200 Multifandom One Shots

Stuck - Avengers - Clint x Reader

"Why did it have to be you? I mean, out of everyone, why did it have to be you? Steve would have been a delight. Bucky would have been wonderful. Sam would have been hilarious. But nooooooooo. I had to get stuck with you." (Y/n) groaned, as she pulled the old, moth eaten blankets around herself. Trying her best to warm up, using the small fire that Clint had been able to rustle up.

"Look. You're not the only one that's not happy about this situation. I would rather be stuck with an irate Hulk than you. But we both lucked out now, didn't we?" Clint groaned in return. The archer dropping down onto the floor, on the opposite side of the fire. Doing his best to ignore her.

"Well, if it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have got stuck here in the first place. Mister I never miss. Mister I am such a good archer. Mister I'm so god damn perfect, and everyone loves me, Barton. (Y/n) hissed in reply, as she remembered that if there was one thing that she hated, it was being cold. And being cold with Clint Barton, just made it all ten times worse.

The mission was supposed to be simple. Take out a high ranking Hydra doctor. Steve insisting that (Y/n) and Clint were the best ones for the job. And that spending some time together, might just thaw out their frosty relationship.

To begin with, it had gone well. The trip to the Canadian Rockies had proceeded without a hitch. Yet, when it had come down to it, Clint had missed the target. (Y/n) only admitting to herself that it wasn't altogether his fault. And that circumstances beyond either of their control, had meant that the archer hadn't been able to live up to his own hype. The pair finding that they had had to change their plans quickly and make a run for it through a pass that the team had not reconnoitred. Unfortunately having to take refuge in a wooden cabin high up in the mountains. A cabin that was now snowed in, with all lines of communication between the waring duo and the others, seeming to have been cut off.

"Don't you ever stop complaining? I mean, seriously. And you nag too. Sometimes I would swear that we were married............"

"Oh please. I wouldn't marry you even if you were the last man on the planet. And I do not complain or nag. Plus, being married to me would be like a dream.........."

"Oh, yeah, it would be a dream alright. I believe that those dreams are called nightmares." Clint scoffed. Interrupting the interruption. The archer smiling smugly, as (Y/n) growled under her breath.

"Has anyone ever told you, that you are a pompous, arrogant ass. Who has a face that closely resembles a baboon's butt? And that you have the manners of a New York street rat!" (Y/n) exclaimed, as she got to her feet. Deciding that she had already spent more than enough time looking at Clint's face. The former assassin looking through the cupboards of the run down cabin, in hopes of finding something that could be more edible than the ration pack that she had in her bag.

"What are you looking for?" Clint sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as (Y/n) banged cupboard door after cupboard door.

"Something.........anything.........."I don't know." (Y/n) replied. Doing her best to ignore the archer's continued grumbles.

"There isn't going to be anything. This place probably hasn't been used in ten years. We're just lucky that it's still standing. I.........."

"BRANDY!" (Y/n) suddenly declared, as her freezing fingers brushed away the dirt from the label. The full bottle of spirits, promising warmth, and an escape from Clint's constant whining about how bad she was.

"And given the vintage, I would say that this place hasn't been used in twenty years. Stark would pay a fortune for a bottle like this." (Y/n) chuckled, as she made her way back to the fire. Dropping unceremoniously to the floor, and slowly, ever so slowly, separating the bottle from the stopper. (Y/n) taking in the heady aroma and sighing happily.