Posted in clint barton, fanfiction, reader insert

Apartment X – Chapter 1

A Hawkeye Fanfic

MASTERLIST

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Character pairing:  
Clint Barton x F!Reader

Word Count: 1971

Warnings:  Smut (vaginal masturbation, cam work), MF smut on series.

Synopsis:   You had chosen your apartment for a lot of reasons.  It was quiet.  It had good light.  It was secure.  Your landlord was an Avenger.  It was a good space to live and work and feel safe. When you become friends with your landlord Clint Barton, it also comes with the potential of a pretty special boyfriend.  You’re just not sure how the public will react to finding out that one of the Avengers is dating a Camgirl.

A/N: Reader is a camgirl.  This fic is not a rescue the sex worker or fetishize the sex worker fic.  (I played a game where the love interest was a cam girl and I loved her so much that I wanted to write a fic where the main character was one too).


Chapter 1

Sex work was never something you dreamed of going into as a child.  While your friends spoke of wanting to be vets and astronauts and teachers you didn’t have ‘simulate sex while people watched and made requests’ on the list.  Yet, it was where you ended up,  and if you were really honest, you kind of loved it.

Being a cam girl had a lot of benefits.  You got to work from home.  You made good money.  You could do it while you were on vacation and not have it take up too much of your time.  Your fans constantly complimented you and built you up.  Plus, you really liked sex and if you could give yourself an orgasm and get paid for it – that was a double win.

Not that it was all easy.  Working for yourself meant that you had to be able to balance your books.  A week of sickness meant no income whatsoever, so you had to make sure there was always a buffer zone for emergencies.  Most of your clients were great, but there were always bad seeds, people who didn’t have boundaries, stalkers, and people who liked to see you scared.  It wasn’t exactly the most widely accepted of jobs either.  When people found out what you did, there was a pretty good chance they were going to be judgemental about it.  Your parents didn’t exactly brag about their daughter, the camgirl.  Finding a romantic partner who was truly okay with the job was a little tricky.

But even with all the bad, you liked it.  You were good at it, and the last thing you felt was shame when you told people what you did.  If they wanted to judge you for your job, that was on them, not you.  You were no Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman waiting to be rescued.  You had control of your life and you liked what you were doing with it.

Or at least you would like it – if the sound of your neighbor fighting with someone wasn’t filtering through your wall and distracting you from the orgasm you were poised on having.  You kept thinking about how loud they must be considering you were in your loft bedroom so they were technically having this fight not only below you but to the left.  You looked at the message wall as you continued to fuck yourself with your toy.  No one watching your stream seemed to pick up on the outside sound.  You decided it might just be time to fake it and call it a day.

“Henry?  You want me to get on all fours?  Facing which way, baby?” you asked in a breathy voice, as you grabbed out one comment from the stream.

A whole slew of the word ass filled the screen, making you laugh and you quickly got onto your hands and knees, ass to the camera, and returned to fucking yourself with the thick dildo the viewers had selected for you to use.

You started making louder noises as you moved the toy in and out, trying to make the show convincing for them.  There was a crash from next door – the sound of tableware being broken – and you used the unintentional jump you made act as the starting spasm of an orgasm you weren’t having.  “Oh fuck yes!” you cried out and let yourself fall onto the mattress, shivering and twitching as if you’d just come hard.

You slowly pulled the toy from your pussy and sat up.  “That’s all we have time for, lovers,” you said playfully, leaning over the computer so they all got a good look at your tits.  “I hope it was as good for you as it was for me.”

You blew a kiss to the camera and switched off the feed, quickly getting up and pulling on a robe and cinching it around your waist.  You grabbed your phone and hurried down to check on your neighbor.

It was a risky move.  There was a reason you’d chosen this particular apartment building in Bed-Stuy, and it wasn’t its industrial-like architecture, its lack of parking, or its five-block walk to the nearest subway station.  This apartment block was owned by an actual Avenger, and being in it made you feel safe.

So while the screaming and banging from next door sounded like a domestic – a scorned lover wanting to let him know exactly how much she’d been hurt – there was a chance it was something much more dangerous.

You stepped outside to find Clint Barton looking dejected in his doorway as a very familiar black-haired woman with extremely pale skin yelled at him.

“You didn’t even think about me did you?” the black-haired woman yelled.  “I didn’t even enter your thoughts before you went to stick your dick in her!”

“Jess,” Clint sighed.  “I told you, I thought  you and I were just fooling around.” 

“That’s the problem you, jack-ass,” she said and swung at him.

Clint caught her wrist before she was able to connect with his face as you lunged toward them.  “Hey!  What do you think you’re doing?” you shouted, pulling out your phone.  “Get out of here before I call the cops.”

Both Clint and the woman turned to look at you. Clint smiled gratefully, while she scowled.  “Oh, yeah, I’m scared of the cops,” she snarked.

“Jess,” Clint said.  “I told you if you want to come inside and talk rationally, you can.  I know this is my fault, you have every right to be pissed at me.  But you can’t hit me anymore.  Not ever again.”

The woman huffed and looked like she was going to slap him again, she looked over at you and then back at Clint.  “Fine, but this isn’t over,” she snapped, yanking her hand free from Clint’s grasp.

“I’m sorry, Jess,” Clint said earnestly.  Jess flipped him off as she stormed down the stairs.

Clint laughed in that strained way that happens when you’re stressed and embarrassed.  “Well that was wild,” he said as he leaned against the door frame.  “Sorry about that.  Did we wake you?”

You shook your head and tugged your robe around you more firmly.  “Are you okay?  What was that?”

Clint laughed in that same stressed way as before and ran his hand through his hair.  “It’s a long story but it comes down to me accidentally cheating on her.”

“Oh god, please don’t be that guy.  What did you do?  Slip and your dick fell in someone?” You snarled.

“No.  Oh god no.  Nothing like that,” Clint said, raising his hands.  He chuckled and shook his head.  “It’s really complicated.”

You gestured to your door.  “Come in.  I’ll make you coffee.”

He looked at you, then your door, and then behind him before turning back to you again.  “Yeah, alright.  She broke my coffee pot anyway, so at the very least the coffee will be good.  Thanks, X.”

X. It was your apartment number.  The whole building was a mess of random letters that followed no obvious theme.  You were X, but Clint who was immediately next door to you was H.  There was a K, A, D, and G all in a row on the same floor, and there weren’t even enough apartments in the whole building to reach the letter X alphabetically.  Who numbered it the way they did and why was a mystery, and even more of a mystery was why no one ever questioned it.  And now apparently Clint was just going to call you X because he’d forgotten your name or something, even though you rented the apartment from him and your name was on the checks and the lease.

He followed you into your apartment and you went to your coffee machine and put a pod in it.  “Let me just throw on some clothes,” you said as you started it up and hurried up the stairs to your room, pulling your robe in close so that Clint couldn’t get a free look at the goods.

When you had a pair of pajama pants on and a singlet you headed back to find Clint finishing up the coffees.  “You sure we didn’t wake you?” Clint asked as he brought the coffees over to the table.  He gestured at you with the cup.  “I mean -”

You laughed and shook your head.  “No.  I was working.  Your little domestic interrupted work.”

Clint furrowed his brow as he took a seat. “You work naked?”

“Usually,” you said.

You could tell he had questions, but to his credit, he didn’t ask them.  “It was pretty funny you coming down and defending me in nothing but a robe,” Clint said. “You know that’s Spider-Woman, right?”

You froze with your cup held up to your mouth and stared at him.  “She what?”

“Spider-Woman.  Jessica Drew.  You know – superhuman strength, can zap you,” Clint said.  “You yelled at her with nothing on but a flimsy robe and threatened to call the cops on her.”

You suddenly felt either very stupid or exceedingly lucky.  You shook your head as tried to clear it and took a sip of our coffee.  “Can’t believe you cheated on Spider-Woman.”

“I’m an asshole.  Seriously.  But I swear it was an accident,” Clint said as he looked at you over the rim of his mug.  “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t realize she and I were actually dating?”

You snorted, nearly choking on a mouthful of your drink.  “No… how can you… okay, I definitely need to hear this one.”

“Okay – so,” Clint said.  “And I swear, I am in no way trying to make myself seem like I’m not the bad guy of this story, but we started hooking up when I lived with the rest of the Avengers.  I’d just gotten a divorce and – she’s kind of angry and very sexy and she invited me back to her room.  How could I say no to that?  And so while we were there we flirted all the time and hooked up all the time and made my ex-wife uncomfortable, and I admit that one time Cap asked if me and Jess were together and Jess was right there so I said yes.  I mean you say yes when you’ve just been making out with someone and then you get asked if you’re together.  But the thing is – we never actually went out.  Not ever.  And then I moved here and I’ve barely even seen her.  So I helped this woman out and one thing led to another and yes – I guess I cheated on Jess.  But in my head, we were just hooking up. I really should have checked first.  I liked it better when my wife just told me what we were.”

You blinked at him.  “Holy shit, you’re a disaster, aren’t you?”

He chuckled and nodded.  “So they tell me.”

“She shouldn’t have hit you,” you said, putting your cup down.

He frowned and shook his head.  “No.  She shouldn’t have.”

“Did she do that before?” you asked.

He frowned and shrugged a little.  “I mean today – yes.  She slapped me three times today.  Before?  Not like that.  She could be kind of scary though.”

“Is that why you moved away?”

He shook his head.  “No.  Yes.  Maybe.  It was messy.  My ex was there, and – well – Jess got angry a lot that I dared have a wife before her.  But it’s not like she didn’t know I had a wife before.  They literally fought aliens together.”

You reached over the table and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.  “Let that be a lesson to you, Clint Barton.  Don’t shit where you eat.” 

He laughed and raised his eyebrow at you.  “Now where would be the fun in that?”


// NEXT

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