Some oneshots of your favorites!
I write for:
- Avengers/MCU
- Criminal Minds
- Harry Potter
- Star Wars
- The Originals
- The 100
- Twilight
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I own none of these characters. All rights go to their respective creator:
- Stan Lee (Avengers/MCU)
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You aren't an Avenger. You're a bartender at a local bar— hardly superhero material. So when Clint Barton asked you out on a date, you were surprised. You're just an average person. But Clint asked you out anyway. Maybe it's because you're just a regular person that he asked you out.
Still, you weren't going to say no, no matter how bad of an idea your best friend thought it was.
"He's an Avenger, (Y/N)," (Y/F/N) says for the millionth time. You throw on a nice pair of jeans and a sweater, ignoring her comment. "It's a bad idea."
"Why?" you question, fed up with her negativity.
"It's dangerous to be involved with an Avenger. That's just common sense."
"It's one date, (Y/F/N). We aren't getting married."
"Yet," she says. You roll your eyes and finish up your makeup.
"Listen, I appreciate your concern. Truly. But I'm going on one date with him. It probably won't go anywhere."
"It's not like I can stop you," she mumbles.
"You're learning!" you tease, slipping on your shoes.
"Just be careful, okay?"
"Always am," you grin, giving her a hug as you leave your shared apartment.
You walk the short distance to the little cafe that you and Clint had agreed on. You enter, looking around for the Avenger.
As soon as you lock eyes with him, he smiles and stands, giving you a hug.
"You look beautiful," he compliments, causing a blush to form.
"Thank you. You look good, too." You immediately cringe at your words, knowing how bland and cheesy they sound.
"Thank you," he smiles, putting you at ease. You sit in the booth across from him, glancing at the menu. You already know what you're getting— since you looked up the menu beforehand— so you're just doing it for show. "What sounds good?"
"Probably the buttermilk pancakes," you muse, closing the menu.
"Good choice. They're really good here."
"You've been here before?" He nods.
"Yep. It's one of my favorite places to eat. Cheap prices. Good food. Even better people."
"Barton!" someone shouts, walking over to you. He brightens as the waitress approaches.
"Hey, Paula. How's business today?"
"Oh, same old, same old. Rupert's late per usual. Can't count on that kid for anything," she mumbles, shaking her head. "The usual, I assume?"
"You know me well," Clint replies, handing Paula the menu.
"And what can I get you, honey?" Paula asks you.
"Buttermilk pancakes and an ice water, please," you say, handing her your menu.
"Comin' right up." You watch her walk away, smiling as she tips one of the waiters' hats forward.
"You weren't kidding," you say, turning back to Clint.
"About what? Being a regular?" You nod. "Like I said. Good food even better people."
"Yeah, she seems nice."
"She is, unless you're late like Rupert. Never once heard her not complain about him."
"Why doesn't she fire him?"
"Oh, she's threatened to plenty of times. Problem is he's her nephew, and though she doesn't show it, she has a huge soft spot for him."
"Ah, family," you muse.
"Family means a lot, though," Clint says.
"Oh, I agree. I don't know what I'd do without my little brother."
"How old is he?"
"Twenty-five. A handful even now, but he's a good kid."
"Yeah, my kids are handfuls, too, but I'd do anything for them."
"Oh, you have kids?" you ask, surprised.
"Yeah. I, um, hope that's not a dealbreaker," Clint says, sounding insecure. You shake your head, smiling.
"Not at all. I love kids. How old are they?"
"Oh, good," he breathes. "Cooper is fourteen, Lila is eleven, and Nathaniel is one." Clint must've seen your surprise at Nathaniel's age, because he smiles sheepishly. "My ex and I divorced just before we found out she was pregnant," Clint explains. "She couldn't handle the superhero lifestyle, and I don't blame her one bit. We're still good friends. She's a wonderful mom."
"I'm glad it ended well. Your kids take it okay?"
"Pretty well. We tried to make it as easy on them as possible."
"You sound like a great dad," you compliment. Clint smiles softly.
"I try. They deserve more, but I give them what I can."
"I'm sure they love you even so."
The rest of your date is filled with laughter and getting to know each other, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't smitten with him.
As you leave the restaurant, Clint smiles down at you.
"I had a great time," he says. You return the smile.
"Me, too. You're a great guy, Clint."
If possible, his smile grows. "Is it safe to say you'd say yes if I asked you on a second date?"
"Try it," you grin.
"(Y/N), would you bless me with a second date?" You pretend to think about it, but can't keep a straight face.
"I'd love to."
"Any place in particular?" he asks as you stop in front of your apartment.
"How about your little hole in the wall again?"
"I think it's going to become our hole in the wall," Clint says, grinning.
"Okay, how about our little hole in the wall?" you correct.
"Perfect." Clint hesitates as you look up at him, and you can tell he's unsure of what to do next.
You, of course, help him out with that by pressing your lips to his.
Clint stills for a moment smiling into it. You both grin like idiots, making it less of a kiss and more of a smiling with your lips pressed to his.
You pull away, still smiling. Clint scratches the back of his neck endearingly and you giggle.
"See you soon, Clint," you say as you unlock your apartment door.
"See you soon, (Y/N)."
As you close your apartment door, you lean against it, your heart hammering against your ribcage.
