Disclaimer: I own no rights to Avengers, Marvel or the Fifty Shades Trilogy. I'm simply writing this for my own amusement :)

Chapter One: Adjusting Family Life

November 2007…

Erik grinned as he entered his parents' bedroom. He quickly but quietly made his way over to his father's side. "Dada. Dad. Come on, you gotta get up," he whisper-shouted, poking Clint in the side. "Dad. Dad."

"Your son is awake," Natasha mumbled sleepily against her husband's chest.

"Before sunrise, he's your son," Clint replied, pushing his face further into Natasha's long red hair.

"Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad. Come on, Dad," Erik chanted but Clint showed no sign of stirring. So the three-year-old climbed on to the bed and jumped on his father, promptly waking him up. "You promised," Erik said, pouting at his father.

"Okay, okay, I'm up. I'm up," Clint replied, yawning and gently moving Natasha's head off his chest. The red-head sleepily cracked an eye open, smiling softly at her husband and oldest son before rolling back onto Clint's vacated spot.

"Yeah," Erik cheered, climbing off the bed and racing out of his parent's bedroom.

Clint leaned down and pressed a kiss to Natasha's forehead as she had a small lie in. The red-head had gotten in late from a two-week mission in London, having had to infiltrate and detain an Art Dealer who was smuggling guns into America. And, no surprise, the mission had been a success. In addition to that, Erik refused to go to bed until he got to see his Mama after he found out she was coming home. He had curled himself around her the minute she had entered the apartment, refusing to let her go…

"Mama!" Erik shouted, racing towards Natasha as she shut the apartment door behind her.

Natasha dropped her bag and caught Erik as he leaped up into her arms. She buried her face in her oldest son's neck, inhaling his scent. She missed her boys while she'd been working.

"I missed you, Mama," Erik mumbled, his voice tight and sad. He sounded like he was on the edge of crying. Natasha and Clint had done their best to prepare him for the times that they would be away but no preparation could stop their son from missing them. At every chance she got, the red-head had video-called Clint to talk with him and the boys. Artyom had been so surprised to see his mother on the laptop's screen, speaking to him, rather than in the same room as him. Erik had discussed everything he had done while she was working. And Clint… Clint told her how much he and their boys missed her while she was gone. And she knew from his appearance that he wasn't sleeping well either.

"Oh, Erik," Natasha whispered, pulling away so she could cup his face with one hand, using her thumb to brush away the few tears he let fall. "I missed you too, Мой Малютка," she whispered, pressing loving kisses all over his face. "I was counting down the days, hours, minutes and seconds until I could see you and Artyom and your Papa again. Oh, Мой Малютка, I missed you so much." She pulled him against her chest again, wrapping her arms around his small body.

Erik wrapped his small arms around his mother's neck, clinging to her as she walked into the living-room where Clint was feeding Artyom while Lucky lay in front of them, his head resting on his overlapped paws. Thankfully, Artyom was only waking once during the night, depending on the length of his naps during the day. Often, he would sleep through the night if he had long naps during the day. Natasha smiled at Clint as her husband made signs to Artyom; they had decided to teach their sons sign language in case Clint had problems with his hearing aids. Artyom was still too young to understand what they meant but Eva had informed them that starting with small signs at six-months was recommended worldwide.

Clint looked up and smiled at Natasha. He frowned slightly when he noticed Erik clinging to Natasha but his wife shook her head slightly; she'd tell him later.

Natasha walked over to her husband and kissed him gently in greeting, taking care not to disturb either of her sons. "Hi," she whispered against his lips.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Barton," he replied, reluctantly pulling away so she could sit down beside him. "You okay?"

Natasha looked down at Erik and Artyom before looking up at Clint. "Now that I'm home, yes," she whispered, smiling softly at him…

"Erik missed you terribly," he informed her later on when they alone were in their bedroom. Natasha was in the middle of pulling one of his T-shirts over her mostly naked body. His words made her pause to look over at her husband. He was sitting on their bed, dressed simply in a pair of pyjama bottoms, the scars littering his torso highlighted clearly by the light of the lamp on his nightstand. Biting her lip, she walked over to him and climbed into his lap, straddling his lap. She gently ran her fingers over his body, tracing each muscle, dimple and scar. Clint no longer even tensed slightly under her touch, to which she was grateful, so she loved to trace her fingers over his body every chance she got.

Clint ran her hands down Natasha's arms, watching her face as she moved her hands over his scarred body.

"I missed him too. And Artyom. And Lucky. And you," she whispered, leaning forward and pecking his lips softly. She slowly brought her hands up to cup his face while he brought his hands to her hips. He slid his tongue over her cupid bow lips, smiling softly against her mouth as they kissed slowly. He gently pulled her body closer to his, wanting nothing more than to keep her close to him.

Natasha sighed into the kiss, content to let her husband have his way with her in whatever way he wanted. She had missed him, missed his presence. It didn't mean she needed him holding her hand while she worked, or anything like that, but she did miss him simply for his presence as her husband and constant.

Clint broke the kiss to trail his lips over her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I missed you too, Tasha," he mumbled against her skin huskily. He'd missed holding her at night, missed the two of them spending time with the boys and Lucky. But he knew that this was the life they had. That their ledgers both needed to be cleaned before they could even think about leaving S.H.I.E.L.D.'s grasp. At least, for now they couldn't.

Slowly, Clint brought his hands down to the hem of her sleeping shirt. Pulling away, he looked up at her, finding her watching him with a knowing look. He smiled up at her sheepishly.

"You didn't sleep while I was gone, did you?" she whispered, letting him strip her shirt off.

Clint shook his head, not wanting to talk about his nightmares. Natasha was home now. Safe and sound. Their boys were safe. That's all that mattered to him. He brought his lips back to hers, his hands sliding up her body.

But Natasha knew what he was trying to do. She gently placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled away from his lips. He made a noise of disagreement but didn't push her.

"Clint. What were your nightmares about?" she asked, cupping his jaw with her left hand. She watched him as he bit his bottom lip.

"Erik and Artyom are the same age Barney and I were when my father started beating the shit out of my mom and Barney. I was around a year-old before he started hurting me," he whispered, his eyes sliding closed at the painful memories. "I don't want to hurt you or our boys."

Natasha brought her arms around Clint's neck, pulling him close. He buried his face in her neck, breathing her scent deeply to calm himself. She stroked her fingers through his hair, pressing her lips against his temple lovingly. "You are not your father, Clint. You love our boys. You love me. Do you think for one moment that I'd let you be a bad father or a bad husband?"

Clint shook his head, tightening his arms around her.

"Exactly, I wouldn't. Now," she started, pulling away slightly to smirk at him, "Will you finish showing me how much you missed me?"

Clint grinned. He leaned up and kissed the corner of her mouth. "Mrs. Barton, you have no idea how much I missed you," he whispered huskily.

Natasha smirked and leaned down so her lips brushed the shell of his ear. "Then show me… Sir," she purred in his ear. She nipped on his earlobe teasingly, making her husband growl at her.

He brought his hands to her panties, pulling the fabric until it was taunt before tearing it off her body. She pulled back and raised an eyebrow at him, a silent question in her already lust-filled eyes. "I'll buy you more," he answered with a grin and a shrug. He brushed his lips over hers, "Whatever ones you want."

"Just so you can tear them off of me," she replied, smirking at him knowingly.

"You know me so well," he whispered, claiming her lips hungrily with a grin.

Natasha moaned into the kiss, her hands gripping his hair firmly. Clint dragged his hands up and down her body before bringing one to cup her breast. He grinned against her lips as her breath hitched in her throat. "You're wearing too much clothes," she mumbled against his lips, bringing her hands down to pull at his pyjama bottoms.

Clint grinned and lifted Natasha up so she could pull his bottoms down, lifting his own hips as her hands pulled on the fabric. She threw them onto the floor before pushing him down onto the bed. She cocked her head to the side, smiling down at her husband. "What's wrong, Sir?" she whispered, sliding a hand to his chest.

Clint grinned and dragged his eyes over her body straddling his. "Nothing's wrong. Just enjoying the view," he replied cheekily.

Natasha smacked his chest playfully before leaning down and kissing him chastely. She moaned as Clint slid one hand between her legs, his fingers trailing between her lower lips teasingly.

"You're so wet, Natasha," he whispered softly, almost in awe.

"It was a long two weeks," she replied after a husky gasp. "I don't need any foreplay tonight," she added.

Clint lifted her and sat up. "Take control tonight, Natasha," he whispered, surprising his wife slightly. But she nodded and reached between them, gripping him firmly and placing the head of his length at her entrance.

She kissed him softly as she sunk down on his length. She whimpered at the slow stretch of her walls around his cock. She pulled away from his lips, bringing her mouth the crook of his neck. She sucked and nipped on his skin as she waited a moment to adjust to Clint inside her.

Clint kissed along the length of Natasha's neck, inhaling her scent at the same time. He wrapped his left arm around her waist while he used his right hand to take one of her hands, interlacing their fingers.

Natasha slowly rocked her hips, her free hand gripping his shoulder as she moved. She gasped as Clint planted his feet flat against the mattress. He went deeper inside her at the new angle. "Clint," she gasped, the archer dropping his head to suck one of her nipples into his mouth. "Fuck. Yes. Yes. Yes," she moaned, her walls fluttering around her husband.

Clint switched his lips to her other breast, nipping on her pert nipple teasingly. She moaned her approval, making Clint grin. He slipped his left hand between them, his fingers finding her clit easily.

Natasha's hips stuttered as Clint played with her clit. Her eyes slid closed from the addition of his calluses, and she moaned his name sinfully, her head falling back in pleasure.

"Come on, Tasha. I want to feel you come around me. You going to come on my cock?" he whispered, nipping and sucking his way up her chest until his lips reached her ear. "I couldn't stop thinking about you coming around me when we had the video-calls late at night. Please let me feel you come around me again, Tasha," he whispered huskily in her ear.

Natasha couldn't help herself. She bit Clint's shoulder to muffle her scream as she came hard around his cock, her walls fluttering and clenching tightly.

Clint wrapped both arms around Natasha's waist before slowly rolling them over. He kept himself deep inside her as he rolled them, only pulling out and thrusting back inside her when Natasha was on her back, prolonging her orgasm.

Natasha brought both hands up to Clint's shoulder blades, moaning and muffling her screams of pleasure as he started to speed up his thrusts. Each movement of his hips sent his cock against every sweet spot inside her. She knew from the look he had given her after her shower earlier that he wanted to give her a few orgasms. Despite her saying she was jetlagged.

Clint hooked his arms under Natasha's knees, holding her ankles and kneeling. He took her earlobe between his teeth and speeding up the movement of his hips until Natasha was shivering from the pleasure of a second orgasm. Their new position had the red-head convulsing in pleasure, not able to think coherently as he kept up his thrusts.

"Clint. Fuck. Please. Yes. Clint," she moaned, tossing her head back as he sucked hard on the skin of her neck.

Clint growled against her neck appreciatively and brought one hand between them, pinching her clit. "One more, Tasha. One more," he promised, kissing his way up her neck. "Come for me, Tasha. Just one more."

Natasha's eyes clouded over and she nodded, clenching her thighs around Clint's waist, as best she could with one of his hands still clasping her ankle, her free leg finding its place over his hip. "Clint. Clint," she murmured hoarsely, her fingers finding his hair, nails digging into his scalp. She was so close.

Clint suddenly thrust hard inside her, sending Natasha into a strong orgasm. Three was all he could give her tonight. He'd make sure to give her more during the next few days. She almost screamed his name as she climaxed around him, his mouth claiming hers before her voice could be heard. Her fluttering walls brought Clint into his own orgasm, the archer thrusting two, three more times before he finally came himself. He collapsed on top of her, their lips meeting slowly as they calmed down...

Natasha smiled sleepily as Clint lifted her onto his chest, having cleaned both of them and helped her back into her nightshirt while putting back on his on pyjama bottoms. She nuzzled his bare chest, her nose pushed firmly against his sternum. "I missed you," she murmured against his chest.

Clint ran his fingers gently through her hair. "I missed you too, Tasha," he murmured, pulling her leg over his hip and resting his hand on her thigh. She had one hand hooked under his shoulder while her other one rested over his heart. He'd missed her. And these moments where he felt like the King of the world, with his Queen and sons safe and sound in their home. Not that he'd ever tell her in those exact words - she laughed off any fairy-tale settings he used to describe their lives.

"Sleep, Clint. I'm here now. You can sleep now," she ordered sleepily.

Clint nodded his agreement. "I love you, Mrs. Barton," he whispered, bringing his hand from her hair down to her waist, pulling her closer.

Natasha smiled. "I love you too, Mr. Barton," she whispered before letting her exhausted body submit to sleep, her husband's heartbeat providing her a calming lullaby...

Clint followed Erik out into the kitchen. The three-year-old had insisted on making his Mama breakfast the morning she got home. He easily climbed up onto a chair beside the kitchen counter, smiling back at his father. Clint smiled and walked over to his oldest son, thankful that he had been able to get Artyom before Erik made it to the kitchen. Artyom was babbling away wordlessly to himself, sometimes putting the beak of his favourite stuffed toy Hawk in his mouth.

Placing Artyom in his high chair, in his line of sight, Clint joined Erik at the counter. "What are we going to make Mama this morning, Buddy?" the archer asked, grinning as the three-year-old frowned in concentration.

"Pancakes," Erik cheered, raising his arms above his head with a grin.

Clint chuckled and nodded. "Okay so. Pancakes it is. What should we put on it?" he replied, smiling as Erik thought about it.

"Chocolate and strawberries. Mama likes it when you make chocolate and strawberry pancakes, Dad," Erik replied, matter-of-factly. The three-year-old may not be their biological son but he was becoming more like both of them every day.

"Right. Let's get cooking," Clint said, smiling as Artyom made happy content noises with his stuffed hawk.

"Baba bababa ba baba ba baba bababa ba," Artyom babbled away to himself, smiling when Clint ran a finger over his nose playfully. Then the archer turned to Erik, preparing himself for the almost impossible mission that he was about to face; making breakfast with a three-year-old….

The cooking experiment went pretty well, considering that Eva had noticed that Erik showed early signs of ADHD. Clint could picture the list perfectly;
'1. Constant climbing (even when instructed not to do so).
2. Continuous movement, such as bouncing a knee constantly, the inability to sit without squirming, or restless feet, accompanied by frequent needs to get up and move around. (Unless sitting in Natasha or Clint's lap, he did all of these, preferring to be with his parents than sit alone).
3. Running and moving so quickly that it results in serious injury, such as stitches, even after having been told to stop. (He'd hurt himself a few times before moving to the city, often having Eva – as well as Natasha and Clint – exasperated at times).
4.. An inability to hop on one foot. (Although, sometimes kids couldn't hop on one foot until they were at least four-years-old).
5. An inability to play peacefully with others, and the occasional show of a level of aggression that requires removing the child from a situation. (Thankfully, he never showed any signs of aggression towards anyone. But unfortunately, he did show the aggression to himself, refusing to let Natasha or Clint help him when he got hurt, saying he had deserved it. Lately, and fortunately, he'd been more willing to let them help).
6. Being louder and noisier than fellow playmates. (Something that was common at such a young age, so no need to truly worry about at the moment).
7. Often befriending strangers with little caution. (Erik's time in the Red Room had made this basically impossible for him).
8. Showing unusually low fear in situations that can lead the child into danger. (Again, not something he showed often because of the Red Room).
9. The inability to focus for more than a few minutes without losing interest. (Again, something that was common at such a young age, so no need to truly worry about at the moment)
10. Refusal to participate in an activity that requires the child's attention for more than a minute or two. (Depending on who the person was – if it was his parents, Erik would agree wholeheartedly. If it was his aunts or uncles, he was more reluctant. He never refused outright).'
She had told them that it could simply be Erik growing up without the restrictions of the Red Room's training and experimentation but she wanted to keep an eye on him for further signs. It also could be him recovering from the trauma he had experienced but she didn't want to take any chances. And neither did Clint and Natasha.

Clint had managed to keep Erik and Artyom equally entertained throughout making breakfast, an accomplishment he was very proud he had achieved – he had even managed to feed Artyom his bottle during the ordeal. Balancing the plate on the tray for Erik to carry – on the three-year-old's insistence – Clint held Artyom with one arm and the glass of orange juice watched Erik carefully as they walked down the hall to the master bedroom. Opening the door with his free hand, he noticed Natasha's sleeping form on his side of the bed – but he knew she was awake the moment she heard the door open.

"Mama," Erik called as he carefully walked over to the bed, smiling happily when she blinked her eyes opened to look at him.

"Yes, Мой Малютка?" she answered, smiling lovingly at her oldest son.

"Breakfast, Mama," he replied, placing the tray on the bed as Natasha sat up.

The red-head's eyes widened in delighted surprise. "Why thank you, Мой Малютка. Did you make this yourself?" she asked, pulling the tray onto her lap. Then she gestured to Erik to climb up beside her. She wrapped her right arm around him, pulling him close to her. She pressed a loving kiss to his temple, smiling happily when he curled into her side.

Erik nodded but added cheekily, "Daddy helped. A bit." He giggled happily as Clint protested, walking over to Natasha and Erik.

Clint pouted before he walked over and kissed Natasha softly in greeting. "He is a very patient cook," he informed her proudly. "And he knows what his Mama likes too," he added happily, handing her the glass of orange juice.

Natasha smiled at her husband and leaned up to kiss Artyom's forehead lovingly. "Really?" she asked, turning her head to look at Erik. "Did you tell Daddy what I wanted for breakfast?"

Erik nodded happily. "Yup. And you like Daddy too," he replied with a grin as Clint sat down on the other side of Natasha.

Clint gently placed Artyom on his back between his outstretched legs, the six-month-old too busy giggling and chewing on his stuffed hawk to care that he had been moved from his perch on his father's hip. Clint and Natasha grinned as Artyom babbled away, content with his toy.

Erik leaned into Natasha as she started cutting into her breakfast. She handed him her spare fork, grinning as she started eating the pancakes with her oldest son. At the same time, she fed Clint with her own fork, smirking at him when he playfully pulled her and Erik closer with each bite. Clint had made pancakes enough for the three of them. And Natasha, although she didn't look forward to leave either of her boys for the next mission (and every one after that), knew that the mornings after she got home were worth the trouble…

Natasha smiled as she watched Erik, in his blue ski-jacket, race through the different playground equipment; he easily manoeuvred his way through the seesaw, merry-go-round, swing set, slide, jungle gym, chin-up bars, spring rider, monkey bars and overhead ladder. No equipment piece posed any difficulty to the three-year-old. She flickered her eyes to Artyom's sleeping form in his stroller, his pacifier falling from his opened mouth. Clint had left to get the two of them coffee at a stand nearby, bringing Lucky with him on the dog's leash. She brushed her thumb over her youngest boy's cheek just as Erik ran over to her.

"Mama. Mama. Mama. I did the jungle gym all by myself," he informed her happily, grinning wholeheartedly at her.

Natasha held out her arms and grinned. "Very good, Мой Малютка," she replied, pulling Erik into a hug and kissing his cheek lovingly. "Well done. I'm very proud of you, Erik," she told him, smiling when he leaned into her. "You'll have to tell Daddy all about it when he gets back with the drinks," she added, letting Erik perch on her lap.

Just as she finished talking, Clint arrived with their coffee. And a bottle of juice for Erik.

"Daddy!" the three-year-old greeted happily as Clint sat down beside Natasha.

"Hey Buddy," Clint replied, handing Erik his juice and kissing his oldest son's forehead before leaning forehead and pecking Natasha's lips lovingly. "Hi, моя паук," he added.

Natasha smiled and leaned her head on Clint's shoulder as he handed her her cup of coffee – a mocha with two creams, three sugars. Erik leaned back against her as he drank his juice bottle. Lucky sat obediently at Clint's feet, watching Artyom sleep peacefully in his stroller.

Clint wrapped his free arm around Natasha's shoulders, placing a kiss to her temple lovingly. They were both wearing heavy coats – he was wearing a grey winter coat while Natasha was wearing a similar one but in black (and the woman's version with a hood). "These are the best moments," he whispered to her; the moments where they could be a normal family despite their jobs, the days when they could take their kids and dog to the park without having to worry about being called to work.

Natasha smiled. She tightened her arm around Erik's waist, leaning further into her husband's touch, her eyes falling to Artyom's sleeping form once more. "Yes. Yes, these are the best moments…"

Did you miss me? ;)

And yes, I did do The Lion King at the start of the chapter. I simply couldn't resist. Really too tempting ;)

Also, I think you all deserved an early update :) As well as that, this will have more flashbacks in it. From Erik, Natasha and Clint. So please prepare for more angst-filled memories :(

To answer the reviews from the epilogue of Fifty Shades of Barton:

ScarlettBarton: Well that explains the 5SOS reference someone else had mentioned… Oops? ;) I feel so stupid for not realising I had put that in Ch. 27… But I do like that song too so all good :)

Good girls are bad girls who haven't been caught I love that song

EveRN73: Thank you :) I hope this one will just be as good as the one before :)

Guest: I hope the wait was worth it :)

MelodyDaughterOfHecate: I hope this was worth the wait :)

Aliana: It had to end… So this could begin :) I hope this was worth the wait :) Thank you for following :)

ClintBartonsGirl92: :) Ah, that happens :) I hope this was worth the wait :)

beverlie4055: Thank you :)

JuliaAurelia: Thank you :) I'll pass on the congrats when they have the boys later in this story :) Yup, for them to all to be little troublemakers ;) Their parents will be able to handle them. Mostly :)
I hope this was worth the wait :)
Thank you :)

katara-zuko1714: Thank you :) I hope this was just as good :)

KittyCatChibi: Thank you :) I hope this was as good :) Thank you for letting me know :) Hope this was worth the wait :)

Random thought here guys, but does anyone think that Scar is like Loki? Anyone?
I put the characters like this when I was watching the movie with my boyfriend and nephew:
Mufasa – Thor
Scar – Loki
Sarabi – Jane
Simba – Clint
Nala – Natasha
Rafiki – Phil
Zasu – Steve
Timon – Tony
Pumbaa – Bruce
Just a random thought, sorry :)