They were at Clint's apartment, babysitting Maria's daughter. They had babysitted the girl before, Maria was a single mom, and she was busy. The girl was 5 years old, her name was Aliya, and she was sweet, she never caused trouble.
Clint left the kitchen where he had been washing the dishes after dinner. He saw Natasha and Aliya playing with play-doh.
"What're my girls making?" he asked.
As Aliya answered Clint's question, Natasha tried to suppress the feeling that came with Clint's question. My girls. Almost like we're a family. Natasha swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.
Clint sat beside them, and picked up a lump of play-doh, then sniffed it.
"Mmmm.. Reminds me of my childhood," he said
"You smell play-doh?" asked Natasha.
"Well, yeah, I mean what kind of kid doesn't smell—" He bit his lip. "Sorry."
Natasha tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace instead. Clint hadn't had the best childhood either, but he had had something. Natasha wasn't jealous, she just wished sometimes that she could have those memories.
Clint clasped her hand, rubbing his finger gently across her knuckles. And there came that feeling again— family.
Author's note: Thanks for reading! Hope you're enjoying this story! Don't worry, there are still 38 chapters to go!
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Senses [Clint/Natasha]
FanfictionNeed some Clintasha? You've come to the right place. (random Clintasha one-shots based on the senses) [ cover made by @persephonee- ] -- Budapest was afterwards. Budapest was sitting in a shitty diner eating fatty cheese fries. Budapest was cheese...
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