𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

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2.7k Words

You and Clint have been married for two years now, and even have a two year old baby girl together, Veronica. Though you liked calling her Ronnie. While Clint was the grumpy one in the relationship, you were the happy, positive one.

Clint was in the kitchen, feeding Veronica, but she always spat on him which made him frustrated. You just took a shower and then walked into the kitchen, seeing them. You laughed at the sight, but Clint frowned at you.

"Your turn." He walked towards the bathroom, probably going to shower the bits of food your daughter had spat on him off him.

You fed Veronica, and after some minutes, Clint came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist.

"Look, daddy's back. Hopefully that shower washed away all that negativity." You said to your daughter in a joyful baby voice, making her giggle.

Clint stood at the doorway of the kitchen, watching you interact with Veronica while feeding her, and he rolled his eyes at your comment. He leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, the towel still around his waist.

"Don't encourage her." He grumbled, his voice laced with exhaustion. He walked closer to you two, his eyes narrowing at Veronica's messy face, where pieces of mushed food were stuck. "How can someone so small make such a mess?"

You laughed softly, not taking his grumpy demeanor too seriously. "She gets that from you. Always making a mess in the kitchen when you cook." You teased, your eyes meeting his for a moment.

Veronica finished her food then, and now her mouth and face were all smothered with food. You wiped her face off a bit with a towel then picked her up, setting her on her high chair.

You then turned to Clint. "She's a cute mess though. Can't deny that."

Clint grumbled again, his expression remaining grumpy as you teased him. He knew you were mostly joking, but he couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed at the comment about his cooking.

He watched as you picked up Veronica and wiped her face, his frustration at her messiness subsiding a bit at your words. "Yeah, well, the cuteness wears off when you have to clean it up." He said, his tone still gruff as he crossed his arms once more.

You chuckled softly, amused by Clint's grumpy response. You walked closer to him, a playful smirk on your lips. "Oh, come on. It's just a little bit of food, not the end of the world." You teased, reaching out and gently pinching his cheek, your hand then lingering there. "You're just grumpy because she spat food in your face again. It's a little payback for all the times you mess up the kitchen."

Clint's expression softened slightly as you approached him, but he still tried to maintain his grumpy facade. He sighed heavily as you pinched his cheek, but a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, well, paybacks aren't supposed to be this messy..." he grumbled, his eyes meeting yours as your hand lingered on his cheek. "And I don't make THAT much of a mess in the kitchen." he protested weakly.

You raised an eyebrow at his weak protest, a knowing smile on your face. "Oh? So the flour on the floor and the splattered sauce on the counter are just imaginary?" You teased, your hand moving from his cheek to his chest, your fingers fiddling with the towel around his waist. "I'm pretty sure you leave the kitchen looking like a disaster zone every time you try to cook." You continued, your voice laced with amusement.

Clint's cheeks flushed slightly as you called him out on his kitchen messiness, and he let out another sigh. He tried to feign outrage, scoffing at your words. "Hey, I'm trying my best..." he grumbled.