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swan-of-sunrise · 1 month

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Hawkeye (Part I)

Summary: Six days before Christmas, a four-month pregnant (Y/N) accompanies Sam and Bucky to a performance of Rogers: The Musical while Steve and Carina stay home, and any hope of a quiet Christmas for the growing Rogers-(Y/L/N) family is dashed when the married couple catches a shocking news report that threatens to expose their friend as the world’s most prolific vigilante.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi there and welcome to the 4-part series centering around Hawkeye and the Christmas of 2024! This is such an underrated and underappreciated show, and I always knew that I wanted to write (Y/N), Steve and their growing family into it (and give a little extra love to Clint, ‘cause he deserves it!). This’ll be very faithful to the show, but expect a few surprises along the way lol thank you for reading, and I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part I) December 19th, 2024 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Steve Rogers, Brooklyn (Previous One-Shot)

With Christmas only a week away, the Rogers-(Y/L/N) house was filled to the brim with festive cheer. Their beautifully adorned tree stood tall in the living room beside their grand piano and throughout the rest of the house, they’d set out their plethora of holiday decorations; thanks to Steve’s growing proficiency at baking, the air was laced with the mouthwatering aroma of peppermint, gingerbread and vanilla. The only thing that could improve their cheerful home was the laughter of close friends inspired by the greatly anticipated opening of Broadway’s newest hit show, Rogers: The Musical.

“I’m tellin’ you, Steve, you missed out on one hell of a show!” Sam twisted the cap off his beer and smirked as he took a long sip. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but watchin’ these two trying their damndest to keep their cool was way more entertaining than watchin’ Nick Fury sing.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at her best friend’s exaggeration, taking off her jewelry piece by piece and looking through the living room mirror that she was stood before at her highly-amused husband seated behind her. “Don’t listen to Birdbrain, sweetheart, he’s embellishing the truth yet again; as long as you ignore all the blatant historical inaccuracies, it’s a perfectly enjoyable musical.”

“That’s easy for you to say, doll, they didn’t have you doin’ a corny tap dance number to somehow symbolize the hell of war,” Bucky grumbled under his breath, still miffed by his out-of-character portrayal in the musical and Sam’s overly-enthusiastic reaction whenever ‘Sergeant Bucky Barnes’ had appeared onstage to sing or dance. “Trust me, buddy, you saved yourself a whole heap of annoyance and justifiable indignation by staying home.”

“Well, I figured that my brief brush with showbiz back in ’43 was plenty enough for one lifetime,” Steve replied with a grin, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he got up from the couch and crossed the living room to help (Y/N) undo the clasp of her necklace. “Even one as long as mine. But hey, I had a stack of unfinished sketches and my little angel to keep me company here at home, and I didn’t have to watch the guy playing me sing a power ballad to a giant poster of Uncle Sam.”

When the necklace’s chain loosened, (Y/N) turned around and pressed her lips against her husband’s in a brief but sweet kiss of thanks. “I should count myself lucky; the rest of the world has to buy a ticket to a hit Broadway show to hear Steve Rogers belt out a power ballad, but all I have to do is listen in on him whenever he takes a shower.”

Sam and Bucky laughed at that and after a chuckling Steve retaliated by tickling the sensitive skin of her neck and stealing another kiss from her, (Y/N) headed upstairs to change out of her black cocktail dress and into her pajamas. She breathed a sigh of relief when she kicked off her black kitten heels and after peeling off her dress, she hung it over the back of her vanity’s chair and smoothed a hand over the satin slip that covered the slight swell of her four-month-pregnant belly. “Thanks for being so cooperative in there tonight, gumball. I had a really fun time with your Uncle Sam and your Uncle Bucky.”

Unfortunately, (Y/N)’s second pregnancy was almost the polar opposite of her first; where she hadn’t begun to show until her second trimester and she never once experienced morning sickness, she was already transitioning into maternity wear and she’d been plagued with intense nausea for over a month straight that was only just beginning to ease up. Their night on the town served as both an enjoyable evening with friends at a so-bad-it’s-good musical adaptation of her husband’s life, and a test to see how well she’d do during her latest book promotion tour in January.

It seemed as though she’d be able to physically handle all the interviews, press conferences and book signing, but she was still working on preparing herself mentally to discuss the chapter of her life that had brought her the greatest joys and largest despairs. While Assemble: The Unabridged History of the Avengers was the definitive chronicle of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, it wasn’t quite as unabridged as one would expect; the remaining Avengers had agreed on what details should be kept from the public – namely, their utilization of Pym Particles to achieve time travel, the entirety of the time heist and Clint’s five-year-long stint as the vengeful Ronin – so not only would she be tasked with discussing the deaths of her friends and allies, she’d also have to carefully work to keep those certain details a secret. Not an easy feat when you’re already experiencing pregnancy brain, she thought to herself with an inward sigh, slipping into her satin nightgown and tugging her robe on as she crept across the hall into Carina’s dimly-lit nursery.

Predictably, her fifteen-month old daughter was fast asleep in her crib, curled up under her colorful Wakandan-made blanket and clutching her stuffed white wolf; Indy, their senior German Shepard rescue, was nestled in his dog bed at the foot of the crib and when (Y/N) quietly entered, his head snapped up at attention but he immediately relaxed when she scratched behind his ears and the thick fur of his neck. Once their protective family dog was placated with scratches, she leaned over the crib and took a moment to observe her peaceful daughter; as energetic as the half super-soldier was throughout the day, she absolutely loved to sleep and hardly ever complained when they put her down for her two daily naps. Greg and Mara warned her that her daughter’s mild-mannered attitude could always fade away once she entered her ‘Terrible Two’s,’ but (Y/N) had a gut-feeling that Carina’s early adventures through space and all the battles against un-dead Asgardians and Thanos’ bloodthirsty army that she’d been present for gave her a resilience that most grown adults would never come to possess.

“Sweet dreams, my little lemon drop,” (Y/N) murmured, her fingers gently brushing her (Y/H/C) locks out of her face before she leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss onto her forehead. “I love you.”

After tucking the blanket around her daughter’s sleeping form, (Y/N) gave her one last smile and turned away from her crib, unsurprised to see Steve leaning against the nursery’s door frame with a content smile playing on his lips. “Sam and Buck already turned in for the night, so I thought I’d check in and see how my three lovely ladies were doing.”

“Two, sweetheart; you know as well as I do that we haven’t found out the sex of the baby yet.” She quietly closed the nursery door and looked at her husband with playful suspicion as they strolled hand-in-hand into their bedroom. “Unless you called up Dr. Prince behind my back.”

“Nope, just some good old-fashioned fatherly intuition.” Steve chuckled, bending down to press a kiss onto her small bump before they went about getting ready for bed, with him changing into his pajamas while she removed her makeup and applied her nighttime skincare in their room’s adjoining bathroom. “The guys mentioned that Barton and his kids were there, too.”

(Y/N)’s fingers momentarily stopped massaging moisturizer into the skin of her face as she recalled the grief etched into the archer’s face when Natasha’s character first twirled onto the stage. “Yeah, they were kicking off their Barton Family Christmas with a little trip to the city to see the show. They left about halfway through; Clint texted me later saying that it was because the kids were a little restless and they wanted to go out for Chinese food before it got too late, but…but I think it had something to do with Nat.”

Steve sighed but remained silent; when (Y/N) finished her nighttime routine and walked back into the bedroom, he was already sitting on his side of the bed with a downcast expression on his face. “He still blames himself for what happened on Vormir.”

“I think so, but I also think he knows that nothing he could’ve done would’ve stopped Nat from making that call…” With a sad sort of smile, she slipped out of her robe and climbed into bed beside her husband, adjusting the comforter over their laps and meeting his saddened azure eyes. “Most of all, I think he just misses her.” And I know exactly how he feels, she thought to herself as her throat burned and she tried her hardest not to imagine the faces of those she still grieved over.

Not a day went by when (Y/N) didn’t think about all the friends they’d lost over the past several years: Tony, Natasha, Vision, Loki and most recently, T’Challa; just as suddenly as they’d lost their four friends and teammates in the battle against Thanos, the King of Wakanda had passed away after a private battle with illness over two months ago. It seemed that with each blessing that appeared in their life, there was an equally devastating blow waiting just around the corner for them and as each one was dealt, (Y/N) started to truly comprehend the all-consuming grief that had followed Clint like a shadow since Thanos’ Snap in 2018.

Being with Steve and Carina and knowing that there was a new baby on the way certainly helped, as did sharing memories of those they’d lost with her husband and their two best friends and focusing her attention on her upcoming book tour. Steve, understanding all too well the emotions that were brewing within her, brought a hand up to cradle her cheek and drew his thumb across her cheekbone as his eyes softened with empathy. “When Cari dumped her entire bowl of spaghetti onto her head the other night and we had to give her an emergency bath, one of the first things that went through my mind was that Nat would get a kick out of hearing that story. It took me a second to remember that she…” Steve’s voice cracked and he swallowed thickly before continuing. “I’ve fought gods and monsters, I’ve traveled through space and time and I’ve lived long enough to believe that in this universe, anything is possible. She knows, sunshine…they all do.”

With tears in her eyes, (Y/N) let out a watery laugh and accepted the tissue that he offered her. “You sure you’re not the New York Times best-selling author in this family?”

“Nah, it’s just easier to land an emotional speech when your wife’s hormones are constantly being thrown for a loop by a four month old fetus,” Steve replied with a lopsided grin while she shook her head in playful exasperation and dabbed at her tear-filled eyes. “We should probably get some sleep; Sam and Buck have an early flight to New Orleans tomorrow, and we’ve still gotta take Cari to the mall for her picture with Santa.”

(Y/N), recalling her best friend Greg and his wife Mara’s many horror stories of taking their little Abbie to see Santa, bit her lip and replied, “Our daughter spent the first month of her life surrounded by Sakaarians, un-dead Asgardians and Chitauri soldiers, so I’m sure that a picture with a complete stranger dressed as Santa Claus’ll be a piece of cake.”

“Of course…” The longer her husband thought it over, though, the more hesitant he appeared. “But maybe we should pack her stuffed wolf just in case-?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Ever the true gentleman, Steve discarded her tissue for her and switched off their bedside lamp before burrowing under the bedcovers beside her, leaning over to brush his lips against her brow while she slipped her arm over his torso. “I also have to text Scott; when we were finishing up my interview for his book last week, he made me promise to give him a review of the musical. I think he wants to take Hope and Cassie when the touring company comes to San Francisco in the spring.”

Steve chuckled and carefully wound his arm around her to hold her closer. “He’ll be happy to know that they decided to add him to the Battle of New York. Speaking as one of the six people who was there, though, I’m not too sure what the presence of Ant-Man’s meant to add to one of Earth’s first alien invasions.”

“That’s the beauty of historical fiction: you can play fast and loose with dates, times and events for the sake of dramatic purposes while still portraying a person’s real-life story. In this case, adding one of the most popular Avengers to one of the most famous Avengers battles doesn’t change the fact that you – the main character – really were there.” (Y/N)’s eyes drifted closed and she could feel her body relaxing against Steve’s as sleep began to take hold. “With that being said, I just know he’s never ever gonna stop talking about it…”

Their tired laughs were suddenly interrupted by a sharp rap on their closed bedroom door and before either of them could say anything, the door opened and the light flickered on to reveal Sam and Bucky entering their room with matching frowns on their faces. “Sorry for barging in, guys, but you’re gonna wanna see this.” While Sam crossed over to retrieve the television remote from (Y/N)’s nightstand, she and Steve exchanged a look of confusion as they sat up and Bucky sat himself down on the edge of their bed as Sam switched their television on to NY1.

“…following a breaking news story, a high society gala rocked by an explosion when it went off at Park Avenue and 68th Street tonight. The cause of the explosion is still under investigation, but witnesses captured cell phone footage of a masked assailant fleeing the scene.” The news anchor’s face was replaced with an unsteady video of a bustling 68th Street; a masked figure dressed from head to toe in black vaulted over a speeding car and scooped a matted Golden Retriever up into their arms, both sliding out of the busy traffic just in the nick of time. The amateur footage paused on a close-up of the masked figure, and (Y/N)’s heart leapt into her throat when she recognized the imposing black and gold leather suit. “Authorities believe the assailant could be-”

“The Ronin,” (Y/N) breathed, and the implications of the infamous suit’s reappearance were not lost on her or the other three men in the room.

“-Who once terrorized organized crime here in New York and around the world for five brutal years. This is the first potential sighting of the Ronin in years, and his identity continues to remain a mystery to this day. We will continue to follow this breaking news story and report on any developments as they come in-”

Sam muted the television and turned to face them with a troubled expression written across his face. “That sure as hell wasn’t Barton in that video.”

“Which means one of two possibilities: either somebody with a sick sense of humor’s running around New York in a handmade Ronin suit and playing out their little fantasy of being a vigilante…” The fingers of Bucky’s vibranium hand traced along the raised lettering of his old dog tags as his brows furrowed, his earlier pleasant mood long gone and replaced with a dark trepidation. “Or someone found the real suit in the wreckage of the Avengers Facility.”

His features drawn with a solemnity reminiscent of his days as Captain America, Steve carded his hand through his rumpled blonde hair and stared at the muted footage of the imposter. “Either way, Barton and his kids are in danger; if they manage to find out the Ronin’s true identity, then every single member of the city’s criminal underworld is gonna go after him for revenge.”

(Y/N) let out a weary sigh and reached for her cell phone that was charging on her nightstand. “So much for that Barton Family Christmas…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: And there you have it! How do you think the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family will fit into this show? What're the surprises that are gonna pop up? I guess you'll have to tune in for the rest of the chapters to find out! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

Hawkeye (Part II)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345@crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell @y-napotat @mary1raven @groovyqueer @ljej95 @innersublimefury @prettysbliss

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swan-of-sunrise · 1 month

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Hawkeye (Part II)

Summary: Clint reaches out to (Y/N) for help and after a visit with the physically and mentally taxed archer, she takes it upon herself to meet Hawkeye’s #1 fan and impart a little wisdom onto Clint’s young partner.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: This week's chapter is a little longer because (a) I'm not sure I'll have Part III finished by next Thursday and (b) You guys deserve it!! There's a surprise character that'll pop up in the second half of this chapter and if you've seen Spider-Man: No Way Home, then I think you'll know who it is lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part II) December 21st, 2024 Apartment of Moira Brandon, East Village (Previous Chapter)

Out of all the Avengers she’d been introduced to during that fateful party at the Avengers Tower so many years ago, (Y/N) always had a secret soft spot for Clint Barton; he was equal parts kind and sarcastic, quickly noting the anxiety she’d been desperately trying to mask from the moment she arrived and taking the time to get to know her while simultaneously directing playful jabs at his fellow teammates. Their first meeting and team-up in the subsequent conflict with Ultron coupled with Natasha’s endless stories from their days of working together at S.H.I.E.L.D. cemented (Y/N)’s unbreakable trust in the archer, and it was that trust that led her to an average-looking East Village apartment building only four days before Christmas with a priceless and top-secret piece of S.W.O.R.D. technology tucked away in her messenger bag.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice, (Y/L/N),” Clint smiled as he ushered her into the temporary safe house, checking up and down the hall before locking the door and leading her into the cozy living room. “See any of those idiot Tracksuits tailing you?”

(Y/N) shrugged her winter coat off and draped it over the back of the couch with a humorless chuckle. “Nope, but I almost wish I had; I could’ve used a good laugh or two after that horrendous traffic jam on the Brooklyn Bridge.” She folded her pink scarf in half and tossed it on top of her coat, meeting Clint’s eyes with a sardonic smirk beginning to spread across her face. “Wouldn’t you know, some dumb-ass archer decided to impale a Pym Particle-infused arrow into the Manhattan Bridge and create commute hell for anyone traveling in or out of Brooklyn?”

Rolling his eyes, Clint flopped down onto the well-worn couch and sighed in exasperation; he looked exhausted, with darkened circles under his eyes and a noticeable cut on his forehead. “Still a smart-ass, I see. For your information, I shot a Pym Particle-infused arrow at a regular arrow and then it impaled itself into the bridge.”

“Well, either way, I thought you’d like to know that Scott got his ass chewed out by Hank for that little stunt,” She replied in amusement and sat herself down on the couch beside him, taking a moment to adjust her sweater over her small baby bump before rummaging through her messenger bag. “Apparently, Hank’s not too fond of his life’s work being used for – and I quote – ‘stupid shit you see on the eleven o’clock news.’”

The archer scoffed at that. “I once saw the guy use Pym Particles to enlarge a goddamn chicken sandwich, but whatever.”

(Y/N) laughed as she withdrew a small metal case and handed it over to Clint. “Back-up hearing aid, as requested; my coworker said that this is one of the best on the market, so you should be well-covered if yours ends up breaking again.” He nodded in thanks and slipped the case into his pocket. Her former teammate’s recent hearing loss as a result of years of work as a S.H.I.E.L.D. spy, Avenger and vigilante inspired her to seek out Brooklyn College’s underfunded but resilient disability resource center; she studied ASL and learned enough to not only begin teaching Steve and Carina, but to also pre-film her lectures for any hard of hearing student who decided to enroll in her Introduction to American Popular Culture course. “And I looked into that socialite guy for you…” Activating the transparent S.W.O.R.D. tablet – a parting gift from Nick Fury before he traveled up to the organization’s newly-built space station – (Y/N) allowed it to scan her handprint and read off the information she’d collected. “Jack Duquesne, born into the obscenely-wealthy Duquesne family that’s apparently descended from European aristocracy. Since he’s seemingly never worked a day in his life, he’s had enough free time to become an expert swordsman and accrue a pretty impressive sword collection; is that what he was doing at that black market auction the other night?”

Clint nodded as he studied the images on the tablet’s screen. “He wanted to add the Ronin’s sword to his collection; according to Kate, he ran off with it after the Tracksuits crashed the auction, and then he almost took my head off with it when we broke into her mom’s penthouse this morning.” When (Y/N) thoughtfully tilted her head to the side, his frown deepened. “What?”

“When I did a little more digging, I found out that Duquesne is listed as the CEO of Sloan Limited. It’s a shell company, one that launders money for none other than-”

“The Tracksuit Mafia…” The archer exhaled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Kate thinks that Jack Duquesne killed his uncle Armand. At first, I thought the idea of him becoming her stepfather someday was clouding her judgement but it’s looking like her instincts might’ve been right.”

Taking note of the stiffness in his movements and the weary tone of his voice, (Y/N) tucked the tablet back into her messenger bag as she gave him a sympathetic smile. “None of what I found out really helped you, did it?”

“It helped, (Y/L/N), it really did…” Clint hastily reassured her. “But I’m no closer to being able to go home for Christmas. I’ve got the suit and the sword, but Maya Lopez and the Tracksuits still have me and Kate connected to the Ronin and there’s a good chance that they’ve got Laura’s Rolex; I can’t leave until I track it down and figure out a way to stop the Tracksuits from targeting Kate, and I’ve gotta do all that before Kingpin gets involved.” He sat back and offered her a small smile. “The Barton Family Christmas hit a little speed-bump, as you can tell, so how’s the Rogers-(Y/L/N) Family Christmas going so far?”

“Well, Carina helped us decorate cookies and gingerbread houses for the vets down at the VA hospital yesterday, and then she decided that our living room wall could use a thick coat of frosting as well.” Clint burst into laughter and (Y/N) couldn’t help but join him. “Steve’s convinced that she’s got the makings of an artist, but I just think she likes to keep us on our toes. And this little gumball…” Beaming, she rubbed a hand across her bump. “Moved for the first time this morning.”

“That’s amazing! Boy or girl?”

“We don’t know yet, but we’re gonna open the envelope my doctor sealed for us together on Christmas Day and find out.” Memories of her first pregnancy and the overwhelming loneliness she struggled with unwittingly came to the forefront of her mind, but she forced herself to ignore them as she continued. “I’ve never really been one for big gender reveals, but after Carina’s…shall we say, unconventional birth and everything we’ve been through since, I just wanted this pregnancy to be special for us.”

A look of understanding crossed Clint’s bruised face, as he was one of the few Avengers who could empathize with desiring balance between a normal family life and the superhero life they’d been thrust into, but he merely smirked and jokingly replied, “Well, if you’re still thinking of baby names, I’ve always thought that Clint Rogers-(Y/L/N) had a nice ring to it.”

(Y/N) snorted in amusement. “Oh, really? You know, I’ve heard the same exact thing about Sam Rogers-(Y/L/N), James Bucky Rogers-(Y/L/N), Bruce Rogers-(Y/L/N), Thor Rogers-(Y/L/N), Korg Rogers-(Y/L/N) and Rocket Rogers-(Y/L/N).”

“I’m not usually one to judge, but I’ll totally judge you if you name your kid after a talking raccoon or a big pile of rocks.” When his chuckles died down, the archer’s blue-grey eyes softened as they looked between her face and the bump she was unconsciously cradling. “I’m really happy for you guys, and I know…I know that Nat and Tony would be, too.”

After flashing him a thankful smile, (Y/N) leaned her elbow on the back of the couch and rested her temple against the palm of her hand. “So, what’s this Kate Bishop like?”

“A pain in my ass,” Clint bluntly replied and when she lightly scoffed at his answer, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m serious! That kid’s cocky, reckless and she talks way too much…but I can’t deny that she’s a damn good archer and her instincts are sharp.” His brow arched as a thoughtful expression crossed his injured features. “You know, she reminds me a little of you, actually; she put that suit on to protect innocent people from the Tracksuits without a single thought for her own safety, just like how you volunteered to help an Air Force vet and a couple of wanted Avengers save the world from Hydra without a single thought for your own safety.”

(Y/N), detecting a hint of concern in her friend’s tone of voice, nodded in understanding. “You’re worried about her.”

Clint nodded. “Damn right I am. You were twenty-seven when you helped Steve, Nat and Sam stop Project Insight, and Kate’s only twenty-two; you understood the risks of getting involved in this sort of life, but Kate…she’s got blinders on. I tried to make her understand that I’m not a role model, that I’m not someone that people should look up to and that this life I’ve led for the past twenty years isn’t a game but like I already told you, she’s cocky and reckless.”

“She doesn’t know about the Ronin, does she?” When Clint shook his head, (Y/N) bit her lip and carefully contemplated her next words before speaking. “Maybe the reason you can’t get through to her is because you haven’t shown her the real you and she can sense that you’re hiding something from her; if you open up to her now, then you might be able to stop her from getting too deep into all this.” He shrugged his shoulder, but she could see that she hadn’t convinced him to confide in his reluctant partner; she glanced down at her wristwatch and hummed to herself. “Well, I should probably head out now if I want to beat the commute traffic to Brooklyn…”

“Yeah, and I should give Laura and the kids a call before I pass out from exhaustion.” Clint helped her to her feet and gave her a fond smile as she pulled her coat and scarf back on. “It’s been good seeing you, (Y/L/N), and I really appreciate your help. Tell Steve that I said hi and that he should totally name his second-born after one of his oldest and coolest friends, okay?”

“Sure thing, Hawkeye,” (Y/N) chuckled, slinging the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulder as they walked over to the apartment’s front door and giving her friend a hug, careful of his bruised and battle-worn limbs as she did. “Good luck, Clint. You’re going to fix this and you’re going to make it home for your Barton Family Christmas and on Christmas Day, we’ll give you guys a call to let you know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” With a smile and a teasing salute, Clint opened the door and watched her head towards the building’s elevator before retreating into the temporary safe house.

(Y/N) stepped into the elevator and after the door slid closed, the uneasy feeling that had begun to form when the topic of Kate Bishop came up only seemed to deepen as the elevator descended. It was foolish to further embroil herself in Clint’s struggle against the Tracksuits; not only was she entering her pregnancy’s second trimester but if a powerful man like Kingpin caught wind that she was involved, it could put Steve’s secret life in jeopardy and their family’s safety at risk. But it was Clint’s comparison of Kate to (Y/N) that compelled her to pull the S.W.O.R.D. tablet out of her messenger bag and research the young archer’s cell phone number.

“I sure hope that I’m doing the right thing, Nat,” She murmured under her breath as she worked. “For Kate and for Clint’s sakes…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, (Y/N) was seated at one of the rickety metal tables outside Greenwich Village’s own Joe’s Pizza, patiently waiting for the twenty-two-year-old to work through her star-struck awe while she enjoyed a slice of pizza and scratched the young archer’s rescue Golden Retriever behind his ear.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I’ve met two Avengers in less than a week! Is this, like, some sort of a superhero test? Or a trial period or somethin’? I mean, I’ve only been in four-ish fights so far…or wait, was it five? I don’t know, I can’t really remember ‘cause I’m pretty much running on caffeine and adrenaline at this point,” Kate nervously chuckled, a little out of breath as she finally stopped rambling and attempted to rearrange her excited features into a nonchalant smile. “…So, um, what can I do for you, Ms. (Y/L/N)?”

“Please, just call me (Y/N).” Smiling, (Y/N) took another bite of her pizza slice and used it to point at Kate. “I’ve heard a lot about you from our mutual friend, so I wanted to meet you for myself.”

The young archer’s brows raised almost comically. “R-Really? Wow, that’s really…was it all good things you heard?”

“Mm-hmm, and I also saw the video of you rescuing this good boy on the news.” The one-eyed Golden Retriever nuzzled his face against her lap and perked up when she tore her slice of pizza in half, wolfing it down in record time once she offered it to him. “He’s lucky that someone as skilled as you came along when you did.” After watching the dog enjoy his chunk of pizza, she looked back up at Kate and sobered as her eyes fixated on the steri-strips that closed the lacerations that were scattered across her youthful face. “Actually, I asked you to meet me here because I wanted to talk to you about this case you’re working with Clint.”

Kate slumped in her seat, a dejected frown beginning to form on her injured face while she took a halfhearted bite of her pepperoni pizza slice. “You think I should stay home and let Clint handle it, don’t you? That’s what my mom thinks, too; she didn’t say anything about it to me, but I know she thinks I’m crazy for doing this. I mean, I’m just a civilian and Clint’s a freaking Avenger, so I guess I see why it’s nuts that I’m helping him out, but I…I can’t just sit back when I know that I can help.”

Smiling a little to herself, (Y/N) dabbed at her lips with a napkin and shook her head. “Kate, I’m the last person on the planet who’d ever tell you to stay home and ignore the instinct to help. I was just a civilian when I helped Steve, Nat and Sam take down Hydra – an unpublished historical-fiction novelist with a part-time job at the V.A., who just so happened to be one of only two people in D.C. that a couple of wanted Avengers could trust. They tried their hardest to make me stay home and out of danger but I refused, because I knew that I could help them. I had to help, no matter what, and nothing they’d say could change my mind.”

“So, you understand why I’m still helping Clint?” The young archer’s expression brightened and she sat up in her seat. “That’s great!” When (Y/N) didn’t immediately answer, her head tilted to the side in confusion. “…Isn’t it?”

“You and I are a lot alike and because I see so much of myself in you, I wanted to tell you what I wish someone had told me ten years ago, when I took my first steps into the life of an Avenger.” (Y/N)’s fingers caressed the content Golden Retriever’s fur, taking small comfort in his calming presence as she continued. “When you choose to spend your life trying to help people, there’s going to be consequences you’ll have to face. Some of the consequences won’t come as a surprise – the fights and battles have taken a physical and mental toll on me, for example, and I’ll have to live with their effects on my body and on my mind for the rest of my life – but others will. From the moment it began, my entire career’s been called into question; you see, people assume that my success is due to my long-time association with the Avengers and not the writing skills I’ve worked my ass off developing and perfecting. I lost any chance at anonymity or a private life when I announced my engagement to Steve Rogers. I became estranged from my family, because they didn’t approve of my relationship or my association with the Avengers. I went through the joy of befriending some of the kindest and most misunderstood people in the world, and then I was forced to mourn them in a way that no one but my fellow Avengers could ever understand; the world lost Iron Man, Black Widow, Black Panther and the Vision, but I lost Tony, Nat, T’Challa and Vis.”

Kate bowed her head and stared down at the discarded pizza crust on her plate. “And you lost Steve, too.”

(Y/N) nodded mutely, careful to keep up the ruse that Steve Rogers died in the Battle of Earth and wasn’t currently wrapping Christmas gifts with their fifteen-month old daughter in their Brooklyn home. “When you face the threats that Clint and I have faced, you have to accept that there’s going to be things that you lose along the way. I don’t tell you any of this to dissuade you, Kate, far from it; I’ve always believed that if you feel that you can help, then it’s your moral obligation to do so.” She reached across the table and rested a comforting hand atop Kate’s, giving her a small smile when her eyes finally met hers. “But it’s important that you know that this life isn’t easy, and it’s only fair that you hear it from one of the only Avengers who stumbled into this life the way you have. Do you understand?”

Kate nodded, and the brief silence that filled the air as (Y/N) finished her slice of pizza was broken by a timid question. “Do you know who the Ronin is?”

“…I know who they used to be,” (Y/N) carefully replied. “But if you want to know more about the Ronin, then you’ll have to ask Clint.”

“Urgh, I knew you’d say something cryptic like that. Hey, what’re Clint’s favorite Christmas movies and does he have any strong opinions about ugly Christmas sweaters?”

After (Y/N) helped Kate plan out the perfect mini-Christmas party for a homesick Clint, she bid the young archer and her energetic Golden Retriever goodbye and watched them both stroll down the sidewalk with a fond smile on her face. It was clear to her that Kate’s heart was in the right place, and that perhaps she was the perfect person to help Clint move on from the Ronin as well as resolve the ongoing conflict with the Tracksuits. I just hope they’ll both stay safe, she thought as she anxiously bit her lower lip and stroked her small baby bump, her mind preoccupied with a myriad of the worst possible outcomes to the archers’ partnership.

“Here you go, Ms. (Y/L/N): one large chicken and olive pizza to go,” The young worker’s sudden appearance shook (Y/N) out of her heavy thoughts and after setting the pizza box down, he started to bus the table with a small smile on his face. “Need any packets of Parmesan cheese or red pepper flakes?”

“No, thank you, I-” (Y/N) cut herself off when her eyes caught sight of a familiar well-worn paperback sticking out of the teenager’s back pocket and she felt herself begin to grin. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a copy of For Queen and Country with its original cover art. How’re you enjoying it?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “It’s one of my favorite books!” The young worker’s gaze briefly met hers as a light blush dusted his cheeks; there was a brief flash of grief in his brown eyes – a deep sort of grief that looked entirely out of place in the eyes of a teenager – but it soon vanished when a bashful expression graced his features. “I’ve been a fan for a pretty long time, Ms. (Y/L/N), and I was actually workin’ up the courage to come out here and ask you for your autograph. I don’t wanna bug you or overstep-”

“Of course I’ll autograph your copy!” (Y/N)’s smile widened as he stammered out a brief thanks and scrambled to hand her the paperback and his server’s pen. “Who should I make it out to?”

“Peter, Peter Parker.” Again, (Y/N) was struck by the strange emotion that flashed across his face, but what gave her pause was the sudden familiarity that his name brought her; she couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about the teenager’s name tugged at the far reaches of her mind. Doing her best to shrug the unsettled feeling off, she jotted down a brief greeting and signed her name before blowing on the drying ink and handing the book and pen back with a smile. “Thanks a lot, Ms. (Y/L/N)! It was good seein’ you agai-um, sorry, I think my manager’s callin’ me, happy holidays!”

Peter Parker, who’d abruptly turned as white as a sheet, shoved his book and pen into his pocket and scooped up the dirty dishes before practically sprinting back inside. (Y/N)’s brow arched at his odd shift in behavior, but gathered up her pizza box and strode down the sidewalk to where she’d been lucky enough to park her yellow Volkswagen Bug. After securing the pizza in the car’s front trunk (or ‘frunk,’ as Sam liked to jokingly call it), she carefully climbed into the driver’s seat and waited a moment for the baby to settle down before dialing Steve’s cell phone number.

“Hey, sunshine! How was your visit with Clint?”

“Productive, for the most part; he has an idea of who the middle-man between Kingpin and the Tracksuits is, but he’s still not sure how to stop them from targeting him and his new friend Kate or uncovering Laura’s past. I also had a quick chat with Kate over lunch, which is why I’m bringing home a chicken and olive pizza from Joe’s; you should also know that your offspring conned me into buying it.”

Steve chuckled. “Oh, they did, huh?”

“Mm-hmm, and you should count yourself lucky that it was only pizza; at four months pregnant with Cari, I was craving Flamin’ Hot Cheetos dipped in vanilla ice cream,” (Y/N) snickered as her husband made a sound of disgust on the other end of the call. “Oh, and the strangest thing happened as I was leaving! Do we know a Peter Parker from anywhere?”

“…I don’t think so, but the name sounds awfully familiar.”

“Right? There’s something strange about it but I can’t put my finger on-” A recognizable babbling in the background of the call caused her to stifle a giggle. “Someone’s feeling chatty today, aren’t they?”

“I think that last episode of Sesame Street might’ve riled her up a bit; you know how much she loves when the Count makes an appearance,” Her husband remarked before calling out, “Cari, did you wanna talk to Mama? Mama’s on the phone right now.”

The gibberish grew louder as the infant toddled over and happily exclaimed into the phone. “Mama!”

“Hi, lemon drop! I’ll be home really soon, okay? Mama loves you!” (Y/N) smiled to herself, listening to their daughter’s incoherent mumbling grow faint as Steve regained control of the cell phone. “I should be home in a half an hour or so, depending on how backed up the bridge is.”

“Fingers crossed that all the city’s archers decide to leave the Brooklyn Bridge un-impaled for the afternoon commute.” Steve joked. “You can tell me all about Clint and his new partner over pizza and my famous green smoothies. I love you, sunshine.”

She gave her phone an exaggerated air-kiss that made Steve huff out a quiet laugh. “I love you too, sweetheart, and I’ll see you soon.”

After hanging up the call and tucking her cell phone into her messenger bag, (Y/N) started the car’s engine and turned up the radio, the local station’s Christmas playlist already playing through the speakers. “Okay, gumball, your daddy promised to make us a smoothie, so let’s get this show on the road.”

Pulling away from the curb, (Y/N) hummed along to the upbeat Elton John track in the hopes that the music would distract from the unsettling feeling beginning to take form in the pit of her stomach, but the tune wasn’t enough to make her shake the suspicion that someone was watching her from afar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Who do you guys think was watching (Y/N)?? You'll have to stay tuned to find out! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

Hawkeye (Part III)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

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