Hi, I'm Victoria! My first love is BBC's Sherlock, but I also have a fondness for 1000 year old, two-heart aliens, Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings, the Hobbit, and art- fan or otherwise. Thanks for checking me out/following!
Natasha loves the team like family.
Having been raised in a world where love was a disadvantage and could get you killed, she now revelled in the emotion, made it her purpose to love wholly and unabashedly, despite the difficulty.
Steve is the brother she never had, someone she can bicker with and know that they will always be on her side when it counts. Vanya is her first, the man whom she came so close to loving it nearly destroyed her. Fury is the father figure she had always searched for. Bruce, Thor, Tony, are the cousins who you find a bit zany but always have a good time with. Sam, Maria and Coulson are the friends that you find yourself watching Hugh Grant movies and drinking red wine with.
All those types of love, so perfect in their own unique way.
But none of them come anything close to how she feels about Clint Francis Barton.
And a love like that, all consuming and nuclear, is truly dangerous. It’s self-contained and pressurised, ready to go supernova at any moment. It is the only love that she feels the need to disguise, for both her safety and Clint’s. He understands, enjoying their game. Sneaking from room to room, hiding in cubbyholes, swapping kisses like notes in a classroom; it’s all fun for him.
But, with all playground games, someone forgets the rules.
Clint was in his duvet nest, snuggled warm and stretching like a cat filled with cream. He’d asked her to get him some coffee and, after elbowing him in the ribs and asking him what his last slave died of, Natasha conceded. She pulled on the first item of clothing she could find - a baggy tee from off the floor - and padded to the kitchen. It was six in the morning on a Sunday, they’d most likely all be sleeping.
Except they weren’t.
Natasha stops dead in the doorway as the eyes of every single team member turn to her.
"Urr…" she says intelligently and Tony gestures to her chest.
She frowns and looks down before internally cussing herself out; the t-shirt is purple with a great fucking target in the middle. Clint’s logo.
"So… how long has this been going on?" Steve enquires.
"You going to give him the ‘break her heart, break your face’ speech?" she asks frostily.
"I’ll leave that to Bucky," he retorts, gesturing to the supersoldier who clenches his metal hand into a fist and waves it in a menacing gesture. "Now, answer the question."
"Is it any of your business?"
"We just want to make sure you’re okay," Bruce says soothingly and it’s hard to be mad at Banner.
"Besides, we’re all friends, right?" Sam smiles.
"He’s not," Nat says, pointing at Tony who pretends to look wounded. His outrage is short lived, however, when Clint enters with nothing but a sheet wrapped round his waist.
"Hey babe, figured I’d be all romantic and make you brea-" He stops and looks at the various faces. "Aaaw, Avengers."
"Congratulations on your copulation!" Thor booms. "May Freyja bless you both with love and fertility!"
Clint all but chokes on his spit as Natasha considers all the various ways she can jump out the window without injuring herself.
Yes, she loves the team like a family. But fuck, can family be a pain in the ass.
Bwahahaha, I love this prompt! Hope you do too :) xox