#readerxclintbarton

“Well I can’t very well leave you to fend for yourself, now can I? As it stands, I’m already a shitty friend, working together can’t hurt things.”

Bruce grins and grips my shoulder. “I’ll see you Monday, then.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t fight back my smile. “Do I need to pack a bag, or will I be allowed to go home at the end of the day?”

“Not sure yet. Might as well bring a change of clothes and a toothbrush just in case.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you Monday.”

“I can’t believe you actually pulled it off, Banner,” Stark says. “You wrangled a counselor for the team?”

“What,” I say. “Like it was supposed to be hard?”

Bruce laughs and reaches out to place his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve known (Y/N) for just about as long as I can remember. I’m sure she’ll be a good fit.”

“As long as you can remember, huh?” I look past Captain Rogers and find a sandy haired man. He grins when I meet his eyes. “Just how long?”

I bob my head from side to side. “Somewhere between twenty years and most of our lives.”

He whistles. “Pretty long time, then.”

“Mhm.”

Bruce clears his throat. “I’m sure (Y/N) wants to see where she’ll be working, so I’ll just show her to her office.”

Everyone in the boardroom waves and Bruce leads me out of the room. As soon as we’re out in the hall I sigh and bow my head, finally able to let my shoulders relax.

“That was a lot.”

Bruce chuckles. “Trust me, it’ll either get worse or stay exactly the same as time goes on, depending on who you’re talking to.”

“The blond guy who spoke up, that’s Hawkeye, right?”

“Clint Barton, yeah.”

“Will I be seeing much of him?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t really know much about the guy. He seems pretty happy-go-lucky and stable most of the time, though.”

“Huh.” I shrug and hitch my bag a little higher on my shoulder. “You never know with some people.”

“True. I’m sure you’ll deal with him at least once more after this. He’s the curious type.”

“I guess I’ll have to look forward to that, then.”

Bruce hummed in agreement and leads me to the elevator bank and takes me down to what will eventually be my office. He gives me a basic rundown of the facilities and shows me which restroom is closest to my office. I ask for a baseline reading on everyone on the team and Bruce rattles off what he’s noticed about the main five.

“Steve will most likely drop by to make small talk, but it may take some time for him to open up in any way that counts. Tony will joke about therapy, but once he warms up to you it’ll be impossible to get him to leave.”

“Oof, that bad?”

“He’s long-winded.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to enforce appointments with him when he starts to take interest.”

“Probably wise.”

“And Natasha?”

“I doubt you’ll see much of her. She has her ways of working through her issues on her own.”

“Do they involve murder?”

“Don’t know, and I don’t care to.”

“Got it. None of our business. I’ll let her come to me if she needs anything.” I plop down behind my new desk. “What about Thor?”

“Who knows. He shows up when he wants and tends to be a pretty jovial guy.”

“Ah. Is there anyone else outside of the tower I can expect?”

“Wanda, Sam, and Rhodey will be around from time to time. If Steve has his way, Bucky will move in at some point, and Wanda is currently in the process of moving into the tower, so you may see her more after that. I’m not sure how often she’ll drop by. She’s fairly private due to her powers.”

“Energy manipulation, right?”

He nods. “That, and other mind tricks.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“But that just leaves Clint, and we’ve already gone over what you can expect from him.”

“It doesn’t just leave Clint, Bruce.” I fold my hands on the desktop. “I expect to see you in here at least once a week. Ideally twice.”

Bruce scowls. “(Y/N), you know how I feel about that.”

“Yeah, well, I listen to your opinions on that stuff when I’m just your friend. Now I’m your therapist, and you’re going to listen to me because I know what works for you. So I expect you to get your pasty ass in here when you’re scheduled.”

“You’re making appointments for me now?”

“Until I’m sure you’ll come to me on your own, yes.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Send me the schedule. I’ll see you at my appointed time.”

“Wonderful.” I relax my shoulders, letting my professional mask slip. “Thanks for this, Bruce. I mean it.”

“I know you do.” He cracks a smile. “You’re the only person I trust to get to the root of our issues.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll try not to let you down.”

“Believe me, (Y/N), if anyone’s gonna let me down, it’ll be the team.” I laugh and he heads for the door. “I’ll see you later. Good luck with your first day.”

“Thanks, Bruce. I’ll see you later!”

“So, (Y/N),” Tony says, spreading out on the couch across from my chair. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah, what makes you tick? What motivates you to try and heal the fragile minds of the Avengers?”

“I’d say a decent paycheck is a pretty good motivator, Mr. Stark.”

He seems disappointed with my answer. “Is that it?”

“Well, that, and I want to make sure Bruce is doing alright. He’s struggled with therapy in the past, and I want to make sure he’s getting the kind of help that he needs.”

“I see.” He presses his lips together and folds his arms. “You’re not even curious about the rest of the team?”

“Of course I’m curious, but nothing discussed in this tower will be shared with anyone outside. I take my patients privacy very seriously.”

“You sure you don’t just fear for your life?”

“Living in New York, I fear for my life constantly. That doesn’t mean that I’m worried about getting merced if I get a little loose lipped outside of work.” I sigh and lean back in my chair. “That being said, I won’t be sharing your confidential information with anyone you haven’t specifically given authorized access to your records.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. It’s almost like I’m a professional, right?”

He smiles. “I’m really starting to like you, (Y/N).”

“Then I guess I have a lot more of this to look forward to, then, don’t I?”

I laughs and hauls himself up from the couch. “We’ll see.”

I make a note of his response in my open document. “Sounds like a tentative yes to me, Mr. Stark, and I’ll be here so long as you deem my services necessary.”

He nods and exits my office. He leaves the door open.

“How are you liking it here so far, (Y/N)?”

“It’s been quiet, Captain Rogers. It’s a bit like pulling teeth trying to get anyone to make use of their resources.”

“I guess it would be. We’re a relatively private bunch.” He pauses a moment. “And, please, call me Steve.”

“Right, Steve. Is there anything that I can do for you today?” I ask. “It’s entirely alright if you just want to make small talk.”

“Oh, well, uh…” He awkwardly clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “I guess I just wanted to get a lay of the land.”

“I understand.” I glance around my office. “I should probably bring in some art and plants. Make it a little less sterile in here.”

Steve laughs. “That might help.”

I smile. “Maybe an area rug?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you think would be best.”

“I appreciate the creative freedom.” I close my laptop, set it to the side, and settle back in my chair. “Is there something on your mind, Steve?”

“No,” he says quickly. He immediately looks conflicted. “I… well, kind of.”

“Feel free to speak. Nothing you say will leave this office.”

“You hardly know me.”

I shrug. “I know how stressful this environment can be. And, while your team is very good at what they do, they’re also the ones who are causing your stress.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that.” I watch him chew the inside of his cheek. “I guess I’m just concerned that things might not get better, even when Bucky’s moved in.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. I’m worried that it might not be a good fit for him, or that the team won’t accept him, or that he might not even want to be around me.”

“Those are all valid concerns. Have you mentioned any of this to him?”

“God no. I don’t want to stress him out more than I already have with all of this moving business.”

“I might suggest bringing it up. He might be having similar worries himself, and, as helpful as it is to work towards what’s troubling you with me, I won’t be able to settle your nerves.”

“Maybe you’re right…”

“If nothing else, it might open up a new line of communication between the two of you, which couldn’t hurt.”

Steve stays for another hour, just talking. When he leaves, he asks if I want the door open or closed. I don’t give him a definite answer and he leaves it open, just a crack. I laugh and start on his profile.

Someone knocks on my door and I glance up from my paperwork to see Clint standing in the doorway.

“Mr. Barton,” I say. “I was wondering when I might see you.”

He shrugs. “Here I am.”

“After two weeks, I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

“If I was?”

“Then it’s none of my business.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. “I like that answer.”

I rise from my desk and gesture to the couch. He raises his eyebrows, but takes a seat anyway. I sit across from him and watch as he tries to decide just how he should sit. In the end, he leans heavily on his knees. Nothing about him is relaxed.

“I’m starting to think Bruce was wrong about you.”

“What’d the green bean tell you about me?”

“Nothing concrete,” I answer. “He just mentioned that you seem to have a positive outlook on things most of the time.”

He snorts. “Great.”

“Mmm, I see. It’s a facade, then?”

He frowns and presses a finger to his right ear. “Could you say that again?”

“I said, it’s a facade, then?”

“Sometimes.”

I nod. “Interesting.”

He barks out a laugh. “Yeah, interesting.”

I watch him look around the room, examining the art on the walls and the stacks of paper on my desk. When he turns his head to the left, I notice his purple earpiece and something suddenly clicks. He tilts his head to the side when he sees me staring.

“What?”

“Would it be easier if we signed?” I ask, signing along as I speak.

He looks surprised. “You sign?”

I laugh. “Yes. My little brother is on the Autism spectrum. When he was a kid, he was almost entirely nonverbal. Mom taught him sign, and the rest of the family learned along with him.”

“That must’ve been really nice for him.”

“It was nice to be able to communicate with him when he couldn’t vocalize what he wanted to say. He eventually started speaking when he was about seven, though.”

“And you still held onto the signing skills?”

“Of course! It’s not like he just, bam, started talking. It was a long process, and he still has nonverbal days sometimes.” Clint starts to actually smile and it warms my heart. “It’s come in handy in my particular line of work too. Deaf and hard of hearing folks need counsellors and therapists too.”

“Which brings the topic of conversation back to me.” He shakes his head and leans back against the couch and signs, “You’re a tricky one, (Y/N).”

“I’m not tricky!”

“Then what?”

“I’m accommodating.” I speak again, but continue to sign along. “You don’t have to tell me everything, or anything, really. But I’m here to help, if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Clint. Any time.”

“Seems like you and Clint are getting close,” Bruce says.

“I don’t know what you mean, man.”

“He’s in here all the time, (Y/N). There’s no way Barton needs therapy five times a week.”

“It’s not always about therapy, Bruce. I strive to make my office a safe space where everyone knows that they can speak freely. He knows that he can come here and chill out without worrying about the rest of the team.”

“Barton doesn’t really worry about anything, though.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Bruce stares at me, eyes narrowed, and snaps his fingers. "You like him."

I roll my eyes. "I do not like him, Bruce. And you're not even here to talk about Clint, you're here to work on yourself and managing your stress levels."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm sure there's something we could talk about aside from me."

I sigh and hold my head in my hands. "I've been here for two months. I haven't been around long enough to form anything more than tentative relationships with the rest of the team. I'm more concerned about whether or not they can open up to me than I am with my love life."

“Right,” Bruce clears his throat.

“Thank you.” He looks thoroughly ashamed and I have to laugh. “I appreciate the interest, but it’s just not something that you need to worry about.”

“No, I understand.” He smiles and shrugs. “I guess I just miss having that easy rapport with you.”

“I mean, we still have that, Bruce. It’s just not something that I want to talk about in the workplace. It’s one thing to shoot the shit over lunch on a Saturday, it’s another to discuss my patients with another patient, all of whom are my coworkers.”

“I didn’t think about it like that.”

I smile. “It’s fine. Did you want to pick up where we left off on Tuesday?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“(Y/N)?”

I’m startled by the woman in the doorway. “Ms. Romanoff?”

She shakes her head and steps into my office. “As long as you’re not a government official, it’s just Natasha.”

“Ah, right.” I sit a little straighter in my chair. “What can I do for you, Natasha?”

“Clint’s said you’ve helped him a lot.”

“I don’t know about that. We just talk. He does all the helping.”

“I figured you’d say that.” She moves quickly across the room and takes a seat on the couch. “I’d like to talk to you, if you have the time.”

“Oh.” I scramble up from my desk to sit across from her. “What about?”

“I need help working through a recent case.”

“Are you sure I’m qualified for that?”

“Well, you said Clint does all the helping. Maybe what I need is a sounding board.”

“Fair enough. Where are you caught up?”

Natasha rattles off the details of a recent mission. I do my best to follow her, but she loses me when she starts explaining the intricacies of a piece of Hydra technology they discovered. Eventually, she perks up, almost looking like she wants to jump up from her seat and run from the room.

“I think I’ve got it.”

“That’s great!”

She calmly gets to her feet and walks to the door. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

I shake my head. “It was my pleasure.”

“Even so, you helped me.” She flashes me an unexpected smile. “I appreciate that.”

“It’s not a problem, Natasha. I hope that we can speak again at some point.”

She nods and heads for the door. “I’ll see you around.”

In the hall I hear, “Oh, hey, Nat.” and Clint pokes his head in soon after.

I smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He leans in the doorway and folds his arms. “What’d Nat dump on you?”

“Doctor patient confidentiality, Barton,” I say. “I can’t tell you.”

His arms fall to his side and he dramatically slumps into the room. “I thought you trusted me!”

I laugh. “I do trust you, Clint. But it’s not my information to give.” He drapes himself across the couch and grins at the sight of me fighting back my smile. “If it were, Bruce would have full access to what we talk about in our sessions.”

“That’s private information, (Y/N)!” He laughs. “I see your point.”

“Good.”

“Did you want to grab lunch later? That weird little cafe down the street started serving some kind of coffee burger.”

“Ugh, and you want to eat that?”

“(Y/N), it’s a coffee burger.”

“With all the heinous shit you put in your body, it’s a wonder you’re still alive.”

“If you think I’m bad, you should meet my dog.”

“Is that an offer?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Guess you’ll have to stick around long enough to find out.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s been four months, Clint. If I haven’t run for the hills yet, I’m pretty sure it’s not gonna happen for a while yet.”

Something twinkles in his eyes. “That’s good to hear. I was worried I might scare you off.”

“If anyone were to scare me off, it’d be Tony.” I shake my head. “That man is a handful.”

“What happened to patient confidentiality?”

“Since when is Tony being a handful a secret?” He laughs and I relax in my seat. “But, yeah, I’ll get lunch with you.”

“Really?”

“Someone has to make sure you don’t keel over from physically eating coffee.”

“Oh come on! It’s not like they solidified the coffee and stuck it on a bun!”

“How do you know they didn’t? Maybe they turned the coffee into jello, passed it through a meat grinder, and threw it on a griddle.”

His face scrunches up in disgust. “Ugh, that’d just be burnt coffee.”

“I’ve watched you drink an entire pot of burnt coffee.”

“Desperate times, (Y/N). They call for desperate measures.”

I sigh and shake my head. ”I guess it’s fine, so long as you’re not addicted to caffeine pills.”

“Those don’t do anything for me.”

“That’s terrifying.”

He laughs, hauls himself up from the couch, and offers me a hand. “Shall we?”

“Shall we what?”

“Head out for lunch.”

“Now? I thought you said later.”

“It’s been like five minutes. It’s later now.”

I laugh. “I can’t just go now. I have an appointment with Steve in twenty minutes. We can leave after that.”

He pouts. “Fine.”

“Don’t give me that look, Clint!”

He sighs and trudges towards the door. “I guess I’ll just have to make a reservation for one thirty.”

“That’d be great.”

He flashes a brilliant smile before disappearing out into the hall. I shake my head and move back to my desk.

“That man is gonna get me in trouble.”

“I thought you said you weren’t involved with Clint?”

“I’m not, Bruce.”

“Then what’s this?” He places his phone on my keyboard.

I pick up the phone and find an article titled “Hawkeye’s New Flame, or Just a Fling?” pulled up. A picture of Clint and I at lunch the other day sits just below a paragraph speculating who I could be. I snort and hand him his phone.

“Clint and I went to lunch. That’s all.” I sit back and fold my arms. “What’s the problem, Bruce?”

“I don’t want you getting dragged into some kind of media storm because you work with us.”

“It’s one article!”

“There’s at least four more like it that I’ve seen.”

“I’m not worried about it, Bruce. Clint just went out for lunch and some pap caught us talking. That’s it. There’s nothing more to it, but I can’t stop people from talking.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

“No one should have to deal with anyone plastering their personal life all over the internet, but you know what? I’d rather get caught out in public with Clint than Tony.” I laugh. “Can you imagine the shitstorm that’d kick up if that happened?”

Bruce tries not to laugh. “I guess you’re right.”

“It was bound to get out that the Avengers brought in a counsellor at some point. It’s better that it’s like this instead of some media outlet picking up a rumor and deciding that you’re all unstable.”

“Well…”

“I’m not saying you’re the most sane bunch, but that’s no one’s business but yours. Regardless, don’t worry about this. It’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” He pockets his phone. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Of course I would, Bruce. If something comes up, I’ll let you know.”

I sit on the floor of the gym and lift the collar of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face.

Clint plops down on the floor beside me and tips his head to the side.

“Definitely didn’t expect to find you in here,” he says.

“What, I can’t work out?” I groan and lay back. “Ugh.”

“You okay?”

“No. I knew I should’ve just stuck to the treadmill.”

“What’d you do to yourself?”

“Weights.”

He laughs. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know. Is wanting to be able to lift a very large dog a good reason?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a bad reason.” He lays beside me and props himself up on his elbow. “I could help you, if you want.”

“I don’t know how I feel about being all sweaty gross around you.”

He pokes my stomach and I laugh and shift away. “I don’t know, (Y/N), sweaty’s the new sexy.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” I laugh and scrunch my nose. “Also kind of gross.”

“Sweet and kind of gross, I think you’ve pretty much summed me up perfectly.” I laugh so hard that I snort and he grins. “So, do you want help working out?”

I press my fist to my mouth to quiet my giggling. “If you’re willing to, I really would appreciate it.”

“Then it’s a done deal.” I thank him and his smile softens. “Sorry about those articles last week, by the way.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“I should’ve warned you, at least. I’m used to it, but you didn’t sign up for pap shots and gossip columns when you took this job.”

I scowl. “Honestly, Clint. If you’re not gonna read my lips, read my hands. It’s totally fine. I don’t care. I had a nice time at lunch. A few dumb articles won’t change that.”

“You mean that?”

“Well, yeah. I like spending time with you outside of all of this,” I say, gesturing to the tower in general. “With, y’know, no expectations of maintaining all of the professional bullshit.”

“Pretty sure you’re the most professional one here.”

“Thanks, I’m glad that comes across in the day to day, but do you understand what I’m saying? Like I genuinely do not care about what a shitty news outlet says. At the end of the day, the only opinions that matter are ours.” I sigh and settle on the floor. “Sorry.”

“Sounds like we’re not the only ones who need therapy.”

I hum. “Maybe I do.”

“No shame in it.”

I smile at him. “I know.” I sit up and get to my feet. “It’s getting late, I should head out.”

“You’re in tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be around till noon. I’ve got a wedding later in the day.”

“Not yours, right?”

I laugh. “No, definitely not mine.”

“Cool,” He smiles up at me. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Since when do we have staff meetings?” Clint asks.

“Since we brought on a counselor,” Tony says.

I frown. “I’ve been here six months and I’ve never been to any kind of meeting.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you brought that up and just keep moving with the meeting.”

I snort and shoot Clint a look. He laughs and signs for me to stop. I wave him off and turn my attention back to the head of the table.

Tony rambles on for about half an hour before Steve cuts in and the two of them start going back and forth. They bicker for twenty minutes before Thor swans in, greeting everyone with his bright, booming voice. I was stuck in my office the last time he was on Earth, so our paths never had a chance to cross. Steve takes a moment to introduce the two of us and Thor vigorously shakes my hand, unintentionally jostling me around the whole time. He takes his seat on the other side of Bruce and the conversation picks up again.

I catch Clint’s eye twitching in my peripheral when Thor speaks a little too loudly. I gesture to get his attention and he raises his eyebrows when he meets my eyes.

“You good?” I sign.

He nods. “Can’t pay attention to save my life in these meetings.”

“I’ve never known anyone to compliment your attention span.”

He mouths, “Oh, ha ha,” and I laugh.

“You’re mean, (Y/N).”

“And here I thought you liked me.”

“Never said I didn’t.” He grins. “The way things are going, I’d say you’re probably just my type.”

I shake my head and hide my smile behind my hand. “Stop.”

“Aw, you're cute when you're embarrassed." I flip him off and he laughs. “That's a compliment!"

I snort. “Pay attention, Clint.”

We manage to make it through another hour and, by that time, someone has turned off the lights and started giving a presentation. I fold my arms on the table and rest my chin on top and beg myself to stay awake through this meeting. I’m sure it’ll only be a little while longer.

Clint’s hand creeps into my line of sight and he taps the table to get my attention. I shoot him a quizzical look and he lifts his eyebrows.

“You still with us?” he signs.

“No.”

“It’s going longer than I thought it would.”

“I’m honestly about to fall asleep.”

“Aw, (Y/N), no.”

“This is how I go out. Avenge me, Clint.”

“No!”

“It’s your job. You have to.”

“But who will help me through the trauma?”

I cover my mouth to muffle my laughter. “I’d be dead, that’s none of my concern.”

He shakes his head. “And you call yourself my friend.”

Natasha clears her throat, startling me away from the conversation. I try to pay attention to the presentation, but I just can't wrap my head around what they're talking about and Clint easily distracts me again.

"Quick question."

Surprised, I sign, "Shoot."

"Would you want to go out with me?"

My brain stops working for a second. "Wait, what?"

"I said, will you go out with me?"

My heart hammers in my chest. "Like as friends, or on a date?"

He sighs. "We've been hanging out as friends for months now. I'm asking you on a date, stupid."

My face heats and I sit back in my seat. “Oh.”

He laughs. “Did I break you?”

“A little.” I frown.

“Just say yes!”

Startled, I glance up the table, only to find Natasha glaring at Clint and I. Everyone is looking at us and I suddenly want to disappear.

“What’s the problem?” Steve asks.

“I’m sick of watching the two of them flirt with each other,” Natasha says. “You’ve been mooning over each other for months. Just say yes and be done with it.”

“Nat, they haven’t said a single thing since the beginning of the meeting.”

“They’ve been signing at each other the entire meeting.” She looks directly at me and signs, “I see everything.”

“Sorry.”

“Just say yes.” She looks very pointedly between Clint and I. “You’d be good together.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like him!” Bruce says.

“That was months ago, Bruce. Things change.”

“Don’t be hard on her,” Natasha says. “Clint’s an acquired taste.”

“I’m just gonna, um…” I gesture to the door. “I’m just gonna go.”

I see Tony and Steve nod and I shove my chair back from the table and make my escape. The door shuts behind me, and I’m free. I sigh, relieved to be free of the weight of everyone’s eyes on me, only for the embarrassment of having my crush exposed to my coworkers to settle deep in my stomach.

I press my fingertips to my temples and walk down the hallway. “I knew he was gonna get me in trouble.”

I make the decision to just go back to my office. Maybe I can at least get some work done or, at the very least calm down. I turn as the elevator doors close and catch a glimpse of the conference door opening at the end of the hall. I shift slightly so that it’s not in my line of sight.

The elevator ride feels like it’s too long and I immediately flop down on my couch as soon as I’m in my office. I can't get comfortable and shift around until I'm upside down with my legs over the back of the conch, staring at the ceiling. I press the heels of my hands over my eyes and groan out of frustration.

“I left without even answering him,” I mutter.

The door suddenly opens and I freeze, pulling my hands away from my face, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.

"(Y/N)?"

"Clint?" I try to sit up and smack my head on the edge of the coffee table. "Shit."

"Are you okay?" he asks.

I rub my forehead and sit up a little more carefully. "I'll live."

He takes a seat on the coffee table and watches intently as I sit upright on the couch and face him. He reaches out and gently touches my forehead, only to jerk his hand back when I wince.

"Sorry."

"Don't, it's fine."

"Okay." He sighs softly and shuffles awkwardly on the table. He stills when I touch his knee and takes my hand in his. "I'm sorry about the meeting. I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that."

"Honestly, Clint, you don't need to apologize," I murmur. "I got flustered and then embarrassed when everyone else got involved."

"I know. I probably like pushing your buttons a little too much."

"That's not it."

"But I do push your buttons."

"Yeah, but only 'cause I let you." He smiles and I squeeze his hand. "But I'm a deeply private person. To have Natasha butt in like that, no matter the good she meant by it, really set me on edge."

"I had no idea."

"I don't feel like I have to keep everything close to my chest when I’m with you. You tease me, but it’s never from a place of malice and you know me well enough that you never take it too far.”

“I mean, you give as good as you get.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he runs his thumb over my knuckles. “But still. I should’ve just asked in private, but you know me.”

“Yeah. You’re sweet, but kind of stupid sometimes. More than a little impulsive. And way too fond of coffee.”

“Aw, I thought that was endearing!” He smiles when I laugh. “The invitation still stands, but you don’t have to say yes.”

“What’re you talking about?” He meets my eyes and I shake my head. “I’m not about to turn you down. You haven’t introduced me to your dog yet.”

“Oh, I get it, you only want me for Lucky.”

“Mhm.”

He shakes his head and kneels on the floor in front of me. “Shoulda known.”

“I know, I’m pure evil.” He grins and takes my face in his hands. “I should be fired, right?”

“Without a doubt.”

I hum softly and lean forward to bump my nose against his. After a moment’s hesitation, Clint closes the distance between us and gently kisses me. I place one hand on his forearm and tilt my head to the side to kiss him back. He smiles against my lips and pulls away, his eyes flitting over my face.

“So… about that dog.”

I have no idea what would happen to them after that, but I’d like to think they’re having a great time, petting dogs and continuing to mess with each other, all whilst falling in love.

I’d love to know what you guys thought of this little one shot. Did you love it, did you hate it? Did you breathe out through your nose a little bc you kind of laughed but also didn’t? Be sure to like, reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask and tell me all about it!

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They all seem to finally get the message and rush past me and out the door. Clint slowly follows after them, Lucky trailing behind him. Before he walks out the door he stops in front of me.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I didn’t want any of this to happen, I promise.”

“I know, don’t apologize. It’s okay.” I can feel tears starting to well up, and I rub at my eyes angrily with the heel of my hand.

“Do you still want to talk about what happened at work earlier?” He asks.

“Yeah,” I answer, my voice shaking slightly.

“Do you wanna do that after you’ve gotten some sleep?” I nod wordlessly in response. “How does noon sound?”

“Good.” I nod, trying to calm myself as best as I possibly can.

“Okay, I’ll see you then.” He says, gently pulling me into a hug. He presses a soft kiss to my forehead before beckoning for Lucky to follow him.

Before he closes the door, he turns back and flashes me a sad smile. I nod to him and he leaves. As soon as he’s gone my body starts to shake and the tears start to fall. I slide my back down the door until I’m sitting in the floor, my body wracked with sons. I don’t exactly know why I’m crying. I just know that I can’t bottle it up forever, so I don’t bother holding back. It’s a good five minutes before I can peel myself off the floor and head to my room. I manage to change into a pair of boxers and an oversized t-shirt before collapsing in bed and almost instantaneously falling asleep.

It seems like it’s only been a matter of minutes when there’s a banging on my door and a dog barking along. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s Clint and that he’s brought Lucky back with him.

“You know how to get in!” I call from my room, trying to get dressed before he comes in.

“I do!” Clint calls back. “But I brought food and my hands are full.”

“Ooh, and I was so close to staying in bed all day.” I say as I approach the door. I hear a small laugh from the other side of the door. When I open the door I find Clint holding a pizza and a bag of what looks like Chinese take-out. “Pizza and take-out?”

“Pizza’s for the dog, take-out’s for us.” he explains. “We might be lucky and get a couple slices, but this mutt is greedy.”

“Are you greedy, Lucky?” I ask, crouching down and offering him my hand. He brushes past Clint and pushes his head into my hand, his tail wagging and shaking his backside. “Mmm, I don’t think so. Is Clint wrong about you?” At this he barks happily and I look up at Clint and chuckle. “He says you’re wrong.”

“Well he would definitely say that.” Clint says, squinting at the happy dog.

“Well, come in.” I step aside to let clint into the apartment. He smiles and nods to me before stepping past me.

“Nice place place you’ve got here.” He says, looking around before turning back to me and grinning lopsidedly.

“Thanks, I really went for the “nearly homeless” minimalist look.”

“So, you want some take-out or what?” He asks, lifting the bag as he plops down onto my couch.

“Of course.” I drop down next to him, tucking my feet underneath me after getting comfortable. “I’m always down for chow mein.”

“Good, cause I’ve got two large boxes and pot stickers.” He sets the bag down on the couch before dropping the pizza box on the floor and opening it.

“You really should feed him better.” I comment, taking a box of the greasy noodles from the bag, opening it, and stabbing a fork into the food.

“Every time I take him to the vet they say he’s fine.” Clint says, taking a massive bite of his own noodles. “I swear I feed him kibble, but he really just loves pizza and shit like that.”

“Huh.” I intone, shoveling a rather unladylike amount of food into my mouth. Clint watches me with an amused smile on his face. “Wha’?”

“You’re just really cute.” He says. I feel a heat rise in my face and I guess I’m blushing.

“Even with a pounf of chinefe food in my fafe?“ I ask around the food in my mouth, my hand covering my lips to keep from spraying him with any food particles.

“Especially with a pound of Chinese food in your face.” He answers, his smile growing, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“You’re cheesy.” I mumble, rolling my eyes.

“Really?” He says. “Are you sure it’s not the pizza?”

“I am very sure.” I nod, trying to chew and swallow the food before continuing. “You don’t have to butter me up. I’m already in love with you.”

“So I didn’t go completely insane. You actually love me?” He says, stabbing his fork into his food.

“Well if we examine the case, the evidence is pretty incriminating.” I say simply. “If anything, I’m the one who’s surprised. I never would have thought that you liked me too.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Internalized self loathing?” I shrug. “Probably something along those lines.”

“I had no idea.” He says quietly, his eyes widening slightly.

“Don’t worry about it, Clint.”

“I’m still going to worry about you in general though. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” I breathe. He smiles at me in response.

He slowly leans forward, gently cupping my cheek with his free hand, and kisses me softly. I take my time in kissing him back, reaching out to place my food on the coffee table to free up my hands. When my hands are empty, Clint scoops me up and places me in his lap, breaking away to look me in the eyes and push some hair out of my face. We study each other’s faces for a moment before he moves forward and captures my lips with his again. One of his arms snakes around my waist, pulling me closer to his chest, the other tangles into the hair at the base of my skull. My hands gently card through his short, blond locks before coming to rest on either side of his jaw. Clint breaks away to pepper my face with kisses, placing soft pecks all over my cheeks and forehead.

“You taste like msg.” He grins at me.

“And you smell like dog.” I raise my eyebrows at him, a smile playing at my lips.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, his tone suddenly very serious.

“For what?”

“For the team following me, for breaking into your apartment the other day, for showing up at the the-” I cover his mouth with my hand to stop him.

“Nope, stop.” He raises his eyebrows at me, his eyes asking why?. “The team following me was their fault. Not yours. I know that.” His brow furrows and I remove my hand. “As for tonight and the night before this, I know that you were concerned about me. I know that you still are. I’m not upset about that.”

“You’re not?” He sounds surprised.

“No, I’m not.” I shake my head. “I was out of line for yelling at you, I know that. I was frustrated and I lashed out at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“They did…” He mumbles.

“Okay, sure, but you didn’t.” I counter. “You were only trying to help and I snapped at you. For that, I am extremely sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He’s silent for a minute before continuing. “I don’t want you to come back to the tower.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I don’t want you to go back.” He repeats. “At least until you’re ready to.”

“Really?” I ask, searching his eyes.

“Yes, really.” He answers. “After what happened earlier this morning, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go back just yet. I was talking to them after I saw you that first night and they were all really concerned about getting you back, but it was for themselves. I want you to come back, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want you to come back for the wrong reasons. I want to have a relationship with you, and as much as I want to be selfish, I can’t risk ruining what we could possibly have.”

“That was the best thing you could have ever said to me right now, you know that, right?”

“Bringing you fast food, making out on your couch and saying all the right things? I am on a roll today.” He says, a sly grin stretches across his lips as he slips his free arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. We sit in comfortable silence for a short while before I speak up again.

“I have an idea.”

“Do tell.”

“I think we should spend more time together outside of the cinema and you breaking into my apartment.”

“I have to admit, I like that idea a lot.”

“I have a day off next week too.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows, intrigued.

“Yeah.” I nod. “Maybe we could hang out at the tower.”

“Wait,” He says, suddenly sitting much straighter. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, why not?” I shrug. “It’ll get the team off my back and it’s not like I don’t want to go back. You’re there, and they’re my family.”

“We don’t deserve you, you know that right?”

“I don’t know if that’s completely true. I think I just want to look for a compromise right now, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” His smile softens. “I won’t tell them you’re coming.”

“They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

---------

Part 4

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“I never realized...”

“Neither did I, Cap, but it hit her hard. Harder than any of us could have ever known.” Clint rises from his seat, coffee in hand. “If we want her to come back, we have to be patient. We can’t force her into anything.”

Bruce, Natasha and Tony all wander into the room in a group. They look between Steve and Clint, somewhat confused. Natasha is the first to realize the development.

“You found her, didn’t you.” She says, her eyes lighting up.

“Nat...” Clint says softly.

“No, Clint, you found her. You found (Y/N), didn’t you?” She repeats.

“Wait,  did you?” Bruce asks. Clint doesn't answer and Tony becomes frustrated.

“Spit it out, Barton. Do you, or don't you know where she is?” Tony snaps.

“I do,” He answers. All of their shoulders seem to rise, like a weight’s been lifted. Clint doesn't want to continue, to give back that weight, but he has to. He looks to Steve, who just shrugs in defeat, before opening his mouth again. “But we're not going to go get her.”

“Why not?” Bruce asks, cautiously.

“She doesn’t want to come back.” Clint answers. “Not yet, at least.”

“Fine.” Tony says, running a hand over his weary face. “How do you wanna go about this?”

“I'm going to do this by myself.” Clint looks away from the group, taking a swig of his coffee, knowing the team wouldn't like the idea. He was right as everyone around gasped quietly and nearly collectively. “What?”

“Are you sure you're up for that, Barton?” Tony questions, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I am.” He says, nodding in response. “I mean, I… I-”

“We haven't got all day, Clint, just say it already.” Natasha says, slight irritation slipping into her voice.

“I love her, okay?” He says, setting his mug down on the table. “I love, (Y/N), and there's no way I'm going to chase her away. I know you guys want her back, but I can't lose her again.”

His words are met with wide eyes from Steve, Tony and Bruce but Natasha just nods. She’d known how Clint felt about (Y/N) before even he did, but it wasn’t until now mthat he had admitted it to anyone. She would never admit it, but she’s proud of him.

-Readers POV-

Tonight was was a surprisingly slow one for a movie theater on a Friday. Usually there's still hoards of people here at midnight, but not tonight for some reason. Regardless, I just keep on with my tasks for the night.

I finish up with the last person at the concessions stand and head empty the old popcorn from the machines, sweep up what’s fallen on the floor and mop up the various liquids from the counters and floor. I drag the boxes of candy back into the storeroom before grabbing a broom and rolling trash can and heading for the empty theaters. The sheer amount of garbage people leave behind after they’ve been asked for years by cinema’s everywhere to clean up after themselves is absolutely astounding. Within three minutes of being in theater thirteen I’ve gathered up a large tub of popcorn that’s still 75% full, four large soda’s that still probably have a quarter of their contents left in them and about twenty five unfinished boxes of candy, and that’s even before I sweep up. Do these people ever think about the fact that we employees have to clean up after them?

I grumble to myself as I clean the next six theaters, switch out my full trash can for an empty one and then move on to tidy up the next five. I have to wait for the last movie to let out before I can clean up the theater, so I just stand around outside, absentmindedly sweeping up the stray bits of candy and popcorn that have fallen from people’s clothing as they exit the theater.

As people trickle out, I weave my way through the crowd and into the viewing area and sigh loudly. The place looks like everyone collectively decided to empty their popcorn buckets onto the floor. Looking back at the teenagers who just left the ones who were smirking at me on my way in, I know that’s exactly what happened.

“Those little shits never have any respect for staff in places like this...” I growl angrily, beginning to sweep up the crumbling, greasy mess that is the massive piles of popcorn in the first third and seventh row. “It’s almost like they plan these stunts.”

“You want some help with that?” A familiar voice calls from the corridor leading to the entryway of the theater.

“What?” I whisper. No sooner had the word left my mouth when a dog comes trotting over to me, one eye gone and his tongue lolling out of his mouth. He looks up at me expectantly and I almost immediately recognize him. “Lucky?” I stoop down to scratch behind his ear. “What’re you doin’ here, buddy?”

“He came with me.” The owner of the voice that had previously spoken steps out from the shadows cast by the hallway. It’s Clint. I should have expected this much.

“I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.” I say, my voice even. I pat Lucky on the head a few times before rising and continuing my sweeping.

“When did you expect me to be back?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well, I was hoping for never, but I guess I was overshooting.” I answer, not looking up at him. For a short while, neither of us speaks so I take the initiative to start the conversation again. “Why are you here, Clint?”

“What do you mean?” He asks, leaning on the corner of the wall.

“I mean why are you at my workplace? The movies are over.” I say, gesturing to the mess around me. “You could have just waited for me at my apartment. You already know how to get in.”

“Is a man not allowed to visit his friend at work?” He inquires, sarcastically clutching at his heart.

“You know how late it is, and I know that you know that you’re not just any man.” I retort.

“Oh? Then what sort of man am I?”

“You’re an Avenger, Clint.” I say, slamming my broom into the garbage can angrily. “You have to think about the good of the many, and not just what’s good for you. You have responsibilities, and you visiting me at this ungodly hour is not helping you uphold said responsibilities.” I stalk up to him and jab him in the chest with my finger. “You should be more concerned with the people out there than the one person in here. The people out there,” I say, gesturing towards the streets, the volume of my voice rising. “They’re the people who matter. They can’t take care of themselves. If you would focus on them and not on me it’ll be a hell of a lot easier for you guys to move on. Heaven knows it’ll be easier for me.”

“I don’t want to move on, (Y/N)!” Clint cries. “I don’t want to forget you, and don’t want to lose you again!” He places his hands on either side of my face, his eyes boring into mine. “Dammit, (Y/N), I love you. I love you. I can’t give up. Not when you’re right here, and I know you left because of me.”

“Y-you… you what?!” I cry, backing away from him slightly, incapable of believing the words that just came out of his mouth.

“I love you, (Y/F/N)(Y/L/N).” He repeats.

“I heard that,” I pull his hands from my face and back away even further. “What I don’t understand is why you said it.”

“Because I couldn’t stand you not knowing anymore,” He doesn’t move closer to me, sensing that I’m uncomfortable. “And you were right. Last time we talked you said that I didn’t realize what I had until it was gone, and you were right. I took you for granted.”

“Clint I-”

“I don’t care if you don’t feel the same.” He says, cutting me off. He runs a hand through his hair, not meeting my eyes. “I just couldn’t keep from telling you any longer. I just need you to know why I want you to come back. I don’t even care if you do come back to the tower because at this point I just need to know that I won’t lo-”

I cut him off, grabbing the collars of his shirt and jacket and pull him towards me, pressing my lips against his. He freezes up momentarily before one of his hands comes to rest on my waist and the other tangles into the hair at the base of my skull. He kisses me back gently, his lips moulding softly against mine. When I pull away he uses the hand he’s got at the back of my neck to gently pull my face back to his to rest his forehead against mine before letting out a shaky breath.

“You talk too much, Barton.” I say quietly, smoothing down his collars. “I mean, really, too much.”

“I-I...” He stutters, pulling back from me slightly to look me in the eyes. “What was that?”

“I love you too, dumbass.”

“Wait… what?”

“I feel the same way, Clint.” I roll my eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

“How long?” he asks.

“About ten months if I’m remembering the specific time I realized that I loved you.” I answer.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because things always seemed to come up.” I smooth over my hair before continuing. “We’d have to go on a mission, you were off training new recruits, I had stacks upon stacks of paperwork. We were hardly ever in the same room at the same time, and when we were it wasn’t alone. Any other time I just couldn't get up the courage.”

“I had no idea.” He breathes.

“That was kind of the point.” I pull away to go back to my work. “Can we talk about this later? I still have a job to finish up here.”

“Sure, yeah.” He nods, whistling to get Lucky to come back to him. “When… when do you wanna do that?”

“Meet me at my apartment in an hour?”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” He nods, a bright smile gradually appearing on his face. I nod in return and he waves Lucky over to him and turns to leave. The dog pauses at my side and I scratch him behind the ears before nudging him towards Clint. He only whines in response. “Come on, dog, you'll see her in an hour.” At this he immediately perks up and trots off after Clint.

“That dog.” I whisper to myself before getting right back to work.

I quickly busy myself with sweeping up the popcorn and other debris. When I’m done I gather up the bags of garbage and my things and leave the theater. As soon as I’m out the door I lock up, chuck the trash into the dumpster in the alleyway and head off in the direction of my apartment.

It’s not long till I’m ascending the stairs and unlocking the door. I had expected to see Clint lounging on the couch with Lucky, but I’m met with a completely different sight. Clint is standing just in front of the couch, every part of him is tensed and his eyes are filled with anger. Between Clint and I is a group of people who I hadn’t planned on seeing for a while longer.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” I growl.

-----------------

part 3

Thanks so much for reading! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

A/N: So, do y’all want part 3? It’s kind of already in the works, so if you guys want it, then I’ll get right on it!

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