nestinghawk:

iamthefirechild:

nestinghawk:

“Thanks Jarvis.” The archer tells the AI, glad for the info but he still can’t squish all his worry.

Clint keeps dancing with you and twirls you occasionally. He concentrates on you again and hopes that he manages to ease up your worries. “How is this my lady?” He asks while dropping a kiss on top of your head.

“It’s perfect,” she assures him, and then spoils it by batting at him when he kisses the top of her head. “Hey! My mouth is down /here/. Dork.”

“Glad to hear it.” Clint grins at the batting. “I know but it would hardly be proper now would it my lady?” His grin’s quickly morphing to a teasing smirk.

“Proper,” she scoffs. “What part of this household is proper? Our lord and master is confronting an alien machine on the roof and we are dancing four floors down waiting to see what happens while another sentient machine watches over him. Oh, yes, and he keeps an otter as a pet!” She pokes Clint in the ribs. “My mouth is down here.” Insistently, she pulls his head down.

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