AvengersxReader Inserts *Requests Open*

[Clint x Reader] Holiday Peeves

"From your attitude and the size of that drink I would say she turned you down, but I know that's impossible, so spill it Barton." His eyes moved to look at Natasha as she moved out of the shadows, but quickly turned back to the alcohol before him.

"I didn't ask her," he grumbled, downing half the glass and topping off again. 

"Slow down there, Romeo," she said, sliding next to him and stealing it to take a slow drink herself. "Why the cold feet?"

He ran his hands up over his forehead and through his hair with an aggravated noise. "Because, apparently, she hates the idea of getting engaged over the holidays."

"And where did you get that ridiculous idea?" she asked, holding the glass out of his reach when he grabbed for it. 

"Maybe from the fact that she called it 'overdone' and 'unoriginal,' not to mention stupid." He lunged again, this time successfully gaining back his drink and finishing it, but Natasha snatched the bottle away before he could pour himself a refill. "Come on, Nat. I think I've earned the right to a drink."

She shook her head as she got up, putting the bottle away and glaring down at him. "I swear, you're a bigger idiot than Stark sometimes."

Clint spread his hands to either side in offense. "What did I do?"

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Do you honestly believe that she would turn you down just because you proposed on New Year's?"

He shook his head heavily, frustrated that she couldn't see the precariousness of the situation. "I want it to be perfect. I can't chose a day that she would regret saying yes on."

Natasha drummed her fingers irritably, fed up with how thick men could be sometimes. "Clint, the very fact that you proposed to her would be what made it perfect. You do realize that almost all women complain about their friends getting engaged over the holidays?"

"What?" he spoke, his eyes narrowed with both disbelief and apprehension.

Natasha nodded like she was explaining something painfully obvious to a child. "It's like a tradition or something for single women. If anything she was subconsciously dropping hints for your fat skull," she said, slapping him across the side of the head for emphasis.

He rubbed the point of content with a pout, but was suddenly pulled up and dragged across the floor by Natasha.

"Nat, what are you doing?"

"It's not what I'm doing, Clint. It's what you're doing. You're going to quite moping, get your butt over there, and show her that pretty little ring," she spelled out for him, giving him a hefty shove towards the elevator. He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off, "And don't you make some excuse about it being New Year's because it's not." Her finger pointed up to the clock reading just after midnight as she strode out of the room.

He stared up at the time for several minutes. He guessed she was right. It technically wasn't New Year's anymore, so you couldn't get mad at him for that, but what if you had meant the holiday season in general? His stomach began to flip nervously. He desperately wanted to ask you, and he had already been waiting to do this for months, but if you said no that would be it. Even without the threat of the season he suddenly began to grow doubts. What if you liked where things were at between the two of you. What if you weren't ready and this scared you off? His hand slid instinctively to his pocket to clutch at the box, holding it in a vice grip. Once he asked you there was no going back. 

The sudden voice of a very loud, very angry Russian broke him out of his paranoia. "Clint! I swear if you don't get out of this tower I will shoot you!"