Another AU because I love your writing: Married Couple AU and it's there anniversary
The mission, as straightforward and simple as it had been, still left the two assassins exhausted as they trudged into their shoddy, low-key hotel on the outskirts of Bucharest. Though twenty six hours without sleep and tailing-turned-chasing a man across the rooftops of a city would do that to just about anyone.
As soon as they reached the stairs, Natasha felt Clint place a hand on her lower back, the only warning she was given before he, in one smooth motion, leaned down and swooped her into his arms, bridal style.
“The hell, Clint?!” she wasn’t about to fight out of his grasp, but all the same it was a curious surprise. “My legs still work just fine, you know.”
“Not after tonight, they won’t.” Letting out a quiet, throaty chuckle, he stopped to plant a kiss on the top of her head before continuing his way up to the third floor. “Just let me do this for you, Tash, alright?”
She didn’t push it further, instead letting her arms fall around his neck and her head against his chest, internally trying to dispel all the cliche thoughts running through her brain about the safety of being tucked away in his arms, the feel of him holding her against his chest, and all the other pesky, fleeting emotions.
Eventually, after Clint somehow managed to juggle her while retrieving a room key out of his pocket, they made it back to their room. SHIELD really didn’t splurge on this one, but right now Natasha didn’t exactly care. Any bed would be a virtue from heaven to her.
Clint, apparently, had other things in mind. Setting her down on the mattress, he helped her out of her gear, starting with her boots, belts, accessories, leaving her suit for last and chasing the zipper down with kisses along her newly exposed skin. Once she was stripped of everything except her undergarments, he did the same to his own uniform, before finally crawling up her body and hovering his face over hers.
His hand found the chain she’d worn around her neck, unclasping it gently and removing the silver and emerald ring looped through it. Reaching for her left hand, he slid the ring back into its rightful place.
“Happy anniversary, Natasha Barton, you crazy, beautiful woman,” he whispered, as she finally pulled his lips down to crash against hers.
They say you can tell a lot about a person based off of what they drink, and quite frankly, Clint was beginning to believe that. There were the overworked businessmen who ordered extra shots of caffeine as though their lives depended on it, the soccer mom who orders a chai tea to try and juggle the scheduled chaos that is her life, the teenage hipster girls who take a photo of their seasonal special the second it arrives in their hands, and so on and so forth. No matter their differences, everyone falls into one overall category.
Until he meets her.
Well, not that he knows her in any true sense of the meaning. She’s different each day, a different name on the cup, a different outfit, different expression and persona. Different, save for two things: the same odd, custom drink she orders, and the haunted, lost look behind her guarded gaze.
It’s the day Clint is finally able to coax a small, genuine smile out of her that he decides he out to try the drink himself.