#clintasha advent 2023

[quietlyimplode]

Clintasha Advent (6)

Prompt Clint & Nat in her early Shield days: she doesn't understand the act of giving presents without expecting anything in return and/or doesn't want to accept a present as she doesn't want to be even more in Clint's dept (in her way of thinking). Have a wonderful Advent season!

For/Prompter: @callousedhandskindhearts

Warnings: much of this is under the cut because a lot refers to quid-pro-quo gifting, and what that meant for the girls in the red room. There is nothing graphic in there as it’s all conversations.

Word count: 680

A/N: if I had the time, I’d make this longer. I hope your advent season is also lovely.

.

Clint looks at the candle Maria shows him.

“I think she needs something different than a candle,” he tells her, smelling it then putting back.

The shopping centre felt like a bust.

“What are we going to do with her at Christmas?” Maria asks, holding up another for him to smell.

“She’s not a lost dog,” he replies disdainfully.

“Do you think she even understands the concept?”

The words feel offensive to Clint as he looks at his friend with a disapproving frown.

“I’m not being mean,” she starts.

“I’m just saying, that if you give her something and she has nothing to give you, do you think that she’ll feel obliged to give you something… you know, in the way that she previously been made to?”

Clint feels his heart sink.

He understands what Maria is getting at.

“You’re not being mean, but calling her a whore?”

Maria hits him.

“No, you know that’s not what I meant. I’ve been by your side for this journey. I’m the one that’s been debriefing her, just like you have, and we both know how she reacts to being given things. She either doesn’t take it, or feels the need to give something back. Remember the bed incident?”

Clint remembers.

Natasha hadn’t slept in it until he flat out asked her why.

He wishes he hadn’t heard it.

How the girls of the red room had to earn their bed and then been chained to them. How’d she’d asked, standing tall across for him if Sheild was the same.

He’d wanted to be sick as he hold her no, nothing in the room required any sacrifice of self.

Clint stops in front of the books and groans.

“Can you talk to her about it?”

Maria picks up a best seller and puts it back.

“Me? Why can’t you?”

Clint shrugs, “I dunno, it just feels weird.”

Rolling her eyes, Maria agrees, she can read in between the lines, and knows the looks between them.

She throws the candle at Clint.

“Get this for Coulson,” she laughs.

.

Maria waits until she’s driving in the car with Natasha, the invitation accepted with encouragement from Clint and suspicious look.

Maria gets the feeling that Natasha only agreed because she wanted to say something too.

They’re ten miles into a drive before Natasha speaks.

“Clint is going to get me something for Christmas isn’t he?”

Maria hazards a look at her.

Natasha’s eyes look out the window.

“Does it worry you?”

They may as well cut to the crux of the matter.

“Yes.”

Maria wants to put her at ease, but likely it’s not the easiest thing to do.

“Would you prefer he didn’t?”

Natasha doesn’t answer straight away.

“Where I come from, presents and gifts don’t mean what they do here. To accept it, it means unlearning a lot.”

Maria is quiet.

She understands.

She doesn’t want to.

“Does Christmas have the same… trauma?”

Maria knows it’s the wrong word and probably too forward but she’s wondering if there’s a way that they can celebrate without triggering her. Without it being a day that Natasha would rather stay in her pyjamas and read a book.

The non answer is probably all she’s going to get.

“For the record, it doesn’t mean the same here, a gift is just a gift. Nothing needs to be reciprocated, you’re not in anyone’s debt.”

Maria turns into the car park.

“I’m always in his debt. These little things just cement it further.”

Maria opens her car door, then moves around to Natasha’s.

“Why are we here?”

Maria nods to the large shopping Centre.

“I’ve got some shopping to do, and you’re going to help me.”

.

1/ Clint/Nat/Laura + traditions

2/ Clintasha + temporary blindness

3/ Clint/Nat/Maria + traditions

4/ Natasha and Yelena watch the stars

5/ Clintasha - stab wounds + wrapping presents

[caiti-creative-corner]

Title: A Snowy Adventure Prompt: Road Trip Artist: Caiti Relationship: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Rating: G Note: Should any of my mood boards prompt a fic, please link me so I can enjoy and brag! But please - take this as permission to write it!!

[quietlyimplode]

Clintasha Advent (2)

Prompt: Clintasha - temporary blindness

For/Prompter: @firlalaith

Warnings: Nil

Word count: 640

A/N: fatigue pulls in a way I wish it didn’t. I hope the day and nights are kind <3

.

“I can’t see,” she says, far too calmly.

“What?” Clint looks at her, the explosion causing his ears to fail again.

“I can’t see,” she says, as he reads her lips.

“I think.. I looked, the flash bang, I fell, my head, the light, I looked, I know I shouldn’t have, I wanted to see if he was there, still following us, and as I did.. As I did Clint, it detonated. I can’t see. I can’t see,” she says, growing more panicked as words come out like vomit.

She rubs her eyes, once twice, and then a third time before Clint pulls her hands away.

“No, wait,” he says, “be gentle.”

“I can’t see,” she says, perseverating on the words.

“I know, and it’s going to be okay, okay? Just like Grenada? Keep walking, hold my hand.”

She does as he asks, the explosion still hot on their back as they move.

“I can’t see,” she moans as they walk.

He knows it’s panic.

It’s also the last thing she says as he guides her through the streets, then pushes her into a car.

“You with me?” he asks, stopping at a red light and looking her over, her eyes squeezed closed.

She makes a non committal sound and he feels her descent.

“Your eyes will be fine,” he decides.

“We’ll go see Cho, and she’ll fix it, just like she fixed my side.”

Blinking open, she squeezes them shut again.

“Natasha, stop.”

His hearing is clearing, non more tinnitus means he can hear the slight keen from her mouth every time she breathes out.

“Nat, talk,” he tries the softer approach.

He’s speeding now, exfil close. The jet leaving in twenty minutes.

One step closer to medical.

“I can’t see. I can’t see,” she chants.

He takes her hand and kisses it.

“It’s going to be fine,” he assures.

The next red light, he ploughs straight through, deeming the danger necessary.

“Almost there,” he says louder, over her whispered chant.

They arrive, Natasha face unscathed, pale and eyes wide, as she continues trying to blink them, scrunch them, rub them.

The files they stole in Clint’s left hand as he holds her with his right.

“Come with me,” he orders.

“What if it’s forever?” She whispers, clambering.

“Then we will deal with it,” he tells her pushing her up the ramp.

.

It isn’t, permanent that is, Helen assesses her, and gives her drops and wraps her head, tells her not to touch and to go slow with seeing for the next 48 hours.

“It’ll come back,” she says to Natasha’s relief, “but you need to rest it.”

It’s the two things that Natasha is bad at.

Patience with her body and resting.

She sleeps until the nightmares comes and muses with a warm drink that Clint pushed into her hands that it seems almost worse that she can’t see the world, but her mind supplies heinous images.

Clint frowns in displeasure.

“Come and listen to a book with me,” he guides, wondering at how to pass the time.

It’s a good choice.

He doesn’t know if it’s the voice of the narrator or the fact they’re squeezed together on the single seater couch, or that the nightmares seem to be receding, but he can feel her relax, then slowly; feels her body sink into sleep again.

He follows her there, the dulcet tones dragging him under.

.

He wakes and she’s not there.

Panic is his first instinct.

Wide awake and heart beating fast, he finds her unbandaged in the bathroom.

“I can see,” she whispers with a smile.

“Blurry and shapes but, I can see.”

He half smiles and pulls her into a hug.

“That’s good, Nat, that’s real good.”

.

Clint/Nat/Laura + traditions

[quietlyimplode]

Clintasha Advent (10)

Prompt: Continuation of the pineapple saga

For/Prompter: @adorationamy

Warnings: discussion of previous torture

Word count: 300 words

A/N: this genuinely made me laugh - this has been going a bit too long! I should make this into a proper fic. Maybe next year :)

This snippet had other parts - none of which is needed to have been read to read this but are below.

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four

Clint stares at Tony.

“It’s not a good story,” he says in a deadpan voice.

Tony looks at both of them eagerly, the knowledge that he’s going to learn about their histories and something he does not know, makes him hyper almost.

“It’s a good story, it’s a new story,” he grins.

Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Fine, but just remember you asked,” she says evenly.

Tony nods.

“Tell me why you don’t like pineapples.”

Natasha huffs.

“We got captured by drug dealers in Thailand. They had a pineapple farm that they hid it under.”

Clint pauses, wondering just how much to divulge.

“There was nothing to eat except pineapple,” Natasha supplies.

“They left us, for days, then they’d come in, torture us, and then leave us again.”

She gives Clint a sharp look.

“So that’s why you don’t eat them? How long were you there?” Tony still looks intrigued.

“Twenty days,” Clint swallows.

“You ever eaten anything for twenty days straight?”

Tony shakes his head, the enormity of what his friends are saying settling in.

“But someone came for you right?”

Clint shakes his head.

“Did you know, that if you eat only pineapples it makes you more hungry? Ravenous even.. All you can think about is food. Water… We didn’t know that.”

“But they did,” Natasha says quietly.

“They were just waiting for us to turn on each other.”

Clint reaches out and she meets him half way.

“We got ourselves out.”

Tony looks down.

“Happy you know?”

“No,” he replies truthfully.

“Sorry,” he follows.

Clint stands.

“Sometimes Tony, there are stories that are better you don’t know.”

Natasha is kinder.

“Maybe don’t ask next time.”

He nods, even though they all know he’s always going to ask.

They leave him to his thoughts, the sun setting leaving the room dulled.

1/ Clint/Nat/Laura + traditions

2/ Clintasha + temporary blindness

3/ Clint/Nat/Maria + traditions

4/ Natasha and Yelena watch the stars

5/ Clintasha - stab wounds + wrapping presents

6/ Clint/Nat + Maria - gift buying (early shield days)

7/ Clint/Nat - taking lucky for a walk when it starts to snow

8/ Clintasha - Christmas Lights

9/ Nat and Tony - Natasha makes Tony a present

[quietlyimplode]

Clintasha Advent

Prompt: Pairing would be Clintasha, scenario: Christmas at the barton farm for the first time alone and in peace with ✏️ (creating a new tradition) of your selection. Can be something fluffy and a bit spicy.

For/Prompter: @melaclintbartoncorner

Warnings: Nil

Word count: 536

A/N: let’s get things started! I know I said 12 prompts but I’ve taken a few more. Most prompts will be daily with sometimes a few more in. We shall see how we go. For everyone who sent in a prompt, thank you so much, your willingness to trust me with your words and ideas is always fun (and for sharing your good things and dinosaurs too). May this be a good thing too <3

———

“You’re here,” Laura says, dumbfounded staring at both of them in shock.

“You’re here!” she squeals and runs to Clint first and then pulls them both into a hug.

“You’re here!!”

Her excitement is so contagious that Natasha smiles, the laughs and then hugs her back.

“We’re here,” she agrees.

Laura steps back and looks at them both. Neither seem worse for wear. No limp, no visible bruising, both in civilian clothing and by the way they arrived, this was not an emergency.

Clint is first to talk and grins, presenting Laura with a small plant.

“For you,” he tells her.

She bursts out laughing, and ushers them both inside.

“You chopped off the head of my favourite plant, and you think you’ll be forgiven by presenting me with a plant?”

“It’s a lemon tree,” Natasha adds, helpfully.

Laura takes it and sets it on the table, then sits to look at it.

“I didn’t mean to cut off the head of your plant,” Clint pouts.

“I know, it was just my favourite,” Laura adds, turning the small plant around.

“We can plant it?” Natasha asks in a round about way.

“Maybe as a tradition?”

Clint looks directly at Laura, as if trying to tell her something with his eyes.

“Natasha has been learning about Christmas traditions,” he says, staring.

Agree with her, he says with his eyes.

Laura understands.

So much of what is normal to them, is so foreign to Natasha.

Even though Natasha was hers before she was Clints, she finds that there still seems to be so much that is foreign.

Smiling quickly, she nods.

“I think that sounds like a great tradition, Nat, soon we could have a forest.”

It’s a reassurance.

Plant a tree and come back to it to see it grow.

We will be here when you return, wherever you go.

Maybe, even further, planting roots, something perhaps Natasha has never done, always transient.

Laura looks at the little lemon tree, and the meaning she’s now attributed to it.

“Yeah. It’s a good tradition.”

.

Clint groans.

The ground hard initially but giving as he digs further.

“Who’s idea was this?”

Laura, heavily pregnant, directs him to keep going as she holds onto the hot chocolate that Natasha had handed her.

“Tradition!” she calls.

Clint looks around, finding Natasha dragging the weeping cherry from the truck.

“Do you need a hand?” he asks, then laughs at his joke as he walks to help her.

Her broken arm still the butt of some of his jokes.

“I swear Barton, if I wasn’t carrying a tree, I’d punch you,” she growls.

He laughs again, and takes it from her, pulling it towards the hole.

“Tradition,” Natasha repeats after Laura, looking around for the lemon tree, and the four others they’d planted in the subsequent years.

Laura joins them, presenting Natasha with the watering can with a picture of raindeer on it.

“Your turn to water it first,” she smiles.

Natasha looks at it seriously.

Making a wish, she pours the water out.

Taking the hot chocolate off Laura and sipping it, she nods as Clint finishes the planting.

“Tradition,” Clint says, taking a step back and admiring his work.

.

[quietlyimplode]

Clintasha Advent (9)

Prompt: This year, Steve is insisting that the team give experiences instead of presents at Christmas. Natasha draws Tony's name. What meaningful experience is she going to give a "Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.”?

For/Prompter: @millenniallust4death

Warnings: Memories of the red room dormitories - and - only that this is not re-read and as it’s written is as it’s come out so all mistakes are not intentional.

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: Gosh I enjoyed this prompt so much. Thank you for your ideas and thoughts, may this make this month one iota lighter for you. Sending all the hugs.

.

“Who do you have?” Clint asks again.

“No,” Natasha responds, “it’s a KK - you don’t get to know.”

“But you’ve been working hard on something, I just want to know who,” he pouts.

“It’s not for you,” she argues, waving him off.

“I know, because if I have Steve, and Bruce is taking Thor to a baseball game as their adventure, oh wait,” he turns, “I’m an idiot. Of course you have Tony.”

Natasha shrugs.

“Took far to long to get there, Barton,” she smiles.

“Ok, so now tell me what you’re doing.”

Shaking her head, there’s a pause.

“What do you get the man who has everything?”

Clint shrugs, “the man who can get anything for himself too.”

He can feel the walls lowering, doubt creeping into whatever Natasha had thought of.

“It’s… an adventure,” she admits.

Clint waits, wanting her to say more, and knowing she will if he waits.

“What’s the one thing he always wants? Always wants more of?”

Clint thinks.

He knows his friend.

“Alcohol and knowledge,” he smiles.

“Right, but the former, he promised Pepper about, and the latter, well, he’s too smart for his own good. He knows things and can put them together before someone has even blinked.”

“He likes tech?” Clint says unhelpfully.

Natasha nods.

She looks at him and feels the conversation may not be a waste.

“Actually,” she decides, “you can help.”

Clint perks up, and nods, he likes helping, being included in Natasha’s present schemes.

She leads him to her own lab, the VR headset sitting in the middle.

“It’s rudimentary,” she tells him.

“What is it?”

“It recreates places.”

Clint frowns.

“I don’t get it.”

Natasha nods, seemingly anticipating this.

Opening her laptop, she types in coding, and sighs, backspacing two lines and then starting again.

“Tell me somewhere that you can see in your mind, tell me what you can remember from it.”

Clint thinks of his childhood bedroom.

“White walls, posters on the walls, small bookshelf in the corner. A window, a dirty one, a bed in the corner, a ball on the floor.”

It’s how he left it.

“How old are you in the room?”

“Seven?”

He sees what’s she’s doing as she programs the other other parameters, the town he lived, his approximate age, the age of the room and everything else she can think of.

“Put on the headset,” she points.

He does, and finds himself in his childhood bedroom.

The ai, recreating the room from the date, the time period, his description and musings.

“What? How?”

He looks around. Posters, the set up of the room.

“My bed had cars on it,” he remembers, and the bed changes before him.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

He can almost hear footsteps on the stairs.

“Can I see?” Natasha asks.

Without speaking, he hands the headset over.

“An American bedroom,” she smiles.

“Tony can do anything, but this might be something new,” Clint tells her.

“Steve did say an experience,” Natasha shrugs,

“You do one,” Clint says, curiously.

Natasha nods, as though she was expecting it.

She doesn’t always default to offering a piece of herself for someone else, but in this case, perhaps she feels it’s necessary.

Seeing Clint’s childhood room, she offers her own.

He glances at some of the coding, surprised to find that there’s preprogrammed places.

The file of the Red Room has seven locations.

“Don’t,” she requests softly.

“Just the dormitories,” he loads the file and she takes the headset, looking into the room and taking steps forward into it.

She’s hesitant to hand them over, but she does anyway.

Clint looks at her, uncertain now.

“Are you sure?”

She shrugs.

“I’ll delete the others, but I suppose I should have something to show him.”

It makes sense to Clint, now, the long hours working on this project.

He places the headset on.

It’s grey, 6 beds lined up, handcuffs glistening and waiting. Threadbare linens on the beds and thin mattresses.

Bars on the windows.

Bars on the door.

Locks on the inside of the doors seems like a strange choice.

He walks towards it, and he wonders if Natasha can see what he does.

“They’d make us lock ourselves in,” she clarifies as he reaches out.

He takes the headset off, the trepidation of being stuck in the locked dormitory feeling too ominous.

“A happy place,” he demands, and she smiles at his feelings.

“Here,” she supplies.

He puts them back on.

“The cabin!”

His delight at seeing it, all round him, shows.

“There’s even the crocheted blankets,” he grins.

“Show him this,” he decides for her, the memory of little Natasha sleeping in a cold dormitory, lined up with six other little girls, locking themselves in and locking themselves up a little too much. Knowing it happened is one thing, seeing it feels… too much.

He becomes lost in thought.

“Where do you think Tony would go?” he asks, imagining a strip club, or maybe a party.

He hands Natasha the headset, and she plugs it back in. Clint watches her update some software, and then shuts down the program and the computer.

“Do you think it’s too much? That he won’t like it? He can improve on it, it’s more just a prototype,” she says biting down on the side of her finger.

“I think he’s going to love it,” he assures her.

.

“It’s my present, isn’t it?” Tony says, bouncing in a way only he can.

Christmas Eve seemed like the only time that Natasha felt comfortable in giving him his gift. Close enough to Christmas but not a shock on the actual day.

She almost felt nervous.

“If you don’t like it, or it doesn’t work, it’s not my fault okay?”

Tony grumbles, his eyes still blindfolded.

“Just show me, I’m sure I’m going to love it.”

“Okay, but let me explain first.”

Tony stops moving almost sensing the seriousness in her voice.

“Fine, can I take the blindfold off?”

Natasha eases it off his head and he looks around to find the VR set close by.

“You’re hard to buy for, you know? It’s like.. What do you get someone who has done everything, has everything and doesn’t want anything?”

She hands him the set.

“So I made you something.”

He looks at her curiously.

“It’s a recreation device, it’s probably not as good as what you could of done.. But…”

She turns on the system.

“Tell me a place you’ve been, that you’ve always wanted to go back to.”

Tony frowns, thinking and not quite understanding.

“Um,” he pauses.

Natasha considers that it could be a personal question.

“Tell me about Pepper’s apartment,” he prompts.

“Um. It’s spacious, there’s art on the wall. Monet I think. She’s got a big kitchen, that leads into the dining room and the table is big. Always has paperwork on it.”

As he speaks the words the place comes to life through the headset, and he gasps.

“Do you know what you’ve done?”

She isn’t sure what he means.

“Here, hold this,” he hands her the VR headset.

He takes the computer and adds code in.

“You’ve done a great job,” he smiles, turning it to show her.

“We can turn it to holograms, but that might be something for later, here, it’s voice activated now so you don’t have to type it in. Describe a place,” he offers.

“You do it,” she replies, smiling.

“Nat, this is great, thank you,” he says genuinely.

He then launches into describing a room, a bedroom she thinks, a kids one at that.

“Who’s is it?”she asks curiously.

“Mine,” he says softly, “my mother decorated it when I was little before my father changed it.”

“It was blue, with rabbits on the edge, a chair we used to to sit in and read together. I learnt in her lap.”

Natasha takes the headset for him and sees it.

“It looks so cozy,” she says smiling, handing it back.

“Anyway, Merry Christmas. I just wanted to give you something that… Well something that you didn’t have.”

Tony looks up then.

Takes the headset off and looks at her sincerely.

“Thank you, Natasha, this is… way better than what I got Barton.”

They both laugh.

“Do you want me to stay?” she asks.

“No… I think… I’ll be playing with this for a while,” he laughs, “I’ll see you at breakfast though?”

She groans.

“Please get some sleep, Pepper will kill me.”

Natasha taps the headset.

“See you tomorrow, Shellhead.”

.

1/ Clint/Nat/Laura + traditions

2/ Clintasha + temporary blindness

3/ Clint/Nat/Maria + traditions

4/ Natasha and Yelena watch the stars

5/ Clintasha - stab wounds + wrapping presents

6/ Clint/Nat + Maria - gift buying (early shield days)

7/ Clint/Nat - taking lucky for a walk when it starts to snow

8/ Clintasha - Christmas Lights

[quietlyimplode]

Clintasha Advent (3)

Prompt: Maybe like a mixture of making own holiday traditions and no where to go, with Clint/Nat or Maria/Nat (your choice !!).

For/Prompter: @emmeywemmy (sorry couldn’t decide on which pairing so it became all of them.. <3)

Warnings: childhood stories but nothing graphic

Word count: 770

A/N: I may not continue posting daily, but will do as many as I can <3

——

“Never have I ever,” Maria starts, bouncing the ball over to Clint.

“No,” he vetos, “with the two of you playing, I’ll lose, get drunk and then who knows what you’ll go.”

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Natasha supplies, Clint bouncing the ball over to her.

“Boring,” Maria tells her.

“Hangman?”

The ball moves from Maria to Clint again, as Clint and Natasha share a look.

“No hangman, no tic tac toe,” he says, saying what Natasha is thinking.

“I’m out of ideas,” he groans, throwing the ball.

“Stories?” Natasha asks, bouncing the ball across.

“I don’t know how to play that,” Maria tells her, even though it’s met with a laugh from the red head.

Clint passes the ball.

“No,” Natasha says, “like we just tell some stories.”

Maria sits up intrigued.

Natasha never wants to tell stories about herself.

“Like two truths and a lie?” Clint clarifies.

Natasha shrugs.

“Sure we can play like that.”

The church bell rings, and Clint stops talking, wishing they weren’t hiding out in the middle of a church on one of its busiest days of the year.

The ball moves from Natasha to Maria and they wait for it to finish it’s song.

“Okay, two truths an a lie, do you want to go first?”

Natasha throws the ball back at him; hard, reversing the chain.

“Ow-hey, what? You came up with the game,” he defends.

“You go first,” she says with a huff.

“Okay fine,” he twirls the ball in his hand.

“I can draw, I have a middle name, I’m allergic to legumes,” he says, throwing the ball to Maria.

“Legumes?”

“You can’t draw?”

The refutes come together and he shrugs.

“Chose one.”

Maria and Natasha look at each other, unspoken in their communication.

“Drawing,” they say simultaneously.

Clint shakes his head.

“Legumes.”

Natasha frowns.

The ball back to Maria gives her the next turn.

“I can’t feel a portion of my leg, my mother named me after her, I visit a cemetery every Christmas.”

Clint and Natasha stare.

The game feeling oddly personal now.

“Sorry,” Maria apologises, feeling like she’s stepped over a line.

“No,” Clint refutes.

“Your mother?” Natasha tries, to which Clint nods in agreement.

Maria nods.

“Yeah, too easy.”

“Who do you visit?” Natasha asks.

It’s usually Clint whose the one to ask personal questions, but the untold story draws Natasha in.

“My brother,” Maria sighs, “he was a force. The one who’d make family gatherings worth it. KIA. I’ll visit when we get home. He won’t mind a couple of days being late,” she finishes.

The matter of family and siblings sends both Natasha and Clint quiet.

“I learnt English in Ohio, I’m immune to a black widow bite, I once licked a frog to seduce a mark.”

The last one throws Clint hard.

“Just when I think I know all the things about you,” he laughs.

Natasha is far too quick.

“Barton, you’ll never know everything about me,” she blinks slowly.

“Stop flirting,” Maria laughs, catching the ball Matasha throws.

Clint likes his tongue out.

“Clearly, it’s the black widow bite,” Maria guesses.

Natasha shakes her head.

“Nope, they named us after black widows, it was one of the things they made us immune to,” she nods.

“The frog then?” Clint guesses.

“Nope,” Natasha shakes her her.

“Ohio?” they both guess, simultaneously.

Natasha nods.

“I learnt on Russia, on American cartoons.”

Pieces fall into place for Clint.

“Oh that’s why you don’t like Disney Classics.”

Natasha nods.

Clint feels sadness roll over him that his favourite classics are tainted, and likely he’ll never get to share them with his best friend.

The ball passes to Maria.

“My go again?”

Clint nods.

“We should just make a run for it,” she tells the other two.

“You’re turn,” Natasha says insistently, clearly having fun.

“It’s the 23rd of December, how about, next year we do more?” She avoids.

She’s lucky really, the mark enters the church and Maria turns into the militaristic personality that Natasha doesn’t love.

The parabolic mic is directioned to the meeting and Natasha watches the recording commitment.

Clint already in position to shoot, his finger on the trigger as they all listen to the rhetoric and hate speech.

Maria’s voice is low.

“Next year,” she whispers.

“We’ll play again next year.”

1/ Clint/Nat/Laura + traditions

2/ clintasha + temporary blindness

[quietlyimplode]

Clintasha Advent (5)

Prompt: stab wound + wrapping presents

For/Prompter: @broken--bow

Warnings: stab wounds

Word count: 270

A/N: friend this is a short one but it makes up for the next one that’s longer <3

.

“You’re bleeding on the paper,” Clint points out.

Natasha looks down and lifts her top, the bandage seeping red as a bead rolls down.

She moves to wipe it and groans.

“I just wrapped that.”

Clint continues wrapping the present for Steve, the colourful socks easy to cover.

“Just cover it over, Tony won’t notice.”

Natasha grumbles.

“No, no, I’ll start again.”

Clint looks over to her.

“Do you want me to rewrap it?” he says with a grin, pointing to her abdomen.

“Barton, I know you think your play on words are funny, but they’re not.”

Clint picks up the ribbon and ties it, holding up.

“They’re knot?” he says, making a bow on it.

“Ugh, that’s bad, even for you.”

Clint laughs.

“Come here,” he tells her, leaving for the bathroom and coming back with medical supplies.

“Take your top off,” he orders.

“Woo a girl first,” she mumbles, taking it off and wincing.

Clint’s face is serious, as he takes the old bandage off and pulling it from her skin.

“Sorry,” he winces.

The stab wound weeps.

“Trust you to get stabbed with a fork,” he tells her, wiping it with alcohol, ignoring her sharp intake of breath.

“Not a fork, a sodegamari,” she corrects.

He shrugs.

“Whatever it looks like a fork. Just because it’s an old school Japanese weapon, you don’t get to call it a fancy name and brush it off.”

Natasha bristles.

“Come on, we need to get ready,” he tells her, placing the last bit of tape on to hold the bandage down.

“What no other jokes?”

Clint looks at her seriously.

“That’s a wrap?”

.

1/ Clint/Nat/Laura + traditions

2/ clintasha + temporary blindness

3/ Clint/Nat/Maria + traditions

4/ Natasha and Yelena watch the stars

[quietlyimplode]

Clintasha Advent (8)

Prompt: Clintasha - Christmas Lights

For/Prompter: @oceanspirit9

Warnings: fluff(yes I know)

Word count: 711

A/N: this had the option of going two ways. I think I liked this one more. <3 thank you for the prompt, I hope that it’s something like you were thinking.

.

8am.

The house is small, but it doesn’t dissuade Clint. Natasha arrives at 7pm and he’s convinced he can get it done. Grinning, he cups his coffee and sips it slowly, the plan forming in his head.

First, he need to shower and get rid of the cobwebs of sleep, then fold the clothes they’d left strewn everywhere.

Both had left in an emergency mission, on opposite sides of the country. Natasha travelling further to Maine whilst Clint travelled to California.

She’s promised she’s be back by Christmas, knowing how much it meant to him for them to be together on a day that religiously meant nothing but sentimentality meant a lot.

He takes out the lights and stares at the tangle.

10am.

Plugging in the first set, he decides that these are the ones for the trees. The two little Christmas trees that stand at their front door, are easily dressed.

He stands up and looks to where he wants to hang the house decorations and wishes he’d asked Steve for some help, maybe even Tony.

Some super strength and the ability to fly would really help.

But it’s just him.

And he will have to do.

The next set of lights are larger. More tangled.

He sighs and gets to work.

12pm.

Rubbing his hands together, Clint begins to climb the ladder, focusing carefully on each of his steps as he adjusts the string of lights in his hands.

He thanks Barney for teaching him how to step easily and lightly on high platforms and then starts to place the lights.

He smiles to himself, a song in his step as clips them on the lights, focussing on placing them all along the side of the house.

Clint slips, steadys himself and focuses on the next.

He ticks off in his head what’s next.

Roof done, small trees, he thinks he wants to place the the little tiny light up trees on the path.

Deciding on doing that first, before lunch, he climbs off the roof and turns them on.

Heh, he thinks, he doesn’t need super strength or the ability to fly.

He’s got mad skills.

2pm.

Clint looks around the house, he feels himself losing steam. He’s done so much in the opening hours of the day that fatigue pulls at him.

He’s ready for a nap.

4pm.

He doesn’t want to get up, the warm sun making him feel like a cat in a patch of light. Thirty minutes, he thinks, then he’ll start making dinner.

5.30pm.

Clint awakes with a start.

Shit.

He’s overslept.

He wanted to make her favourite to go with the lights.

He turns them on anyway, the sky darkening as if to invite the lights on.

Tiny little light globes light his world, their colours making the outside and the inside of the house glow.

He loves it. He knows she’s going to as well.

Starting on dinner, he puts on Christmas music, letting it echo throughout the house.

He gets a message on his phone as he puts the dinner in the oven, with two words that makes him grin.

“Almost home.”

7pm.

Natasha yawns.

Paying the driver, she steps out and pulls her bag with her.

All she wants is food and a shower.

She knows Clint has the former sorted as he’d sent her photos but the latter felt like a marathon.

Until.

She sees the house in all its glory.

Bright lights adorn the outside, outlining the house. Thousands of lights shining. She walks the path of small little lights in the shapes of trees and then finds Clint standing at the door with a Christmas hat on.

“What do you think?”

She has no words.

Maybe it’s that no one has bothered to do anything like this for her before. Never had made something for her.

“I love it,” she says in awe.

“Thank you.”

She kisses him at the door and he grabs her bag helping her inside.

“I made your favourite,” he smiles.

“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and I get to spend it with you.”

She can’t help but smile, hiding her face, overcome with emotion as tears well at the gesture.

“Go shower,” Clint prompts.

“I’ll be waiting when you get back.”

.

1/ Clint/Nat/Laura + traditions

2/ Clintasha + temporary blindness

3/ Clint/Nat/Maria + traditions

4/ Natasha and Yelena watch the stars

5/ Clintasha - stab wounds + wrapping presents

6/ Clint/Nat + Maria - gift buying (early shield days)

7/ Clint/Nat - taking lucky for a walk when it starts to snow

[quietlyimplode]

Clintasha Advent (7)

Prompt: Clint/Nat - walking Lucky when it starts to snow.

For/Prompter: @broken--bow

Warnings: despondency/sadness/being emotionally triggered

Word count: 738

A/N: i know you asked for Clint/Nat and this is kind of alluding to the relationship, but more Nat centric. Likely not what you were expecting but what came out today <3 I hope it’s okay.

.

There’s a heaviness on her.

The day was all wrong, and disappointment on what couldn’t be fixed; hurt.

She hated being let down.

She hates even more that she had hoped that she wouldn’t be let down, and knew that she would in the same breath.

Despite what she hoped, there was no way that Yelena would come.

Even if she wanted to.

Grief bubbles.

.

Natasha feels despondent.

She finds herself pacing in the house, wasting time, wanting to find peace in sleep to make the feelings stop, but knowing it would worry Clint if she did.

Instead, she told him she was fine.

Sad; but okay. She wasn’t lying but then again, it’s not like she was being truthful to herself when she said the words.

Grief bubbles.

Yelena would maybe appear again.

One day.

.

The day drones.

Clint, of course, had tried to help, but there was no fixing the sad that pulled, the slight desolation and despondency that she knew was just a part of her.

He helps her to eat by cooking.

He distracts her with anecdotes and stories

It was, easier, perhaps to keep at bay when everything wasn’t piled on top of her.

It’s not just Yelena, she determines eventually.

Natasha thinks that maybe she just feels sad.

She’d been looking forward to the day.

Had hope for it.

Maybe that was her first mistake.

The one day off, that had promised and started with some good in it, some hope and delight.

The day had not ended as it started.

Grief bubbles.

Natasha sighs.

Grabbing the lead, she puts it on Lucky.

Clint appears at the door and she waved him off.

“I just need to clear my head,” she tells him, biting her lip.

He heads back into the study to finish his paperwork, and calls out to her to not be too long.

She doesn’t plan to be.

.

It’s cold.

She adjusts her beanie and gloves.

Her skin started crawling an hour ago and she hoped the fresh air will help.

The sadness that had been chasing her since the afternoon threatens.

The grief that had been simmering, bubbling, growling, makes itself known.

She walks on.

A soft trigger maybe.

An emotional trigger.

Worse than obvious external ones, her internal triggers forced her to analyse what had happened and why she was feeling the way she was.

Sad.

Despondent.

Grief ridden.

The cold air, Lucky in hand, gave her that space.

As soon as she steps out the door, Natasha feels the tears in her eyes.

Steps towards the street, make her breathing uneven and by the time she gets to the park, there’s tears falling.

Lucky trots happily beside her, unaware of her sadness. His tail wags and hits her leg on every second step and she tries to bring her emotions back under control.

The therapist would tell her to keep going, keep crying until it was spent, but she’s not quite ready for the heaving emotions that threaten.

Natasha breathes heavily.

She doesn’t like crying so openly.

She knows she needs to get it back under control before she heads back.

There’s still time.

They head down past the park towards the grocery story that has Clint’s favourite ice cream.

She focuses on her breathing, wiping at her face.

In and out.

It stops the tears.

If she doesn’t think of the trigger, she can ignore the feeling.

Lucky stops at the traffic lights.

He looks up and she looks up with him, trusting his intuition.

The first drop of snow lands on her nose.

The second on her face.

Then, more.

It seems to Natasha that the heaviness in sky, in the world; had also had to let it go.

Unable to hold onto it anymore.

She’s appreciative.

The world is in solidarity.

Slowing her breathing more at they walk, Natasha starts the walk back home.

.

“It’s snowing?” Clint asks as she walks through the door.

Natasha nods.

She doesn’t feel like speaking.

She takes the lead off Lucky, pats him and whispers to him that he’s a good dog.

She’s glad she can go to bed soon.

“The heaters on,” Clint tells her.

She’s thankful.

The sadness sits, but after the tears it doesn’t feel so heavy.

Maybe there’s more to be said for letting it out.

Natasha sighs, sits on the couch, and hopes that tomorrow will be lighter.

.

1/ Clint/Nat/Laura + traditions

2/ Clintasha + temporary blindness

3/ Clint/Nat/Maria + traditions

4/ Natasha and Yelena watch the stars

5/ Clintasha - stab wounds + wrapping presents

6/ Clint/Nat + Maria - gift buying (early shield days)

[quietlyimplode]

Clintasha Advent (4)

Prompt: Yelena and Natasha look at the stars

For/Prompter: @anon

Warnings: domestic violence alluded to

Word count: 330

A/N: anon, this one endeared me. Ty for the prompt.

.

“Do you think there are aliens up there?”

Yelena looks up, the stars bright in the night sky.

“Say it again,” Natasha prompts, in Russian.

Yelena sighs.

“Do you think there are strange…” Yelena starts in Russian.

“I don’t want to, it’s too hard.”

Natasha looks at her sharply. Panic curls within her. She’s been trying all night to hold back the tears she knows will come when she’s in bed.

Melina told her, that one day she’s going back. She’d finally gathered enough bravery to call her Mom; but the words had been met with a backhand to the face, followed by a hug.

“Don’t,” Melina had said; “you’re going back one day. Don’t trust anyone, unless you can use them.”

She’d then caressed Natasha’s red cheek and kissed the top of her head.

“Pain only makes you stronger, Natalia. And you will be the strongest.”

Natasha swallows the memory.

“You have to learn,” she says bluntly.

“The word you’re looking for is…”

But Yelena never learns the word.

The shouting inside becomes too loud for them to hear anything.

Straining their ears, Natasha decides that the language they’re yelling in is too foreign. Some words she picks up, the Slavic roots making sense, but the rest… she doesn’t know.

Natasha stands, holding her hand out for Yelena, who takes it and brushes herself off.

“Do you want to climb that tree over there?” Natasha points out.

Yelena laughs, despite the tension and runs to the tree.

Natasha chasing her in the dark.

They climb up, the muscle memory familiar, easily making it to the canopy.

Yelena looks up to the sky.

“Why do you want me to learn Russian, Nat?”

Natasha doesn’t want to tell her that if she doesn’t know Russian, she’ll die quicker in the Red Room. Or that knowing Russian will be important for when they…

She swallows the fear that rises in her and canters over her in waves.

“Just look at the stars ‘Lena,” she says quietly.

.

[quietlyimplode]

Clintasha Advent (11)

Prompt: volunteering together at a local charity” + a dog + “sprained ankle”

For/Prompter: @agentsofpuppies

Warnings: injury

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: sometimes the pet picks you. You didn’t specify ship… and the name was just plucked (do with that what you will hah) - on my head Lucky is as clumsy as Clint. I hope that Christmas is as fun as Halloween (tree pics pls).

.

“LUCKY! No!”

He sees it happening before it all goes horribly wrong. The lead wraps around the woman and Lucky jumps, just as Clint tries to pull him back.

The woman.

The poor woman, who is holding two boxes falls dramatically, crying out.

“Oh no!” Clint exclaims, rushing to her as the box flies up and Lucky wags his tail.

“I am so sorry,” he apologises once.

The woman grabs at her ankle, her face white as Clint assesses over her.

“Are you alright?”

She shakes her head, a small tear falling.

“My ankle,” she squeaks.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, I’ll call an ambulance,” he tells her, pulling out his phone.

“No! It’s okay, I’m okay,” the woman stutters.

He frowns; assessing the woman and wondering what to do next.

Natasha is the only one he can think

“My partner, she’s a nurse, she can come help, can I call her?”

The woman must be in pain, because she nods once, and shuffles into a sitting position.

Clint wiggles his jacket off and puts it on the floor.

“Here, better than the cold ground,” he nods, then calls Natasha, hoping she’ll know exactly what to do.

“Hey,” she answers, “what do you want for dinner? We have…”

“Nat,” he says urgently, “Lucky’s crashed into someone and really hurt them.”

Clint looks to the Lucky who’s cocking his head in confusion, looking from the woman to Clint.

“You’re a bad dog,” he growls, meanly.

“Clint!” Natasha says down the phone.

“He is! He hurt her and now she’s sitting on the sidewalk. Can you come have a look at her?”

He hears her pick up her keys, and sigh.

“Where are you?”

Clint looks.

“Just before you get to the park, on the right hand side. You’ll see us.”

Natasha locks the door.

“I’ll be there in five.”

Clint hangs up, and turns his attention back to the woman.

“I am sorry,” he says again, “she’s coming, and she’ll help.”

He says it convincingly and the woman nods, a small bit of colour back in her face.

“I’m Clint,” he offers.

“Laura,” the woman replies.

“Can you.. Um, can you tell your dog that he’s not a bad dog?”

He looks over to Lucky.

The dog, just looks sad, eyeing the boxes, and then the two humans now staring at him.

Clint thinks that if he could put his paws on this head, he would.

“You’re not a bad dog,” Clint concedes.

Lucky’s tail wags slowly, then goes first to Clint and then to the woman as if to apologise.

“I was on my way to the animal shelter,” the woman, Laura, tells him.

“He must have smelled the treats,” she nods at the boxes.

“Oh?”

Clint pats Lucky, and then commands him into sitting, before waving to Natasha.

“Laura, this is Natasha,” he introduces.

Natasha smiles and nods.

“Hi,” she says gently.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to do much,” she admits looking at Laura’s ankle, “but we can get you to the doctor?”

Laura huffs.

“I need to deliver the boxes to the shelter,” she groans.

Clint waves her off.

“Don’t worry, we can do that, I promise, we can even volunteer for a bit, on your behalf.”

Natasha gives him a look, and he shrugs.

“It’s the least we could do, but only if I can give you my number and you can tell me if you need anything?”

Laura nods, accepts the help up from both Natasha and Clint and they manage to get her to a cab.

“It’s safe with us,” Clint promises, the boxes in his arms, Lucky and Natasha looking on,

Laura nods.

“I’ll ring the shelter later,” she tells him, and with that she leaves Natasha glaring at Clint.

“We’ll even volunteer?” she repeats, making him shrink back.

“We?” she clarifies.

He holds up his hands.

“Sorry? I just said it, I felt bad, and he’s a bad dog and he barrelled into her, and what if she sues us!?”

Natasha grabs Lucky, and pats him.

“You’re not a bad dog,” she tells him then glares at Clint.

He starts to walk towards the shelter on the corner, Natasha and Lucky in tow.

“You’ve volunteered before, what’s the big deal?”

“It was for a mission! It doesn’t count,” Natasha defends.

There’s silence as they walk up, both lost in thoughts.

A man greets them at the door, looking at them confused.

“Uhhhh,” Clint starts, “Laura sent us, she needed to go to the doctor because, our dog, well he knocked into her and she fell. But she said she was coming here, she said that she was planning to volunteer but I think she can’t now; you know because of her ankle.”

Lucky whines, breaking Clint’s monologue.

The man opens the door wider.

He smiles and welcomes them.

“Laura’s already called. She’s at the doctor, she’ll be here later.”

Natasha enters first, Lucky behind her, then Clint.

The shelter is bigger than they thought.

The smell familiar of what Natasha remembers as she follows the man who directs Clint to put the boxes on the table.

“I’m Natasha,” Natasha offers, “and he’s Clint and this is Lucky.”

“He’s volunteered our services on behalf of Laura.”

The man smiles.

“No offence, but I think it would take more of you to do what she does. She’s a whirlwind.”

He pauses.

“Don’t tell her I said that.”

Clint nods.

“We can do whatever, we just have to be gone by 7pm, we have a Christmas dinner.”

The man nods.

“I’m Nathan.”

“Maybe you can start by feeding some of the animals?”

Natasha nods.

“Lucky can hang out with some of the other dogs, if he’s friendly?”

Lucky wags his tail on cue and happily goes with the man, leaving Clint and Natasha alone.

“How do you ever get in these situations? I was painting my nails, and now? I’m spooning out cat food.”

Clint looks at her apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, “I really don’t know how.”

Natasha sighs.

“At least we get to hang with animals?”

He shrugs, “there’s worse ways to spend time.”

The evening goes quick, Nathan showing them the different animals, even Laura returning to show them her new moon boot and Clint apologising again for her sprained ankle.

She waves him off, directing him to clean the dogs pen.

7pm comes fast, and there’s only one animal left.

Clint apologises for having to leave and promises to be back the next day.

Natasha pinches him lightly, but he can tell that she’s had fun. Broken nails and all.

“What about that cat?” she asks, pointing to a cage that Nathan had told her not to worry about.

Laura and Nathan look at each other.

“That’s Liho, don’t worry we will feed her. She just doesn’t like anyone.”

“That’s you as a cat,” Clint mumbles to Natasha.

“What?” asks Laura.

Natasha is a waves her off, stepping closer, the name drawing her in.

A black ball of fluff steps forward too, curious at the red headed human.

“That’s strange,” Nathan remarks.

“She’s never done that before.”

“Can I feed her?” Natasha asks.

Laura shrugs.

“Of course.”

A small bowl of food is presented and the door is opened.

Slowly the tiny cat emerges, looks at Natasha and mews softly.

“You’re not a liho, are you? Who did this to you? Huh?”

She takes a chance and picks her up, placing her closer to the bowl of food.

“She doesn’t let anyone do that,” Laura smiles, “maybe she’s yours.”

Natasha shakes her head and backs away.

“No, no. One dog is enough.”

But as the tiny cat leaves the food to go back to Natasha, she can’t help but imagine them all in the apartment together.

“We have to go,” she comments to Clint.

“Thank you,” she nods to Laura and Nathan.

“For letting us help, and I’m sorry again about Lucky.”

Clint echos the sentiment and they walk out of the shelter, contemplative.

“We’re going back tomorrow,” Clint nods.

Natasha is quiet, thinking of the black ball of fluff.

“Yeah,” she says to herself, “tomorrow.”

.

1/ Clint/Nat/Laura + traditions

2/ Clintasha + temporary blindness

3/ Clint/Nat/Maria + traditions

4/ Natasha and Yelena watch the stars

5/ Clintasha - stab wounds + wrapping presents

6/ Clint/Nat + Maria - gift buying (early shield days)

7/ Clint/Nat - taking lucky for a walk when it starts to snow

8/ Clintasha - Christmas Lights

9/ Nat and Tony - Natasha makes Tony a present

10/ Nat/Clint + Tony - pineapple saga continues

[quietlyimplode]

Clintasha Advent (12)

Prompt: Clint/Nat - the "do your physio" alarm is going off, only they're watching a Christmas movie and the couch is just so comfortable

For/Prompter: @broken--bow

Warnings: nil

Word count: 208

A/N: I know we’ve reached the 12th advent but will post a couple more maybe. A short one for today <3 thank you for all the kind words of the fic - I’ll catch up to them I swear.

.

The constant beeping makes them both look at each other and groan.

“We need to get up,” Clint says redundantly.

Natasha moves and Liho looks up from her lap.

The physio had told them.

Nightly exercises.

Natasha for her right shoulder, Clint for his left leg.

The dislocation of her shoulder wouldn’t even have registered as an injury once she put it back in, but the niggling pain and subsequent MRI had shown a torn ligament.

Surgery or physio.

Clint on the other hand, had broken his ankle.

Together they’d ended up at the physio.

“What about after this movie?”

Clint groans.

“If we don’t get up now, we won’t do it.”

Natasha nods.

“But there’s only like 30 mins left?”

Liho stretches.

“Just til the end,” Natasha bribes.

“You know I’m right.”

Clint mumbles something, and she settles back against him; the Christmas movie continuing its trajectory of predictability.

It’s nice, having a movie they know will end in happiness for someone.

Clint yawns.

Taking a drink of water in hand and sipping it.

“We need to get up,” he tells her.

“I know.”

Yawning, she closes her eyes for just a moment, letting the inklings of sleep descend upon her.

Tomorrow.

They’ll do it tomorrow.

.

1/ Clint/Nat/Laura + traditions

2/ Clintasha + temporary blindness

3/ Clint/Nat/Maria + traditions

4/ Natasha and Yelena watch the stars

5/ Clintasha - stab wounds + wrapping presents

6/ Clint/Nat + Maria - gift buying (early shield days)

7/ Clint/Nat - taking lucky for a walk when it starts to snow

8/ Clintasha - Christmas Lights

9/ Nat and Tony - Natasha makes Tony a present

10/ Nat/Clint + Tony - pineapple saga continues

11/ Clint/Nat - Lucky bowls over a stranger and somehow they end up volunteering

[quietlyimplode]

Mine: (also tagged under #my fic) do NOT repost my work anywhere (don’t be that person, a reblog is better and far more kind)

Whumptober 2023 Masterlist

Whumptober 2022 Masterlist

Whumptober 2021 Masterlist

Clintasha Advent 2021 Masterlist

-

Marching On - Avengers (2012)

different names for the same thing (part 1)

different names for the same thing (part 2)

——

Completed Series (How Natasha came to Shield)

Travel Through The Shadows With Me :

https://youtu.be/0pgyrD236wM (video for the series by a very talented friend)

Part 1: Summon Your Courage (Natasha & Clint)

Part 2: Invite your demons to tea (Natasha - with a side of Clint)

Part 3: Kiss the Dread

Xx

.

Black Widow Fest 2022

Black Widow Fest 2023

2.47 // nightshift

Excavate - Moments in Time - All the drabbles and one shots that have no place anywhere else

Black Widow Fest 2021 Fics

Clintasha Advent 2020

Short Ask Game (drabble fic)

Contained

Hard Luck - Natasha x Reader (to be placed on Ao3)

Gone

Bad Things Bingo (1) (2)

--

Clint/Nat

Leave everything but your bones behind (team fic/Clint/Nat implied)

The Judas Tree (Natasha & Clint/ Maria & Nat)

The Way Home (Clint/Nat)

Impenetrable (Nat/Clint)

Don’t let me fall (Clint/Nat)

Watch the sky (Clint/Nat)

Ok I believe you but my tommy gun don’t (Clint/Nat)

The Progressive and Cultural Learnings of Natasha Romanov - Ao3 (Clint/Nat)

Ten Thousand Hours (Clint/Nat)

Light Shadows (Clint/Nat)

Next Step (Clint/Nat 100 word drabble)

Rescue Me - Series Complete - 23/23 (Whumptober2020)

--

Natasha & Yelena

For here what is, what is will be (Nat & Yelena)

Night Drive (Yelena & Natasha)

Forged (Natasha)

Teach me how to be at peace again (Natasha. Yelena)

--

Tony & Natasha

Survival Guide (Tony & Natasha (Pepper/Tony and Clint/Nat))

Cosmic Love (Clint/Nat/ Tony & Nat)

The Way Through (Nat & Sam/ Maria & Nat)

Silver Linings (Nat & Steve & Tony/ Clint/Nat)

A Universal Truth (Nat & Tony/ Clint/Nat)

A mark, a mission, a brand, a scar (nat&tony, Nat& Steve and Clint/Nat// avengers as a team??)

--

Clint/Nat/Laura

Movie Night (Clint/Nat/Laura)

First Meetings (Natasha/Laura + Clint)

Promptathon Fic (Clint/Nat/Laura)

Five Christmases (Clint/Nat/Laura/Yelena)

--

Clint/Nat/Bucky / Bucky/Nat

Outrun the Night (Clint/Nat/Bucky)

Après Moi (Bucky/Nat)

--

Natasha & Steve

Flicker Beats

--

Wanda & Nat

Grief is a thing with fangs

x x x x

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist of Fic Recs - Version 2.0  - Page 1 / Page 2 / Page 3 / Page 4 / Page 5

Masterlist of @whumptober2020

Drabbles 1/ 2/ 3/ 4/ 5/ 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11