➸ Laid Bare by chez_amanda, eiluned

Warnings: none 
Characters: Clint, Natasha, Phil Coulson
Genres: hurt/comfort, fluff | Smut: yes, explicit 
Word count: 19594 | Status: complete

My comment: So much unapologetic smut.

“All right, Agent Barton. You’ve convinced Director Fury,” Coulson said as he stepped back into his office. “You are to fly to Moscow and make contact with Agent Romanoff. Provide assistance with her mission if she deems it necessary.”
Swallowing a sigh of relief, Clint picked up the black folder Coulson slid across the desk to him. Natasha was in trouble. Well, she might be in trouble. She had been undercover in Moscow for the last month and a half, and she hadn’t made contact with S.H.I.E.L.D. in the last two weeks. So she might be in trouble, but no one really knew, and Clint wasn’t going to take any chances. This was Natasha, and Clint never fucked around when her safety was on the line.
“That is your identity,” Coulson continued, sitting with his usual precision of movement. “You are Alex Reynolds, the son of an American oil baron, and you are in Moscow for a series of meetings with a Russian petroleum company. This will leave your evenings free to visit The Pigalle, the club where Agent Romanoff is working undercover. Your flight leaves tomorrow morning.”
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➸ Cupid by AlphaKantSpell

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, suicidal thoughts 
Characters: Clint, Natasha, Phil Coulson, Barney Barton
Genres: alternate universe (ish), hurt/comfort, romance | Smut: yes 
Word count: 46088 | Status: work in progress

My comment: What if Clint was actually a cupid? A cute (yet at times heartbreaking) Clintasha fic.

“Well Fuck.”
The capital F was important. It stood for “Frankly Ulcers Can Kill,” as in he felt a lethal ulcer forming because of the given circumstances. Those weren’t things a person said upon meeting the love of their life, with a capital F or otherwise. However, Clint had never been a normal person. Not even in the unusual fellow sort of sense – he was literally not a person. To be more precise he was a Cupid. ‘Match Maker, Match Maker make me a match’. That kind. He had wings and everything (though they were tiny – no bigger than a quail’s wings, not even restaurant quality). Clint even had an inexhaustible set of magic love sparking arrows, though that’s getting ahead of things.
More important than all the menial tidbits about Cupids and their duties was the fact that Clint could see the love strings that connected any random person to any other random person. They came in a multitude of colors from platonic friendly yellow to Roxanthin Red for romantic love, invisible and intangible to non Cupids. He once followed a rosebud pink line from a quiet girl on a city bus to a farm hand several miles away. The string connected the two by their ring fingers over the long distance without snagging. Clint pricked the woman with an arrow (just as invisible to her as her own love line) with an urge to stop by the farm one day soon. As far as he knew the couple was still happily married.
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➸ I’m Not Ready (For the Weight of Us) by Sproid

Warnings: none 
Characters: Clint, Natasha, Phil Coulson, Maria Hill
Genres: hurt/comfort, angst, romance | Smut: yes 
Word count: 7655 | Status: complete

My comment: Clintasha in the early days of their partnership.

Clint isn’t worried.
Really, he’s not. He knows damn well that Natasha’s capable of handling whatever Fury throws at her and then going back for more. Just because she’s been in his office for three hours now doesn’t mean that things are going badly. Fury probably approved Natasha’s enrollment with SHIELD within two minutes, and they’ve spent the rest of the time exchanging frightening stories from their even more frightening pasts.
No, Clint isn’t worried. He might be a little anxious though, which is why he’s currently sat in his room cleaning his bows while listening to radio chatter. Just in case. If Natasha and Fury had a throwdown he’d probably hear the commotion even from here, but it pays to have an ear to every available source of information.
At the knock on his door, Clint scrambles off the bed so quickly that he almost gets tangled up in the sheets and just barely stops himself going head first into the wall. Gives his elbow a good whack in the process though, which hurts like hell. When he opens the door to Natasha, who definitely heard the thump, she looks amused but doesn’t say anything. Clint’s pride is grateful for that.
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➸ forgeries and fire (series) by ohladybegood

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence
Characters: Clint, Natasha, Fury, Coulson 
Genres: hurt/comfort | Smut: none 
Word count: 3826 | Status: complete

My comment: Basically the stories of Clint and Natasha and their beginnings.

There is a saying: they hang the thief who stole 5 kopecks, and honor the one who stole 50. She says, “there is red in my ledger,” but what she means is, they honor me, in Russia.
At the beginning of things—at the beginning of all things—there was fire. She has no memories earlier than this. She had parents, because she has DNA, but she can’t remember their faces. There are no days at the beach, there are no winters bundled up in their shared bed in a condemned building in the heart of Stalingrad. There is fire, and then Ivan’s hands, warm and callused. Smoke curled around her ankles like fingers. His gun had struck her legs as they ran.
Yuri is only a few years older than she is, but he takes her in stride, this new thing that his father brings home. He calls her TashTash, until she hits him to make him stop. Than he calls her spider, and neither of them know why.
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➸ All The Pretty Little Horses by Artemis_Day

Warnings: none 
Characters: Clint, Natasha, Coulson, OC
Genres: angst, pregnancy | Smut: none (some brief mention) 
Word count: 7673 | Status: complete

My comment: I hereby bring to you a Clintasha and baby (pregnancy?) fic. There’s so much angst it’s gonna suffocate you, but it’s so real, and is definitely a must-read. Not everyone has a happily ever after.

Natasha Romanov is an enigma, and after all this time, Clint Barton has gotten used to it. Almost everything he knows about her comes from the file he was first handed when it was his mission to kill her. She was born in Russia, raised in an orphanage, just out of her teens, trained from early childhood to be an assassin, natural redhead, etc.
Everything else he knows, he learned over time, after he ‘made a different call’, as she describes it. He learns that she has a weakness for stylish clothes, and hoards fashion magazines away with her stash of weapons so she can flip through them in the calmer moments. He learns that she speaks several languages other than English and her native Russian. Her flawless grasp of both French and Italian saved him from an international incident two years into their partnership, and once he’s done being utterly humiliated, he can never thank her enough. He learns that she doesn’t quite have the stoicism everyone thinks she does. One day, after a particularly difficult assignment, he found her crying in the bathroom, mascara running down her cheeks as she leaned over the sink with the water on full blast. He dried her tears with a handkerchief, having no idea what else he could do for her. Truth is, he may be more emotionally stunted than she could ever hope to be, but at least he knows that he hates seeing her like that more than anything.
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➸ Silver Bells by AlphaFlyer

Warnings: none 
Characters: Clint, Natasha, Fury, Coulson, Hill, OC
Genres: romance, fluff, family | Smut: none 
Word count: 12061 | Status: complete

My comment: It’s not even near Christmas, but this fic brings back all the beautiful Clintasha Christmas feels :’) Lots of cute fluff to satisfy all your immense fluff-needs. It isn’t one of those ‘cute family fics’, if you’re wondering.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Clint stares at Fury as if the good Director has suddenly sprouted a second eye – on a stalk. “S.H.I.E.L.D. actually expects us to take a live baby on a mission? An immobile, inarticulate, defenseless miniature civilian…”
“… who isn’t even toilet trained?” Natasha finishes his sentence, but her partner isn’t done.
“And you want us to take that same baby into a situation where they’re not only exposed to dangerous criminal activity, but are actually the featured bait? Can’t you get R&D to give us a – what’s that term they throw around down there – live model decoy? Seems appropriate enough, under the circumstances.”
Natasha invokes the final trump card.
“Have you talked to Legal, whether S.H.I.E.L.D.’s third-party liability insurance covers cases of gross negligence by senior management? Imagine the law suit.”
“I’m confident that you two can make sure that the kid is not actually in danger,” Fury growls, unmoved. (The bit about the insurance, Natasha notices, is left unaddressed.)
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➸ You Were A Kindness by AlwaysLera

Warnings: non-con/rape, self harm, child abuse, childhood trauma 
Characters: Clint, Natasha, Phil 
Genres: angst, hurt/comfort | Smut: none 
Word count: 8701 | Status: complete

My comment: It’s beautifully angsty with a well-deserved happy ending for our favourite pair of assassins. One of my all-time favourites.

She liked to hear her feet hitting the ground. The steady clap clap clap clap of her sneakers against the surface of the city streets felt like the world affirming that she was alive, alive, alive, alive. There was something about the loudness of it that comforted her. Even her own breathing couldn’t drown out her steps the way her breathing drowned out her heartbeat. When she left the Red Room, she hunkered in the basement of abandoned buildings in a derelict town in southern Spain where unemployment was rampant and it was easy enough to slip between the cracks of a warehouse, hide between druggies, learn to pick out the shape of sharps on the floor in the dark. She used to take her pulse then, time it on her wrist watch, reassure herself that her pulse was normal for a woman of her height, size, weight, and fitness level. Normality made her feel alive, then.
It was not true what they said. There was no rooftop battle. She did not try and seduce Hawkeye. When she came to SHIELD, she was not whole. She was not the Black Widow. She had not been the Black Widow for a long time. It was a title she would earn back over years, long after she had chosen a new name, found herself again, learned to trust, and learned to love.
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