#clintashafamily

[flyingblackhawk]

~ GRAND REOPENING ~

In the wake of AC19 (thank you for all the prompts and the love, I had an excellent month) I have finally finished six weeks’ worth of re-tagging and theme tweaking. Highlights of the new and improved page include:

Access to the full fic library either from newest to oldest or oldest to newest

Tags for short (around ~500w) or long (1400+w) fics

A new subsection of the Story list for the following curated collections:

Century Club, for fics with 100+ notes

I Hate Myself and Want to Be in Pain, for my saddest stories 

Fluffier than a Blowdried Pomeranian, for disgustingly fluffy fluff

Flyingblackhawk’s Personal Favourites, where I stroke my own ego

A better layout for the rest of the fic list

A link to my AO3 fics (which are few and far between but are much longer and better thought out)

A beautiful new theme (‘Labrador’ by @febrilcuevas)

A new header image (from Avengers Assemble Vol 2 #5)

Things to note:

Several tags have been eliminated, including clintasharomance (mostly redistributed to clintashafluff) and all domestic tags (clintashadomestic, clintashababies etc. now fall under clintashafamily).

There was an issue with fics which had multiple prompt images where the permalink didn’t display any of the text. That should now be fixed, but if you come across a fic you can’t access, please message me about it!

I will be posting a couple of times a week! Currently I have no timetable planned but if that changes I will update you accordingly. 

There are still a few things I’m working out in the new theme so if you notice any weird glitches or issues, again please message me!

Thank you all so much for sticking around. There are almost 3000 of you and I am so grateful to all of you. Getting prompts and messages always makes me so happy, as does writing for all of you. If you have any questions, comments, or just want to get in touch, send me a message through Requests, or chat! 

[flyingblackhawk]

[flyingblackhawk]

Uncle Barney 806 words Clintasha fic

-

The fields are quiet, early morning mist drifting through the trees and up the path to the little house. Clint leads the way from the clearing where they've put the jet down, with Natasha leaning on his shoulder. The team is battered, and in need of baths, food, and sleep.

When they reach the porch, Clint turns to Nat. She nods, and he pulls the key out of his pocket and unlocks the door.

The house is quiet, but warm. The fire has been burning all night, and despite everything that’s happened in the last few days, Natasha can’t help but relax when she feels that warmth envelop her. It's the feeling of coming home that she never thought she’d feel when she was younger, and tougher, and sharper. A different person.

“Why is it warm?” Tony asks. Clint huffs, as if the man is asking a stupid question, and then leads the way into the living room. They get four steps down the hall, and Natasha hears the sound of little feet running down the stairs, followed by heavier footsteps.

A man appears in the hall, with a little girl hiding behind his legs. Seeing the strangers in her house makes her shy, and she stays behind the man, who is now walking towards them.

“You look familiar,” Steve frowns. “Have I threatened you before?”

“Hey,” Clint grins tiredly, reaching out to clap the man on the back. “I brought my friends home for a sleepover. Hope that’s okay.”

“As long as you’re still paying for pizza,” the man shrugs, leaning over to kiss Natasha on the cheek.

“Hey, Barney,” she smiles.

“Barney?” Bruce asks, his voice confused. “As in, your brother Barney?”

Natasha remembers why they're here, and she motions to Barney. “Take her upstairs, I’ll get these guys sorted out.”

Barney nods, and scoops the little girl into his arms. Clint waves to her, and she waves shyly back as she’s carried off.

“So many questions,” Tony says, as they troop into the kitchen.

“Food and sleep first,” Clint says. Natasha collapses onto the couch, and Clint makes a round of tea spiked with vodka for everyone. One by one, Clint shows them the bathrooms and spare bedrooms, and once everyone else is sorted, he comes for Natasha and helps her up the stairs.

“Mama?”

Anastasia is waiting for them at the top of the stairs, and she scrambles over to her mother as Natasha kneels down to hug her.

“Are you okay, Mama?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Mama just needs some sleep. Your daddy and I are very tired.”

“Did you beat up all the bad guys?”

Natasha glares wearily at Barney, who laughs, and scoops his niece off the ground again. She giggles, and wraps her arms around her uncle’s neck.

“C’mon,” Clint says, winding an arm around Natasha’s waist. “Let’s clean up and get to bed.”

The rest of the night is a blur for Natasha, but when she wakes up, it is to a tugging sensation. Someone is pulling on the cuff of her pyjama shirt.

“Mama?”

“Morning, sweetheart,” she mumbles, sitting up. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Him and Uncle Barney are making breakfast for your friends,” Ana says, bouncing happily on the bed. “You gotta come down and have pancakes.”

Natasha laughs, and finds a robe to sling on over her pyjamas. She considers getting dressed, but the looks she gets from her team when she walks into the kitchen in a robe with a child on her hip are priceless, and besides, she always has Sunday breakfast in her pyjamas.

“So…” Steve murmurs, warily. “This is… Barney’s house?”

Clint laughs uproariously, and Barney flips him off.

“Not exactly,” Natasha sighs. “But he treats it like it is.”

“You said I could stay when I needed.”

“If you needed. We never said you could stay forever.”

“It was implied.”

“It absolutely was not implied.”

Steve is looking between the three of them like they’re all crazy. “So Ana is…”

“Not mine,” Barney says, shrugging. “She spends a lot of time with me, though. I’m the responsible one.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, but she can’t contest that compared to her and Clint, Barney does make a fairly responsible parent figure for her daughter.

“We made bets on whether you two were together,” Thor manages, through a mouth of pancakes. “None of us foresaw anything like this.”

“Trust me,” Natasha says, yawning, “neither did we.”

Clint smiles over his shoulder at her, and serves up the next round of pancakes. Natasha sits at the table with her daughter on her knee, and feeds her morsels of pancakes. The world has turned upside down and back again about six times already this week, but for now she’s happy just to sit with Ana on her lap and have breakfast with her weird little family.

[flyingblackhawk]

Back to Front

Clintasha domestic AU fic

2,290 words

-

When Natasha woke, her head ached and her mouth felt dry, as if she were hungover. She sat up, trying to remember if she’d been drinking the night before. The team had all been in the large lounge on the top floor, but no... they hadn’t been drinking.

With a start, she realised that she wasn’t in her room. She was in a bedroom she didn’t recognise - and there had clearly been someone else here recently. She could see bits and pieces of men’s clothing here and there - a pair of jeans too large for her, a shirt... what the hell was going on?

Someone came through the door and she tensed. She felt a flood of relief when Clint walked in, carrying two cups of tea and wearing a warm smile. Then her mind connected the dots and she felt her chest tighten. They hadn’t... had they?

“Here you go, sweetheart,” Clint said, handing her one cup and kissing her forehead. Natasha was too shocked to do anything. She held her tea tightly and looked around for any clues as to where they were. Had Clint ever mentioned having a place of his own? She didn’t think so, but she wasn’t sure. 

“You might want to drink that before Charlie wakes up,” Clint chuckled. Natasha frowned.

Her unasked question was answered when a young boy bounded into the bedroom. “Daddy!” he grinned, leaping onto the bed. Natasha hastily put her untouched tea down on the nightstand and stared as Clint tackled the squealing boy in a bear hug.

“Morning, kiddo,” he grinned, kissing the boy on the forehead. “Did you sleep well?”

Natasha by now was beyond confused. She looked from the boy to Clint. There was no denying that they looked alike - but why would Clint have kept the boy a secret? And who was his mother?

“You gonna say good morning to Mommy?” Clint asked. The boy crawled over to Natasha and flopped onto her stomach, yawning. 

“Morning, Mommy,” he beamed. “Can we have pancakes for breakfast?”

Natasha was overcome with a sudden sense of relief. It was a dream. Of course it was a dream. She didn’t have a kid with Clint. She was dreaming.

“Mommy?” Charlie asked, tilting his head. 

“Uh... sure,” Natasha said, taking stock of the boy. He did look a bit like her. 

“Careful, Charlie,” Clint chided. “Don’t press on Mommy’s tummy. Your little sister doesn’t like it.”

This only confused Natasha more, until she looked down. Sure enough, her stomach was curved gently in what could only be the first few months of a pregnancy.

“C’mon, Charlie,” Clint said. “I think Mommy needs a rest. I’ll make pancakes for you.”

The boy squealed excitedly and leapt off the bed. Clint kissed Natasha gently before she could do anything, and then left with the child in tow.

Natasha stared down at her stomach for a moment, then rolled out of bed. She went to the window and opened the curtains, then stared uncomprehendingly out at the view of a suburban street in the early morning. It looked like the outskirts of Brooklyn, but it could have been anywhere. If she was dreaming, this was certainly detailed. If not...

She shook her head. Of course it was a dream. How could it be anything else? 

Suddenly, she felt queasy. She breathed deeply, but in seconds she was sprinting to what she correctly assumed to be the bathroom. She was sick, coughing and spluttering as she slumped over the cold rim of the toilet. 

The burning sensation in her nose and throat was doing nothing to dispel the dream - it only made it feel more and more real. She pinched herself hard, but it did not disappear. Then she felt a gentle hand on her back.

“Hey,” Clint said softly, stroking her hair back off her face. “You okay?”

She nodded, wiping her mouth with a faint noise of disgust. “Yeah.”

“You seemed a bit off before, was it the sickness?” Clint asked, frowning. “I could go out and get some of those ginger pills you had when you were pregnant with Charlie.”

She looked at him, and there was nothing but love and concern in his eyes. His hand on her back felt good; felt warm... felt real. 

She had to know. She was almost certain now that she wasn’t asleep, and that meant that something seriously weird was going on. She needed to find out how much everything had changed. 

“Heard from Nick recently?” she asked cautiously, as Clint helped her out of the bathroom.

“Nick?” Clint frowned, thinking. “Is he that dad from the studio?”

She shook her head, wondering what he meant by ‘studio’. “You’ve met Nick. Tall, black, wears a long coat most of the time... only has one eye.”

Clint shrugged. “Doesn’t sound like anyone I know. I would have remembered him for the eye thing - he sounds a bit like a bad guy from some movie.”

She shrugged, feeling a little unnerved. “And SHIELD?”

“Shield?” he asked, frowning again. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Tasha? I can take Charlie out if you want some rest.”

She shook her head. “No, ignore me, it’s... the hormones.”

He smiled, and kissed her on the head. Once he had left, Natasha began methodically searching the room until she found what she was looking for - her phone. Scrolling through it, she found no trace of any of her team members, nor anyone she had ever known to be associated with SHIELD. Then, halfway through searching for Maria Hill, she almost dropped the phone at the name that popped up on the screen.

“Mom,” she murmured, clutching the phone. A cursory search showed there was a contact for ‘Dad’ as well. With shaking hands, she pressed the number for her mother.

It rang three times before a woman picked up.

“Hello?” she answered. Natasha almost bit through her lip. She knew that voice. 

“Mama?” she murmured.

“Tasha!” her mother exclaimed. “How are you, darling?”

Natasha could say nothing.

“Tasha?” the woman asked. “Are you alright, my love?”

“I’m... fine,” Natasha managed to choke out. “I’m fine, Mom.”

“I’m glad you called,” her mother said. “Your father wants to speak to you about taking Charlie to the beach on Saturday.”

There were a few muffled sounds, and then a voice.

“Nattie,” a deep voice greeted her. Natasha pressed her hand to her mouth, trembling.

“Hi, Dad,” she whispered.

“It’s good to hear from you, sweetheart,” her father said. “Now, your mother and I are going to the beach house for the weekend, and we’d be more than happy to take Charlie along with us. You know, to give you and Clint some time to relax.”

“I... yeah, that sounds great, Dad,” Natasha replied, barely able to keep the tremors out of her voice. 

“How about we come and pick him up at nine?” her father asked. “He’s always up by then, Clint tells me.”

“That sounds perfect,” Natasha said. 

“Alright, my girl,” her father rumbled. “We’ll see you on Saturday morning. We love you.”

“Love you too,” Natasha murmured, and hung up.

-

As the day wore on, Natasha came to a conclusion: this was some sort of parallel to her own world. She had no idea how she had come to be here, but it was vastly different to her life as she knew it. Charlie was a little ball of energy, and Clint’s loving caresses kept taking her completely by surprise.

Being a spy had its advantages - she could avoid having to awkwardly pry information out of Clint by doing  some reconnaissance on herself. Based on what she found, she ran a dance studio a couple of miles away, she and Clint had been married seven years, and she was four months pregnant. It was odd to think about, and several times she forgot about her condition, only to be surprised again whenever she looked down.

She could only guess at how long she might be stuck here.

-

When Saturday morning arrived, two days later, Natasha had almost fallen into the rhythm of having a family. She couldn’t shake the nerves she felt when she heard a car pull up in their driveway. It was just on nine when the doorbell rang and Charlie ran squealing to greet his grandparents. Natasha hung back a little as they entered the house, gazing at them.

“Nattie,” her father smiled, scooping her into a bear hug. She melted into his arms and hugged him tightly. 

“Hi, Dad,” she said, her chest tight. “Hi Mom.”

Her mother smiled warmly at her, then picked up Charlie. 

“You ready to go to the beach, Charlie boy?” she asked.

“Yes!” Charlie exclaimed. Clint passed Natasha’s father Charlie’s bag.

“We should get going if we’re going to get there by lunch time,” her father smiled. “Alright, it was good to see you two. Have fun this weekend.”

“Thanks, guys,” Clint said. They left, and Natasha felt almost bereaved.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Clint said, sliding an arm around her waist. “I ran a bath for you upstairs.”

-

By the time Charlie was returned to them on Sunday night, exhausted and still inexplicably covered in sand, Natasha was completely used to being in a relationship with Clint. If she’d known the sex was this good, she would have pounced on him years ago. Screw professionalism. But now that there was no shared profession, nor any sense of duty or propriety to be observed, she let herself go with whatever happened. 

Something that was very new was her own body. Back in her own reality, she was a hand-crafted superhuman, trained and conditioned by the Red Room into a near-indestructible force. Here, she was just as susceptible to things as a regular human, from paper cuts to trouble lifting heavy objects. Clint helped her, but she found she didn’t mind as much as she might have back in her own world. He loved her, and that was why he wanted to help - not out of some misguided sense of masculine duty.

She liked being here, she realised, as she helped Clint wash their son in the bathtub upstairs. She liked having this kid laughing and splashing about. She didn’t mind getting wet, if it meant seeing the warm smile on Clint’s face. And she was starting to become attached to the daughter growing inside her. A part of her was still screaming that it was all an illusion, but it was like a never ending perfect dream for Natasha - so she ignored that little voice of warning and began to believe that it was real.

-

Her work was enjoyable as well. The kids at the dance studio were happy, and tried hard for her. They loved her, and the adoration of children was something she had never had before. She liked that too.

After a week of living like a normal person, the memories of her old life were beginning to fade. She was lying on the couch with her head in Clint’s lap, half watching a movie while he played with her hair. 

“I love you,” she said suddenly. For her, it was the first time she’d said it. Clint just smiled as if he heard it all the time, and dipped down to kiss her gently. 

“I love you too, Tasha,” he smiled. In that instant, Natasha knew she would be happy staying here forever. This was the life she had never wanted until now, but now she had tasted it, she didn’t want to let it go. She drifted off in Clint’s lap to the sound of the movie ending, and was only vaguely aware of him carrying her to bed before the world faded away.

-

Natasha woke to dim light. She reached out for Clint, and found the bed empty. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and found herself back in her room. Her room. Her Stark Tower room.

She leaped out of bed and hurried down to the kitchen. Her heart dropped when she saw Steve pouring out a glass of juice and Tony reading the paper at the table. 

“Hey, Romanoff,” Tony greeted her. 

“Have you guys seen Clint?” she asked breathlessly.

“I think he was in the training rooms,” Steve said, giving her a puzzled frown. He didn’t have time to ask why she was looking for the archer before she ran out again.

Clint was at the weights bench when Natasha stopped in the doorway, panting.

“Tasha?” he frowned. “Are you okay?”

He stood up and she ran to him, flinging her arms around him. She felt him tense for a moment, then cautiously hug her back. She could feel him radiating confusion - she had never hugged him before. 

She pulled back, wiping her eyes. “If you had a son, what would you call him?”

“What?” Clint asked, beyond confused now. “Natasha, are you alright?”

“Answer the question, Clint,” she growled, still gripping his forearms. 

He thought for a moment. “Charlie,” he answered at last. “I’d call my son Charlie.”

She pressed herself into his arms and kissed him sweetly. If Clint had been confused before, he was completely shocked at this point. But as Natasha kissed him, his arms instinctively went around her and he kissed her back.

“Nat,” he gasped, as they broke apart. “What... what...”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, cupping his cheek. “‘I’ve been an idiot. You and I are meant to be together.”

He gazed at her for a long moment. “Yes,” he replied finally. “Yes we are.”

She grinned, and he wrapped her in a tight embrace.

“I love you,” she whispered, nuzzling into him.

“I love you too,” came the reply.

[flyingblackhawk]

Pursuit of Perfection

Clintasha domestic fic (Merida)

1,278 words

Read Part 2

-

When Merida looks at her mother, all she sees is absolute perfection. Natasha Romanoff is beautiful, strong, fast, and seems to be able to do anything. Merida, however, is not perfect. Not nearly. 

It starts innocently enough, just with a diet. Her mother leaves for yet another mission in a sleek black dress, showing off her perfect body, and Merida knows that she could have that too, if only she could just eat a little less, and exercise a little more. Natasha and Clint kiss their daughter goodbye and leave. Merida heads straight for the gym.

It continues, and Merida finds herself able to cope with her new regimen. She eats a little less at every meal, and trains every day. Within a week, the pounds begin to drop off, but she sees no difference when she looks at herself in the mirror. She doesn’t let it get to her, just decreases her meal sizes again, and spends an extra half hour in the gym when she can.

It is not until she goes to the lab with Tony to help with a few experiments that she starts to feel weird. She can’t focus, and she feels faint, and sick.

“You okay, kiddo?” Tony asks, lifting his safety goggles. Merida nods, and tries to hold the beaker in her hand steady. It won’t stop shaking no matter how hard she tries, and she sets it down.

“Can we take a break?” she mumbles. Tony nods, frowning a little. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Merida?” he asks. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

As ever, Tony is correct. Merida stands up, takes a couple of steps and then the world goes black.

When she wakes, Tony has carried her to the sofa in the lounge upstairs from the lab.

“Hey there,” he says, worry etched into his brow. “You passed out.”

“M’fine,” she mutters, trying to sit up. Tony passes her a glass of water.

The door opens, and Natasha hurries in.

“Oh, thank God you’re okay,” she sighs, perching on the sofa next to her daughter. Merida looks at how there is not even a hair out of place on Natasha’s head, and she turns her head away.

“I’m fine, Mom,” she mutters.

“What happened?” Natasha asks. “Are you feeling sick, baby?”

“I’m fine,” Merida snaps. “Leave me alone.”

She gets unsteadily to her feet and storms out, leaving her mother and Tony staring after her.

-

It takes Tony almost a month to figure it out, and when he does, he doesn’t know who to talk to. Clint would overreact, of course, and Natasha seems to be the enemy at the moment, though Tony doesn’t know why. So he decides to talk to Bruce. The scientist observes quietly - surely he will have noticed it too?

“Hey, Bruce,” he says, wandering into the lab.

“Hi,” Bruce replies, straightening up. “You said you wanted to talk?”

“It’s about Merida,” Tony sighs.

“What about her?”

They sit, and Tony explains what he has noticed. Bruce looks confused at first, then horrified.

“Are you sure?” he asks quietly.

“She’s stick thin, Bruce,” Tony says. “I know I’m not the best guy to be dealing with teenagers, but someone needs to talk to her. She needs help.”

Bruce nods, looking shocked. Merida has always been a healthy, happy kid. To imagine her starving herself... it’s a shock.

“She trusts you, Tony,” Bruce says at last. “You’re her teacher, not a parent. She’ll listen to you.”

Tony looks downright scared. “What if she doesn’t?”

“Then you talk to Clint,” Bruce says. “She needs you, Tony. You have to do it.”

-

After two days, Tony finally gets up the courage to go up to Merida’s room and knock on the door. He almost runs away. Almost. 

“Come in,” Merida calls. He goes in.

Even though he has seen her several times over the last few days, it is hard to see Merida looking so unhealthy. Her face is gaunt, and her ribs are visible through her singlet top. She looks exhausted.

“What’s up, Tony?” she asks. Even her eyes look tired.

“I wanted to talk to you, kiddo,” Tony murmurs. She is immediately on guard, and it reminds Tony strongly of Natasha. 

“What about?” she asks. 

“It’s about how you’re feeling at the moment,” he says softly. “I’ve noticed you’ve lost weight.”

She beams at him, and he feels sick.

“Thanks,” she smiles. “I didn’t think anyone had noticed.”

“Merida...” he murmurs. “It’s not good. You’re losing too much weight, too fast. It’s not healthy.”

Her face falls into a stony, stubborn look.

“You don’t understand,” she says flatly. “I have to look better.”

“Better than what?” Tony frowns.

The teenager seems to struggle for a moment, then she shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Merida, people die from under eating,” Tony says. “I don’t want to have to tell your mother that while she was away you starved to death.”

It’s the look she gives him on the word mother that gives her away.

“It’s your mom, isn’t it?” he asks. She turns her head away.

“No,” she snaps, her anger not quite disguising the tremor in her voice.

“Talk to me,” Tony begs. “Please, you can talk to me. You know you can.”

Merida turns to him and there are tears in her eyes. “She’s so beautiful, Tony. She’s beautiful and perfect, and I’m fat and ugly. I’m nothing like her.”

Tony is so shocked by her words that all he can do is let her lean against him and cry. 

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers at last.

“No one looks at me like they look at my mom,” she whispers.

“If they ever did, I’d kill them,” Tony says savagely, wrapping her in a hug. “I’m not talking about pretty, or sexy, or hot- you’re beautiful. Properly beautiful. Inside and out.”

Merida burrows into his arms and he holds her tight.

“They’re never here, Tony,” she whispers, looking up at him with those wide, sad eyes that makes him want to protect her with his life. “They’re always away.”

“I know,” he says, blinking rapidly to stop himself from crying. “But you know that if they could come home they would. And I’m always here when you need me, and Steve, and Bruce, and Pepper. Sometimes even Thor. You know we’re all here for you.”

“But I want them,” Merida sniffed. “They’re my mom and dad.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Tony murmurs. “But this... this is something we have to deal with.”

She shakes her head. “Tony, I have to be like my mom. Just a few more months and I’ll get there.”

“You’re killing yourself,” he says, his voice heavy. “And I can’t let you do that.”

She glares at him, and pulls away. “You can’t make me stop.”

Tony stands up. “I can do whatever I damn well please,” he says, his tone harsh. “This is my home too, and your parents are my friends. I will do whatever I can to protect their daughter, and if that means knocking you out and sticking a feeding tube down your throat, then I will do it, because I love you, and I love them, and you are not going to waste away on my watch.”

She is so shocked by his anger that all she can do for a moment is stare. Then she bursts into tears and collapses against him, and he holds her tight, soothing her.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispers. “You were already perfect. You’ll see.”

She clings to him, and he holds her until her tears are gone.

[flyingblackhawk]

In Memoriam

Merida fic (Clintasha domestic)

Companion to Impact Velocity

892 words

-

When Fury makes it known that their next target is the group that took down Hawkeye and the Black Widow, he does not have to wait long before the agent he is expecting arrives in his office.

“Agent Barton,” he says, when the door closes behind her.

Merida takes a seat without being asked.

“You’re here about the mission,” Fury says. It is not a question.

“I want to request to be assigned,” she says evenly.

“Out of the question,” he says immediately. “You have a personal involvement with this case.”

“You’re right,” she replies. “I do.”

He looks up, and there is Natasha Romanoff looking back at him with Clint Barton’s eyes. It’s eerie, how much she looks like them. Even at eighteen, she is the spitting image of her mother. She even sounds like Natasha.

“That’s why you have to let me go.”

Fury gazes at her. “I can’t. Against the rules.”

“When has that stopped you?” she asks, leaning back in her chair. “Are you afraid of something?”

“That you’ll get yourself killed.”

“I won’t,” she sighs. “You know that.”

He shrugs. “I can’t let you go chasing your parents’ killers. This is a Priority One mission, and you’re only eighteen.”

“I’m the best of all of them,” she hisses, losing her cool for the first time. “You know that. I’m their daughter, of course I am. They were your best agents, and they were slaughtered. Now its time for these people to realise what they brought upon themselves.”

“Merida-”

“If you don’t put me on this mission,” she warns, “I’m only going to go on my own.”

“I know,” he sighs, defeated at last. He knew he wouldn’t be able to say no to her. He helped to raise her, after all. “Very well, Agent Barton.”

“Thank you, Nick,” she murmurs, her face softening. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

-

Three days later, Merida and the four other agents on the team are approaching a low concrete compound under the cover of darkness. They are wearing several layers to protect them from the winter frosts of Volgograd. Not for the first time, she wonders what her mother’s childhood here was like. She shakes off those thoughts after a moment, and focuses on the situation in hand.

The group are apparently what became of the escaped Red Room scientists. Over the last twenty years or so they regained some of their original strength, and SHIELD caught onto word of some new experiments. Now, the objective of the team is to shut down to operation. Their enemies are officially to be taken alive or dead, but not one person on the team approaching the compound is kidding themselves into thinking that anyone remotely connected to Barton and Romanoff’s deaths will leave alive.

The leader gives the signal, and the team splits. Merida and one other agent go left, while the other three go right. The lightest guarded entrances are on either side of the compound roof, and that is where they will go in.

Merida makes sure her hair is tucked under her mask and hood, and advances.

-

The alarm is quick to sound, but not quick enough. The team of five agents takes down seventeen of the twenty men inside within two minutes, leaving just three in the central panic room. One agent, a friend of Merida’s, blows the electronic lock right out of the wall, and the door swings open.

One man goes to enter, but the leader holds him back. “This is Barton’s,” he says gruffly. He turns to Merida.

“You have five minutes. It was self-defence, they tried to come at you. There was nothing we could do to stop you, the door locked accidentally.”

“Thanks,” Merida says quietly, and steps through the door.

The three men are armed, but she fixes that with a few swift movements. Soon, the men are kneeling in front of her, and she takes off her mask and hood. Her long, curly red hair falls around her shoulders, and the men pale. She knows when the middle man starts praying for mercy in Russian that she has found them. The other two just stare at her as though she is a ghost – and to them she is; the ghost of a woman they killed almost five years ago.

In one motion, Merida draws a knife. It is buried in the first man’s chest before he can blink.

“This is for my mother,” she whispers as the man slumps sideways. The second man has time to draw a single breath before there is an arrow shaft protruding from his chest.

“This is for my father,” she tells him, as she releases her grip on the arrow. The third man stares at her.

“And this is for me,” she says, drawing her gun.

When the single shot is fired, the door opens and the team looks in.

“I’m done,” Merida says quietly, pulling her hood over her hair.

-

The flight is long, but the Avengers are waiting on the tarmac when she walks out into the sunlight.

“They’re dead,” she says, as Steve wraps her in a hug.

“Your parents would be proud of you,” Steve says, with a watery chuckle. Merida just hides her face in his chest as the others join the hug, taking comfort from her family.

[flyingblackhawk]

Second Time Around

Clintasha (Blackhawk) domestic fic

725 words

- “Merida,” Clint called. Natasha settled back onto the couch, feeling a little heavy. Their daughter, now five, a flurry of energy and red curls, came barreling around the corner and into the lounge. She jumped onto her father’s lap. “Yes, Daddy?” she asked, wriggling. “We want to tell you something exciting,” Natasha announced. Merida squealed and clapped her hands, her eyes shining. “In six or seven months,” Clint began, bouncing his daughter gently on his knee. “You’re going to have a brand new brother or sister.” Merida beamed. “I want a sister!” she demanded. “Can we get a sister?” Clint chuckled. “We don’t get to pick, sweetheart. We get one or the other. It’s like a lucky dip.” “Where do we get my sister from?” Merida asked, directing her question at her mother. Natasha smiled. “Your little brother or sister-” “Sister,” Merida interrupted. Clint laughed. “Or sister,” Natasha continued. “Will grow inside Mummy until he or she-” “She.” “-is ready to be born,” Natasha concluded, smiling wryly. Merida grinned, apparently finding nothing strange about that. Clint and Natasha were secretly relieved that they wouldn’t have to explain the mechanics of pregnancy to their daughter just yet. - They decided, when asked by Bruce, that they wanted to wait and be surprised by the gender of the baby. Merida insisted that it was a girl, and went so far as addressing the bump as ‘Susan’, having decided that it was a pretty name. Natasha’s belly grew, and Merida began to have regular conversations with her growing sibling. Natasha and Clint watched happily as their daughter got used to the idea of having a new baby on the way. When Natasha had been pregnant with Merida, her cravings had been limited and not too strange. This time around, they were about as unpredictable as they got. She woke at two in the morning, too comfortable to move, but her mind wouldn’t let her sleep for the thought of celery and chocolate. She tried to ignore it for a while, but in the end her body won out and she rolled out of bed, hauling herself up awkwardly and padding into the kitchen. Clint came stumbling in to check if she was okay to find her nestled on the couch, dipping celery sticks into a bowl of chocolate sauce. He wrinkled his nose and settled down beside her, reaching over to try her strange treat. He immediately spat it back out, and she laughed at him. “Pregnancy is weird,” he complained, yawning and settling his head onto her shoulder. “Tell me about it,” she laughed, licking her lips. - When Clint brought Merida into the comfortable room to see the new baby, his daughter was very excited. When they told her that it was a boy, she refused to believe them, and continued to call the baby ‘Susan’, despite her parents’ insistence that his name was William. Over the next few days, Merida slowly became jealous of the new baby. Her parents and all her uncles were besotted with her sibling, who she was still convinced was a girl. She waited patiently, and plotted. Natasha woke up, and the baby was gone. Clint was asleep in the armchair beside the bed, but Natasha’s yelling woke him soon enough. Within ten minutes, everyone in the tower was searching for the baby. In the chaos, no one noticed that Merida was mysteriously missing as well. Clint eventually found them. Merida had waited until her parents were asleep, then she had carefully carried baby William up to her room. He lay with his head in her lap, gurgling happily as she made her toys fly over his head, chattering quietly to her brother. She had just wanted to play with her new sibling, without all the adults stealing him away from her. Clint watched for a few minutes before calling off the search and bringing Natasha to watch their kids playing. Eventually, Natasha explained gently to Merida that she couldn’t steal babies. Clint lifted his baby son carefully into his arms and Merida took her mother’s hand as they all went back to the bedroom and laid William in the cot by the bed. Merida followed her parents and climbed in between them. The three of them fell asleep in each other’s arms, with the baby cooing softly in his sleep.

[flyingblackhawk]

Letting go a little

Clintasha (Blackhawk) domestic fic

529 words

- “Mom,” Merida sighed, crossing her arms. “Stop being ridiculous.” “I’m not being ridiculous,” Natasha countered, mirroring her daughter’s posture. “You are not joining SHIELD.” “I’m old enough now, they induct recruits at sixteen,” Merida protested. “It’s like the cadets.” “It is nothing like the cadets,” Natasha snorted. Clint laid a hand on her shoulder. “Natasha,” he sighed. “She’s right. SHIELD will take her if she applies.” “Not without our consent,” Natasha corrected him, glaring dangerously at her partner. “Which they will not be getting.” “Mom,” Merida groaned. “Come on.” Natasha shook her head, her red curls bouncing. “Merida Barton, you are not becoming a SHIELD agent.” “Would you prefer that I ran off to South America or Africa to become a mercenary?” Merida threatened, her eyes dark. “Not helping yourself there,” Clint sighed at his daughter. “Dad said I could if I wanted to,” Merida continued. Natasha’s glare intensified, and Clint raised his hands in supplication. “All I said was that Fury would be lucky to have her on board,” he offered. He wasn’t doing himself any favours with Natasha, so he shut his mouth. “Come on, Mom,” Merida pleaded. “I never asked for a pony like all the other idiot girls in my class. I never dyed my hair, never stayed out late, I’ve been good, haven’t I? Can’t I ask for this, just this once?” “Think about what you’re asking me,” Natasha sighed, dropping onto the couch. Merida sat opposite her and Clint perched warily in the armchair. “This isn’t like asking me if you can go to some music festival or stay out late with your friends, you’re asking me to let you put yourself in danger, and I can’t do that.” “I wouldn’t be in-” “Merida,” Natasha snapped, her eyes blazing. “SHIELD is dangerous. Agents die all the time. Spying, espionage, killing, it’s a path that changes people. It’s a miracle that me and your dad are alive at all, really.” Merida’s eyes softened somewhat. “But it’s what I want,” she said quietly. “I know,” Natasha said. “But working for SHIELD... it’s not something you can just change your mind about one day. If you’re in, you’re in for good.” “I want it,” Merida insisted. “I never got to choose,” Natasha continued, and her hand crept across to rest atop Clint’s on the arm of the couch. “I was forced into this life, but you are so full of promise. If you go to Fury, you’re robbing yourself of the chance at a normal life.” “I’m your daughter,” Merida said, her eyes glistening slightly. “Why don’t you believe that I don’t want a normal life?” Natasha was silent for a long moment, and her daughter knew that she had broken through. “We’re coming with you,” she said quietly, and Clint laced their fingers together. Merida’s eyes lit up and she threw herself onto her mother, hugging her tight. “Thanks, Mom,” she whispered, kissing her on the cheek. She bounded out of the room, leaving Natasha to stare after her. “She’s going to be fine, Nat,” Clint assured her. “She’s your daughter, after all.” “Yes she is,” Natasha agreed, a proud smile ghosting across her lips.

[flyingblackhawk]

The Big Green Monster

Clintasha (Blackhawk) domestic fic, w. Bruce and the others

604 words

- They are all wandering back towards Stark Tower after a meal out. Natasha and Clint swing Merida between them, and their daughter giggles and squeals delightedly. Everyone is tired, and no one is on alert. The man swings out of the alley without any warning. Natasha and Clint are the closest, and the first to realize that he is carrying a gun. Before anyone can react, the stranger has grabbed Merida roughly from between her parents and is holding a gun to her tiny, fragile head, staring wildly at the frozen group. “Don’t move,” the mugger threatens, tightening his grip on Merida. The terrified girl begins to cry. Clint’s eyes are blazing, and Natasha’s fingers twitch, itching to draw her gun but terrified that he will shoot their daughter. “Okay,” Bruce says, his voice calm and soothing. He holds up his hands and takes a cautious step forward. “Money,” the mugger demands. Bruce slips his hand slowly into his pocket and brings out his wallet. He tosses it at the mugger’s feet, still looking straight at him. The mugger holds Merida tightly in one hand, and bends down to retrieve the wallet. It happens in an instant. Bruce’s face darkens, and the others see what is about to happen before it does. “Bruce, no!” Natasha screams. The mugger looks up, distracted for a moment, only to see the placid, soothing man transforming into a huge, green monster. Ungodly terror whips across the mugger’s expression. The Hulk roars, and he goes scrambling away, dropping his gun and disappearing. The rest of them are frozen as the monster grunts. The huge, green Hulk lies between the group and Merida. They all know too well what happens when Bruce Hulks out. There is no distinction between the protected and the prey. He is turning his rage-filled gaze on the six-year-old. The Hulk roars again, bellowing at Merida. Natasha screams, and Clint shouts, Tony and Steve yell at the same time, even Thor shouts a warning. The Hulk raises an impossibly large fist, over Merida’s head, and Natasha’s screaming rises in pitch- And Merida roars back. The tiny redhead, confronted with a massive, roaring monster - for the first time in her life - puffs herself up and roars, her tiny voice echoing along the street. The Hulk draws back, surprised, and there is a glint of recognition in his eyes. He reaches out again, and Natasha makes a terrified whimpering sound - but the Hulk scoops Merida up into his huge fist and gently brings her closer to his face, to examine her. To everyone’s shock, Merida giggles, and reaches out to ruffle the tufty black hair on the Hulk’s head. The Hulk smiles - smiles - at the six-year-old, and sets her back on the pavement. The green body begins to shrink, fading back to normal human size, until Bruce is left sitting on the pavement, in only the remnants of a tattered pair of trousers. Clint falls to his knees beside Merida, checking over her fussily, making sure she’s okay, while Natasha marches over to Bruce and punches him hard on the jaw. “Ow,” the scientist protests dully, holding his jaw. “You could have killed her,” Natasha hisses, her eyes blazing. “The gun could have killed her,” Bruce retorts. Merida escapes her father’s grip and runs to Bruce, flinging herself on him. “Uncle Bruce was green,” she giggles. “And he chased the bad man away.” Bruce laughs, and bounces her on his knee. Natasha relents, a tiny smile creeping onto her lips. “Next time anyone needs protecting,” Tony says, shaking his head. “We’re bringing her.”

[flyingblackhawk]

Daddy's home, but...

Clintasha (Blackhawk) domestic fic

617 words

- “Hello?” Natasha answered, pressing the phone to her ear. “Barton? Is that you?” “Natasha.” She recognized Agent Hill’s voice. “Clint’s been injured.” “Where is he?” she asked, her chest twisting. “Saint Anthony’s,” Maria replied. Natasha gripped the phone so hard she was in danger of cracking the casing. “How bad is it?” she asked, her voice hushed. “He’s conscious,” Maria told her. “But he’s in a bad way. I’d get here quickly, if I were you.” Natasha hung up, and began to search for her jacket. “Merida?” she called. “Sweetie, come here. We’re going out.” Her daughter barreled into the room, grinning at the prospect of going on a trip. Her little face fell as she saw her mother’s worried expression. “Momma, what’s wrong?” the girl asked, frowning. Natasha cursed herself for forgetting how perceptive her daughter was. “Sweetie,” she murmured, crouching in front of her child. “We have to go to the hospital, okay?” Merida screwed up her face in distaste. “No, I don’t like the hospital!” she pouted. “It’s not for you, sweetheart,” Natasha assured her, pulling her little duffel coat around her slim shoulders. “We’re going... to see Daddy.” Merida was quick to catch on, and her eyes widened. “Why is Daddy in the hospital?” she asked, a little quieter. “He’s... been hurt,” Natasha said, her throat closing up. Merida’s face crumpled. “Did the bad guys hurt Daddy?” she whimpered, pressing her face into her mother’s shoulder. Natasha picked her up, hugging her tightly. “Daddy’s going to be just fine,” she said, not sure if that was even true. “Come on, let’s go.” She led Merida out to the street and hailed a cab. Her daughter held her hand with a vice-like grip until they reached St. Anthony’s General Hospital. Natasha led Merida through the doors and went straight to the desk. “Clint Barton,” she said. The woman behind the desk gave her directions, and she made her way across the hospital, stopping only once to hoist Merida onto her hip. She finally arrived at a set of private rooms. Maria Hill was waiting outside one of the doors, and pushed it open for them, smiling faintly. Natasha carried Merida in, but her daughter buried her face in her mother’s shoulder. “I don’t wanna,” she said softly. Natasha soothed her, making soft hushing noises as they approached the bed. Clint was sleeping, slumped on his pillows. There was a tube feeding him oxygen, and an IV drip in his hand. He looked battered, and his shoulder was heavily bandaged, but he opened his eyes as they approached and gave a weak smile. “Hey, girls,” he croaked. Merida didn’t shift her face from Natasha’s shoulder as Nat leaned down and kissed Clint on the forehead. “It’s good to see you alive,” she whispered. Clint smiled faintly. “Merida?” he murmured, reaching out to stroke his daughter’s soft curls. “Sweetheart?” Merida turned slowly, looking scared. “Daddy,” she whispered back. Once she saw the tubes in his nose she recoiled a bit. “The bad guys hurt you.” “I hurt them more,” he chuckled, reaching out his arms to her. She shifted out of Natasha’s grip and crawled across the bed to nestle against her father. Clint wrapped his arms comfortingly around Merida and hushed her, kissing her head. “It’s okay,” he whispered, soothing both his daughter and Natasha. “Daddy’s going to be fine.” Natasha gripped his hand, her eyes meeting his in a silent agreement. He would always be okay. He had to be. Merida was asleep before long. They stayed that way, hands held, daughter cradled, until they had convinced themselves that everything was okay. Because even if it wasn’t, it would be, in the end.

[flyingblackhawk]

One or the Other

Clintasha (Blackhawk) fic

320 words

- “I just don’t fancy being pregnant for nine months,” Natasha complains. Clint laughs, and wraps her in his arms. They are alone on the couch in the lounge. Everyone else is asleep. “I think you’d look beautiful pregnant,” he grins, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Whatever,” she mutters. “I wouldn’t be able to go on missions.” “What makes you think you’d be able to go on missions looking after a newborn baby?” he asks. “You’re going to have to take leave, either way.” She sighs, frustrated. He frowns. “Nat, you know we don’t have to do this, right?” She shakes her head. “No, I know. I want kids, Clint, I just... I don’t know if I’m ready to be responsible for growing a child...” she bites her lip. “I’m not the most careful person when it comes to looking after my body.” Images of bruises, cuts, broken bones and blood flash before his eyes. “No,” he agrees. “But I’m sure you could learn.” She laughs at him. “Maybe. But Clint, we could adopt a kid who really needs a home. We could save a kid from a terrible life.” He nods. “That’s a point.” “We’d love our baby the same regardless of whether it was ours or someone else’s,” she says firmly. “Of course we would,” Clint assures her, nestling against her neck. She murmurs quietly, and tangles her fingers into his hair. “Just think though. Being pregnant would give you permission to order everyone around. You could yell at Tony and blame it on the hormones.” Her eyes light up slightly at that thought. “You have a point, Barton.” “You could eat whatever you liked.” “Keep going.” “I would be obliged to give you back rubs whenever you wanted them.” She laughs, snuggling into him. “Okay, Clint. I’ll think about it.” “Love you.” She just smiles, kissing him, before they snuggle into each other and drift off happily.

[flyingblackhawk]

Babysitting en masse

Clintasha (Blackhawk) domestic fic

674 words

- When Clint and Natasha asked if someone would babysit Merida, they didn’t expect Steve, Tony, Bruce and Thor all to immediately start squabbling over who got to take her. In the end, no one could win the argument, and Merida herself suggested that she could go to the park with all her uncles together. The Avengers accepted their babysitting duties eagerly, and Natasha and Clint left for their day trip slightly bemused at how a little five-year-old held that much sway over four superheroes. - Merida squealed as Thor lifted her up onto his shoulders. She clung onto his long hair as if it were a pair of reins, and beat her heels eagerly against his chest. All four of the men were dressed casually, and anyone walking down the street could mistake them for four ordinary - albeit well-built and largely imposing - men. The redheaded girl giggled as Thor bounced her on his broad shoulders. They reached the park and Tony took the lead in the World’s Best Uncle competition. “Ice cream, Merida?” he suggested. Merida slithered off Thor’s shoulders, landing gracefully on the ground in a crouch eerily reminiscent of her mother and ran to Tony, clinging to his legs. “Yes please, Uncle Tony,” she begged, looking up at him with wide, adorable eyes. Tony crouched, and she clambered up to ride piggyback, with her arms flung around his neck. Tony bought ice creams for everyone, and they sat on the grass, in the sun. “What do you want to do today, Merida?” Steve asked, as the girl wriggled happily, getting ice cream all over her face. “Zoo!” Merida exclaimed immediately. “I wanna go to the zoo!” “I also want to go to the zoo,” Thor agreed enthusiastically, drawing laughter from the others. “Your Midgardian animals are so fascinating.” “Right, the toddler and the demigod both vote zoo,” Tony chuckled. “All opposed?” No one made any objections, so once they were finished with the ice creams, they headed over to the zoo. Steve was Merida’s chosen mount for the time being, perched on his tall shoulders as she had been with Thor on the way to the park. However, when they reached the first enclosures, she abandoned him to walk beside Bruce, holding his hand and demanding to know facts about each animal they passed. Bruce did not disappoint, reeling off random facts about penguins, lions, baboons, anything she cared to ask for. Thor took the lead when he started telling her about Asgardian animals, and Merida ended up tugging on the sleeve of a zoo worker and asking why there weren’t any bilgesnipes at the zoo. Thor laughed along with the others as they hurried her away from the bemused zookeeper. They wandered slowly back to the tower, Merida choosing to ride on Tony’s back again, resting her head against the back of his neck wearily. When they arrived back home, she slid to the floor. “Can we watch a movie?” she asked, her big eyes pleading. There was a chorus of yeses as the Avengers piled onto the couch. Tony dimmed the lights and set up Happy Feet to play. As the movie began, the four men and Merida snuggled down on the couch to watch. - When Natasha and Clint arrived home, the movie was still playing, and the five of them were tangled together amongst blankets and pillows. Merida was fast asleep, sprawled across Steve’s lap. Her head was resting on Tony’s chest, and Tony was slumped down next to Steve. Thor was snoring lightly, still resting in a sitting position against the arm of the couch. Bruce was on the floor on a pile of cushions, his hand still loosely curled around Merida’s, which hung off the edge of the couch. The couple smiled for a while at the manly Avengers, snoring through Happy Feet and cuddling their little girl. Then they gently extricated their daughter from the tangle and put her to bed, both of them kissing her forehead before switching out the lights.

[flyingblackhawk]

Daddy's Girl

Clintasha (Blackhawk) domestic fic

400 words

- “Merida?” Natasha called, sticking her head into her daughter’s room. “Sweetie?” The five-year-old was nowhere to be seen. Natasha frowned, and headed out into the kitchen, then the lounge. She checked the entire floor of the tower on which they lived, but there was no sign of her daughter. Eventually, she went down a level to the gym, to see if she could find Clint and ask where Merida had disappeared to. She opened the doors, and was met with a strange sight. Merida stood to one side of the gym, holding a bow that seemed to fit her perfectly. On the other edge of the sparring mats sat a wooden target she had clearly painted herself. As Natasha watched, leaning against the door frame, Merida drew back an arrow with practiced ease, aimed carefully and released the bow string. The arrow zipped across the gym and thunked into the centre of the target. “Nice shot,” Natasha congratulated her. The redheaded girl jumped guiltily and tried in vain to hide the bow behind her back. “Thanks, Mommy,” she grinned hesitantly. “So how long has Daddy been teaching you how to shoot?” Natasha asked, smiling. “Since...” the five-year-old screwed up her face in concentration. “January.” That made it five months. Natasha laughed, and crouched in the doorway. “Come here.” Merida put the bow down carefully and raced into her mother’s arms. Natasha swung her up and sat her on her hip. “You’re getting heavy, little one,” she chuckled, smoothing out Merida’s tousled curls. “Come on, it’s lunchtime.” “Wait!” Merida exclaimed. “My bow!” She wriggled out of her mother’s arms and slid to the floor with a thump. She went to the weapon, clearly crafted just for her, probably by Stark, and picked it up almost lovingly. “I have to put him away properly,” the girl smiled. “Daddy said so.” Natasha raised her eyebrows. “He?” she repeated. “Your bow is a he?” “Charlie,” Merida explained patiently, as though her mother had said something stupid. “He’s called Charlie.” She went to a weapons rack at the side of the gym and unstrung the bow before placing it carefully on the rack. Natasha groaned, slumping against the doorway. Merida came back to her and grabbed her hand, leading her mother out of the gym. “You are so your Daddy’s little girl,” Natasha sighed, as she closed the door behind them.

[flyingblackhawk]

Welcome to the world

Clintasha (Blackhawk) fic

300 words

- They let him in half an hour after he arrives at the hospital. He has flown halfway around the globe to get here, and finally he is allowed in to see Natasha. The rest of the Avengers are all waiting outside, and they leap up to congratulate Clint as he walks past. He grins wearily, and follows the nurse through to a quiet room. Natasha is sitting in bed, propped up by a mountain of pillows. She looks exhausted, but is smiling down at the bundle in her arms. When Clint enters the room, she looks up at him and her smile widens. “Hey,” she murmurs. He goes to her, looking down. His daughter is sleeping in Natasha’s arms, her tiny fingers curling and uncurling in her sleep. Despite having promised himself that he would stay calm, Clint feels tears welling in his eyes. “Softie,” she teases him. He leans down and presses a kiss to his daughter’s forehead. “She’s beautiful,” he whispers. The baby wakes, her eyes fluttering open. She yawns like a kitten, stretching in her mother’s arms. “Yeah, she is,” Natasha says, her voice hushed. Clint reaches out to stroke the fuzz of red hair on his daughter’s head. A tiny hand reaches up and clasps his finger, and he watches, wide-eyed, as his daughter holds onto him. “Hey sweetheart,” he mumbles, biting his lip and gazing at her. “You want to hold her?” Natasha offers. Clint nods, and carefully lifts his baby out of Natasha’s arms. She weighs almost nothing, and falls asleep quickly as he rocks her. “What have you named her?” he asks, looking up. “Tasha?” Natasha is already asleep. Clint smiles, and tucks her in, kissing her brow. Then, he sits in the armchair beside her bed, and watches his daughter sleep.

[flyingblackhawk]

You what now?

Clintasha (Blackhawk) fic

428 words

- In the end, it’s Steve who finds out first. He is standing at the kitchen counter, listening as Natasha and Clint bicker over something or other, until he bursts out with an uncharacteristic interjection. “Why do you guys have to act like an old married couple?” he demands, crossing his arms. The pair of them throw him an irritated glance, but Clint’s is accompanied by a small smile. “Well I don’t know about old,” he says, shrugging. Steve doesn’t get it, and is waiting for the punchline. Natasha laughs. “What?” Steve demands, frowning. “We are married,” Clint answers simply. Steve’s jaw hits the floor. “You’re what?” he chokes. “Married,” Natasha supplies helpfully. “But you... you don’t... what?” Steve stammers. Clint chuckles. “We’re not really the rings and honeymoon type couple, you know?” Clint smiles pleasantly as they leave the kitchen. Steve takes a couple of moments before pulling out his phone and awkwardly tapping out a text to Tony. Did you know Barton and Romanoff were married???? Tony’s reply is almost instantaneous. ????? The genius arrives in the kitchen five minutes later, having sprinted all the way from the lab. “What?” he demands, as soon as he is in the same room as Steve. “What the hell? This isn’t a joke, is it, Rogers?” Steve shakes his head, still slightly shocked. “No. They told me. Just ten minutes ago.” “How the hell did we not know this?” Tony exclaims, thumping the table. Bruce chooses that moment to enter the kitchen, and raises an eyebrow at Tony. “Our favourite assassins got hitched,” Tony informs him. Bruce looks as surprised as they do. “When?” the scientist demands. Steve shrugs. “We have no idea,” he says. “I only found out a little while ago.” “Have we just been completely stupid or have they actively been hiding it from us?” Tony demands. “A bit of both,” Natasha answers from where she is standing in the door. All three men jump guiltily. “Sorry, Natasha,” Steve says, biting his lip. “We just... we didn’t know... it was surprising.” She laughs, shaking her head. “Don’t be too hard on yourselves. We’re spies, it was kind of classified information.” “Was?” Tony asks suspiciously. Natasha shrugs. “We decided that keeping secrets wasn’t so important anymore,” she said. Tony frowned. “Why would you-” His eyes widened slightly. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” She just grins at him, and saunters away. “You are, aren’t you?” Tony yells after her. She doesn’t reply. “Their kid is going to be terrifying,” Tony mutters. The other two just nod, then burst out laughing.

[flyingblackhawk]

What to Expect

Clintasha (Blackhawk) fic

500 words

- Tony has called them all together for a fancy dinner, with the promise of making an announcement. Clint and Natasha sit together, fingers brushing against each other’s as they listen to Tony tap on a champagne glass and stand up. “Thank you all for being here,” he says, sweeping an arm around the table. All the Avengers have assembled - though not in the manner they are used to. Even Thor is dressed up in a fancy suit, his long hair tied neatly back off his face. “The thing is,” Tony grins, and grabs Pepper’s hand. “We’re going to have a baby.” The table erupts in a roar of congratulations, and everyone descends on the couple. Natasha notices Clint’s adorable sappy grin, but doesn’t bring it up until hours after dinner is done and they are back home, lying in bed. “Do you want children?” she murmurs, resting her chin on his chest to look up at him. He shrugs. “Only if you do.” “Clint,” she grumbles, slapping his chest lightly. “Tell me.” “Okay,” he sighs. “Yes, I want kids.” “How many?” “Three,” he replies, without hesitating. It’s his conviction that lets her know he’s been thinking about this for a while. “Three boys?” she asks, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Two boys and a girl,” he replies. “I always picture two boys and a girl.” “She’d be outnumbered,” Natasha points out, walking her fingers idly across his chest and back. “She’d be your daughter,” he chuckles. “You think she wouldn’t be able to handle two brothers?” She laughs lightly. “What else have you dreamed up for us?” He sits up slightly, dragging her with him. He wraps his arms around her shoulders, pressing her into him. “A house,” he smiles. “On a quiet street somewhere nice. A place to raise our children.” “What makes you think I’d ever give in to the suburban life?” she chuckles. “Because you love me,” he teases, kissing the top of her head. “Haven’t you ever thought about having kids with me?” “No,” she replies obstinately, a smile creeping onto her lips again. “You have,” he accuses, nuzzling into her hair. “Admit it.” “Okay, fine,” she grins. “I’ve thought about it. But Clint, I’m not mother material.” “Rubbish,” he retorts. “You’d be the most kickass mom ever.” “I don’t want to let you down,” she admits softly. “Have kids with me,” he smiles. “Clint, I don’t know how to be a parent.” “Have kids with me.” “Clint.” “Have kids with me, Natasha.” “Fine!” she exclaims, wriggling around to face him. “I’ll have kids with you, Barton, just shut up, will you?” He laughs aloud, and kisses her hard. She pulls back, chuckling. “Like, right now?” she asks, concerned. “Go to sleep, my dear,” he smiles, kissing her on the forehead. She sighs, and snuggles into his chest, snaking her arms around him. “Forget brothers,” she murmurs, as they drift off to sleep. “Our daughter will be able to kick your ass.”