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#clint barton fan fiction
fleursfairies · 3 months
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which character in a "peter takes a fieldtrip to avengers tower" fic are you
personally im clint in the vents
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ragingphantom666 · 13 days
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Marvel Worlds project plan: Hawkeye (Vol. 1)
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This series is not an assured project. It is a concept that can still be changed or scrapped.
Synopsis
A plan to start a family has been thrown into jeopardy. Clint Barton, the Avenger known as Hawkeye, has been targeted by a mysterious enemy. He must protect his wife and home from the merciless Crossfire.
Characters
Clint Barton/Hawkeye - An Avenger and former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. He lives on a farm in the plains with his wife. He is still an active Avenger, but he spends some time at home with his wife while she is pregnant.
Barbara "Bobbi" Barton/Mockingbird - A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who goes by the codename Mockingbird. At the time of this volume, she is on maternity leave.
William Cross/Crossfire - A mercenary and assassin hired by a mysterious client to capture Clint Barton by whatever means possible. He believes he is the better marksman.
Other Information
I wanted this to feel like a western film.
Bullseye was originally meant to be the big bad, but his personality did not fit the tone and I'm saving him for something else.
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elvenfforestydd · 26 days
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FIC REQUEST
Hi friends -- Help a Phd Student out. I'm looking for two things:
MCU headcannons that are really popular originated in Fan Fiction. Bonus points if they are about Steve or Tony. Like tropes you see all the time, but aren't part of canon. I.E. Ceiling Vent Clint Barton.
MCU Hurt Comfort tropes that are very common and popular. Bonus points if about Steve or Tony.
Share if you could. I'm writing a dissertation about this stuff and need some examples.
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mcu-fan-fics-blog · 1 year
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Misunderstanding The Assignment
Mini Series (Not My GIF)
Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader
Word Count: 1115
A/N: Sometimes things don go the way we want them to... That doesn’t mean that we can’t enjoy the ride. I’ve had this idea for a while now as some of you know, but I think I finally found the right way to frame it. There will be more installments. If you like it let me know ;) ILY 
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Working in SHIELD changed you. That much was obvious, your discipline was through the roof, your mind was sharper than you ever thought it could be, and let's not even get started with the trust issues you’ve gained along the way. Then again maybe the mind thing isn’t quite there yet. See you could get so focused on somethings that you'd completely block everything else out. You practically lived under a rock in every aspect of your life except your work. You were always on top of that. Which is why you found yourself in the current predicament. See you’d been out on a mission when Clint came back with one of his projects and you weren’t really paying attention when he told you about his most recent assignment... 
Natasha, who was she... She was the Black Widow. Not on your side that was what you knew about her. Color yourself surprised when you find Clint and her in the training room the day after you got back from your mission. “I see we let anyone in here these days.” You say lightly directing yourself towards Clint. He sighs. “Y/n play nice... This is Natasha Romanoff. She’ll be under my supervision, and yours too hopefully.” He says smiling lightly Clint was one of your closest friends and sometimes he took advantage of that. “How long are you going to be gone this time?” You already know where this is going. “Boss wants me back for at least a month, two and I get some brownie points.” He tells you knowingly. “So you bring back Natasha, then you dump her on me. Natasha who if I remember correctly... was your target. Someone you don't trust, someone I don't trust. And you leave?” You question.
He simply nods. “Come on Y/n do me this favor. You know how the boss can get sometimes, especially now.” You knew... Laura was newly pregnant of course she’d want Clint home. You sigh and he smiles knowing he’d already convinced you. “As long as you give credit where credit is due you hear me Barton.” He nods again. And finally someone shuffling catches your eyes. “Well Y/n this is Natasha. Natasha I'm sure you heard you’ll be under Y/n’s supervision for the time being. All I ask is that you behave.” There’s a small smile that plays on her lips. “I think that I can manage that.” With that and some other formalities Clint makes his way out of the training room. “I don’t trust you.” Is all you say. She tensed. “I’ve heard stories... very colorful....” Natasha goes to say something but you stop her. “But for some reason Clint wants to, so there must be something he sees in you.” 
The eye contact is intense to say the least but neither of you waiver so you continue. “I am not your friend, nor will we be. We will train. I'll teach you some of the basics here at SHIELD then we’ll go our separate ways.”  She nods in understanding. “One last thing, you mess up and you won’t be letting me down, you'll be letting Clint down. You do that, I'll hunt you down, and take you out myself.” This seems to irritate Natasha. “I’d like to see you try.” A condescending smirk on her face. “You don’t trust me, I get it.” Her accent heavy. You nod and don’t push her anymore. “Tomorrow at 4 in the morning we will meet her to assess your skills. Then some basics lay of the land and all here at SHIELD.” She nodded and made her exit.
You weren't necessarily happy with this development. Clint had a way of weaseling out of things when his family was involved. You couldn’t blame him, but still you were annoyed. The next day things didn’t go smoothly to say the least. “This did not have to escalate this far.” Was all you said between ragged breaths. See you were currently pinned on the floor with your arm suspiciously num and a stinging pain every time you took a breath. You’d barely gotten a couple of punches out before she was all over you. Maybe you should’ve looked deeper into her. You were definitely missing something. She was in a different mindset when you attacked, you saw the moment the switch flipped in her. You also heard when she zoned back in. She gasped and immediately released you.
She tried to get ahold of you again, but you didn’t let her. “You’ve done enough.” Other agents had already surrounded the two of you. It took two agents five minutes to pop your arm back in place and another one to walk you to the infirmary. Maria had already been informed and was waiting for you. “Is she a liability?” That was all she asked. “Fury will pull the plug if you think this won’t work.” You knew she was worried. You also knew that, that wasn't true. “You flatter me…” She chuckled. “Fury’s got a lot of stake in this. Natasha has a lot of stake in this…” You nodded. “It’s alright officer, I’m not pressing charges.” You joked. “I’ll be fine in a couple of weeks.” You finish off. 
Someone had been stalking your door, you had a feeling of who it was. You opened the door before she could leave. “You here to finish the job?” You jabbed not so lightheartedly. It took her a moment to process your words, and another to school her features. “If you were a ‘job’ I would’ve finished it.” You chuckled. “You almost did…” You didn’t throw it in her face this time, just softly pointed it out. “I’m sorry..” , “It was my fault…” the statements left your respective mouths at the same time. You both acknowledged the statements, and made no move to take them back. “I mean it, I shouldn’t have pushed.” She nodded, accepting your reasoning. “I mean it too I am sorry for you arm… And your ribs.” 
You went back into your room and left the door open for her to follow and she did. “You have some very powerful friends here.” You pointed out. It was somehow all pilling in front of you and it was all you could focus on. This was a mission, she was a mission. “Why.” It was all you asked. You knew better than to think this was only because of her skills, sure they were a part of it but, why her? She blanched at the question. And again you saw her slip a mask on. “We’re not friends nor will we ever be.” You nodded. With that she left and that was that.
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dispatchvampire · 2 months
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Close Encounters of the Preferred Kind - (MCU/Justified Crossover)
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Part 2 in my wholly unintentional Two Snipers series.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Justified/The Avengers (MCU) Crossover (kinda)
Pairing: Clint Barton/Tim Gutterson
Word Count: 2066
Warnings: Fluff (kinda sorta, if you squint), canon level violence, aliens, cussing, a lot of cussing.
Summary: Set after the events of 'Bad Mistakes (I've Made A Few)', this is the second meeting of our fateful couple, with aliens invading, families meeting, and, of course, Tim's long-suffering boss, Chief Deputy Marshal Art Mullen. Life gets messy when worlds collide.
Author’s Notes: 100% did not intend to write a follow-up to BM, but these two don't really do things on my timeline or my schedule. Anyway, the idea of this made me laugh, this is what happens when you introduce your Boo to your people, and everybody had issues. Oh, and the mood board was all me, with picture credit going to their varying photographers.
Eastern Kentucky is not where one expects Armageddon to start, but there it is and there they are. 
“What the fuck am I looking at, Art?” the sniper asked his superior officer as he stared unflinchingly down his rifle scope. When he’d gotten the call that all hell had broken loose in Noble’s Holler, Tim figured it was more methed up psychopaths who were unclear on the local mayor’s penchant for pig sticking. Purple creatures falling out of a hole in the sky with more tentacles than a jellyfish was not on his bingo card. 
“I got no idea,” the older man answered, never once looking up from his binoculars, “but my suggestion is nothing but headshots.” He paused as he loaded his own rifle and stretched out on a bluff overlooking the mayhem next to Tim. To look at the Chief Deputy in his tie and button down shirt, he didn’t seem the type to get down on the ground and dirty, but most folks underestimated him to their peril. The man taught at Glynco and was a badass well before Tim got proficient with a slingshot, much less a rifle.  “Assuming that those are actually their heads.”
“Copy that.” There was nothing quite as satisfying as brass ejecting from the port and watching his target become iridescent green mist. 
Alien invasions were not generally the purview of the United States Marshals Service,  but occasionally, needs must. 
The giant millipedes had massive tentacles and leathery purple skin which was impervious to conventional small arms fire; the only thing that seemed to fell the murderous, marauding bastards was a shot through he presumed was the eye, a target approximate the size of a navel orange, or through the mouth, an open maw about the size of a peach. Luckily, the produce section had never been an issue for Tim. 
He’d been shooting and reloading for the better part of an hour after the damn portal opened up, doing his best to defend Ellstin Limehouse’s normally quiet enclave as best he could. It was the least he could do, even if he didn’t exactly trust the guy. Their interpersonal issues had nothing to do with the welfare of the innocents being set upon by these nightmare fuel monstrosities. 
Correction: “By comparison, my nightmares are a breeze.”
When the first creature fell without his intervention, Tim was startled enough to jerk back from the ledge and take his eyes off the scope, just in time to see the honest-to-God Captain America shield go flying past the end of his rifle, taking out a creature coming up on his flank that he’d missed before bouncing back to its owner with disturbing accuracy. 
“I am entirely too old for this shit,” Art grumbled as he rolled away from the edge to reload his rifle with all the annoyance and irritation of a deluge of Friday afternoon paperwork. 
“I will be goddamned,” Tim murmured reverently as his brain processed what was happening. Creatures began falling left, right, and center as a roaring overhead signaled the arrival of Iron Man while the roaring on the ground was the giant green menace known as the Hulk ripping through these things like they were made of tissue paper. But that wasn’t what held his interest. 
There, big as life and dressed in form-fitting purple and black kevlar, was the luscious not-so-little secret he’d been keeping since his detail in DC. What should have been a routine job a couple months ago turned into a three-night-stand for the duration of the operation, and then some flirty texts back and forth and more than the occasional round of phone sex in the time intervening. None of that could have prepared him for seeing Clint in action up close and personal. 
The armless black suit emphasized every unreasonably pretty inch of the man, from his ridiculous arms that wielded a bow as ably as he hefted his own rifle, shot after unerring shot bounding and leaping nimbly from cover to cover, down to the perfect cupcake ass that fit in his hands just so. Goddamn the man was so pretty he could be considered a potentially lethal distraction. 
“You gonna watch or are you gonna shoot?” Raylan demanded from his right as he stretched out on the ground with a rifle to join the party. The cowboy had been late to the party since he and Rachel had been left to man the office in Lexington, but once gunplay became the order of the day, Tim knew it was only a matter of time before the man in the infamous tan hat showed up. That he was able to convince Rachel, their normally by-the-book and most level-headed colleague, to come out on an alien invasion spoke to the man’s ability to charm the devil himself out of his seat in Hell. 
“Fuck you,” Tim snarled, but without any heat behind it as he took up his position again and began firing once more at the few remaining creatures on the ground below them. 
From start to finish was just under three hours of sustained fire, and when Tim finally rose to his feet to survey the area, the story was told in the sea of expended brass cartridges and rivers of green blood running through the streets of the valley below. Black trucks were rolling in from both sides of the holler with SHIELD logos on them, signaling the cleanup crew. 
“You know what time it is now, right?” Raylan asked with a devilish grin as he doffed his hat to shrug out of his ballistic vest. He’d stripped down to a form-fitting white t-shirt and looked more like he’d been called in from a day off than from a day at the office. 
“What’s that?” Art demanded as the guys helped him to his feet, brushing an annoyed hand over the wrinkles and streaks of dirt that his wife Leslie would likely fuss over later. After she yelled at him about going out on an alien invasion not two months out of a stint at the heart hospital. 
With a shiteating grin and the pop of a peppermint Altoid in his mouth, Raylan nodded toward the collection of superheroes at the edge of the fray, watching the cleanup proceedings begin and talking amongst themselves. “The interagency debrief, of course!” He was off before anyone had a chance to contradict him, leaving Tim, Rachel, and Art to chase after the cocksure cowboy. 
“Can’t get him to even look at paperwork any other time,” Rachel grumbled as they slowly approached the other group. 
“This ain’t paperwork,” Tim replied, though his eyes were on one thing and one thing only. 
Like they had a mind of their own, his feet carried him right up until he was close enough to tap Clint on the shoulder. “How do, stranger.”
The pure joy on the man’s face when he turned around did funny, fizzy things to his insides that he was loath to examine, and were dangerously close to giddy. The man smelled like sweat and looked like heaven, and fuck if all he wanted to do was run his hands over those arms that had held him up against a wall more than once. As it was, he was standing closer than was strictly necessary and well beyond the bounds of ‘just friends reuniting’. The desire to wrap his arms around the man was damn difficult to quell. 
“I wondered if I’d get to see you,” the archer replied with a shy smile and flushed cheeks. “I mean, I’d hoped,” he rambled on, “but then—” he gestured at the carnage behind him. 
For a moment, it was like the world had winnowed down to just the two of them. “I get it. I’m glad you’re here now, though.” 
“Me too.”
And then the moment was broken by the diminutive redhead standing next to them elbowing Clint in the ribs. “Who’s your friend, Barton?” She was equally clad in black, the kevlar skating over and highlighting every single curve and hollow, highlighting both the beauty and the danger that she embodied. 
Rolling his eyes, Clint took half a step back to face her more fully. “Nat, this is Tim Gutterson of the Marshals.” 
Her green eyes lit up as her lips curved into a mischievous smirk. “The hottie you told me about from a couple months ago in DC?” 
The blond’s eyes widened comically as his face shifted from flushed to pale to tomato red with alarming speed. “Real subtle, Nat.” 
If his face felt hot before, now it felt like the skin was melting off of him. The idea of Clint talking about him, to Black Widow of all people, combined with the adrenaline dump of the situation only added to the feeling of surreal dissociation. Feeling a bit cheeky, he grinned slyly as he looked Clint up and down. “Talking about me, Clint? My heart’s a-flutter with curiosity.” 
“Deputy Gutterson, you gonna introduce your friends?” Art’s voice was a bucket of cold water down his back as he suddenly remembered both his location and his audience. 
From Raylan’s grin, he knew he would never EVER live this down, no matter how many terrible situations the cowboy’s penchant for prohibited pussy landed them in, and Rachel? Well, she was the office master interrogator for a reason and he knew damn sure that he would be spilling everything he knew to her before they made it to the Lexington city limits. 
“Chief Deputy Art Mullen, this is Clint Barton of the Avengers and …” he trailed off, uncertain how to introduce the Black Frickin’ Widow. 
She stepped up and shook Art’s hand like a practiced politician. “Natasha Romanov. Lovely to meet you.” 
The older man smiled and, while Tim couldn’t swear to it, appeared to blush like a schoolboy. “Likewise.” 
Not to be outdone, Raylan smoothly inserted himself between them with his hand out and his 1000 megawatt gunslinger charm turned to ‘thermonuclear’. “Raylan Givens, Miss Romanov. Longtime admirer of your work.” 
She giggled. The assassin actually fucking giggled and her nose wrinkled. “You can call me Natasha.” 
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Art watched this scene, the four of them talking amongst themselves, with apocalyptic levels of horror dawning on his face. The sheer amount of paperwork Raylan and Tim, hell Raylan by himself most days, generate was enough to fell a small forest. These folks together were an environmental crime waiting to happen. The potential bodycount of a Raylan and Romanoff team-up was nothing short of an imminent violation of the Geneva Convention. “Oh absolutely fucking not.” 
All four heads turned in his direction, Raylan’s mouth already open and ready to rock, but he was having none of the bullshit. 
“You,” Art pointed to the cowboy, “get in the car.” 
“Bu—”
“Nope,” he held up the finger of doom, the finger of ‘unpaid time off if he kept on,’ it 3was one they were all exceptionally familiar with. “Car. Now.” Turning to Tim, he softened a bit. “Say your goodbyes, we have paperwork.” 
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Rather than argue, Tim merely nodded, cringing when he turned to face Clint. “Dad says I gotta go.” 
Clint’s smirk was nothing short of wicked and it was suddenly a billion degrees around Tim. “I’ll be around tonight if you wanna meet up.” 
“I’d like that just fine.” Anything else he wanted to say was cut off at a sound he rarely heard outside of the comforts of her mother’s house. A sound that stripped away the years and the edge to reveal a girl much more carefree. Deputy Marshal Rachel ‘I make suspects cry for funsies’ Brooks was standing off to the side and making googoo eyes at none other than the Brooklyn Boys. Captain Frickin America and the Winter Goddamn Soldier were flirting with his best friend and putting their numbers in her phone. 
“See what you did?” Art demanded from behind him as he leaned against the closed passenger door of the sedan that sealed Raylan inside.
“Me?” Tim demanded in affront. “How is this my fault?”
Art’s face was a mask of vaguely amused sarcasm. “You’re a bad influence.”
“Well, now that’s just hurtful. Besides,” he threw his rifle bag in the trunk before slinking into the back seat on the driver’s side and meeting his friend’s eyes in the rearview mirror, “I thought that was Raylan.” 
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Thor Odinson x Reader ~ Shopping Lists
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A/N: A cute plot idea provided by my lovely friend @drstrangefictions​! I hope you guys enjoy. (Please note that this is supposed to take place roughly right after the first Avengers film in 2012.) I know I have been incredibly slow and inactive, and I apologize for that. A mix of writer’s block and a busy life are to blame. I will try to be more consistent, but I do not want to make any promises. Thank you to those of you who stick around and support my writing in spite of this.
Word Count: 2534
“Hi, welcome to Big Tony’s Supermarket, where prices are so cheap, it should be illegal.”
The day seems to pass too slowly for (Y/n) as she half-heartedly greets every customer who walks into the store and past her spot at the register. She cannot wait to finally leave her retail position behind to pursue her dream of becoming a chef, but unfortunately, she needs this current job until she can achieve her degree and experience before quitting—college is not cheap; while the job is nowhere near desirable, (Y/n) cannot bring herself to complain since her boss pays her quite well. The customers, however, often leave her very wary and uncomfortable. She often chalks it up to the shady neighborhood, but there is nothing she can do about it until the day she can afford to leave town.
One day, she tells herself, she will be able to afford to be jobless for a short period of time as she searches for a reputable restaurant willing to hire her as a chef. There is no way (Y/n) will ever settle for employment in the fast food industry. She has big dreams and refuses to ever go near cheap, greasy food with questionable ingredients. Creating dishes with real food is an art, and (Y/n) will not settle for anything less.
“Hi welcome to Bi-” In the middle of greeting another patron, (Y/n) finds herself tongue-tied and star-struck. The man who passes through the threshold of the automatic doors is nothing like any of her usual customers. Long blond hair whips around as he turns his head to scan the store, his striking blue eyes lighting up with delight once he notices her.
“Are you the keeper of this market?”
“Y-You’re Thor…” (Y/n) utters out in amazement. She never thought she would ever live the day to see a god standing before her, let alone speak to her. “And, umm…I just work here.”
“Then you are the perfect person to assist me,” Thor exclaims with a smile. “My teammates have requested that I purchase something for them. Could you help me, grocer?”
“S-sure thing! What do you need to purchase?”
“I do not recall.” A frown tugs at Thor’s lips as he struggles to recall what the Avengers had told him. He faintly remembers them shouting various things as they passed around a pencil and long sheet of paper. They handed him the paper and shooed him off before he could ask. “I believe they called it a ‘grocery list.’”
It takes every fiber of (Y/n) being to not laugh at the blond god. She realizes that Thor has probably not been on Earth long enough to understand the ways of life for humans, but she cannot help but find humor in his confusion.
“No, no,” she giggles softly. “A grocery list is what we use to write down the stuff we need to buy. Did they give you a piece of paper?”
“Ah, yes!Here it is.” Thor, who is dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, reaches into his pocket to fish out a crumpled ball of paper to hand to (Y/n). “Please decipher this page, grocer.”
Scanning the Avengers’ handwriting, (Y/n) tries her best to make sense of the list. A few items are incomprehensible, but given that she can read a majority of the list, she disregards the minor issue. She grabs a pen from the cubby below the register while beckoning Thor to follow her as she switches off her station’s green light. The god obediently trails with a spring in his step.
“Well, the first item on here is goat’s milk,” (Y/n) informs him, a pen pointing out the messy scribbles at the top of the paper. “For any dairy products, all you have to do is look for the number thirteen.”
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A week has passed since a visit from Thor and (Y/n) cannot keep her mind off of him. She tries to convince herself that she is merely infatuated by the idea of having been in the presence of a god, but a small part of her wonders if there is much more. Something about his innocence, his obliviousness, of human customs and ways of life—it attracts her like a moth to a flame.
Warmth suddenly floods (Y/n)’s cheeks, leaving her to pat them in an attempt to dispel the redness. Common sense tells her to disregard the butterflies in her chest; she had only met Thor for two hours that day, so it would be unreasonable to think of him as anything other than another customer.
The sliding of the automatic doors signals the entrance of a customer, so (Y/n) turns to greet them, only to see the one person, the god, who has been occupying her thoughts. Just like the week before, (Y/n)’s words are caught in her throat.
“Grocer! We meet again!”
“Oh,” she gasps, his exclamation having startled her out of her dazed state. “Hi, Thor. How are you today?”
“I am doing well. My team has tasked me with the weekly purchasing of their sustenance.” Thor hands over his list once again, a sheepish smile gracing his features as (Y/n) accepts the sheet with an open palm. “Stark has asked that I bring him a ‘can of sprayable cheese,’ but I am afraid I do not understand why or how curds of milk can be stored or dispensed in such a way.”
“Don’t worry. It’s not too difficult to find, though explaining it is much more complicated.”
“Very well. Please lead the way.”
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“Thor! Back so soon? I hope the list wasn’t too difficult for you,” Tony greets with an impish smile as the large god steps out of the tower’s elevator with multiple bags in hand. 
“My journey to the indoor market was absolutely delightful. I was able to retrieve all that you asked without fail. The kind grocer has been aiding my search every time.”
“Wait, wait, wait. What grocer? I sent you to the supermarket, not a farmers market or wet market.”
Thor immediately deposits the bags of groceries on the counter top and goes into detail about the kindness of the female market employee who has been taking it upon herself to personally guide the thunder god throughout the store to pick out the items documented on his shopping list while also providing explanations for any particular items he was unfamiliar with.
“I shall gladly retrieve your weekly necessities without fail, Stark. I am graced with the grocer’s hospitality and beauty each visit. There is nothing she cannot find.”
“Oh really, huh? Nothing she can’t find…”
Once again, thoughts of the thunder god have invaded (Y/n)’s mind as she wanders into the back storage room of the store. This time, her mind begins to wonder what life would be like with Thor. She dreams of herself going on dates with him, sitting in a park with a basket of food, chatting the day away with her head resting on one of his broad shoulders.
The sudden clanging of a can hitting the tiled flooring brings (Y/n) back to the real world. She absentmindedly reaches for the fallen object, but when her hand fails to feel for the round can, she comes in contact with another hand.
Jerking her head up to chastise whoever was about to steal her runaway can she has yet to label with a price sticker when she is met with a friendly pair of blue eyes she has been acquainting herself with as of late.
“Good afternoon,” Thor greets cheerfully as he stands to his full height with the can in his grasp, forcing (Y/n) to rise as well. “I figured I could help you since you have that large box to carry as well. I did not mean to startle you.”
Rather than freezing up, this time, (Y/n) musters up the courage to take the can from Thor to return it to the box, picking it up as she walks the product over to its designated aisle with the thunder god trailing after her.
“How have you been, Thor? Anything exciting happen this week? Not everyone lives in a building with a handful of friends who are also superheroes,” (Y/n) comments without so much as a glance at Thor, too focused on her job of restocking the canned goods. While it doesn’t take very long, she wants to do her best to stay on her boss’ good side.
“Ah, yes. Barton and Stark were ecstatic to receive the haul of requested items. In fact, they were so excited for my trip this week that their laughter was like thunder as I walked away with their list.”
“Really? Well, I am done here, so may I see what you’re here for today?”
At first glance, the shopping list seems normal enough. The team of heroes wrote down grocery items such as vegetables, meats, milk, protein powder, fruits, and so forth—the standard, healthy muscle-building stuff. Yet, as (Y/n) reads further down the list, she suddenly understands the reason for the boisterous laughter Thor had described moments ago.
“What’s this last one, Thor? I can’t really read it.” “Oh! Barton had asked for the particles that fall off of pixies during flight.”
“Pixie dust?” (Y/n)’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead at the description Thor provides her, thus confirming a suspicion she did not want proven to be true. There is no way these human heroes are asking for a substance that is a byproduct of a supernatural creature’s flight activities. Surely this god is just pulling her leg. “Why wo-” “Yes! That is exactly what he asked of me.” Guess he is being serious. While she does not understand why the Avengers are sending Thor on a wild goose chase for magical pixie dust, (Y/n) is more than willing to play along if it means spending more time with him. “Right here at aisle eight.” Walking down to the row filled with shelves of confectioneries and snacks, (Y/n) leads Thor over to several boxes filled with colorful paper tubes. “Here you go: Pixy Stix. It doesn’t exactly come from pixies, but-”
“Perfect! Thank you, grocer.”
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For well over a month, (Y/n) has been receiving regular visits from Thor, who seeks her out for assistance with his teammates’ outrageous shopping list requests. Taking advantage of the fact that the thunder god is still learning the English language, the young woman opts to substitute some of the mythical items on the paper with obscure items—usually foods native to an obscure region in the world to keep the Avengers on their toes.
Now, as the register beeps continuously as she continuously passes items through the scanner, the nearby cart nearly filled to the brim, she takes a brief second to wonder how the blond thunder god is able to afford all the groceries; her eyes eventually find the black credit card with Tony Stark’s name on the bottom, reminding her of the true reason for his regular visits. She tells herself to get over the juvenile feelings she has been developing for someone who clearly has no interest in her. 
Thor is just being polite. 
Nothing more, nothing less.
She enjoys helping him, but her heart cannot help but yearn for more. It yearns to see the thunder god every day, to be able to openly express its feelings for him without the worry of rejection. For now, all she can do is placate her hunger for love by pushing aside her thoughts to focus on the task at hand: ringing up Thor’s purchases.
“So, I got most of the items on that list for you,” (Y/n) explains with a small smile, “but I’m afraid some of those things are just not available.”
“I do not understand.” Thor’s face drops as an expression of concern overtakes his smile. “Is it an essential item?”
“No, no, no.” Quick to reassure him, the woman waves her hand in objection while trying to contain the giggle bubbling up her throat. “Well, I mean, unless if you’re something along the lines of a stereotyped witch from popular culture, I doubt you’ll be able to find any yeti hair, griffin claws, or wendigo antlers. Those items are either mythical or fictional. I don’t want to pry, but I think the Avengers are pranking you.”
The look of disbelief and shock on Thor’s face is enough to make (Y/n)’s heart hurt for him. For a moment, she could visibly see the thoughts coursing through his mind.
 The god did not deserve this. 
“Why would they do that?”
She does not have an answer to that. If she had to guess, the newly formed team of heroes have chosen to haze their extraterrestrial teammate. While their long-standing prank seems pretty harmless, (Y/n) still worries. Thor seems to wear his heart on his sleeve, and put his full trust in his teammates. He must have taken the prank too seriously and felt hurt from being sent on a wild goose chase.
“It’s okay, though! It’s just a harmless joke. I’m honestly glad you come in every day. Getting to talk with you really makes me happy.”
A small smile creeps up on the god’s face upon hearing this. He enjoys spending time with (Y/n) too. So much so that the thought of it coming to an end saddens him.
“I do not wish to end our small discussions. Should you allow me to, I would love to escort you to a restaurant tonight for dinner.”
“Are you asking me out on a date, Thor,” (Y/n) asks shyly, a growing blush spreading across her warm cheeks.
“I am.”
Nodding happily with a bright smile, she accepts his proposition. A quick glance at the clock on the wall tells her she still has two hours before the end of her shift, so she relays this information to the blond god.
With a promise from Thor to return after dropping off the groceries at the tower, (Y/n) pushes through the remainder of her shift with a newfound source of energy.
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“So, how do you plan on paying for dinner tonight? I doubt you have a job here on Earth that’ll help cover the fees.” The air is chilly as the winds pick up around the young woman and her date. Much to her surprise, Thor had chosen to go to a high end restaurant not too far from her workplace; the price for just one appetizer alone costs more than her hourly salary, which leaves her wary. She is not petty enough to leave the bill all up to the god of thunder, but she simply cannot afford to pay for a full meal.
Glancing over her shoulder, (Y/n) is met with a cheeky smile and wink as Thor reaches into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small black card she has come to recognize.
“I decided that Tony Stark should at least treat us to this meal. Let us consider this as his reparation.”  
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wbtym-pod · 7 months
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S1E9 - Oops All Fanfictions is live! This is a recording of our community fan fiction reading event and it is...an experience.
WBTYM is not liable for your therapy costs after this episode.
You can find all the fics we read in this public post from our Patreon: shorturl.at/eGPY0
…but for most of them, I'm not sure why you'd want to.
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Protector
“Nobody fuss at me for the Star Wars reference, but I have a bad feeling about this.”
Steve heard Sam huff behind him, and couldn’t resist speaking up. “That’s the one with the Vulcans and Klingons, right?”
“...I honestly can’t tell if you’re serious or not,” Lang replied over their comm line in a horrified tone. “Sci-fi geeks the world over just shuddered with rage and don’t know why.”
“There’s an art to figuring out if Cap’s asking a genuine question or just messing with you,” Clint offered, somewhere up in the ventilation system. Steve smirked as he kept moving silently down the hallway. “I have yet to master it. Might ask Nat for some pointers.”
“If he gets shit-eating grin on his face right after the question, you know he’s teasing.” Natasha cast a quick glance over her shoulder. Steve let his smirk widen, and she winked back. “But this time, I think he might actually mean it.”
“Ohh no, I might not be fully fluent in Steve-speak but I AM an expert with all things Romanov, and she definitely just teased you. Which probably means there is, in fact, a shit-eating grin on Captain America’s face right now.”
Sam snorted, and spoke into his comlink before Lang could finish sputtering. “Trust me, Scott, don’t go down that rabbit hole, they’ll only drag you deeper. Now, getting back to the mission, does anybody have eyes on the secret entrance we’re supposed to be looking for?”
“Oh, yeah, I found it a minute ago. It’s why I mentioned the bad feeling - there’s some blood on the threshold. Like, only a few drops, but still. Somebody injured got pulled through here, and pretty recently.”
“Well, we are looking into the possibility of a new Winter Soldier program,” Natasha muttered, picking up her pace a little bit. “Would make sense to abduct a couple of disposable test subjects if they’re lacking volunteers.”
Steve started moving faster too. “All the more reason to shut this place down as soon as possible. Joining us, Hawkeye, or have you found another way in?”
Just ahead of them, the archer himself suddenly appeared, dropping down from the ceiling with a vent cover in hand. He set it aside and fell into step with Natasha. “Joining. Whatever kind of set-up they’ve got downstairs, it must be on a separate airflow system - I couldn’t find even a single vertical shaft.”
Soon enough their group of four reached Lang’s position, and the man reverted to normal size before gesturing at an unremarkable stretch of wall. “Trust me, the seams are pretty small, but they’re there. Also, I haven’t spotted any security cameras, but...”
“But any facility worth their salt will probably have eyes on us as soon as we go in,” Steve finished grimly. Six months ago, they would’ve had Tony’s help hacking and disabling security networks, but that option wasn’t available anymore. “So we hit ‘em hard and fast instead of stealthy.”
“Ready when you are, Cap,” Sam stated.
Nodding, Steve backed up a little bit - then launched himself forward, and knocked down the door.
They expected alarm klaxons to go off as soon as their presence was detected. What they did not expect was for alarms to already be going off, deeper within the facility. Steve could hear them pretty well, and even his teammates without enhanced senses managed to pick up the high-pitched echoes. “Ooh-kay,” Lang said slowly, “Sounds like they’ve already got some problems going on.”
Clint shrugged at him, a flash-grenade arrow nocked to his bowstring. “If it makes our job easier, I’m not complaining.”
“Depends on what the trouble is,” Sam murmured, keeping to Steve’s left as they started moving down the stairs. “If there’s zombies, I’m bugging out.”
“...is that very likely?”
“Focus, Scott.”
Their group made it down two stories without zombies or anything else jumping out of the shadows, which could’ve been considered a good thing. But they also didn’t come across any security personnel, despite passing an empty guard station, which gave Steve a bad feeling too. Natasha took point heading down the first corridor they came to, and the sirens got louder. Underneath, Steve managed to hear distant yelling, though too distorted for him to pick out any words.
A pair of guards finally showed up, backing into the intersection ahead of them, cursing quietly as they kept their guns pointed towards- the ceiling?
Clint let his arrow fly. Natasha took down the guards before they could do anything but yelp: one knocked out by a flying kick to the head, the other pinned and restrained with his weapon tossed out of reach. “Hi there,” Steve greeted him, crouching down with a flat smile. “Don’t suppose you’d like to tell us what’s going on?”
The man’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of them, armed and uniformed and unamused. He swore, loudly, before stammering something in a language Steve didn’t know. Natasha did, thankfully, and she replied with similar rolling words. The guard shook his head, adding something else in a fearful tone.
“Apparently, they’ve had a prisoner escape,” Natasha translated. “Small, fast, attacks from above. They have orders not to kill.”
Steve grit his teeth, and heard Sam hiss with dismay. “Someone they’ve already invested time and money into, then.”
“Most likely. Any other questions for this guy?” When Steve shook his head, Natasha quickly applied a chokehold. By the time she stood back up, the rest of them had moved to positions around the intersection. “Splitting up or sticking together, Cap?”
“Together. We don’t know what this prisoner’s capable of, or what kinds of measures these people will use to get them back.” That said, he gestured for quiet, and listened as intently as he could. The shouting definitely sounded louder from one direction, and Steve’s natural inclination was to head that way- but a short, sharp slam caught his attention, from the hallways branching off to the left. “Come on.”
Lang shrank down to hitch a ride on Clint’s shoulder. He, Sam, Steve and Natasha formed a diamond shape as they moved, swiftly covering ground, using hand gestures to signal when to pause and when to go. A few more security personnel crossed their path, clearly more focused on finding the escapee than remaining alert for any other threats, and all went down fast and quiet. Then, around a corner up ahead, Steve heard someone shout- a squeal of something metallic being yanked against concrete- a sudden burst of gunfire.
He sped up, and reached the turn just in time to see a slip of a teenager toss a grown man headfirst into the wall.
A kid. These bastards decided to experiment with a kid.
In the few seconds it took Steve to throttle back his instinctive rage, the rest of his team gathered around him, all of them freezing with the same shock. And then the kid turned, and spotted them.
He flinched. He flinched away, stumbling back, until he tripped on the guard’s dropped gun and landed flat on his butt. Shaky breath sped up, only to stall completely when Steve tried taking a step forward.
“It’s okay,” he said, stopping in place. “It’s okay, son, we aren’t going to hurt you.”
“C-captain,” the kid stammered. His hands shook. His eyes were wide, pupils too large, but unerringly focused on Steve’s face. “You’re- no, I- I can’t- I-”
Natasha slid around to put herself in the kid’s line of sight. “Hey, little fella. You look past ready to get out of here, huh?”
“You’re- Widow. Black Widow.” The boy looked relieved, for whatever strange reason, but it only lasted a second before the panic came roaring back into his expression. “I can’t- they gave, gave me- a needle- I can’t, think I can’t think-”
“That’s alright,” Natasha soothed, easing a little closer. The kid didn’t flinch from her. “We’ll get you out of here and wait for it to wear off, okay?”
“‘Kay,” the kid whispered. But just as Natasha reached him, he shuddered, all over, and started to tip over. She managed to catch him before his head could hit the floor, and then Lang burst up to full size beside them.
“I’ll carry him,” the man insisted. “You guys are the better fighters, anyway.”
“Could you shrink him down?” Steve asked, still not getting close.
Lang shook his head, but then stopped and shrugged. “I mean, I could, but I’m not the expert with Pym-particles, and we don’t know what else he’s been injected with, so I’d really rather not risk any bad reactions.”
“Fair enough. Is he injured anywhere else?”
“A lot of bruises, already healing. And here-” Natasha gestured to the kid’s feet, bare and stained with fresh blood. “Looks like he walked across something sharp. Broken glass, maybe, but I can’t see any shards in the cuts.” Lang carefully reached down to grasp where she indicated, and pulled the limp kid up and over his shoulder.
“Alright,” Steve said. “New priority. We head back to the entrance, quick and quiet. Ant-Man and Falcon, get him out of here, back to the safehouse. The three of us will come back in to finish the mission once you’re clear.” The others all nodded, and they hastily retraced their steps, back to the front corridor and staircases.
Unfortunately, they didn’t make it that far.
A much larger group of guards suddenly spilled into the first intersection just before Steve reached it - at least a dozen of them, maybe fifteen, and all armed with similar weapons that fired bursts of electricity rather than bullets. His shield could still catch them, but it sizzled with each impact, and Steve’s hands started to go numb even through the thick material of his gloves. “Get back!”
Clint and Natasha continued to shoot around him. Sam found an unlocked door to yank open and led Lang through it. An explosive arrow hit the ground in front of the guards, and with the brief cessation of shooting, Steve dove through the doorway after his teammates.
They found themselves in a long room, some kind of workshop, with multiple tables full of lab equipment and bulky machinery along the walls. Another door sat at the far end; Lang darted off with the kid, Clint and Sam on either side, as Natasha helped Steve block off the door they’d come through. “Well, this isn’t going according to plan.”
He just grunted, shoving a heavy cabinet over. At least one heavy body slammed into the door, but their slapdash barrier held. For the moment.
They ran to join the others, just as Sam managed to break the other door’s lock with a swift kick. New route opened, their group slipped through - only to stop just as quickly, gathered on a walkway across a truly massive chasm. Natural stone bordered both sides, and the dim overhead lighting barely managed to penetrate the darkness below.
“Bad feeling’s worse,” Lang commented, briefly leaning a little closer. The kid groaned, twitching on his shoulder, which served to make the man backpedal for safety’s sake.
“We taking our chances on there being a way out on the other side, or making a stand?” Natasha asked, eyeing the door they’d just come through. The pursuing guards continued to shout, and Steve could hear the undercurrent sound of something cutting through the barricade.
“We take a chance,” he answered grimly. “Widow first, then Falcon. Hawkeye, you and I bring up the rear; Ant-man, keep in the middle and let us cover you.”
Each of them made a quick acknowledgement, and then they were moving - careful, but quick. No handrails bordered the edges of the walkway; no convenient signage indicating how far down the drop went.
About halfway across to the far wall, the first gunshots rang out.
Steve did what he could to alternate with Clint, blocking the bullets coming straight towards them even as arrows flew back in return. More guards spilled out onto the balcony platform around the door, though, giving them wider angles to fire at the rest of his teammates. Sam and Natasha gave a little back with their own weapons, at least, but Lang didn’t have much choice besides hunker down and keep moving.
Then the kid woke back up.
Steve’s only warning came in the form of a horrified shout from Lang, a few seconds before he felt the reverberations of something traveling under the walkway. Traveling fast.
“The hell-?” Clint barely got two words out before the kid flipped into sight, swinging himself inhumanly fast up onto the balcony. The guards weren’t any more prepared for him to come into their midst; several of them could only let loose shouts of alarm before a palm or an elbow or a foot slammed into their bodies.
Not a single one fell over the edge. Instead, the kid kept grabbing opponents he’d just knocked out, turning them into blunt force weapons against the others, tossing around people twice his size and kitted out in heavy body armor.
All too soon, no one remained standing besides the kid. He panted, short in-and-out gasps, arms still raised for combat as his eyes spun wildly, looking for the next enemy.
Steve took that moment to ease forward around Clint. Something in his head managed to click, watching the unknown teen bulldoze his way through the hostiles, and even though the mere idea of it turned his insides cold he still needed to ask- “Queens?”
The kid’s head snapped around towards him.
---
Chapter 4 of my Slush Pile fic, for all the half-written and unfinished MCU ideas I’ve had over the last, oh, decade or so. With any luck this one will eventually turn into its own standalone story, but there’s no telling how long that’ll take...
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capoftheship · 7 months
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Muevete bien (que nadie como tú me sabe hacer café) chpt. 6
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Pairings: Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton
Characters: Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers
Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, PTSD, Alpha!Bucky Barnes, Omega!Clint Barton, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Young!Clint Barton, Explicit Sexual Content, True mates -ish
Words: 30.2k
Fic Summary:
So, nothing dangerous is happening, just so you know." Bruce said reassuringly. "It just seems that you two, genetically speaking, align very well, almost perfectly."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that your body is more inclined to want to reproduce with him, because your compatibility level is extremely high.” Bruce explained, and after a moment smiled. “Or would I dare to say, you two are true mates."
AO3 link
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gingerann · 5 months
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Fics I Read This Week
Another week gone, some more fan-fics I read. List isn't as long this week.
Starling by ClaraxBarton
Marvel/DC
Bucky/Clint/Jason
Bucky is house-sitting for Natasha and bloody, half-dead guys keep showing up. Fun story.
Chickadee by ClaraxBarton
Marvel/DC
Bucky/Clint/Jason
The three of them are baking things for a school bake sale. So cute.
Dove by ClaraxBarton
Marvel/DC
Bucky/Clint/Jason
Professor Clint is confused. And wet... Fun fic.
One of Those Occasions by wanderingjedihistorian
Star Wars
Jango/Obi-Wan
Part 2 of the Dared Dream series. Jango and Obi-Wan are trying for a baby. Mostly smut.
Kal'Koora by MusicSoul1982
Star Wars
Jango/Obi-Wan
Obi-Wan is on Mandalore again. And he sort of accidentally on purpose begins a courting tradition with Jango. Neither one has an issue with this. Lovely story.
Wren by ClaraxBarton
DC/Marvel
Jason/Clint/Bucky
Urban fantasy AU. Great concept.
A Cat Among Wolves by inexplicifics
Witcher
Aiden/Lambert, Eskel/Geralt/Lambert, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, Aiden/Eskel/Geralt/Jaski1er/Lambert
Part 1 of the Cats Among Wolves series. Lambert invites Aiden to Kaer Morhen for the winter. There is a big misunderstanding, but a bigger happy ending.
Intermission 2 - Night Watch by writerx75
Bleach
Ichigo/Renji
Part 15 of the Stuck series. Ichigo and Renji watch each other sleep.
Lost Cat Found by inexplicifics
Witcher
background pairings
Part 2 of the Cats Among Wolves series. Eskel comes across an injured Gaetan and takes him home. As one does. Great story.
What the Wolf Dragged In by inexplicifics
Witcher
Jaskier/Geralt, Aiden/Lambert, Jaskier/Geralt/Eskel/Lambert/Aiden
Part 3 of the Cats Among Wolves series. Geralt finds another cat, Kiyan, held prisoner by a mage. So, he takes the cat home. Again, as one does. Great story. Great series.
Thrush by ClaraxBarton
Marvel/DC
Clint/Bucky/Jason
Soulmate AU that results in a pact not to get shot. Fun story.
Flamingo by ClaraxBarton
Marvel/DC
Clint/Bucky/Jason
Regular guy Bucky starts dating Clint and Jason. Bucky's mom demands they all come to dinner. Fucking cute as hell.
Cravings of the Soul by wanderingjedihistorian
Star Wars
Jango/Obi-Wan
Part 1 of Cherished series. Sith Obi-Wan meets his Mandalorian soulmate, Jango. Sweet and smutty.
Year of the OTP 2023 - KakaIru - Chapter 10: October by @hkandiu
Naruto
Kakashi/Iruka
Another chapter in this one! Iruka and Kakashi spend Halloween together. So friggin' cute!
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teenage-idiot · 1 year
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In the Blink of an Eye - 1
Avengers Age of Ultron | Quicksilver x Female Reader Fan-fiction.
*WARNING SPOILERS*
Contains strong language, sexual references and mentions of death. 'And in that moment, everything I knew or had known suddenly didn't matter anymore. It was like the world was moving in slow motion; everything around me was fading away, to nothing. It was as if my whole life had been leading up to this point in time, and now it was finally here, the rest was irrelevant. All I could focus on was this exact moment, this second in time; a snapshot of my existence. It felt like forever, but in reality it had all happened so fast. In the blink of an eye, everything had changed.'
592 words
CHAPTER 1
My feet smacked on the hard tarmac as I ran though the dark alley. I was running for my life. I don't know who, or why but I was being chased. Maybe they were Hydra, but they didn't look like it. I knew Hydra and I knew that they didn't look like...that. No, this was different, they were different, but then again, so was I. I don't know how they found me, but they did, and now I was running as fast as I could down a pitch black alleyway at two o'clock in the morning. No matter. Either way, they were still after me.
"She went down here," I heard a voice say. It was a man's voice, of that I was certain, but that wasn't really going to help me figure out who these people were. I kept running, turning left and right at every opportunity, hoping to lose them every time, but no such luck. I could hear two of them talking behind me. I couldn't gain much from their conversation though.
"Cap, you got eyes on her?"
"Yep, she's right in front of me, but man, she's pretty fast."
I came to a wire fence, which I climbed over with ease, however there was now a building straight in front of me and nowhere else to turn. The building did have a small metal balcony though, which I could climb up and onto. It looked like an old house that hadn't been inhabited in years. I raced towards it and jumped up grabbing onto the hard, cold edge of the balcony, pulling myself up until my feet were safely on it too. Climbing over the railings I entered the house. I turned so I could see back out the way I came in. I was pacing backwards slowly, and I could see no movement from outside, but I knew better than to let my guard down. At that moment I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders. Without hesitation I elbowed them square in the jaw and whipped around to face my opponent. She was quite tall, with short, red hair and a pretty face. She didn't react to what I'd done, but instead just stood there watching me, as if she was waiting for me to fall into some sort of trap. She put her hand up to her ear and spoke.
"We got her. Second floor. I'm with her now."
She spoke in such a way that I couldn't determine whether what she said meant imminent death, or being taken away and locked up, like before. I heard something behind me, and I turned my head to see a man in a red, white and blue suit coming in from the balcony, followed by another man dressed in all black, carrying a bow. I looked back at the girl and she was no longer alone, but had another girl standing next to her. The second girl had long brown hair and was wearing a red leather jacket. They were definitely not Hydra.
I stood there for a while, turning to look at each one of them again in turn. What seemed like forever, in reality was only a matter of seconds, and I'd made my choice. I turned and ran towards the glass window, bursting through it, glass pieces shattering all around me. The fall was hard, and I tried to pick myself up, but failed miserably. I soon felt a strong pair of arms wrap around me and pick me up before blacking out.
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a/n - this is something i started writing years ago and only uploaded to wattpad originally, but i finally decided to continue writing after a loooooong break and also post it here as well! so hopefully you guys enjoy woo :)
- t
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I just updated a fic I started 6 years ago 🥴
Go check it out if unfinished, slowly updated ClinTasha is what you’re into
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scottyrider · 8 months
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More Between Us - Amerihawk Fic Part 2
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More Between Us - Scottyrider - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own] The sequel and likely conclusion of my Clint Barton & Steve Rogers fan fic is here, titled "More Between Us"!  With full images to visualize it! "After a night Steve Rogers and Clint Barton will never forget, duty calls as a new threat rises, the kingdom of Wakanda calls for the assistance of the Avengers to help stop Klaw and his new alliance with AIM. During this new mission, Clint and Steve will ponder if there is more between them, or if it was all simply the heat of the moment. A journey of acceptance, love and of course sex. The Following story takes place during Marvel’s Avengers (Videogame) War of Wakanda Expansion. It is rated Explicit for some sexual content mainly toward the end!
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shelbgrey · 1 year
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Ummm....
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Q: Who's your Comfort character?
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onceuponmydaydreams · 2 years
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You can have my soul (I don't need it anymore)
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Summary: Kate comes face to face with the Ronin, and nothing could have prepared her for the truth that this tragedy has made of her favourite person.
Pairings: Hawkeye Squared, Clint Barton x Kate Bishop
Warnings: Explicit, Dark, Dubious Consent, Older Man/Younger Woman, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Age Difference, Rough Sex, Crying, Dubious Morality, Dark!Clint Barton
Her lips are shiny now, her cheeks are still tear stained, her nose a little red, and she feels amazing pressed up against him, her hair soft and divine between his fingers, and he’s already half-hard, rubbing up against her. Her eyelids flutter, and he has to get a grip, because she’s just a kid, he reminds himself, young and strong and so, so exquisite. In another life, he wouldn’t do this, he would stop. In another life, he wouldn’t have started.  
But here, he was no such qualms, because he’d completely taken leave of his moral compass. Dropped it somewhere back in Iowa and didn’t bother to pick it back up. 
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stasiachan14 · 2 years
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