Marvel Imagines, Preferences, One Shots, etc.

Clint Barton- Parents (c)

You were tired and slightly peeved. Your husband had to go on a mission, and you knew he didn't get a choice, but it upset you that he wasn't there when you needed him most.

But now it wasn't as bad. He was home. He walked through the door and called to you. As soon as he called to you, you were knocked out of your sleepy daze walking to the door. You were excited but you ached and was tired, running wasn't an option.

"Clint," you smiled.

He dropped his bag coming towards you pulling you into a hug. As he rested his chin on your shoulder he paused. Slowly he pulled back frowning at you.

"As your stomach gotten smaller?" he asked, "you look tired. Are you okay?"

"I have a surprise for you," you sighed taking his hand in yours.

He looked confused, but still complied in following you to your bedroom. Everything was the same as it was when he left, other than one thing. Next to your bed was a Moses basket.

Your husband furrowed his eyebrows before walking over to the basket gasping when he saw what was inside.

"You... our... what?" he asked.

"Fury tried to contact you, everyone did actually. But we couldn't. When you phoned telling me you'd be home later today, I thought it'd be nicer to tell you in person rather than over the phone," you smiled softly.

His smile grew as he leapt towards you pressing his lips to yours, pulling you to him.

"I am so sorry for not being there. Fury didn't give me a choice and it was supposed to be an easy mission. I can't believe I missed it," Clint rambled.

"Believe me you didn't miss much. A lot of screaming, a lot of fluids, nothing interesting. Ask Steve if you want an in depth view from the one that wasn't lying on the bed. Seen as you and Nat weren't in the country, I roped Cap into staying with me. Well not really roped, more my water broke in front of him, and he drove me to the hospital," you shrugged.

He let out a soft laugh looking down at the small infant.

"Can I hold her?" he whispered.

"She's your daughter. You can hold her, just don't drop her, unlike the laptop we don't have warranty on our daughter," you frowned.

He rolled his eyes, "I'm not going to drop her."

He leant over the basket picking up the infant, which seemed to never sleep. You told him how to hold her, and he did as he was told. As he held her, his smile was growing.

"Have you named her?" he whispered.

"No, I thought I'd wait for you to come home before I named her. But I know a redhead that would be very happy with one certain name," you smiled.

"So Natasha?" he asked, "I like it. Our little Natasha."

He didn't look up from his daughters face. His smile was a permanent expression on his face as he looked at her.

"She's already got you wrapped around your little finger," you smiled.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You can't take your eyes off of her. Wait until she can move around, you're going to go through hell," you chuckled.

"She's just so cute, she looks so much like you," he whispered.

"So I look like a grumpy old bald man?" you frowned.

"Don't say our daughter looks like a grumpy old bald man," he stated.

You laughed softly looking at your daughter. You loved her dearly but what you'd said was true.

"She is going to be a Daddy's girl, this is the calmest she's been all week," you explained.

"She'll love you too," he stated, "just not as much. You aren't a superhero, I'm a lot cooler."

You playfully prodded his arm.

"It's not a competition Clint," you frowned, "anyway if it was a competition I'd win, I carried her for nine months we've bonded."

~*~

Written by Charlotte.