Little Sister *Avengers Fan-Fiction*

Chapter 39

(A/N: Looking back on my last chapter [which sucked, a lot] I realized how friggin' short it was. Yeah, not my proudest moment, so, this one is going to be as long as I can make it, [Heheheheh long as I can make it,] so I hope you enjoy. Bye bye my little proxies, enjoy reading!)

"So tonight, are we going to hit up the club? We can't take forever on this mission." I said, looking at the food with disdain. Not that the food was bad, but I seriously wasn't hungry from last night. But Clint just kept piling food in his plate like he hasn't eaten in weeks.

"How're you hungry? We ate like friggin King Henry the eighth last night!" I said.

"I can eat because I'm a big boy and big boys gotta eat." Clint said taking his plate of food to an empty table. I rolled my eyes and sat down across from him.

"Anyway, if you could answer my question from earlier." I said impatiently.

"Look, what we gotta do, is hit up the club, but you, have to look like a slut." My eyes widened.

"No, it's not happenin-"

"It's the only way to get his attention. Only way. . .and you may or may not have to have sex with him."

"I was never told this!"

"Welcome to the agent business!"

"Why can you be a slut?"

"One, I'd be way too sexy and everyone would want me. Two, he's not attracted to men, he's attracted to twenty dollar whores. Three, I'm going to be keeping watch, if anything happens, I'll be there to get you out of it." Clint said. "If anything happens to you, I'm done for."

"Who'll kill you first is the big question."

"Well, there's Bruce, then there's Fury, who'll probably be more pissed that I failed the mission. So Fury wouldn't kill me, I'd just be severely punished, and then Bruce can kill me."

"Well, glad that's taken care of."

"So, we'll whore you up around twenty-two hundred hours, and we'll head down to the club." Clint said.

"Ten o'clock, got it."

~ * ~

My grimaced at my clothes, they were extremely tight. The dress was black, and you could see the top of my bra, and my cleavage just wanted to make me throw up. The dress was strapless and as I said before, extremely tight. Like Snookie tight. I was wearing black high heeled boots that came up past my knee, so hooker boots.

'You have to wear a red lacy bra,' Clint had said. 'It makes every guy go nuts, trust me.'

The only thing about it was that it was too long for a slut. It went down to knees, and I had to rip it to make it short enough, which was a little above my mid thigh.

"Ooh the ripped look, also makes a guy go wild. You have to mess your hair up a bit." Clint said. I started to finger tease my hair and Clint just kept shaking his head.

"Just let me do it." He finally said. He started to finger tease my hair like I was before. He huffed.

"Bend over." He said.

"Fuck no-"

"So I can do your hair." He said, rolling his eyes. I bent over, and Clint stood in front of me continuing to do my hair. After a few moments I stood up.

"Alright, that should help a little bit. Right, so you like the sluttiest slut to ever slut."

"Why thank you." I said sarcastically.

"No problem, now, let's head down."

"I feel so exposed." I said as we were in the elevator.

"That's the point." I kicked him on side of his leg.

"Ow-fuck!" He exclaimed holding his leg. "Jesus Christ! Those heels hurt!"

"That's the point." I mocked. Clint glared at me and I smirked.

The elevator opened and lead the way to the club.

"Let's hope we don't meet up with the perkiest people alive." I said, staying close to Clint as we walked.

"Same." We headed down the hallway that led to the club, and could already hear the music playing. I held my ears.

"Fuck, this why I hate clubs." I said as Clint opened the door, the bass causing my eardrums to pound.

"Heightened Senses suck huh?" Clint yelled over the music.

"Yes actually." I yelled back.