#clintasha advent 2022
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Day 1- Temperature
“It’s cold in here.”
Natasha pulls another blanket on her lap, yarn sliding through her fingers as she works another row into a scarf. Clint raises his eyebrows.
“Are you sure you’re not getting sick?”
“I don’t get sick.”
“You were sick two months ago in Cairo.”
“Was not,” she replies stubbornly. He shrugs, the clink of her knitting needles filling the silence. “Can you make me some hot chocolate?”
“Sure.”
By the time he returns to the living room, she’s fast asleep on the couch.
XXXXX
He nudges her awake a few hours later, offering a cup of hot soup.
“I don’t want that. I’m sweating. It’s hot in here.”
“It’s not. It’s the same temperature as before.”
“You’re wrong.”
There’s no use in arguing. She sits up and pushes aside the blankets. Her hair is damp against her forehead.
“Maybe we should try a shower to cool down.”
“Okay.”
XXXXX
Back to bundled, she clutches the soup in her hands like a lifeline. He sits behind her, working a brush gently through the tangles in her hair.
“I’m freezing.”
“I know. The medicine should kick in soon.”
“The soup is too hot.”
“Give it a minute to cool down.”
“I hate this.”
He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“You’re a pain in the butt when you’re sick, you know that?”
“I don’t get sick.”
“I know.”
She sets the empty bowl aside and curls into his side, tucking her fingers into the cuffs of the sweatshirt.
“Love you,” she mumbles.
“Love you too.”
XXXXX
“Hey there Sleeping Beauty.”
“What time is it?”
“Little after 8pm.”
“Shit, I slept the whole day.”
“It’s okay. You needed it.” She stretches, taking a moment to analyze things. Her muscles aren’t aching quite so much, and her head feels less like a balloon. “You hot? Cold?”
“Hmmm. No. I don’t think so. But maybe I could use some more of that soup. It was really good.”
“Coming right up, Princess.”
He laughs, ducking around the playful swat at his arm.
“Don’t call me Princess.”
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Clintasha Advent.
Myths and Legends.
“It’s a myth,” Clint scoffs, kicking his legs out of the ledge.
“What is?” Maria asks, handing him a bottle of coke and sitting down next to him.
“The black widow, the program, the red room, all of it, it’s just stories to make the good little Russians behave.”
Maria shrugs, “then who do you think did the Souez assassination? Or the hospital fire?”
Clint takes a swig, “the KGB? The Cheka? The FSB? Take your pick. It’s not some babayaga program that teaches little girls to kill. How sick would that be?”
Maria stands.
“Maybe. I believe it, though.”
#Clintasha Advent 2022#natasha romanoff#clintasha#black widow#clint barton#my fic#day 16#clintasha fanfic
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Clintasha Advent Day #2 - Decorations
Part Two. @clintasha-week
“He’s probably going to kill himself,” Yelena said with a snort as they watched Clint stringing lights across the rooftop. “Natasha, are you really going to let a man you un-ironically called the love of your life die because of a stupid holiday tradition?”
Next to her, Kate laughed. The three women were watching, alarmed, as Clint Barton brought Christmas to their little rented home. After he and Natasha had come home from their holiday stay-cation, Kate and Yelena had confronted them about being busy-bodies and getting involved in their budding relationship. Now, the four of them were spending Christmas in the countryside and Clint was trying to decorate the house they rented, hanging lights from the roof.
“He wanted to give you a nice American Christmas,” Natasha said, arms crossed. “Shut up and let him do it.”
“He only did because he felt bad about stalking us,” Kate murmured. “Because he thought your sister was going to defile my honor or something.”
Which was ironic, Natasha knew, given that her sister was asexual and her relationship with Kate was new, something the girls were trying to figure out on their own. There was no defiling just two adorably confused young women.
“He didn’t think she was going to defile you,” Natasha hissed, hoping Clint didn’t hear. Even though Kate was about to turn twenty-three, the idea of her having a relationship sent Clint on edge. He saw her as a kid or something, but Natasha understood. Her sister was older, but she was just getting used to living life outside of the Red Room’s control. “He was just worired about the type of trouble you two could get in. Now, let him put up some twinkly lights. It’ll make him feel better.”
Clint, on top of the roof, groaned so loudly that they could all hear.
“Can you stop gossiping and get up here to help me?” he asked. “I’m not going to kill myself, but I could use a hand.”
“Of course, honey,” Natasha laughed, heading for the ladder.
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Title: About a Secret
Filled:
Clintasha Advent - Day 14 - Free day - @clintasha-week
Mood Boarder: Caiti
Relationship: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff
Rating: G
Warnings: Mood board
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Clintasha Advent 2022 Day 15: Rivalry
Natasha took a deep breath and drew the bow, holding for a moment as she marginally adjusted her aim before she loosed the arrow.
Even from the distance she stood away from the target on the range, it wasn't hard to tell that her arrow had hit a ring away from the bullseye.
"Close, but not quite," Clint commented from behind her with an almost smug note in his voice.
She lowered the bow as she turned back to cast him a pointed look. "I'll get the hang of it."
"I mean, you're only going up against years of experience and a natural knack for it…" He broke into an unapologetic grin as she affectionately rolled her eyes. "And you're always welcome to give in on the bet."
"You wish," Natasha retorted. She angled back to face the target and grabbed another arrow, confident she wouldn't hit the first. "I still have nine to go."
The concept of the bet was simple: whichever one of them hit more bullseyes with the other's usual weapon under mostly equalizing conditions didn't have to write mission reports for three weeks. In practice they were each slightly more competitive about it than anticipated.
True to Natasha's expectation, her second arrow hit closer to the bullseye than the first, prompting her to smirk back at him. "See? Getting the hang of it."
"Still not the bullseye, Romanoff," he teased.
#clintasha advent#clintasha advent 2022#clintashaadvent2022#clintasha#clint barton#natasha romanoff#monkeyfic#I'll catch up a little one of these days 😅
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Clintasha Advent 2022 - Day 1: Temperature
Natasha turns the thermostat down to get what she wants.
Read more on Ao3
#natasha x clint#clint x natasha#clintasha#clintasha advent 2022#clintasha advent#clint barton#natasha romanoff#black widow#hawkeye
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Marvel
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Characters: Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)
Additional Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Clint Barton is a loveable idiot, the absolute briefest mention of nat's trauma, but this is cute and fluffy i swear
Series: Part 1 of Clintasha Advent 2022
Summary:
Natasha comes home to find that the apartment is freezing. Clint has a creative solution.
#guess whos baaaaaaack#Clintasha Advent 2022#Clintasha#clint barton#natasha romanoff#fanfiction#fanfic#ao3
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CLINTASHA Emotions/Moods Dec 17th 2022
( Emotions & Moods )
Subtle Emotions
Takes place during Age of Ultron.
Clint sees her talking to Bruce again across Stark's bar. He feels a sharp pain in his chest as he looks down and smiles softly. He wants to say he's happy for her. He's always suspected that Natasha had feelings for him. She hides it well, she hides it like a Widow. Though he feels it, he sees it in her eyes, and he hates that deep down he feels it because they're there for him too.
She's a Black Widow, most smart people would know better to trust any of them. Though Natasha is the exception. He would trust her with his life. So he doesn't understand why Natasha is having such a hard time winning over the big guy. She's genuinely opening herself to him. How much of a gift is that? A Black Widow truly opening herself up to emotions, feelings, and romance. Most know better than to take that risk.
Yet he distracts himself with the drum set Tony has in the corner. He casually eyes them. He doesn't like how Banner is flatly turning down her advances. He doesn't understand why. Though he can logically reason why he would. The Big Green Guy is too dangerous. Anger issues, other repressed issues. He wants to say Bruce is not good enough for her. He doesn't. He holds his tongue and watches as he softly smiles back at her, and he wonders if she's finally managed to break through. Breakthrough Banner's numerous excuses and insecurities.
YOLO is a phrase Banner does not take to heart.
He takes them into his family home. He sees her try again and it looks like this time. This time she's finally broken through. He's given her hope. At least she looks happy and that same feeling comes again. The same pierce in his chest hits and he feels like a complete and utter asshole. He should be happy for her, for them. One part of him is happy for her but another is selfish. He feels hurt and he doesn't understand why. He has a wife, a family, a life Natasha can never have. He should be happy she can at least have him. Experience love, romantic love.
It's too much for him to witness. He tells himself and his family he's giving them their space, their privacy. Laura buys it completely. Why shouldn't she? He has been nothing but loyal. It's unfair he shouldn't have feelings for more than one woman. That's not what heroes do, that's not what life is about.
As usual everything turns to shit. The good comes with the bad. The bad is that they won against Ultron but the cost. The cost is too much. He feels the need to retire. So, he does yet Natasha stays.
Bruce disappears and he can see that Natasha is hurt and disappointed. He can't tell which feeling prevails. She looks more hurt than worried. He can only suspect that something happened up in the jet. He wants to ask but he knows it's not his place to ask. He has his own life and family to worry about. He chose to run. It's his loss.
He's angry for Natasha yet another part feels relieved. Natasha deserved better, someone who wouldn't push her away. Someone who knows her worth, someone who would risk his life for her. Someone like himself.
And now all he feels is guilt.
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Day 3- Late
“Clinton Francis Barton!”
He cringes at the use of his full name, turning to look at the angry redhead at his front door.
“Nat, why are you all… oh shit.”
“Shower. Now.”
He scrambles toward the bathroom, the sound of her heels clicking on the floor behind him. He picks up the pace.
“Three text messages I sent you and- going to be late- the last time you’ve shaved-“
Her voice cuts in and out over the sound of rushing water as he furiously scrubs shampoo into his hair. And now there’s soap in his eye. He doesn’t have time for soap in his eye. He doesn’t have time at all. She flings the shower curtain open and he stumbles back, throwing an arm across his body for modesty.
“Natasha!”
I can’t find your dress socks.”
“In the.. the… the nightstand drawer.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
She retreats, and he steps out, pulling on a pair of boxers she left on the vanity. He messes his hair with the towel in a futile attempt to dry it.
“Natasha?”
“In here.”
Piece by piece, he pulls on his suit as quick as he can. She pushes him back into the kitchen chair she’s dragged into his bedroom.
“Do we really need-?”
A raise of her eyebrows is all it takes to quiet him. He hates hair gel, but she insists on it. Her fingers work through the damp tangles, forming it into some sort of style.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.
“Let me help with your tie.” Her voice is much more gentle now, less hurried as she pats the knot by his throat. “There.”
“Thanks.”
“Let’s get going. Our ride is waiting outside.”
“Wait, one more thing.” Confused, she turns back. “You look beautiful, Natasha.”
He’s pleased to see a flush in her cheeks as he leans in, the kiss lasting just longer than a moment, and she’s trying not to smile as he steps away.
“You owe me a dance for this.”
“For you, anything.”
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We're back! Get ready for another Clintasha advent! From December 1st to the 25th we will be posting a prompt everyday with the full list coming out in advance at the end of the week. We will RTing all the amazing fanworks using the #clintasha advent 2022, to the Clintashaweek account.
However, we just want to remind you of a three simple ground rules,
1) No farm family
2) Other ships are allowed but they shouldn't contain Clint or Natasha unless they eventually end up together.
3) There's no need to include spoilers warnings anymore but please always include any ratings or warnings.
As always the FAQs are linked here
Get planning and we can't wait to see what you all create!
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Clintasha Advent.
Secret Santa.
“Who did you get for secret Santa?” Clint asks, looking over to where Natasha is sitting.
“I don’t need to tell you?”
It’s more of a question than a statement, and Clint is torn between his curiosity of knowing who she got and being truthful.
“It’s Tony isn’t it?”
He opts for neither.
“No,” she says slowly, “and it’s not you in case that’s your next question.”
Clint slowly does the math.
If he has Steve, and Tony has Natasha, and Natasha has neither him or Tony; then Natasha has Bruce.
The others fall into place.
He laughs, triumphantly.
“Okay.”
#clintasha advent 2022#clintasha#natasha romanoff#black widow#clint barton#my fic#clintasha fanfic#100 word fic#day 13
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Clintasha Advent Day #3 - Late
@clintasha-week
Sharing Christmas with Yelena and Kate was wonderful, really. Natasha couldn’t ask for anything better than time with her sister, the man she loved and her sister’s (sort of) girlfriend. Still, privacy with Clint was something that their little vacation in the middle of nowhere was sorely lacking.
“They’re late getting back, you know?” Clint said, sitting closer to her on the tiny sofa. She nodded and pushed herself up close to him, underneath his arm. “Do you think we should scold them?”
“They’re women in their twenties, not teenagers,” Natasha huffed. “Plus, I’m excited that they’re late.”
“Mhm, why’s that?”
She turned herself so that she was in his arms, but facing him. She crawled up onto his lap and pressed a kiss to his lips. Clint smiled contentedly and kissed her back, eager to please.
“Because,” she said, speaking between kisses, a few words at a time “I want -” she smiled against his lips “to be able,” she kissed him again, “to do this.”
“Oh come on,” Clint said, hand on her cheek. “We could do that with them around.”
“Yes, but then we get ‘ooh gross,’” she said doing a spot on impression of Kate before adopting a Russian accent, “or ‘I’m going to slaughter you both.”
Clint laughed and kissed her again. “Yeah, okay, I like when they’re late.”
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Title: Letting Time Drip Past
Filled:
Clintasha Advent - Day 3 - Late - @clintasha-week
Mood Boarder: Caiti
Relationship: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff
Rating: G
Warnings: Mood board
Summary: “Life was always a matter of waiting for the right moment to act.” – Paulo Coelho
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Clintasha Advent 2022 Day 11: In sickness and in health
It wasn't like Natasha to be late for one of their early morning sparring sessions.
Clint waited an extra ten minutes and double checked his messages just to see if he had missed a reason why she wasn't there before he headed to her room on the base and knocked twice in succession on the door. "Natasha?" he asked, careful to keep his volume measured out of respect to the other sleeping agents in nearby rooms.
No initial response.
He knocked again. "Natasha?" Clear concern bled into his voice. "You okay? Or even in there?"
Another long moment passed to the point he was almost ready to try again when she finally opened the door.
To his immediate worry, she looked haggard and didn't look him directly in the eye. "Not feeling great," she weakly managed to say, her voice hoarse. "Sorry for missing training."
"Forget training," Clint immediately said, sympathy lining his tone, "you just focus on resting." He gave her an appraising once-over and caught a subtle shake in her hands. "Hey," he softly said, prompting her to look at him, her expression surprisingly vulnerable. "I'm just gonna grab a few things and be right back to help, you can just lay down and I'll take care of the logistics, okay?"
"You don't need to do that," she started to insist, her voice barely coming out above a whisper.
He cast her a patient but pointed look. "Partners look out for each other, and trust me, it's not a problem." After a second he added, "Are you okay if I let Coulson know too?"
Natasha was silent for a long moment of clear deliberation before she nodded. "Okay." She narrowed her eyes. "But I don't want to see a doctor."
"Hopefully it's just something that'll pass then," Clint brightly said, knowing it wouldn't escape her notice that he couldn't promise not to encourage her to see a doctor if it was needed.
Regardless, she finally relented into laying back down while he contacted Coulson and collected an assortment of sick day items for health and entertainment before he returned.
"I've got a little bit of everything just to cover our bases," he explained as he unpacked a bag of food items in her small kitchen space. "Have you eaten anything yet?"
Natasha had obligingly stayed in her bed but sat on it instead while wrapped up in a blanket as she watched him move through her space. "I haven't tried, only water."
He nodded. "Any nausea?"
"I don't think so, I'm only generally miserable," she croaked.
"Mmkay, oatmeal sound like a good breakfast? I've got cinnamon apple and maple brown sugar for flavors."
"Cinnamon apple."
"Awesome."
Clint busied himself in food prep and kept conversation going with whatever came to mind as Natasha slowly ate and started to look at least marginally less frightfully pale.
After she finished the oatmeal and let him take the bowl to wash for her she caught his wrist to prompt him to pause. "You don't have to stay with me. I'll manage."
"I'm sure you would, but I don't think you should have to be miserable and alone. Besides," he casually shrugged with one shoulder, "it's probably good for me to take a relaxed day too." After a second he added, "But if you do really want space, just say so and I'll leave."
Her hold slightly tightened around his wrist before she let go. "You can stay if you want."
Clint warmly smiled at her. "Sounds good."
#clintasha advent#clintasha advent 2022#clintasha#clintasha fic#clintashaadvent2022#clint barton#natasha romanoff#monkeyfic
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Unrequited
CLINT
The first man she meets, strikes true.
He likes to say he never misses but she proves that isn't true.
He makes the world around him brighter.
He likes to make her and others laugh.
He wants a wife and kids, a farm, and a house.
She wants to say she could live a double life like he wants.
Though it matters not. He already is.
He has his wife, his kids, his farm, and house.
Even though he's always there for her in the end...
She's too late. She has to find another.
TONY
Is a man of renown. Smart, attractive, rich, he's got it all.
And he really does. Though he's ego blinds him too much to see it.
However, he's smart enough to see it soon enough.
Even if he let's his ego, pride, and self-righteousness guide him.
He means well in the end, he's flawed, real, and deep down.
When she wants a sound mind, a reasonable answer, she goes to him.
And that's what she likes about Stark the most.
BRUCE
Scares her.
He is complex, much like one of his chemical formulas.
He's smart, shy, and handsome.
But moody, angry, and lonely.
Nothing she's drawn to before.
Yet much like his duality. He is always pulling and pushing.
Eventually Green wins out and he is mostly pushing, pushing away.
A time comes when she chooses duty over Bruce.
Hulk over him. And this wounds Bruce deeply.
Trust Broken, Never forgotten.
STEVE
Is the All American Boy Next Door.
Though in a man's body, he's authentic, genuine, caring, and kind.
He's got the charms and looks to get any lady he wants.
However, his heart is already taken.
He's a man out of time and it shakes him to his core.
He too, chooses duty over many things.
Right over wrong.
Steve is her friend, open but available only to a point.
BUCKY
She eyes the Winter Solider hoping he'd look in her direction.
Though just like Bruce he's complex.
Just like Steve he's lost in time.
She wants to say they will get along well.
They both know what it's like to lose one's mind.
To see red and be forced to kill.
However, he's too broken to notice anything else.
He needs to heal and she feels the only person who can do that
is himself.
Until he can love and forgive himself, there is no loving anyone else..
And so Natasha, sits on a rock and contemplates.
All the men and would be lovers.
Yet none could, Love. Not in the way she wanted.
She's left unrequited.
Though one comes close. Closer than all the others.
She's sure of it now when she sees him near.
Sure enough that when she jumps off the cliff.
She stares up at him and feels her heart fleeting, her body falling.
And when she finally hits the ground,
A halo of red appears.
Her body is enveloped in sorrow and pain.
The last thoughts that remain
“Did he love me?”
“Did he love me?”
And the Soul Stone answered...
“Yes he did.”
So I wrote this early this year a little after last December Advent. A prose from Natasha's point of view. I hope you like it. It's totally differnt from other types of submissions.
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