Summary; You return home from a mission straight into Clint's arms.
Pairing; Clint Barton x Female Reader
WordCount; 509
Warnings; None sexual nudity, mentions of injury.
A/N; Requests are open. Request guidelines are at the top of my page.
Credit to @cafekitsune for the banner and divider
Two weeks. The mission was supposed to last a couple of days; a week tops had lasted fourteen long exhausting days. Banged up, exhausted and in dire need of your bed. You dragged your feet off the plane and into the Avengers Tower.
You had never been more relieved to be home. No one could have prepared for Hydra to be one step ahead. The intel had been solid initially but as with anything all hell broke loose.
Fumbling with the lock on your door, you sighed. You couldn't see to locate the lock. As your fingers struggled with the keys, the door opened, revealing someone you were dying to see.
"Sweetheart, your back?" Clint wrapped his arms around you tightly, clinging you to him. Familiarity, as you were surrounded by Clint's woodsy scent and warm body. Your muscles relax instinctively. You were home; everything had aligned itself into order once more.
"What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at home." Clint picked up your bag, as he stepped back leading you into the apartment.
"Tony informed everyone you were on the way home. I had to come to meet you. Let me draw you a bath." You followed Clint into the bathroom. Finding a seat on the toilet seat. You lived for moments like this after a mission; normalcy. Neither of you uttered a word as the running water echoed off of the tiled walls.
"Here honey, let me help you get your suit off" Your muscles screamed in protest as you rose. Clint worked with a practiced ease. This was not the first time and it wouldn't be the last. Since you'd joined the team it had become a ritual of sorts.
As Clint pulled away your suit, the extent of your encounter with Hydra was apparent. Your body is scattered with bruises and grazes. Clint examined your body, but Clint never said anything. Neither of you did. Whenever either of you returned home from a mission, it became a part of reconnecting and repairing.
"join me?" You asked, Clint didn't need to be asked twice. He hated seeing you both physically and mentally exhausted. he'd also missed you. Home wasn't home when either one of you wasn't there.
Clint settled into the bath first, spreading his legs so you could sit in between them.
The moment your body touched the water, your aching muscles began to relax into the water's enticing hug.. Leaning back onto Clint's chest, you sighed as his arms tightened around you.
"I finally finished the kitchen. Everything's back in place. You can bake Nat the cookies she's been bugging me about"
"I'll get on those when we get home. She's had to wait longer than expected. Have you decided on another project?" Clint pressed a kiss into the curve of your neck.
"Yeah. I've decided we need to change the bath so this can be a regular thing outside of the Tower. But first what do you say we get away from a couple of days."
"Yeah I'd love that"
You blew a raspberry at your boyfriend as he told you he was off to a mission. You’d gotten hurt on the last one… to the point that Bruce doubted he’d be comfortable with you going in any again. You were pretty upset and even more so now as you realized you wouldn’t get that extra time with your boyfriend. There was no telling if a mission would be days… or weeks at times.
“I’ll text as often as I can.” He promised. “And I hope I’ll be home soon.”
“Yeah.” You pouted, arms crossed. “Come home in one piece.” You said softly. The last thing you wanted was to lose him.
He leaned down as you were on the couch and kissed your forehead. “Can I get a kiss for the road?” He asked sweetly. “Pleaseeeee.”
You looked at him and nodded. “Of course.” You reached up to dip his face and kissed him gently. “I’ll miss you.” You cupped his cheek.
“I’ll miss you, more.” He grinned. “Don’t get too comfortable without me okay? I know you’ll enjoy not picking up my clothes and my towels but remember you love me.” He said playfully. “And how fun I am.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m already cherishing the quiet.” You teased. “Now go before Thor comes and carries you out.” You chuckled at the thought. “I love you.”
“Love you!” He beamed and rushed out, duffle on his back. Sooner he left, the sooner he got back.
Letting out a deep breath, you started scrolling your Instagram. You didn’t have a routine, as you weren’t used to being left without Clint. Maybe you could binge watch shows - but practically everything you watched with him and you knew he’d be offended. Your friend reposted something about gaming that caught your attention.
You eyed it, humming as you read through the post. “I like legos.” You told yourself. Leaving Instagram, you went straight to Amazon. Why leave when you didn’t have to? You typed in what you wanted, happy you lived in the big city so it would be delivered that afternoon. You’d ordered an Xbox One X and 4 games.
You stuck your tongue out as you connected the Xbox to the tv, buzzing with excitement. Hopefully this was not only something you could do while they were gone, but something Clint would enjoy, as well. You hoped for game date nights. The thought made you excited. As it loaded, you took a selfie for him and sent it. I have a surprise for when you come home, Hawkman 😉💕
You went to sit down with the controller as you watched the screen. It had updates, which was understandable. You were excited when the games title page came on, choosing between characters slowly as you learned. Gaming wasn’t ever really something you’d been into.
You admitted to yourself that it was a learning curve as you played. “Mother f—“ you muttered as you died. Again. “Again!” You told yourself. “I got this.”
You focused on the screen and pushing buttons once again. Hearing your phone ding, you told yourself they could wait for a minute. You were so close on this level. You had been stuck on it for nearly an hour at this point. When you lost, you sighed heavily, angrily unlocking your phone. You smiled softly when you saw it was Clint. Ohhhh sexy surprise?
Since you find everything sexy, possibly ;) you teased.
Then please give me a hint? You could picture him batting his eyelashes. Pretty please?
You eyed the controller, wondering how you could give him a hint. Biting your lip, you replied. I use my hands and it makes me swear 😜
He took a minute. Well damn, honey! You grinned at that, chuckling. Way to make a man’s mind wander. He added. So mean lol
At least you knew he was in a good mood at the moment. I can’t wait to show you!! You really couldn’t. Now you just wanted to get better. Either way you were having a blast. Even if your boyfriend was calling you mean. I need to go practice… I’ll text you later! 🥰
Clint groaned at your reply, letting your head fall back. . You were a tease and a flirt, and he loved that but he couldn’t do anything about it miles and miles away. It would be a very long mission, hopefully with a very warm welcome home. He hated that you weren’t there by his side, but he knew he hated seeing you hurt, more. This way you were safe.
“Missing your better half?” Nat nudged her best friend. “You’re all but pouting.”
“I am. But I know it’s better.” He sighed. “At least she’s safe.” He said, reminding himself.
She nodded. “Time away is nice, too.” She gave him a small smile. “Don’t they say it makes the heart grow fonder?”
“I guess. But you work beside your other half.” He pouted.
“She don’t give me nothing on missions, man.” Sam said across from them. “Except maybe orders.” He chuckled, teasing Nat.
“At least.” Clint huffed.
By that night, you felt you had a pretty good grasp at the game, and felt proud of yourself. It had become a great pastime already. You could understand why people got so into it.
You finally fell asleep late that night, already looking forward to playing tomorrow. You’d tried out your first game- Mortal Combat XL, and planned to try another. It was exciting to have a new hobby.
The next morning, you quickly showered and ate before texting Clint that you loved him. You then set up your new game, grinning as you felt this one you’d really enjoy. You’d put in the comfiest pair of his sweat pants and a baggy shirt to relax in all day.
Clint texted around noon, just a kissy emoji, which meant he was busy or sent it before crashing for the night wherever he was. You sent one right back, knowing that he was okay at that moment. It helped your nerves a tad.
Right after he got your kissy emoji, he was out. Face down on some cot, arm hanging off the side. Sure, they had places to charge their phones in the place they were staying, but an actual bed would have been pushing it. He yearned for a hot shower as well. With you, preferably.
When he woke again, he wiped his face of the drool and sighed as his muscles hurt. Groaning, he sat up and rolled his shoulders. He reached around for his phone and sighed in relief when he saw he heard from you. It helped make this suck just a tad less. It was a selfie of you making a face at him. He loved you so much and was grateful for you, but now he needed a cold shower. Which was all that he would be getting.
You giggled at Clint’s reply later that day to your selfie. He no doubt was struggling, and you knew you’d give him a great welcome home. You planned to make him a nice dinner, too.
Once you replied, wishing him the best, you clicked play on your game. Hopefully this would make time fly by, and he’d be home in the blink of an eye.
As the days went by, you quickly found yourself mastering some of the games. Which led you to buying some others that caught your eye...and then a game caught your eye that was PS4 only. “Rude.” You frowned and sighed, then shook your head. “Screw it.” You muttered. You had the money, and missions were a no go for you. Why not indulge in your new hobby.
Not long after you ordered the system, a couple games, the VR set, and the PlayStation move. You couldn’t wait to try everything out. It would be there first thing the next morning. For the meantime, you reorganized the entertainment cent to accommodate for the new things. Which led you to reorganizing the room you shared with Clint completely. It was a lot of work, but would look way better. “Do I want to get new sheets for when he comes home?” You asked yourself. You nodded after a moment, feeling that would be nice. He would like that, too.
You wanted things to be perfect since this seemed to be a long mission. You couldn’t help on the mission, so you’d help after. The rest of the team also knew they were welcomed if they needed patching up or company. Nat was one of your best friends, too. Maybe you’d have a gathering the week after they were back. Then steal her, Pepper (who was likely catching up on work with Tony gone), and Wanda for a girl’s day.
You’d get more controllers too for those games that could play more. You were very excited.
You were focused on your new PS4 game when Clint managed to call. Pausing it, you answered as fast as you could. It had already been a week of him gone. “I miss you!” You told him.
“I know.” He chuckled tiredly. “I miss you, too. I was able to get a secure connection real quick.” He explained. “I’m cool and I love you.” You could just picture the look on his face.
You smiled. “Thank you for calling. I love you!” You put the controller down and got up. While you chatted with him, you’d get yourself something to drink. “Any guesses how much longer?”
“No idea.” He sighed. “Can only hope it’s soon. My back hurts!” He nearly whined. “And you’re not here. Which is bittersweet.”
“I know. But I’ll give you the best welcome back ever!” You promised. “I have started planning!”
“As long as it involves snacks and you, sounds great.” He chuckled. “Mostly you.”
You giggled. “It will.” You assured. “No injuries?” You’d always worry about your team.
“Nothing major.” He said softly. “Nothing broken, no major wounds.”
“Good to hear.” You sighed in relief. “Keep it that way, mister.” You said playfully. “I need my archer in one piece.”
“Yes, ma’am.” You could picture him saluting. “Talk to you soon, babe.” He knew his connection wouldn’t last long.
“Bye, stay safe.” You said softly, sad to be saying bye. Hopefully he’d be home soon. Sighing, you grabbed one of your reusable water bottles from the fridge. You leaned against the counter, wondering what the team was doing. Taking a sip of your water, your mind wandered. You quickly went back to your game when your mind wandered too far. You didn’t need to make yourself picture losing one of them.
You set up your new gaming chair a week later, having bought it along with a computer system. And a really nice desk. It had been nice to splurge. You’d also got a couple gifts for Clint at the same time, and planned to hide them in his nightstand. Your entire place looked different now, but you hoped he liked it. He had texted you a few times over the past week, but all it did was make you want your boyfriend home. Now. His last text said they would be home no sooner than the following week.
You sat on the chair, smiling at how comfortable it was. It had taken you three hours of reading reviews to finally choose one, and that had not been time wasted. You clicked on your computer just as it finished its updates. Now to install what you wanted.
It took majority of the day, but you remained excited as you had over these few weeks with all these new games to try. You’d used the downtime to do some workouts, not wanting to get out of shape. It had been a nice balance. The games helped you mentally not feel as bad about not being there to help the people you cared about.
You slipped on your headset and got immersed in the newest game. Anything to avoid thinking of the worst case scenario.
You were making dinner, hoping Clint text you soon as you hadn’t heard from him in a couple days. Which, of course, worried you. You were constantly checking your phone. You were afraid you’d miss it. And then you’d both be upset.
When your phone rang, you squeaked and answered it quickly. “Babe!” Your face lit up.
“Hey.” He chuckled, sounding exhausted. “Missed your voice. What day is it?” He asked. “Because I honestly don’t know.”
“Thursday.” You said softly. “Long few days?” It had to have been for him to not know what day it was.
“Yeah.” He said simply. “But good news is I’ll be home soon.” Even with how tired he sounded, you could hear the happiness in his voice. “Probably day after tomorrow.” He chuckled as you squealed. “Pretty much my reaction.”
“I’ll make sure you have something to eat when you get home and I’ll run you the hottest shower!” You promised. “And make sure we have that lotion you like so I can give you a massage!”
“As long as you’re there, I’m game for anything.” He chuckled. “I may crash as soon as I’m home, though.”
“That’s okay. I’ll crash with you.” You smiled. “I want all the cuddles!” You leaned against the counter. “Any dinner requests?”
“Anything. I had one of those reserve packs and it tasted like cardboard. And I would know.” He sighed. “You could make me a peanut butter and jelly and I’d be happy.”
“Well I’ll make sure it’s better than that.” You giggled. “You deserve it!”
“And lots of kisses?” He asked, hopeful.
“It’s been a month!”
“All the kisses you want.” You said easily. “It has been too long.” You easily agreed as the timer for your food went off. “Maybe next weekend we can go on a date?”
“Yes, ma’am!” He said as excitedly as he could. “That would be nice.”
“Then we’ll plan for that.” You assured. You were looking forward to that. Moving to the stove, you shut off the timer and the burner.
“Great.” He yawned. “Well I’ll see you and your cute butt soon. Love you.” He felt a bit better now. “Send me a picture?”
“Okay.” You said with a grin. “Love you. I’ll be here when you come home.” You promised before the two of you hung up. A moment later, you took a selfie for him and sent it. You were excited to see him. Once you sent I’d, you played your food to eat.
You set clean clothes out for Clint as he was due at anytime now. You had showered that morning and did your hair and makeup. Getting a text he was running a bit late, you sighed. “Fiiiiiine.” You went and got on your Xbox one and loaded up your LEGO superhero game that featured your teammates. It amused you to no end. Especially since your favorite character to play was a surprise.
Getting comfortable in your gaming chair (the kind that didn’t have legs and could rock), you got sucked into your game.
Clint sighed as he walked through the door, ready for a hot shower and a long ass nap with you. He gave the others a half wave, yawning. He’d see them again at some point when everyone was rested. It would probably be a day or two.
He let his duffles drop before hearing the sounds coming from the TV. He arched a brow and went to the main room. He made his way over, his eyes going from you, to the tv. “You’d rather play with Iron Man than me?!” He gasped, making you jump and let out a small scream.
Once you took a deep breath, you smiled and went to hug him. “Clint!”
He just stayed staring at the TV. “This is so wrong.” He pouted. “I feel betrayed!” He said dramatically. “You’re playing with Tony !”
“Technically, Iron Man.” You smiled at how cute he was when he pouted. You kissed his chin.
He whined. “Was I not good?” He asked, looking at you. “Was I... boring?!”
You giggled. “Want to try it? It’s two player. And I got you your own controller!” You said excitedly.
He licked his lips, looking around to finally see all the gaming equipment. “Jesus, babe!” He chuckled. “Did you buy out a store?” He teased.
“Probably over time.” You nodded. “I wanted a hobby!” You shrugged. “And I needed something to keep my mind off worrying.”
nd you chose gaming? Cool.” He nodded. “Not a bad one to choose. Why don’t you show me everything?” He held you close.
You nodded, super excited as you went through all your buys in order. He watched you with a loving look on his face as you told him about each game.
He suddenly kissed your cheek and smiled at you. “Love you. Continue on.” He motioned. It was clear that you found something you really enjoyed.
You giggled shyly but continued. “I can’t wait to play all these with you!” You hoped it was something else the two of you could bond over.
“Same.” He hugged your waist. “Only if you don’t play as Tony though.” He teased.
Hi! I have a couple of requests, but of course, please don’t feel rushed and take your time on these!
• Newt x Reader (The Maze Runner): The reader is introduced to Ava, and Ava takes a liking to the reader. She gives the reader “special treatment” but it’s just a plan to get information out of the gladers and to use her. Ava tries to use the reader a a test subject but the boys & teresa get there just in time. (Didn’t realize how long that was, I’m so sorry!!!)
• Eric Coulter x Reader: The reader is a new found leader with Eric and Four. Some of the boys try to hit on her but Eric gets a little protective
• Clint Barton x Reader: Clint introduces you to the team as his girlfriend
hi! the newt and eric fics are linked in my masterlist :))
masterlist
Your boyfriend may be the one risking his life every day when he’s out fighting alongside his team, but you swear that you’re more nervous now than he’s ever been. You’re not taking on alien threats, nor sentient robot killing machines, but something worse. You have to meet the Avengers.
You’ve already been agonizing over this hopeless turn of events for a solid hour by the time Clint finally intervenes. He stands up from his seat in the corner of the room and walks over to you, gently taking your hands to stop your frenetic pacing.
“Y/N, it’s going to be alright, I promise. They’re going to love you.”
You eye him suspiciously. “Do you really know that, though? What if they’ve been lying to you about their ‘meeting girlfriends’ policies?”
Clint chuckles. “Love, I’m an agent. I’ve been monitoring these guys for years. Trust me, I know exactly what their standards are, and I also know that you exceed all of them by a long shot.”
You arch a brow. “Do I, though?”
He smiles. “Yes, you do. Honestly, I would be more worried about you being disappointed with them. I think most of them are kind of boring, barring Nat of course.”
You nod solemnly. “Nat is my favorite. Barring you, of course.”
Clint’s smile grows sarcastic. “Ha, ha. I should hope so.”
You smile as well, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “Always. Now, when are we going again?”
The answer is now, right now. You’re allowed one final grace period of five minutes or so to panic, then collect yourself and head to the door with Clint. He tucks your hand into his arm like he’s a proper gentleman, which makes you laugh. Nothing about Clint has ever been proper, especially not the fact that he makes his living by shooting people with arrows like he’s a real life Robin Hood.
Still, the aforementioned Robin Hood activities are what led to you meeting him in the first place. It had happened during the battle of New York, when he and his team were fighting against the Chitauri. Clint had saved your life, then accidentally turned up at a coffee shop a few days later at the exact same time as you.
Rather than ignore the man who made sure you weren’t yet another one of the missing, you stayed and talked with him, and now you’ve been dating for what could either be a matter of months or forever.
You’ve known all along what dating an Avenger would entail, and it certainly stresses you out whenever he has to go to war against the latest global threat, but you’ve never had to worry about meeting the others. Nat already took it upon herself to talk with you after she learned you were dating Clint, but you didn’t mind that.
Spending time with the entire team at once, though, is a completely different story. You’re not going to pretend that you haven’t had imposter syndrome at least a couple times as it relates to your relationship with Clint. Why should an Avenger, especially a spy that’s seen so much of the world, want to date a civilian?
Clint still manages to convince you of it every day. There’s a certain quiet to his expression whenever he’s with you, a peace that isn’t there whenever he comes home from work at the Avengers complex. It’s like you can see the tension unraveling from his limbs the longer he’s with you. You remind him that he’s human, Clint says, that he has something to fight for other than the nameless world. You make him want to keep coming back, day after day, just so he can chase that feeling of not being alone.
You can only hope that the Avengers pick up on that, too. Clint drives you over to the complex, and you spend the ride staring out of the windows, trying to practice what to say. You know how to talk to Natasha, obviously, she’s practically a sister to you now, but what about the others? How do you relate to Tony Stark, for goodness’ sake?
Before you know it, Clint is pulling into a parking space, and walking around the car to open your door. You walk with him to the door, then stand silently in the elevator as it ferries you up to your doom.
Just before the elevator arrives, Clint faces you one last time. “Remember, you’re going to be fine. I promise you, these guys are more scared of meeting you than you are of meeting them. They’ve probably been planning out their first impressions for days.”
You manage a weak laugh. “I don’t think Thor, God of Thunder, really has to worry about making a mortal think he’s cool.”
Clint arches a brow. “You’d be surprised. He’s already asked me what your favorite flower is at least twice.”
You grin. “And what did you tell him?”
Clint harrumphs. “I didn’t tell him anything. I won’t have a Norse deity trying to steal my girlfriend away from me.”
You laugh. “He couldn’t if he tried. I’m here to stay.”
A satisfied smile crosses Clint’s face. “Oh, I know, I just like hearing you say it.”
You elbow him in the side. “Mean.”
He laughs quietly just as the doors slide open with a crisp ding. You feel the butterflies in your stomach start to surge about again, all flapping wings and rising heartbeats, but one glance over at Clint and you’re able to calm yourself again. You have every right to be here.
Clint leads you down a set of corridors and into a wide open space full of floor to ceiling windows and friendly lighting. There are couches and chairs sprawled in a half circle, some the same industrial upholstery as every other piece of furniture in the complex, and others that seem as if they’ve been dragged here from apartments and attic sales for the sheer goal of making the facility seem livable.
A small crowd of heroes sits clustered on the various chairs, but they stand when they see you and Clint approach. As expected, Tony Stark is the first one to speak. He eyes you curiously, as you could be harboring moving gears and sparking wires, something that could endear you to him.
“So, you’re Y/N. I have to say, I feel betrayed. I thought Katniss over here would either be dating an agent or an arrow, but you’re very normal.”
You smile. “I think that’s a compliment, so thank you.”
He flashes you a disarming grin. “Always a compliment. Barton says that one of my greatest strengths is building other people up. He’s a big fan of mine.”
Clint coughs pointedly. “I don’t remember saying anything of the sort.”
“Nonsense,” Natasha says, materializing out of the corner of the room to head your way, “I can picture him saying that all the time. Don’t you agree, Y/N?”
You laugh, throwing your arms around the redhead’s shoulders. “Absolutely.”
Bruce Banner frowns from where he hovers at the very outskirts of the commotion. “Wait, Natasha, I didn’t realize you knew Y/N. I thought she’d never met any of us before.”
Nat grins. “I would never pass up the opportunity to question the girl dating my closest friend. I will have you know that she’s passed all of my tests.”
You raise a brow. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Steve Rogers crosses the room next, holding his hand out so the two of you can shake like reputable businessmen. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”
From across the room, Tony shouts something in agreement as he reaches for a small glass in a wood lacquered cabinet. “Tell me about it. I’ve never heard Barton say so much in years, specifically when he isn’t complaining. You want a drink?”
This last part is directed at you, but you shake your head. “I’m fine, thanks. I think I want all my wits about me in this crowd.”
Clint chuckles. “Damn right. If you’re not careful, Banner and Stark will talk you into signing up to volunteer in their labs. If they offer you a tour, back away slowly.”
Bruce frowns. “We only had one explosion while you were there. I don’t see why that makes you want to warn your girlfriend away.”
Clint exchanges a look with you. “Yeah, I can see I was overreacting when I had to pick shards of test tubes out of my armor for days afterward. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
You just laugh. “Consider me warned. Is there anything else I should know before plunging myself into danger?”
A deep voice sounds from down the hall, and moments later, a tall, blond figure emerges into the room. “Only that you shouldn’t walk away from this place without getting the chance to know all of us. I, for one, am quite delighted to meet you.”
Your smile broadens, partially at the spoken sentiment and also at the look of consternation flickering across Clint’s face when he hears Thor’s declaration. Your boyfriend has always been good at maintaining a poker face, but this may be testing him a little too well.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Thor. How’s Asgard?”
He inclines his head gravely. “It is a wonderful place, as always. Perhaps I could show you sometime soon.”
Clint cocks his head to the side. “You’ve never offered any of us that chance.”
“Not all do you deserve it,” Thor says blandly. It takes everything in you to not burst out laughing at the faces of every Avenger in this room.
However, funny or not, you do owe it to your boyfriend to stand by him. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve already sworn to go on a trip with Clint over the next couple of days. I don’t want to miss out on our time together, so I’m afraid I’ll have to put Asgard on hold for the time being.”
Thor seems to accept this, and claps Clint on the shoulder. “A worthy response. The two of you are good for each other. I can see it.”
With that, the god leaves the room again, leaving the remaining Avengers and yourself to stare at each other with mirror expressions of bafflement and humor.
Tony breaks the silence at last. “Well, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t interesting around here. I may never understand him, but who does?”
You grin. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”
Looking around at the assembled heroes, you think you can understand why Clint chose to stay on the team instead of going back to being a solo S.H.I.E.L.D. agent once more. It isn’t just because he wants chances to protect the people of this world, he’d get that as an agent, too.
It’s because of this team, the Avengers. There is a sense of belonging that ties all of them together, even when they’re poking fun at each other. No reason they’re always able to fight and win their battles, even despite terrible odds. In a place like this, with a team like this, anyone would feel inspired to give their all.
You’re glad that you went with Clint to meet the team, even though you were nervous at first. This is his family, in a way. Now, it’s yours, too. That sounds pretty good to you.
Plot: After returning home from a mission Y/n and Clint settle in for the night, with the one thing they love the most. Being in each others arms.
Mystery Prompts Request: 'Comfortable drifting into sleep.' Genre: Feel Good/Fluff
Requested by: @meganlpie (this was from the mystery prompts from ages ago.)
Dropping your bags onto the floor as soon as you got into the house, you let out a sigh of relief. Clint, coming behind you let out a loud sigh, glad to finally be home after hours of travel back home, "Home sweet home."
You smiled "I feel like we've been gone for ages." You commented as you turned the lights on, and walking into the house fell face first onto the sofa with a grunt.
Clint smiled in amusement as he watched you. Locking the door behind him, he set his own bags down, not wanting to deal with them at the moment. Walking over to you he tapped your feet, "Come on, let's head to bed."
He heard your muffled groan before you whined, "Too tired."
"Too tired to go to bed?" He chuckled out and you nodded your head in response.
He smiled at you fondly before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the back of your head. Sitting on the coffee table, he grabbed your legs, and untying your shoes, slipped them off. "Okay, come on." He said with a grunt as he began to pull you up.
You let out a whiny groan in response, making him chuckle. Finally getting you sitting up, he pulled off your jacket. Picking you up in his arms, you immedietely wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck.
Clint smiled to himself as he carried you to the bedroom. He knew the mission the two of you had been on took a lot out of the both of you, but you more so it seemed. Though this was not necessarily something knew between the two of you. He had carried you to the bedroom many times before, in similar situations, and not so similar situations.
Entering the bedroom, he set you on the bed, but you refused to let him go. "Come on babe, lie down, time for bed."
Letting out a childish sigh, you let go of him before dropping down onto the bed. As he began to move away, your hand clasped his. You looked at him, and seeing the silent complaint in your eyes he chuckled. "I'll be right back." He said as he walked away, pulling his hands from yours, though reluctantly.
Lying in the bed for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, you finally found the energy to get up. And after changing into your pajamas you climbed into the bed. You waited for Clint to come back, forcing yourself to stay awake until he came back, wanting nothing more than to be in his arms.
After he finally came back, from what you assumed was him turning the lights off and checking the house, you watched as he changed into his own pajamas before finally climbing into the bed beside you. Wasting no time, you immedietely turned over, and wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his chest.
He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you a bit closer before placing a kiss to your head and let out a satisfied sigh. "What do you want to do tomorrow?" He asked softly.
You thought about it for a moment, knowing you had the next few days off. You hummed under your breath before answering, "This."
He smiled to himself as he gently ran his fingers up and down your arm, "That sounds like a good plan." He said softly.
Leaning up, you pressed a kiss to his neck before cuddling closer to him and closing your eyes tightly as you breathed out. You felt your whole body begin to relax as you let your exhaustion take over. Breathing in Clint's familiar scent, the woodsy cologne with a hint of mint, you felt your thoughts go blank as you slowly drifted to sleep in Clint's arms, glad to finally be home.
xx End xx
Super short, but I hope you liked it!
If you'd like to be added to be 'Everything', Marvel, and/or my Clint Barton taglist, let me know~
Procrastination or Progression?; Clint Barton x teen reader
*Author’s note*
Alrighty first I want to say to @06gal for being SUPER patient with me and for this great request. So for the Avenger member I’ve chosen, I’ve decided to use our beloved Archer CLINT BARTON cause the man deserves more love and I’m super glad that HAWKEYE gave us that. Hopefully in the future I’ll come up with more Clint Bartons fics or people will come forth and ask for more Barton fics who knows.
And also in light of FINAL EXAM time (trust me I’ve been there my people) I figured this fic and their request will help you guys out in getting through these stressful times before your WELL DESERVED summer vaca! (enjoy it while it lasts cause once you get a job, that’s not happening). But enough of that, and on with the fic! Enjoy my lovelies!
Okay this is it! Come on girl you got this! Woo let’s do this! Gonna study up for my Spanish final, gonna pass it, and then gonna graduate and get that scholarship to Columbia University. I break out the flashcards, get the study guide, open up my books (everything at this point is sprawled out on my floor like a crime scene) and thus I begin my studying.
And I study, and study….and study. However now that I’m learning about the traveling section of my Spanish final, I’m starting to grow bored. I looked at my clock and saw that I had been studying for about ten minutes so far.
“Okay, seems like a good time to take a break anyways.” I said stretching myself out and got up from the floor. “God!” the numbness in my butt for sitting on a hardwood floor starting to spark up. I sat against my bed trying to rub the numbness away with a comforting mattress. “Perhaps I should look into getting some carpets. Or at least put down a pillow or something.”
I left my room and headed straight for the kitchen to grab some water (gotta stay hydrated while studying right?) and there I saw dear old man Barton on the couch just flipping through the channels.
“Channel surfing again?” I teased as I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.
“More like stream surfing. Jesus all these shows on all these platforms and I can’t decide what to watch.” I walked over to him and rested up against the couch but to also give him a hug. “And what’s that for?”
“What can’t I hug my favorite Avenger?” I asked.
“Hang on, let me call Murdock and get him over here.” I playfully punched his shoulder and told him.
“You know he’s not an Avenger.”
“Still doesn’t change the fact he’s your favorite. I mean really (n/n) he’s a vigilante, they play by their own rules.”
“Now hold on don’t we as heroes play by our own rules against the government?”
“Touché but still there’s a difference between heroes and vigilantes.”
“Kinda being a hypocrite right there, aren’t yah?”
“Shut up kid.” I cackled softly and hugged him again.
“But seriously Clint. You know you’ve always been my favorite. After all you were the one to find me out on the streets shortly after I got my mind-reading powers.”
“Even if you weren’t a super-powered human, seeing you having a panic attack on the street and no one checking up on you was still a dick move.”
“And that’s why you’re my favorite. Tony wouldn’t dare do such a thing, Steve might but he could’ve been a little too overbearing which would’ve made my panic attacks worse.”
“Luckily for him you’ve been schooling him on proper panic attack after-cares. Which has also helped his friend Bucky out a lot.”
“Just thought I’d properly educate the old man especially since back then they didn’t really believe in them, at least medically they didn’t.”
“Hey don’t you have that Spanish final coming up? Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”
“I am. I just came down here to get some water.”
“¿Qué has estudiado hasta ahora?” he asked me in Spanish as he turned to me with a brow quirked, almost like he didn’t believe me.
“Saludos basicos, ocupaciones laborales y ahora viajes.” I replied back sassily.
“Okay I believe you. Damn sometimes I wish I had Murdock’s freaky enhanced hearing to know when you’re lying or not.”
“They’re not freaky and they’ve saved your ass on that one mission we crossed with him involving Kingpin.”
“First off I’m telling Steve you said a bad language word. And secondly no need to rub it in. You know my hearing aid was acting on the fritz that week.”
“Yeah, yeah sure. Geez and I thought Steve and Barnes were the ones with hearing problems, you know being over 100 years old and all.”
“Get back to your room and study.” Clint said placing his hand over my face and playfully shoved me away from the couch.
“Love you Hawkeye!”
“Yeah, yeah love you too (n/n).” I went back upstairs to my room and saw that I had spent my 2 minute break talking with Clint. Okay now back to studying.
For now I skipped the traveling and went through the oral section of the exam where questions about food, future jobs, and places to go would be asked. I already had my answers written down so now I was just practicing them out loud.
Well all except for my places to travel. You see, being a young Avenger I’ve already kinda been to my dream places. Last summer I went to see the Roman Colosseum in Italy, saw the Golden gate bridge in San Francisco when Scott needed some help during spring break, and on my Christmas break got to see the Highlands of Scotland. So there really wasn’t anywhere else I wanted to go.
And since the answers needed to be an in depth explanation of why we wanted to see them, if I put anything else that’ll prove I’ve already been there it won’t sound like a real reason why I want to go there. And it also just takes away the ‘typical dream-esque fantasy of wishing you could go someplace but know you’ll never be able to’.
I looked at my clock and saw that another ten minutes had gone by and it was also at that time I heard my stomach softly grumble. I wasn’t quite hungry for my normal pizza roll dinner or even instant ramen.
“I wonder if Sam’s still got his secret stash of three musketeers, recess cup and Hershey kisses?” I got up and headed back downstairs and looked through every cabinet in the kitchen. Alright come on, come on it’s gotta be around here somewhere. I know it’s here I saw him sneak out a recess cup just this morning after he, Steve and Bucky came in from their morning jog.
“You know Sam would kill you if he found you trying to steal his stash of chocolate.” Clint spoke up. I yelped in surprise and I said.
“Please tell me I didn’t speak my thoughts out loud again.” Sometimes without even realizing it, I can project my thoughts into another person’s head which allows them to hear exactly what I’m thinking.
“As loud as Tony is when he’s piddling down at the lab with that Parker kid. And that’s not even when he starts blaring AC/DC at full volume.” Clint said as he turned to face me fully from the couch.
“I was feeling a bit peckish but didn’t feel like a full meal.”
“And who’s to say that after you get what you want that I won’t text Sam and tell him you’ve been sneaking out his secret stash?” he threatened.
“Because you’re my favorite Avenger and you love me so much?” I said with a shrug. He crossed his arms over his chest, his brow raised skeptically. “Because I’m always available to help fix your hearing aid when Stark’s too busy to even look at it.”
“You can keep guessing but you’re not getting any closer to not letting me snitch on you.”
“Ever heard the phrase ‘snitches get stitches’?”
“Please kid, I can take you down with one hand tied behind my back and you know it.” Well there was one thing I could say to him that’ll get him to keep my secret.
“How about—” and it kills me to say this. “I won’t go on any serious missions throughout the rest of my college career until graduation.” He pondered the idea.
Ever since I was taken in by the Avengers, Clint’s been more of a father (mainly because he is one) more than any of the other guys on the team. He was adamant that I go to school, at least apply to college, and if I got in, work, have fun but also succeed in school. He never really liked me going on the ‘Avenger leveled’ missions and always wanted me to stay local or at least deal with mob-bosses and street gang level crimes (like Peter did before he became an Avengers).
So now hearing me ‘admit’ to putting my superhero career on ‘hold’ as I get a college degree, got him intrigued.
“You swear to me?” he asked.
“I swear.” I said crossing my heart. He looked at me questioningly then said as he turned around back to the TV.
“He moved them to the top cabinet above the fridge. Caught Barnes and Nat sneaking in a couple of his kisses earlier today.” I then used my telepathic powers and opened the cabinet above the fridge and brought down Sam’s secret stash of chocolate and grabbed three recess cups and a 3 musketeers before putting the bag back on the cabinet exactly as it had been sitting and closed the cabinet up.
“Best part of these powers is getting things from the top shelf all by myself.”
“Great kid, don’t get cocky.” Clint said.
“Okay Han Solo. Now you promise to not snitch on me.”
“I promise.” Clint said crossing his heart. I nodded firmly but stopped to run up and hug Clint once again before heading back upstairs and ate my newly required chocolate before I resumed my studying.
The next 45min were basically the same thing. I’d study for 10 minutes before going downstairs to get something or talk to Clint for about 2 minutes, then before I came back upstairs I would give him a hug. I was now in the final stretches of my studying and I felt like maybe this time I could probably end the study session now and just go and talk to Clint now.
But right as I opened the door, I was taken by surprise to see Clint right there at my door.
“Oh Jesus old man, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” I exclaimed.
“And I thought I was supposed to be the one with the heart problems.” He said sarcastically. “How’s the studying going?”
“Great. Real good, just uhh—wanted to head downstairs to get something.”
“I don’t think so.” He then came barging into my room.
“Hey! Hey! Hey! Didn’t anyone ever tell you to ask permission before you enter someone else’s room.”
“Tell that to Vision.” He said going over to my flashcards and skimmed through them.
“What are you doing?”
“The better question is what are you doing?”
“I’m—not following.”
“For the past hour you say you’d be up here studying but then every ten minutes you would come downstairs where I’m at and claim some sort of thing you need, then end that brief interaction with a hug. Now normally I don’t mind getting hugs from you kiddo, but this—this is starting to get suspicious.”
“Clint I swear I am studying it’s just that…..”
“Just what?” he asked as he sat down at the foot of my bed.
“You’re gonna think it’s weird.”
“Kid, I’ve fought off aliens, I work with a demi-gods and superhumans, fought off an army of AI robots, and I do all of that with a bow and arrow. Nothing seems weird to me anymore.” I softly chuckled.
“Okay. I uhh—” I sat down at my computer desk. “It’s always been this way for as long as I can remember. But when it comes to studying something either too difficult or draining, I take a ten minute break from my hour study session and I—I always need to hug someone. After everything that’s happened to me I…..I need some sort of stress reliever that doesn’t involve drugs or bad habit like picking at my hair or biting my nails. Hugging someone during studying make me feel grounded and not so stressed out.”
“Come here kid.” I walked over to him and he wrapped an arm around me. “Was it difficult or draining?”
“A bit of both. Some things I’m able to remember but there are others that I’m just—they just aren’t clicking as the other topics are, you know?”
“Trust me, I know. Back when I was in school, studying came hard for me too. Especially with my hearing. Sometimes my hearing aid would fritz right in the middle of the lecture, and it didn’t help that some of my teachers would cover the board with their bodies, move away for a brief second to let us see what they wrote and then just erased it.”
“Sounds like my biology teacher. No one can understand a word she says cause she’s so quiet and has a low voice like one of those robocalls.” I said.
“So I get it. How about this, tomorrow I help quiz you on some of this stuff. Cause I get it, studying by yourself is boring, but with someone else quizzing you, it keeps the brain more focused and alert to what it is you’re trying to say.”
“You mean it?”
“Heck yeah. Gotta make sure you pass that final right?”
“Right. God I cannot wait till I’m finally done with school completely. No more exams, no more homework, and no school drama about whose sleeping with whom or whose got the most followers on Snapchat or TikTok. Especially the dumb TikTok challenges.”
“I know, what is wrong with your generation and licking public toilet seats or eating Tide pods?”
“Don’t ask me, just be grateful that I’m not one of those dumbasses.”
“I would rat you out to Steve about using that word but I’ll let it slide because you’re right. Kids who do dumb shit like that are dumbasses.”
“Ha! Now I can say to Steve that it’s you whose influencing my language!” I raced out of my room.
“Oh no you don’t yah little—come back here!” he exclaimed as he chased after me.
By the end of the school year, I passed all my finals including my Spanish one, graduated with Honors and was soon working my way to gaining my scholarship to Columbia University.
summary → clint stays behind during a mission, leaving you alone with him in the avengers building. seeing him sprawled out on the comfy lounge room couch gives you some naughty ideas -- only adding to the tension your relationship already has.
word count → 6.7k (literally wtf)
warnings → i ignore the entirety of iw/endgame except for clint’s makeover, extreme sexual tension, smut; switch!fem!reader, switch!clint, couch sex, oral (both recieving), fingering, slight overstimulation, dirty talk, praise
a/n → literally idk if i should be ashamed or not but im Horny 4 Hawkeye!!! oopsie !! also there are like .3 smut fics for him on here and im determined to fix that
---
Quiet was not a word you’d use to describe the Avengers Facility.
In fact, with Steve’s loud orders, Bruce’s lab explosions, and Sam’s boisterous laughter -- not to mention the never-ending petty arguments that managed to revert the Avengers to 11th graders in their first debate club -- it was the farthest thing from quiet.
But, now, with zero disagreements and zero distractions, you’d been able to enjoy the building all to yourself. Almost. Of course, the one time you got to avoid a mission, you ended up falling into an even worse situation.
You’d covered for Wanda last mission, and she’d insisted on paying you back for the newest one. It wasn’t high stakes by any means, but the work itself had countless components and everyone who was nearby -- or at least on the planet -- had been called in to fill some role.
Everyone, of course, except you. And Clint.
Suddenly the idea of being stuck in the Quinjet with everyone’s post-mission moodiness sounded very appealing. You could feel a headache growing as you wandered around the kitchen, doing anything and everything in your power to avoid him. He was not supposed to be here. Hell, he didn’t even like stepping foot in the place unless the world was in immediate danger.
Of course, you weren’t the only one to notice his odd attitude. Natasha gave him a confused look when he mentioned staying behind, but decidedly hadn’t commented, almost like she’d already pieced together the reason for Clint’s actions. Knowing her, she probably had. But, even Wanda shot a glance that worried you -- though you seemed to be the only one to catch her squinted green gaze before it disappeared. You weren’t sure you wanted to know what she saw in his mind.
Sure, you had a couple of ideas as to why he would choose to isolate himself with you, but you tried to not let those thoughts consume you. The others wouldn’t be back till midday tomorrow -- if all went well -- and you were not about to spend the next 36 hours soaking your panties with stupid fantasies.
Unfortunately, even when ignoring Clint, your mind was still focused on him. When you passed by the gym or shooting range, antsy to get your daily work in, one quick thought of seeing Clint’s arms -- tensed as he loaded his bow, muscles straining and eyes focused on his target -- was enough to have you quickly walking in the opposite direction.
But, now, as you make your way into the lounge to relax, you can’t find it in yourself to care. You have just as much of a right as Clint does to walk around whenever and wherever you please. In all honesty, you feel even more entitled considering you’re the one actually living in the tower (at least most of the time.)
He’s exactly where you expect him to be -- he may be fast and quiet on his feet, but you’ve been keeping tabs on him, for your own sake.
It’s a bit odd seeing a book instead of a bow in his hands, but you’re not entirely sure you should be focused on how his fingers wrap around the thin pages, thumbing the corners so gently--
“Done avoiding me, are you?”
Well, shit.
His gaze remains on his book -- though the very few pages he’s turned assures you he’s not paying attention to whatever riveting story Tony has stocked his shelves with.
“What are you talking about?” you ask. There’s a moment of temptation to take a seat next to him on the couch, as close as possible. To feel his strong arms around you, smell the raw masculine cologne he always wears a bit too much of -- heavy on his neck and sharp jaw that you know your lips could curl around so perfectly if given the chance.
You swallow heavily and take a seat in the chair across from him, sinking into the expensive fabric.
“Tony picks good furniture, right?” Clint sighs, book closing without so much as a dog-ear mark as he leans back.
It’s silent for a second, and you’re entirely sure you’ve missed a part of the conversation during your mini black-out, but Clint doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, waiting patiently for your answer. You consider it a small win and accept the change in topic with an awkward laugh.
“Yeah. Didn’t think price made such a big difference.” There’s a firmness to the chair that keeps you from sinking, and mentally, you consider if it’d be strong enough for other activities. “How much you wanna bet he spent on each of these chairs?” you question, genuinely curious. “I gotta guess at least two grand.”
Clint’s cool eyes glint playfully. “Three,” he challenges with a smirk that sends a shiver down your spine. “Though, you should really try this couch. Definitely my favorite thing here.”
There’s just a hint of suggestion in his tone -- the kind that you’d miss if you weren’t trained in reading people. It’s not unexpected, though. You’d have to be a fool to not recognize the exact same longing stares, the same lingering touches that Clint offers you. But, that’s what makes it all more intimidating. It’s an unspoken thing, and at this point, that’s what feels most convenient -- even if your lonely nights spent moaning his name are growing far too common for comfort.
Still, you can’t exactly ignore him, and his eyes follow you closely as you make your way to the couch, falling into the comfy cushions with a huff.
“Wow.” You laugh. “No wonder you’ve been spending so much time down here.”
Clint raises an eyebrow. “So you have been paying me some attention. Interesting.”
If he notices you shift as far to the other end of the couch as possible, he doesn’t mention it.
“Don’t take it personally, Barton,” you huff. “I’m used to keeping an eye on everyone around here.” It’s not entirely a lie, but he manages to see right through the half-truth regardless.
“So you avoid everyone, then?” There’s no hurt or misunderstanding in his voice, not even confusion. He knows what you’re doing, knows why you can’t bear to look him in the eyes for more than a few seconds.
“Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deflect, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back onto the couch.
He just chuckles, a low sound that makes your stomach clench unconsciously. You expect him to keep pressing you, work you up until you spill your guts, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even say a word as you hear the rustling of paper and feel the couch move slightly as he shifts.
You turn your head towards him and open one eye, then both as they go wide. Clint has taken on a whole new level of comfortable, feet perched on the coffee table and one arm resting on the back of the couch while his free hand flips through the same first few pages as before.
In all honesty, you suddenly find yourself happy that Steve and Tony are gone -- otherwise they’d be scolding Clint for his manners, and most definitely not ogling his firm legs in those tight, black jeans.
You drag your gaze back up his body, stopping near the hem of his shirt, where his new position has allowed for the fabric to ride up his stomach. It’s just a sliver of skin but the image is enough to make your heart race. There’s a faint dip in the muscled hip line leading to his jeans, and if you stare extra hard, you can see the light trail of thin hairs disappearing under the fabric.
Swallowing heavily, you quickly look back at Clint’s face, holding back a gasp as he stares back at you.
“So,” you fill the silence before he can, mentally thanking Natasha for her training on keeping your composure. “How’s that book of yours?”
Clint just grins for a second -- you both know he’s caught you. “It’s alright. Not the most interesting thing in the building right now, though.”
You gulp. “Yeah… The place is big. Lots to explore. I don’t think I’ve even seen every room--”
“I have a feeling you know that’s not what I mean,” Clint cuts you off with a chuckle, and you send him a challenging glare.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you scoff.
He hums, before his tongue peeks out to swipe across his bottom lip. “You’re sounding awfully like a broken record today.” His icy, pale eyes return to his book, and you watch as he lifts his thumb to his wet lips, tongue darting out the lick the tip. You can practically feel the action, and almost whine in disappointment when his hand returns to flip the page.
Clint is downright grinning at this point, and you know he’s taking in every breath, shift, and blink of yours. “But, I know you’re not actually confused,” he continues. “In fact, I’d argue you like this game of ours a bit more than you should.”
You know if you brush it off again, he’ll drop it. He’s too nice to make you uncomfortable, and his statement hangs in the air with a heavy weight.
“You know, Barton?” you shift from your spot on the couch, eliminating a good chunk of the space between you and him. “I think you’re smarter than most people give you credit for.” He raises a brow, and you would believe his undisturbed look if you didn’t see his fingers twitch against the spine of the forgotten book.
“Tell Nat that,” he jokes, and you grin. Seeing that little crack in his facade, the way he fills the conversation with a joke, the discreet but heavy swallow he tries to hide -- it’s all enough to power you to move closer, until there are mere centimeters between you two.
“Hmmm, I don’t think I’ll be telling Natasha anything from this conversation of ours.” Keeping your attention on the slight tense of his jaw, you push the book from his hands, and he immediately drops his feet from the table to discard it in their place.
You pause for a second, glancing at Clint’s lap then back at him, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach out and grab your hip.
“Get over here already,” he groans, both arms wrapping around your waist to situate you in his lap. His hands are warm and firm and everything you could have ever imagined, and you automatically roll your hips down onto him. There’s a pleased moan from you both, and his own hips jolt in a way that sends you even closer to him, until your chests are touching.
He immediately dives for your neck, scruff tickling the sensitive skin as he breathes you in deeply. “I gotta admit,” he murmurs, letting his lips graze the bottom of your jaw in the most sinful way, “you look so much better sitting here than standing around in the kitchen.”
You drag your fingers through the long hair on the back of his head, tugging it playfully. “You’ve been watching me, Barton?”
He hums, squeezing you just as teasingly. “I do a lot of staring when it comes to you, babe.”
You pull him from your neck by his hair, and he looks up at you with the most mischievous glint in his eyes. The nickname makes you undeniably flustered, but you force the embarrassment away.
“I don’t know about you, but I think that’s what you call creepy,” you mumble, leaning down so Clint can feel your words against his own lips. He immediately darts forward, but you pull back with a sly grin, watching his eyes darken at the action.
“I think,” he growls, catching you off guard as he pushes you back onto the couch, making you jostle as you try not to fall off the edge. He steadies you with a large hand, and you only jolt again when he uses his free hand to spread your legs, caging you in as his hips drop between your parted thighs. “You’d be a hypocrite for saying that.” He drops back to your neck, and you can feel his smile before his teeth sink into your skin lightly -- just enough to make you gasp.
He continues to litter your neck with kisses, and you watch in awe as his toned arm tenses by the side of your head -- the thick black lines of ink rolling as his muscles flex.
“And what are you gonna do about it?” you taunt, back arching as his tongue darts out to lick a stripe up to right below your chin. “You gonna fuck me?”
Clint bites the edge of your jaw in retaliation to your words, before he pulls back just enough to stare at you with a lustful gaze.
“Not yet, baby. Not that easily.” One of his hands trails up the front of your thigh, before it busies itself with the hem of your shirt. You try to hide your disappointment, but Clint notices it, of course, and just shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on letting you leave this couch anytime soon. You’ve made me wait long enough for this… I’m gonna take my time with you.”
He finally presses his lips to yours, and you hungrily reach and tug until he’s as close as possible -- until you can feel the denim of his jeans scraping deliciously against your thighs as you tug his bottom lip between your teeth. It’s messy and entirely uncalculated, and your nails catch in the wrinkles of the back of his shirt while his own fingers tug impatiently at the bottom of yours.
You part from him for a second, and his own greedy mouth follows yours, only managing to press against the side of your lips. “You act like you’ve made this easy for me,” you retort, and his chest rumbles against yours as he chuckles.
“Oh honey, I think I’ve made it quite obvious I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day you walked in here.”
“Clearly, not obvious enough.”
Clint huffs, warm breath hitting your cheek. “What’d you want me to do? Huh?” He shifts so his words make their way directly to your ear, each syllable accentuated with a puff of hot air. With him this close, neck just below your nose, you can take in the heavy smell of that sharp cologne you love so much.
His calloused fingers dip beneath your shirt, but instead of the obvious trail up, his hand trails down to play with the hem of your shorts. “Tug these little things off in front of everyone? Show them all how worked up you get me wearing these? Is that what you want?”
Your hips lift in a silent plea, and you groan. “They’re comfortable.”
“Maybe for you, but I find myself very uncomfortable when you wear them.” He snickers, and if you weren’t so turned on, you’re sure you’d roll your eyes. Only Clint Barton could make a joke about untimely hard-ons during a time like this.
“Then why don’t you take them off?” you groan, and he shakes his head while muttering something about you being bossy.
Still, his words betray him as he tugs the fabric down your legs, as slowly as possible while his eyes drink in the new area of exposed skin. “What part about taking my time with you did you not understand?” The corner of his lips tug in that mischievous way of his, and you have a sneaking feeling his patience is as fleeting as your own.
Proving your point, Clint tosses your shorts over the back of the couch with a grin, then pushes you further up the cushions. You’re almost sitting, shoulder blades knocking the arm of the sofa while your legs bend at the knee to accompany Clint, who scoots back. It’s the perfect and most disastrous angle to be at as you have to both feel and watch his deft fingers trail up from your knee.
You’re a hundred percent sure the effects of your arousal are extremely obvious, but he doesn’t comment on the wet patch of your panties -- though you see his eyes focus on the area between your legs for a second too long before his gaze flickers back to your thighs.
His calloused fingers trail the edge of fabric around your legs, rough skin providing a type of friction you can’t begin to explain. His touch is fleeting and he changes the amount of pressure with every swipe of his thumb, always pushing just enough to let you know he’s holding you down. That you can’t escape him -- as if you’d even think of trying to do so.
“Your legs are so sexy, you know that?”
You let out some type of pleased whine, a sound that Clint relishes as he tightens his grip on your thighs. “Make the prettiest sounds, too,” he continues, and then his fingers are right there. One hand holds your left leg down, while the other covers your panty-covered core. His thumb rubs into your desperate, throbbing clit, and you use your little amount of freedom to push your hips up, wanting, needing more.
Clint immediately presses you back down, and you watch his tattoos shift just slightly as he adds more weight to his hand on your thigh.
“Please, please.” You revert to begging at your lack of movement, losing all shame in regard to your desire. It’s obvious you need Clint -- any excuses or lies from before long forgotten. You need his movements to speed up, the slow circles of his thumb providing barely enough friction.
He just chuckles, but relents a little and you downright purr as the thin fabric of your underwear drags against your tingling nerve endings. It’s impossible to move under Clint’s weight, but all the muscles in your lower half flex and twitch as they desperately search for release and relief.
“How about…” Clint trails off, fingers moving upward to grab the waistline of your panties, “we get these off?”
You’re sure if you nod any faster you might make yourself dizzy, and Clint just smirks in that knowing way. That way that lets you know he has you right where he wants you. Right where he’s been waiting to have you.
The article of clothing is soon flung behind his shoulder just like your forgotten shorts -- and you can only faintly remind yourself to make sure you grab everything before the others return. Though, at this point, you think anyone could walk in on Clint between your legs and you’d still be begging him to make you cum -- audience or not.
“Fucking Christ,” Clint groans, palms sliding between your thighs to spread them, giving him a full view of your glistening core. “I swear, you’re gonna kill me.” Seeing his flushed cheeks, mussed hair, and greedy fingers, you’re not sure you can reject that statement.
He removes his hands for just a second, but you don’t dare close your legs, and he has the audacity to wink. Before your mind can even process the action, though, he’s pulling his shirt off, arms crossing over his chest as they show off in their full glory. Hips, stomach, chest, arms -- they’re all exposed so quickly and your eyes drink in the features as fast as they can. Clint throws the shirt to the side -- you have a feeling he’s utilizing his perfect aim to create a clothing pile -- but you just stare at his shoulder, where the ink spreads to areas you’ve never had the chance to see before. The olive green accents contrast against his tanned skin, which has gained a light sheen from the sweat of his arousal.
As he leans back down, Ronin’s portrait stares you dead in the eyes -- quite literally. If you didn’t know the deeper meaning, you’re sure you could mistake the skull as a danger warning to the man pressing a kiss against the inside of your knee.
Short hairs chafe your legs as Clint makes himself comfortable, pressing his jaw against you. When his hot breath dances over your center you almost squeeze your thighs together, but he’s there to push them apart with a chuckle.
“No, no…” He pulls away barely, and you take in a deep breath to calm yourself. “You’re gonna give me what I want, ok?” His fingers are gentle, and so are his eyes when he glances up to you. He’s hopeful, pleading almost, but stays respectful. “If that’s ok, of course.”
You almost want to cry, because how could he think any differently, but you just nod. “Please Clint, touch me.”
He sends you a lopsided grin, and then he’s right there, pressing a kiss against your clit. The feeling is completely different from before, lips slick and soft unlike his rough thumb. All the air in your lungs leaves your body as you let out a sigh of relief, body finally relaxing as it gets the touch it needs.
You reach down and your nails scratch his scalp lightly before you grip his hair in a tight hold. He nuzzles against your hand and groans against you, and the feeling of control makes your blood run hot through your veins. One of the most powerful men on Earth is between your legs, sucking softly on your clit like it's the only thing he could ever want.
He traces circles on your thighs with his coarse fingers as he warms you up with gentle licks and the occasional curl of his lips around your most sensitive area. You let him have the satisfaction of your spread thighs, but you periodically tug on his tousled locks to remind him that he’s the one between your legs. It’s the perfect balance of dominance -- the type that makes your head spin and your eyes roll back into your head.
Clint presses another kiss to your clit before traveling lower and the intimacy of the action makes your skin flush. You can tell he’s not going to be holding back for much longer though, if the desperation of his descent is any indication. His fingers join his attack as he spreads your folds, tongue dragging the entirety of your core.
“So good, baby. So fucking good,” he mutters, mouth impatient as he covers as much skin as he can at once. It’s fast and downright dirty as he presses his tongue into you, eliciting a groan from your parted, panting lips. You’re dripping at this point, and he laps up the mix of saliva and arousal with a yearning thirst.
It’s all so overwhelming. His fingers are digging into your skin -- likely to leave faint marks -- and the scruff framing his jaw scrapes and leaves your skin burning, while the softer locks between your fingers are a comfort to steady you.
The heat building in your body is entirely unbelievable, and your back digs into the couch as you arch into Clint, desperate for all he’ll be willing to give you. You press him closer, and he moans at the power in your hands -- the control you have despite him hovering over you. It’s a mental trip for you both, your stomach and pelvic muscles clenching as they react to his generous, eager giving.
“God, Clint, gonna cum.” The words barely feel like they’re coming from your own body, jaw slack as you tremble in his hold. His index finger presses into you slowly, while his thumb replaces his tongue on your clit. The change of stimulation has you reeling, your grip on Clint loosening as you feel his warm words against you.
“Kinda the point, sweetheart.” Your eyes are squeezed shut, but you know Clint is smirking -- you can practically hear it in his voice.
His finger curls to press against your front wall, and he rubs it gently once, twice, before he lets the digit drag out, sinking in again even slower. The leisurely thrusts continue as his tongue returns to circle your clit, his cocky words from before silenced as he puts his mouth to work. Your breath grows heavier, heart rate increasing with every second. His middle finger joins the first with a steady push, and you clench desperately as they curl and press and rub and reduce you to nothing but putty.
You’re right there and Clint knows it -- somehow he knows it. His fingers move faster, harder, and his lips wrap around your clit with even greater determination. There’s a shift, fingertips grazing the perfect spot as he sucks desperately and it’s over. You’re crying out his name, thighs shaking and you clench and flutter around his never-ceasing fingers. There’s a moment where all senses leave you and all you can feel is Clint, and the spread of warmth between your legs. Your ears ring and your own moans become faint background sounds.
And then, you’re pulling his head back, his tongue still trying to work your sensitive clit. He fights your tug on his hair but you must be begging because he finally relents with a huff. You can hear his breathing, and you feel his shift as he leans back over you, fingers still working you through your high.
“Look at me,” he demands, and his free hand drags down your cheek. “C’mon, open your eyes.” He forcefully grabs your chin, and your eyes open too quickly for your mind to process. It’s all so bright and you have to blink away the splotches of color coating your vision. Clint takes up the entirety of your view, lips wet and eyes dark. “There you go, baby.” He’s grinning and panting and his fingers are still fucking moving.
You whimper and glance down -- as much as his grip on your jaw will allow -- and the view of his tattooed arm between your thighs, veins pulsing as he fingers you is imprinted in your mind permanently. It’s a never-ending high that goes on for a second too long before Clint finally, finally eases his fingers from you. They’re practically dripping with your release, and he wastes no time bringing them to his glossy mouth.
It’s hypnotic to watch as his lips close around his fingers, nostrils flaring as he sucks them eagerly. They come out clean, and his chest rumbles with a groan. “Can’t get enough of your taste. Fuck.”
It takes a second for you to catch your breath, chest heaving and shirt clinging to sweaty skin. But, there’s finally a moment where your legs feel somewhat solid, and you take advantage of the opportunity, bending your leg to put the bottom of your foot on Clint’s bare chest.
He shoots you a confused but intrigued look, and you respond with a lopsided grin as you push him backward, until he’s the one stumbling to find a spot against the arm of the couch. Faintly, you consider the move would be much sexier with a pair of heels digging into his skin, but this will have to suffice for now. Maybe next time -- if there is a next time, of course.
“Now, what are you up to, baby girl?” Clint is practically vibrating with excitement as you gather the strength to push yourself off the couch, ignoring the slight twitch of your exerted thighs.
“Take your pants off,” you say, with little shame. “Now.”
You’re not sure you’ve ever seen someone get undressed so quickly and the hastiness of Clint’s actions leave him with very little coordination. It takes him three tries to get his belt undone, and he pokes himself with the metal prong when his eyes return to glance at you.
Raising a brow, you put your hands on your hips, and he speeds up. The button and zipper take him twice as long, but the sound when he finally tosses his belt and jeans off to the side is well worth the wait.
He licks his lips, looking up at you -- waiting, watching. Your earlier thoughts regarding his legs are heightened tenfold as you take in his toned thighs and hard cock in-between. He’s thick, the bulge pressing against his boxer-briefs making your heart skip a beat. The mere idea of him stretching you open has you growing too impatient for what you have planned.
“Keep going.” You swallow and hope your voice doesn’t sound too shaky.
Clint’s quick fingers make work of the fabric, and you focus on finishing yourself off. You pull your shirt off and let it drop to your feet before your hands move to unhook your bra. You’re barely sliding the straps down your arms when you hear Clint huff, and you look back to him.
“I wanted to do that,” he almost whines, chest puffing.
You roll your eyes but laugh, and toss your bra to him. He catches it with a wink, before throwing it behind him. Immediately, his gaze drags over your chest, excruciatingly slow. You know he’s taking in every inch, every natural mark that decorates your torso. Normally, you’d feel odd being examined so closely while still being at a decent distance -- but Clint is observant and his eyes are hungry.
Finally, his dark eyes reconnect with yours. “You gonna come sit or should I just grab you?” His tone is playful and daring, but you hear the hint of arousal that suggests he wouldn’t be opposed to tugging you into his arms. You don’t have time for games anymore, though, so you stand between Clint’s legs, and he pats his thigh playfully.
“Hmm…” You bite your lip and shake your head, eyes glistening with mischief. “Not yet…”
You make your descent to your knees perfectly paced, fluttering your lashes as you look up to Clint from between his thighs. He cusses and his arms fall limply to his side as he resigns himself to the torture he knows you’ll be sure to deliver.
“I thought you wanted to take your time,” you tease, fingers sliding up his thigh. Your nails against his skin have him tensing, muscles quivering.
He groans, and tosses his head back. “That was before I made you cum. Just wanna fuck you now -- make you shake again.”
You pinch him. “Sweet-talking will get you nowhere, Barton. You should know that.” But, you still let your palm graze over his hard cock, twitching at your touch. He’s firm and warm, and when your fingers wrap around his length, you realize how deliciously thick he is, filling your grasp fully. The length is there too, just enough to not be intimidating, but the girth has your core throbbing.
“Fuck, Clint,” you groan, giving a slow jerk of your wrist. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
He’s pulsing in your hand, skin flushed and precum beginning to drip from the head of his cock. It coats your hand on the second stroke, easing the drag. Soon enough, he’s practically glistening, and your mouth waters. You have to taste him.
He calls your name, voice trembling, as your tongue darts out to flatten against his tip. “Oh God, please.” He’s flushed, from his cheeks to his tensing thighs, and you’d grin if you weren’t taking him deeper into your mouth. Another part of the burning, fervid desire deep in your veins lights up as your lips wrap around him -- tongue greedy for more as it laps everything it can reach. A growl reverberates through his entire body, and the sound makes your thighs clench.
You spare him a glance, and he looks destroyed. Sweat gathers on his forehead and the veins in his arm pulse as he grips the cushions to stay steady. Sane. Calm.
His knuckles are white and you relieve them by grabbing his left hand in your own, thumb rubbing over the back of his palm. He’s squeezing you like you’re his lifeline, and you reward him with your free hand around his base.
“Fuck fuck, I’ll cum too fast with you doing that,” Clint grunts, and you watch his chest heave as he tries to steady his breathing.
You pull off him with a line of spit, breaking it with your hand as you use the saliva to glide your fingers. He’s still throbbing, and you trace his underside vein with your wet thumb. “I thought that was the point, right?” You repeat his words from earlier with a grin, pressing a kiss against his thigh as your hand speeds up. He’s so close and he needs it so badly, but he finally pulls his hand from yours to grab your moving wrist.
“Not until I fuck you.” He pants, and begrudgingly removes your hold from his cock. “And a couple times, at the very least.”
Your heart races at the mere thought of as many rounds as you can handle, with Clint making you cum again and again. Still, you stand slowly, silently hoping he’ll push you back to your knees and cum down your throat.
But he doesn’t. He watches closely as you straighten out, and you quickly move to straddle him. “Fine, but you’ll let me ride you, understood?” Your thighs brush over him with the lightest touch, and with just one solid movement, you could have him sinking into you. But, you wait. You watch as he swallows heavily, eyes hooded.
Clint gives you a lopsided smile. “No complaints here, babe.” And with that, you reach down to hold his length, pressing the tip against your clenching, wet, core. He gasps, but you shift just slightly, until he bumps your clit. It’s too much and too little all at once, and you let out a soft cry as he jerks upward, precum coating the swollen nub. You reward yourself with one more drag down from your clit before letting the head of his cock push into you.
You’re immediately clenching around his length, and Clint’s calloused fingertips dig into your hips as he helps steady you. It only takes a couple breaths and a slow spread of your thighs to take him fully, arousal coating his cock quickly. He barely holds himself back from rutting into you right away, but you rock your hips and grip his shoulders regardless.
“Fuck,” he half-groans, half-whimpers. “You’re so fucking wet.”
Your nails dig into his skin as you roll again, letting out an incoherent babble of his name as your clit gains friction from his own warm body. You can feel your own wetness dripping down your thigh onto his, and it has you shuddering. It’s so dirty and your fingers move to Clint’s hair, desperately clinging at the long strands. His forehead presses to yours, and he smells like the most dangerous concoction of sweat, cologne, and mint toothpaste you’ve ever had the honor of inhaling.
You join in an almost-kiss that’s all teeth, but he brushes his tongue against your cupid’s bow in a much gentler way, and you know he can feel the shiver that runs down your spine in reaction. He squeezes your hip gently in reassurance, and then his grip on you tightens. It doesn’t hurt, but you can feel the years of arm workouts, and you know there’s no way to escape -- as if you’d ever want to.
Clint’s knee jerks and then he’s thrusting up into you with such force it leaves you breathless. He holds you down and all you can do is gasp and hold him tighter as he pushes into you harder and faster. Every shift provides a new angle and friction as his tip stimulates your sensitive walls.
Your thighs shake desperately and you can hear the wet slap each of his movements provide as you coat his cock in warm slick. He grins at the sight, one hand drifting from your hip until it reaches your throbbing clit.
“Look at you,” he coos and punctuates the words with a rough circle of his thumb.
Your chest heaves as you gasp, but the lack of Clint’s hold gives you a second to grind against him. He grunts as you do, and you chuckle breathlessly against his parted lips.
“And look at you.”
He retorts by way of another rub against your clit, and your laughter quickly turns to a drawn-out moan.
“You look so pretty when you’re about to cum.” He pants between every word, but he’s determined to deliver the compliment that makes your face too warm. You’re not sure how he knows you’re so close -- it must be way more embarrassingly obvious than you thought -- but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when he’s letting his cock drag inside you slowly, with a hard thrust every few seconds. Not when the pressure on your clit is changing so rapidly you can’t breathe.
When you do cum, with a broken cry and shaking torso, Clint doesn’t let up. He goes faster, harder. It’s a never-ending high that turns your brain to mush, and your body into even less. Your thighs burn and your toes curl but all you can feel is the delicious length buried deep inside you.
It’s only during the beginning of the cool down that you tug a little harder on Clint’s hair, and roll your hips a little more. “C’mon, Clint, please. Please fill me up.” His chest rumbles against yours with a throaty growl, and you continue to ride out your orgasm as he fucks into you with a few more desperate, shaky thrusts.
He cums in you thick and warm, with a groan of your name. It tumbles from his lips sinfully, and you commit the sound to memory. The rasp of his tone and the sight of his wet, swollen lips.
It’s not until he eases out of you slowly, and you feel the drip down your thigh that you’re grounded and reminded of exactly where you are. On a multi-thousand dollar couch. Owned by Tony Stark.
“Oh my god, Clint.”
His eyes are closed and you’re sure he’s about three seconds from sleeping for eighteen hours, but he manages a tired smirk. “I know. That was good.”
“No! I mean yes. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
He half-opens one eye. “What?”
“I think we stained the couch.” A quick glance between Clint’s thighs all but confirms it, and you’re not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed by the very large wet spot staining the blended fabric.
“I can’t believe that’s what you’re thinking about right now. After everything that just happened.”
You playfully slap his shoulder as you roll onto the cushion next to him with a huff. He nudges you back with his arm before clearing his throat, and letting out a butchered impression of your voice. “Oh Clint! Your dick was just so amazing!-”
“Oh my god!” You cover your face but nothing stops the laughter that rumbles through your chest -- even if he’s got your tone completely wrong. He just chuckles and wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his side with a sigh.
“How much do you think we’ll owe Tony by the end of the day?” He looks down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
He rolls his eyes, but presses a chaste kiss to your hair. “C’mon, you don’t think I haven’t planned out every surface we still need to fuck on before they get back?”
“Clint!”
“See, you keep screaming my name but for all the wrong reasons.” Now you can feel his grin against the top of your head, and it comes into view as he stands with you still in his grasp. You’re not sure how he maneuvers it, but he’s got you in his arms before you can even blink, and the look he sends you tells you not to complain or even question it. He’s not even out of breath -- all things considered -- and when you glance in the direction he’s heading, your eyes widen.
“You have got to be joking…” You squirm in his arms as he sets you down on the table used for almost every meeting, and the mere thought of defiling it forever makes you squeeze your legs together shyly.
But, Clint is quick to spread them, all with a cocky grin and a far too confident tone.
“I don’t know about you…” He begins, as his fingers trail up your thigh. “But I think we could reach ten thousand by midnight.”
If you distantly hear FRIDAY warn adamantly against it -- neither of you mention it.
I don’t like the way this one ended up. I’m sorry!
I let out a heavy sigh and immediately pressed send on my messages. The message reading Be ready by the time I get there.
Almost instantly I got a response. Bad day?
Bad day was an absolute fucking understatement. As a lawyer with the largest defense agency in the world known as SHIELD was no walk in the park. We’re trying to rebuild after the shit show that Thanos attempted to throw at us. As a junior member, I was put on all the grunt work and forced to run all over the city taking care of assignments.
You have no idea. Just be ready. I responded and threw my phone in the seat next to me. I was not in any type of mood to be played with tonight. I had a feeling it would be a very interesting night though. I made the twenty minute drive home in just under fifteen minutes, sitting in the car for a few extra minutes to let him stir.
As I pushed the door open I could smell the dinner that he had started. On the kitchen table was an uncorked bottle of red wine waiting for me, which made me grin. I knew he was waiting for me like I said. I just refused to pay attention to him. I passed by the living room, seeing the man knelt down with his hands on top of his naked thighs out of the corner of my eye, and opened the oven taking in a deep breath. He was silently waiting for me, in nothing but his underwear. After making myself a glass of wine, I walked back into the living room and sat down in my favorite chair, all without saying anything. Him knowing he better not move unless told to.
“Clint,” I said softly after taking a few sips from the glass. He made no movement but I knew he was listening, “Come take off my shoes for me.” In an instant he was kneeling before and slowly sliding the heels off of my aching feet. His rough hands massaged into my calves and he bent down slightly pressing soft kisses to the tops of my feet. My eyes drifted shut at the feeling and I leaned into the chair, taking another sip from the glass.
“You’re so good for me. You’re such a good boy aren’t you Clint?” I asked, sitting up and running my fingers through his hair.
“Only for you,” He mumbled, pressing a kiss against my thigh.
“Baby, I want you to go up to the bedroom and wait for me. Have those off by the time I get there.”
“Yes mam,” He stood up and practically ran up the stairs. I let out a little chuckle and stood up walking to the freezer taking a couple of ice cubes out and putting them in a glass. I also grabbed the can of whip cream in the fridge and a bowl of strawberries. I juggled the three items in my hands as I made my way up the stairs.
Clint was waiting for me, laying on the bed, his semi-hard cock on display. As I stalked to the bed I scanned every part of his body, taking in the sleeve tattoo that now adorned his arm, noticing every scar that littered his body. I placed the items on the bed near the pillows, stripped off my clothes, thentook a strawberry, “Want a taste?” I asked and was given a small nod in return. I placed the fruit between my lips and leaned down. A groan escaped his own lips as they brush with mine as he took a bite of the fruit.
“You know, I really wanted to use your body for only my pleasure tonight but I’ve changed my mind. You’ve been such a good boy for me lately and I want you to feel good tonight.” I said softly, putting the stem of the strawberry back in the bowl. I slipped one of the ice cubes in my mouth and slowly kissed down Clint’s body, letting the coolness of the ice drip onto his skin.
“Y/N,” He groaned, bucking his hips as I pressed the ice cube against one of his nipples. I glanced up at him, giving him a warning glare, as I continued down, kissing down his body.
While taking his cock in my hand and slowly pumping it, I put another smaller piece of ice in my mouth and smirked up at Clint. A loud groan escaped his lips as I dropped my mouth down on his cock, slowly bobbing my head, “Fuck feels so good.” I swirled my tongue around his cock then pressed it against the vein on the underside. My hands splayed out on his abs with my nails scratching against his skin.
I pulled up off his cock and wrapped my hand back around it, “You look so good baby. I love the way your perfect cock feels.” I gave the tip of his cock a little lick, “My plans for tonight aren’t going how I planned. I really want you to fuck me.” I kept eye contact with him as I brought my mouth back down his cock.
“Get up here,” Clint grunted gently pulling my hand. His cock slipped from my mouth and sat up, pulling me into his lap. I tangled my fingers in his hair and roughly pressed my lips against his. He quickly flipped us over, pushing me into the mattress and buried his cock deep in my pussy.
“Fuck,” I moaned loudly, arching my back into him, his lips traveled down my neck, gently biting and nibbling. He always loves putting marks on my body. Clint roughly ground his hips into mine and my nails bud into the skin on his back, “Clint please. Fuck me harder.” I cried. He pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back inside.
“Fuck you’re so tight,” He grunted, “I’m gonna fill this pussy up.” His hips slammed harder against mine. I could feel his heavy cock twitching inside of me.
“Yes cum in me baby. So good for me.” I moaned loudly bucking my hips up into his. Clint slammed hard into me one more time signaling his orgasm and he spilled his cum deep inside me. His orgasm triggered my own and I clenched tight around his twitching cock, milking him as much as possible.
He let out a final grunt and collapsed on top of me, peppering kisses along my shoulder, “Feeling better baby?” He mumbled softly.
“Absolutely. Tonight definitely didn’t go how I planned on though.” I chuckled. At some point the cup of ice, strawberries, and whip cream ended up on the floor. Clint let out a little chuckle as well and pulled out, climbing halfway out of the bed grabbing the whip cream. He laid back beside me, squirting some into his mouth.
“What exactly did you plan on using this for?” He asked. I smirked and took the can from him.
“It would be much more fun to show you.”
___________
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