➸ Faithfully by wtfrenchtoast

Warnings: none 
Characters: Clint, Natasha 
Genres: smut, fluff | Smut: yes
Word count: 3392 | Status: complete

My comment: So much shameless smut + Clintasha baby fic c:

Clint startles awake. His phone buzzes obnoxiously; who the hell? He glances at the digital clock on his nightstand. 3:44. And not in the afternoon.
Bleary-eyed, he grabs the offending object and glares at it accusingly, until he notices the source. It’s a text from Natasha.
You up?
She’s in Beijing, working. It’s roughly, what, quarter to five in the afternoon there? He groans, but replies anyway.
I am now. You good?
Get online.
He blinks slowly. If he had ever made the mistake of thinking that being married to Natasha meant he would have her figured out, that was an illusion long past.
Alright.
Clint swings his legs over the side of his narrow, SHIELD-standard twin bed and clicks the lamp on. The yellowed light is harsh and he winces as his eyes adjust.

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➸ Chess by HappeningInMyHead

Warnings: none 
Characters: Clint, Natasha 
Genres: hurt/comfort, angst | Smut: yes 
Word count: 4215 | Status: complete

My comment: Oh my goodness, all the beautiful smut. So…..what exactly made Clint bring Natasha into SHIELD?

Some people compared him to God.
He was watching from the rooftop as she emerged from the building into the throng of people outside, her red hair taunting him as she swished from person to person. It’d be so easy to end her right then and there: to send an arrow shooting through her skull at breakneck speeds and watch the chaos that ensued around her lifeless figure, but he needed information from her. The arrow would have to wait.
Leaving his makeshift nest he gripped the edge of the roofing and swung in through a door on the second floor into a vacant room. He shot out into the hallway only encountering a single tipsy couple as they scurried to their room. He took the stairs two at a time, threading seamlessly through the thickening crowd. He slipped out into the cool night air and caught sight of her instantly. Her read curls bounced as she schmoozed another ancient businessman into a conniption. He sped up as she began to turn away and barely caught her shoulder in time. She whipped around to face him, her body tense, and her blue eyes sharp and warning. He looked into her eyes and he knew—without a doubt—that she knew exactly why he was here. He broke out into a jovial smile as he released her shoulder from his vice like grip.
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➸ 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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➸ Grieve by ReaperWriter

Warnings: character death 
Characters: Clint, Natasha 
Genres: hurt/comfort, angst | Smut: yes 
Word count: 1795 | Status: complete

My comment: Natasha comforts Clint in the few ways she’s good at after Coulson’s death.

From where he stands, leaning against the tree, in the shadows, the bright gleam of the brass on the shiny, black coffin hurts his eyes. He would rather be up the tree, bow in hand, guarding them all, but Nat’s hand on his arm, the look in her eyes, stops him.
They are the two odd birds in a team of circus freaks and weirdos. No crazy exo-skeleton powered by an internal arc reactor for them. No super serum or gamma radiation making them insanely stronger, nigh on invincible. And certainly no god like powers. Even if the Red Room had enhanced Tasha in some ways, over all, they are startlingly, achingly human. He knows, because he remembers the feeling of waking up the morning after that had taken chunky swaths out of Manhattan while saving the world to the feeling of at least two cracked ribs, splinters of glass, a strained back, and a shoulder he is pretty sure he re-located himself when he swung through that window. Of seeing her after, his hand unconsciously rising to wipe the tacky blood from her scalp.
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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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➸ In love and war by Anuna

Warnings: none
Characters: Clint, Natasha 
Genres: hurt/comfort, romance | Smut: yes 
Word count: 2720 | Status: complete

My comment: After Clint makes a different call, Natasha tries to sleep with him as some kind of debt payment. Most of these fics have him declining - but this fic explores the possibility that he does actually sleep with her and emotions.

They say everything is allowed in love and war. Except love is for children and war is for fools.
Natasha isn’t sure she likes the list of rules that SHIELD has, but at the same time, their disciplinary procedures usually don’t involve killing their operatives. She is still not trusted enough to be sent on a mission on her own. She is being trained, observed, briefed, and everything she does, every intel she gives is being checked and double checked. She knew, of course, that this would happen and she agreed to it, but it doesn’t make the process go any faster, and she doesn’t feel any easier. She likes to spend her time sparring, but most other agents don’t enjoy sparring with her.
Then there’s agent Barton. Hawkeye. Clint. That guy who was sent to put an arrow through her, and he could have, but he didn’t. Instead he offered her a cigarette and told her that he really didn’t want to spill her blood. She looked at him and she knew that he could do it, that his decision wasn’t caused by some kind of a weakness but a conscious choice. She thinks about it – the way the rain poured over the street, wide and empty as he waited for her, his cigarette a single spot of light in the long sea of darkness. Clint is like that light, small, just a spot, but it’s there and you can’t miss it. It’s an unnerving thought, too large to fit, and it’s pricking her mind. She owes him. The notion is constantly there, even when it’s silent.
She feels indebted.
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➸ The Red Thread (series) by Anuna, Koren M (CyberMathWitch)

Warnings: descriptions of violence and blood 
Characters: Clint, Natasha
Genres: angst, hurt/comfort | Smut: yes 
Word count: 21277 | Status: work in progress

My comment: Clint and Natasha begins with red. Read it. You’re gonna love every single tiny bit of this story.

It begins with red.
She begins (again) when she cuts off the dyed hair. All of it, the artificial faded blond hanging around her shoulders. She cuts it off mercilessly, because it makes her feel faded as well, like a picture without a face.
In days to come she watches (gleefully) how red reappears.
She is red. Strands of red, swirling around her like snakes, winding like ropes, a beautiful warning – her hair, the only thing that was always hers.
She knows she is red in the blur of things and choices; different kinds of bread and different ways to have your coffee; a variety of fabrics under her hand while she touches and tests them under her palm. She wonders what would the girl from two months ago like, the last one among the fake girls. It would be like flicking a switch and then, this would be easy.
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➸ Simple Together by samalander

Warnings: none 
Characters: Clint, Natasha
Genres: fluff, romance | Smut: yes 
Word count: 2056 | Status: complete

My comment: Beautifully written smut and fluff. Read it, you won’t regret it.

So many people look at Natasha and only see what she wants them to. They see the quirk of her hip, the swell of her breasts, the bow of her lips, and they assume that she is perfect. They assume that she is the paradigm she presents; they forget that she’s actually, under all the fight and deadly grace, a human woman.
Clint doesn’t make that mistake.
He knows about her faults; even the ones he hasn’t seen firsthand, because she’s told him about them in great detail. And Clint loves her for them, he loves the way she keeps score, like she has something to atone for.
(She doesn’t, not with him.)
And he loves how real she is, solid and soft under his fingertips in a way that no one else in his life is. Real like a weapon, like his bow, and her knows her cracks and flaws in the same intimate way.
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➸ All Your Metal Armor by surreallis

Warnings: none 
Characters: Clint, Natasha, Fury 
Genres: angst, hurt/comfort | Smut: yes 
Word count: 3334 | Status: complete

My comment: A story of how Natasha helps Clint heal after the New York incident. It’s pure divinity.

She is accustomed to living without breath. This is the life she has chosen, was thrust into; living without the time to process the action. Moving without the time to just stand and take a breath.
After the particularly big operations though, she sometimes has no choice.
She expects downtime once she and Clint drive away from the Avengers. She hasn’t quite decided what she wants to do, because SHIELD still has ‘tests’ for Clint and she’s been through them too many times to walk away without waiting for him.
She isn’t really surprised when, once those tests are over, Fury shows up and gives her a digital itinerary card for her shortly-upcoming vacation. In fact, he gives her two, and then he sets Clint’s already-packed bag next to her, and his eyes give her that look.
The one that says: Watch him.
She says nothing, because even though she knows this thing between Clint and her, it’s not a secret, she still doesn’t like expressing it to others. Even to Fury. It feels too much like exposure.
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➸ We Were Emergencies by gyzym

Warnings: none 
Characters: Clint, Natasha, Loki 
Genres: angst, hurt/comfort, romance | Smut: yes 
Word count: 37154 | Status: complete

My comment: Aside from some names wrongly spelt, you’re going to love the plot, the idea, the story and the everything.

Clint leaves it for two days, three days, a week, drowns himself in good vodka and bad calls, does his best not to think about it. He’s watched Natasha play this game before, post-apocalypse patch jobs—because that’s what this is, really, whether he’ll say it out loud or not. The end of the world can land hard even if the world’s still spinning; nothing quite like a good bout of mind control to remind you that you’re not in control at all.
He leaves it for a week, seven aching days where he doesn’t speak to anyone, doesn’t read the news, hides his phone underneath the hotel mattress and doesn’t go outside. He leaves it for a week, because it’s supposed to be his turn, damn it; he leaves it for a week because he knows the truth, if he’s honest, suspected it the moment he woke up and knew it for certain when she let him walk away. A week is as long as he can let himself live in limbo, can play at excuses and drown it in drink. On the eighth day, he picks up his phone.

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➸ Intimacy by eiluned

Warnings: none 
Characters: Clint, Natasha 
Genres: angst, hurt/comfort, romance | Smut: yes, explicit 
Word count: 8696 | Status: complete

My comment: Beautiful story on Clint and Natasha’s developing trust and relationship.

Natasha likes sex very much. She just doesn’t like intimacy.
Intimacy means opening herself up to another person, letting them get close enough to her that they could hurt her, and that’s the complete opposite of everything she’s ever been trained for.
She likes the feel of a cock inside of her, and she likes the way a man moans when she makes him lose control. She enjoys it, enjoys the power she has over him, the control over his pleasure, but she always kicks him out afterward and takes care of herself. She needs all of that control in her own hands, and she’s never wanted to come during sex itself. She just stores away the sensations, the faceless pleasure of pinning a man down, the dominant surge of arousal, and saves her own release for the quiet dark of her own room.
But then Clint insinuates himself into her life.
It’s a few years before they have sex. He’s gentlemanly with her, which amuses her to no end. He hits on anyone attractive, but with her, he keeps a polite distance. That isn’t to say he doesn’t flirt with her, tease her, make her actually like him as opposed to just tolerating his presence in her life, because he does all of that and more. She knows he wants her because she’s trained to know things like that. But he respects her, which is a refreshing change.
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