Posted in clint barton, fanfiction, reader insert

Apartment X – Chapter 4

A Hawkeye Fanfic


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Character pairing:  
Clint Barton x F!Reader

Word Count: 1754

Warnings:  Talk of cam work

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.

Chapter 4

You were a little nervous.  It was ridiculous really.  You knew Clint Barton.  You had keys to his apartment.  You saw him every day – often in his boxers and you in nothing but a robe.  It was Clint.  Your Clint.  Your friend and neighbor and local coffee thief.

Tonight you were going on your first date with him and you were freaking out.  You had already tried on five different outfits and you were about to move on to your sixth.  You wanted tonight to be perfect.  You wanted to look perfect.  You wanted to be the perfect start to the perfect relationship with your perfect partner.

You went back to your closet and pawed through the clothes you owned again, now wishing you’d gone out to buy something new just for the date.  As you shifted each hanger over, the perfect dress popped out at you.  It was short and flirty and in a soft periwinkle, a color you knew Clint would like.  You pulled it out and put it on, checking yourself out in the mirror.

This was it.  It was sexy but sweet.  It made you feel desirable but not so much that you’d be worried Clint would only be thinking about sex all night.  You wished you’d thought of it earlier.

With your dress chosen, you started on your hair and makeup.  You had just picked up your foundation when you heard Clint calling your name from downstairs.

“I’m in my bedroom.  Just fixing my hair!” you called back.

Clint appeared in the doorway a moment later.  He wore a gray suit that didn’t quite fit him properly.  It looked like it had been made for someone with much broader shoulders than Clint and was a little too long in the arms.  He’d paired it with a tie in the same shade of purple as your dress.

“So this is where the magic happens?” he asked as he looked around your room.  As well as the typical bedroom items such as a bed, a dresser, books, and knick-knacks, you also had a lighting and sound rig along with two video cameras pointed at your bed.

“Yep,” you said.  “Welcome to the studio.”

He stepped inside and started poking around your equipment.  He shifted the light diffusers and moved one of the cameras back and forth on the tripod as he looked through the viewfinder.  “You have a pretty decent setup,” Clint said.

“I put on a pretty decent show,” you said as you watched him in the mirror trying to read his reaction.  You didn’t usually take dates in to see your setup unless you’d specifically roped them in to participate in a stream.  Even the most open-minded people were often a little startled to come face-to-face with it, and it would definitely not be something you did on a first date.  You wondered how he was taking it.  Would it scare him off being faced directly with it or would he be a little too interested in it?

Clint just looked curious.  He was poking around clearly more interested in the rig than the things you filmed with it.  “You make pretty decent money?” he asked.

“I don’t do too badly,” you answered.

Clint looked over at you as you sat at your vanity.  “Do you want help with your hair and makeup?”

You turned to face him, looking him in the eyes.  “Do you actually know how to do hair and makeup?”

“I grew up in the circus.  I know all about hair and makeup,” he said, coming over to you and looking a lot like an excitable puppy.

“I don’t want to look like a clown!” you yelped.

“I don’t want you to look like a clown either!” he laughed.  “God.  I still have nightmares about clowns.  Trust me.  You’ll look good.”

You bit your bottom lip as you looked into his eyes and only saw earnestness reflected back.  “Okay.  Fine.  I trust you.”

There was something intimate about someone else doing your hair and makeup.  It was an intimacy that beat sex in many ways.  He was so close and using such a tender gentle touch.  It made your scalp prickle and a tingle ran right to your core.  Part of you wanted to shove him back on the bed and forget about the rest of the date altogether.  Then he told you to take a look in the mirror.

You were good at doing your hair and makeup.  Your job needed you to be.  Still, Clint had made you up flawlessly.  You barely even recognized yourself.

“You can do this and you decided to be an Avenger?” you teased.

“I’m even better at shooting arrows,” he said with a quirk of his eyebrows.  “Impressive, huh?”

“That must be something to see,” you said, getting up.  “Shall we?”

Clint offered you his arm and the two of you made your way downstairs.  “So what’s the plan for tonight?” you asked.

“Dinner,” Clint answered as he tried to flag down a cab. “Then we can do something either fun or romantic.  Go to the top of the Empire State Building or go roller skating.  See some live music maybe?  We can play it by ear.”

“Sounds like fun,” you said.

A cab pulled up and it was only a short drive before it was dropping them off at a restaurant.  It was cute – light and airy, but upscale.  The Michelin Star on the door surprised you.  It seemed like a very un-Clint-like place to bring someone.  You looked at him with your eyebrows raised as he pulled the door open for you.  “You know pizza would have been fine?”

“We get pizza all the time.  This is our first date.  It needs to be perfect,” Clint said.

You chuckled to yourself.  It was reassuring to know you both had completely unreasonable expectations for the date.

The maître d’ took you both out to a table in the garden around the back and set you up with your menus before passing your drink orders on to the bar.  Clint flinched as his eyes moved down the menu.  “Pricey…” he whistled.

You made decent money, so you weren’t concerned about being stuck and unable to pay.  You also weren’t expecting him to pay for you.  But you knew Clint.  The guy who grew up poor and ran away to the circus had trouble with extravagance.  He was a one-dollar slice guy, not a fifty-dollar steak guy.

“We can still bail,” you said.  “Vinnie’s does pizza topped with tiny slices of pizza on it.”

Clint laughed.  “Next date for sure,” he said as his eyes skimmed down the menu.  He huffed and shook his head in disbelief.  “Tonight it’s a forty-dollar wagyu culotte.  Whatever the hell that is.”

You pulled out your phone and quickly googled.  “See here I was thinking culottes were pants.  It’s a cut of steak also known as top.  Wagyu… so it’s that massaged and well-fed type.” 

“Okay, yeah.  Yep.  Wagyu beef steak,” he decided, folding up his menu and putting it in front of him.  “All the way from the land of Oz.  I guess that’s worth forty dollars.” 

You chuckled and reached over, taking his hand.  “We’re splitting the bill.”

“No.  No.  No, no, no, no, no,” Clint said.  “First date I pay.”

“You really don’t have to,” you said.  “I make good money and I’m not exactly a traditional girl.”

“No.  I know.  But I’m trying to impress you,” he said playfully.  “Besides, I chose the expensive restaurant.  I should pay.”

You smirked and gently squeezed his hand.  “In that case, I’m getting the lobster… stuffed with caviar.”

“What?!” Clint yelped.  There’s lobster?”

You fell back laughing.  “No.  There isn’t.  Don’t worry.  You don’t need to take out a mortgage on your building to pay for my meal.”

The two of you took a little longer to decide what you wanted to eat and when the waitress had dropped off your drinks and taken your orders you turned your full attention to Clint.  “We’re not putting too much pressure on this date are we?” you asked.

He shrugged.  “I hope not.  I mean, I know I like you, and I know we get along.  We see each other every day though.  I wanted to mark the start of us being a couple as different.  You know?”

You chuckled and nudged him under the table.  “We could have just had sex.”

Clint quirked an eyebrow at you.  “We still can, baby.”

Both of you laughed and Clint took your hand again.  “I don’t know.  Sometimes I think romance is dumb and sometimes I love it.  This place -” he waved his hand around “- I don’t think it’s us.  So we’ll remember it.  Now when someone asks what our first date was like, we’ll know it was here and I spent too much money on a steak from Australia and I tried an espresso martini.  And then after we did something we’d never normally do, like roller skating, or going for a ride on the carousel in the park, or making out on the top of the Empire State Building.  Or you know – whatever?  It won’t just be another day I showed up with pizza and we watched the masked singer.”

Your eyes softened as you watched him and for the first time it felt like your heart fluttered in your chest.  If you were falling for Clint before, you were now head over heels in a heap – completely and overwhelmingly in love.

“You are a complete and utter sap, Clinton Francis Barton,” you said, and leaned over the table and kissed him.

Clint’s lips melded perfectly with yours and his tongue grazed over your top lip, coaxing your mouth open and flicking inside. It was the perfect kiss.  Soft and tender and charged with emotion and an intense mutual attraction.

You both pulled back at the same time and he grinned at you.  “You used my full name.”

“It felt like a full name moment,” you said.

“For a second I thought that I was in trouble.”

You giggled and rubbed the tip of your nose up the side of his as your lips ghosted over his mouth.  Oh, you are absolutely in trouble, Clinton Francis Barton.”

His smile got even wider and his tongue flicked out and danced over your lips. “Good,” he said, his eyes crinkling with mischief. “I get the feeling it is just the kind of trouble I’ve been looking for.”


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