
"Yeah, remember, shootouts don't count. So Friday, you and I are going out." Natasha shook her head but didn't disagree. "You don't even know what day it is." That was true. "Friday...?" You looked at Natasha with hope, but she shook her head again. "Nope. Besides. I like it went my dates aren't still in a hospital bed." You sighed but internally screamed at Natasha, flirting back. Natasha watched you before turning away. Her thumb rubbed over yours.
"Hey.." Natasha started making you look at her. "I- I'm sorry for getting you involved in my mess. You-" Natasha stopped and pulled her hand away to rub her face. "You almost died because of me." Natasha felt guilty. She should've kicked you out the second you weren't a threat. Instead, she liked having your company. In the minutes you spent in Natasha's presence, she wanted to keep you around.
"Natasha." You reached out for her hand again and was surprised when she gave it to you. But you still pulled her hand, making her look to you. Her green eyes shining. You nodded for Natasha to scoot closer.
She did.
"Don't blame yourself." Natasha went to open her mouth, but you interrupted her. "There's no doubt I would be dead if you hadn't been there. Besides... I'm the curious one. I knocked on your door. I wanted to get to know you. I stuck around because I wanted to. My body hurts like hell. But I'm alive because of you."
Natasha didn't look entirely convinced, but that would come in time. It was sad to see this badass person beat herself up over something that wasn't your fault or hers. It just happened because of horrible people. "Can you at least do me something?" Natasha tilted her head. "What?"
"Can you at least tell yourself that you saved me?" That sounded like a big ask at the moment but not as big as the next thing. "And! Tell me that you actually enjoy my flirting because it's only going to get worse." That made Natasha throw her head back and laugh, making you smile.
You were so focused on Natasha that you didn't see the room door open.
"Oh wow, never thought I'd see the day. Natasha Romanoff laughing! Time!?!" The man with a striking anchor beard and a Tom Ford suit called out as he walked closer to the bed you laid in.
"Good to see you awake. It's nice to put a name to the face of my almost-dead Budapest employee."
Tony Stark looked you over as sassy as the man is known for before looking at Natasha, who was internally scolding him for mispronouncing Budapesht.
"Quite a catch, that one. So what's the diagnosis?! How long we got?" He picked up your chart and began flipping through paperwork he should not be looking at before Natasha took it. "Tony..." She sounded exhausted already. "What are you doing here?"
"I told you." He said, looking upset that your chart got taken away from him. "I came to see who was moving in."
If Tony Stark. Your boss. Who also happens to have a hobby of flying around in a gold and red suit wasn't shocking enough to you than that last sentence that he said was.
"Moving in?!?" You asked, shocked. Ton- Mr. Stark- no Iron Man..?! What were you supposed to call him?!
Mr. Tony Man looked from you to Natasha before saying: "Looks like you didn't tell the Misses." This made Natasha get up and grab the not-so-tin man by his collar, whispering methods of torture she would use if he didn't leave the two of you alone.
"I expect to see you at work once you make a full recovery!" Tony yelled and pointed at you before the redhead slammed the door in his face.
Natasha composed herself before turning to you, still wearing a shocked face. "Moving in?!?" You asked again. Natasha nodded as she walked to you. "Yes. We-" She sighed. "I thought it would be the safest option for you. Plus, you can recover here. You're back in the States." Natasha's words fell on the quiet side before she sat on the bed.
Closer to you this time. "I can think of a few other reasons.." You look at Natasha and smiled.
"You don't have to. If you want to leave or go back to Budapesht, I understand." Natasha wants you to know that there is no pressure to stay. But you already know this. If you wanted to get up right now and leave, Natasha would probably let you.
"Staying might be nice."
"Yeah?" Natasha looks hopeful. "Yeah." Natasha smiles and reaches her hand to your face. Moving a stray hair back behind your ear. "If you do stay, that means I can tell you the best part."
"Oh yeah? What's that?" You curiously ask as Natasha looks at you like she's got some big secret.
"I'd be your neighbor across the hall."
You were free to leave the hospital bed 4 days later.
The next day you moved in right across from Natasha Romanoff.
A week later you took her on a date.
Tumblr media
dividers by @/benkeibear
178 notes · View notes
Text
April Fools - Kate Bishop
Pairings: Kate Bishop x Fem! reader.
Warnings: Fluff, romantic comedy, cuteness overload because I miss Kate, reader is Spider-Girl.
Word count: 1765.
Tumblr media
Kate looks up from her place on the couch to see Y/n in the kitchen with Yelena teaching the blonde how to make her favorite dessert, Brazilian brigadeiro, after they made the whole dinner by themselves. Both were entertained as Y/n made little balls of chocolate and rolled on the sprinkles, completely unaware that Kate is observing Y/n’s every move.
“You look like a stalker,” Clint said next to her, making her, reluctantly, look at him with a questioning look. “Have you ever realized how much you stare Y/n? Every time move she makes is caught because you look at her like a motion detection camera.”
Kate opens her mouth to say something, but it closes quickly. There is nothing she can tell Clint to get out of this position, he caught her, and both know it. The raise of his eyebrow is enough evidence.
“Don’t you think it would be easier if you just talked to her?” He continues to question.
“She is my best friend, Clint.” Kate sighs, looking over her shoulder and seeing Y/n hand Yelena one small chocolate ball, the blonde caught it looking for a few seconds as if inspecting. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship, it’s better if we stay like this.”
“I think that’s stupid.” He bluntly says, shaking his head and sighing. “And you’ll just keep looking at her like a puppy waiting for an owner?”
“Yes.” She said without thinking much, before turning to him quickly. “Wait, that’s rude!”
“It’s the truth.”
“Oh, this is good!” Yelena says in the kitchen, and Kate looks back at them. Yelena has her eyes wide, one hand holding Y/n’s forearm and the other throwing the rest of the chocolate in her mouth. “This is very very good.”
“Right? Now you understand why it’s my favorite.” Y/n replies with a cute small laugh that makes Kate look at her yearning. “Now c’mon, help me make the rest.”
“She will find out, you’re very bad at hiding.” Clint was vocal again, but this time he was getting up, about to stop the commotion in the kitchen due to Yelena making another brigadeiro just to throw in her mouth. “Hey, get out of there, Yelena.”
“Shut up, these are made to be eaten.” Yelena narrows her eyes at him, challenging him.
“Go sit with Kate, Yelena, I will make some extra for you.” Y/n sighs as she points to the living room. “But only if you sit there and don’t steal more brigadeiros.”
“Fine.” She fake complains and gives Clint a hard stare as if saying ‘don’t you dare eat my damn chocolate’.
“Can you make little balls for me, Clint? I’ll make more for Yelena before she kills someone because of chocolate.” Y/n asks before showing Clint what needs to be done.
“Smart girl, I would not hesitate,” Yelena replies as she sits on the couch where the older archer had been before. “You were staring like a creep, Kate Bishop.”
Kate almost chokes on her saliva as she hears it. Not only her mentor, and best friend, had noticed, but now Yelena had noticed too. And maybe Clint was right, it wouldn’t be long until Y/n realizes as well.
Okay, she was a bit slower at noticing romantic advances and Kate would often give really good excuses for her staring, but she wasn’t stupid.
“Is it that obvious?” Kate asks and Yelena nods with a funny face.
“Maybe not to her yet, but she is a superhero. Quick thinking and all of that.”
“Goddamn it!” Kate complains putting her hands on her face with a sigh. “I’m doomed, Yelena.”
“Tomorrow is that day,” Yelena says, trying to remember. “April Fools, use that!”
Kate looks at Yelena clearly confused.
“Do I have to do everything? A prank, that is not a prank.” She rolls her eyes at Kate. “Jesus, Kate Bishop, love made you slow.”
“I’m both offended and grateful.” Kate said as she shook her head.
As the archer leaned her back into the sofa thinking about what she would do tomorrow. Yelena was right, she could use this opportunity to put up to test the strong chemistry between them, but Y/n didn’t make it much clear if she actually felt something romantic for Kate or just as a friend.
Yelena had left Kate’s apartment late at night, Clint went to sleep on Kate’s bed while Kate and Y/n had left early to go to her apartment. Y/n had inconveniently forgotten her Spider-Girl suit charging and the other one was still drying from when she accidentally fell at the lake. But it allowed Clint to have a better night’s rest with Lucky and no unstoppable laughs coming from the girls.
Kate woke up in the morning confused as to why Y/n was screaming her name in desperation, she sat up trying to open her eyes and focus on her distressed best friend.
“I’m up, what’s going on?” Kate asked shoving the covers to the side and getting up, almost falling in the process, vision still blurred.
“I lost my powers!” Y/n said and to make her point she tried to shoot a web and miserably failed.
“What?!”
“Exactly!” Y/n ran her hands through her hair, which was very disheveled. “I have no idea why this is happening, oh my god.”
Kate is still trying to process as she gets close and puts a hand on Y/n’s shoulder. “Is there something stressing you up? We will get to the bottom of this!”
“I mean, yes… My ex texted me saying they want us to get back.” Y/n sighed as she revealed.
“That little shit-“ Kate breathes in angrily. “I have excellent aim Y/n; I will shoot them!”
“Kate, there’s no-“ Y/n interrupts herself and scrunches her nose up, her mouth opening as she is clearly about to sneeze. “A-a-atchoo!”
Y/n sneezes and Kate’s face is suddenly full of webbing. Her best friend laughs out loud, helping to take out all the webbing covering her eyes, nose and mouth.
“Oops, I think it was webbing constipation.” Y/n defends herself poorly. “April fools!”
“Oh, you-!” Kate says as both manage to take the web out of her face, and she goes to the bathroom to take out the rest and brush her teeth, ignoring how Y/n’s cute smile released the whole zoo inside her stomach.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist!” Y/n defends herself, leaning on the door. “You always do something, so I wanted to get you first!”
Kate silently brushes her teeth taking the rest of the web and Y/n helps clean her hair. Kate finishes brushing her teeth and suddenly pulls the other close, pressing the spiderling against the sink, one hand on each side of the woman. Y/n’s demeanor changes immediately, eyes widening, breath hitching, cheeks burning crimson and making it very visible to the archer her frustration.
“You shouldn’t play with me like that, Y/n.” Kate says slowly, and Y/n visibly gulps looking deep into her dark blue eyes.
Kate’s fall comes quickly after that, Y/n forcefully changes their places and now the archer was the one being pressed against the sink, eyes wide in surprise at the overconfident way her best friend had done that.
“You accepted that the day you turned into my best friend, Bishop, you were very aware and if anything you think I'm funny as hell.”
Kate gulped, before blurting out. “I like you.” Y/n rolled her eyes as the other one added. “Romantically.”
“Haha, Kate, I already know it’s April Fools.” The spiderling answers, shaking her head. “C’mon I thought you could be more original.”
“I am being original; this is reverse April Fools.” Kate defended herself. “I’m telling the truth instead.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Y/n still didn’t believe her as she pulled away.
Kate then put both hands on the sides of Y/n’s face and pulled her in for a long peck. She felt Y/n get rigid, then sigh slightly as she relaxed, however as if a sudden bucket of cold water was thrown in her head, she gently pushed Kate back.
“Katherine!” She said with wide eyes and crimson cheeks.
“I am being serious now; I didn’t know how to tell you and Yelena suggested doing a prank that was real.” The archer started to talk, looking away a bit embarrassed. “I was planning on a more elaborate prank to see if you felt something for me too, but… I kind of lost my cool.”
“I…“ Y/n was speechless, finally downing on her what was happening.
“I am in love with you, reverse April fools!” Kate sings shaking her hands a bit as silence fills the room.
The other woman suddenly scoffs, shaking her head as she clearly cannot believe her ears. But it’s Kate that is shocked when she speaks again.
“It fucking took you long enough, Kate, seriously. Yelena had to suggest that? Jeez.” Y/n rolls her eyes as she gets closer and kisses Kate’s cheek. “I’m also in love with you, idiot.”
“I swear to god if you’re playing me right now-“ Kate narrows her eyes, getting distrustful.
“I will kiss you to prove it.” Y/n shrugged.
“A real one, no bromancing!” The archer raises an eyebrow, defying Y/n to do that. “Bromance without the bro.”
“…Mance?” Y/n asks in confusion.
“I meant romance actually.” Kate corrects herself, sheepishly.
“I think you should stop talking.” Y/n laughs as she shakes her head.
“I am trying to, but you’re taking too long to kiss me!” The other one defends herself yet again.
Y/n makes the last step and kisses Kate, first a long peck, but then both deepened the kiss putting all their bottled-up feelings into it. When they separated, breathing hard, both laughed.
“Okay, this really isn’t a prank.” Kate said, breathless as she looked lovingly into Y/n’s eyes.
“I’m not sure yet, I think you need to keep kissing me to try and convince me.” Y/n says, clearly not meaning it, but making more excuses to kiss Kate.
“Oh, how dreadful.” Kate replies, smiling. "Normally I'd say you need to put more trust in me but... I don't know, we need to really make sure this isn't a prank."
She had to remember to thank Yelena later, maybe pamper the shit out of her with some brigadeiros and spicy food as a thank you. She would definitely be happy with that.
In the meanwhile, Kate would take her time kissing her best friend, current lover, and future girlfriend. They obviously needed to make sure it wasn’t a prank (an excuse they would use even in the future).
475 notes · View notes
saltsicklover · 11 months
Text
The Same Stuff
Title: The Same Stuff
Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader (First Person)
Word Count: 6,320
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Age Gap (10 Years), Mentions of Death, Probably poorly written, not enough plot to justify the ending.
Disclaimer: I do not own Clint Barton, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.
I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.
You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that contains mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.
Life has been swimming past me since I was seventeen. All of the choices I have made, things I have accomplished, life I have lived were made in some sort of fugue state. I was there, I know that for sure, but one day- today- at twenty-four, I "woke up". I was no longer treading just to stay afloat. And maybe that would be okay, to wake up from a muddled dream to actually feel like my life was back in my control, if I hadn't found myself in this situation. A job interview for a position I am well underqualified for and applied to when I was too stoned to think of the crushing anxiety that I might have to endure for such a task. How hard could being a personal assistant be, anyway? 
I sit in a beautiful lobby, every part sparkling clean in the sunlight that drifts in through the wall of windows. I am completely underdressed, the dirt that has been worked into the threads of my jeans over years of wear is now meeting the white suede of the couch beneath me. Jeans, for a start, did not belong among the group of people I find myself in. Each person dressed in their business best, hoping to impress the interviewer and intimidate each other. My choice of jeans and long waffle shirt has earned more than their fair share of eyerolls. I wonder what they would say if they knew I washed my clothes at a laundromat. 
I look down to my boots, the crumbling mud falling onto the pristine marble floor. I can't help but muster a laugh at the sight. I have no briefcase, unlike the other interviewees, let alone any paperwork to hold. 
The bag I do carry is old, patches and visible mending holding it together. It was once my mother's, made for her by a man she worked with during what she called the Kermis days. As if the word spiced up what day to day life actually was for the two of us. We spent many hours under the big top, mending costumes and tending to the performers, most never knowing  a life without her, or me, as I held tightly to her skirts, afraid to lose her in the shuffle.
I remember how she used to cut their hair with swift movements of her scissors, and the way she used to tend to their blisters and new forming scars with careful touches of homemade salve. I dreamed of the smell night after night, the clover mixing with the leftover firework smoke, powdery and full. During the Kermis days, we never had to worry about the clothes we adorned our body with or the way in which we presented, all of the thoughts busied on the performers as they were sewn into their tight costumes. 
I left that life at seventeen, and life seemed to drift away from me. I loaded into a van with a couple of the token "gypsy girls" the derogatory term never escaping them for as long as they worked under that tent. We made our money reading tarot out of the back of the van and taking any odd job we could find as we drove cross country. "We will make it big in the city" We'd laugh like a prayer, each passing city limit sign feeling more like a death wish than a ticket to freedom. 
In the years since, we have all lived in a one bedroom apartment on the outskirts of the city, our revolving schedules and bed sharing became a sort of solstice as we eclipsed each other with tight hugs and well wished words for the days ahead. 
"Excuse me,  is there a Miss L/N? here" A neutral voice pulls me from my thoughts, dragging me back into the lobby, my eyes still glued on the dirt I've managed to knock from my boots. "Miss L/N?" 
"Oh! Hi! Yes I am here!" I stand quickly, absentmindedly pulling the sleeves of my shirt down over my hands, taking the cuffs into balls in my palms. A tall man in a almost fitting dark suit stands in front of the desk I checked in at about a half our ago. He looks at me, eyes wandering over my frame before gesturing me forward with the clipboard in his hands. 
I try not to think about the trail of crumbling earth I leave behind me as I walk to him. He turns on his heel, not bothering to speak another word. I follow him down a large hallway, glass on either side allowing for beautiful views of the city. I'd look out them, if I cared to know what the world looked like from this high up, but the anxiety that twists my stomach makes sure to keep my eyes trained on the back of the man's head. His dark hair is beginning to twist at the nape, overdue for a cut. I move a bit to the right of him as he shuffles along, glancing at the length of his too-long sideburns and the way they are beginning to hide the sides of his face.
"You need a haircut." The words slip from my lips before I can stop them. There is no sweetness to the comment, only blunt direction. The tone sounding more like my mother than myself. My eyes go wide as I slap a hand over my mouth. He turns to pull a door open, looking at me with scrutinizing eyes, narrow and impassive. 
"I'll take that into account," He deadpans with a crumpled up smirk. He quickly turns his attention inside the room, tilting his head to signal me inside. "Team, this is-" His voice moves to the background of my mind, introducing me to the group of people in the room before disappearing with the closing of the door. 
I drag my eyes across the panel of people sitting on the plush furniture. Each wears a sticky nametag, names drawn out in pen. Bruce a dark featured, handsome man sits on one of the armchairs, a clipboard in hand. A cute, deep skinned man sits on the sofa next to him, the name Sam scribbled across his nametag. Sat next Sam is a very muscular brunette wearing the name 'Bucky'. Next to him is a very normal appearing man wearing a bright smile, my eyes dash down to the nametag- Scott. An unassuming name for an unassuming man. My eyes wander over to the loveseat where a beautiful young girl is sitting, the name Kate on her nametag in scribbles. 
"Cricket?" A small voice whispers, sounding from the corner of the group. The nickname makes my heart jump, adrenaline soring through me at the drop of a hat. Cricket, a nickname I haven't heard since I left the big top. My gaze jumps from Kate to the man sitting next to her, his face a scrunched up mix of amazement and confusion. There is a murmur among the group as they look amongst each other for some sort of clarification. 
I finally make eye contact with the owner of the voice, bravery surging through me. I look over his features more closely this time. Time has written itself onto his soft features, dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. I would know those eyes anywhere, their soft blue gray burned into my memory.
"Frass," The name spills from my lips, the end catching in my throat a bit. We hold eye contact like it's fragile, too heavy to let go of, to break, eyes boring into each other's. The memories of us spill into my head like oil slick, slippery, coating any other thought with their sticky image. 
"You're going to hurt yourself if you keep trying to sew this up in the dark, and your Mama will have your head if I bleed on this costume," Clint scolds warningly, fidgeting beneath my touch. 
"Well if you stopped moving I could sew this up and get you out before your cue with a proper costume," I stitch the sleeve to the yolk of his shirt carefully, the needle moving easily through the fabric. I stand carefully on a stool to reach the rip with ease. "Or I can send you out there with it ripped and we can see who's head my mother will have then." The archer huffs out a mumble of an apology, bouncing carefully on his toes. I keep sewing, moving along with his gentle motions, careful not to poke him with the needle. 
"You know, you're pretty good at this for a kid." He sends the backhanded compliment my way, the words stinging my heart. I hum at him, a makeshift thank you. 
"You know, as the adult here, I could leave you to fix your own costume." I inform him, bite in my voice, pulling the last stitch through. He fumbles around with the bow in his hands, fingertips brushing over it's length. "And I am twelve, basically a teenager, not a kid, and my birthday is coming up. Next week. " I tell him, cutting the thread with my teeth. I whisper the last part, trying not to over hint. 
"Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Cricket." He laughs, turning to face me. I make a spin motion with my finger. He holds his arms out and spins, allowing me to take in the rest of his costume in full. 
"You're all set," I tell him, pushing the needle into the pincushion on my wrist. "Why do you call me that, anyway?" 
"You'd hate the reason, Cricket." He laughs again, brushing a hand through his spiky hair. I huff at the man as I climb off of the stool. "Okay fine, if you really want to know. It's because you've always been such a small thing, and you always hum while you work, just like your mom."  He states coolly. I can't help but roll my eyes. "See, I knew you'd hate it!" 
I pluck the stool from the ground as I turn to wander off. "You know what, Clint Francis," I turn back to him, now standing a few feet away, "Just for that, you've earned yourself a new nickname." He quirks an eyebrow at me, still visible in the low light behind the curtains as he tries to hide the disgust that flashes across his face from hearing his middle name. A devilish smirk creeps over my lips as I look at him. "Have a good show, Frass." I wave at him with a wiggle of my fingers. 
"What does that even mean? He questions me, eyebrows knit together but a small smile plays at his lips. I stop in my tracks, turning around to meet his gaze once more. 
"Francis the ass," I state, corners of my mouth curling up into a deeply devious smirk. I don't even wait for a response before I turn to leave. 
"Hey, Cricket!" He calls after me, "You're the most annoying kid sister I've ever had!" 
"Not your sister, Frass." I shout behind me as I push a curtain to the side, ready to disappear out into the lot. "Go shoot something, would you?"
I always knew my little crush on the much older boy was silly, something I was teased for by my mother. Maybe it wasn't even a crush, maybe it was a sort of knowing, that his soul and mine were made of the same stardust. My mom used to laugh when I'd say that, a knowing look falling over her features. "Whatever you say, sweet pea, whatever you say." She would repeat as she brushed her hands over my hair. "You can love him when you are an adult. Then ten years won't be such a big difference, okay?" I would roll my eyes at her, fingers working over a costume piece as I worked on my invisible stitches. 
Clint held a special place in my heart, a new sort of love I never knew how to name. Cashmere told me one night as she read my tarot that we had a destiny, the universe pulling us together. She said it in a teasing way, maybe to help justify my young feelings. Her words only cemented what I already knew, Clint and I came from the same stuff, the borealis where souls were made. Essence shimmering in the great nebula, stardust turned sentient.  
I counted down the days until adulthood, but I only made it 547 days before Clint left the circus, leaving me behind at the tender age of fourteen.
"Is anyone going to fill us in here?" Sam breaks the silence. I can't seem to look anywhere but Clint, my eyes tracing over his figure. He wears a dark purple tee-shirt and a pair of black cargo pants, his muscle visible beneath the clothing. I fight off a smile. 
"Right, right, hello." I finally speak to the rest of the room. I  turn to nod a 'thank you' to the man who walked me into the room only to find out he had already disappeared. I try to fight off the embarrassment that crawls over my skin, leaving pinpricks in it's wake, turning my skin a bright shade of crimson as I walk over to the empty armchair next to Bruce. "My name is Y/N L/N, it's nice to meet you all," I offer my kindest smile, eyes drawing themselves back to Clint. I want to hit him, or hug him, or both. Maybe I just crave the feeling of his skin. 
"And you're here for the job interview, right?" Bruce asks, his voice wavering slightly. I nod, running my sweat slick hands over the tops of my jeans. I look at Bruce, eyebrows raised in an attempt to seem inviting. I smile, but it doesn't quite reach my eyes. 
"I know we are supposed to ask questions about the interview, but I've gotta know more about what's going on here," Kate speaks as she looks around the room. She is picking at the ends of her hair with her fingertips like she is scrutinizing every split end.  Clint adverts his eyes at her words, focusing his line of sight straight at the floor in front of his feet. The group voices agreements with Kate as they look between us again, each deciding on who they want to focus on with a trained gaze. Thankfully almost everyone settles on Clint, eyeing him carefully, but he doesn't acknowledge them. 
"We sorta grew up together," I finally speak, folding my arms across my chest. "But, uhh, he left before I was grown." The tension in the air between us grows thicker the longer the silence lingers in the air. A guilty look falls over Clint's features, a blush crawling up from under the collar of his shirt. I stifle a laugh, if anyone should be embarrassed for how the situation went down, it should be me. But it's not like he would know anything of it. 
"Mom, what are you doing with Clint's costume?" I question her, pulling out a stool to sit at the table next to her. She is making quick work of pulling off all the sequence and trim, sorting them into piles, small and careful. She looks up at me with sad eyes, a smile pressed over the thin lines of her lips. 
"Oh Cricket, honey," She begins, tears welling up in her big brown eyes, "I don't know how to tell you this, but," She sets down the costume, holding her hands out to me. I take them cautiously, her bulbus joints creaking as she closes her hands around mine. "Clint left a couple of days ago, we were all hoping that he would be coming back, but there has been no sign of him. So, Mr. Carson is having me take his costume apart to save on materials for the new one we will have to make when they find someone to fill his place," She explains each bit slowly and carefully, running her thumbs over the backs of my hands to try and comfort the storm she knows is brewing within me. 
I can feel my chest tighten, tears pushing out through my tightly closed eyes. I don't want to believe her. Clint wouldn't just leave, especially without saying goodbye. I can feel a distant sob escape me, my head too clouded with thoughts. I can feel my mom pull me into her arms, snaking them around me in a tight embrace. She coos and shushes me as the tears stream down my face. 
That was the first of many instances like this that took over my life for the next sixteen months. 
I can feel the long forgotten emotions begin to wrap themselves around my ribcage, causing a cough to crawl up the dryness of my throat. "Anyway, let's get this interview going, shall we?" I ask, pulling a cheek numbing smile onto my face. I try and push down the hurt, but it just squeezed me tighter. 
"Of course," Sam coughs, clearing his throat of all the tension, "So, I suppose you know we are interviewing for an assistant. We are looking for someone to move into the compound up state and watch over everything up there. We all come and go so often for missions its hard to do simple things like grocery shopping. We try and keep up with each other's schedules, but we need someone to work as the go between when we aren't all in the same place. We do have a maid service, so you wouldn't need to worry about that." Sam explains, running a finger down his clipboard. 
"Okay, sounds easy enough." I acknowledge with a nod of my head.
"What kind of skills do you have?" Scott counters, "How would you be any better than the rest of the people we have already spoken to today?" His tone is curious, not at all daunting. 
"Well, I can cook, I can sew. I basically kept the big top turning after my mom passed away. That is, managing people time and making sure everyone was on the same page when shit hit the fan and we would have to move acts around." I explain, gesturing with my hands. "I am also quiet, and clean, despite my current appearance-" 
"Mama died?" 
"Clint, you were in a circus?" 
Bucky and Clint speak at the same time, interrupting me. I can feel his eyes burrowing into my profile, and I know that if I look I will see tears in his eyes. I couldn't handle that, I know I couldn't.
"Yes, she did. When I was fifteen." I explain, wringing my hands. I stifle down more feeling of hurt before I continue. "But as I was saying, I haven't had any complaints when it comes to roommates, and I keep my word. Clint can vouch for that one." I pin that on him, knowing that he owes me as much. His name left my lips and it felt clunky on my tongue. I haven't called him 'Clint' in years, and it hurt. 
The group gaze flickers over to Clint, and he just nods, a half hearted murmur crawling out of his lips. He has his head buried in his hands, elbows to knees. I can feel the pang of hurt run through me at the sight of him like this. It has always hurt the same way. 
"Well, this has been, interesting. I think we will cut it here, take a break. Thank you for coming in. We will give you a call when we make our final decision." Bruce speaks, pulling my attention to him. He stands, holding his hand out for me to shake. I take it with a firm squeeze, just how Clint taught me so many years ago. 
I bid the rest of the group goodbye before walking out the door. I follow back down the large hallway, the shock of the last fifteen minutes rising in me. By the time I reach the lobby, I can feel the broken pieces of my heart start to wobble in their place. After years of stuffing down the feelings of heartbreak and abandonment from Clint and his reaction to my mother's passing, all the old emotions seem to rush back through me. 
I know I shouldn't hurt, so much life has passed since it all happened, but all I can think of now is the pressure of it all against my ribcage and the ever looming prayer that repeats itself over and over and over again. "Do not call me, do not call me, do not call me." 
I duck into a nearby bathroom, crashing hard against the tile floor in front of the toilet before a mix of bile and anguish escapes me. I empty my stomach into the porcelain, the smell of lemon cleaner and bleach numbing the soreness of my chest. Tears leave hot, wet trails down my cheeks. 
All I can think about is the last encounter I had with Clint before he left the big top. The way he spoke to me, soft and feathery.
"Hey Cricket, can I ask you something?" Clint grabs my bicep as I walk by, a big bowl of chili in my hands. Everyone is gathered around a caravan, dinner being served before we turn in for the night. The show has long ended, the crowds disappearing with the smell of popcorn and sickly sweet cotton candy. 
"Yeah, Frass, what's up?" I peer up into his eyes, my heart thrumming against my chest. 
"Are you happy here?" He questions, not quite meeting my eyes. I scrunch my eyebrows with question, never having expected those words to come out of his mouth. I think over them for just a second, mulling thoughts turning over in my head like acrobats. 
"Of course I am," I chuckle a bit, "I can't imagine life anywhere else. This is all I've ever known, and these guys are my family, well  most of them anyway." I let my eyes graze over the group around us, taking in each of their faces in a brief sweep. A warm feeling blooms in my chest. 
Fourteen, living the life most people dream of, in love with a man I've known for most of my life, and a large chosen family, who wouldn't be happy with a life like mine? Clint lets out a strangled chuckle after a moment, his hand finally dropping from my arm only to run anxiously through his hair. I offer him a soft smile. 
"Yeah, of course." He answers after another moment, eyes finally catching mine. He reaches up carefully to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, the touch innocent and sweet. My smile blooms a bit wider. 
"You're really a good kid, you know that?" He offers, his words holding a bit of sadness even with the upturned swing of them as they leave his lips. 
"I'm not a kid, Frass" I remind him, pushing his shoulder. He just smiles down at me, squeezing my shoulder lightly before turning to the caravan. He walks away without another look back. 
A few days later, I sit in the bathtub at the apartment, fully clothed with no water in the tub. The only place with any sort of quiet. I turn the pages of the novel in my hand, reading the words but none of them make it to my brain. My mind keeps drifting back to the interview and how strange the whole situation was. 
It hit me yesterday, that the group was the Avengers, or what was left of them, I suppose. I interviewed for an assistant position with the damn Avengers, and Clint was there, barely making an effort to look at me. Maybe I shouldn't even be surprised with what the world has been through the past few years. At this point, you could tell me just about anything and I'd believe it. 
My phone rings loudly, vibrating against the bottom of the tub, causing me to jump.  I grab it quickly, answering it with a cool hello. 
"Hey, hi, is this Cricket, I mean, Y/N, is this Y/N?" I cringe a little at the nickname coming over the phone. 
"This is," I finally speak, my voice wavering in question, "How can I help you?" 
"This is Sam, from the job interview" He notifies me. I swallow thickly, a lump forming in my throat. 
"What can I do for you, Sam?" I wring my hands together, a new layer of sweat beginning to coat my palms. Fuck all of this nervous energy. 
"I am calling to offer you the job. We all talked after you left and Clint spoke so highly of you, I mean, we all agreed that there couldn't be anyone better for the job after he told us some stories." My blood runs cold at his words. I flip through the memories in my brain, trying to figure out what Clint might have told them. 
Before I can even think, the words leave my mouth like I am possessed. "Sam, I'd be honored to take the position." I later blame the hasty decision on the hunger that panged through me, and the yearning in my soul to be surrounded by people again, working and serving and creating. 
A month goes by and I have completely moved into the upstate compound. Life is different now, steady most days. I grocery shop and tidy up the messes the team leaves after they ravage the compound when they come home from missions. I cook for them too, even though Bruce insists it wasn't a part of my job. It feels right in my soul, so I do it anyway. 
I haven't seen Scott, Kate, or Sam since I moved into the compound. They have been on mission since shortly after my initial interview. I can't decide if that's better or worse than having Clint here, avoiding my eyes like he did before. We pass each other in the hall, or in the common areas, and each and every time he averts his eyes from me. I don't think he has said anything not work related to me since I moved in and it makes my soul ache. 
A few months go by and no progress has been made between us. I can't help but look at him, snagging glances as we pass each other, or in meetings. The compound seems lonelier when he is on mission, and I breathe easier when he is here. Maybe I should push past this childhood crush, even if that means breaking my own heart. 
I push the thought out of my head as I finish brushing my teeth. I spit the suds into the sink before rinsing out my mouth. I point at myself in the mirror, toothbrush still in hand. 
"Do not mourn those who are still living, it's a waste of precious heart space," I tell myself, repeating the words my Mom used to say to the performers after they went through breakups. She used to then turn to me and tell me not to date my coworkers, a goofy smile spread over her lips. I would roll my eyes at her. 
A knock at my door pulls me from the mirror pep talk. I throw my toothbrush back into the drawer before headed to the door. I pull it open, the sight of Clint greets me. I try and wipe the confused look from my face, the harsh line between my brows only easing slightly. 
"Hey," He whispers, avoiding my eyes. He fumbles with his hands a bit, pulling on his fingers. 
"Hi," I respond, the word barely loud enough to hear. 
"Can I come in?" He questions, eyes meeting the middle of my face, not quite making it to my eyes, but definitely closer this time. I step aside, pulling the door open wider in invitation. Clint pads into the room just far enough for me to close the door behind him. 
I look him over carefully as he stands awkwardly in my small living room. The dark colors of his clothes standing out against the light gray of the undecorated room. He looks like hell, deep lines of exhaustion making purchase over the tenderness of his features. The dark flesh under his eyes almost eclipse the pale blue of his iris's, offsetting their normally bright color. His hair stands up in all directions. Sweat and dirt coat his whole body, smudges greasy on the light skin of his face. 
"You look like hell, Frass," I finally speak. I want to reach out and touch him, run my thumbs over the fullness of his cheeks, the apex of his lips, allowing the dirt to coat my fingertips. He chuckles a bit, light and scratchy. 
"You look," He stumbles a bit, "Grown up," He finally decides on his words, bringing his lower lip between his teeth. 
"I'm sure I do, it's been a long time since we talked like this," My smile falters a bit, wavering at my words. My lungs burn in my chest. "You've grown into yourself, I think," I drink him in, dirt and all. He is even more handsome than he was back then, I think, or maybe it's because I now see him through the eyes of a women, the way he is meant to be seen. A bit of guilt settles in me for looking at him so unbashful, but as he stands here in my living room, I can't help but take him in. He can't run from my gaze here. 
He smiles at me this time, but its fleeting. The feeling that blooms in my chest however, isn't. 
"I came to ask you about something, but I'm not sure you're going to remember it," Clint looks almost defeated at the thought, and the look on his face crushes the joy in my chest just a little. 
"Okay." That's the only word I can manage. I nod, though, my lips falling into a small and tense almost-smile. 
"I talked to your Mom before I left," He starts, coughing a bit to try and clear the tension, "I asked her about a rumor that was going around." I nod at him, urging him to keep talking, "But she, she wouldn't tell me if it was true or not, so I guess I am asking you if it is." He takes a step closer but there is still a world of unknown space and unsaid words between us. 
I can barely think with his body this close to mine, the fog of decade old feelings clouding my judgement. It tastes sweet, nostalgic and comforting, like a glass of sun tea. 
"I heard that you used to say that we were made up of the same stuff. Something about souls being created together." He mumbles the words like he is unsure of how they are supposed to be said. I can feel pinpricks of a blush blooming over my skin. His words hang in the air between us, time stopping for just a moment, freezing us in place. 
Maybe, if this were eight, or four, or two years ago, I would crumble. If it was six months ago, I might be able to take them with a shot of forty proof nausea. But now, I only bristle a bit, more under his gaze than around his words.  
"Yeah, what about it?" I finally question. I hate the words as soon as I say them, wishing I could snatch them right out of the air. Erase them from our history. But I know if I could, I wouldn't stop, rewinding my life to the last conversation we had about happy lives and I would lie and tell him I was just as miserable as him, and maybe he would've taken me with him. 
"Did you mean it?" He looks pained, the words hanging over him, or maybe they are dragging him down. 
I laugh and it's the loudest sound that has occurred between us in years. 
"Frass, you came here to ask me about a childhood crush?" I lie a bit, the crush began in childhood, but I am still doing everything in my power to deny it's current existence. His eyes go a bit wide, but he tries to crinkle the rest of his expression to cover it up. I can't help but let a low chuckle fill the room again, the sound breaking through the dense air. 
"Yeah, sort of, I guess," He runs a hand through his hair, but it does nothing to tame his messy locks, and I suspect it does nothing to quell his anxiety either. 
"Sit, would you?" I gesture to the sofa, my voice soft. He moves to sit, not caring about the dirty he is covered in. "What exactly do you want to know, Frass?" He flounders for a moment, mouth opening and closing without a sound. 
"What exactly did you tell your Mom? That's the first question," 
I smile at the memory, playing it over in my brain on fast forward. 
"I told her only a bit, at first. I said that your soul and mine were made of the same stardust. She laughed at the thought, no doubt telling other people about it, because they would tease me all around the big top, and that's probably how you heard it. She knew I was in love, well, as in love as a kid could be, you know?" Clint nods at my words, taking them in carefully. "After you left, especially after she got sick, I told her more and more about the little moment we shared, and about how much I loved you. She always said it made her happy to see how happy you made me, even if it was just talk of memories."
"When did you leave?" Clint asks, his voice low, barely there. 
"I left shortly after I turned seventeen. I left with Cashmere, Cherry, and Jacinda. We got in a van and travelled across the country. Those girls saved my soul, in a way, got me here. I owe them a lot. I was slipping before we left." I shake my head to get that thought out of my brain. 
Clint scoots closer, placing a tentative hand on my knee. I take in the feeling of his hand on my body again, for the first time in so long, but his touch is gone before I can commit it to memory. 
"Cashmere agrees with me, you know. Stardust turned sentient." I mumble the last part, pulling my bottom lip into my mouth. 
"I like that." Clint smiles to himself, eyes closed, corners of his lips turned upward. For the first time he looks content. 
"What was your other question?" I ask with a light voice, trying my best to not disturb the calm that has fallen over him. 
"You said you loved me. Was that part true?" He seems hesitant to ask, but does anyway, avoiding eye contact. I don't blame him. 
"Of course I do, Frass. We grew up together. I have loved you since I was eight. Of course, back then I just liked that I wasn't invisible, but you know what I mean." 
"How could you be invisible when you clung to your Mom's skirts so tight that your knuckles were chronically white?" He laughs, the bright sound filling the room. I smile at that, a full smile that reaches my eyes. 
"Do you love me now?" His eyes meet mine, a low burning beneath his irises. Maybe this is a trap, but I can't find it in me to care. After all, love is meant to be shared, is it not?
"Yes, Frass, I do love you. Always have, always will."
"Oh thank god," And with that, he grabs me by the wrist and pulls me into his lap, my legs straddling his as he takes my face in his large hands. His rough skin scrapes against my cheeks as he pulls me down to his lips, and the only thing that makes sense anymore is this. My hands wrapped around his neck, fingers digging into the too long hair at the nape of his neck while he kisses me like our lives depend on it, and maybe they do. 
"What the hell was that?" I laugh as I push him away, a smile spreading across my lips. 
"You have been living here for months now, and I have been slowly falling in love with you since you walked into that meeting room in the city. The sight of you almost killed me, Cricket, and living here at arms length from you has made me realize something. I can't live a second more without you, the stardust that runs through my veins is pulling me towards you and I just can't resist anymore, I love you, Cricket." Clint's eyes never leave mine as he speaks, each word filling me with a warmth that spreads over the whole expanse of my body. 
"I love you, too, Frass," I whisper, leaning in to meet his lips again, I stop just before they meet. "Mama was right. All I had to do was wait, it just seemed to take you a long damn time, Clint Francis," Clint chuckles a bit, eyes bright now, standing out against the dirt that coats his face. 
"And I thought coming in here and kissing you would be moving too fast," I just roll my eyes at him before closing the distance between us.  Stardust calls to stardust, atoms to atoms, me to him and him to me; the feeling of our bodies settling into each other with each gentle touch, each caress of skin or hair, cementing the idea that we are meant of each other. Made from the same stuff. 
32 notes · View notes
vilentia · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
Two Worlds Embrace
6 notes · View notes
skellyagogo · 1 year
Text
Clint Barton - Mermaid
Tumblr media
"It's just not gonna work out." A sinking feeling was gurgling in the pit of his stomach.
"That's bullshit and you know it!"  The sound of her voice cracking, the tears he knew were welling up in her eyes.  
"I'm not ..." he hated himself, hated the way he refused to allow himself to be loved.  "I'm not what you need."
"You're what I want and that's what matters!" Her bottom lip was trembling, a stream of tears pouring from her eyes.
"You'll wake up one day down the road regretting wasting your life with me and I can't... I won't let that happen so it's just best to walk away now before it's too late."
"You've never been so wrong."  His bedroom door shook & rattled as she slammed it behind her.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Where's Y/n her favorite shows on?"  Steve settled himself in on one of the plush couches in the media room. 
"She's been taking a lot of extra assignments lately," Nat threw her legs over the arms of a recliner making herself comfortable.
"Thought I was the only one to notice," Clint mumbled to himself.
"Well kiddies according to Fury's files," Tony already snooping for the umpteenth time through S.H.I.E.L.D. files.  "She's doing a recon in New Delhi."
"Still, she fell in love with this show, at least record it, Tivo it, or whatever it's called for her."  Steve honestly had no desire to learn about most modern technologies.
"What is this?"  Clint perched himself on the back of a couch.
"The Masked Singer.  People are in costumes to hide their identities while they sing and the judges have to figure out who they are.  Could be anyone, athletes, politicians, musician, actors, etc."  Leave it to Steve to know something about a trivial matter but not how to work a cell phone.  
It was only a matter of a few minutes before the show had them all enthralled.  Halfway through the two-hour season premiere episode and everyone was already picking favorites to win.  
"Some of these people are amazing," Wanda on the edge of her seat.  
"I can see why she likes this."  Bucky hadn't smiled that much in ages but a contestant had sung a tune that brought back happier memories of his teen years in Brooklyn. 
Bets were made, and the show was set up to record every episode on the off chance they had to run out and save the world again.  Otherwise, they all planned to make it a weekly thing, gorging on snacks while watching the show.  
Tony even went as far as setting up a chart with all the clues the singers had given in their introduction videos so they could try and figure out who each person was.  The others had to make him swear not to cheat either.  Locking him out from using his tech to search for any trail as to who the singers were.  
The last singer of the night, a mermaid whose scales shimmered and sparkled under the stage lights.  Neon blues, pinks, and purples throughout the costume illuminating as if they held their own source of light.  A long flowing wig adorned with seashells and coral.  Even through all that foam and heavy fabric, their nervousness came out through their movements.
The screen cut away to the mermaid's clue video, a disguised female voice describing overcoming a tough life.  Having to fight back and prove they were more than a pretty face.  She told of how singing was the only thing that was constant in her life, the only thing that never changed.  
Even when the world was falling apart around her, she said it was always there like an old friend.  Found solace & courage in lyrics old and new, but singing was her little secret that not even her closest friends knew.  Too afraid of being made fun of just like people did when she was younger.  
She told the camera how she'd chosen a mermaid because looks are deceiving.  That they may be gorgeous on the outside but wouldn't hesitate to drag you to the depths of the ocean.  
"She looks so anxious, she's shaking."  Wanda and her empathetic soul.  
"How can you tell?"  Sam squinted at the screen trying to see what they did.  
"I feel bad for her."  Natasha sighed.
The mermaid began to sing Demi Lovato's 'Tell Me You Love Me', but unlike the previous contestant that stood still in the center of the stage, the mermaid danced around the stage.  Her movements held just as much emotion as the lyrics she belted out like a pro. 
"Holy shit!"  Peter Parker and Clint yelled at the same time making everyone jump staring strangely.
"She's... just good is all," Clint mumbled, but he knew that song.  He could hear it from her room for weeks after they broke up.
"Yeah, haha, awesome," Peter laughed awkwardly.  Scrunching his eyes glaring at Clint. 
"I don't know man, but damn that was fan-fucking-tastic."  Tony grinned, his whole body vibing to the song, to her voice.  "I'd buy a record label just for them... maybe marry them too, I don't know yet, still gotta see the face."
Clint and Peter eyed each other sharing a knowing look.
"Too bad Y/n missed this," Steve was still smiling from hearing an oldie but a goodie from the 40s earlier in the show.
"Yeah... right, haha," Peter's chuckle was too forced.  "Too bad she missed it alright."  
When the episode was over and the others went their separate ways for the night Clint cornered Peter near the elevator.  Constantly peeking over his shoulder checking if anyone was nearby.
"You know don't you?"  Clint whispered.
"Uh yeah, guess Spidey senses work over television airwaves.  How did you?"  Curiosity was in Parker's eyes until Clint pointed toward his hearing aids.  
"Nothing escapes these things."
"Do ... do we say anything?  To the others I mean?  This seems like the sort of thing they'd wanna know."  Peter attempted to comprehend why wouldn't she want anyone to know.
"NO!" Glancing around his shoulders, he'd yelled a little too loudly.  "There's obviously a reason she did it, let it play out."
"Okay but uh, I'm not that great with secrets."  Parker shrugged his shoulder with a guilty smile.
"Start or else her wrath will be worse than mine," Clint's laugh a little too menacing for Peter's liking.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 
"Still no Y/n?"  Steve glanced at his phone as if he could will her to appear.  "This is the third episode she's missed."
"No, she's in D.C., something Top Secret, Fury, blah, blah, blah."  Clint rambled more than usual earning a glare from Nat.  She knew him all too well and right now he was lying threw his teeth.  
New bets were placed, and guesses changed.  Tony had gotten hooked and started to treat the whole thing like Fantasy football with the added high-stakes pot of who the contestants were adding into who would win the whole competition.  
"I wanna make a bet Tony," avoiding all eye contact, especially from Nat.  She knew all about his brother and his gambling habits.  
"Okay sure, I like taking your money bird brain,"  Tony smirked ready to change the board.  
"10 grand says the mermaid wins it all,"  Clint spoke with a confidence usually reserved for his skills in the field.  
"Me too Mr. Stark, but I uh... don't have the money," Parker flashed a sheepish smile.  
"I'll front ya kid," Clint shared a smirk with Peter.  "College is expensive.  10 grand each for me and the Spider kid."
"You uh, you guys sure about that?"  Tony was beyond skeptical.
"Yeah, I'm sure," flashing a cocky smirk.  "I never miss."
"This isn't the same thing as hitting bullseyes Barton," Bruce joined in on the skepticism with Tony.
"I ..." his eyes wrinkled as he smiled.  "I know she will."
The episode was half over before a loud ruckus came from the elevators.  Y/n came rushing into the media room skidding to a stop colliding into the couch Clint & Peter were sitting on.  Momentum carrying her up and over about to crash headfirst into the floor when Peter's webs snapped her back.
"Thanks, Pete," breathless & flushed, a sheen of sweat from running.  "Am I too late?"  Pausing long enough to see the odd exchange between Peter & Clint.
"Just a bit," Clint chuckled glancing from her to the tv screen and back again.  "Figured you'd be gone awhile."
"Uh no, I sorta annoyed Fury to the point he told me to take some time off."  Giving the weird look straight back at Clint and Parker. 
"I wonder when they record this?  Earlier in the week or what?"  Nat absentmindedly questioned munching on popcorn.
"Over a few weeks a couple months in advance," Y/n blurted out too quickly.
"Mhm, and how do you know that?"  Taking in the body language of more than one person, reading the emotion & chaos in the room or rather a certain section anyhow.  
"Google search bitch," sticking her tongue out at Nat trying to act normal as could be.  "I wondered the same thing after I got hooked on the show."
"Right, whatever then," but that look Nat flashed, the one that radiated suspicion.
"Look boys," grinned Wanda.  "Your mermaids up."
The mermaid stood in the center of the darkened stage, a lone spotlight illuminating only them.  No dancers in the background, just the subtle hint of purple billowing through a smoke machine.    The microphone slowly raised near the mesh area of her costume's headpiece.  
Soulful sultry words of 'You Said You'd Grow Old with Me' wafted in the air.  She swayed slowly around the stage singing almost mimicking as if she was dancing with a partner.  There was no denying the emotion was strong, bringing the crowd and the judges to tears.  A clear favorite of the night that brought many to their feet.
The commentary from the judges, gobsmacked with her performance, all convinced she had to be a professional with that range of notes perfectly hit.  The mermaid's performance had been so moving stirring emotions in that studio and amongst the media room in the Avengers compound.  
Hard ass emotionless Nat shed a silent tear.  Wanda was in full-on sobs holding on to Vision.  All eyes were glued to the screen except for Clint.  Wordlessly resting his hand over hers, waiting for a reaction.  Fingers laced through hers as he watched the breath catch in her throat, her eyes rolled closed. 
"What are you doing?"  Whispering under her breath but she knew he heard it.  Clint only winked and shrugged his shoulders staring back and the show. 
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
In the next episode, the Mermaid had suddenly become the house favorite, even more so after she sang 'Only Love Can Hurt Like This'.  Making it her second week in a row she brought the studio crowd & judges to their feet.  The camera pans through the crowds, the judges, and not a single dry eye in the house.  
The uproar was caused when the voting didn't go in her favor, a few of the judges bemoaning the votes had to be rigged but either way, she ended up in a smackdown sing-off to stay in the competition.
"This is fucking bullshit!" Nat hissed tossing popcorn at the screen.
"RIGGED!!" Tony bounced in his seat.  
"Would you guys shut the hell up!"  Bucky's agitation silenced the room.  
They listened as the competition tried and failed to bring it against the Mermaid.  The crowd not impressed, hardly clapped as they sang.  The Mermaid on the other hand stood appearing bored on stage, arms crossed tapping her flipper.  
When it was her turn she belted out with all her heart and soul, 'Bulletproof' by Diamante.  Clint sat beside Y/n chuckling, a nice touch he thought considering her 'special ability' in the field. Hidden in plain sight and still, people hadn't even come close to identifying her.  
The Mermaid rocked it out on the stage, dancing around Nick Cannon and her competitor in the sing-off.  Her body shook and shimmied as much as it could in that costume, arms up egging on the crowd to get louder.  Even the judges stood on their feet, the crowd cheering, the sound of the crowd deafening.  
Clint was watching Y/n again, didn't need to watch them announce the Mermaid as the winner.  He knew from the moment he first heard her years ago.  Crawling through the vents hiding from Nat's wrath, he heard the sweetest voice in existence.  Followed the sound until he saw it was her.  
"What's with you lately?"  Y/n tapped out in morse code on his thigh.  
Natasha had been paying closer attention to her lately, analyzing every move Clint made so talking outloud wasn't the wisest choice.  Trying in vain to keep their facial expressions neutral because of Nat's supernatural-like ability to read people's whole life stories at a glance.  
"What?!  I can't be nice?"  He tapped back, eyeing her with a tiny grin. 
"Only when you want something," her fingers patted out the words.  "Now what do you want?"  The show had become nothing more than noise in the background.
"I've just... I'm an idiot."  His smile dropped, a hint of regret in his eyes.
"What else is new?"  The music of her soft giggle music hit him straight in the heart.  
"I'm sorry, I never should have ..." swallowing hard he grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room.  Away from prying eyes, until he found a secluded spot.  
"I'm an asshole, incapable of love, or grasping the idea of it, or accepting that it's something I can have."  He paced in front of her, eyes darting all over the floor, mind racing, heart ready to jump out of his chest.  
"I know, but I told you I loved you no matter what and you didn't believe me."  She put her hands on his face bringing him to a stop, he closed his eyes feeling her touch.  "You've gotta work on that self-deprecating bullshit cuz you're worth taking on the whole Universe Barton."
"You think we could ... you could... try again?"  His words were no higher than a whisper as if he was afraid of the answer.
"I always loved you Clint, but what happens between us from here on out is on you."  Leaving a kiss on his forehead.  "Find me when you figure it out." 
She was only a few steps away when Clint reached for her wrist, pulling her into him.  He kissed her long & slow, putting everything he had into it.  Every 'I'm sorry' he never allowed himself to tell her.  Each 'take me back I'm a moron' that was only spoken in his head. 
"I want you, I want ... us."  Grinning through a kiss feeling her whole body weight against his.  
47 notes · View notes
Medevac- Clint Barton (2)
Tumblr media
Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader
Characters: Clint Barton
Warnings: N/A
Request: Anon- Hi can I request a Clint Barton x reader romantic relationship The reader getting hurt during a mission and then find out she’s pregnant?
Word Count: 452
Author: Charlotte
Clint did as he said and got you out of the building in under the five minutes, he had expected it to take. As soon as he got you into the helicopter, he was demanding every ounce of medical assistance that they could offer for you. Even with him being a worrier and a bit of a hindrance to those trying to help you, they had managed to secure the wound until you could get to the hospital. A myriad of tests was run on you to make sure you were okay before the wound was cleaned and fixed up.
He had stayed by your side the whole time. No matter how many times medical professionals suggested that he go to get a drink or something to eat, he was glued to the seat next to you until you were given a clear bill of health.
With your wound bandaged up and ready to heal on its own, you were redressed in something less blood-sodden and waiting sat on the edge of the hospital bed, legs dangling down, for the doctor to return.
“You need to take it easy,” Clint berated, stopping you from reaching for your handbag an arm’s length on the bed. “You aren’t going back into the field for a long time.”
“No, I don’t,” you sighed. “It’s fine. Give me a week and I’ll be good as new.”
Before he could tell you off, your doctor had returned to your room.
“I have your discharge papers,” the doctor smiled.
“So, is everything okay?” You checked.
The doctor nodded. “Everything came back fine, but there was one thing that we didn’t expect. I’m not sure if you are aware but you are pregnant.”
Everything paused. You had discussed starting a family and although it was something you both wanted, you weren’t on a timeframe nor did you have any direct plans, meaning this pregnancy was wanted but certainly not planned.
“I’m pregnant?” You croaked; your mouth instantly dry. “Was everything okay?”
“Yes, you are, everything seems normal, but we suggest you get an appointment with your obstetrician to make sure.”
The doctor wished you well, heading off to their next patient.
You turned your attention to your husband who had a bright smile on his face. He jumped up as soon as the door closed and scooped you up into a hug, doing his best to avoid hurting your bullet wound.
“We’re having a baby,” he grinned.
“I can’t believe it,” you smiled. “I really can’t believe that I’m pregnant.”
“I’m so happy,” he whispered, his joy overwhelming him and forcing tears into his eyes. “But I promise you aren’t going into the field for a very long time.”
25 notes · View notes
Text
Letters to a Goodbye
Tumblr media
Part 2 of It's Okay. Let me Go
Summary: You gave Natasha an important mission to delivery the letters you've written before the time heist. These are those letters.
Warning: character death, guilt, good-bye letters, Natasha needs a hug in this one.
Word Count: 7.6
Natasha kept the letters with her till after the funeral. They felt heavy in her pocket but there was so much grief, it felt wrong to add more to it. But as the funeral died down, she was uncertain about the future, unsure of what the next move for the Avengers was. Wanda was the first letter. She found the Sokovian by the water’s edge, lost in her thoughts. The Black Widow walked over to her. “Hi,” she softly said, not wanting to disrupt the calm moment. 
“Hi,” Wanda said, not looking away from the water. “I’m sorry about Y/n,” Natasha hated how much it hurt to hear your name. It felt like there was a snake wrapped around her heart and lungs, squeezing so tight. Wanda looked over her shoulder, her eyes were glossy with tears. “She was good.”
“Yeah, she was,” Natasha said, sitting down next to her. “I’m sorry about Vision.” Wanda looked down at her hands at the mention of his name. A few tears left her eyes. “I wish we could have done more.” Wanda nodded, wiping the tears away. 
“Me too,” they sat in silence, watching the water and the wind blow through the trees. Finally, Wanda’s letter became too heavy. She took it out of her pocket. 
“Here,” she said, handing it to her. “I don’t know if this letter will help or hurt more. But knowing my sister, it will probably help.” Wanda took it with shaky hands.
“She wrote me a letter,” Wanda said in disbelief. Natasha nodded. 
“Her backup plan as she called it,” the Russian picked up a rock and skipped it across the water. “It seems like she knew she wasn’t going to come home.” Wanda smiled, tapping the letter against her hand. 
“That sounds like her,” Natasha nodded. 
“I have more letters to give out,” she said, standing up. “But I’m here for you, Wanda. You aren’t alone in this.” She walked back towards the cabin. 
“You aren’t either,” Wanda’s voice stopped the Black Widow. “I know a thing or two about grieving a sibling.” Natasha sighed. 
“I feel like I’ve grieved her too many times,” she admitted not turning around to face her. “When I defected to SHIELD I never thought I’d see her again, I didn’t want to see her. So, I grieved for a sister I never wanted. But then Yelena and I reunited with her and a piece of me that I didn’t know was missing was found. We were going to be a family again. But now,” Natasha looked back at the witch. “She won’t be coming back this time. I wish there was a way to tell her we did it. We won.” Wanda smiled. 
“She knows. They both do,” Natasha nodded, looking back at the cabin. Yelena was sitting on the steps of Tony’s cabin, watching Morgan play with Nathaniel and Lila. The blonde had barely said two words to her or anyone. “She’ll come around, Nat. Just give her time.” The redhead nodded. 
“If you need someone. I’m here.” 
*
Wanda watched Natasha walk back to the cabin. Her shoulders were hunched in grief. She was holding onto so much guilt but Wanda didn’t want to go through her mind to see what happened, it wasn’t her place. She looked at the letter in her hand, she felt undeserving of one. Her fingers traced over her name. Letting out a shaky breath, she opened the envelope and unfolded the letter. 
Wanda - 
I wish I could offer my condolence in person but like we talked about all those years life is so uncertain. I am deeply sorry about Vision and I wish there was more we could have done. I remember you asking me if I have ever found love and I said no. But I was wrong. Indeed, I never had a chance to find love like you and Vision but I found love in other things; my sister, my parents, and how beautiful the world is when you are free to live it. I have to admit I envy the love you and Vision got to share but I am also grateful. I can’t put into words the pain you must be feeling. 
You have been through a lot, Wanda Maximoff. You’ve lost and gained and lost again. No, I didn’t ask Natasha for your story, it would be wrong of me. That being said, it would be unfair of me to ask you to keep an eye on Natasha and Yelena when you’ve gone through so much. That shouldn’t stop you from asking them for help. Natasha can be a little rough around the edges and be compared to a feisty cat but her heart is good. Our mother told us to never let the Red Room take our hearts and she kept hers. Now Yelena is probably quiet right now, her emotions all over the place. But I call her little sun for a reason. She provides a light to the world that no one else can. So let them be there for you, little witch. 
I wish we could have had that girl’s night we talked about when the world wasn’t ending but it had to be me. I think you’d understand that. We’ll see each other in the next life but I hope not too soon. Live for me. Live for Vision. But most importantly live for yourself. 
Wanda refolded the letter and placed it against her chest. She cried. Life was so unfair. 
*
Natasha walked over to Steve. He changed out of his suit and tie and into his Captain America suit. A briefcase was in one hand and Mjolnir was in the other as he talked with Sam. Steve was preparing to return the stones to their correct spot. Sam saw her approaching and smiled at her. “All set soldier?” Natasha asked. Steve nodded. 
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Natasha smiled. 
“Can I borrow you for a second?” She asked the super soldier. Sam patted Steve on the shoulder and walked over to Bucky. She found a picnic table, away from everyone, and she knew Steve was following her. She jumped on the top with her feet on the bench and Steve set everything down and sat next to her. 
“Do you need a hug?” Steve asked. Natasha nodded, not trusting her voice. The super soldier put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. Natasha let out a shaky breath, enjoying the warmth he gave off. Steve was always naturally warm, it had to do with the serum running through his veins. 
“I don’t know how to do this,” she said. Her words were muffled as her face was buried in his chest. But she knew Steve could hear her. “She was my constant for 5 years. For 5 years, I knew she had my back.” Natasha ended the hug and put her arms on her lap, looking down. “How did you deal with it?” Steve looked at Bucky who was shaking his head at something Sam said, who was laughing. He must have told Bucky a joke. 
“It was hard,” he finally said, looking back at Natasha. “But I had you and Sam. You helped a lot.” Natasha smiled. “You and Yelena will get through this. You guys are some of the strongest people I know,” Natasha cleared her throat. She pulled out his letter and handed it to him. 
“She wrote you something,” Steve took it. “Before the time heist,” she stood up. “Be safe and come back to us.” 
“I will.” 
*
Natasha smiled, kissed his cheek, and walked over to the platform where Bruce was working. Steve was transported back to when they stood in front of Fury’s grave and she kissed him on the cheek, telling him to ask Sharon out. He looked at the letter in his hand, a little surprised you had the time to write to him. The super soldier opened the letter
Steve - 
I knew you through stories before I met you. My father, the Red Guardian, told stories of how you and he fought. What he failed to tell me was that you were on ice long before he had a chance to meet you. But the man he made you seem like couldn’t compare to the man you are. You're courageous and you hold the weight of the world on your shoulders with a grace I envy. But I think that weight became too much. 
I hate to admit but over the past 5 years, I grew to resent you and the other Avengers. You moved on, dealing with the guilt of the Battle of Wakanda in a way that was best for you. Because of that, you didn’t see the guilt that ate at Natasha. You didn’t see the late nights that nightmares kept her up or days I had to force her to eat something because she didn’t deserve food. I’m not telling you this to fill you with guilt. I envied you and the others because you could move on. In the end, you all came back together to rewrite a wrong. 
The Avengers are a beautiful family. As families go they have their ups and downs, they fight and forgive, and love each other to the very end. I am glad my sister had you when they needed a family. Your family taught them how to love, laugh, smile, and be free. 
You are a good man, Steve Rogers. I hope the best for you and the rest of the team. Thank them for me for being there for Natasha and Yelena when I wasn’t. Thank you.      
Steve reread the letter and folded it, placing it in his pocket. He looked up and saw Natasha talking with Sam. He said something that made her laugh. It was good to see her laugh. 
*
Natasha waited with bated breath as she listened to Burce's countdown to bringing Steve back. The doctor right before sending Steve back told her that he tried to bring you back, Vision too. Bruce said one and Steve appeared, a little disoriented when his helmet came off. Natasha noticed he had tears in his eyes. “I tried,” he said. “I tried.” Natasha knew what he meant. 
*
Bucky was saying goodbye to T’Challa. Natasha was surprised to see his name among your letters but the man trained you at one point. He turned around and was surprised to see her. “Natalia,” he said as he walked over. 
“Bucky, how are you?” The man looked tired. 
“I’m ready for the fighting to be done,” Natasha nodded. She understood that feeling too well.
“I have something for you,” she handed him the letter. “Y/n wrote to you before -” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. Bucky took the letter with his flesh hand. 
“Thank you,” he said. “I’m still getting my memories back, some things are clearer than others. But you sister I remember. She wouldn’t stop talking about you and Yelena,” Natasha fought tears that swelled in her eyes. “It was rather annoying at times.” He said it with a smile and it made Natasha laugh as she whipped away a few tears. “She helped me a lot during that time.” 
“Yeah,” Natasha whispered. “I’ll see you around Bucky.” 
*
“Nat,” the Black Widow stopped and faced him. “I’m here for you. Just let me know what I can do.” She didn’t respond but nodded her head. Buck found a quiet place to sit, away from prying eyes, and opened the envelope. 
Bucky-
I bet you are surprised that I wrote you a letter but as you’ve come to know I do everything for a reason. I researched what HYDRA did to you and who you were before the man who trained me and so many other girls. I hope you don’t mind but I’m sorry that they put you through that. We had more in common than we thought. So I’m not sure how you remember me but I remember everything; every mission we went on, every minute we trained together, and every time they forced me to watch you get strapped to that chair. 
On our last mission, we wrote a list together of things we wanted to do once we were free. Do you remember what we wrote? I found the list not too long ago. So now that you are free, finish this list for me. 
Watch a sunset on a beach 
Eat ice cream 
Go dancing 
See the Grand Canyon 
Ride a rollercoaster 
Go to the movies 
Go on a date
Swim in a pool 
Dance in the rain 
Smile more 
Be Happy 
Enjoy the freedom, Bucky. You’ve earned it. 
Bucky remembered that mission and the list you created. It was a stake and they had time as they sat and waited for the target. He was going to finish this list for you as you were a bright light during his time, it only seemed right. 
*
Finally, Natasha sat down with a sigh. Her body ached down to her bones. She knew it was from everything that had happened. “Is this seat taken?” Clint asked, pointing to the empty spot next to her. Natasha shook her head. The archer sat down next to her, releasing a sigh of his own. “Where are you and Yelena headed to after this?” It took Natasha a second to reply. 
“St. Petersburg,” she whispered. “We are going to visit Melina and Alexei,” She called them. It was a short call, a moment of peace amongst the chaos to tell them what happened.
“After that, you are welcome at the farm,” Clint said. “You aren’t alone in this.” It was the sentiment that everyone was giving her. You aren’t alone. I’m here for you. And Natasha was thankful for it but she didn’t want kind words, she just wanted her sister back. 
“We may take you up on that,” she had to go find Yelena. “For you,” she handed him the letter. Clint hesitated but took it from her. “Safe travels back home. I’ll call you when we get to Melina’s.” 
*
Clint grabbed Natasha’s hand and pulled her into a hug. The Black Widow tensed up not expecting the hug but soon relaxed in his arms. He felt her tears on his shirt. He understood. It could have been either of them, taking that leap to bring everyone back. But they were alive and they had to deal with you being gone. 
He waited to read his letter, keeping it in his pocket on the flight home and the drive up to the house he hadn’t seen in 5 years. It was still there for family dinner and movie night, putting his kids to bed, and laying next to his wife. When Laura fell asleep, he crept down to the kitchen and sat at the dining room table with a bottle of scotch and the letter open. 
Clint - 
You were sent to kill my sister. You were given a mission to eliminate one of the Red Room’s best agents. But you didn’t. You ignored a direct order and gave her a chance to walk away. In doing so, you gave them freedom and I can’t thank you enough for that. 
In those 5 years, you dealt with the Blip in a way you understood. You grieved for a family that was taken away from you, not by your choice. I understand that feeling far too well. You are not a monster or a bad person, who isn’t deserving of this chance to be with your family. You are human. Humans have complicated and messy emotions. So hug your family tight and tell them you love them. 
I was in Budapest when you, Natasha, and Yelena destroyed half the city to try to kill Dreykov. As they and you know now it didn’t work. But I don’t want to dwell on that. I want to focus on the good and that is the unbreakable relationship you forged with my sisters. You put yourself in danger to help them defect to a better life. That takes a special (or stupid) type of person to do that. 
You, your wife, and your kids invited Yelena and Natasha into your family. I saw how much it hurt Nat that she couldn’t bring you home like she was failing you. But you are home now. Continue to look after them for me. I wish we had more time to get to know each other and that I got to meet Nathaniel. You're a good brother to them, Clint. So thank you. 
“Clint?” He looked up through his blurry eyes and saw Laura. She was wearing a robe and a small smile on her face. Without saying anything, she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. The archer rested his head on her chest and cried. 
“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much.” 
*
Pepper got a hotel room for those who didn’t feel like traveling, the woman was a saint. Natasha opened the door to her and Yelena’s room with food from a nearby burger place. Yelena was sitting on the balcony, her feet on the metal railing. She hadn’t said anything to Natasha but her eyes were red and blotchy from her tears. “I got your favorite,” she said, placing the food on the small table. “Well, I tried to get your favorite.” Natasha pulled out two burgers and a large fry. She got Yelena a chocolate and peanut butter milkshake. But the blonde made no move to grab the food. “Please eat,” Natasha said. “For me.” She added. The words left her mouth so effortlessly that they caused her throat to close up. When the guilt got too much, those 2 simple words got her to eat. But Yelena didn’t. She stood up and walked back into the hotel room. “Yelena,” She called after her. “Talk to me please.” Yelena stopped. 
“What is there to say?” She asked. Her Russian accent laced the words. It only happened when she was drunk or she was emotional. 
“Anything. Just don’t shut me out.” Yelena slowly turned around to face her. 
“How did she die?” She asked. Natasha felt her heart skip. Deep down she knew Yelena had every right to know the truth but Natasha wasn’t ready for that conversation.
“What?” 
“How. Did. Our sister. Die?” She asked, taking steps to close the distance between them. “I’ve tried to get someone to tell me. I asked Steve, Rhodney, Clint, and even Rocket but no one would tell me. So tell me,” Natasha couldn’t. How could she look in her baby sister’s eye and tell her she was going to lose someone she cared about no matter who came home from Vormir. 
“She died to bring everyone back,” Yelena scuffed, throwing her arms to the side. The answer wasn’t what she was looking for. Natasha went to her nightstand and pulled out Yelena’s letter. “Here, she wrote this. It's for you.” Yelena took it. She stared at it, an unclear expression on her face. Soon it morphed into anger. 
“I don’t want this,” she threw the letter to the ground. “I want her back.” 
“I know-”
“You don’t know!” Yelena yelled. “You don’t know anything. I wanted more time with her. You got 5 extra years with her. That’s not fair!” Natasha let Yelena yell at her. She let her words bounce off of her. At least she was talking even though her words were laced with venom. “We should have gone back for her.” The sudden conversation switch gave Natasha whiplash. 
“What are you talking about?” Natasha asked. 
“We should have known that the Red Room was still active and that she was trapped. She would have come looking for us if she could have. But you didn’t care about her,” Yelena pointed at Natasha. “You didn’t want to face her and share what we found. You were being selfish. Why didn’t we go back for her?” Natasha was shocked into silence, barely recognizing the girl that stood in front of her. Yelena whipped the tears off her face and turned to leave the room. She opened the door, almost running into Maria as she stormed past. Natasha sat on the food of her bed, hands covering her face. She knew better than to now follow Yelena. The blonde needed to cool down. But the words thrown at her didn’t help the guilt already eating at Natasha. 
“I heard yelling and I wanted to see if everything was okay,” Maria said, walking into their room. Natasha didn’t look up. “I can see that it isn’t,” she laughed bitterly, uncovering her face. “Do you need a hug, to talk, or a drink?” 
“A drink. I need a drink.” 
*
When Natasha stumbled into her hotel room after a few too many drinks with Maria, she was greeted with darkness. But she did see Yelena’s sleeping form in bed and the letter was picked up. The Black Widow slipped underneath the covers and sleep welcomed her. 
*
It was a strange Deja Vu moment as Natasha walked up to the farmhouse with Yelena next to her. The last time she was here, her family was whole, broken but whole as they tried to come up with a plan to take down the Red Room. Every time you asked her to visit Melina, Natasha gave an excuse. Maybe she should have joined you. The door opened and Melina and Alexei walked out. Natasha heard Yelena let out a shaky breath and quickened her steps to reach the older Russian. Melina opened her arms to engulf the blonde. Natasha slowed down to give the two some space. Being here will be good, she thought. Yelena ended the hug and walked over to Alexei. The Russian super soldier was unsure of himself but Yelena hugged him and he hugged her back. It was a quick hug but Natasha saw Yelena nod at something Alexei said and walk into the house. Natasha continued walking and only stopped when Melina stood in front of her. “Natasha.” 
“Hi mama,” she wasn’t expecting the older Black Widow to give her a quick hug. 
“You look tired,” Melina said, taking a step back to look at her. 
“I’m hungover.”
“Ah,” she smiled. “That would do it. Come, I’ve made food and I can get you something for that hangover.” They walked back to the house in silence. Natasha had three more letters; one for Melina, one for Alexei, and then her’s. She had no idea how you wrote all of these in a short amount of time. Alexei greeted her with a smile. 
“Natalie,” he said. “I’m sorry about Y/n.” She wondered how long it was going to be until hearing your name stopped hurting. 
“She would be glad it worked and you came back to annoy us with stories of your glory days.” Natasha teased. Alexei laughed and followed her into the house. “Where is Yelena?”
“She asked me where Y/n’s room was,” he said. “I wasn’t if it changed.” 
“It didn’t,” Melina assured him but Natasha wasn’t listening. She walked over to the dining room table and it was covered with photos of you and Natasha assumed were other Widows. She recognized one and picked up the photo of you and Soyna with baby pigs, warm smiles on both of your faces. “Some of the Widows want to have a small service for her,” Melina said, standing next to her. “They asked me to get a few things out. I can put it away.” 
“No,” Natasha said, putting the picture down. “You can keep it out.” She forgot that part of your life as it seemed like a lifetime ago. While she and Yelena were on the run from the government, you were cleaning up the mess the Red Room made. A mess that shouldn’t have happened if Natasha just went back for you. Maybe Yelena was right. “How is that going?” She asked, following Melina into the kitchen. Melina directed her to sit at a small table. She did and watched the odd Russian couple interact with one another. Alexei may have been gone for 5 years but they moved smoothly in the kitchen. He poured bowls of soup from a pot while Melina made a drink. He set one bowl down in front of Natasha and went to take the other to Yelena. 
“We made progress during those 5 years a lot of the Widows were Blipped,” Melina put a glass on the table and sat down with a sigh. “Which is still an awful name.” Natasha smiled, taking a spoonful of the soup. It was good. It provided her with the warmth that she was missing. The drink on the other hand made her gag. 
“Did you put vodka in this?” She asked. 
“What do you Americans say, ‘hair of the dog?” Natasha rolled her eyes. “But with everyone being back, there is still work that needs to be done.” 
“We or I can help,” it was the least she could do and she wasn’t sure what Yelena wanted. 
“Soyna is handling it for now,” Melina put her hand over Natasha. “How are you doing?” Natasha wasn’t sure. She wanted to wake up and for this to be a horrible dream. 
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. 
“Well, you can stay here as long as you need to figure it out,” Melina said. “They may be some extra clothes that she left here but we can go into the city to get you stuff.” Nothing survived the compound being attacked. 
“Thank you,” Alexei came back without the bowl in his hand. 
“Yelena asked me to tell you she wants to see you. The room is down the hall and to the right,” Natasha went without another word. She found her sister, sitting on the floor with her back against the bed. Without saying a word, Natasha sat down next to her. In her hands was a photo strip that was ripped on one edge. 
“I miss her,” Yelena whispered, putting her head on Natasha’s shoulder. 
“Yeah, so do I.”
*
Melina told Natasha that Alexei liked to go fishing when she asked where the super soldier was. There was a creek that flowed on the edge of the property. So Natasha went to find him. It wasn’t hard but the Black Widow was surprised by how peaceful it was and how quiet Alexei was. “Come join me, Natalia,” he said, not taking his eyes off the water. Natasha sat on a rock next to him. “When your sister was here and not freeing Widows, I tried to get her to come fishing with me,” he chuckled. “She wasn’t happy with the early wake-up calls but I told her it was good for her. I probably told her a cool Red Guardian story.”
“Super cool,” Natasha teased. The man smiled. 
“I think I was trying to make it up to her,” he said. “I wasn’t the father you girls deserved.” Natasha looked away from him and stared out at the water.
“I remember that day so clearly,” she finally said. “For a second, I thought you’d listen to her. You were going to take Yelena and me back to Ohio,” she looked back at him. “But you didn’t.” 
“I didn’t,” he softly said. He brought the line back in and cast it out. 
“Do you regret it?” He didn’t respond right away, focused on letting more lines out. 
“I don’t know,” Natasha knew it was a complicated question. “I mean I wish you girls didn’t have to go through that but would you and Yelena have become Avengers if I disobeyed an order?” He asked. She wasn’t sure. One of the many possibilities on how her fate could have been different. Natasha took out his letter and handed it to him. 
“She wrote you something,” she stood up, whipping the dirt off her pants. “Maybe I’ll join you out here tomorrow.” Alexei nodded, looking down at the letter in his hands. Natasha smiled, leaving the super soldier alone. 
*
Dad- 
I remember that day in Cuba so vividly. I had that gun pointed at you and I was ready to fight you and every guard there, even when I knew I didn’t stand a chance. So I pleaded with you to take Yelena and Natasha back home and take me instead. But you didn’t. It made me question if you ever truly cared about us. The first few days I was so angry with you. I hated you. For 3 years you were my dad and I was your daughter. Was it just a mission to you? Did you ever care? 
I think it was both. You were following orders but there were moments when I think you cared about us. Remember when a girl in my class said no when I asked her to go to a dance? You asked me if you wanted to go threaten her. Or when some neighborhood kids were picking on Yelena you taught her to stand up for herself. She gave the kid a black eye and as Melina punished her you gave her a candy bar. Natasha wanted to play on the baseball team instead of softball and you stayed up with her to teach her how to catch a baseball and throw one. The mission didn’t require you to do those things. You wanted to be somebody to someone; someone important. You choose Dreykov when to us you were already the most important person. Mission or not, you are our father. 
If you are writing this then our plan worked and I didn’t come home but that’s okay. I got to experience the father you could be for 2 years now it's Natasha and Yelena’s turn. Take them to your fishing spot, teach them how to help Melina with the pigs, tell them stories about the birds that visit the farm, and most importantly love them because I know you do. 
Also, I fought with Captain America so suck on that! 
Alexei laughed, shaking his head. Of course, you would end a goodbye letter in a way to make him laugh. He folded the letter and tapped it against his hand. Cuba will always haunt him. He could see the fear in your eyes and your tears as you pleaded with him to disobey Dreykov. Alexei sighed and looked toward the way Natasha walked. He was going to make it right and be the father they needed.  
*
After dinner, Natasha found Melina in her workshop creating more of the Red Dust. “I have something for you,” Natasha said. Melina put the test tubes down and looked at her. The letter was already in Natasha’s hand. 
“Alexei told me about his letter,” she handed Melina the letter. “Have you read yours?” The redhead shook her head. 
“If I read it then it cements that she's not coming back,” she said. “That she’s gone.” Melina put the letter down on her workbench. 
“Come sit,” Natasha sighed, sitting down next to Melina. “There is a Hebrew poem about death and in that poem, there is a line, ‘As long as we live, they will live, for they are now part of us, as we remember them.’ She may have died but she isn’t gone. She’s here,” she pointed to Natasha’s head. “And here.” She pointed to her heart. 
“It’s the same,” Melina nodded, whipping away a few tears. Natasha didn’t realize she was crying. 
“No, it’s not but it’s our new normal.” 
*
Natasha stayed with Melina as she worked. Finally, the redhead retired to her room. Melina sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She went through the Red Room 3 times before any of her children were born. They taught her how to control her emotions but she felt so out of control right now. When Natasha called her and told her of your passing and that she and Yelena were headed to St. Petersburg when they had a moment, all Melina could say was ‘okay’. But deep down her heart was aching. It felt unfair how little time you had. She picked up the letter, carefully opened the envelope, and unfolded the paper. 
Mama-
So many years ago you told us to not let them take our hearts. That simple saying kept me alive, it gave me the strength to continue and made me a better person. It made me realize that you kept yours. I remember the look in your eyes when you said, ‘I’m sorry’ to us when Alexei told us we were leaving. You didn’t want to leave either. I wonder what our life would be like if we got to stay in Ohio. Would I go to college? Would Natasha play sports in high school? Would we interrogate Yelena’s prom date and tell them to have her home by 10? These questions kept me up at night and they would hurt.
I’m grateful for the few extra years we had together; late nights in your lab working in silence, cooking dinner for the few Widows that were living with us and helping you take care of the pigs. I wish we had more of those memories but I cherish that. 
Do me a favor. Step out of your lab and live. Smile. Be happy. Live your life and breakthrough that conditioning they put you through. It will be hard and painful and scary but it will be worth it. Allow yourself to smile and laugh at Alexei. Cry over stupid rom-com movies. Live for me, mama. I’ll miss you. 
Melina dropped the letter down to her desk. She felt the tears form in her eyes. Her throat burned. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried. She covered her mouth and cried.    
*
It was now or never. Natasha paced back and forth in her room with the letter resting on her bed. She couldn’t bring herself to read it. Frustrated, she put the letter on the nightstand, slammed the drawer shut, and climbed into bed. 
*
Screaming woke Yelena up. She jumped out of bed and ran to the door. The scream was from Natasha’s room. She opened the door, almost ripping it off the hinges, and saw Natasha thrashing under the covers. Yelena ran to her side. “Natasha,” she said. “Natasha, wake up. It’s just a nightmare. You're safe.” Her sister woke up with a gasp, eyes frantically darting around the room. “Hey,” Yelena sat on her bed, grabbing onto her face. “You’re okay. I’m here. It’s okay.” She heard Alexei and Melina enter the room but she ignored them. The last time she saw Natasha this broken was after the battle against Thanos at the compound when she learned of your death. Natasha choked on a sob and pulled her into a hug. 
“I’m sorry,” she said. It was hard to hear over her tears. “It should have been me,” Yelena pulled away, still keeping her hands on Natasha’s arms. 
“What are you talking about?” She took a few breaths to calm herself down. 
“We came up with a plan,” Melina sat at the edge of the bed and Alexei took a seat in the corner. “It involved all of us separating into groups and going back in time to get the infinity stones from different parts of the pass,” Yelena understood every other word Natasha just said. Bruce tried to explain it to her when she asked how they did it. “Clint, Y/n, and I went to Vormir,” she stopped, shaking her head. “I should have seen it but I didn’t, not like she did. When we got there, the guardian greeted us. He said -” her voice cracked. “He said that the 2 of us were going to get the stone but one of us was going to lose everything; in every listing exchange. A soul for a soul,” Natasha looked down at her lap. “She hit Clint with her Widow Bites and ran for the cliff. I tackled her but she flipped me over. She jumped but I jumped after her,” Yelena’s hands squeezed Natasha’s arms. “I grabbed her hand and attached myself to the cliff with a grappling hook.” Natasha looked up at her sister. “I pleaded with her to not do it but she kicked the wall and slipped out of hand.” The room was stunned into a heavy silence. Yelena looked at Alexei and Melina, their faces were neutral but their eyes portrayed their true feelings. They didn’t know either. “It should have been me,” she said again. 
“No,” Yelena said. “No, don’t say that. How could you say that?” She asked, pushing Natasha on the shoulder. 
“It’s true! You said you wanted more time with her. We just got her back and now she’s gone because I-” her voice cracked. “I didn’t save her again.”
“Natasha,” Melina said. “Your sister was as stubborn as you.” Yelena hated the usage of ‘was’. “There was no stopping her.” The redhead pushed the palm of her hands against her eyes. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” Yelena wasn’t sure how to help her. She’s never seen her this distraught. 
“Sometimes in our lives, we’ll have pain and sorrow,” Yelena whispered. “But if we are wise we know that there’s always tomorrow. So lean on me when you’re not strong and I’ll be your friend. I’ll help you carry on,” she remembered the phrase you used to say to them when life became too hard, nightmares, fights, and when they were being transported to the Red Room. It felt wrong on her lips but Yelena knew her sister needed it. Her shoulders relaxed at the familiar phrase. “I miss her, I do, and I love her. But I need you. I don’t want to choose between losing you or her. I just-” Yelena was struggling to find her words. “I need you. You're my sister, my best friend.” Natasha nodded, pulling Yelena into a hug. 
“I’m here,” she said. Yelena felt Natasha’s heart beating. 
“We are all here,” Alexei said. “Family, right?”
“A pretty dysfunctional one,” Natasha mumbled. Yelena laughed, ending the hug and looking at Melina and Alexei. This was the reason you gave up your life for these moments. Yelena was still so angry but these moments made it feel worth it.   
*
Yelena waited until Natasha fell asleep and she snuck back into her room. With a sigh, she sat down on her bed and pulled out the letter from underneath her pillow. She ran her thumb over her name and finally opened it. When she opened the envelope, she was surprised to find a sticky note instead of a piece of paper. On the sticky note, a micro SD card was taped onto it, and ‘Throw on the ground’ was written on it. Her hands shook as she took off the card and threw it on the ground. As it landed, a blue hologram version of you appeared. Yelena’s heart skipped and her stomach dropped. You were wearing your tactical suit. 
“Is this recording?” You asked, looking up. 
“Yes, Miss. Y/n,” the AI answered. You laughed. God, Yelena missed it. 
“Sorry FRIDAY,” you smiled. “This is my first hologram.” You looked at Yelena and the air left her lungs. My malen'koye solnyshko (little sun),” she never thought she would hear you say that name. You didn’t say anything but stared ahead. “You are the first letter I’ve written because there is so much I want to say but I don’t know where to start,” you let out a shaky breath. “I am so proud of you. Over the past few years, I looked up all the different missions you and Nat did with SHIELD and the Avengers and you did amazing things. You saved so many people and I am speechless about the woman you’ve become. You aren’t that scared little girl that came running to me when it thundered,” Yelena was still scared of them. “You are brave, wise, smart, and beautiful. You-” Your voice cracked. “Wanda said to me that you wished we had more time together and so do I but it's,” you sighed. Yelena could see the tears running down your cheeks and she knew her face mirrored you. “I want to say it’s okay but we both know it’s not. The world can be a cruel place full of darkness and loss and death and you begin to wonder if what we do is worth it. Because as soon as we remove one man from power another will take its place and the cycle will continue.” You sighed, running your hands through your hair. 
“We’ve seen that darkness. You, Natasha, and I were subjected to it and forced to be a part of it. So yes, the world is dark but it’s also beautiful. I got to see a small glimpse of the life you and Natasha created. I watched the sun rise and fall on the compound and count the stars. There are so many stars in the sky I must have been too busy to look up. 
“And no your back and I’m gone. My malen'koye solnyshko (little sun). You bring so much light into this beautiful world. Please don’t let my death darken it,” you smiled, wiping away your tears. “Also, be nice to Natasha this wasn’t her fault and I know she’s blaming herself. You guys are going to be just fine. Do you know why?”
“Why?” Yelena found herself asking. 
“Because my sisters are the strongest in the world,” you mimicked Alexei’s accent which caused Yelena to laugh. “You're my hero Yelena. Thank you for allowing me to be your sister. I love you.” The hologram disappeared. Her room was quiet besides the pounding of her heart. 
“You are my hero, sestra,” Yelena whispered. “You are mine. 
*     
Natasha woke up and saw Yelena sleeping next to her. Her cheeks had tear stains. She slowly sat up but the movement caused Yelena to groan, her eyes fluttering open. “Go back to sleep,” she whispered. Yelena nodded, her eyes already closed. Natasha got out of bed and took the envelope out of the nightstand. On quiet feet, she ventured out of the house. She sat on the grass and opened the envelope. She pulled out a sticky note with a micro SD card and wrote on it, ‘Throw on the ground.’ Confused, Natasha threw the card on the grass and a blue hologram appeared. It was you. The day of the time heist. “You son of a bitch,” Natasha gasped. 
“Natasha,” you smiled. “I’m sorry that this has happened. I think the universe likes to keep you and me and Yelena apart. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t together or a family.” You sighed, rubbing the back of your head. “I’m not sure what words to say to make this better. Maybe I’m not supposed to make it better, it’s going to be your new normal,” you threw your hands to the side. “I don’t know what to say to you, Nat. I want to give you some sisterly advice or thank you for those 5 years we had together or how much you mean to me as a sister but I think you know that, right?” Your voice was so soft and quiet. “I know you know. I’d do anything for you and Yelena even if a certain redhead reminded me that we weren't,” you teased. Natasha rolled her eyes. “I guess I’ll give you this. No more guilt, okay? And I know I saw that like it was the easiest thing in the world and I know it isn’t. But everything that has happened to me and every girl that was part of the Red Room was not your fault. One person can not save the world, that’s too much pressure. 
“I won’t keep this long because I don’t want this to be a goodbye letter. So get out from behind your desk. Find love. Get married. Buy a house with a white picnic fence and a big yard for your dog and kids. Live. Because life,” your hologram looked over your shoulder. Natasha remembered you had a window in your room, you must have looked at it but your hologram turned to look at the Russian sunset. “Is beautiful.” Natasha felt tears run down her cheeks. “Don’t cry for me. I’ll be with you always.” 
Natasha looked over her shoulder to see Yelena walking over to her with a blanket over her shoulders. She smiled at the hologram version of you as it disappeared. She sat down next to Natasha, putting the blanket over her shoulders. The sun was slowly rising into the sky, indicating a new day. For the first time in a long time, Natasha took a deep breath in and slowly let it out and her guilt wasn’t as crushing. It would take time for the hurt to ease but she felt free.
*
You watched your sister look towards the Russian sunrise. With a smile, you walked over to Natasha and sat down next to her. You loved the color of the sky in the morning. ‘Come on, kid,’ you turned around to see Tony. ‘We can’t stay.’ You looked back at your sisters. 
‘I think I’ll stay,’ you said. ‘I’d like to see where life takes them.’ 
Fin. 
_
This was fun! Sorry everyone
540 notes · View notes