clintasha oneshots

Stormbreakers

The rain came down in sheets, drenching Clint and Natasha as they huddled behind the remnants of an abandoned cabin. Thunder rumbled overhead, masking the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Six," Natasha whispered, her Glock held steady.

Clint nodded, gripping his bow. "We take the first three, then split left."

The plan was sound—until lightning illuminated the forest, revealing their position. Gunfire erupted, forcing them to dive into the mud.

"Great plan, Barton!" Natasha shouted over the chaos.

"You're the one who wanted to come to Finland!" Clint shot back, loosing an arrow that exploded in a cloud of smoke, giving them cover.

Natasha rolled her eyes, sliding across the wet ground to take out one of the gunmen with a swift kick. Clint followed her lead, firing arrows with pinpoint accuracy despite the storm.

They regrouped behind a fallen tree, breathing hard. Natasha's hair clung to her face, her eyes blazing with determination.

"You're soaked," Clint said, catching his breath.

"So are you," she shot back, smirking.

A sudden burst of light caught their attention—a flare fired into the sky, signaling reinforcements.

"We're outnumbered," Natasha said, reloading her weapon.

"Yeah," Clint replied, his grin returning. "But they don't have us."

Natasha gave a small laugh. "You're ridiculous."

"And you love it."

Without waiting for a response, Clint grabbed her hand and pulled her up. They ran together, weaving through the trees as bullets whizzed past. With every movement, their synergy was flawless—Natasha covering Clint as he prepared his next shot, Clint taking out enemies before they got too close.

When the last gunman fell, they found themselves alone in the clearing, rain still pouring.

Clint turned to her, his expression soft. "You okay?"

Natasha nodded, her hand brushing against his. "I'm fine. Thanks to you."

He hesitated for a moment, then reached up to push a strand of wet hair from her face. "Anytime."

She looked at him, her walls lowering just enough for him to see the warmth in her gaze. "You're not bad at this whole hero thing."

"I have my moments."

They stood there, rain cascading around them, until Natasha leaned in and kissed him—quick and fierce, like everything she did.

Clint blinked, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Not complaining, but what was that for?"

"Shut up, Barton," she said, grabbing his hand and leading him into the woods.