#Clint x reader fic

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (6 - Dearly Lost)

Chapter Summary: You're no longer questioning your reality—that is until the twins does something you didn't think they were capable of. Monica, Darcy and Jimmy learn a fundamental truth about you from no other than Clint Barton. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Chapter Tags/Warnings: None

A/N: Let me know if the reveal at the end was pretty obvious :P // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Things seem normal again. At least for a while.

Wanda watches you from the doorway, noticing how absorbed you are in a book, chuckling quietly at something on the page. You've always been a bibliophile, and she's never met anyone who reads as much as you do. Back when you went on missions together, you'd have a book in hand on the jet, finding time to read even on the way back to the compound. You'd even squeeze in a visit to a local bookstore whenever you were stationed somewhere new. In this reality, though you work hard to provide for the family, you still manage to read a page or two before calling it a night. She was more than relieved to find out that you were still wholly yourself in here. 

Lately, Wanda’s found herself doing this more—watching you, making sure you're still there, still undoubtedly hers. She knows she’s keeping tabs on you more than she even does on her six-year-old twins, and deep down, she understands it's not healthy.

There hasn't been a major incident since your last big argument, the day she literally threw Geraldine out of town. But that's only because Wanda has been managing things before they can escalate. She’s been tweaking little things with her powers, smoothing over potential upsets, steering your mood when it seemed to dip. It never gets easier for her, using her magic on you. It feels as if she’s betraying you each time, but Wanda feels trapped into making these choices, believing it’s the only way to protect you and the boys and the happiness she’s found here in Westview.

“You’re spying again.” 

Wanda blinks to find you looking up from your book, the corners of your mouth tilting upwards in a teasing smile.

“Can't help it,�� she replies. “You look so beautiful.”

You close the book slightly, keeping a finger between the pages. “Have you seen yourself in the mirror?” you say, meeting her eyes. “Care to join me?” You pat the empty spot beside you on the couch. 

Wanda crosses the room to sit next to you. “What are you reading this time?” she asks.

You hold up the book to show her the cover. “Just revisiting an old favorite.”

Wanda reads the title: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. She can't help but wonder why you decided to pick up that book now, of all times. Wanda feigns innocence about what it could mean. 

“Mad scientist and monsters?” 

“Yeah”, you say. “Though the monster isn't really the villain if you think about it.”

She raises an eyebrow, taking a seat beside you. “No?”

“No,” you continue. “He's just misunderstood, a creation trying to find his place in the world. It's the creator who's irresponsible.”

Wanda swallows, the irony not lost on her. “I see.”

Noticing the distant look in her eyes, you fold the corner of the page and set the book aside.

“Is everything okay?”

She forces a small smile and nods.

“Anything you want to talk about?” you offer, your hand brushing hers.

Wanda intertwines her fingers with yours, then shakes her head. “It's nothing, really. Just... thinking about how good things are.”

You squeeze her hand lightly. “I think about that too. Every day.”

Wanda smiles at you, though she can’t help but wonder how much of your response is truly yours, and how much is shaped by the spell she’s woven around you.

After a moment, you say, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Her grip tightens ever so slightly. She can feel her palm against yours becoming clammy. “I know,” she whispers.

“Good,” you reply, leaning in to rest your head against hers. “Because whatever it is, we'll face it together, right?”

Wanda closes her eyes, soaking in your words. “Thank you,” she whispers.

You chuckle softly at that, shaking your head slightly. It seems almost silly that Wanda feels the need to thank you for something so fundamental. Aren't you supposed to be there for each other no matter what? After all, that's what being married is about. Being there for her—it’s not something she should ever have to thank you for; it's just a given.

You reopen the book with your free hand. “How about I read to you for a bit?”

She nestles closer, sinking into your embrace. “I'd love that.”

You begin to read out loud, but even as she listens, a part of her remains restless. She wishes she could share everything with you—the doubts, the fears, the lengths she's gone to preserve these moments with you.

–

“If there's one thing I don't like about this show—” Darcy starts, her eyes fixed on the television displaying the latest episode of Wanda's broadcast. In Command Central, more than a dozen monitors are lit up around the clock to ensure they don’t miss a moment. Darcy's snagged this vintage TV for their own use, preferring to monitor and analyze the situation away from the others. Ever since Hayward declared Wanda the enemy, they've all agreed they couldn't trust him.

Monica and Jimmy both give her pointed looks. It's hard to appreciate the nuances of a TV show when you know an entire town is being held hostage for it.

“Okay, besides the whole ‘entire town under mind control by a former Avenger’ situation,” Darcy adds, rolling her eyes. “It's the lack of continuity. One minute, Y/N is giving Wanda the cold shoulder, they're arguing over something trivial, and the next, they're all lovey-dovey like nothing ever happened. We didn't even get to see how that last argument over the scorched lasagna got resolved!”

Monica sucks in her teeth. “I doubt that scene really happened.”

Darcy nods. “I can't even wrap my head around how she's pulling this off. Her powers are—”

“Autonomous,” Jimmy chimes in. “Or it could mean Wanda's losing control over the narrative?”

Monica shakes her head. “No. That’s definitely a result of her controlling the narrative.” 

“What’s Hayward’s plan anyway?”

Monica’s head drops. “H-He isn’t including me in the closed door meeting.”

“Oh,” Darcy mumbles. That could only mean that whatever Hayward’s planning, he knows Monica would challenge it at all cost. And if Monica’s against it, well, it can’t possibly be good or morally tactful.

Right then, Monica’s phone vibrates in her pocket. She checks the message and allows a slight smile. “I might have some good news,” she says.

Darcy swivels her chair to face her. “Please tell me you found a way to fix this.”

Monica glances at the tent entrance. “Not exactly a fix, but maybe a step in the right direction.”

Before anyone can question her further, the tent flap opens, and a familiar figure strides in.

“Clint Barton?” Jimmy blurts out, eyebrows shooting up.

“Hey,” Clint says casually, giving a small wave. “Heard you all could use some help.”

Darcy's mouth hangs open. “Whoa… Hawkeye?”

Before the two can spiral into hero worship, Monica steps forward. “I reached out to Carol, but she's off-world.  She suggested contacting someone who knows Y/N well.”

“We go way back,” Clint explains. “I trained her for a while before Nat took her under her wing.”

An awkward silence settles over the cramped room as Jimmy and Darcy stare at Clint with wide-eyed astonishment. Clint glances around at the hodgepodge of equipment piled in corners and cables snaking across the floor. He clears his throat. “So... this is Command Central?” he asks, arching an eyebrow.

“More like the storage room,” Monica replies dryly, arms crossed over her chest.

It’s Darcy who snaps out of it first. “Okay, I just have to ask—do you ever miss? Like, is that a thing that happens?” she blurts out.

“Darcy,” Monica warns.

But Darcy barrels ahead, as if not hearing her. “And your arrows—do you make them yourself? What's your craziest trick shot?”

Clint chuckles softly. “I designed them, yes.”

Monica places a hand on Darcy's shoulder. “We really should—” 

Before she can finish, Jimmy pushes off his chair, nearly tripping over a stack of files as he moves closer. “In the Battle of New York, how did you keep track of so many targets at once?” he asks eagerly.

Monica sighs loudly. “You too?”

The former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent shrugs defensively. “What? I’m a fan.”

“Can we please stay focused?” Monica says, pinching the bridge of her nose in embarrassment.

Clint chuckles softly. “It's alright. I get it.” He looks around at them with a friendly smile. “But I heard you’ve got an urgent situation here?”

“Right, right. Sorry. It's just—you're kind of a big deal.”

Monica takes a deep breath. “As I was saying, Clint knows Y/N well. He might be able to help us understand why Wanda’s doing this, how important Y/N was to her, and give us a clue on how we could help her through her grief.”

Darcy tilts her head. “So, what's she like? I mean, off the record.”

Monica gives Darcy a pointed look. “Darcy.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Darcy concedes, raising her hands. “But this interview’s gotta start somewhere, right?”

Clint looks between them. “Hold on a second,” he says. “What exactly is Wanda doing?”

Monica opens her mouth but finds herself hesitating, unsure how to relay the gravity of the situation. How do you tell someone that their friend has commandeered an entire town? There's no easy way to frame it—Wanda's actions are both alarming and, not to mention, illegal.

Darcy blows out a breath. “Oh boy, where to start?”

“Mr. Barton—” Jimmy starts.

“Just call me Clint.”

“Mr. Clint,” Jimmy continues. “Wanda has... taken over Westview.”

Clint raises an eyebrow. “Taken over? What do you mean?”

Monica finally finds her voice. “Wanda created an alternate reality that’s protected by some hexagonal energy barrier—”

“Hex!” Darcy exclaims excitedly, proud to have coined the nickname that she’s heard other field agents using. “That's what we've been calling it.”

Monica shoots her a glare but keeps going. “—and people are trapped.”

“Trapped?”

Darcy nods vigorously. “Yep, complete with its own TV broadcast. Different eras, laugh tracks, the whole sitcom package.”

Clint runs a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “Wanda did what now?”

Monica pulls two chairs over to the central table, motioning for herself and Clint to sit. “We can brief you more on that later. It's hard to explain when there's no broadcast at the moment,” she says, gesturing toward the small vintage TV that's been showing static for hours. “Right now, we're on a tight schedule to convince Hayward to take an approach that minimizes casualties as much as possible. So, what can you tell us about Y/N? Wait—Jimmy, can you...?”

“Got it,” Jimmy replies, pressing the record button on the device. “All set.”

“Coffee?” Darcy offers, holding up a fresh pot.

“Please, and thank you,” Clint replies gratefully. He takes a seat, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. Turning to Monica, he asks, “So, how do you want to begin?”

“We have her basic bio—date of birth, physical stats, the usual. We know she worked with S.H.I.E.L.D. and later joined the Avengers, but beyond that, there's not much. Officially, she died two years ago in Tokyo. That's where our trail ends,” Monica says.

Clint nods slowly. “That lines up with what I know.”

Monica continues, “What we need to understand is her relationship with Wanda. Who was she to Wanda? How deep did their connection go?”

Clint tries his best to appear nonchalant though he’s out of practice. Your relationship with Wanda was kept under wraps; only the Avengers knew the full story. How did these people find out about you and Wanda being involved if all they have is what's in Stark's database?

Monica senses Clint’s having second thoughts on how to answer. “I understand this is sensitive,” she says, giving him a moment. “We’ll answer any questions you have, but we really need your help.”

Clint takes a sip of his coffee before responding thoughtfully, “I don't usually delve into others' private lives, especially when they're not here to speak for themselves. But if it can help us understand what's going on with Wanda…” He stops for a second, a faint smile touching his lips. “Funny thing is, they couldn't stand each other at first.”

–

“Smells good in here,” Wanda says as she pads into the kitchen wearing her sleep gown. It's Saturday—the one day you insist she sleeps in while you handle the morning routine with the twins, repaying her for the five days a week she does the same for you.

You turn from the stove, a spatula in hand, and smile. “Morning. Pancakes are almost ready.”

She moves closer, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind and resting her cheek against your shoulder blade. “You're spoiling me,” she murmurs.

“Just returning the favor,” you reply, flipping a golden pancake onto the growing stack. “Besides, the boys love helping out.”

No sooner do you say that than Tommy and Billy dash into the kitchen, giggling and shoving each other playfully. “Mom! You're up!” Billy exclaims, eyes bright.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Wanda greets, reaching out to smooth his tousled hair. “Did you two help with breakfast?”

“Of course!” Tommy grins. “I stirred the batter.”

“And I added the chocolate chips,” Billy adds proudly.

You chuckle. “They've been a big help.”

Wanda looks between the three of you, her eyes getting a little misty. “I can see that. Well, let me set the table.”

Before she can reach the cabinet, you quickly intercept her movements with a gentle hand on her arm. “Ah-ah, not today,” you say with a grin. “Why don't you take your usual spot and sit pretty?”

Wanda looks amused. “Are you sure?”

You merely lean in and kiss her cheek, letting your lips linger for a second longer than necessary before whispering, “I’m absolutely sure I just want you there sitting pretty for me.” Wanda giggles, blushing.

After breakfast, Tommy asks, “Can we go play outside?” already half out of his seat.

“Finish your juice first,” you say. 

They obediently chug their juice, cheeks puffing out adorably as they hurriedly swallow. You watch, momentarily concerned, but the sight is too endearing to fuss over.

“Done!” Billy declares.

Wanda laughs. “Alright, but stay in the yard.”

You begin clearing the dishes, and Wanda joins you at the sink. “They’re a handful,” she remarks, shaking her head fondly.

“I love it,” you reply, smiling as you scrub the same plate absentmindedly. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind having two more just like them.”

Wanda nudges your hip with hers. Hearing you want to have more kids with her both terrifies and excites her. “Is that so?” she teases.

“Yeah,” you say, leaning in to rub your nose affectionately against hers. “I’ll carry the girls this time.”

“Girls?” she repeats with a soft smile, her face lighting up at the thought.

As you're both finishing up, a commotion comes from the backyard. The boys' excited voices carry into the kitchen. “Moms! Come see!”

You and Wanda look at each other in question before heading outside. The twins stand on the patio, each holding one end of a wriggling, scruffy dog.

“Look what we found!” Tommy shrieks.

The dog wags its tail furiously, tongue lolling out.

“Where did he come from?” Wanda asks.

“He was by the bushes,” Billy explains. “He doesn't have a collar or anything. Can we keep him?”

Wanda gently takes the dog from them, cradling it like a newborn. “Now boys, taking care of a living thing is a big responsibility,” she starts, “Dogs need food, exercise, training,” she brings her face closer to the little dog and begins nuzzling it. “Belly rubs and cuddles and kisses between his little ears.”

You watch your wife, noting that you’ve clearly lost her to the dog. 

“We know,” Billy insists. “We'll feed him and walk him and everything!” Wanda hands the dog back to the twins as she turns to you, seeking your input.

“What do you think?” she asks, clearly hoping you’ll say yes. It’s always a challenge to say no when she looks at you like that—so childlike herself—but you’re not convinced the kids are quite ready for the responsibility—yet.

You sigh lightly. “I don't know, guys. A dog is a lot of work. And you're still pretty young.”

Tommy pouts. “But we'll be responsible, we promise!”

Billy nods earnestly. “Please?”

Wanda smiles at you, then turns back to the boys. “Maybe when you're a little older.”

“How old?” Tommy asks, tilting his head.

Wanda hesitates, glancing at you. You clear your throat and suggest, “Ten.”

“Yeah, when you're ten,” Wanda agrees.

The brothers exchange a mischievous glance. Wanda immediately realizes what's about to happen and begins muttering urgently, “No, no, no…” But she can't stop it. Right before your eyes, your six-year-old boys start to grow taller, their faces maturing as they rapidly age themselves to meet the age you've required for them to keep the dog.

Wanda glances back at you, hands on her hips. “Well, I guess that settles it, huh?”

–

Clint chews on what he's seeing for a long, hard minute. Watching you in proper pajamas—something he knows you'd never wear in your entire life—cooking pancakes and playing house with Wanda and two kids who look nothing like either of you, it's... it's a lot to take in, even after everything he's seen in this lifetime. 

After sharing what he knew—what he could—about your relationship with Wanda, Clint asked Monica for more details on what exactly Wanda had allegedly done to the town. Monica's expression grew somber as she responded, suggesting that it was better to show him rather than tell. Skeptical, Clint doubted it could be as extreme as they were making it out to be, but he agreed to see for himself what was really going on.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“That's... that's definitely Y/N,” he mutters, eyes still glued to the screen. “Her face, her voice... even that annoyingly cheesy way she gets around Wanda.”

Monica glances at him. “So it's really her?”

“Yeah. Unless someone found her identical twin, that's her.”

Darcy folds her arms, skeptical. “But we thought Y/N died after the Snap. She didn't come back when everyone else did.”

Clint looks down at his lap, deep in thought. When he finally raises his eyes, there’s a hint of embarrassment on his face. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “That's…what most people were led to believe,” he says.

Three pairs of eyes are suddenly on him, waiting impatiently.

“Meaning?” Jimmy prods him for more.

Clint sighs, avoiding their eyes. He knows there's no turning back now.

“Y/N isn’t dead,” Clint finally discloses, earning a collective gasp that he’s already been expecting. “She went off the grid. Only Nat and I knew about this.”

[hard-core-super-star]

make you mine this season [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x barton!reader

summary: a badly timed snowstorm leaves you unable to make it to the barton farm for christmas. thankfully, a certain archer shows up to keep you company.

warnings: none, i think? just really cheesy, holiday rom-com type of fluff [i say this as if i've watched any holiday rom-com besides happiest season and the holiday 😶]; kate's a dork [wow, what a shock]; idiots in love; past mentions of bishova; bad jokes?; snowstorm; cheesy gifts bc kate can't talk about her feelings

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: HI, EVERYONE, I'M ALIVE! and it wouldn't be a rubix fic if it WASN'T posted a little late 😅 i hope you all had a fantastic holiday season and that you'll accept this very cheesy Christmas fic <3 [and maybe that last line is very self-indulgent but that's none of your business, if you know you know]

* * * * * * *

You’re no stranger to loneliness but things were bordering on ridiculous. Not only have you spent the past two years ridiculously in love with a certain purple-loving archer, you’re also on the verge of spending Christmas by yourself thanks to the worst-timed snowstorm of all time.

And maybe the first part of your unfortunate situation is your fault but that doesn’t stop the waves of disappointment from crashing into you.

This year was supposed to be different. 

That’s what you had told yourself in an effort to convince yourself to tell the young archer about your feelings for her. It was a strategy that almost worked…until a certain blonde decided to accept Kate’s offer for drinks…which turned into a date…which turned into a second date…which turned into the longest four months of your life.

You could never be one to be mad at someone else’s happiness but that didn’t stop you from feeling absolutely defeated every time you saw them together. There was no one to blame except you for the brunette’s lack of knowledge about your feelings and that only made everything worse.

It was impossible to ignore the ache in your chest when your eyes met Kate’s or the heavy jealousy that clouded most of your interactions with her. Maybe if you had been less into your head about the whole thing, you would have realized the way the archer’s smile never seemed to reach her eyes. 

Eyes that followed you every time you walked away.

You never noticed the traces of darkness that clung to her usually radiant persona but you were the first person at her side when the break up happened. She offered little to no details besides an awkward joke about the relationship ending almost exactly where it started right at the Rockefeller tree.

It was messed up in a way that made Kate want to make as many jokes about it as possible which resulted in you laughing at things that definitely weren’t funny and were just sad. Not as sad as spending the holidays completely alone and hopelessly in love with your best friend, though.

You were sure the archer was already well on her way to your dad’s farm which leaves you completely unprepared when the door to your apartment swings open to reveal her. She almost drops the key in her hand the second she realizes you’re home.

“What’re you doing here?” You question, doing your best to pretend you don’t see the gift bags she tries to hide behind her back.

You can practically see the wheels turning in her head before she’s finally able to respond. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at Clint’s?”

It’s hard not to laugh at the incredulous look on her face. No matter how many times you see it, it’s still as endearing as the first time. Back when she was just your dad’s protege and you hadn’t spent so many of your days learning the ins and outs of her complicated personality.

“Did the incoming snowstorm happen to slip your mind?”

“No, I just thought you’d want to go anyway,” she replies with a small shrug. 

“I’d rather not crash, Lila will never let me hear the end of it.”

Your words make her tilt her head to the side, the slightest hint of a pout on her face. “So…what, you’re just going to spend Christmas alone?”

“Yup. Kate, I’m not a kid anymore, nothing will happen if I spend one day by myself.”

“But it’s Christmas!” She exclaims, looking borderline offended that you’re so comfortable spending the holiday alone. 

“Is that why you’re breaking into my apartment?” You ask in a foolish attempt to stop yourself from asking her to spend the day with you. 

Just because she thought about you long enough to come drop off her, no doubt ridiculously expensive, gifts for you does not mean she wants to spend the holiday with you when she could easily spend it with anyone else.

The pink hue that overtakes her cheeks is a better gift than anything that could be inside the bags in her hand. “Well, uh…maybe…”  

She finally gathers enough courage to get rid of the distance between you with a bright, albeit nervous, smile on her face. You half-expect her to launch into some long ramble about why she just couldn’t stop herself from buying an insane amount of gifts for you this year but she doesn’t. 

For once in her life, Kate Bishop makes things easy for herself.

“I didn’t think I was going to make it to the farm on time so I was just going to drop these off for you…” She holds out the bag for you and you do your best to calm the rapid beating of your heart as you take it.

“Can I open it right now or will you get embarrassed?” 

“Both,” she replies through a chuckle. “I would leave but I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“Right, because I’m the one who gets lonely.”

“Shut up.”

It’s both a blessing and a curse to have broken through the archer’s defenses and right now, her cute reactions are beginning to feel like a curse. Although, that might just be your unrequited feelings talking.

A slightly awkward silence settles over both of you while you rifle through the overwhelming amount of purple tissue paper until you find your gift. You’re expecting another expensive necklace, maybe a bracelet this time, but what you’re met with is the most thoughtful gift you’ve ever received…and probably the most thoughtful gift Kate has ever given.

What you end up pulling out of the bag is a leather journal with a beautiful engraving of yours and Kate’s initials. “Kate…is this-”

“Yeah, I, um…I couldn’t find a photo album that I liked so I sort of…made my own.”

You can’t stop yourself from flipping through the first couple of pages, caught somewhere between the euphoria of being given something so beautiful and the disappointment that comes with knowing it all only serves to fuel your love for the archer. 

Love you can’t express the way you want to.

Love that’s hidden between the pages of the journal you hold in your hands. 

You don’t notice and Kate isn’t really in a hurry to watch you read the series of rambles that make up her overdue confession so she lets the moment fade like she always has. It’s not like you can blame her for wanting to move on to something else, her lack of focus isn’t necessarily a secret, and you let yourself get carried away by her jokes and her stubborn need to make mac and cheese for you.

The archer manages to cook without setting your kitchen on fire and the two of you settle on your couch to watch the first cheesy Christmas movie you find. In all honesty…the movie is awful but the corny jokes make Kate laugh so you can’t find it in yourself to be too grumpy about the shitty writing.

Until the scene in front of you reminds you of the archer and her ex. You’re unable to hold back the jealousy-tinted snarkiness said reminder brings out of you. “I think Yelena watched this movie and then decided to be a dick just like the main character.”

Kate instantly turns toward you, staring at you with wide eyes that barely hide her amusement. “What?”

“What?” You feign confusion to avoid having to repeat yourself.

“You know what,” she replies with an eyeroll. “If I’m the one who got broken up with, why are you the one that’s still upset?”

“Because- wait, why are you not upset?”

Your uno-reverse of a response leaves Kate speechless for a few seconds and you prepare yourself for the series of jokes that will no doubt leave her mouth next. 

But Kate’s never been predictable.

“Because…she didn’t break my heart. She didn’t even own it in the first place.”

Her words spark the low flames of hope hidden in the depths of your heart. It feels impossible and if you were a believer, you might even say Santa’s on your side, helping to give you the one thing you’ve wished for more nights than you can count.

And yet you hesitate.

“What are you trying to say?” You ask, your voice so soft it borders on cautious.

“That I’m an idiot,” she replies with that same bright smile that made you fall for her so long ago. “And…I’d really like to kiss you.”

The world seems to slow down to a complete stop at that moment. 

You almost don’t even know what to do with yourself. Thankfully, you manage to kick yourself into action before the moment passes.

Kate’s awkwardness seems to disappear into thin air as she leans in toward you, meeting you halfway for the softest, sweetest, kiss you’ve ever had. And maybe nothing about it is perfect but it’s you and her and that’s all that matters for now.

[sycamorelibrary754]

Merry Christmas

Summary: It’s the most wonderful time of the year. You and Natasha are off to the annual Stark Christmas Party. Little does the team know that a special surprise awaits them.

Genre: Fluff

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

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is part 2 to Happy Thanksgiving! I recommend reading it first, but it can be read as a stand-alone story as well. I hope you enjoy!

“Be down in a minute, malyshka!” Natasha called from the bedroom. 

You were standing in the cozy kitchen, savoring spoonfuls of creamy peanut butter straight from the jar, drizzled with rich chocolate sauce. You jokingly referred to it as your "homemade Reese's." It was your first pregnancy craving, prompting Nat to rush to the corner grocery store at 2 am to procure the duo of ingredients.

"No worries!" You were all set for Tony's yearly Christmas gathering at the compound. Clad in a stunning green Sequin-Lace Halter Twist-Neck Jumpsuit, your tiny baby bump added an extra glow to the outfit.

Natasha's arrival was announced by the confident click of her high heels. A few moments later, she appeared in a stunning, sleek red midi dress with a scoop-back design, perfectly accentuating her figure.

"Wow, Nat, you look absolutely stunning in red. It's definitely your color," you complimented.

Her smirk grew as she put on her earrings, 'So, you're choosing it over the black?' she teased.

"I never said that, did I?" with a cheeky wink.

"Is the little one loving the homemade Reese’s?" she said, grabbing her clutch.

Absolutely!" I exclaimed, setting aside the tempting chocolate and peanut butter. "How about we whip up some delicious fudge tomorrow?

"Is it because the baby has such a sweet tooth?" Nat playfully teased.

"Absolutely," you giggled coyly.

"Whatever the baby wants, I guess," she said as she enveloped you in a warm embrace, then leaned over to plant a tender kiss on your belly.

"Are you ready to drop the baby bomb tonight?" Patting Nat's head affectionately.

“I'm feeling a bit nervous," she confessed, standing upright. "I remember how everyone reacted when they learned about Clint's family. I can't help but wonder how they'll take this news.

“They will embrace their roles as the wonderful aunts and uncles they were meant to be,” you said, grabbing your wife's hand. “Plus, announcing it with the Christmas crackers is a cute idea.”

"I hope so," she whispered before planting a gentle kiss on your lips. 

Can you believe Yelena still hasn't spilled the beans?” you asked.

"Oh, that's because I warned her that if she told anyone, I would make her run with me every morning at 5 am until the baby is born," Natasha explained.

“Well played,” you replied, high-fiving your wife. 

Thank you," she smiled. "Now, come on, let's go and get into the holiday spirit.

*^~^*

As you drove to the compound, the snowflakes delicately blanketed the landscape, creating a picturesque scene of holiday cheer. Each house you passed was adorned with shimmering Christmas lights, casting a warm, enchanting glow upon the neighborhood. You reached out to hold Natasha's hand, your fingers naturally intertwining as she pressed a tender kiss to the back of your hand, savoring the moment.

Upon your arrival at the compound, a rush of inviting warmth enveloped us as you both stepped into the lobby. Natasha brushed the delicate snowflakes from your hair and coat, her caring touch bringing a sense of comfort. Together, you made your way onto the elevator, where the voice of FRIDAY greeted us, creating a tranquil atmosphere as we continued our journey.

“Ladies, Merry Christmas, and welcome to the annual Stark Christmas party!”

“Merry Christmas, FRIDAY. How’s the party so far?” You asked as the elevator hum carried you up to the living quarters.

“The festivities are in full swing. Mr. Stark is treating the guests to a medley of lively and heartwarming Christmas carols,” FRIDAY explained.

"Of course he is," you chuckled.

“He only plays that baby grand after a few drinks," Nat added. "After our month-long covert op in Romania, we flew back, and he decided to mark the occasion with a tipsy performance of ABBA’s Dancing Queen.”

"Ah, I can't believe I missed it!" you groaned, pretending to be disappointed.

As the elevator doors slid open, the vibrant red and green decorations instantly caught your eye, along with the magnificent 12-foot-tall Noble Fir Christmas tree that stood proudly in the heart of the common area. It was evident that Pepper had poured her heart into adorning the tree, carefully draping it in an array of colored lights and delicate silver and gold ornaments. The festive ambiance filled the air, evoking a sense of warmth and holiday cheer.

"Look who's here - the Romanoff's have arrived!" Clint cheered as his kids eagerly ran over to greet you and Natahsa.

As Nate leaped into your wife's embrace, you welcomed Lila and Cooper with warm hugs. Each time you saw the Barton kids, it became apparent that they had grown a little more. Banner and Cho made carrying a child that would be a combination of both your and Natasha's genes possible. Observing the striking resemblance of Clint and Laura's children to their parents, you eagerly anticipated discovering which traits your little plum would inherit from each of you.

Natasha leaned in and planted a kiss on Nathaniel's cheek. "How's my little namesake?" she grinned. "Have you been practicing those punch and kick combinations I taught you?

"Practicing the what?" Laura asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing,” Natasha flashed a sly smile as Nate burst into laughter.

"You both look amazing! The green and red combination is really working for you," Clint said.

Thanks! I have to say that your Christmas sweater is quite lovely. I really dig Rudolph's glowing nose." You don't see that very often!” You teased.

“Hey, the Barton’s are the cream of the crop when it comes to ugly Christmas sweaters.”

“Clearly,” Nat stated.

"I’ll take your coats," Cooper graciously offered.

"Wow, thank you. What a gentleman," you said as you handed him yours and Natasha’s pea coats.

Looking around, you spotted Wanda adding the final decorations to trays of delicious Christmas cookies. You put a hand on Nat’s shoulder and motioned toward the kitchen. She gave you a quick nod as you meandered over to the counter. 

"Wanda, Wanda, Wanda... What do we have here?" you inquired with a sly grin.

Y/N! It's so good to see you," she exclaimed, her arms wrapping around me in one of her signature warm and comforting hugs that I always loved. "This is my parents' famous Christmas cookie recipe," she proudly announced, holding up a worn and stained piece of paper. "I managed to convince Tony and Pepper to let me take charge of the desserts this year. So, we've got batches of freshly baked cookies, the decadent Viennese torte chilling in the fridge, and the pumpkin pie just coming out to cool on the counter.

Wow, you've been keeping busy," you said with a smile. "Is there anything I can do to lend a hand?

"Sure, you can take a cookie and go mingle. I'll be finished in a few minutes," she said, handing you a delightful cookie shaped like Santa. As you bit into it, you were amazed. It was the most delicious cookie you had ever tasted.

"Wow, Wanda! This is fantastic!" you exclaimed excitedly.

"That's exactly why I'll always champion homemade goodies over store-bought ones. Now, come on, go join the fun," she said, playfully shooing you away.

You turned around to see your wife, elegantly positioned by the fireplace, conversing with Steve with a champagne glass. As you began crossing the room, Kate and Lucky, adorned in festive attire, intercepted your path.

"Y/N! It's been ages! How have you been?" Kate exclaimed, her face lighting up with excitement.

"Hey, Kate! It's great to see you and Lucky enjoying the party," while giving the Golden Retriever some affectionate pets.

"Kate joyfully exclaimed, "Yes, say hello to Santa Paws and Mrs. Claus!" Sadly, we can't seem to find Yelena. She's our dedicated elf." Kate glanced around the room with concern.

Wait, Yelena is actually dressed as an elf?!" Your eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, that's fantastic.”

“Yeah, if you see her, will you send her our way? We’re supposed to take the photo for our holiday card tonight,” Kate explained.

"Nothing would make me happier," you said with a smirk and a hand resting on Kate's shoulder.

You bid farewell to the young archer and her loyal pup before rejoining your wife.

"Hey detka," Nat greeted, gently wrapping her arm around your waist.

"Y/N, I was just telling your wife that she needs to find her holiday spirit and come Christmas caroling with us next week," Steve stated.

"Natasha singing? I'm not convinced that would do wonders for the community's morale," you quipped.

Nat giggled at the remark, "Says the woman who performs one-woman tributes to Harry Styles in the shower?"

“Hey" you interrupted, "I'll have you know that my performance of Sign of the Times has been receiving high praise.

A moment later, Tony and Pepper joined your little group, with Morgan walking alongside them.

"Hey there, Romanoffs! You've got to taste this amazing Hot Buttered Rum," Tony exclaimed.

I adore Hot Buttered Rum, but I'm in the mood for some sparkling cider tonight," you explained. "I bet Nat would enjoy some, though. Don't you think, sweetheart?”

"Sure," she said, grabbing the glass from Tony's hand. Steve looked back at you curiously.

As you looked down at Morgan, who was sitting on the cozy ottoman next to the crackling fireplace, you couldn't help but feel a deep connection. Ever since you discovered that you were expecting a baby, your heart has been inexplicably drawn to children in a way you had never experienced before.

"Hey there, cutie!" you exclaimed to the young Stark. "You're looking lovely tonight," as you crouched down to her eye level.

"Thank you, Aunt Y/N," she said with a big grin.

“Are you getting excited for Christmas?" you inquired. "You're at the top of Santa's nice list this year!

“Really?!” Morgan squealed.

"Definitely! I have a feeling the man in red will bring you some amazing surprises this year," you winked.

Hey, did you hear that, Daddy? Aunt Y/N just told me that I'm at the very top of the nice list!

“I sure did, squirt. I didn’t realize Aunt Y/N was so tight with St. Nick,” Tony said, eyeing you coyly.

"Of course, we're on a first-name basis. I'm amazed you're not," you said with a smirk, looking at the billionaire. You had a strong bond with Tony, treating him like a brother, but you couldn't resist teasing him.

Trust me, Mrs. Romanoff," Tony said with a smirk. "I'm way closer to Santa than you are.

“Do you have a direct line to the North Pole?” You countered.

"Are you getting milk and cookies flown in from Holland? You know those are his absolute favorites," Tony remarked, giving you a knowing look.

"Alright, that's enough," your wife said as she touched your shoulders from behind. "You both know Santa. You both have giant egos. Merry Christmas," Nat mocked. "Come on, Tony, let's grab some hors d'oeuvres for our better halves. I'll be right back, detka," she said, leading the billionaire toward the kitchen.

You couldn’t help but admire Natasha as she walked away. Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled at you with all the love in the world. You just about melted right there in front of the fireplace. Snapping out of your love daze, you noticed Pepper grinning at you.

“What?” you asked.

"Oh, nothing. I just can’t help but notice how glowing you look tonight," Pepper said as Morgan pulled her away towards Clint’s kids, while Steve strolled away to join Bucky in conversation with Rhodes.

"Hey, psst... psst!" a voice suddenly whispered.

You suddenly spun around just in time to see a styrofoam snowball hurtling towards your face. With lightning-fast reflexes, you snatched it out of the air smoothly.

"Good catch," a Russian voice exclaimed.

"Yelena, where are you?" You glanced around, but couldn't see my sister-in-law anywhere.

"Over here!" she called out, peeking from behind the towering seven-foot snowman beside the pool table.

"Aww, you look absolutely adorable as an elf," you giggled.

Yelena's voice was barely audible as she uttered, "If you weren't pregnant with my niece or nephew, you would be hanging upside down from the rafters right now."

"Do you know that Kate and Lucky are looking for you?" you asked.

“Why do you think I’m hiding behind the enormous snowman? Kate Bishop forced me to dress in this saccharin American Christmas costume, and now she wants photographic evidence of it.” Yelena said.

"Because she loves you, silly," she said with a smile, arms crossed over her chest.

"Dinner time, detka. Let's go," Natasha called out and then abruptly halted, bursting into laughter at the sight of her sister.

“Tred carefully, sestra,” Yelena threatened. 

Nope, I'm loving this. Isn't this the new mission suit attire?" she said, playfully tapping the bell hanging from her elf hat. "Maybe we can convince Stark to level up this outfit with some Widow Bites action.

“Do you have a death wish?” Yelena sneered.

“Come on, you adorable elf, it’s time for dinner,” you say as you place an arm around your best friend’s shoulder.

*^~^*

As you sat next to your wife at the elegant Astoria Grand Giovani dining table, the soft touch of Natasha's hand sent a gentle warmth through you. You turned to her and caught her shy smile; her cheeks tinged with a rosy, festive blush.

Pepper rose from her seat beside Tony at the head of the lavishly decorated holiday table. With warmth in her voice and a genuine smile, she addressed the gathered guests. "Before we savor this delectable holiday spread, I want to express our deep gratitude for every one of you being here," she said, gently clasping Tony's hand. "Every person in this room understands the preciousness of life, and we cherish every moment together. We want you to know how much we love you, and we wish you all a Merry Christmas."

"Cheers!" Thor exclaimed a few seats away, raising his glass as clinking filled the table.

The festive Christmas feast brought an abundance of delightful dishes to savor. The centerpiece was a perfectly roasted turkey, surrounded by tempting trimmings. Freshly baked bread, creamy mashed potatoes, and garden-fresh vegetables, delicately roasted and complemented with balsamic vinegar, graced the table. Laughter filled the air as the group indulged in cheerful conversation and shared a medley of lighthearted, albeit incredibly corny, jokes.

As the evening progressed, pregnancy mood swings began to intensify. Amidst the gathering, a wave of emotion washed over you as you and your extended family relished the holiday season together.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Carol's eyes held a deep sense of concern as she gazed at you from across the table.

Oh, yeah," you say, dabbing at the corner of your eyes with a napkin. "I'm fine.

"The holidays always tug at her heartstrings," Natasha covered, resting her head on your shoulder.

After your delicious dinner, you assisted Wanda in setting up the dessert spread. Placing the Christmas cookies in the center, you carefully arranged the Viennese torte and the pumpkin pie on either side. As the evening progressed, you passed around coffee and dessert wine; all enjoying the company and the sweet treats.

The room was filled with the cozy warmth of full bellies and slightly sleepy eyes as the group relaxed in the living room. Soft, enchanting Christmas music filled the air, creating the perfect backdrop for the kids' lively discussions about their Christmas wishes and what they hoped Santa would bring them this year.

"Alright, Kate Bishop, let's hurry up with this photo. I can't wait to change into my pajamas," Yelena declared as she reluctantly rose from the couch.

You got it! Stay right there. Come here, Lucky," Kate called out as the dog happily bounded over. "Vision, could you snap the photo for us?

"Of course, Ms. Bishop," he said, confidently taking the Canon EOS R-50 from the archer's hands.

“It is customary to say cheese before a picture, but since it is Christmas time, perhaps you should say mistletoe?” Vision inquired.

"Just take the picture, you overgrown toaster," Yelena said dryly, a hint of impatience in her voice.

Kate's voice echoed through the room, 'Mistletoe!'

"Hey, we're getting one of these cards, right?" you eagerly looked at your wife.

“I had Kate put us down for two,” she smirked.

*^~^*

As darkness descended, you leaned back and rested your tired head on Nat's comforting lap, feeling the soothing sensation of her fingers gently running through your hair.

Natasha glanced at her watch, noting the late hour. "Are you ready to drop the baby bomb?"

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be. I'll grab the Christmas crackers," you declared, getting up from the sofa.

"Hey everyone, Y/N and I have a surprise for you," your wife nervously announced as you handed out the gold and silver novelties to the team.

"Christmas crackers? Seriously? I was expecting something a bit more extravagant… Oww!" Tony complained as Pepper playfully pinched his arm.

You smiled nervously, your heart racing as you reached for Natasha. The snap of the festive crackers echoed merrily across the room. Clint's eyes lit up as he was the first to reach inside and carefully remove the tiny gift from the cracker. The little round ceramic white ornament, delicately tied to a vibrant red ribbon, appeared in his hand, reflecting the warm glow of the holiday lights. Lila, Cooper, and Nate, their faces filled with excitement and curiosity, eagerly huddled around their dad to get a glimpse as Clint slowly turned the ornament to read the inscription, a moment of joy and togetherness shared by the entire family.

"Uncle Clint?" he read, looking up at Natasha in complete shock.

Sam couldn't believe it and shouted, "No way!"

As Wanda, Carol, and Kate gazed upon their unique ornaments, they couldn't help but shout a collective scream of joy. Each ornament proudly displayed its name, followed by the cherished title of "Aunt."

Thor exclaimed, 'This is joyous news!'

Pepper jumped to her feet and wrapped you in a bear hug, while Laura did the same with Natasha.

“How far along are you?” Wanda asked.

“Almost three months,” Yelena cut in.

"Wait, you knew?! Why didn't you tell me?" Kate yelled, slapping her girlfriend on the arm.

“Because I want to sleep in!” Yelena shouted.

"Nat, I'm thrilled for you," Steve exclaimed, gently kissing her cheek.

Bucky enveloped you in a warm embrace, planting a soft kiss on your head.

"Are you ready to take on the role of Uncle Bucky?" You lock eyes with him.

His face froze in sheer panic, like a deer caught in the headlights. “Oh my God.”

“You’ll be great, Buck,” you chuckled. 

Bruce and Helen wrapped Natasha in a warm, heartfelt embrace, simultaneously holding her close from both sides.

Helen turned to you with a look of relief. "Now that everyone knows, we can openly discuss your pregnancy," she said. "Have you been taking your prenatal vitamins regularly?

"Don't forget, you've got an appointment on Friday," Bruce said.

Without a second thought, you replied, "Yes and yes," as Natasha leaned in to gently kiss your cheek, followed by another on your belly.

Tony swaggered up to you with his trademark smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Bracing yourself for one of his classic Stark one-liners or a cheeky joke, you were entirely taken off guard when he unexpectedly enveloped you in a comforting and heartfelt hug.

“Congratulations, Romanoff,” Tony said. “It looks like you do know Santa best.” 

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 6

Summary: Reader goes to a stark party to meet some new people.

TW: Drinking, parties (ew), minor blood

Words: 2k

A/n Sorry for the late update my life is chaos.

Looking around at all the people you felt yourself beginning to feel a little insecure. You could pick out most of the people in the room from the TV alone. These weren’t just your average everyday people, these were superhero’s. And despite having powers yourself you still felt like you didn’t belong among legends.

Without realising it you had popped out your fangs, a small habit that displayed your nerves. You did realise it when it nicked your tongue. The coppery taste of blood in your mouth for a second before it healed.

Starting to feel a little overwhelmed Wanda placed a hand on your arm. Her touch was grounding and you were slowly being pulled back out of your own head and back to the party.

“It’s alright if it’s a bit much. It was for my first time as well. Are you ok?” Wanda said quietly to you.

You swallowed and nodded. “I’m alright. Just gimme a sec.”

Steeling your nerves and swallowing down your anxiety you stood a little taller and nodded to Wanda who was silently observing you.

After giving you a moment to adjust Wanda begun shepherding you over to a small group of people. Seemingly taking it upon herself to introduce you to people knowing if it was up to you, you would stay in the corner all night.

Before you had even realised Natasha had left your side she was handing you a drink with a cute little umbrella.

“I figure you liked it a bit fruity.” She said with a wink and your cheeks heated under the glare you shot her as she sipped her vodka martini.

As you arrived in front of the group Wanda seemed to want to introduce you to first, you took a sip of the drink, finding it to be rather good.

Looking around the group Wanda begun introducing you to it was an odd bunch.

“Y/n,” Wanda begun, gesturing to a tall blonde woman in a leather jacket. “This is Carol, or captain Marvel.” Wanda said with a teasing tone as carol rolled her eyes.

“Hi.” You said and Carol smiled warmly at you.

“Nice to meet you Y/n.” Carol said extending a hand which you took. She had a firm handshake and warm but not sweaty hands. The kind but mischievous twinkle in her eyes promised a fun kind of trouble.

“This old man is Nick Fury.” Natasha said clapping a hand on the back of a dark-skinned man with an eyepatch.

“Watch yourself Romanoff.” He said but Nat just smirked. “Nice to meet you kid.” He said extending a hand. After shaking his hand Natasha introduced you to the last person in the group.

“This is Agent Maria Hill.” Nat said elbowing her in the ribs and receiving a heatless glare in response.

“Nice to meet you.” She said giving a welcoming nod to you which you returned.

“So I hear you’re the newest spider in town?” Carol asks smiling at you as she took a swig of her beer.

“Uhhh … yeah.” You said rubbing the back of your neck.

“No need to be so nervous kid, we don’t bite. Unless you want me to.” Carol winked and you smiled back shyly not realising your fangs were out.

“Wow kid. Nice teeth.” Carol said. “Is that a spider thing?” She said looking curious.

“Yeah.” You said putting them away again.

“That’s pretty cool.” Carol said.

“We’re lucky she doesn’t bite.” Wanda said teasingly.

“I dunno,” Nat said rejoining the group with Maria. “I’d let her bite me.” She said with a wink and you choked on the sip you had just taken of your drink.

Coughing as Nat burst out laughing, Wanda pounded your back while Maria was lecturing Natasha in an amused fashion. Carol simply watched with a grin which matched Nats despite being told off.

Fury simply watched with his upper lip twitching as if it wanted to smile but wasn’t allowed which would probably have some level of accuracy to it.

When you regained your composure and your voice, your cheeks were stained with a dark blush.

“So, are you an avenger now kid?” Carol asked.

“I’m not sure.” You said.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to Stark and Rogers about that one.” Fury said looking at you for a reaction. You simply blinked looking at him and only looking away when you realised, he wasn’t going to elaborate.

“Either way, welcome to our little bunch. If you ever need anything or just to escape the compound of chaos, give me a call.” Carol said and Maria agreed.

“I’ve only ever seen Nat take a liking to something this fast once before and that was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” Maria said receiving a punch from Nat in the arm replying only with a smirk.

“So, how’d the whole spider thing happen?” Carol asked looking curious.

“I should have said this is y/n Parker.” Wanda said emphasising your last name.

“Like Peter Parker?” Carol asked.

“My little brother.” You clarified with a nod.

“So does being part spider run in the family or did you both do a deal with Satan?” Maria asks and you laughed feeling a bit less anxious now the vibe had changed and there was some alcohol in your blood.

“Peter and I both ended up on the field trip where he got his powers. I was chaperoning and he was … being Peter. Anyways Parker luck and we both got bit by the dumb spider.” You said.

“So you’ve just been keeping a low profile since?” Maria asked.

“Yeah. Something like that. I mean I would take Peter’s old suits for a spin when I could but not too often. Our powers differ a little so I had to play the part and not do some things he couldn’t.” You shrugged sipping your drink again.

“Well it sounds like your well adjusted to it all.” Carol complimented.

You snorted in response. “Adjusted, maybe. Cursed, definitely. What can I say Parker luck is real. I almost got it tattooed once.” You said shrugging.

“Well, it’s been great to see you all again, but I need to take y/n to make the rounds. Learn some new names and see some fresh faces.” Wanda said saying goodbye before dragging you away with her hand clasped tightly around your own.

Natasha lingered with her friends for a little longer while wanda and you were swallowed up into another small group as wanda didn’t want to overwhelm you with too many people at once.

When she came to a stop you were stood in front of a few couches with various familiar faces lounging around talking and laughing.

“Hi honey.” A voice said and you looked over to the blue couch to see Aunt May sat next to Pepper, both holding a glass of white wine.

“Hi Aunt May.” You said feeling a little more comfortable with her around. She always made you feel safe.

“You look amazing sweetheart.” May said.

“I love the dress.” Pepper pitched in and you nodded thanking her.

Pepper patted the seat next to her and you slid into the spot beside her as Natasha appeared from nowhere and handed you a new drink, taking the glass you hadn’t realised was empty.

“Fruity.” Natasha whispered in your ear but this time you swatted her as she disappeared laughing to get herself another drink.

“How many of those have you had?” May asked.

“Not nearly enough to be drunk with my metabolism.” You said rolling your eyes.

“You your brother will drink me out of house and home, and I already feed four enhanced people with the metabolism of fifteen people.” Tony said rolling his eyes.

“Be nice Tony. Plus, Peter can’t even drink yet.” Pepper said swatting his arm.

“Oh right. Yeah, that kids never touching alcohol. I watched him trip over his own feet too many times in the past week to count. I can’t imagine he would be able to even stand if he ever got drunk.” Tony said shaking his head at the idea making you and May laugh.

“Im afraid they both are clumsy.” May said and you groaned scrubbing a hand over your face.

“Really?” Wanda asked her curiosity peaked. “Any good stories?” She asked with a mischievous smirk on her lips.

“Oh, too many to count.” May said laughing and waving a hand to indicate how many.

“Please enlighten us.” Clint said seemingly having appeared from nowhere and plopping himself down on the couch opposite pepper and may. He slung an arm around Tony who promptly shoved him off.

“Personal space birdbrain.” Tony grumbled. “But please, do spill.” He said ignoring pepper protective glare he was receiving.

“Oh, I don’t know…” May said glancing at you as you shook your head pleading with her to drop it. “What about just the flip trip one?” She asked and you swallowed pausing for a second before nodding.

“Fine.” You grumbled as Clint and Tony cheered.

“Whats got feathers and grease monkey so happy?” Nat said sitting down next to Clint.

“Story-time about the Parker’s.” Stark said. “More importantly … embarrassing story time.” He clarified and nat looked at you with a raised brow as you just shook your head and slumped over to bury your face in Wanda’s neck. The alcohol making you slightly more confident and comfortable around them.

“Alright. Well as long as I can recall they have both been clumsy. But there was one time after the spider-bite that their spider sense made it even more interesting. Peter was going into their room and Y/n was heading to the living room. They both must have sensed it because peter tripped over his own feet and before he could land flat on his face, he did a front flip and landed in a crouch with one hand on the ground. Y/n would have been in his way, but she had hopped up and stuck to the ceiling. So, she was hanging on by her fingertips and peter was standing back up as she let go of the roof and fell on top of him.” May said with a chuckle.

Tony’s face was lit up like a kid on Christmas. Pepper was stifling a smile and Nat had snorted into her drink. Wanda was trembling slightly under you as her body shook with suppressed giggles as her hand glided softly through your hair as your face was still buried in her neck hiding.

Clint whistled lowly. “Impressive … yet also not.” He said chuckling to himself.

“ok enough of that.” You whined and May smiled at you softly.

“Alright honey. How about pepper tells us some stories about stark.” May said sharing a mischievous smirk with pepper who immediately grinned at stark who grumbled to himself about betrayal.

As pepper launched into a story about the time the great Tony stark had turned up to a meeting sans pants, May pulled you aside.

“You haven’t told them have you?” She said in a low whisper.

“Told them what?” You mumbled looking at your shoes.

“Come on Y/n. I know its different now but he’s not just your brother. I know it hurts but he’s still your-“

“I know.” You said cutting May off before she could finish and say the word that brought pain to your very soul. “But he’s not May. Not anymore … its different. I had to live without him for five years. It changes you. It changed me.“ you mumbled wishing you had grabbed your drink before this impromptu sidebar.

“They’ll see your file eventually, they will connect the dots. It would be better coming from the two of you if you told them yourselves.” May said taking on a sad almost worried voice.

“I’ll talk to Petey about it.” You said and she rubbed a hand up and down your bicep and offered as small smile.

“Good.” May said before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As the two of you rejoined the group your eyes had a little less of a glint in them. The pain still raw from things you didn’t want to remember.

The battle against Thanos had been somewhat of a sore subject around the tower and you didn’t want to bring up the avengers failure.

The rest of the party was smooth sailing as things began to die down.

@tia-thesimp @lizzielillvr @leenasayeed @justarandomreaderxoxo @sycamorelibrary754 @dorabledewdroop @redwolfqueen19 @sadlesbeansstuff @idkwhatever580

Part 7

[americas-ass-writing]

The Celestial Bond

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: ~4k

Summary: Your friends the stars reunite you with an old friend that missed you just like you missed him.

Warnings: family trauma, reader feeling unloved, inaccurate royal au probably ... I think that's it? If not please don't hesitate to reach out

Author's Note: This is my entry for the Horny Hoes Hootenanny by the sweet @yenzys-lucky-charm and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork 💙 I'm so sorry this is late, the muse has left me but I finally managed to end it 🥰 The prompt I used was 🍁 "Here, take my sweater/coat/scarf/jacket/mittens" and Stargazing which I rolled in their little raffle 🥰 also I'm super impressed I wrote 4k words for this???

Divider by @saradika-graphics

For a long time it's just been you and the stars. Just you and the glowing orbs in the sky. Every now and then a owl that would hoot or you'd hear other animal sounds as you sat at the edge of the woods. The stars and the noises were your only friends nowadays.

Once upon a time you had friends... a friend. You'd often stargaze with him, until he had to leave. His departure marked the beginning of loss... not loss in a sense that people died but loss of friendship, of kind people around you, of your families favour.

It's not like they ever loved you, they accepted you but were not keen to have to help you. But if you were of help they liked to keep you around. Eventually they grew tired of you and became more cruel. They never got physical but their words cut deeper than any knife could have.

So eventually you left, clearly not wanted there. You took everything you owned and marched to the village on the outside of your kingdom.

It was dangerous there for sure. If a war with the neighbouring kingdom started it would be the first place to be hit. But it was cheap and you were able to rent a room over a barn with what little you had saved and nowadays earned. It wasn't much but it was home.

You worked odd jobs around the village to survive and luckily it was enough. With no special talents that are of use to work in any service you had to fall back on the jobs no one wanted to do. Clean the stables, collect hard to reach plants in the woods and so on.

Even the people of the village didn't want anything to do with you besides paying you to do the odd jobs.

Sometimes you thought about moving on to the next village but nobody would want you there either. Surviving would be harder and who knew if you'd see the stars as good as you did here? The stars, your only companions.

The energy in the air was weird today. Your little village at unease because some guards and royalty from the other kingdom travelled through earlier. Nobody knows what the royal visit would bring. Maybe they truly were just on their way through? Hopefully whatever business leads them to your king will be settled peacefully. You go about your day doing your odd jobs to earn enough money.

It's late in the afternoon when you carry some filled water buckets back to the bakery. The well is far away and the baker doesn't have time to get the supplies he needs for the evening so it's your job to do. You're just about to cross the main road when a guard from earlier with long brown hair rides past you. You take a step back to let the royal entourage through and the guard nods to you as if to say thank you for waiting. You watch them pass by. First the brown haired guard with a second next to him who even sends you, a peasant, a dashing smile.

The carriage follows. It's dark blue with golden ornaments. The most beautiful thing you've seen besides those blue eyes who watch you intently from inside. Quickly realising it must be a royal from the other kingdom you lower your head in respect.

The carriage drives past you and the last guards, a blonde man with a quiver on his back and a red haired woman pass by on their horses. Both don't pay much attention to you, exept another nod to thank you for waiting. You're confused and look after them for a moment before you hear the baker call for you from across the road. You pick up the buckets again and hurry over to fulfill your job.

With the few coins earned today and a leftover dry loaf of bread you make your way home. In your mind still plays the respect those guards or knights have shown you today. It's been the kindest thing that happened to you in a long time.

You're back in your spot late in the evening. You can't stay up for too long so you're happy the days are a bit shorter now. The stars greet you as if you're old friends, to a degree you are. They've heard many of your woes... If they could hear you quietly talk to yourself.

You lean your head back on the tree behind you, looking up at the sparkling night sky. You still know a few constellations by heart even after all these years. Others you don't know, you wish you did but that information was not meant for you. For some uneducated peasant trying to make ends meet. You wish your friend could have stayed longer all those years ago. He knew all about them and taught you what he knew. But he had to leave just as sudden as the stars leave when the sunrise rolls in.

Dry leaves crunching behind you get your attention. Steps. But not from an animal... those are human steps. You quickly get up, hiding behind the tree, watching who might approach. It's a tall, muscular figure. Long blond hair and a beard to match. The closer he comes the more details you see and soon those same blue eyes who watched you earlier fall upon you again. The person in the carriage?

You blink at him dumbfounded and take in the new details revealed by the moonlight. Brown boots, dark pants, white shirt and a dark blue cloak with an ornate design. The closer you look the more it looks like stars but your mind forces you not to dwell on it too long. This is clearly a royal or at least someone with a higher standing than you. You hurry to curtsey but his hand stops you.

"Please don't... You, especially you will never have to bow for me" his voice was smooth like honey, deep and comforting. It strangely gave you a feeling of safety and... home. You blink at him confused and he moves closer to you slowly, as if not to spook you.

His eyes wander over you and when they meet yours they seem to have found an answer to a question you don't know. You're glued to the spot you're standing just by his look alone. What would a royal want from you? Why shouldn't you bow? Did he need a new chambermaid? That probably paid well... You could maybe even do more than survive.

Your name from his lips pulls you from your mind. Your eyes snap to his and your brows knit in confusion. "How do you..." The question stays unfinished as he takes another step closer to you.

"It's me... Steve." He says softly. "Your Stevie" he adds in an almost hopeful tone. Your head shakes on its on as you try to process. This man in front of you couldn't be your Stevie. He was small, scrawny, soft... And yet the man in front of you had the same brilliant kind eyes, his voice sounded similar enough and the dirty blond of his hair matched too. How... Your Stevie was a royal? It would explain why he never came back...

Another step and he's right in front of you. With hesitation he takes your hands in his, his eyes searching yours. "Please... Please tell me you remember me." He whispers, almost desperate. "Please. I never forgot you. Always thought of you when I watched the stars at night, often dreamed of you. Of us reuniting." He adds, his words spoke nothing but truth.

"Why didn't you come back?" was the only thing able to leave your scrambled brain. His eyes turned sad and he briefly glanced away. "I wanted to... But" a brief sigh. "My father died... He. He was the king of Brooken. My mother and me left because he was cruel but when he died... We had to return. My mother took her rightful place as queen before the Rumlows could take over and rage war upon the lands. I couldn't stay. I'm so sorry... We should have taken you along." His hands squeezed yours softly.

"You're... The prince of Brooken?" You ask, looking over him once more. "The king of Brooken... I had to take over once I came off age." He explains. "A king?" Your eyes grow wide as he nods.

"But I'm still your Stevie. I may look different but I'm still your friend... Which is why when I saw you today I knew I had to come back. Find you. I was hoping you'd stargaze tonight." He admits. "I want to bring you back to my kingdom. Give you the life you deserve." He whispers, his eyes holding nothing but earnest and something else... something adoring.

"The life I deserve?" You ask, confusion clear in your face. His hands let go of yours and move to softly cup your face.

"Yes... A life with no worries, no hard work, full of people who love you" his warmth seeps through your skin and spreads around your face. His promise of a better life sounds good. And since it was your Stevie you're sure he'd keep it. A tiny part of your brain was hesitant to accept. You'd been alone for so long, you're not quite sure there's another option for you but as you look into his eyes and see the warmth they hold for you you're convinced. You nod as much as you can with his big hands cupping your face still and a brilliant smile takes over his face.

With the few belongings you wanted to take along packed you make your way to where he left his horse. He gently lifts you up before mounting behind you. His strong arms caging you into their safety as you lean back. The ride isn't too long but still takes some time. Every now and then the slowly thinning tree tops let the stars and moonlight shine through, your friends watching you as your knight in shining armour takes you home. The stars first brought you together and now helped you find your way back to each other. You smile as they twinkle down at you, as if they're winking at you.

Steve's warmth soon isn't enough as the temperature drops. He notices your shivers and slows his horse down to a stop. "Here, take my cloak" is whispered as he drapes it carefully over your shoulders, closing the button on the front so it wouldn't fall off. He carefully arranges it around to make sure the cold can't get to you. "Thank you" you say softly, looking back at him as he gives you another brilliant smile before riding off.

The sun is just coming up as you arrive at the castle. The last remains of the stars slowly fading away. You're glad they watched over your and Steve's journey back to his beautiful home.

The castle was impressive, grey stones with moss between them. The city in front of it big and beautiful. It looked well taken care of and deep in your heart you knew your Stevie would take care of his people. His horse slowly trotts through the round gate into the walls of the castle. You're greeted with a stunning fountain in the middle of a courtyard and an unimpressed redhead. You've seen her the day before.

"Care to explain why you snuck out without telling anyone where you went to?" She snaps at the man behind you. He stops his horse and shifts a bit. "I've been back in Evrat" he says calmly as if this woman wasn't furious at him. He dismounts his horse and gently helps you down.

"Evrat? Without protection? Steve!" She sounds exhausted. "You could have at the very least have taken Bucky!" Her hands are in the air before they find their place at her hips.

"You know I couldn't have done that. Because it would have woken you. And you either wouldn't have let me go or you would have told Ma." You perk up at that. His mom was still alive. She was here.

"Yeah because it's stupid to go to Evrat on your own. And for what? A woman?" She looked at you but her face gave away that she meant no offense. "Not just a woman. She's my friend! I couldn't lose her again. Not when I've spent years trying to find her." He argued, dropping the calm suddenly. He's met with a huff of frustration and a sigh.

"I'm in charge of your protection. I can't protect you if you manipulate my job. Steve... I would have come with you." Her face full of worry. "What if something would have happened?"

"I can protect myself Nat." Just as stubborn as you remember him. She lets out another huff and rolls her eyes but drops the topic, knowing fully well that arguing with Steve was senseless. Stepping closer she extends one of her hands to you. You blink at it for a moment but decide to take up her offer. She introduces herself as Natasha and you give her your name. With a nod she looks back to Steve. "Never again." Her finger pointing in his face as she warns him amuses you. As if she wasn't talking to her king. But the king in question gives her a sheepish smile in return, no anger or offense like any other king would conjure. "We'll see about that." He teases before he turns back to you.

Natasha rolls her eyes and marches off towards the brunette guard you've seen yesterday. He seems amused at her frustration and follows her inside.

Your attention is pulled back to the man in front of you. Your Stevie. He smiles softly and takes your hand in his before he leads you inside the castle.

His cloak swishes around you as you follow him through the castle. He has given you a little tour and introduced you to the most important people. Bucky, the brunette guard from yesterday and earlier, his friend even before he met you. Buckys eyes are curious as he eyes you but he stays silent. Next up is Sam, the one who gave you a brilliant smile yesterday.

"Don't worry about Bucky, he's the broody kind" he jokes with another smile as he shakes your hand. "You know what Wilson?" Bucky starts and Steve softly pulls you away from their bickering. "You'll get used to it." He chuckles lowly and directs your gaze to the blonde man from yesterday. "This is Clint, best marksman in the kingdom." Clint gives you another nod and stretches out his hand for you to take. You smile and gently shake it, introducing yourself. Natasha simply gives you another nod.

"Your mom is waiting for you at breakfast." She says, one of her eyebrows lifting at Steve. The later breaks out in a excited grin. "Mom will be so excited to see you again!" He exclaims before he takes your hand and leaves Clint and Natasha with the still bickering men.

The room you enter is warm and cozy. The dark wood of the furniture stands out against the muted tones of the fabrics that are spread around the room. There's fresh flowers on the table surrounded by all kinds of delicious food that up until now you've never even dreamt of eating. Steve squeezes your hand and leads you inside.

"Ah Steve. How generous of you to grace me with your presence" an older blond woman walks in through one of the side doors smirking, clearly teasing with her son. She's dressed in a blue robe with a sun pattern and stops short when she spies you. A few blinks later she sets herself in motion again to cup your face, her smile turning watery. "Oh my little sweetheart" she whispers, her eyes full of adoration before she hugs you tight. You melt into her motherly embrace, your heart filling with warmth. It's been a long time since you had someone being so sincere and joyed to see you. And that after all these years she clearly still remembered you? It brought tears to your own eyes. When she pulls back she's quick to wipe them away, giving you a soft smile. The skin around her eyes crinkles as she does so which reminds you just how long you haven't seen the both of them.

"I'm so glad to have you with us." She says after she whispered your name. "Please sit, eat. You must be starving!" She softly pulls you to the table and makes you sit on one of the plush chairs. Steve follows behind, a fond smile on his face as he watches you two interact. He sits down next to you and starts pouring himself some tea before his mother calls for another set of porcelain. She sits on the other side of you and holds your hand between hers, studying your face.

"You've grown into a beautiful young woman my dear" she says after a moment of silence, her blue eyes shining as they flit over your face. Steve has so many features of her. The later places a cup and plate in front of you and starts preparing your tea for you. Always caring the two of them.

Breakfast is filled with questions, answers and laughter. You're well fed and so happy after you're done. Sarah almost won't let you leave her sight but her son convinces her to let you go. At least to wash up and change your clothes. With your hand in his you follow him through the castle to a room - your room.

It's bright and sunny inside. The four poster bed is surrounded by white see through curtains. There's a vanity across from it and a fireplace nestled between two big windows. You're speechless as you take it in. This was bigger than anywhere you've lived and this was only for guests?

"I'll have the tailor make some dresses for you. For now Natasha has put some in the dresser for you to chose from. Two maids will be here soon to draw you a bath and help you." Steve explains softly as he watches you. You brush your fingertips over the soft bedding and look to him. Bathed in sunlight his hair is almost glowing like a halo. "Don't worry this won't be your room for long. They're getting yours ready at the moment. I want it to be perfect for you." He admits as he steps closer once more. You frown but before you can protest that this is more than enough he cups your cheek with one hand. His eyes are searching yours for a moment. Something flits through them and it's then that you can see him decide something. His hand drops and instead he hugs you tight.

"I missed you... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I had to leave you behind. I should have taken care of you, made sure you're safe... I... I'm sorry" his voice is full of emotions as he hugs you tighter. You're about to say something back but he continues. "But I'll take care of you now. You'll never have to miss out on anything. Your word is my command, I'll do anything for you. I'll make sure you're loved and taken care of." He pulls back a bit, his eyes are full of determination and you can see he's not saying something but before you can ask two young women walk in. They bow their heads in front of their king and Steve gives them a smile.

"I'll leave you to it... Once you're done can you inform me?" He looks at one of the maids who nods in return. "Thank you. Take good care of her. The whole relaxing experience okay?" He turns back to you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'll see you in a bit" he whispers as his arms fall to his sides. He takes you in one more time before he leaves.

The bath was strange but wonderful. It's weird to you that someone would assist you in washing yourself but you'd never felt so clean, relaxed and never smelled so good before. You were dressed in a beautiful dress and the women helped you braid your hair. You were so thankful and expressed such which was a bit surprising to them.

Once you were done one of them flitted off to tell Steve you were and within a few minutes he entered your room with a dashing smile.

"You look beautiful" he says softly as he approaches you. You blush as you thank him and try to avoid his eyes but he has different plans. His fingers softly lift your chin so he can look into your eyes. Your stomach feels like a million butterflies dance in it as you look into his beautiful blue ones. He truly was handsome and so kind to you. How could you not have feelings for him? Especially so fast. But he was a king and you were a mere commoner... nothing would ever develop out of your stupid crush.

"Your room is done. Would you like to see it?" Steve asks, his eyes still looking into yours. You nod hesitantly and are met with another dashing smile. He softly takes your hand in his and leads you through the castle. You stop in front of the door next to his room, you remember from the tour he gave you earlier. Your brows furrow a bit. Wasn't the room next to the kings reserved for his queen? Before you can address it and ask Steve about it he opens the door to a sunlit beautiful room. It's bigger than the first room you've been in and decorated in mostly white and and light blue. The bedding is a dark blue with white stitching. When you look closer it's a thousand little stars stitched into the dark blue fabric. You're in awe at that alone.

“I… this is my room? Steve…” he squeezes your hand and looks at you. “It is. Do you like it?” His eyes look hopeful as he asks his silly question. “Like it? I love it! It's breathtaking… thank you” you smile at him before you decide to hug him. He's done more than enough for you but now he gives you such a wonderful room too? “But… it's right next to yours. Doesn't that make it the bridal suite?” You ask and he tenses a bit in your arms.

“Yes… it is.” He licks his lips as he looks at you. “So I need to move out once you get married?” You look from his lips to his eyes. He shakes his head, he seems to be contemplating. “No. Yes? If… you… I mean.” He takes a deep breath and suddenly looks determined. “I want you to be my bride. My future queen. My love. So you wouldn't have to move out unless you want to share my bed.” He says and your jaw almost drops to the floor. You? A queen?

As if he can sense your inner turmoil he softly cups your face again. “You'd be more than perfect being a queen. And you deserve it. You deserve a good life with people who love you. They'll all do… I'll just love you most” he adds the last part in a whisper. You look at him, still a bit unsure but before your thoughts tell you otherwise he softly kisses you. All doubts are out of your brain immediately as his lips softly move against yours.

He loves you. He truly does. And he'll be making sure you'll always feel that way, you'll never only have the stars on your side… now you have him too.

[natashaslesbian]

Nats daughter is going on her first mission and it doesn't go well. She's hurt and lost somewhere until Nat finds her and brings her back home

Send Out An Army

Word Count: 1.4K

————

Natasha was beside herself with worry. Her one and only baby girl off on her first solo mission. You’d been arguing with her for weeks, trying to convince her you were ready. It was only natural that she was worried but you had gone through the academy training just like everyone else. Natasha finally agreed to let you go when she sat in on your training session with Steve and you managed to knock him on his ass three times. You left a few hours ago and so far Nat had tried training, reading and even resorted to doing her paperwork to keep her distracted. She was in her office now, trying her best to keep her eyes off the clock.

It was quiet in Natasha’s office, so the sound of her mobile ringing took her by surprise. An unknown number appeared on the screen so Nat was skeptical about answering. She brought the phone up to her ear whispering a hello and listening to the crackle coming from the other end. “Hello?” Natasha asked again, being met with the same silence. She was about to hang up when a small voice called through “mama?” It whispered. “Y/n?” Natasha said, pulling the phone back up to her ear “baby are you okay?” She asked with a panicked voice. “Hurts mommy” you mumbled “what hurts baby? What’s happened where are you?” Natasha frantically asked as she made her way to find Tony and the rest of the team. “Lost” you coughed through the phone.

Natasha came bounding down the stairs where she met Clint and Steve in the kitchen. “Natasha?” Clint said, seeing the fear in his best friends eyes. “Y/n baby talk to me, where are you? What hurts?” The redhead said as she dragged the boys down the hall with her. “I don’t know mama” you cried as Natasha switched her phone to loud speaker “baby have you activated your tracker?” Your mom asked as Clint filled Tony in best he could of the situation. “Lost it. I’m scared mommy” you mumbled. “It’s alright sweetie we’re gonna find you I promise” Natasha cooed down the phone. “Stark where is she?” Steve asked as he joined Tony at the computers. “I’m not sure, somewhere in Bulgaria” he said. “How can you not know where?” Steve said frantically “it’s not standard procedure only Fury knows the exact location” Tony said, trying his best to hack into S.H.I.E.L.Ds files as quickly as possible. “Then call Fury!” Clint shouted.

You began coughing loudly over the phone “mommy” you cried. “It’s okay baby girl take some deep breaths for me alright we’re gonna find you” Natasha said as calmly as she could. Tony continued to scan the files as Steve headed off to gather the rest of the team and prepare the quinjet. “Mm tired” you said through the phone “y/n I need you to stay awake for me okay sweetheart” Natasha said, fighting back her tears. “Y/n?” She questioned when you failed to answer her “y/b baby talk to me” she pleaded. “Tony find her now!” Clint shouted, taking the phone from Nats hand “y/n its uncle Clint, can you tell me where you are? What’s around you bug?” He asked, pleading for you to respond. The silence was deafening as the three waited desperately for your voice to come back through the phone. “She’s in Yambol!” Tony cheered as he finally cracked your location “okay Steve’s on the jet let’s go” Clint said. “She’s dead I know she is” Natasha cried “hey don’t go there yet, we’re gonna find her” Clint comforted as he guided the redhead to the jet.

~~~~~

It felt like weeks you had been lying in the grass, the sharp pain had long ago turned into a dull ache and you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Your cries fell into the open space and you fought to keep your breath, the warm pool of blood being the only thing keeping away the cold. “Mom” you whined into the empty space, pleading for your mother to come and find you. You held on for as long as you could until your eyes finally fluttered closed. In your last consciousness your ears began to ring, sounding like a small crunch of leaves along the ground. Your mind started playing tricks on you, the sound of your mom calling echoing through your head.

Your shoulders began to shake and a soft hand against your cheek pulled you back into reality. “Y/n come on open your eyes baby” a familiar voice called. “Mommy?” You mumbled as you pealed open your eyes “I’m here sweetie, mamas got you” Natasha cooed as she lent over you protectively. “You found me” you smiled up at your mom “yeah we did baby” Nat said as she gently stroked your hair “we?” You sleepily asked. “Hey kid” Clint said as he came to your side and began tending to the open wound on your abdomen “we’re gonna get you home alright” he said. You groaned as your uncle pressed down on your injury, quietly crying out in pain. “Shhh sweet girl it’s ok, you’re okay now” Natasha comforted you “thought I was gonna die mama” you weakly said.

Natasha lent her body down beside yours to give you a tight hug, avoiding your wound “oh my baby I’m so sorry” she said. “I should never have let you come this is all my fault” your mom cried. You slowly reached up your hand to wipe away your mamas tears “no mommy” you whispered “you saved me” Natasha took your hand in hers and gently kissed it. You cried out again as Clint pressed down on your abdomen “sorry kiddo” he empathised “so tired” you groaned, eyelids fluttering closed “no no come on sweetie keep your eyes open for us ok” Natasha pleaded “you’re gonna be alright baby we’re gonna get you home” your mom cooed. You tried to keep your eyes open but being back in your mamas arms you couldn’t help but bask in her comfort. Before long you lost the battle, falling into unconsciousness. “we need to get her to the jet” Clint said to Natasha.

~~~~~

You felt a gentle scratch along your scalp as you began to wake up, unsure of where you were and almost who you were, until you opened your eyes. “Hey baby girl” Natasha said as she rose to her feet by your side. Her red hair was messy with loose pieces falling by her face, the bags under her eyes were a give away as to how long you had been out. “Mommy” you croaked out “you look tired” you said. Natasha let out a small laugh as a stray tear fell from her eye “oh y/n, I’m okay I promise, you’re the one who needs looking after right now” she said “we look after each other mama” you smiled, attempting to sit up but stopping as a sharp pain shot through your abdomen, reminding you off why you were in the infirmary. You sighed loudly as Natasha softly took a hold of you “easy baby, just lie back ok” she said as she helped you to lay back down “you get some rest ok, we’ll talk later when you’re properly awake” your mom said as she placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

It was a few hours later when you woke up again, your mom still sitting by your side. “There’s my girl” Natasha said “look who’s here to see you” she said as she pointed to the man on the other side of your bed. “Uncle Clint” you smiled “thanks…for what you did” you said sadly “hey none of that” Clint said as he saw your eyes well up “don’t you dare go blaming yourself kiddo, missions go wrong, whatever happened wasn’t your fault” he said. “It was” you cried “what did happen sweetie?” Your mom asked. “The brief said the facility was abandoned, but when I got there it was crawling with agents” you began, your mom placed a comforting hand over your own. “I set off the alarm trying to get in through the back door, I tried to get away and I thought I’d managed but when I stopped in the woods an agent came up behind me. I didn’t think he had any weapons so I fought him without mine but he pulled out a knife. I fell down when he cut me and I thought he was gonna kill me but they called him back to the facility” you sobbed.

Natasha felt the anger rise in her chest “the brief was wrong?” She asked “imma kill Fury” she said, answering her own question. “Mommy don’t go” you called after her as she headed for the door. “I’ll go, you stay here” Clint said as he guided Natasha back over to your bed “you’re not as scary as me” she giggled as she sat back down with you “no” Clint said “but the least I can do is warn Fury of angry mama Nat” he said as he pulled the door closed. Your mom turned her full attention back to you as she sat next to you on the bed “I’m here baby girl” she cooed “it wasn’t your fault ok” she said as she brushed your hair away from your face. You dropped your gaze, still feeling guilty despite what Natasha said. “Hey” your mom said as she lifted up your chin “I am so proud of you” she said “why? I failed” you whimpered. “I’m not talking about the mission, I’m proud of you y/n” Natasha said, leaving a soft kiss on your hairline.

“How did you find me?” You sleepily asked “Tony hacked into S.H.I.E.L.Ds data base” Natasha said. “He did?” You questioned “yeah he did” Nat answered “everyone was so worried “I’ve never seen Bruce move so fast” your mom giggled. You let out a small laugh at the thought. “I didn’t think they’d all come” you said “I knew you’d find me mama but I didn’t think everyone else would come to get me” you mumbled, almost falling asleep again. “They’re your family baby, of course they’d come” your mom cooed “you know they care about you right?” Natasha asked “I know” you smiled up at her “you’ve got a whole army of love and protection behind you y/n, don’t ever forget that” Nat said as she tucked you up in your baby blanket, she made sure you had it the second the team brought you to the medical bay. “Rest up okay baby” your mom cooed. “Can you read to me mommy? Please?” You asked with half closed eyes. “You never have to ask twice sweetie” Natasha said as she pulled your book from her bag, another essential she’d grabbed along with your blanket. Her soft voice lulled you into a comfortable and deep sleep. The deepness with which she spoke her words causing a gentle hum throughout the room. Your mom continued to read long after you had fallen asleep, comforting both you and herself.

————

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904

[beah388love]

Marvel Masterlist

🧡= Little!Reader Fics

💛= My Fav Fics

* = Smut/Nsfw

Bucky Barnes

< Emotional >

- summary: Your emotional because of your period and Bucky comforts you

< Night hallucinations > 💛

- Summary: Bucky’s little wakes up alone and has a night hallucination whilst buckys in a meeting

< Hide and seek >

- Summary: Bucky has a mission so Tony looks after you and he loses you…

< Silent Treatment >

- Summary: You give Bucky the Silent Treatment…

< So soft… >

- Summary: your thighs are buckys weakness

< No More Pain? >

- summary: you have healing powers…

< Insecurities >

- summary: you’re insecure and Bucky reminds you how beautiful you are.

< Beach day took a turn >

- summary: Beach day took a turn and you got hurt…

Steve Rogers

< Language! >

- summary: Sam and buck accidentally teach you some new words…

< Promise? >

- summary: Steve accidentally scares you

< Never scare me like that again >

- summary: Steve’s been accidentally ignoring you

Tony Stark

< Meanie >

- Summary: One of Tony’s men is mean to you

Thor Odinson

< Too quiet…? >

- summary: someone says you’re too quiet for Thor and too different to be together

< Concussion >

- summary:

Loki Laufeyson

< Bad Daddy… >

- Summary: you have a bad nightmare about loki…

< You get Lost… >

- summary: you get lost…

< Night Terrors >

- summary:

Peter Parker

< Arachnophobia >

- summary: you have arachnophobia…

Sam Wilson

Natasha Romanoff

Clint Barton

Bruce Banner

< Green Daddy? >

- summary: Bruce turns into hulk….

Peter Quill

< Teething >

- summary: you are teething…

< I don’t feel good… >

- summary: you get stung by an unknown plant

Stucky

Avengers

< Bird-Fairy! >

- summary: you make Sam fairy wings!

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Kinktober Day 3 - Orgasm Control

Pairing: Clint Reno x reader

Word count: 1.7K

TWs: Age difference (reader about 20 years older than Clint), begging, licking fingers clean, praise kink, handjobs, oral sex (m and f receiving) fingering, p in v sex, little bit of spanking, teasing,

A/N: Is this the most orgasms written in 1.7K words?! Thanks to @jhoneybees for the idea for this one.

Kinktober masterlist

Your hand moves up his thigh under the long nightshirt, and you grasp his dick firmly. He almost yelps at the touch, he’s so hard and close already one stroke is all he needs before you feel warm wetness all over your hand. You keep pumping, your other hand pulling the nightshirt up to uncover the mess he’s made. You’ve seen a lot of things in your time, but a guy cumming this quickly shocks even you. He whines a little and blushes. 

“Sorry… I w-was too excited…”

His hands reach to touch you but you brush them away, instead lifting the hand that’s covered in his cum up to his lips. 

“Lick it clean for me.”

His eyes are like saucers. He wasn't expecting this when he snuck round to your house in the middle of the night and climbed through your bedroom window. Of course you’ve got a husband but there’s nothing wrong with a little bit on the side now and again. You feel like it’s your duty to train these young boys up so they’re decent once they get wives of their own.

“Go on,” you encourage. “It’s the least you could do, considering how long you lasted.”

His blush deepens and spreads all the way to his ears. This is so embarrassing. But he doesn’t know what else to do, so his tongue creeps out of his mouth and he starts to lick your hand, gingerly. 

“Good boy.”

His dick stirs at the praise and you can’t help but grin at the fact that he’s half-hard again by the time he’s finished. You’ve got time to train him. You start to stroke him again and his hips immediately buck into your hand. Biting your lip, you slow your movements down and watch his reaction. 

“Mmmm. Please.”

“You want to learn to control yourself?” You ask.

He nods eagerly. 

“This is how you do it,” you explain, patiently, your movements agonisingly slow now. 

He throws his head back and whines. 

“Shhh. You need to be quiet. You’re supposed to be sneaking around.”

He pouts and a whispered “sorry” falls from his lips. 

You smile. “You think you’re ready to try something else? Think you can control yourself?”

He nods again. “Yes please.”

“Such a polite boy,” you coo. 

His eyes are roaming all over your body, desperately wondering what you might do next. He’s never even seen a girl naked and he really wants to see and feel what’s under your nightie right now.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies.

That makes you moan a little yourself so you decide to distract him by leaning down and licking the length of him. He can feel his abdomen contracting, his body wanting to cum immediately again at the new and completely delicious sensation. He bites his lip and tries hard to think about something else. His brain lands on your reaction to him calling you ma’am. He might not have much experience but he’s a quick study. You liked it. 

You stroke him again and then slip your mouth over the tip, licking it again and again. He squeaks. 

“I’m gonna… ma’am if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum again.”

It’s your turn to be wide-eyed and a little turned on. He’d noticed your reaction and called you that name again. You pull back off him. 

“Clint, honey, if you’re gonna cum from just that, how do you think we’re ever going to make love?”

Your hand is still moving on him, and the combination of that, your slightly flushed face and the thing you just said makes his hips buck uncontrollably and he has his second accidental orgasm of the night. 

You shake your head and laugh, wordlessly lifting your hand to his mouth. He licks it clean without complaint. 

***

After his fourth orgasm, he lies with his head on the pillow, exhausted. He looks so pretty, rosy lips pouting a little, eyes glassy, hair dishevelled. You can’t resist kissing him, pushing your tongue into his unresisting mouth and exploring it. But you know it’s late, and he needs to go. 

“Come back tomorrow night for another lesson.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Before you go to sleep, you touch yourself thinking about him. He’s so eager to please, his pretty blue eyes looking into yours, looking constantly for approval. You look forward to tomorrow night.

***

This time you manage to swallow his dick completely before he cums unexpectedly down your throat. Since you can’t do what you did when he came on your hand, you turn him onto his stomach and give him a few hard slaps on the ass. 

“No cumming until I say.” You’ve decided to be a bit firmer with him now. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Into the pillow. 

You rub your legs together surreptitiously, and then roll him onto his back. Like some kind of magic trick, he’s basically hard again. You take him into your mouth completely, his pubic hair tickling your nose. He whines softly and starts to slowly roll his hips. This time, he manages to keep it together until you pull off him, staring down at his red, hard dick, sloppy with your saliva. You really want to fuck him but you’re not sure he’s ready. 

“I’m gonna count down from ten, and I want you to cum for me when I’m finished. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“10, 9, 8…” you stroke him firmly with your hand, watching his hands ball into fists trying to stop his orgasm. “...7, 6, 5…” he’s panting now, eyes screwed shut. “...4, 3, 2….1…”

“Now?” he pants, desperately. 

You grin. “Now.”

He lets go, cumming hard and long over your hand. The feeling is so good he has to put his fist in his mouth to stop himself making noise. He’s starting to think that delaying it makes it feel better. Maybe he likes to be teased.

***

“Since you were such a good boy for me last night, I think it might be time to show you something.”

You pull your nightie up and your panties off. He stares at your pussy unabashedly, fascinated by the sight of it. 

“Can I touch it, ma’am?”

You nod and guide his hand between your legs, helping him touch you in the way you like. Leaning back against the headboard and spreading your legs wide, you move your hand to his face. 

“I want you to lick me.”

He doesn’t need asking twice, putting his face between your legs and lapping up your arousal. You moan a little and grab the pillow behind you. You’d certainly taught him enough licking to make him good with his tongue, and he needs very little direction before he’s bringing you to a powerful climax. His heart swells with pride hearing you moan out “Clint,” as you cum. 

“Good boy,” you tell him, kissing him even though his face is covered in you. 

Your fingers gently ease his nightshirt up and you find him hard and leaking precum for you. 

“Let’s see to this first,” you tell him, pumping him quickly and expertly and making him cum in a matter of minutes, “and then you can make love to me.”

You’re not sure why you keep saying ‘make love’. You’re usually a little more crude, but something about his relentless politeness and his big blue eyes make you want to be softer. Something makes you want him to make love to you.  

You know you need to be in control, both because that’s the way your relationship is, and because you have to be able to get off him before he cums. It’s not worth risking the possibility of pregnancy. He might be cute, but you don’t need a baby at your time of life. So you straddle him as he sits at the head of the bed, and slowly sink down onto his dick. 

His eyes roll back in his head. The feeling of you all around him like this is so intense he doesn’t know what to do. His fingers grip the fabric of your nightie and he stares into your face with something akin to desperation. 

“It’s too much,” he whispers. 

You shake your head. “No, no. I want you to please me. You need to make me cum again, and then I’ll let you.”

“Ma’am I…” he mumbles, and you feel his dick twitch inside you. 

“Learn to control it.”

He whimpers but he nods, trying hard to think of something else again. Concentrating on thinking about each of the cows on the farm in turn as you start to slowly move on him. It’s helping a little bit, so he keeps doing it, and then he accidentally looks down at where you’re connected together and has to slam his hand down on the mattress in an attempt to stop himself cumming there and then. 

“Good boy,” you coo, knowing how hard this must be for him. 

You take his hand and press his thumb against your clit as you ride him faster, moans and sighs falling from your lips. He keeps trying to go back to thinking about the cows but you’re so pretty like this it’s hard to concentrate on livestock. It’s even worse when you tell him you’re about to cum and then he feels your walls squeeze him. He almost squeals, and you know you’ll have to move quickly, almost rolling off him and onto the bed. Somehow he manages to hold it together, but the noises he’s making and the begging he’s doing are completely obscene. 

“Please ma’am, please, I need ta cum… need it so bad ma’am…”

You roll closer to him and kiss his cheek. “Touch yourself.”

He does as he’s told, clenching his jaw as his hand moves as slowly as he can manage. 

“Cum for me, baby.”

It’s a matter of seconds later when his release shoots out, making a mess all over him and the bedclothes. You moan watching him, and you can’t help grabbing his face and kissing him passionately. He reciprocates immediately, wrapping himself around you, both of you messy and desperate for one another, despite what you’d just done. He’s making you feel 17 again. 

Eventually you pull back. “You should go.”

He nods, sadly. “Yes, ma’am.” And then, much brighter, “can I come back tomorrow?”

You’d usually say no. You don’t like to get too attached, and he’s learnt a lot. But you’re not sure that saying no to those big eyes is even possible. 

“Sure. I’d love that.”

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @another-identityofmine @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker

[cece693]

Ok uh Hi am new to this I just saw the " brilliant " fic which was 👏🏻👏🏻. Sooo I was wondering if u can make a fluff fic about clint barton x male reader, if thats ok with you?

Farm Boy (Clint Barton x Male Reader)

Hello! I'm actually not that much of a Hawkeye fan so it took me a while to write this and find motivation, but I think it turned out alright. Hope you enjoy it!

Clint Barton rarely got a day off. Between Avengers missions, SHIELD calls, and the occasional intergalactic catastrophe, his time at home was precious and fleeting. But today? Today was all his. All theirs. The sun was just peeking over the horizon when Clint stretched out in bed, the familiar creak of the old farmhouse adding to the peaceful ambiance. Beside him, you were still curled up in the covers, your hair tousled and your breathing soft. Clint smiled lazily, taking a moment to watch you before slipping out of bed as quietly as he could.

The kitchen smelled like coffee and bacon a half hour later. Clint hummed to himself as he flipped pancakes, a skill honed over years of needing to impress his husband after burning a few too many breakfasts in the early days of your relationship.

“Is that bacon I smell, or am I dreaming?” Your groggy voice drifted into the kitchen, accompanied by the sound of your socked feet shuffling across the hardwood floor.

Clint turned with a grin, a spatula in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. “Morning, sleepyhead. I figured I’d let you sleep in for once, but your stomach had other plans, huh?”

You chuckled, pulling him into a quick kiss before stealing the coffee. “You know me too well.”

The morning passed in a haze of quiet domesticity. Clint insisted on dragging you outside after breakfast, despite your protests about the slight chill in the autumn air. The two of you spent hours tending to the garden, chasing a rogue chicken that had escaped its coop, and splitting logs for the fire pit. It wasn’t glamorous, but that was the point. It was simple, real, and yours.

By late afternoon, the sun was hanging low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the farm. Clint had convinced you to take a break on the porch swing, a thick blanket draped over both your laps. He leaned back, one arm around your shoulders, the other hand fiddling with a mug of cider.

“This,” Clint said, breaking the comfortable silence, “is what I miss the most when I’m away. Just being here with you. No explosions, no supervillains, no crazy missions. Just us.”

You smiled, leaning into his side. “You’re going to make me cry.”

“Don’t cry, babe. I’ll just have to kiss it all better, and that sounds like a lot of work,” he teased, though his lips were already pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

You turned to face him, eyes soft as you brushed a hand through his hair. “You know you’re a lot more than just Hawkeye to me, right? You’re my Clint. My husband. The guy who makes terrible pancakes and hogs the blanket at night.”

He smirked. “Terrible pancakes? You ate three of them this morning.”

“Details,” you replied with a grin, leaning up to kiss him. Clint melted into it, his hand coming up to cradle your face, the moment stretching out like a scene from a romance movie.

As the sky turned shades of pink and orange, Clint sighed contentedly, pulling you closer. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this life with you, but I’m not letting it go. Ever.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, your fingers intertwining with his. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go, either.” The two of you stayed on the porch swing long after the sun disappeared, wrapped in each other’s warmth, soaking up every second of Clint’s rare, perfect day off.

[saint-ajax]

lowkey

“I WISH TO SEE YOUR LOVELY SMILE.” Wanda had heard from the wonderful mind of her clandestine significant other who sat across her. She knew Wanda could read her mind or hear her thoughts, which is why she whispered little cheers for her. While the Secretary of State discussed the accords that half of the Avengers seemed to disagree with.

   She knows what Wanda's going through right now, and she wants nothing but to be there for her. Wanda forced a little smile for her to assure her she was fine. Before she looked away to read a book Ross had handed them. 

   She was solely focused on Wanda. She was watching how her expressions changed as she read the book before handing it to Natasha. She didn’t care about the material everyone was frowning on and passed it to Steve when he asked for it.

  “Everything okay? ” She asked Wanda in her mind. When Wanda looked at her, she met Wanda's gaze with worry. She subtly shook her head, indicating that she didn’t know.

   In a world where saving people could paint you as the hero and the enemy at the same time, where chaos and battles are the muse of the system, they could only find peace and order in each other’s company.

   Perhaps no one in the room truly knows what’s between the two of them. Perhaps it’s forbidden, or it may not be. But the holy truth is that they do not care for it. 

   To feel, to hold, to cry, and to laugh beside one another is all they care about. For as long as the world can only bring anything but unkind nature to them, they will always lean on and seek each other.

   The meeting was left with an indefinite answer, which Secretary Ross and the United Nations wished for them to create a smart and cooperative decision.

   Everyone was gathered in the living room. They were scattered around to discuss the proposal of leaders from different nations. Yet she was only worried that Wanda was blaming herself for an inevitable incident. 

   She sat in between Vision and Wanda. The atmosphere was getting heated the more the group dove into the conflict they were challenged to solve. Meanwhile, Wanda listened to what the veterans had to say, while her girlfriend was busy watching and playing with her slender hands. Entwining their fingers and placing them in between their thighs to hide them from everyone's view.

   Wanda was used to her gestures like this one, and so she wasn't fazed as she absorbed the points everyone had to point out. Finally, she was all caught up.

   “You're saying they'll come for me.” 

   “I wouldn't let them. I will protect you.” Wanda gazed at her as she squeezed her hand three times and gave her a reassuring smile.

   “We all will protect you.” Vision had commented on the side as they continued to exchange thoughts.

   She rubbed Wanda's hands with her thumb as they continued the discussion until Steve left. “I have to go.”

   Everyone followed after Steve to attend their respective errands. 

   The look Tony gave Wanda before asking Vision to talk in private did not escape her sight. They spent the whole afternoon in Wanda's room as she remained suspicious of it. Eventually, she had to chase Natasha to borrow a car for the late-night drive she planned. 

   “Nat?”

   “Yeah?”

   “Where are you going? ”

   “Attend a conference. Why? ”

   “Can I borrow a car? ”

   “Sure.” Natasha tossed her keys before leaving. 

   “Thanks.” She ran back upstairs to see Vision cooking and Wanda tasting it.

   “Spirit lifted.”

   She stood by the hall as she watched the two exchange laughter. Something inside her spiked and poked her, and it felt close to pain. And anger. She shook her head to get those thoughts out of her head before having the courage to steal their attention.

   “Hey, Wands, ready? ” 

   “Oh, yes. I'm sorry.” Wanda immediately went to her. Something about watching Vision frown upon Wanda coming to her instead of him was satisfying.

   “Apologies, but may I know where you're going? ” 

   None of your business. “Don't worry, Vis; I just want to show her something. We'll be quick.” She didn't even bother to hear what he had to say and carried Wanda away with her, hand in hand.

   Wanda didn't protest, and she let her drag her away. “I heard that,” she remarked.

   “Surprising.” She scoffed as she played with the keys.

   Wanda frowned at her attitude. “What's wrong, darling? ”She was supposed to ignore it, but Wanda made them stop walking and made her face her.

   “Talk to me properly. You're not letting me into your head. I can't understand.”

   “Nothing's wrong.” She avoided her gaze as she denied the truth.

   “I'm not asking again.” Wanda took her hand back harshly and crossed her arms. 

   “Fine. It's.. it's Vision..   and you.”

   “What's wrong with Vision and me? ”

   “Nothing! See? Nothing wrong. Let's go.”

   “Are you jealous? ”Wanda squinted at her when she finally put the puzzle pieces together.

   She puffed air as an act of dismissing her accusation. “No. I'm not.” Me? Jealous of a synthezoid? No way.

  “Darling, you are jealous . ” Wanda smiled to hide her laughter at her charming girl.

   She rolled her eyes. “Yeah? What if I am? ”

   “I like it. Even though you have nothing to be jealous of.”

   “I was trying all day to lift your mood, but with him, one paprika, and you're all giggling like a little girl,” she frowned. Now that she thought about it, it actually hurt.

   “Oh, baby, you have no idea how calm you've made me the entire day.” Wanda had cupped her face for her to directly look into her emerald eyes. “I have been on edge all day, and you've kept me sane.” And there it was; her lovely smile had finally shown up, and it was beautifully contagious.

   Wanda looking so pretty and smiling while staring into her eyes made her knees weak and her cheeks pink. “You have to stare at me like that? ”

   “Like what? ”

   “Like you want to kiss me.” Wanda let out a wholehearted laugh. It was a scene to behold. She watched the redhead with shiny eyes, appreciating her beauty when she smiled.

   “Oh, you know very well how to read my mind,” Wanda uttered before pulling her into a kiss that sent butterflies into her stomach.

   She received the kiss well and responded with the strong passion they both possess. Their lips were crashing in sync as their heads angled in a pattern while their hands roamed.

   “Oh, there you are—” They both stopped and looked at the owner of the voice, which interrupted them. It was Vision. “Oh...” He tilted his head as he studied what was happening. He blinked it away and proceeded to state his business. “I'm glad to catch both of you. I'm afraid you're not allowed to leave the building.”

   “Let me guess, Tony's orders? ”She said, making Wanda frown in confusion as she looked at her.

   “Correct,” Vision responded. 

   “That's not happening.” Another familiar voice came from the other side, and when they looked, they saw Clint. “Come on, kids, pack your bags. I'm here to pick you up.”

   “I'm afraid I can't let them go.” Vision begged to differ. 

   “Oh my god! What are you doing here? ”Wanda said in surprise.

   “Disappointing my kids.”

   “In whose orders, Clint? ”

   She questioned.

   “Captain. Cap needs our help. Come on.” She looked into Wanda's eyes to consult their plan. Wanda looked hesitant.

   “What's wrong? ”

   “I’ve caused enough problems.” She and Clint frowned at Wanda.

   “You gotta help me, Wanda. Look, you want to mope, can go to high school. You wanna make amends, you get off your ass. We gotta go.”

   “Come on, Wanda. It'll be okay.” The girl holding Wanda's hand and giving her assuring eyes and comfort was what helped to convince her.

   Wanda nods and lets her drag her along as they follow Clint. “Stop! Clint.. You should not be here.” Vision interrupts and Clint rolls his eyes.

   “Really? I retire for, what, like five minutes, and it all goes to shit.“

   “Please consider the consequences of your actions.” He started to elevate as he turned his guard on.

   “Okay.. they're considered.   Okay, we gotta go.” They immediately turned their backs on Vision while he was held back by a force field. It was sparkling and crackling between the two arrows. None of them had the time to notice when Clint had shot them.

   Just as they reach the exit, Vision catches up to them. As they were caught off guard, he punched Clint, but he quickly recovered. “I knew I should've stretched.” Clint groaned.

   He extended a baton in an attempt to hit Vision, but it was useless as the blows went through him. He resorts to punches and comes back to the baton until it breaks. Clint doesn't give up and tries to kick Vision, but as expected, his kicks pass through him. They ended up with Vision having Clint in a headlock. Completely naive about the existence of the two ladies.

   “Clint, you cannot overpower me.”

   He was still able to speak, but it was crooked. “I know I can't, but they can.”

   Vision's eyes found Wanda's glowing ruby orbs. “Vision.. That's enough; let him go.” As the energy from Wanda's hands falters Vision, Clint manages to slip from his grip.

   A yellow, sparkling circle opened beneath Vision caused by her. The body of water in the area of HQ was seen on the other side of the portal.

   “If you do this… they will never stop being afraid of you.”

   “The thing is... She cannot control their fear,” the sorcerer answers Vision.

   “Only my own.” Wanda buries Vision through the water and passes the ground, and her sorcerer closes the portal just in time for the water to not splash at them.

   She finds Wanda's eyes; their glow is starting to fade as she calms down. She walks over to her and holds her hand. “I'm proud of you,” she whispers as she touches her chin to make Wanda look at her.

   She managed to make Wanda smile lightly and entwine their fingers together. “Thank you.”

   “...Alright, what the hell is this? ”She and Wanda forgot about Clint and looked at him before chuckling lightly. “What has Nat been teaching you two? ”

   “Looking over my shoulder should be a second nature. And I’m starting to think she's right.” Wanda chuckled at her own remark of being caught in the moment and kept forgetting there were people with them.

   “So, you two? together? ”Clint asked to confirm.

   Both of the ladies chuckled as they held hands and followed Clint to the van.

   “Lowkey.”

[softspace-fics]

Could you write some hawkeye fluff pleaseee (no pressure)

💐 Take these for all your hard work

Bath time!

A/N - I really hope you like this anon!! This was such a cute idea in my head and I portrayed it as gender neutral as I can. Here's to my first post in October! More is absolutely coming! I love you all, thank you for your love and support recently.

Masterlist - all my work!

Warnings!⚠️ : Reader is being bathed! General fluff and cuteness, Baba Hawkeye (Clint Barton) x gn!little reader. Please read at your own discretion. Let me know if I missed anything!!

___________

The splashing of the water and the sound of your laugh echoed down the halls of tower as you happily played in the water of your newly drawn bath. Your caregiver sits quietly laughing at your antics of playing in the water. You had been his little for quite some time and he was always fond of how much you loved your time in the water.

“Baba look!” You happily wail out, showing him how your newly bought bathtoys were able to shoot water out. You may or may not have aimed it right at your baba.

“Yeah sweetheart i do see.” He quickly reaches for a towel, wiping up the water that has ended up on the walls outside the bathtub.

You laugh as he takes some bubbles and places them on your head, giving you the most bubbly hat in all the land. He kisses your nose before he stand up and grabs your hair washing cup off the counter.

“Okay sweetheart, can I have you put your head back for me? Lets get your hair washed and then you can continue to play.”

Your baba hands you a washcloth to cover your eyes just incase water spills over, although he still makes sure to hold his hand to your hairline just as a second measure aswell. His fingers scrub your head softly as he makes it all fluffy and foamy from the shampoo.

He carefully makes sure that your hair is all rinsed out before he threads the conditioner through your hair, kissing your forehead once its all in, letting you know you have five minutes of playtime before you rinse out your hair and get out of the bath.

You immediately go back to playing with your toys, squealing when hawkeye saves the day in your imaginary world, just like he saved you in your true world. He became your safe place on the days you needed him most, and he gave you a home when you didn’t have one.

The clock continues to tick by as your conditioner soaks in, and your playing is still as loud as ever. Your baba laughs as he watches you act out his major plays that hes either told you about or you’ve seen on the news after the avengers saved new york.

The timer goes off and Clint stands back up, he grabs your bin for your toys and holds it infront of you, letting you know its time to start to calm down and get ready to get out of the bath and ready for bed. Once all your super hero friends have gone off into their next mission, one you’ll surely make next bath, you tilt your head back and let your baba rise out the conditioner from your now cleaned hair.

He makes sure to help you clean your body aswell before he unplugs the drain and grabs a warmed towel. He helps you to stand up before he traps your body in a warm towel hug, drying you off aswell as putting you back in the safety of his arms.

You squeal as he picks you up and carries you to your shared room, and helps you to get comfortably changed into your favorite pajamas.

By the end of the night, your all wrapped up safely in your Baba’s arms, your favorite movie playing in the background, and your comfort items securely in your possession.

Your Baba makes sure to play with your hair and rub your back until your sound asleep, and then he joins you in dreamland, where you both make your own adventures. Together.

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (7 - Fix the Dead)

Chapter Summary: A conversation with Wanda about the twins’ rapid growth leaves you both struggling with guilt and loss. Clint’s attempt to contact you through a vintage radio ends in disaster, as Wanda tightens her hold on her fragile reality. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3.9k+ | Chapter Tags/Warnings: None

A/N: So, cat's out of the bag--Reader is actually alive. Three more chapters until we close part 1! // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Please, talk to me.”

You look over your shoulder. You've been pretending to sleep for almost an hour now, and just when you thought Wanda had drifted off and you could sneak out to spend some time alone with a book in the living room, she surprises you.

With a soft sigh, you turn to face her. The sight that greets you instantly breaks your heart. Even in the darkness, with only a sliver of blue moonlight seeping through the window to illuminate her face, you can see her lonely, anxious expression.

“What is there to talk about?” you whisper back.

Wanda reaches out to touch your hand, but you pull it back slightly. “I can feel your sadness,” she murmurs. “Is something wrong?”

You take a deep breath, burying half of your face in the pillow, your throat tightens and your eyes begin to sting at her simple inquiry into your well-being. You want to remain silent, but you know you can't—and shouldn't—hide your feelings from Wanda. Your efforts are superfluous anyway, she always has a way of seeing right through you.

You give a small nod, unable to voice out more.

Wanda sits up slightly, propping herself on one elbow. She knows it’s only a matter of time before the doubt and fear catches up to you. “Did I do something?” she asks softly.

You bite your lower lip, struggling to hold back the feelings swelling up inside you like a dam ready to burst. “It's the boys,” you finally say.

Her disarming green eyes search yours earnestly. “What about them?”

You sit up fully, pulling the blanket around your shoulders. “They're growing up too fast, Wanda. One moment they're babies—I’ve barely held them—and the next they're ten years old. I feel like we're missing out on so much.”

Wanda swallows hard. The twins’ childhood has lasted barely a week. Having lost her own childhood at a very young age, she knows the pain of missing out, and she desperately wants her children to experience a proper childhood. But here in Westview, Wanda has learned to look on the brighter side of things. At least you both have Tommy and Billy; you're a complete family. They're happy with who they are and what you have together as a family. At least you're here with her, raising them, no matter how short the time given to both of you.

She reaches for your hand again, and this time you let her hold it. “They're just exploring their abilities,” she says, repeating the assurances she's been telling herself. “You know how kids are…”

You don’t look entirely convinced by that, so Wanda sits up too, tightens her grip on your hand. “They're special. You know that their abilities make them different,” she points out.

“Different doesn't mean we have to skip their entire childhood,” you reply bitterly. “I didn't get to see their first steps, hear them say ‘Mama’ for the first time. Those moments are gone, and I can't get them back.”

Beside you, she tenses. You don’t need to look to know she understands—she wasn’t there for those moments with the boys either.

“Doesn't it bother you?” you ask. “Even a little?”

Wanda glances away for a second, quickly blinking back any sign of weakness before she looks at you again. “It does. But I've been so focused on keeping everything together that I didn't stop to think about what we might be losing.”

You take a deep, shaky breath, feeling bad for thinking Wanda didn’t care. She just seems so… tolerant of it all.

“I’m sorry,” you say, scooting closer and wrapping your arms around her. “I bet you wanted those milestones just as much as I do. Just…forget I said anything.”

Wanda leans into your embrace. “No, you’re right to bring it up. They’re missing out on so many things, too.”

“How can we fix this? Can we even fix it?” you ask.

Wanda understands it’s not about whether she can intervene—it’s about whether she should. She could easily use her powers to stop the boys from skipping ahead. But it’s the ethics of it that she’s wrestling with ever since she did it to you. 

“Maybe next time, I could… ensure things go differently?” she suggests carefully. 

The implication of her words doesn’t go over your head. “Wanda, we can’t do that,” you tell her softly. “I... I don’t think we should do anything without their consent, even if we think it’s for the best.”

Wanda pulls back in shame. “You’re right. I’ve been making too many decisions for everyone.”

You gently hold her cheek, making her look at you. “It's okay, Wanda.”

She fights the urge to disagree, to shake her head and confess that it's not okay. She's made these choices for you too many times, and it’s clearer now than ever how much she’s overstepped, compromising your privacy and trust.

“Maybe we can talk to them?” you suggest, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“You think they’ll listen?”

You offer her a sleepy, crooked smile. “I hope so,” you say. “But even if they don't, we'll be there for them, whatever they choose.”

You gently coax her to lie back down, and Wanda instinctively pulls your head to her chest, letting you rest your head against her. This time, you drift off quickly, soothed by the steady beat of her heart into a deep and dreamless sleep.

–

“Why keep it a secret?” Monica demands though not unkindly. She can’t wrap her head around why you’d choose to disappear and fake your own death, especially now that Wanda is back from the Snap. While it's undoubtedly a relief to learn that someone isn't dead, Monica can't help but feel disappointed by this turn of events.

All this time, they believed they could persuade Wanda to abandon her fantasy in Westview. But now, with everything she desires apparently right here, why would she ever choose to leave?

And more importantly, how would she ever allow any of them to leave?

“Also, how do we know you’re not lying again?” Darcy adds quickly.

Clint raises a hand to calm the room, nodding toward the television where you just appeared, very much alive. “Clearly, there's evidence that she's there,” he says calmly, pointing out the obvious. “Living and breathing just like the rest of us.”

Everyone quiets down, accepting his point. It checks off one of the many questions they've had since this whole thing started.

“She wanted it this way,” Clint then tells Monica, in response to her question earlier. “Believe me, it hit the kid hard, watching Wanda turn to ashes right before her eyes... I lost my family that day too. But at least I was spared from seeing it happen.”

Monica can only imagine what it was like. She was snapped away, but she counts herself lucky she wasn’t one of those left behind to endure the absence.

“Does Y/N know that Wanda returned from the Snap?” Darcy asks.

“Yeah,” Clint says. Everyone looks at him, expecting more, but it’s clear he meant to keep his answer short and sweet.

Jimmy taps his pen against his notepad. “So how did Wanda find her?”

“That's the million-dollar question,” Clint says, glancing back at the screen now showing only static. “Last I heard from Y/N was about five months ago. She settled in Reykjavik. Wanted to live a quiet life.”

Monica crosses her arms, the gears in her head haven't stopped turning since finding out you’re really alive. “And now she's in Westview, starring in Wanda's show?”

“Doesn't add up,” Clint agrees. “Y/N was determined to stay hidden.”

“Maybe Wanda found out Y/N was alive and pulled her into this reality she made,” Darcy says.

“Or perhaps Y/N reached out to Wanda,” Jimmy suggests.

“She wouldn’t,” Clint counters gruffly, dismissing the idea outright. After a second, he adds, “And if Y/N didn't want to be found, she wouldn’t be. She was always skilled at vanishing.”

Monica thinks it over. “But Wanda's powers have grown exponentially. Maybe she picked up on Y/N’s presence somehow.”

“Still doesn't explain why Y/N would play along,” Clint counters. “I know her. She wouldn’t agree to this.”

Darcy shrugs. “Unless she’s being controlled by Wanda.”

Clint clenches his jaw. “Y/N's strong-minded. It'd take a lot to manipulate her. Besides, Wanda wouldn’t do that to her.”

“Clearly,” Darcy scoffs. Clint’s lips press into a thin line, struggling to hold back a retort to that.

Jimmy flips through his notes. “From what we've observed, she seems... compliant. But there are moments where she looks almost aware.”

“You noticed that from the show?” Clint asks.

“Not from the show,” Monica clarifies, standing up. “From me.”

Clint gives her a puzzled look.

“Oh, I forgot to mention—I’ve been inside the Hex.”

“You were there? How did you manage to get out?” Clint asks, both horrified and a little impressed.

Monica sighs. “I mentioned something that referenced the real world. Wanda didn't like it. She literally threw me out of town.”

Clint runs a hand through his hair, processing this new information. “So, she really is controlling everything in there, and anyone who challenges that gets expelled?”

“Exactly,” Monica nods. “And now that we’ve found out that the real Y/N is in there with her, it looks like Wanda’s got everything she wants. That throws a wrench in our plans.”

Clint rubs his chin thoughtfully. “And your plan was to...?”

“To...” Monica trails off, suddenly realizing how naive it sounds. “...talk her out of it.”

Clint furrows his brow and lets out a noncommittal “Hmmm.”

“I know how it sounds,” Monica says, a hint of color rising in her cheeks. “But I thought if I could just reach her, reason with her, maybe I could get through. I've lost people too—”

“We all have,” Clint replies. “Though maybe not to the extent she has.”

“Parents, brother, best friend, lover...” Darcy ticks off Wanda’s losses on her fingers. “That's pretty much every key relationship in a person's life.”

“So, what do you suggest we do?” Jimmy asks, turning to Clint, who looks like he’s been hit with a freight train over the last five minutes. Overwhelmed would be an understatement—he probably needs an Advil after this conversation.

Clint exhales sharply, mulling it over while the others watch him, waiting.

“I'm usually a man of action,” he says slowly, “but sometimes it's better to try talking before jumping into a fight. Only, I don't think it's Wanda we should be trying to reach out to.”

“Then who?” Monica asks.

Clint licks his lips. “Y/N.”

–

“Where’s Sparky?”

It's odd to see the boys without their four-legged companion ever since they adopted him. He's been their whole world lately, and even Wanda spends her breaks between chores playing with the puppy. 

Billy and Tommy exchange uneasy glances. “He... ran out the front door,” Billy says, his voice papery-thin.

“What do you mean he ran out?”

“We tried to catch him, but he was too fast,” Tommy reasons.

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your frustration in check. “Guys, you can't just let your pet run off like that. What if he'd been hit by a car? I'm… I’m really disappointed.”

“We’re sorry,” they mumble, eyes fixed on the floor.

“This is why I asked you boys to wait,” you say gently. “Maturity doesn’t just come from aging yourselves up—it takes time and experience. Do you understand why that matters now?”

They nod, a little slower this time. “We understand,” Billy says quietly.

“Alright,” you sigh, unable to stay upset for long. “Let’s go find Sparky. He couldn’t have gotten far.”

The three of you set out into the neighborhood, calling Sparky's name. It's around four in the afternoon, with about two hours of daylight left—plenty of time to search. After half an hour of knocking on doors and showing neighbors pictures of the scruffy Jack Russell, you begin to worry that finding him might require a more extensive search. The boys look really upset, and you feel guilty about reprimanding them earlier, even though you knew you had to be honest about their oversight. Just as you're about to suggest checking the park behind the townsquare, Agnes appears behind the bushes on her lawn, cradling something in her arms.

“Agnes?” you call out, a sick swirl of hope and dread twisting in your stomach.

“I…” Agnes approaches slowly, her face somber. Even before she gets close, you can already tell that whatever she’s carrying is limp and motionless. “I didn’t wanna come until I’d wrapped him up…”

Wanda pulls up just then, fresh from the grocery store. She’s barely out of the car when she notices you and the boys, your somber expressions stopping her in her tracks. She hurries over and follows your gaze. “What's that?” Wanda asks.

“Found him in my azalea bushes,” Agnes says, sidestepping the question. You glance at the twins, your heart sinking at the sight of their scared, regretful faces.

“I don’t know how many leaves he ate,” Agnes continues, her voice dropping even lower. “I didn’t find him until it was too late. Tommy, Billy, I’m so sorry.”

The brothers break forward. “No! Sparky!” they cry, tears streaming down their faces.

Your eyes sting as you pull them close. “I’m so sorry, guys,” you whisper, holding them tightly. They cling to you, their tear-soaked faces pressed against your shirt, and for a moment, the world feels still. But a moment later, they pull back, exchanging a glance—a silent conversation you’ve come to recognize all too well.

“Wait,” you say in panic, quickly stepping between them, as if the act alone could stop whatever plan is forming in their heads. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Boys, stop,” Wanda says, kneeling down to their level. “The urge to run from this feeling is powerful. But growing up isn't the way to avoid getting hurt. It…it teaches you to face it, feel it…learn from it. Trust me, I know.”

Billy wipes his eyes. “But it's too sad,” he whispers.

“I—”

Tommy, unlike his brother, has fire in his eyes. “You can fix anything, Mom. Fix the dead,” he pleads.

“You can do that?” comes Agnes’ voice behind her. 

You turn to your wife, who seems struck silent by Tommy's request. You know Wanda is powerful, her abilities growing stronger by the day, but reversing the natural order of things—that feels impossible and wrong.

“Some things can't—and shouldn't—be fixed,” you say, looking from one twin to the other. “Some things are final.”

“It's not fair,” Billy mumbles, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

You swallow hard. “I know. But maybe we can give Sparky a proper goodbye.” Agnes takes that as her cue to hand Sparky back to the boys. Wanda stands a few steps away, her face unreadable. The twins clutch the dog tightly, tears streaming down their cheeks.

You reach out toward your wife. “Honey—”

But Wanda steps further back, her eyes avoiding yours. “I... I need to start dinner,” she mutters, turning away before you can say more.

“Wait, can we—” you start, but Wanda’s already turning away, disappearing into the house.

–

The boys try to skip dinner, claiming they're not hungry, so you play your ace and order pizza, knowing they can't say no to that. Wanda just gives you a wary look and announces she's heading to bed early. You make a point of eating a good portion of Wanda’s dinner—not just to avoid waste but because you genuinely enjoy her cooking—before you tuck the boys in for the night.

After making sure they're settled, you decide to check on Wanda. You find her in your bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed staring out the window.

“Wanda?” you say softly.

She doesn't turn. “Are the boys okay?” she asks quietly.

“They're handling it,” you reply, approaching the bed. “They needed you.”

She sighs, shoulders slumping. “I couldn't... I didn't know what to say.”

“You don’t have to fix everything,” you say softly, sitting beside her. Your hand rests on her shin, fingers starting to massage in slow, soothing circles. “Sometimes just being there is enough.”

When she finally looks at you, your breath catches. Her eyes are swollen, red from crying. You reach for her hand, but she keeps it clenched in her lap. “I feel like I’m letting them down. Letting you down,” Wanda says quietly.

“Are you kidding? You’re an amazing mom to our boys. And the best wife I could ever ask for.”

She scrunches her nose, clearly struggling to accept your words. You smile, finding it endearing how shy she still gets whenever you compliment her.

“Thank you,” she whispers, lacing your fingers together before kissing the back of your hand.

“Have you eaten anything?” you ask.

Wanda shakes her head. “Not really.”

“Well, let's fix that,” you say, standing up, pulling her with you. “Come downstairs with me.”

“But you've already had dinner,” Wanda says.

You smile. “There's always room for dessert.”

–

Darcy practically jumps out of her seat, pointing excitedly at the screen. “That's our shot!”

Monica, Jimmy, and Clint look up from the reports scattered across the table, their brows furrowed in confusion. Hayward’s team is still stuck, unable to figure out how to get equipment through the barrier without it being warped into something unrecognizable. The working theory is that anything era-appropriate to Wanda’s “show” might make it through intact.

“A shot at what?” Jimmy asks.

“Reaching Y/N through Wanda's kitchen radio!” Darcy exclaims, already grabbing her coat. The others scramble to follow her outside to where her equipment is set up, ready to put their old theory to the test. 

Darcy starts adjusting the dials on a makeshift transmitter hooked up to a vintage-looking radio. “If we can sync up with the frequency of the broadcast, we might be able to get a message through,” she reminds them, her breath forming clouds in the cold.

Clint eyes the gadgets cluttering the back of the truck. “Is this really going to work?”

Darcy smirks. “Well, considering traditional methods aren't exactly panning out, it's worth a try.”

“Someone should keep an eye on things from the inside,” Monica surmises.

“I'll head back and keep watch,” Jimmy volunteers, already walking back to the tent. “I’ll radio in if it works.”

Monica turns to Clint with a thoughtful expression. “Who do you think should try talking to Y/N?”

“I'll give it a try,” he says. “Maybe hearing a familiar voice will help snap her out of it.”

Monica nods. “Good idea. She trusts you.”

Darcy comes up to them with the transmitter. “Alright, it's ready to go. Just press this button when you're ready to speak,” she instructs, handing the device to Clint.

Monica grabs her radio and contacts Jimmy. “Agent Woo, what's the situation inside?”

“Wanda is sitting at the dining table. Y/N is alone in the kitchen, looks like she's preparing dinner.”

“Thanks,” Monica smiles slightly. “Perfect timing. She's alone—we can reach her now.”

Clint nods, stepping closer to the microphone. “Here goes nothing,” he mutters. He presses the button and speaks into the microphone. “Y/N, it's Clint. Can you hear me?”

–

You’re pouring two glasses of wine, waiting for dinner to finish heating, when the old radio by the sink crackles to life.

“Y/N, it's Clint. Can you hear me?”

You freeze, hand hovering over the glass. The voice is faint, broken, but you heard your name. 

And his.

Clint? Why does that sound so familiar?

You glance at the radio, its dial unmoved. Adjusting the antenna slightly, you try to wait for another message to come through, but only static follows. You resume what you’re doing, only for the radio to speak again—directly to you, it seems.

“Jesus, Y/N, wake up! Come on!”

Your hand trembles violently, forcing you to set the wine bottle down before it slips from your grasp.

Heart pounding, you stare at the radio. “Hello?” you whisper, not really sure you believe what's happening. It feels like a dream. Other than your wife, who could even make a radio do this? 

And why would they need to talk to you?

“Finally! We've been trying to reach you. Listen, you have to—”

Before he can finish, a sharp burst of static erupts. The radio sparks violently and explodes right in front of you. You barely have time to shield yourself as fragments fly past, one slicing across your cheek. Wincing, you touch your face and your fingers come away smeared with blood.

“What was that?” Wanda's voice calls from the other room. You can hear her hurried footsteps approaching, but you can’t seem to move or say anything, too shocked to respond.

She appears in the doorway, eyes widening as she sees the blood on your cheek and the smoking wreckage of the radio. 

“You're hurt!”

In a flash, she’s on you, her hands checking your face, her thumb brushing near the cut. She tries to wipe away the blood, but it keeps coming, stubborn and unrelenting.

“I-It's nothing…”

“We need to clean this up,” she says, too calm, like it’s normal to find you bleeding after a radio exploded.

“I'm fine, really,” you insist weakly, but she’s already fetching a cloth and pressing it against your wound.

As she tends to you, her eyes dart quickly to the destroyed radio. “These old things can be so dangerous,” she murmurs.

“Yeah…” 

Someone named Clint had tried to reach you. Who is he? And why did the radio explode? There are too many questions swimming in your head, overwhelming enough to numb the sting of your wound.

“You're shaking,” Wanda notes softly. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“Maybe,” you concede, allowing her to guide you to a chair.

She kneels in front of you, dabbing gently at your cheek. “It's not deep. You'll be okay.”

“Thanks,” you mumble absently. 

Wanda purses her lips. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You’re quiet for a second, unsure if you should tell Wanda what just happened or ask her about Clint. But something inside holds you back.

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching for her hand as she tends to your wound, and lightly kissing her palm. “Promise.”

–

Jimmy stares at the screen, where the words “We'll be right back!” are now plastered, replacing the live feed. The broadcast had cut out the moment you answered Clint's call with a hesitant hello. He runs outside, where Clint, Monica, and Darcy are huddled around the equipment. The cool air bites at his cheeks, but he barely notices.

“The broadcast’s down,” Jimmy says, slightly winded. “The second Y/N responded to the radio, it switched to a standby screen.”

Clint's hand falls away from the microphone. He knew it was a long shot with Wanda just a room away. “Now she knows we're trying to make contact,” he remarks grimly. “I’m sure Wanda will find a way to block any future transmissions from here out.”

Darcy doesn’t look up, her fingers flying over her tablet. She curses under her breath, scowling at the screen. “Yeah, looks like she’s already on it,” she mutters.

Monica rubs her hands together, exhaling into them for warmth. “Alright, clearly this isn’t working. We need a new plan.”

“Uh, guys…?” Darcy cuts in, looking around. “Is it just me, or does it seem way emptier out here tonight?”

Everyone stops, taking in their surroundings. Sure enough, the area is quieter than usual—just a couple of guards lingering near the barrier and not much else.

Jimmy crosses his arms, his eyes fixed on the tent serving as a Command Center. “Either everyone’s on break at the same time, or Hayward’s pulled them all into a meeting.”

They exchange uneasy glances, the same thought running through their heads. What’s this meeting about—and why does it feel like they’ve been deliberately left out?

[ily-fictional-women]

Christmas Blues

Summary: Kate’s feeling down but Y/n is gonna do her best to fix that.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x fem!reader

Warnings: None that I know of but if I should add anything let me know

Word count: 1501

a/n: Just something for the Holiday season! (Reblogs are welcome and critiques/advice are heavily encouraged, but please no translating.)

With it being the Christmas season Kate and Y/n agreed to have a small date night at Kate’s apartment watching a Christmas movie while cozying up together. Although during the movie the two sit beside each other one of Y/n’s hands on the back of Kate’s head playing with her hair. Typical Kate is one to talk throughout a movie this time she’s quiet, too quiet.

Turing just slightly Y/n looks over at Kate, there’s not even a slight grin on her face. Y/n moves her hand from the back of the girl's head down to the back of her neck, “Hey.” Kate snaps her attention at the sudden change, “Yeah?” Biting the inside of her cheek Y/n tries to find the right words for the moment, “Katie, are you okay? Where’s your head at?”

“What do you mean?” Kate shifts in her seat at the question. Y/n pauses the movie putting her full attention on Kate, “Look, I’ve known and loved you for a while. So I’d like to think I know when you’re stuck in your head. You don’t have to tell her anything but if you want to tell me I wanna know.”

Kate shrugs nervously, “I guess it’s just the Christmas season. Ever since the whole Fisk thing and the thing with my mom going away, it feels like the Holiday season is just a reminder of all the bad instead of the good.” Y/n starts lightly drawing shapes into the back of Kate's neck trying to think of any kind of solution, “Is it being in New York that’s a reminder of it or is it just a feeling in general?”

Kate rests a hand on Y/n’s thigh trying to distract herself from how she was feeling, “Probably a mix of both. But I think being her plays a big part in it. Why?” Y/n shakes her head nonchalantly, “Just trying to figure out how you’re feeling.” As the moment settles down and the movie’s unpaused Y/n interrupts again.

“Do you have any hot cocoa powder?” Kate’s brows furrow for a moment, “No. I don’t think so at least did you want some or something?” Y/n quickly gets up putting a coat on, “Yeah I was thinking of having some. I’ll go out and pick up enough for the both of us.” Both Kate and Lucky turn their heads as Y/n goes for the door. “Did you want me to come with you?” Y/n smiles shaking her head at the question, “No don’t worry. I want you to relax.”

Y/n was going out to get hot cocoa mix but there was also another plan. Making it out of the apartment building Y/n pulls out her phone calling the only person she knew could probably help. “Hey, Clint can we talk?”

There’s some murmurs in the background of the call but they slowly get quieter, “Hey, yeah, Y/n what’s up?”

“It’s Kate, Clint, I’m worried about her. She doesn’t seem like herself. She was talking about how all the Fisk stuff and her mom being locked up was getting to her. But she said it mostly tied to being in New York so I was wondering if we could come over for a little. Mostly so I could see if it would cheer her up.”

“I mean yeah that shouldn’t be a problem I’ma just ask Laura first.” For about two minutes Clint is obviously on mute leaving Y/n standing in the New York snow. The sudden loud background noise shocks Y/n from the cold though, “Okay, Laura said it’s alright. Are you guys gonna be here tomorrow or later?”

“Tomorrow works just fine I’ll get her to pack up tonight.” Right before Y/n’s about to hang up there’s some loud murmuring in the background before she hears Clint’s voice again, “Oh uh Lila said to to pack ugly sweaters. We’re having a contest and Nate is judging.”

“Will do Clint.”

//

Getting back to the apartment Y/n quickly brushes off the excess snow on her coat before hanging it up the small bag of hot cocoa powder in hand. Heating some milk Y/n flops on the couch with Kate, “Soooo. You’re gonna need to pack a bag.” Kate raises an eyebrow cracking a nervous grin, “Why do I need to pack a bag exactly?”

“We're going on a trip to get out of here. You’ll like it I promise.” The confidence in Y/n’s demeanor was just enough to convince Kate to go pack a bag. “Oh wait,” Y/n stops her before she can get too far. “You’re gonna need to pack an ugly sweater.”

//

DAY 1 Making it to the Barton home Kate has a tight grip on Lucky’s leash, or that it is until Clint opens the door to the house bolting in to play with the kids. “Hey, Clint.” Kate opens up her arms to a hug from the older man. Clint looks at the two of you up and down noticing the ugly sweaters. “I see you both dressed up for today.” He examines both sweaters closely, “No offense Y/n but Kate is definitely winning the ugly sweater contest today.”

Y/n looks at the man genuinely shocked, “How?! Mine has Shrek and you said Nate was judging.” Clint looks over at both sweaters again, “No yeah Kate definitely wins. The owl’s eyes are so beady it creeps me out.” Kate smirks to herself, “That’s not the worst of it.” Clicking a button on one of the sleeves of the sweater the eyes of the owl begin to light up.

Letting out the most dad laugh possible Clint looks back at Y/n’s sweater, “Y/n I bet $5 Nate will pick Kate's sweater over your's." Y/n puts out her hand shaking Clint's taking the offer, “You’re on old man. It'll be your Christmas gift to me." Ignoring the old man comment Clint invites the two in to begin the ugly sweater contest.

DAY 1 (NIGHT) Y/n scans the dark living room, “Where are the kids and Laura?” Kate readjusts the blanket she has wrapped around herself sitting in front of the fireplace. “They all went to bed, how was the whole wood-chopping thing with Clint?” Y/n tosses a fresh piece of wood into the fireplace, “Surprisingly boring. Did you guys do anything?”

“We mostly just played some small games Laura found online. But what I want right now is for you to sit with me.” Kate stretches out her arms like a kid wanting to be picked up. Sitting down with Kate Y/n admires the fire for a moment turning over to Kate. “Have you had fun so far?”

Kate’s gaze stays on the fire watching it crackle and burn, “Actually, yeah. I have. I still don’t think it’s fair you won the ugly Christmas sweater contest though.” Y/n fake coughs quietly murmuring, “Sore loser.” Kate quickly flops on top of Y/n with a playful smile, “What did you just say?”

Y/n looked around the room pretending to try and find the answer as she moved her hands to Kate’s hips to make sure she didn’t fall off the couch. “Hmm, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t say anything! I swear.” Kate leans in a little closer to Y/n’s face, “Really? Because I could have sworn you called me a sore loser.”

Y/n lets out a loud sarcastic gasp, “Me?! I would never!” Kate looks at her questioningly, “Really now?” Y/n smiles cockily, “Nope never! Now how about you lean in just a little bit closer and kiss me so we can go to bed?” Giggling into a kiss Kate agrees ending a blissful night.

DAY 3 (NIGHT) With yesterday being an almost full day of baking cookies everyone was still fairly tired, especially being tired of taking orders from Laura in the kitchen. Because of this, everyone agreed today would be the Christmas movie marathon. First, it started with some of the classics.

You had The Grinch, Home Alone, A Christmas Carol, and so much more. The best part was probably the kids' commentary though Kate especially found it funny that quote “Captain America looked so much like the boy from A Christmas Story”.

Throughout the night it was obvious Kate was becoming happier and happier, especially compared to how she had been feeling before the trip. It was hard for Y/n to not stare at Kate being happy again. It was like she could see a light through her smiles and laugh. A light she hadn’t seen in a while.

Kate leans over to Y/n still intently watching the movie, “Thank you for this trip. I love it. And I love you.” Y/n smiles softly, “I love you most.” This, this moment. It was the only Christmas gift Y/n needed.

[olsenmyolsen]

This Is Me Trying - (A Y/N Parker Spider-Woman X Kate Bishop Story) Masterlist

Intro

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

[donaweasley]

The Unsaid Things

Pairing: Clint Barton x Fem!Reader

Plot:

The years, and especially the war, have taken a heavy emotional toll on everyone. But through everything, you’ve always had your friend by your side. Will the changing times bring a change in your relationship, too?

P.S.: Laura and family never happened. Clint is very much single. 😌

Warnings: Angst, Passing mention of a character’s death, Sm.u.t

💔💜🔥

Read time: ~29 mins

Minors!!!! Do NOT interact!! 🫣 🤨

You both had talked about retirement, about that fantasy land of peace several times. Clint had even announced his retirement once, twice … what was it … four times now? But every time he thought he could live without getting into the mess of the world, he got dragged into one.

Another mission.

That’s where Clint and you found yourselves on an otherwise beautiful Sunday evening. It was one of those nasty ones that always left scars - not just on the skin but also on the soul. Thankfully, you were provided backup by the government; a rare event but so was the task at hand.

You both fought, saved, killed, retrieved the necessary information and the assets you were asked to retrieve. You witnessed people die - both good and bad ones. You watched in horror as both of you made close calls with death; more than just once.

When you returned from the field, you both unwillingly brought the weight and the stench of the battle on your backs. The aftermath of such missions never washed away easily, no matter how many minutes or hours you spent in the shower, no matter how loud you played your favourite music or who you hung out with or how many drinks you downed. And with the Avengers disbanded, there were not many left for you to share your thoughts with. 

Clint had always been steady in his friendship with you. After Natasha, you were, undoubtedly, his most precious human. But when Natasha was gone, it had momentarily left a gaping hole in your relationship. He could not get out of his guilt and you did not want to push him into anything. Days after days, you had watched him stare at the void. You knew what was going on in his mind: different scenarios of the day on Vormir, wishing that he had done things differently, wishing that he had somehow put in more effort. Maybe then - maybe - she would have been here in his place. Maybe.

You had watched him torture himself for days, spiraling into despair, secluding himself from everyone, even from you, until one day you decided to breach the threshold that he had built around himself. Clint was lost in thoughts, like always. He was startled when you had walked up from behind, and wrapped your arms around his sitting form. He had fumbled for excuses to leave your embrace, lying that he had to go somewhere, that he was not in the mood for any of it. Your grip was tight, and he did not have the strength in him to push your arms away. And when you did not yield, when you did not leave him but had whispered in his ear, “Clint, please! Come back to us. We need you. I need you!” he had shattered. Turning around on the bench, he had wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and sobbed into your chest. You used to think that it was painful watching him fade away. You realised then and there that you were wrong. Watching him sob like a child, feeling him tremble under your touch was perhaps the most excruciating thing you had felt after the departure of your friends. It felt as though his sufferings were entwined with your own.

That was two years ago.

But since that afternoon, you had slowly watched him return to you. The Clint Barton that you used to know was resurfacing. Slowly but steadily. Of course, there were pieces of him that were lost to time forever. But then you all had lost parts of yourself in the war; parts that you’d probably never get back. But that did not mean that there was no room for the famous Clint-humour that you loved or the wrinkles around his eyes when he laughed. They were all coming back gradually, along with a newfound side to your friendship.

It was difficult to put a name to it but it felt warmer, the bond felt stronger and the understanding deeper. Unsaid things found a new, comfortable place between the two of you. Though no one could fill the void that Natasha and the others had left in their wake, you knew that this - whatever this strange bond was - was enough to fill the void that had once been burnt into your soul.

So, that night when you had taken shelter in the allocated safehouse, neither of you played any music nor did you strike up a conversation. You were exhausted - more in the mind than in the body. You both let the quiet take over, let the unsaid things do the talking.

After a quick shower, some bandages, and after discarding your battlesuit for your black tank top and underwear, you let your body drop down on the bed, too exhausted to climb it gracefully and get under the covers. Clint was in the other room. The safehouse wasn’t much but it saw to your basic needs: first aid, food, a hot shower and some clean towels, and two decent beds to drain the fatigue. It was a small flat in the midst of the town, rumoured (as spread by S.H.I.E.L.D) to be more like a pit stop for the owner who sometimes had work on that side of the town. So, though many eyes turned when two unknown figures in casual black clothes - one holding a large gym bag and another carrying a backpack - walked up the stairs, nobody made an effort to recognise the faces.

It was a humid night. Lying on top of the comforter, on the second floor of the building, you allowed the sound of the streets below to drown you. In the noise of the traffic and the market and the crowds, you tried to find some normality that had otherwise gone missing in your life. Minutes went by. And yet all that flashed on the curtains of your closed eyes were the harrowing moments of the day’s battle. Those eventually morphed into the wars of the past. The dying soldiers today got replaced by the pale, lifeless bodies of your friends who were no longer with you. Of those who were still there with you. Of Clint.

Your eyes snapped open. The ceiling was staring back at you. The constant rotating of the fan above and the whir of its motor seemed to mock you. Everything seemed to have a rhythm, a steadiness in their being. But you? All you were left with were bits and pieces of the moments that you had once shared with those you loved.

Sitting up, you ran a hand through the damp hair. No, you could not do this alone. Grabbing your pillow in one hand, you silently walked towards the archer’s room.

The door to his room was ajar. Clint was lying on his side, with his back turned towards you, the comforter rising up to his bare torso. He was looking all warm and comfortable. So much that the anxiety in your eyes was immediately replaced by a softness at the sight. He always did this to you - made you feel grounded even when the world around you was burning to ashes.

You were about to knock when you noticed the slow, steady pace with which his arm and shoulder rose and fell. Even after all these years, it still surprised you how fast he could fall asleep! The first feeling that kicked within you was that of frustration. Now you were doomed to bear the burden of your thoughts alone. All through the long night. But then, a small smile tugged at your lips when you saw the peace that engulfed him. After the war, it had become a rare sight to see Clint so peaceful, cocooned from his PTSD that often kept him up at night.

You had turned halfway to return to the torment in your room when you heard Clint softly call your name. You turned to see him almost on his back, craning his neck to look at you.

“I thought you were asleep,” you declared.

“I was. Almost.”

“Then how the hell did you know that I was here?” A small smile played on your lips since you already knew the answer.

The same knowing smile settled on his mouth, too. “Just like I do every time! You’re not as stealthy as you think you are.”

“And people think you are deaf!” You rolled your eyes playfully while taking a few slow steps into the room.

His room was much cooler than yours, thanks to the large windows that allowed cross-ventilation.

Clint was lying on his back now. “Not deaf! Hard of hearing! How many times do I have to make myself clear?”

“As many times as I want you to, Barton. Now, shut up and make room for me.” You threw the pillow at his face but he caught it in time.

“Why, did they hide bedbugs in yours?” He joked as you climbed under the cool comforter.

“I believe they had intended it for you but, accidentally,” you sighed dramatically, “I got the room.”

Clint laughed as he turned to face you.

“The same pattern?” His tone was serious now.

“Huh?”

“Your nightmares,” Clint clarified.

Your smirk was quickly replaced by a frown. “Yep,” you whispered your confession. “Tried but couldn't sleep at all!”

“Me neither.”

“I thought you were almost asleep,” you raised a playful brow.

“Was pretending to! Thought my body couldn’t tell the difference if I lay still.”

Clint’s smile grew larger when you shook with laughter. His eyes, adorned with creases from the weight of the years, took in your sight as though it was the last bit of peace, the last bit of sanity that was left in his life.

“I love you, Barton,” you said between dying laughs, as you had said uncountable times before.

“You know I love you, too,” he replied, just like he had innumerous times before.

Leaning forward, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead before beginning to get off the bed. He was clad only in his boxer briefs. Black. Somehow you knew it’d be black. Both of you had an inclination towards an all-black-clothing when it came to fights. ‘A weird kink’, Natasha used to call it.

“You know you can share the bed, right? Don’t have to sleep on the floor!” You called out with a grin spread on your face.

“Yeah, yeah!” he waved dismissively as he sauntered towards the washroom. “And stop staring at my ass.”

“There is nothing to stare at, old man. I’ve seen better.”

“Whose, Bucky’s?” You did not need to see his face to know that he was smirking. Bucky had been his favourite topic to tease you ever since you had confided in him that you had a crush on the super soldier. That was a long, long time ago.

“Nope. Mine,” you tilted your chin up as this time you owned the smirk.

Clint peeked at you in defeat before closing the door. He did have a nice ass though, now that you thought about it. You shook your head quickly before your imagination drifted away beyond what was appropriate.

Your thoughts went back to Natasha. Nat! Oh, how she used to tease the two of you! How she would have teased had she seen that you were sharing a bed! And dressed only in the bare minimum! Nat!

A silent laugh left your mouth and touched your eyes.

You lay on your back, staring at the ceiling and the rotating fan. It did not mock you this time. This time when you closed your eyes, you did not see red. You did not see any meadow either but it was fine. It was … normal.

A couple of minutes later, you felt the bed dip beside you. You must have dozed off because you did not remember hearing the sound of the flush or of the bathroom door opening or closing. You felt something tickle your face, and soon realised that it was Clint moving a stray strand of hair. You opened your eyes and they instantly met his. A moment passed in silence. It was comfortable … but there was something heavy in it, too. Something that made your breath hitch. Clint probably felt it, too, because he blinked and then suddenly moved away.

Unsure what to do, you slowly closed your eyes again, as though still partially asleep and hence vaguely aware of the situation. You tried hard to compose your sudden ragged breathing.

“I hope you’ve washed your hands,” you mumbled, your eyes still closed. You hoped that it would lighten the moment.

“Oops! Sorry to disappoint you!” Hearing the mirth in his voice gave you a little relief.

“Ha. Ha. Liar.”

The sound of his chuckle and the shift in the mattress told you that he had turned to face the other side. You opened one eye to confirm your doubt.

Indeed he had.

A small wave of disappointment washed over your heart. You lay there for a while, trying to slide back into the dreamscape. Nothing. A few innocent ideas to find that lost shred of peace popped up in your mind but, remembering the heaviness in the air from a few moments ago, you rejected them all. Your exhaustion had started taking its toll on you. And, in the end, you surrendered to your heart’s desires.

Sighing, you shifted closer to him, and wrapped your arm around his torso. In response, he held your hand, gently pressing it close to his chest. The warmth of his skin was soothing. But it was not enough. You scooted closer so that you were practically spooning him, and slowly wrapped your leg over his.

“Is this okay?” Your voice was barely audible, it being muffled by your doubts and by the pillow.

But the way he rubbed circles on the back of your hand with his thumb and responded “yeah” allowed you to unclench your muscles.

It was just one word but you heard everything in it. It wasn’t just an obligatory “yeah”. Neither was it a sleepy, half-conscious “yeah”. He wanted these - your closeness, your touch - as much as you wanted his. Clint reached for your thigh and pulled it further over himself.

Despite the depth of your friendship, you had never been so close to him before. But then, life wasn’t the same as before, was it? Clint was the only ray of sunshine in your life, and now you needed to hold on to that light - its warmth, its glow, everything.

Lulled by his steady breathing, you gradually descended into a peaceful space. You did not even realise when sleep had taken over. That was until your friend shuffled. The movement of muscle beneath your limbs and the tug of the comforter awoke you but only partially. You registered something warm and heavy settle on your waist, and faintly noted that Clint had pulled you flush against him.

He was warm. And even beneath the tautness of his muscles, there was a softness about him. It felt nice. Peaceful. Safe. It felt like…home.

Your sleep-drunk mind tried to pull up more descriptions but failed. “Home”: it felt like the perfect word for him; nothing further was needed.

Warm air rustled on your upper lip rhythmically. Heavy eyelids opened only slightly to note that his face was mere inches away from yours. For a moment he opened his eyes, too - hooded eyes that looked as though they were dreaming but you knew well that they were looking deep into your soul through your own. Two seconds later, he closed them, and so did you. Your fingers itched to touch his face but your arms felt too heavy. And they felt better on his back. So, you left them there.

Before you could doze off again, you felt warmth descend on your lips. You did not need to open your eyes this time. The softness of his lips was the first thing that registered in your mind; a delightful surprise. You had always found his mouth cute but never had you thought that they would be this tender! And they were sure of their actions. Clint knew what he was doing. It was not some sleep-driven whim, no. He wanted this. It almost felt like he needed this; a connection that transcended the moment.

Your mind was too dazed to process things further. And it ended all too soon, even before you could grasp properly what had happened. Or why.

When you opened your eyes again, you found Clint’s intense ones staring back at you - wide and wild. His breathing was paced. As if the faint, golden glow of the streetlights was not testament enough, you could feel its rush on your mouth. His hand was gently splayed on your back, as if to make sure you do not slip away.

And before you could fully comprehend the state of your own mind, your arm - the one that was comfortably flung around his back - slowly began making its way up to his face. Your fingers took their time to travel across the skin of his back, over his waist, his arm, all the way up to the side of his neck until they reached their destination on his cheek.

Clint’s frantic breathing visibly calmed down beneath your touch. Instinctively, he tilted his head so that the corner of his lips brushed against your palm. When your thumb started rubbing gentle circles on his cheekbone, he let out a long sigh before closing his eyes in content.

And you? Well, you leaned in to capture his parted lips with your own.

Behind closed eyes, Clint saw an entire galaxy unfurl before him. He inhaled a lungful of air through his nostrils while you let out a breath you did not even realise were holding. Both of your lips moved ardently, in perfect sync with one another. Unlike the previous brush of a kiss, this time Clint kissed you with a fierce passion that you had, until then, believed only to exist in fantasies. He pulled your body further into his, wrapping a leg over yours and threading his fingers into your hair. Unlike the dazed state of your mind the first time, this time you felt it all: the dizziness, the hunger, the burst of happiness, and the all-consuming desire to hold him as close to you as possible!

But with these feelings, crept up some uninvited voices in the back of your head. Logical voices that urged you to stop. Voices that warned that this was a mistake, that this was not how things were supposed to be, that Clint Barton was a friend, and that all of these will only end up in a heartbreak.

But you couldn’t be bothered. Not when Clint’s mouth was leaving pleas on yours and his hands were whispering prayers on your skin. Not when it finally made sense - all of it. That nagging feeling of being something more than friends, those stolen glances, those long looks, those blinding smiles that lit up whenever you were around each other, those fleeting touches that sent tingles racing long after, those unsaid things that always lingered between words - a silent acknowledgement of something much deeper. They all fell into place. Perhaps this was why neither could ever settle down with anybody else. Maybe - no, not maybe. Surely, that’s because you both sought each other in the crowds, drawn together by an undeniable connection.

His lips were insistent, leaving no room to catch your breath. Hot breath fanned your cheeks as arms pulled each other closer. When you tugged on his hair, the soft moan that left him almost melted you. Grabbing the moment, you dipped your tongue past his lips, and he welcomed you immediately. As you tasted one another, you rolled Clint over, almost lying on top of him. Your hand descended towards the mattress for support but found nothing. Opening your eyes, you realised that you both were balanced on the edge of the bed.

It took some effort to pull yourself away from a ravenous Clint.

“We’re on the edge,” you gestured with your eyes.

He first looked at you in confusion but soon turned his head to see. Then, absolutely unbothered by it, smoothly rolled over to hover on top of you, the comforter tangling you both up even further. Clint did not utter a word. Everything that needed to be said was being told by those kisses.

This was not how you had expected the night to unfold. Neither of you. Tongues painting feelings on your souls, hands memorising every curve and turn, limbs wrapped tightly around your bodies - neither of you knew how you ended up like this. But the only thing that you both knew was that it felt right. Nothing felt awkward or out-of-place. It felt like it was meant to be.

Clint’s weight pinned you down in the most delicious way. Reaching down, his hand gently but firmly tugged on your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh in his grip before placing it over his hips. Sliding up the length of your leg, the said hand settled on your ass, kneading it firmly. A smirk graced his lips when you squealed in response, and he took a mental note to do it again, as often as he could, wherever he could.

As soon as you shifted your head to breathe, away from his hungry mouth, he landed on the side of your neck, leaving nibbles on your pulse point, along the length of your neck, and over your jawline, while his tongue quickly followed behind to soothe the marks being left behind. 

Yout teeth caught his earlobe, eliciting a beautiful moan from him. While your lips sucked on his skin and left open-mouthed kisses along his neck, your hands desperately mapped his back. Every time you squeezed a muscle there, a hiss escaped him, encouraging you to explore more such vulnerable areas.

All this time, Clint had been touching and teasing you over your clothes. And although it did make you shiver in pleasure, you were beginning to grow weary of it. You wanted more. You longed for the warmth of his skin against yours. So, the next time his fingers brushed the hem of your tank top, you gently took his hand and guided it beneath the soft fabric, urging him closer.

It was not like Clint had not tried to hold himself back. Ever since you had slipped under his covers, and wrapped yourself around him, he had been wrestling with his desires. He had even slapped himself mentally the first time he kissed you. But then, when you had kissed him back, his resolve shattered. How could he possibly resist when he could feel your yearning mirroring his own? He had still tried. Tried not to cross the line, whatever fragile bit of it was left. But the moment you invited him on your skin, all his defences crumbled. 

He looked up at you, searching your eyes for any shards of hesitation. Relief washed over him to find that you were longing for the exact same things as him. His heart was hammering against his chest but his hand was gentle as it travelled up your body, taking your top up in its wake, eyes intensely following the movement of his own hand. It lingered for a small while on the underside of your breast, where it tickled patterns with the thumb. He wanted to take his time. But watching you writhe in anticipation changed everything. One instant, you felt his hand claim your breast, rough palm massaging you affectionately. The next instant, your top was being pulled off of you in a not-so-graceful manner. You could never mind, no. With Clint’s body enveloping you in the most loving way, you could not have a care in the world!  Not especially when calloused fingers were spanning across hot skin, tweaking a nipple or when his tongue was doing its magic on the other.

Your head fell back in pleasure, tempting Clint to taste your neck once more, to leave marks that would be reminiscent of these treasured moments. As his mouth travelled north, your hands travelled south on his back. They made their way beneath the comforter, past the elastic resistance of his underwear, and squeezed his ass. A smile formed on your lips at the beautiful moan that grazed the shell of your ear. Very lightly, you dragged your nails across his ass cheeks. His hips jerked up in response. And this time you were rewarded with a groan that was music to your ears. You did it again. He growled.

“Do it once more,” a warning lingered in his now hoarse voice, “and I swear-”

Before he could finish, you squeezed his ass with your nails, and delicately scratched your way up his spine, all the way up to his scalp. He could not help the roll of his hips against yours, drawing out prolonged moans from both.

“Fuck you, (Y/N)!”

His hoarse voice, paired with the unfinished threat, only aided to turn you on even more. You dragged your clothed core up and down his thigh, leaving wet trails behind. A strangled grunt from him adorned the night air.

Dragging your teeth along his jawline, you whispered close to his ear, “If all of this doesn’t lead to it, I’ll be genuinely disappointed, Barton!”

That dazzling grin - the one that you had unconsciously fallen for years ago, the smile that had dimmed under the weight of the world - sparkled once more. It was so good to see him happy again that you wished for time to stop right then and there, all so that you could watch that beautiful face light up again. 

Your own face lit up with a smile but your eyes betrayed you. That blinding smile morphed into a frown as Clint watched a single drop of tear slip down the side of your eye, landing softly on the pillow.

He quickly cradled your face, concern etched on his handsome features. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”

You felt silly and guilty at the same time, robbing him of his bubble of happiness. Sniffing, you shook your head. “No, no! Nothing, it’s just … “ You stared into his worried eyes. Cupping his face, you took a deep breath. “I love you, Clint Barton.”

His eyes softened, and that radiance was back on his face, crinkling his eyes in the most gorgeous ways! He took your hand from his face, and placed a long kiss on it. “You know I love you, too.”

He kissed the side of your wrist, over your pulse, on the back of your hand. He kissed each knuckle separately - an affectionate gesture to soothe years of pain. He ran your forefinger between his lips, eventually taking it, along with your middle finger, in his mouth, and gently lapping his tongue over it.

Your mouth breathed out a silent moan at both the sight and the feeling. You watched him run his lips over the length of your arm until they started tickling the side of your neck.

Your giggles were engulfed by his kiss. This was slower, more tender than the previous ones. This wasn’t one of the desperate battles of teeth and tongue but a heart-touching love letter written for your soul. He continued peppering kisses on your chin, your nose, your cheeks, eyes, forehead, temple - until he was sure that he hadn’t left any inch of your face untouched, and until another string of giggles reached his ears.

“You sure of this?” He searched your eyes once again that night.

You narrowed your eyes in mock annoyance and sighed. “I always knew you were thick-headed.”

The arch of an eyebrow and the look he gave you, along with that smirk, told you that your words had backfired.

“How did you know?” His words rumbled in your chest.

Blushing, you lightly punched his shoulder. “Just shut up and fuck me, agent Barton!”

The archer gave you a swoon-worthy lopsided smile. “Yes, ma’am!”

That sole word, “ma’am”, made you clench your thighs together. His mouth stole another greedy kiss from you while his fingers fumbled with the waistband of your underwear beneath the covers. You were busy shoving his own boxer briefs out of the way. You had successfully pushed it past his backside but got stuck on his erection.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed. “Did I hurt you?”

Clint assured you that he was fine, and assisted you in pushing the little piece of clothing down his ankles, your own following it two seconds later.

You were already prepared for him. So, when you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he lined up with you, it took him very little effort to slide inside. The sting of the stretch made you hiss. Clint kissed your cheek before slowly inching himself inside you. And once he was completely sheathed, he paused, allowing you to adjust to him. He was himself basking in the feeling of you wrapped around him, resting his forehead on yours, breath mingling with yours. It was only after you nodded lightly and patted his shoulder that he started moving.

It was a languid, agonising pace. It was intimate, beautiful but you wanted more. You could feel every bit of him inside you, and it only increased your hunger. His mouth left kisses wherever it could reach - your face, your hair, your collarbone, neck shoulders, ears, your chest - anywhere and everywhere.

“Clint!” You moaned. “More! … Please!”

“Yes, babe,” he groaned into your neck.

He pulled out up to the tip and pushed back swiftly, reaching deep inside you, causing you to bite your lip to suppress a rather loud moan.

“No, babe,” he breathed, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip, “don't. You've been holding back all night. I need to hear you. Please! Let go!”

And with those words, he pulled back and pushed in harder. This time you were almost sure that the sound of your pleasure was audible beyond the walls of the house.

“That's it, love!”

His praises spurred you on just like the sweet, sultry sounds that you made kept encouraging him.

The room was soon filled with sinful sounds of approval and of skin slapping on skin as you both began edging closer to that magical precipice. The cool breeze of the night wasn't helping your sweat-drenched bodies anymore.

With one hand he gently moved some of the sweat-stuck hair from your face. Slowly, he brought the hand down the side of your face to your neck. Delicately wrapping his fingers around your throat, Clint dipped his thumb into your open mouth. He watched in awe as you closed your lips around it and sucked, twirling your tongue around it now and then.

With a loud moan, Clint closed his eyes, pushing into you harder. Your head rolled back, and your moan filled the night air,  giving him the perfect opportunity to replace his thumb in your mouth with his tongue.

Clint carefully pushed your right leg upwards, so that your knee was close to your chest. This new angle allowed him to go deeper, hitting that perfect spot every single time, making your eyes roll back in your head and urging you to scream his name.

Not much later, you realised that his rhythm was faltering. He was close but was trying hard to hold himself for you.

“Touch me!” You rasped, and guided his hand down to your clit.

Cradling your head in the hand with which he had propped himself up, Clint rubbed you with that perfect pressure that made electricity jolt up your veins. The pace of his fingers matched the pace with which he pushed into you.

It was not long before you felt that familiar tightening in your belly.

“Clint! I'm-”

“I know, babe.” God, his hoarse voice was a sin in itself! “I can feel you.”

Whimpering and writhing beneath him, you kept clenching down on him involuntarily, pushing Clint faster towards the edge. You felt yourself coming undone when he bit on your shoulder with a grunt. And with the sound of his name echoing through the room and with you squeezing him with your entirety, he released into you.

You both took some moments to calm down, your sweat-sheened, limp bodies swelling and dipping with the pace of your hearts.

Clint slowly lifted his head to look at you. His attention was drawn to the way your tongue darted out to wet your parted lips, and he could not resist a tender kiss on them.

You whined when he slowly pulled out of you, an unwelcome feeling of emptiness making its way inside. Clint smiled and cradled your face.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised before getting off the bed.

A couple of minutes later, he returned with a warm, damp towel in his hand. Clint’s hands were unexpectedly delicate whilst cleaning you up. Once he was done, he bent down and blew a raspberry on your navel. You squealed and laughed like a child encouraging him to press loud kisses all over your tummy. It made you laugh. And it made you swell with love for this dork.

Throwing the towel on the floor - an action at which you scrunched your nose up but he chose to ignore with a shrug - he crawled back beneath the comforter, and pulled you flush against him.

“You’re one gorgeous piece of a woman! Did I ever tell you that?” Clint was drawing featherlight patterns on your skin.

“You did. Twice, I think. But both the times you were so drunk that I wasn’t sure if it was you talking or Tony’s booze.”

He laughed heartily. Oh, how you loved those crinkles around his eyes!

“Nah, it was me. It was me all along.”

“Yep,” you wrapped yourself around him. “It was you all along.”

You kissed again. The last thing you remembered before sleeping soundly was the feel of his mouth on you and the smiles and giggles that drowned the noises from the streets below.

***

[natashaslesbian]

We Saved Each Other (Part Seven)

Summary: Your mom starts to notice some differences in your behaviour and she’s not the only one. With the help of Maria and Clint they figure out the next steps

Word Count: 1.9k

Parings: (Natasha x Daughter!Reader) (Natasha x Clint) (Natasha x Maria)

Warnings: Crying, panic attacks, talks of autism symptoms/diagnosis (written from personal experience with my own autism)

————

A week ago, you and Natasha moved into Clint’s barn. It had been recently refurbished so it was the perfect place for you and your mom to take residency in. There was a cozy fireplace in the living room and the windows held a beautiful view of the wide fields. Although you were excited to have your new mommy and be living next door to your uncle, auntie and cousins, you were having a hard time settling in. Natasha was starting to notice some differences in your behaviour, the way you reacted to light and sounds and the subtle ways you were a little different to Lila. The young Barton was the only example Nat had of a normal upbringing for a child and in the months you’ve been with her it was obvious you weren’t developing in the same way. Natasha just thought it was your red room upbringing, they didn’t exactly care about the well being of their widows.

The interruption to your routine once again had Natasha’s suspicions on high alert. You were seeming to thrive at the tower but this big change was taking its toll on you. It was yet another restless night for you both, you were again taking residence in your mamas bedroom. “Come on sweetheart, just close those pretty eyes and I’m sure you’ll be asleep before you know it” Natasha whispered “I don’t like the sheets mommy” you whined. Your mom had brought seven different sets of bedsheets by now, both for your bed and her own, but you seemed to hate them all. “I know baby, I promise I’ll go and get our old ones in the morning” Natasha said as she gently stroked your head. You were desperate for your old bedsheets, they were so soft and comfy, they felt like heaven. You continued to fidget a little longer until the exhaustion finally caught up with you and you finally fell asleep.

Breakfast was the next mountain to climb, there had been no time to grocery shop so the cupboards were filled with little to nothing from the Barton’s pantry. Every morning you had coco pops, but since moving in all there had been were cornflakes and you hated them. They went soggy in the milk and got stuck all around your teeth. Natasha has tried to offer you other alternates including pop tarts but all you wanted were your coco pops. “You won’t grow big and strong if you don’t eat your breakfast y/n” Natasha cooed in the hopes today would be the day you would actually eat the cornflakes (or anything else for that matter). “I don’t like it” you mumbled as your eyes became watery “oh sweetheart don’t cry” Natasha said as she came to your side “how about mommy takes a trip to the store after I pick up our sheets okay?” She suggested “yes please” you said.

You begged Natasha to take you with her to the tower, you couldn’t bare to leave her side. Your mom explained that there was work being done and it would most likely be very busy but still, you refused to let go of her as she tried to pass you into Clint’s waiting arms. “I think I’m just gonna have to take her with me” Nat sighed as she adjusted you on her hip. “You need a ride?” Clint asked “yeah that’d be great actually” Natasha smiled, grateful for the extra pair of hands. You fell asleep during the journey, giving your mom a few minuets to finally get a little rest of her own. “Somethings wrong Clint I can feel it” the redhead muttered as she looked down at your sleeping form. “Is she sick?” Clint politely asked, “no, no something else is wrong” Nat sighed “it’s something else, I just don’t know what”

As soon as Natasha stepped foot in the tower you bolted awake as the sound of drills invaded your head. You cried loudly into your mamas neck and wrapped your hands tightly around your ears. “Shhh sweetheart it’s okay it’s just some construction work remember” Nat cooed in an attempt to calm you down. “Let’s get up to your room” Clint suggested, leading you both quickly to the elevator. You calmed slightly when the doors finally shut, opening your eyes to blink up at your mama. “See you’re okay baby” she whispered. When the three of you arrived at your desired floor, it was apparent that the work being done wasn’t just confined to the lobby. You shrieked at the sudden appearance of hundreds of workers, all of them men and racing past you in every direction.

You squirmed out of Natasha’s hold and crashed to the floor in a panic. “It’s alright y/n, come on let’s go get our things” Nat said as she crouched down to lift you back up. “No!” You yelled as hands attempted to pick you up off the floor. You found your feet and they took you running through the forest of tall legs around you. “Y/n!” Natasha called after you, the fear of loosing you setting in quickly. She began to run after you, swiftly followed by Clint. The two bumped into every worker as they tried to keep their eyes on you but soon enough you were out of eyes reach. “Y/n!” Natasha called again, throwing a builder to the floor as he crossed her path. She came to an abrupt stop as the crowd around her dispersed and she was met with the many hallways leading to different parts of the tower.

Clint came crashing into Nats side and managed to stop them both from hitting the floor. “Natasha take a deep breath” he said as she met the widows eyes “she can’t have gone far we’ll find her” he assured. “Clin- Clint” Natasha stammered “I can’t- breath- Clint” she mumbled as she tried to take a breath. “Natasha, hey, look at me, you need to breath for me, like this ok” Clint said as he began to take deep breaths encouraging Nat to do the same. The red head didn’t know what was happening to her, sure she’d had many panic attacks and breakdowns before but they had never been this bad. By now, Clint had learned how to best help his friend when these moments arose, he led Natasha a few feet down one of the several hallways where it was slightly quieter.

Nat pressed her back against the wall and gently slid down to the floor. “Natasha” Clint said as he crouched done next to the redhead “deep breaths okay, in and out, you’ve done it before you can do it again” he calmly spoke. Natasha was just starting to regain control of her breath when Maria came running down the hall “Romanoff” she called, the widow immediately turning off her emotions when the agent appeared “it’s y/n she’s in your guys room” Maria said, out of breath from her small jog. Natasha didn’t waste a second as she stood to her feet and sprinted wildly down the corridor. She almost crashed into the door but managed to stop herself before she could burst in and scare you even more. “I’ll be here” Clint said from a few doors down, giving Natasha the space to comfort you.

“Y/n baby” Natasha quietly called as she slowly pushed open the door “are you in here?” You peaked your head out from under the covers when you heard your mothers voice. Her eyes landed on yours and she softly walked over to the bed “what happened sweetheart, did you get scared?” Natasha asked, you nodded your little head as you reached out to your mom “too loud mommy” you whimpered. Natasha didn’t hesitate for a moment as she came to scoop you up into her arms “oh baby I’m sorry, I should’ve known it might upset you.” She cooed as she wrapped you up in her embrace. You let our soft whimpers as your mama gently rocked you, the motion slowly lulling you to sleep. “You have a nap baby girl, I’ll get us home okay” Natasha whispered.

A soft knock on the door brought Nat back to reality “come in” she quietly said. “How is she?” Clint asked as he peered around the door “asleep, the noise scared her I think” Natasha said. “Can I talk to you? Can we talk to you?” Clint said, pushing the door wider to reveal Maria stood beside him. “What’s wrong?” Natasha said in a fearful tone “nothings wrong I promise, it’s just, well we wanted to talk to you about y/n. About maybe getting her tested for a learning disability” Clint said. “What” Natasha said, gritting her teeth. She gently placed you down between the sheets and ushered the two agents outside. “What the hell are you talking about?” She said frustratedly. “Well” Clint began “this morning in the car when you were saying that you thought something was wrong with her” he said “I didn’t say something was wrong with her” Natasha cut him off “she’s not stupid” she bit at the pair. “No ones saying she is” Maria said “she might just have some different needs” she finished.

“Are you calling my daughter special needs Hill?” Natasha questioned angrily. “Natasha calm down we’re just trying to help, we’re concerned and I know you are too” Clint said. “I guess she is different I just- figured it was because of the red room” Natasha said sadly “but it’s not is it” she sighed. There was a moments pause before Maria spoke up again. “I noticed a few things when we were at the store a few weeks ago, when she got lost. And Clint said he’s noticed some stuff to” she said. Clint cleared his throat “she obviously doesn’t like loud noises and crowds are defiantly an issue for her” he said “there’s other things as well like her delayed speech and her reaction to light. I’m worried it might be autism” he finished. “Autism” Natasha questioned. She had heard of it before but remained unsure of what it actually looked like, if any girls at the red room where found to have any kind of disability they were executed.

“So what do we do?” Nat asked, all she wanted to do was keep you safe so although the circumstances made her nervous she knew she would do whatever it takes to help you. “We can get a shield professional to asses her” Maria said “they’ll look at her behaviour over a period of time and then make a diagnosis” Natasha let out a nervous sigh “okay” she whispered. “Whatever happens we’ll be here for her, and you” Clint said. “Will they take her away from me?” Natasha asked, keeping her tears at bay. “No of course not” Maria said “Natasha it’s not your fault” she continued when she realised the root of Nat’s worry. “Hey look at me” Clint said “nothing will ever change the fact that she’s your daughter. This will just allow us to help her.” He said. “Okay” the redhead sighed “I’ll set everything up” Maria smiled, excusing herself to get back to work. “Why don’t I take you both home” Clint said.

The journey back felt longer than usual. You stayed soundly asleep in your mamas lap as she gazed down at you with love. Natasha was battling with the thousand thoughts racing through her head. Would people look at you different if you had a learning disability and how would you cope with another issue on top of the mountain of ones you already had. The widow pulled you closer into her chest as you began to squirm “shhhhh you’re okay, mamas here baby” she cooed. “Mommy” you whispered “bad dream” you whimpered. “I’m sorry sweetie. Mommy’s here okay. I’ll always protect you” Natasha said as she gently kissed your forehead. She meant every word, she would always and forever look out for you.

————

Finally the next part of WSEO is here! Sorry it’s been so long🩷

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut t / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904