Can I request CG!Clint Barton? Clint is trying to hunt down some sort of spy/assassin whos skill and tactics are very like a WinterSoldier but the missions and victims arent quite fitting the bill for HYDRA.
When he tracks them down he expects someone big and tough, and he can tell they probably are incredibly impressive when at their best, however luckily for him he wont be getting in a physical fight because he has found them regressed.
But of course now he has to take care of them. Ex-HYDRA!Reader. Oh, and gender neutral pronouns for reader if possible? Feel free to take your time! Thank you!
Uncertain circumstances
Author: Okay so I have absolutely been in a severe writing block and I haven’t been super active on tumblr due to it. To whoever gave this prompt I truly hope this lives up to your expectations! It helped me to get some creative ideas running through, and I do think I want to do a part 2, but for now this was all I could muster up. I’m hoping now that i have finished my main assignments for my classes I can focus on writing more! Thank you all so much for y’all’s patience.
Masterlist - all my work!
Word count : ~1.8k
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A spy for hydra has been running Clint in circles for nearly three months. Tricky and challenging in ways he’s never seen before, he finds it odd that he catches them in an alley. Grateful though he brings them back to his base, but discovers other things he wasn’t expecting along the way.
(Cg!Clint Barton/ Cg!Hawkeye is assigned to find you and bring you in to S.H.E.I.L.D but when he finds you, you’re scared and regressed in a alley way. He has to decide how he wants to play this centric out as he brings you back to his base for shelter and safety.)
⚠️Warnings!!⚠️: Mentions of torture, swearing, bad situations, involuntary regression, brainwashing, and possibly other dark themes. Not too dark though !
CG!CLINT BARTON/CG!HAWKEYE X GN!LITTLE
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Clint kneels at the edge of the building, scanning the surrounding area before taking the arrow off his bow, and laying it down. His search for the spy has fallen short once more. It's not that he wasn't good at finding them, or recognizing their tactics, but this one had really stumped him.
One second the spy is out and about, doing their missions that hes able to follow, but then the next they go silent, almost like they vanish off into the distance, none of the times have been for a consistent timing either. Which isn't helpful.
Clint works on climbing off the building, reviewing in his head all the knowledge he has on the person he's been chasing for nearly 3 months.
Climing into his vehicle, he takes back off to his hideout, trying to understand your pattern. It was odd, you would go out, do missions for weeks on end, abruptly stop, dissapear, and then come back 3 days later, a week later, sometimes only disapearing for a few hours. For spies this was odd, most wouldnt stop a mission mid-mission.
Clint heads into his shelter, sitting at the table and setting his gear back up. He prepares like he's going to deal with mothra as he loads back up before getting ready for a few hours of sleep so he can go back once night hits.
He positions himself on the couch directly where the moon should rise in the night. Clear skies means that the moon becomes his sun.
Clint's eyes squint as he awakes from the moonlight shining through the window. He sits up, rubbing his face, the exhaustion of only a few hours of sleep each day slowly catching up to him.
"Man, I'm getting too old for this."
Once Clint gets all his gear back together, he heads back out to his vehicle, heading back to the location he last found you at.
When he gets back to the inner city, he parks his car and begins his wander around the city. His bow and arrow is securely strapped to his back, a split second away from being drawn. Clint keeps a close eye as he walks around, seeing the intoxicated fights grow and fade as the night goes on.
Clint starts to walk by a alley way, until he hears a commotion out of the ordinary. It doesn't sound like two people squaring up, it sounds like a kid stumbiling to shuffle through. Mumbles and squeaks come from the alley as if it was talking, or trying to.
"Hey, kid, it's not safe for you to be out here. Do you have-"
Clint walks halfway throuh the alley before he sees you, and the hydra symbol on your clothes. He quickly draws his bow, aiming it directly at you.
"I search for three months and you get caught in a alley?" He utters under his breath.
You look up at him like a deer in headlights. Eyes dialated so big he's concerned your body has a massive concussion. You're crouched on the ground, hiding as far into the wall as physically possible, hands up to cover your face. You look up at him with a look of pure fear as you watch his hand shake with the arrow directly aimed at you.
The bow lowers as Clint watches your moves, still on guard he slides the arrow back into the pouch on his back before crouching to your level.
"Do you know who I am?" Clint asks, pure curiosity getting the best of him.
You nod slowly to him as you lower your hands from your face, avoiding eye contact with him.
Clint stares at you, confusion etched into his face. Why aren't you attempting to attack him? Or atleast causing him hell with your words? It felt as if he was staring at a actual kid. Maybe you were? There was very little ability to tell your true age.
"Okay, can you tell me what your doing in a alley? You tend to avoid these things." Clint asks, shifting to sit across from you.
You bite your lip, your eyes frantically looking for a way out but to no avail. You try to speak but it's as if your words were stripped from you as Clint sits infront of you.
Clint watches as your mind searches for answers you don't have, and something in him just can't stand it. You clearly didn't know what you were doing either, you were more skilled than most of the spies he'd tracked down, but right now all he could see was a kid, trying to avoid confrontation with their parent.
"Do you know where you are right now?" Clint tries a simpler question.
"C-City?" You mumble out.
"That's.. That's correct, but do you know why your in the city?"
You shake your head, your head lowering.
Clint sighs softly, recognizing the patterns of brain washing hes seen in other hydra spies, and stands up. He stands there contemplating before walking over to you.
You immidately put your hands up, a defense mechanism you've learned and squeak, praying he doesn't hurt you.
"Woah, kid, I'm not going to hurt you. But you are coming with me." Clint says before he reaches down and swings your body over his shoulder.
Clints confusion grows when your body basically goes limp in his hold. He sets you into the back of his car, strapping you in. He contemplates warning you not to attempt anything, but with the way you cower in on yourself, and the dialation of your eyes, he isn't sure he needs to.
Clint drives you both back to his base, and he slings you back over his shoulder to get you inside. He walks to the cell S.H.E.I.L.D created to be able to contain you when he caught you.
Clint sets you gently onto the bed in the room before walking and sealing the door. You curl up into the corner of the bed, legs to your chest and back pressed to the wall.
Clint grabs a chair, sitting outside the cell. He watches you hide yourself into the corner, confusion continuing to build in his head.
Clints seen these responces before, but not from spies, and it's throwing him off. Every single action he's seen from you within the last 2 hours has been almost that of a 4 year old. Clint knows exactly what age regression is, he's even helped Bucky and Steve with their little before.
Was this what this was? How badly had you been treated that even through all the brain washing your brain needed the coping mechanism? How much did you remember of your life?
"Can you answer some questions?" Clint evenutally breaks the silence.
You look up at him, finally making eye contact with him and nodding.
"How old are you?"
"I..I don know.. The peoples don't tell me no more."
"How old do you feel?"
You hold up your fingers, trying to count your age before showing him 5 fingers.
Clint's head feels like a lightbulb was lit. He was right.
He sighs, hating that he has to basically keep a child in a cage but he has no other choices.
"Okay, look, I'm not going to interrogate you tonight. Get some sleep, but you can't get out of this cell. Both because it's hulk-proof and also because I'm going to help you."
Clint gets up, leaving the chair infront of the cell, looking at you. He waits a few moments for a responce, but all you do is look at him. He takes that as a good enough answer before walking off back to his work station.
Around 30 minutes go by before he hears your sniffles, and he cracks. He walks back over to the cell peering in. You're in the corner, tears streaming down your face and your face crumbling the more you hold in your unknown emotions.
Clint contemplates for a brief second before just deciding to open the cell, walking over and sitting next to you. He opens his arms, letting you practically climb into his arms. The tears continue to seep, and your hands cling to his harness. He rocks you softly, keeping you close, assuring you no one is going to hurt you anymore.
Once you're able to calm down, atleast enough where your breathing is consistent and your tears have slowed. Clint gently lays you down on the bed, tucking the blanket under your chin and brushing your hair out of your face. He leaves the cell, the squeak of the door is the last memory you have before you pass out from exhaustion.
The rest of the night goes by quietly, you stay asleep as the time passes by but Clint doesn't sleep. He can't.
His mind races through reporting back to S.H.E.I.L.D or keeping you safe here until he's able to break you some, help you where he can, to prove your better under his care. He refuses to cause you more harm. Just like when he came in contact with Natasha, there was something he just couldn't do then, and he wont now either.
Clint hears you shuffle around 6am, and he heads over to your cell. Your siting up in the bed, rubbing your eyes clear of the exhaustion. When you look up to him your eyes are less dialated, but still cloudy.
When you register who and what your looking at, panic races through your veins, and you fall off the bed onto the floor.
"No, nonono, your kidding me, this was not what I wanted to wake up to. I'm so screwed." You mutter, your fists clenching.
"Hey, woah, look, I haven't alerted anyone that I have you. Currently the only people who know is me, and you." Clint reassures, sitting in the seat he left the night before.
"Do you remember me bringing you here?"
"No, I don't."
"That's okay. You seemed a little young mentally, it doesn't exactly surprise me that with whatever youv've gone through and im assuming your age regression, don't mix well."
Your eyes widen and your eyebrows raise at him. How the hell did he know exactly what your brain was doing? Your mind begins to cluter with questions, but your mouth stays shut, your training of staying quiet coming into play.
"Look, I can't get you to talk, but I need you to understand you're not going back." Clint assures.
"I always go back. No one can keep them away." You retort, your eyes narrowing in on the man infront of you.
"Not this time. You aren't the first I've saved. I will keep you safe in here for now until I figure out how to help you. You're safe now." Clint gets up.
You study him, trying to understand why he's so adamant about you staying with him. You don't exactly understand, but you slowly nod to his words.
"Good. Get some more sleep, we'll talk once you're more stable. I've got you." He reassures once more.
With a look at him, you listen. Your body deciding that you might as well get the rest you haven't had in years.
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Holy thank God I finally decided to give my headcanons an actual format. And it's good I chose this occasion because there is a YAPATHON up ahead! So here's headcanons with the orginal 6! Hope you enjoy!
Hcs under the cut :)
🛠TONY STARK🛠
Caregiver:
- Oh, Mister Stark, we know all the other caregivers are jealous of your swagger.
- He makes sure his littles want to sing his praises. How does he do that, you may ask?
- Spoiling the heck out of them. That's how.
- If what you want just barely toes the line of reason, you'll have it by Monday, maybe quicker if Tony can manage it.
- He will be building you the most lavish and amazing never-before-seen toys from scratch and just smile and hand it to you like "It was nothing!"
- Tony you spent the last three weeks in the shop swearing under your breath and welding, I think it was something.
- Would probably code you a whole video game series if you asked nicely enough.
- But even with all the perks, Tony is still, well Tony.
- "Why do I have to do this?" "Because I said so."
- "What are we having to eat tonight?" "Food."
- "Where are we going?" "Out."
- He really does have that ever so slightly condescending parent tone down!
- Because giving simple, straight answers is overrated I guess.
- But one thing you can't say Tony doesn't do is try.
- He tries to give you rules and routines, enforcing them is a whole other thing, but he sure does give you them!
- He doesn't have much of a role model when it comes to correctly caring for... well... anyone but himself.
- But he's getting there!
Little:
- Treats it like his dirty little secret if I'm being honest.
- He knows it's nothing to be ashamed of, but he is anyways.
- So if you caught him cuddling Bucky Bear in his Captain America hoodie, no you didn't.
- But still real big into teen regression when he can. Sometimes he can get as little as toddler, but it's rarer.
- His regression can also mix quite a bit! He's a "Dragging my baby blankie along while playing Mortal Kombat" kind of guy.
- One of his favorite things to do when he's in teen space is get on people's nerves.
- Not only are rules below him, they are currently FAR under ground boiling away at the center of the earth.
- But at the same time it's almost like an... honor? When Tony trusts you enough, he's more prone to misbehaving because he knows you won't be too harsh with him.
- But on that note, don't let him get away with anything, as he will remember it for the rest of time and use it against you.
- Then at night when he settles down, he sleeps with the most peaceful and content look on his face after raising hell, just so you know it's still Tony at the end of the day.
🇺🇲STEVE ROGERS🇺🇲
Caregiver:
- You want a firm and direct caregiver who knows what he wants when he asks for it. You've found your guy!
- Rules and schedules his beloved, having a list of all that's to be done in a day with his little all laid out? Beautiful, perfection. Give him fifteen more.
- And, if you're feeling a certain age when little, a "fun" little thing a part of that schedule is completing your chore chart. Yay....
- But no worries, after you're all done with it, go forth and conquer, do what you want! Just don't break something or you.
- But, just to save you some time, I don't recommend you constantly complain to him about being bored because no, he will not hand you a screen.
- Color, read a book, listen to music, make up a story, GO OUTSIDE, climb a tree, pick at grass, dig a hole, throw rocks! Because he sure as heck isn't going to shove you in front of a screen for hours on end to get you overstimulated.
- Not to mention, Steve just doesn't get cartoons. Sigh.
- He would much rather just play games with you instead! He has tons of board games, and he knows a thing or two about making something up on the spot. He pretty much spent his whole childhood just playing pretend!
- Also, the undefeated seeker in hide and seek. It's rumored he can find a little in two seconds flat.
- Though, that's after he goes through the whole stict of "Wow, just where could they have gone!" As he casually ignores the suspiciously you-shaped lump in the bed he just strolled by.
- He has to indulge you, really, he can't help himself.
Little:
- "Who made this mess?" Probably Steve. "Who is causing all that racket?" Probably Steve. "Who scribbled all over the walls?" Definitely Steve.
- If you thought he was a punk before, just you wait and see.
- CONSTANTLY dragging his other little friends into trouble.
- They just follow him because he's the captain! Of course they do! Also, because he won't snitch if they get in trouble.
-His little age is about 4-12 so he's always pretty active!
- Loves to make messes. Big ones.
- Dirt is EVERYWHERE peas are on the WALLS
- But at least he knows better and cleans it up after. Most of the time.
- Very peculiar and picky, and when he doesn't like something (even if it's something he just liked yesterday), he will make that obvious
- "No, I don't WIKE that flavor! I want MY flavor." (He will expect you to know what 'my flavor' is)
- "I said I wanted the RED crayon! That is the wrong red!" (Well, Stevie, how was that innocent person supposed to know that??)
- This leads him to often be told to "Please use your words!"
- Okay. Bet.
- And it's just a flurry of curses and excessive babbles
- And that's how he landed his butt in time out.
🕸NATASHA ROMANOFF🕸
Caregiver:
- Everything is SOFT, WARM, CUDDLY, AND FUZZY!!
- Will give you the childhood she didn't get.
- Do NOT let her shop when she's all up in her caregiver feels. She will bring home like 12 bags worth talking bout some "I was thinking of you"
- Thank you. That much has been made very apparent!
- Likes having you around wherever she goes.
- She finds it weird without clumsy little feet constantly under hers.
- Rules are loose and enforced... mostly.
- But don't take her as a pushover now. She can be real firm and not-so-nice real quick. Especially when it comes to your safety.
- "I said no." Yes, Ms. Romanoff, you did you are SO RIGHT
- Sighhh, but she doesn't wanna be firm. She wants to let you braid her hair and have movie nights ☹️
- She just wants to be a fun mom, and she is!
- Like yeah, I'm going to give you orange slices with your Uncrustable (half frozen as it should be) but like I'm not going to hassle you to eat them all and you will be getting cookies later even if you don't.
- And yes, she DOES know what time bedtime is, but we can just ignore that and watch a Disney film instead.
- Also, what is hers is yours.
- For clothes? Wear hers! A place to sleep? Her bed has room! Her snacks? Actually, no, you can't have those 😒...
- Don't worry, I'm like, only half joking. You can have a little.
Little:
- Sweetest little devil on planet Earth.
- She's just gonna sit in the mirror and put her hair up and braids and ask someone if they like her shoes because she likes theirs and and-/silly
- Her little age is commonly 6-10!
- Really sweet, like I said, but also protective and defensive of herself and her things.
- She doesn't like to share, and she doesn't like being wrong or challenged.
- Like you can touch her stuffie if you WANT something hard thrown at your head.
- She needs a lot of patience.
- Because she has a habit of snapping and I can assure you, those years in the Red Room won't disappear as soon as she's in littlespace, she can snap your arms like carrot sticks on a bad day. And on a good day too...
- Anyways...
- LOVES to use some temporary dye in this space and make her hair cool colors.
- Give her a sticker sheet? And stickers will find their way onto EVERYTHING.
- Her. The walls. Her toys. You. Everyone. Everything.
- "'Tasha. You know you have to clean all this up, right?" "But... do I HAVE to?"
- Sigh... I'm afraid so Nat. The adults are jealous of your swagger 😮💨
- She's also got a sweet tooth and is quite into baking, no matter the age!
- But her skills in said baking, to put it kindly, deplete when she's in little space.
- No worries though, there's a cookie jar raid at two o'clock.
⚒️THOR ODINSON⚒️
Caregiver:
- Can I interest you in a giant, walking, talking teddy bear?
- Like, that whole "being a god" thing?
- Watch all of that get thrown out the window around his little. You can walk all over him, and he will watch on with a goofy smile.
- Rules? Never heard of them. Just don't get hurt.
- He will blame you for nothing. If you start very consciously dumping your lunch on the floor, it's obviously the lunch's fault.
- And when I say you can walk all over him, I MEAN IT.
- You can do pretty much anything to him, and he will accept it.
- You could be using him as your personal jungle gym, pulling on his beard and at the same time, smearing his face with play make-up, and he will just on occasion remind you to be careful and gentle.
- He also loves telling you stories!
- Hundreds of years across the nine realms, he's gotta have something to show for it.
- They will be dramatized to the max, and he will be getting offended if you don't laugh at the funny parts.
- "Why aren't you laughing? You're listening to me, right? I knocked out a dragon. That is hilarious."
- Of course, Thor, of course. It's very good then 🙂/silly/ref
- Thor may get a bit lost comforting, though, except for two types.
- One, thunderstorm comfort. It's just a little bit of ol' Thor messing around, nothing to be scared of.
- And two, nightmare comfort. Thor has been protecting Loki against the nightmare monsters since the boy was adopted. He's got that down pact.
- Of course you can lay down with him! And if anyone tries to hurt you, they will feel his wrath!
- Easy peasy.
Little:
- Well, well, well, if it isn't troublemaker number two.
- If Steve is Captain trouble, Thor is his second in command.
- Whatever he wants to do, Thor is DOWN.
- And people hardly ever blame him because he acts like he doesn't know any better (even when he DOES)
- His age range can vary from teeny tiny baby to young adult, so you never know what you're gonna get.
- It doesn't help that Thor usually doesn't tell anyone! Like ever! He just kinda fails to mention it!
- The whole team can be kinda suspecting it all day, dropping hints to Thor if he needs to be taken care of, which Thor then promptly ignores.
- They only figure out in the middle of a mission when someone is getting on his case for being inattentive and irresponsible, and he starts blubbering about only being three.
- Like we understand that, buddy, but you could have mentioned that a little sooner!
- But when he's not making the team question their morals, he likes playing, and he likes playing ROUGH!
- Tug-of-war and wrestling? Awesome! But his favorite game is "Let's throw toys!"
- His caregivers DON'T agree unfortunately.
- He tires OUT his caregivers, like no joke.
- Making super soldiers sleepy and practically tearing the Hulk's arm out of his socket? Thor's done it all.
- And again, he does it with the sweetest smile on his face.
🧪BRUCE BANNER🧪
Caregiver:
- Hi, this is your caregiver, Bruce Banner, and he has no idea what he's doing!
- Children are covered in germs and sticky and loud and raise his blood pressure. Did I already mention they're covered in germs?
- All in all, Bruce isn't the best with kiddos. He has no idea how to hold a baby and parenting books have proven to be useless.
- But he wants to do right by you so he tries really hard.
- He gets you treats when you're good when you two go out.
- Let's you doddle on one end of his white board as he like, I dunno, makes a cure for everything on the other side.
- His big ol textbooks become your stools and his lab? Your own personal play area.
- He's a bit of a (lot of a) protective velcro caregiver.
- Not in the "GRRR! Angry! Stay away!" Kind of way, that's all Hulk's job, more in a:
- "Hey! Wait for me! Don't go too far and don't touch that! Don't touch anything anymore! I should just put you in bubble wrap at this point!" Kind of way.
- And if he could find a way to ACTUALLY wrap you in bubblewrap, he would.
- But his attempts have proven unsuccessful.
- His favorite thing to do with you above all is just teach you stuff!
- Reading you books, explaining how things work, describing and dissecting things, Bruce feels he's actually good at that kind of stuff, so, he incorporates it into how he cares for you.
- Gets you the books where you trace letters and gives you a little slate to do lessons on and everything.
- And all the stuff you watch is either educational or Bob Ross, which is pretty much the same thing.
- Because Bruce has class.
Little:
- And this is where things get a little sad ☹️
- Toddler to teen regressor, but he keeps a similar theme no matter the space.
- Keeps to himself and rarely talks unless spoken to. If you just left him sitting somewhere for hours, he probably wouldn't even move.
- He likes to hide, typically under the bed with the lights off, reading from the stack of books under his bed by flashlight.
- That's his safe space where it's quiet and calm and he only shows it to people he truly trusts.
- He actually just really loves his room in general, especially for any and all sleeping purposes.
- They should call him Bruce "Is it time for night-night?" Banner because if he IS talking, that's the question he's asking.
- "Can we go night-night now?" Brucey, it's 10 am, you've been up for an hour and a half. You just had breakfast. It isn't time for night-night just yet.
- But even with that, he still finds ways to sleep often.
- When regressed, no matter WHAT time of day, he is always in jammies.
- The best he can do for "real" clothes is long socks and a sweater, sometimes featuring his lab coat!
- Though, when he's little, it tends to be used as more of a makeshift blanket more than anything else.
🏹CLINT BARTON🏹
Caregiver:
- Anyone else wanna do an arrow trick shot on a motorcycle going through a ring of fire while eating a taco? You do? Good, because Clint wants to do it too and we should do it RIGHT NOW, before it gets too dark out!
- And that pretty much sums up Clint as your caregiver.
- The most irresponsible, responsible fun dad you know.
- Like you can do whatever, but not without that first-aid kit in tow (more so for him than for you at this point)
- Like that dude is covered in band-aids no matter what, it's unavoidable (he's also covered in stickers, thanks to you and Natasha.)
- And like I was saying, total fun dad.
- He is down for any game at any time, like he also wants to do a fairy princess tea party at one am, just don't get caught!
- And yes we can stay up past our bedtime doing target practice and throwing around the football, why not??? Just don't complain about being sleepy the next day!
- And Clint can make about just any boring, mundane task, seem like the time of your life.
- Getting groceries seems like a dull, grown-up thing to do but not if we're pretending to race through the aisles like F1 racers and trying not to hit a display case, which yes, Clint has done. MORE than once.
- Because of all the stuff he pulls, he really is a "Do as I say, not as I do." Type.
- Like when I give you an order, you listen and you do it, because I feel it is in your best interest. But whatever you see me do, do the EXACT opposite because it's either illegal, dangerous, both, or just plain unwise.
- But Clint can have his calm moments, especially when he's just on the farm with his family.
- Trying and failing at baking, sitting out on the porch swing, and reading bedtime stories.
- He contains multitudes, what can I say?
Little:
- "Clint Francis Barton, now just what do you think you're doing?!" "I don't think you wanna know..." DISTANT EXPLOSIONS
- Holy kid regressor!
- He loves action figures and toy weapons and comic books and climbing EVERYTHING like, ALL THE TIME.
- It's a little concerning at this point, like get down off the fridge Clint, that's not where you belong.
- Clint tends to like his share of attention, like once someone has their eyes on him and gets him going he won't ever stop.
- Ask him a question about his favorite cartoon of the week or about his favorite type of car if you want him calm and sitting for a couple of hours, because Clint's tangents have tangents and when he is sat, he is SAT.
- But when you ask him something, don't get offended if he doesn't respond, because often when he's little, he doesn't wear his hearing aids.
- He absolutely HATES the feeling of them and won't be putting them in unless forced to, so most conversations with Clint is just a lot of "HUH???" and him leaning in to read your lips.
- And then other times he can be hearing you just fine and just chooses not to respond because he doesn't like what he's hearing.
- Little crap hole, he deserves the world.
ANYWAYS wiping imaginary sweat off my brow that was a LOT!! If you actually stayed and read that whole thing I love you 😭🙏🏽/silly/p
could you do regressor kate hurt/comfort?? maybe she’s just had a bad day or something and gets extra attention n cuddles?? can be with any caregiver :3c thank youuu !!!
hehe ofc I can do that !! Honestly idk why I haven’t written baby Katie before !!!
Kate screws up on a mission and is worried Clint will be angry with her. No reason to worry though, her Dada is always gonna be there for her!!
Tw: blood, injuries, it’s not edited…
Word count: 1435
💜🏹🧸🏙️
She’d screwed up. Kate knew that. The mission had been a complete fail. Usually it wouldn’t have mattered that much, she could figure out how to fix it, but this was different. Clint had come specifically to help her with this mission and she’d screwed it up while he was there. Her chest felt tight and her stomach ached as she curled into herself on her hotel bed. Her head was filled with a loop of thoughts, she wasn’t good enough, Clint was going to hate her. Plus, she had gotten cut pretty bad on the shoulder and it hurt so much. Too much. Kate felt so small. She hated that she did, if she didn’t she’d be able to figure out a way to fix all this. But she couldn’t. She felt little and alone, and all she wanted was her Dada. But she couldn’t ask for that, not now, not when she’d messed everything up because Clint was definitely mad at her now.
When she heard the bathroom door open Kate pulled the bedsheets up over her head. She didn’t want Dada to see she’d been crying and worry about her. The sheets were stark white and clean, she felt gross and dirty in comparison. “Kate?” Clint’s voice was muffled through the sheets.
“Sleepin,” Kate lied, her lip wobbling as she tried to bite back tears.
“Oh you’re sleeping?” Clint questioned, catching onto her regressed mindspace, “You’re very talkative for a sleepy baby,” he teased lightly.
“M not a baby,” Kate huffed, poking her head out of the sheets so that he could see the very cross look on her face.
“Ah there’s my girl,” Clint cooed, crouching down beside the bed. Kate sniffled, reaching up to rub at her face. “Oh Katie, what happened to your arm?” Kate froze, looking down to realise that the sheets beneath her shoulder had become soaked with blood. Her blood. Kate whimpered, the sight of the blood scaring her enough to crawl out from under the sheets and reach for her Dada. “Oh sweet girl.” Clint sighed, pulling Kate into his arms.
“Owies Daddy,” She whined, burying her face in his shoulder. She really didn’t want Dada to see that she was crying because she was supposed to be a big girl and big girls didn’t cry. Big girls didn’t mess up their missions, and big girls don't need their Daddys to help them. Clint gently stroked Kate’s back with his firm, calloused hand.
“I bet it feels very owie, it’s ok to cry,” Kate sniffled. “Yeah? You’re allowed to cry. That’s right baby girl.” Clint was holding her so gently, she didn’t think she deserved it. Still, he didn’t seem to be mad about the mission at all. She was his baby. That was ok. “How about we get you cleaned up monkey, does that sound ok?” It didn’t sound ok, getting owies cleaned up always hurt. Still, if Dada thought it was a good idea Kate could be brave.
Clint held her hand as they walked to the bathroom, which Kate was glad for as otherwise she didn’t think she’d have been brave enough to move. Part of her wished Dada could carry her but she knew that was especially hard after missions. Clint helped her up onto the bench and handed Kate her pacifier, she hadn’t noticed him grabbing it. She slipped it into her mouth, grateful for the comfort it provided because her arm was really hurting. “Alright little hawk, can we take a look at what we’re working with?” Kate nodded, letting Clint help her to manoeuvre her arm out of the sleeve. He frowned at the sight of the gash across her shoulder. “Well this is no good now is it?” He tutted. “Dadas gonna clean you up now, is that ok?” Kate nodded, though her tummy felt tight and anxious.
Clint cleaned and wrapped Kate’s shoulder with one hand so she could hold the other. It did help a bit to be able to hold Dada but by the time he was finished she was sniffling and her face was damp with tears. “You were so brave for me Katie,” he praised. Kate didn’t feel particularly brave but if daddy thought so it had to be true. “How about some juice and cartoons?” That was exactly what Kate wanted, what she needed, really. The fact that Clint knew this had tears in her eyes all over again. “Oh baby, why are you crying?” Kate sniffled, leaning against Clint so her face was buried against his shoulder.
“Dada,” she mumbled, mainly because it was the only thing she felt big enough to say.
“Oh you’re feeling really small, aren’t you?” His voice was soft, no trace of judgement. Kate nodded, not moving her head from his shoulder. “Alright then.” Clint picked her up off the counter. Kate knew it had to be hard for him but she was too overwhelmed by the comfort to get down. He carried her out of the bathroom and laid her on his bed. Hers was sufficiently stained with blood from her shoulder.
“Do you want to get changed yourself or would you like Daddy’s help?” Clint asked, gently smoothing down Kate’s hair. Kate pointed to Clint with her uninjured arm. She knew she could be very independent when she needed to but right now everything just hurt and she wanted Dada to figure things out.
It was a struggle to manoeuvre Kate out of her suit without moving her injured arm. She felt awful but Clint whispered gentle reassurances the whole time to calm her down. He dressed her in one of his shirts because the baggy fit was much easier to get on. After the ordeal it was just to get the shirt on, Kate was ready for bed. Clint tutted as she tried to climb under the covers. “Come on baby, we’re not ready yet,” He chastised, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Kate pouted, she really wanted cuddles. “Do you want a pullup?” Kate huffed and nodded, laying back so Clint could get her changed. He did so quickly, helping her into some pyjama shorts afterwards.
Finally, it was time for bed. Clint slipped into the bed next to her, he smelt of toothpaste and antiseptic. It wasn’t the most comforting smell in the world but underneath it all there was the distinct smell of his cologne which lingered on every item of clothing he owned. She buried herself against his side, resting her injured arm over his stomach. Clint reached across the small gap between the two beds, grabbing Kate’s toy hippopotamus, Miles. He gently pressed the toy’s soft nose to her cheek. “Miles says it's bedtime,” Clint explained. Kate went to reach for the toy but winced when she moved her arm too far. “Oh sweet girl,” Clint cooed, gently stroking Kate’s cheek. She whimpered, tears blooming in her eyes. Everything was wrong. Her arm hurt, she couldn’t cuddle her stuffie, big Kate was in trouble, the mission had been bad. She was so bad.
“Hey, hey,” Dada’s voice was firm, he could see the train of thought speeding around Kate’s mind. “Where’d you go monkey?”
Kate whimpered, sniffling sadly, “Been such a bad girl.” Clint’s heart broke at that, knowing his baby girl felt so guilty and uncomfortable. “Big Katie was bad, made Dada mad,”
“No, no, Katie, baby,” Clint cooed, “You were not bad. Not at all,” he assured her. “And Dada isn’t mad at you, not big or little, ok?” Kate sniffled a bit, rubbing her damp cheek against Clint’s shoulder because her only uninjured arm was pinned beneath her body so that she could stay as cuddled up to her Dada as possible. Clint reached over and gently wiped the rest of her tears away. His fingers were rough and calloused against the raw skin under her eyes yet he moved with such precision and delicacy that Kate barely noticed. “Now, I think I promised someone cartoons didn’t I?” Kate nodded happily, an immediate shift in her demeanour now she knew that she definitely was not in trouble.
“Curious George?” She requested excitedly.
“Of course, little Hawk.” Clint turned on the tv and found Kate’s program, Curious George, which was one of Kate’s all time favourites while she was little. Clint believed that Kate was somewhat like his own little curious monkey.
“Thank you Dada,” Kate hummed contentedly as she rested her head on his chest, slowly slipping into a space between awake and asleep.
“Anytime monkey,” Clint cooed gently, stroking Kate’s hair as she fell asleep.
If you find the time could you write a Clint comfort fic?
🌺 I give you flower as thanks for all your hard work
Wisdom ouchies
So, I finally got to this request even though it's been a request for quite a while. I'm so sorry for my backup in requests but I'm doing my best to get to them now! I hope you like this although I'm sure you've been able to heal. I hope you're doing well!!
Masterlist - All my work!
Warnings⚠️: Mentions of wisdom tooth removal surgery, mentions of laughing gas, mentions of pain, if i missed anything let me know!
CG!Clint Barton x GN!Little reader
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The car ride here was brutal, for both you and Clint, the tears broke your baba’s heart as he strapped you into the car. He didn’t want to take you to get this minor surgery, but he had no choice.
Your tear-stained face is something he hates to see, but as he gently picks you up from the car seat it's all he can see. Gently kissing your cheeks, he carries you into the oral surgeon’s office.
“Baba, I don’t want it.. Please..” you mutter softly, hiding into his neck like your life depended on it. Praying that you wouldn’t have to get the ouchies.
“I know baby, but you need it, you’ve been in so much pain.” Clint softly sighs, kissing your temple.
You shake your head the waterworks slowly rising again. You were scared of the pain that was to come afterwards.
Your name is eventually called and Clint carries you into the room, sitting down with you on his lap as he goes over things with the assistants. Once he finishes getting some basic questions down he gently takes your face out of his neck, kissing your nose.
“Baby I gotta move you to the chair right there okay? I’ll be sitting right next to you the entire time.” He gestures to the scary chair and as much as you want to protest, you slowly nod your head.
Clint smiles softly and helps get you settled in the dental chair before sitting right next to you as he promised.
A nurse eventually comes in and give you some of that loopy gas, making you slowly fall asleep as they get to work removing your teeth.
…
Your eyes slowly open and look around, finding yourself in your bedroom, curled into your bed. You go to move before your face starts to throb and ache like nothing you’ve felt before.
Slowly remembering the day prior you stir and want to cry but it hurts too much to. Clint walks back in from the bathroom to see you sitting up with a face of discomfort written all over your face and body language.
He quickly but calmly walks over to you, wrapping you in his embrace as you softly cry from the pain.
“Good morning babydoll, let’s get you some meds yeah?” He gently whispers as he carries you to the kitchen, getting a cup with no straw, a snack, and some pain meds before walking to the living room.
Seeing the couch is set up for a day with your baba, the feeling of gratefulness fills your chest. He gently helps you eat a snack and take your pain meds before wrapping you in a blanket with your favorite stuffy.
“A few days without any sippys or pacis baby, we don’t want dry sockets. Baba’s gonna be here the entire time okay? Baba’s job can wait.”You look at him and realize that even though your in excruciating pain, this would all be okay.
He was here to keep you comfortable and safe. There was nothing better than baba’s attention all day long for however long you needed him for. It would be okay.
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Could you write some hawkeye fluff pleaseee (no pressure)
💐 Take these for all your hard work
Bath time!
A/N - I really hope you like this anon!! This was such a cute idea in my head and I portrayed it as gender neutral as I can. Here's to my first post in October! More is absolutely coming! I love you all, thank you for your love and support recently.
Masterlist - all my work!
Warnings!⚠️ : Reader is being bathed! General fluff and cuteness, Baba Hawkeye (Clint Barton) x gn!little reader. Please read at your own discretion. Let me know if I missed anything!!
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The splashing of the water and the sound of your laugh echoed down the halls of tower as you happily played in the water of your newly drawn bath. Your caregiver sits quietly laughing at your antics of playing in the water. You had been his little for quite some time and he was always fond of how much you loved your time in the water.
“Baba look!” You happily wail out, showing him how your newly bought bathtoys were able to shoot water out. You may or may not have aimed it right at your baba.
“Yeah sweetheart i do see.” He quickly reaches for a towel, wiping up the water that has ended up on the walls outside the bathtub.
You laugh as he takes some bubbles and places them on your head, giving you the most bubbly hat in all the land. He kisses your nose before he stand up and grabs your hair washing cup off the counter.
“Okay sweetheart, can I have you put your head back for me? Lets get your hair washed and then you can continue to play.”
Your baba hands you a washcloth to cover your eyes just incase water spills over, although he still makes sure to hold his hand to your hairline just as a second measure aswell. His fingers scrub your head softly as he makes it all fluffy and foamy from the shampoo.
He carefully makes sure that your hair is all rinsed out before he threads the conditioner through your hair, kissing your forehead once its all in, letting you know you have five minutes of playtime before you rinse out your hair and get out of the bath.
You immediately go back to playing with your toys, squealing when hawkeye saves the day in your imaginary world, just like he saved you in your true world. He became your safe place on the days you needed him most, and he gave you a home when you didn’t have one.
The clock continues to tick by as your conditioner soaks in, and your playing is still as loud as ever. Your baba laughs as he watches you act out his major plays that hes either told you about or you’ve seen on the news after the avengers saved new york.
The timer goes off and Clint stands back up, he grabs your bin for your toys and holds it infront of you, letting you know its time to start to calm down and get ready to get out of the bath and ready for bed. Once all your super hero friends have gone off into their next mission, one you’ll surely make next bath, you tilt your head back and let your baba rise out the conditioner from your now cleaned hair.
He makes sure to help you clean your body aswell before he unplugs the drain and grabs a warmed towel. He helps you to stand up before he traps your body in a warm towel hug, drying you off aswell as putting you back in the safety of his arms.
You squeal as he picks you up and carries you to your shared room, and helps you to get comfortably changed into your favorite pajamas.
By the end of the night, your all wrapped up safely in your Baba’s arms, your favorite movie playing in the background, and your comfort items securely in your possession.
Your Baba makes sure to play with your hair and rub your back until your sound asleep, and then he joins you in dreamland, where you both make your own adventures. Together.
I love comic Clint Barton, he's literally my dad! He may be an unconventional caregiver, but he's mine and I love him!! ☹️☹️☹️
Having toast and coffee for breakfast, and noodles and take out for lunch and dinner. Sprawling all our supplies out on the living room floor and making trick arrows! Having Kate visit us and eating donuts as we watch the crap thats happening on the news!
would you write more regressor kate mayb :3c i loved your last one so so much! you can pick a caregiver, but i was thinking of her getting back from a solo mission and just needing some time 2 be a baby with her cg
Little!Kate Bishop x Cg!Laura Barton
May have adapted this one a little bit because I really wanted to write cg!Laura :3 hope you enjoy anyway!!
Word count: 669
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Kate watched guiltily over Clint’s resting body. Clint was supposed to be retired but Kate kept getting him into trouble. She’d been really struggling with her first solo mission, lacking the resources to hack into the website she’d needed, she’d called Clint and he’d ended up sticking around to help her. She should’ve sent him home but selfishly she’d enjoyed having him there to take care of her, but then he’d gotten shot. They were back at the farm now, Kate watching over Clint as he slept peacefully on the high strength pain medication Laura somehow had stocked. Kate felt sick with guilt, it was her fault he’d gotten injured. It was just them in the room now, and given how knocked out Clint was, Kate was practically alone. She couldn’t help herself from feeling small as she watched him lay there. She pulled her knees up to her chest, curling in on herself for comfort. Tears kept silently slipping down her cheeks, everytime she wiped them away they’d return in seconds. The door creaked open and Kate threw her head up quickly, rubbing roughly at her face to hide her tears. Laura leant against the doorframe, a gentle smile on her face. “I just came to see if you needed anything,” she smiled warmly.
Kate shook her head firmly, not trusting her voice to sound grown up if she spoke. Laura’s face fell slightly as she witnessed the uncharacteristically quiet response from Kate who tended to be hyperverbal most of the time. “Katie?” She tested, using the girls preferred nickname for when she’s feeling small. Kate melted slightly at the nickname, her face crumpling up in defeat as tears began to burn in her eyes. “Oh sweet girl,” Laura cooed, crossing the room and engulfing Kate in her arms. Kate hurried her face against Laura’s stomach, sniffling in an attempt to stop her tears.
“M sorry,” she whimpered sadly.
“Why are you sorry?” Laura asked worriedly, worst case scenarios circling in her mind.
“My fault Clint got hurt,” Kate explained through ragged sobs.
“Oh, no, Darling. That’s not your fault.” Laura cooed. She knelt down in front of Kate’s chair so they were eye level. She gently wiped the tears from Kate’s cheeks and placed a soft kiss on each of them. “There’s always a risk going on missions, Clint knows that. He’s just got a little owie but he’ll be better in a few days.” She promised. Kate sniffled, chewing on her fingers for comfort. She understood what Laura was saying but it didn’t make her feel any less icky. “Come on, let’s get you out of these grown up clothes.”
Laura took Kate’s hand and led her into the spare room which at this point essentially just belonged to Kate. She directed her to lay down on the bed and then helped Kate out of her suit and into a pull-up and a pair of oversized purple sweats. “There you go, is that comfier,” Kate nodded happily, far calmer now she was in her little clothes. Laura grabbed Kate’s pacifier and gently replaced her fingers with it. “Why don’t we go put on a movie?” Laura suggested. Kate nodded, grabbing her stuffed puppy dog which looked like Lucky off her bed before following Laura downstairs.
Laura set Kate up the couch with blankets and pillows to keep her comfortable while she watched Scooby-Doo. Laure disappeared into the kitchen for a few moments but returned with a bottle filled with apple juice. Kate rarely ever had a bottle but she felt very small right now and the idea felt comforting. Kate let Laura sit next to her on the couch and gently adjusted her so she was half in her lap, just enough to support Kate’s head whilst she had her bottle. The cool apple juice was soothing on Kate’s throat which had grown rough with tears. “There you go darling, you did so well today,” Laura cooed as Kate slipped off to sleep in her arms.
