“Oh, come one, I’ve seen you stretch into more awkward positions than this. Suck it up, Romanoff,” Clint replied, managing to undo the last buckle so she could pull her foot free. “Whew!” he breathed out loudly before tossing the boot to the side, somewhere in the general area of where his sat. Dropping his head back to the pillow he loosened his hold on her but didn’t remove his arm completely, instead letting his hand rest on her shoulder.

The mention of him becoming domesticated caught him off guard and he gave the top of her head an odd look. He had never really thought about it, about ever having anything that even vaguely resembled a normal life. He wasn’t the ‘wife, kids, dog and white picket fence’ kind of guy, it just didn’t fit in with the danger and intrigue of his job, and he had been perfectly fine with that until Natasha had somehow managed to wriggle her way into his heart.

“Yeah, well...” he replied awkwardly. “I mean, I’d hate for you to do some real damage the next time they piss you off. Especially if that damage ends up being inflicted on me.”