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my-friends-in-bantry · 1 year

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Cory McBrown: Year 2 - Chapter 2

14th of December, 2002

The next morning, I go to Sam and John’s to find John busy baking.

“Whatcha up to?” I ask him.

“Since we only get four pre-Christmas days off from school, I’m getting a jump start on baking over the weekend,” he answers, stirring some batter.

“Which one is this?”

“Mousse.” John answers.

I make a face. I have never heard of a 14 year old who made mousse on their own. “Is it eggy?”

“Aye, so no taste until I finish it.” John warns.

“Is Sam around? We were gonna go skating on the pond.”

John gives me an injured look. “Skating? I wanna go.”

“What about your baking?”

John looks at his mousse. “Well… I can put it in the oven and ask the Conways to watch it.”

I nod. “Okay. Just meet us there.”

Sam comes downstairs. “Hey. Ready to go?”

“Aye, of course.”

We head out the door. The pond is a really nice, calm, peaceful place. There isn’t a lot of snow here, but the pond is frozen and the trees are frosty. It does get cold here.

Putting our skates on, I ask Sam: “You coming over to help decorate the tree tonight?”

“Can’t. Harry and I are going on a date.”

I sigh. There’s that word again. It’s starting to feel like a four-letter-word. “Tomorrow, then?”

Sam nods. “Aye, I should be able to do it tomorrow,” she says, standing up.

“Can I ask you what is so important about dating?” I ask as she helps me up.

“Well, besides the fact that the population would come to a screeching halt if nobody dated, it’s another way of making important connections with people,” she tells me.

I frown. “You’re making deep connections with Harry Barton? Doesn’t it seem like you could do better?” That sounded more judgmental once I said it out loud.

Sam gives me a look. “Well, at 14, I’m not actually mature enough for deep connections like that. So right now I just play the field- figure out what kinds of people I like. Harry Barton is a stepping stone to someone even better next time.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Stepping stone? Last year you said you’d tied him down.”

“I was 13. It’s normal for a 13 year old to have wholly unrealistic expectations of love.”

I decide I want to stop having this conversation, so I say: “Wanna have an ice-skate race?”

Sam perks up. “You know I do!”

We both stand up and get on the ice, lining up exactly with each other.

“On your mark, get set, go!” I say.

We both start skating as fast as we can, being careful not to fall or bump into each other. We both learned in 4th class that if we tried to check each other, there’s no guarantee that only one of us falls down, so what’s the point?

Pretty soon, Sam starts pulling ahead of me. She plays ice hockey, and I don’t, so her thighs are a bit stronger than mine. Still, I exert as much strength as I can to catch up to her. I’m totally winded, but I still try. Apparently she wasn’t using all her strength, because she starts skating faster.

“Three laps around?” she says.

I’m breathing heavily, exerting in the heavy, cold air. “Sure,” I say anyway.

We round the whole pond once. All told it probably took one whole minute, but it felt like five. Lap two felt like ten. By lap three it felt like my calves were on fire.

Just then, John shows up. “What are you guys doing?”

I lose my focus and end up skating right into Sam, which sends us both flying into a pile of snow on the side of the pond.

Sam sits up. “Are you okay?”

I spit out a mouthful of snow. “Aye, fine.”

“What were you guys doing?” John asks.

“Having an ice-skate race,” Sam says. “Three laps around the pond.”

“We still have at least ten feet,” I point out.

Sam notices this, and she scrambles up. However, I was already up, standing on the ice. With my last burst of energy and muscle ability, I make a bee line for the tree we used as our finish line. Then the worst happens! Both legs give out, and I fall forward. Sam skates on by.

“Victory is mine!” She says.

“I’m okay,” I say, a touch of snark in my voice.

Sam skates back over. “Sorry. Are you hurt?”

I stand up. “Not really. Just tired.”

“Um, I apologize, but I have a judge rule,” John says.

Sam gives him a look. “And that would be?”

“Technically, Cory’s hands and torso crossed the finish line as she fell, and she slid over the line before you crossed it.”

Sam looks at him in disbelief. John looks like he’s going to melt. “What? I’m just trying to be fair.”

Sam looks at me. Then she sighs. “Fine. You win. Congratulations.” We high five.

By that time it was starting to get dark, I was actually really cold, and Sam had to go get ready for her date.

So John called his girlfriend, Trudy, and asked if she wanted to hang out with us at my house.

Of course, she said yes. She seems pretty fond of John. I can understand why. John’s one of my favorite people in the world. He’s always there for you when you need him, but not at his own expense, and not for advice. But if silliness is what’s needed he always has some of it. He’s quirky and funny and cute.

Wait- did I just say cute? Is John cute to me? Does this mean I have a crush on John? I look over at him. The three of us are cutting snowflakes out of paper. Nah. That’d be like kissing my brother. Which, no!

John is just one of my very good friends, one I hope I have forever. We continue to make snowflakes and talk about various things: school, holidays, but not crushes. I told them both I’d like to steer clear of that topic.

15th of December, 2002

The next evening, we get all of our decorations out and start decorating the tree. John was very nice to make us some chocolate chip cookies, and I pour everyone eggnog. I sprinkle nutmeg into some, but not everyone’s. The one thing Edward and Bart seem to be able to agree on is they don’t like nutmeg in their eggnog. Bart told me one time he accidentally inhaled the spice and panicked because he read about how dangerous it is to eat straight cinnamon. I really don’t think choking on one piece of nutmeg one time did much to hurt him. He seems fine.

I take the eggnogs to everyone, while John hands out cookies.

“How did your date with Harry go, Sam?” Mum asks.

Sam blushes a little, which is unusual for her. “Good. We’re talking about going all the way.”

I almost choke on my eggnog. Bart actually does.

John goes beet red. “Why?” Edward asks. “You’re only 14.”

“And he’s 15. It’s not like I don’t know how to be prepared and safe. Brienna taught me all about that.” Sam defends.

Edward looks at Brienna. She gives him a look. “You knew I was open when you married me. I’ve never told these kids anything they didn’t ask about. And you guys should know these things. You’re reaching an age where this will start to become part of your life, and you’ll be miles ahead of everyone else if you know how to explore it safely.”

Yuck, I think. I don’t want that to be a part of my life. Not yet anyways. They may be right, that may change, but it’s not changing now.

“I’m still not sure 14 is a good age to start.” Edward says.

“Well, Sam’s right. He’s 15, and it sounds like they’re having respectful conversations about it, and if they’re safe and responsible, I don’t see the issue.” Mum argues.

Edward thinks for a moment. “It’s different for lads.”

Mum gives him another look. I know that look. Edward’s stepped in it. I laugh silently. “Exactly how is it different for lads?”

“Well… It’s safer for one thing.”

“That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard.” Mum says.

“Well, not because of any lad or girl thing, but I wasn’t ready at 14.” Bart says. “I didn’t do it until last month.”

Sam looks at Bart. “Really???” Now I turn beet red. I did not need to know that.

“Aye, I wasn’t ready.”

“You’ve been in a relationship since you were a 4th year.” Sam says.

“So what?”

“Look, everyone is ready at their own pace,” Mum says. “Everyone can say their piece, but ultimately, it’s Sam and Harry’s choice whether or not they’re ready.”

Well, this is one of the most excruciating conversations I’ve ever had, so I was relieved when we continued decorating the tree. As per the usual, one of the ornaments fell and broke. That’s happened to us every year since I was probably three. This time it’s Jenny who drops it. She has been officially initiated into our family tradition of breaking shiny glass ornaments.

#my friends in bantry #bantry #ireland #2002 #2000s nostalgia #early 2000s #2000s #cory mcbrown #coming of age #my writing #writers #writing #writer things #writerscommunity #female writers

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ghostofskywalker · 2 years

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Something Brewing Between Us

Clint Barton/Reader

Words: 1,708

Summary: Okay, so maybe you had a crush on one of the Avengers that frequented the coffee shop where you work, but you would never say anything to him about it. Not unless he felt the same way of course.

Requested By: anonymous

Clint Barton Masterlist

The bells hanging from the door jingled brightly, and you looked up to see your favorite customer walk in. “Morning Y/N,” he said, a smile on his face.

“Morning Clint,” you smiled. “The usual for you today?”

“You know me, no surprises. I’m as boring as ever.”

“I don’t know if you could ever be classified as boring,” you said as you rung his order into the system. “Not when you’ve helped save the world, which is something not a lot of people can claim they did.”

“If you saw how much time I spent in my pajamas you might be singing a different tune.”

“I think you could probably say the same thing about me,” you said. “But I’ll give you a pass because you’re a superhero.”

“Thanks,” he said, sending you a smile that made your heart feel fuzzy.

He was the only customer in the store, so you started to chat a little as you were pouring his coffee. “Got any big plans coming up?” you asked.

“Next week Stark Industries is hosting this gala,” he said, and you could tell he wasn’t that excited about it. “And we all have to go.”

“Why do the Avengers have to go if it’s a Stark Industries thing?”

“That is exactly what I asked Tony, and I didn’t get a straight answer!” he said. “So I’m stuck going.”

“That sucks,” you said, handing him his cup of coffee. “Hopefully you’ll get some good food out of it though.”

He chuckled, but before he could respond, the bells on the door jingled again, and another customer walked in. You thought you had a little more time to talk to Clint, but two more customers walked in as well, and you had to wave goodbye. Right as he walked out the door, your coworker Jen emerged from where she was putting away the delivery to help you, so thankfully you didn’t have to rush that much.

When the cafe was finally empty again, Jen turned to you with a smile on her face. “So, I heard your boyfriend out there earlier,” she said, a shit-eating grin on her face. “How’s he doing?”

“First of all, he’s not my boyfriend,” you said, shooting her a glare. Somehow, she had gotten it through her head that you two liked each other. And you didn’t want to admit it, but she wasn’t wrong about you liking him. The feelings in your heart for the kind-eyed archer had been growing more by the day, and it didn’t help that he’d been coming into the cafe more often recently. She was very wrong however, about him reciprocating those feelings, and you were sure of it. He has never once shown interest in you as anyone other than the person who makes his coffee (one large hot coffee with a little milk, every time) and talks to him about how his day is going. “And second, he’s complaining about some gala he has to go to as an Avenger.”

“A gala you say?” Jen’s eyes widened and her smile only got bigger. “Are you sure he wasn’t trying to ask you to be his date?”

“Absolutely not,” you scoffed. “There’s no way.”

“Come on Y/N, he’s liked you since the day you met! You seriously can’t be in denial about this.”

“Obviously you’re losing your memory then,” you said. “Because that’s definitely not how I remember the day I met him.”

You finally had a chance to breathe for what felt like the first time all day, because the cafe had been a lot busier than normal. Businessmen in muted suits who couldn’t even bother to look up from their phone as they ordered were a constant presence, as were stay at home moms running their errands and college students scrambling to finish an assignment the day before it’s due. You liked the atmosphere of the coffee shop and overall you liked your job, but it wasn’t always perfect.

It was halfway through your shift, and you were so tired and frazzled that you didn’t even realize that there was a customer standing in front of you. “I’m so sorry!” you said, mentally scolding yourself and hoping that he wasn’t waiting too long for you to notice him. “What can I get you today?”

The man seemed like he wasn’t paying attention either, and eventually he registered that you were talking to him. “Oh, just one large hot coffee please, with a little milk, and a chocolate chip muffin.”

“Not a problem,” you said, pushing the corresponding buttons on the register to ring him up. “That will be $4.50.”

After he paid, you handed him his coffee and muffin and he nodded at you, walking out the door. The moment he disappeared though, you realized who it was you just served, and you kicked yourself for not realizing sooner. But in your defense, you didn’t have any reason to expect that Hawkeye would be coming into the shop today. You knew that Avengers tower was a few blocks away, but you always assumed that they were provided with everything they could ever want, making coffee runs unnecessary. “Hey Jen!” you said to the other barista working with you, who was just coming out of the back room. She was the one who trained you, and she also happened to be one of the nicest people you’ve ever met. “Is is normal for the Avengers to show up here, or did I just meet a superhero that I’ll never see again?”

“Who was it?”

“Hawkeye.”

She laughed. “No, you’ll probably see him here fairly often. Him and Black Widow tend to stop here for coffee or food, and occasionally Captain America is with them. I haven’t seen any of the others stop in the entire time I’ve worked here, even though Marni swears Thor winked at her one day.”

***

Clint was two steps away from his bedroom when he heard Natasha’s voice. “Did you ask that barista out yet?”

He resisted the urge to turn off his hearing aids and just take a nap, so he didn’t have to hear Natasha’s inevitable lecture. “It wasn’t the right time,” he said, turning around to look at her.

Natasha’s face had a look of disappointment, and she raised her eyebrows. They’ve had this exact conversation before, and he wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up having this conversation again somewhere down the line. “No time is going to be perfect you know,” she said.

“I know, but I don’t want to feel forced. How would you like it if someone asked you on a date while you were working?”

“It’s not like you have any other time to ask. And besides, you still don’t have a plus one for that Stark Industries shindig, and I wouldn’t want to see it go to waste.”

Clint groaned. “But that’s next week.”

“Then I would get moving and ask already Barton.” The use of his last name meant that she was serious, and Clint knew that he needed to just listen. He had liked you ever since you met, and now he was spending a lot of money of coffee that he could just as easily get from one of the many machines Tony provided, but he really went to the cafe just to see you. He mentioned the gala last time he was in, just to see how you reacted, but you didn’t seem to catch onto his intentions, and he was interrupted before he had started asking you out.

The very next day, he found himself sweating slightly as he stepped through the doors, and he barely even heard the sound of the bells jingling above him. “Hey Clint!” you said, smiling at him. “Do you want the usual, or is today the day you’re finally going to switch it up?”

The fact that there wasn’t anyone else in the cafe other than you and him was the only saving grace for this moment, because it definitely wasn’t Clint’s finest. “Doyouwanttogoonadatewithme?” he asked, talking so fast you could barely hear him.

“I’m sorry?” you said, your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “I didn’t quite get that.”

Clint took a deep breath before speaking again. “What I was trying is ask is if you would want to go on a date with me.”

You stopped, your mind clearly reeling from his words, and the room was dead quiet. Clint very quickly decided that silence was worse than rejection, because this was the worst feeling in the world. He had half a mind to turn around and never come back, save him from the embarrassment of ever having to talk to you again, after so grossly misreading the situation, but your voice pulled him out of his head. “Yes,” you said, and it was the nicest word he’d ever heard. “I will-”

Your words were interrupted by a new presence in the conversation, your coworker, who marched herself from the back room, grinning ear to ear. “You absolutely will go on a date with him,” she said to you, and Clint had to stifle a laugh. “And with that, I also think it’s time for your break.”

“Wait, I-” you started to say, but it was no use. Your coworker had already untied the back of your apron and practically shoved you out from behind the counter.

Clint just laughed as he watched, and soon the room was empty again, your coworker back to whatever she was doing before this. “I also wanted to ask if you’d come to the Stark Industries gala with me,” he said as you led him to the corner of the cafe and you sat down at a small table.

“Can we go somewhere else first?” you asked quietly. “The idea of meeting all the Avengers on a first date is a little overwhelming. I’ve only met like three superheroes in my life, counting you.”

Clint laughed. “Of course. How about we go to dinner tonight? I can pick you up at 8.”

You smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

He would have to thank Natasha, but he could worry about that later. For now, he had much better company to think about.

- the end -

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #clint barton x y/n #clint barton x you #clint barton x gender neutral reader #marvel #marvel x reader #hawkeye x reader

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demonsonthemoon · 3 years

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Standing on the Edge / We’re Already Falling

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton Word Count: 3499 Rating: M Summary: Clint doesn't do romantic relationships. Bucky doesn't do sex. But they do do something together. One night, Clint has a request. "Do you mind if I jerk off?" Featuring akoiromantic!Clint. Notes: If you are here expecting smut you might be disappointed because the smut I was planning to write disappeared in between whole paragraphs of introspection. STORY OF MY LIFE. This fic has been sitting in my draft for more than a year and I STILL had to rush it to post it in time for #AggressivelyArospecWeek, so apologies if it is super wonky and there are typos everywhere. This is vaguely inspired by personal experiences and fantasies, because relationships are fascinating and I like to self-reflect. Also please note that I'm allosexual and the perspective I have on asexuality is totally external. So if you have any comments about the way I wrote it that might further my understanding of asexuality and help me write it better, let me know! Content warnings: Bucky's asexuality in this is explored partly in relation to his history of abuse so if that sounds squicky or triggering to you, be careful!

Read it on AO3.

The feeling of Bucky's lips on his wasn't anything new to Clint. That didn't mean that the pleasure of it was wearing off, far from it. First kisses were never the best. No, the really good one only came after, when you knew what the other person liked and they knew your preferences as well. When you could play each other like finally tuned instruments to elicit your favorite sounds at will. Those were the best kisses.

The one they were sharing now was quite high-ranking on that scale, at least according to Clint's opinion. They were both freshly clean from a shower, and Clint was quickly letting go of all the tension from the mission he'd just come back from. He was finally reaching the good side of pent-up where sensations were pleasurably heightened but not making him paranoid. Then there was the fact that Bucky was softly biting on his lower lip and had a hand in Clint's hair. Yeah. It was a pretty good kiss.

“Fuck,” Clint whispered at they broke apart for hair. They didn't go far from one another, just hovering on that edge of kissing again. Clint had a hand on Bucky's face, softly running a thumb over his stubble, the other over his hip.

Bucky smiled, then kissed him again. It was funny. Clint swore his lips tasted different when he smiled. It was one of his favorite flavors.

This thing between them hadn't always been that easy. There had been a time when Bucky's only two moods were “shadow in the corner” and “murder glare,” which had not been conducive to much physical intimacy. (Not that Clint had been unwilling. Everyone who knew him was aware of his attraction to danger.) It had taken a while for Bucky to become comfortable, both with himself and with the people also living on the Avengers compound. Clint had understood that. The guy had been through a lot. He'd still barely remembered who he was when he'd turned himself in after a year of leading Steve and Sam around on a merry chase.

But he'd gotten around to it. The whole being a person thing. Being something other than a weapon.

Yes, Clint had been a little protective of him. Still was. He could relate to the guy. A few days of alien brainwashing was obviously different to a few decades of being Hydra's puppet, but it still gave them more common grounds than most of the other Avengers.

They'd started getting along, and then they had started getting along, and now Clint was shirtless and kissing Bucky in his bed and it all felt really nice.

Really really nice.

“Shit, fuck,” Clint whimpered against Bucky's mouth, drawing away slightly. “Wait a sex- sec. I have a question.”

The beginning of their relationship (Clint always made a face at the word, but he hadn't found any other one that fit) had involved a lot of awkward conversations about boundaries. Clint had been on the verge of e-mailing his therapist about it several times. She would have been so proud. Clint wasn't ready to admit that, but it had felt nice for once not to be the only one tiptoeing around a minefield. That's what it had felt like in a lot of his other relationships, and most of his other partners hadn't been subtle in letting him know it was his fault.

Bucky didn't make him feel like it was his fault. He had plenty of minefields of his own and seemed grateful to have Clint here to help him figure out their layouts.

It had almost been funny when they'd realized how little they matched one another.

Clint didn't do romance. He'd learned the hard way that however much he liked the person at first, and even continued to like them, in a way, he couldn't sustain romantic attraction for much more than a few weeks into a relationship. And the pressure of a romantic relationship was just too much for him to handle. After a series of self-sabotaged messes and a divorce, he'd been forced to admit that it wasn't worth trying anymore. He'd mostly resigned himself to one-night stands and the occasional cuddle with a friend. Wanting regular physical and emotional intimacy outside of a romantic relationship just wasn't something he figured he could get.

Bucky, on the other hand, was totally open to the pursuit of romance. At least as much as someone with such severe trust issues as he had could be. But he didn't really do sex. At least not for now.

It had been kind of funny to find all of that out, but also not at all. Clint was very happy that they'd decided to figure something out anyway. He'd been even happier when the something in question had turned out to involve having a close friend he could regularly make out with but who didn't pressure him into being with each other all the time, being wooed or going on dates.

Their relationship probably looked like weird and misshapen from any outside perspective, and sometimes even from Clint's, when his nerves were too raw or his mind was too numb and he looked at the universe and only saw the result of his failures. But it was theirs, and whenever Clint felt like his skin was his own again, he found he was willing to fight for it.

It was a weird yo-yo motion, with a string that threatened to snap every so often, but so far it was still turning.

Clint couldn't help himself, and he gave Bucky another peck on the lips. Just to erase the frown that had formed on his forehead as he'd pulled away from their kiss.. “Don't worry. There's no good or bad answer here.” He tried to keep his tone confident and casual. Spy training came in handy in these kinds of situation. Of course, the fact that Bucky was just as well trained meant he could usually read through Clint's bullshit, but well. One had to try.

Clint took a breath, and smiled. “Do you mind if I jerk off?”

Bucky froze against Clint's hands. His eyes widened just the slightest bit.

And then he looked down at Clint's crotch, and the blond bit down on his own lip to avoid letting out a thoroughly undignified squeak. The outline of his erection was clearly visible through the worn material of his post-shower sweatpants. Bucky somehow seemed surprised by it, even though there was no way he hadn't felt it rub against him at any point of the previous proceedings.

Clint felt a blush rise to his cheeks. He wasn't embarrassed about sex. He didn't think that was what it was. He was just very aware of the request he'd just made and the fact that Bucky's attention was still lingering on his cock.

“You don't have to say yes. I really don't mind if we just make out some more and cuddle. I just thought... Well. I just thought that if you didn't have to... participate, you might still like to watch?” The blood in his cheeks was quickly approaching boiling point. “Or not. I don't know. I just thought I'd ask.”

Clint forced himself to close his mouth and stop talking before he fell into a spell of ill-advised chatter. For a few excruciating seconds, Bucky stayed silent. At least he was looking into Clint's eyes again, instead of at his dick. Small mercies.

“Is that something that you would like? If I watched?”

“Um.” Clint swallowed. The fact that Bucky's gaze followed the movement of his Adam's apple was enough to force him to admit he didn't want to lie. “Yeah. Yeah. I'd... I think I'd like that a lot.”

Clint didn't know what reaction he'd expected at that. A joke perhaps. Or at least a raised eyebrow. He hadn't expected Bucky to move forward like a hunting animal jumping on his prey and kiss him. Clint opened his mouth and let the kiss deepen. He wasn't an idiot, he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to get kissed passionately by Bucky just because he was confused. So he moved one arm over Bucky's shoulder, found a better angle and kissed back, giving as much as he got.

He hadn't lied when he'd said he could do just this for hours. Who cared if it made him feel like an awkward teenager again, one who was all too happy to agree to “no sex on the first date” because he didn't know how to tell his at the time girlfriend that he hadn't ever touched a condom in his life.

Clint wasn't frustrated. He jerked off a healthy amount, and in the time between he got to hang out with Bucky and get kissed senseless. There was really no drawback to this situation.

And sure, Clint had desires. Fantasies. There were many things he thought about while he jerked off, and quite a few of them inlvoved Bucky in different stages of nakedness and with various amounts of their naked skins touching. But he also had fantasies about a lot of people he had never had and would never have sex with, and that was fine. He was friends with Bucky, and his comfort whenever they spent time together was a lot more important than Clint's libido.

But he had wondered if maybe... If there could be a way to get more of what he wanted without pushing any of Bucky's boundaries. He already felt bad for not being able to give Bucky everything he wanted, everything that he deserved. Bucky should get to be with someone who would go on dates with him, who would kiss him in the rain and hold his hand it public, and whisper I am so glad that you're my boyfriend against his ear. After all the ways he'd been used and abused, Bucky deserved the certainty of someone who loved him in all ways, all the time.

And Clint wasn't that someone. Clint couldn't give himself to someone in that way without feeling trapped, without tainting the beauty of every gesture with his own fear of being controlled.

Asking for this, for this selfish thing that wasn't sex but was so so close, it was a dangerous thing. It felt like taking something more, and Clint had never felt like he deserved anything in his life, not most of the bad, but not really any of the good either, and he didn't want to be that person who just took and took from someone who had already lost so much, but Bucky had always told him to just ask and he had, and Bucky was still kissing him like there was no other way to say what he meant to say and-

“Okay,” Bucky panted when he finally pulled away far enough to form words. “I think I want to see that.”

And, fuck, this was definitely something that Clint had fantasized about before, that's why he brought it up, but his imagination paled before the real thing, before the livewire tension all across his body and the way Bucky looked hungry in a way he'd never had before, and then Clint was being pushed back against the pillows of the bed and Bucky was slowly peeling off his sweatpants to expose the boxers underneath and this was all too much already. Bucky looked so smug about it too, like this was a perfectly normal things for them to do, like anything below the belt wasn't an entirely new territory for them. Bucky settled cross-legged on the end of the bed opposite to Clint, and tilted his head in a sort of go-ahead gesture. There was such open curiosity in his eyes, and Clint hadn't known that that was something that did it for him, but it really, truly was.

In all of his fantasies, he hadn't had to think about how to jerk off, he'd already been doing it as he set the scene in his head. He had felt a certain thrill at the idea of being watched, but none of the nervousness that came from putting on a show. And that probably wasn't what Bucky even expected from him, but Clint still felt weird. It felt like the worst case of stage fright he'd had since his first performance in the circus when he'd been a teenager.

Clint took a deep breath. He looked up into Bucky's eyes, carefully trained on his, and slowly pulled his boxers off.

*****

Bucky could tell that Clint was nervous. He wanted to so something about it, but he had no idea how. Clint had been the one to offer this, to ask for this, and Bucky was just along for the ride. A ride he definitely thought he would enjoy, but he also couldn't be sure, and he didn't want to push Clint but didn't want to stay totally detached either and...

And Clint was now touching his dick, hand in a loose fist around it, going up and down, thumb brushing over the head to gather a few drops of precome. And he was staring at Bucky as he did all that, worrying his bottom lip and staring at Bucky like he held all of the answers in the world.

He was surprised at how big the urge to touch was. He wanted to put his mouth on Clint's and bite down, bite properly instead of whatever Clint was doing to deal with his nervousness. He wanted to put a hand in Clint's hair and lick along the side of his neck and then look down at where his hand was still moving on his cock.

But he didn't do any of that, even though he had before (except for the looking part), because if he did he might trip on his own boundaries, might trigger that trapwire inside himself that made him retreat.

So he just watched instead, held Clint's gaze when it met his.

This was a new things for the two of them, but at the same time... it wasn't. Not really. Because this wasn't about sex. Sex was something that Bucky felt totally detached from on a good day, and on a bad one it was something that made him nervous, made his stomach twist and weigh heavily.

He couldn't explain why, because he hadn't ever had a particularly bad experience with it. At least he didn't think so. (He hated that he still wasn't sure, couldn't be sure, because so many memories had been taken from him and he couldn't ever know if he had gotten all of them back.)

What he remembered, at least, wasn't bad, although it wasn't good. Bucky could see himself, another person in another time, lying in fresh grass with a girl, her perfume just heavy enough to make him slightly light-headed, to take the edge off the feeling of wrongness he was experiencing as he touched her, let her touch him. He could feel the purely physical pleasure of the act, perfunctory, but nothing else.

This thing right now with Clint was nothing like that, because it wasn't about the sex. It was about Clint and it was about pleasure, but physicality was only one tiny part of this equation.

Bucky watched Clint's hand run up hand down his cock, and he didn't wish that it was his instead, but that didn't stop him from being fascinated by the movement, by the way Clint's dick responded, hardening further, and by the quiet sounds that caught in his throat.

A thought crossed his mind, and Bucky stood up. The fact that Clint immediately stopped moving made him feel... something. It reminded him that, yeah, Clint was masturbating, but this thing still actively involved Bucky. And Bucky let himself be involved, since he ruffled through his nightstand and threw Clint a half bottle of lube. Clint's eyes widened even as he caught the bottle easily. A soldier's reflexes. “You-”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

“I don't have the same libido as you, but I've still got enough experience to know it's better when it doesn't chafe.”

“Right,” Clint replied, scratching the back of his head in an embarrassed gesture. The combination of that and his erection sticking out made him look completely ridiculous, but Bucky only smiled in endearment.

He settled back at the foot of the bed, crosses his legs and make a vague gesture with his hand.

“As you were,” he said with a smirk.

Clint stared, mouth agape. “You...” He chuckled. “You are such an asshole.”

Bucky didn't deny it, but he also noticed that Clint wasn't too bothered, pouring lube into his right hand and carefully warming it up. He looked slightly uncertain again, slowly touching his own dick. Bucky didn't say anything, but he watched. That's what Clint had asked for. That he watch.

Clint worried his lower lip and hummed in his throat as he worked up a rhythm again, and Bucky watched.

He liked Clint's hands, the calluses on his fingers, the various scars from knife fights and careless handling of arrows. He liked them for the stories they told, the one that had been erased from his own fingertips by serum and metal. It was something he kept to himself, unlike Clint who took great pleasure in telling Bucky how hot he looked and which pants he should keep wearing because they framed his thighs just right. Bucky didn't look at Clint's hands like Clint sometimes did his, with a far-away intensity in his eyes and his mouth just the slighest bit open. But that was okay.

Clint didn't look at him like he wanted to be what made Bucky happy, his everything, his forever, with a yearning to share as much of the other's life as he could. But Bucky...

Bucky looked up into Clint's eyes, scared of everything his own could say, but it felt like the other man could hardly see him, too caught up in the movement of his own hand and the sensations that ran through his body. It didn't make Bucky feel alone, though. Quite the opposite. Clint was including him in a moment that could so easily have been private and it was thrilling, it made Bucky feel powerful and wanting. Bucky could have touched, Clint probably would have liked him to touch him, and Bucky felt his arms strain towards the other man, but stayed still. This made the moment feel purer, safer, better somehow, and Bucky didn't get it, not really, but then again, there were so many things he didn't get about Clint and his relationship, this was just one more thing on the list.

Another fragile compromise, another precarious equilibrium, just like everything that had followed that fateful “Can I kiss you?” during a conversation that had felt half like a fight and also like the most comfortable Bucky had been in years, because Clint hadn't been scared of him and he hadn't been careful, and he had asked to kiss him and Bucky had said yes.

And barely seconds after their lips had touched, Clint had said “Okay, this doesn't have to go anywhere, but in case it goes anywhere, we need to set boundaries,” and Bucky had thought “I think I might love you.”

These days, he tried his best not to say it aloud, but he thought Clint still understood it sometimes, like right now when Bucky had finally reached out and kissed Clint one more, and the other man's hip had thrust up twice before he came, one hand grappling at Bucky's shoulder and gripping his shirt. He was panting into Bucky's mouth, eyes wide and a little scared, and Bucky kissed him again until Clint whined, louder than any sound he'd made as he orgasmed, and Bucky couldn't help but be selfishly pleased by that.

He felt warm and relaxed. For once, the arousal coiled in his gut didn't feel uncomfortable, there was no pressure for it to go anywhere.

He pulled away, and watched as Clint carefully got his breathing back to normal. “Thanks,” the blond said, a slightly pathetic attempt at filling the silence between them.

“You're welcome,” Bucky replied, too quiet and not snarky enough, but they both smile and pretended not to know what had been said behind the word. They didn't destroy the balance.

Clint looked at his hand and made a face, and Bucky pushed him out of bed with a laugh, telling him to clean up. He chucked off his own shirt, which was stained by Clint's come and oh, what a strange thought that was. And then he settled into bed.

He was pretty sure Clint would join him, tonight, though he didn't always. If he was lucky, they'd have breakfast the next day. He didn't expect to see much of Clint for the rest of the day after that though, but that was okay.

It was an equilibrium.

#AggressivelyArospecWeek #Meeni writes fics #Winterhawk #Clint Barton #Bucky Barnes

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angelkurenai · 4 years

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Imagine Steve wanting to introduce you, his fiance, to his friends for a long time but hesitating because he hasn’t told them something about your past and how you met. You were once his student.

“And then I tell him that if he wants 'em, he can come and have 'em since he knows my place. Simple as that. In what way, shape or form is that considered insulting? Pepper didn't let me hear the end of it!” Tony was sitting in the white couch, as expected, waved his hands animatedly; effectively earning everyone's attention in the room. More than one carefully eyeing the cup of coffee in his one hand, one of whom being the owner of the office and therefore said white couch.

“Tony” was however the only warning he got this time because, luckily for him, said owner was busy between his files and a chaos going on through his mind and heart. Mind due to work, mostly, and heart due to more personal issues both for good and less good reasons.

“And you think she's without reason?” Natasha raised an eyebrow at her friend.

“I think she's without reason to be so overdramatic. She's fussing over everything these days and I don't even want to think about the way she'll react when I tell her about the party. With all the guests and the preparations, and f course drinks I'll be the one to choose because Stark Industries owes this much to friends and colleagues, but I'm-” he paused, as if being striked by an idea – how not surprising – in the middle of his rambling. This time it was to look, or more specifically, glare at his friend wo didn't notice something was up until silence had set into the room.

“Rogers!” he nearly exclaimed, not a second after they'd made eye-contact, not tat it lasted long because Steve couldn't help but glance at his phone – you hadn't texted him all day and he wasn't clingy but that wasn't how it was between you two – much as he wanted to not look away from Tony because who knows what would be said his way or thrown.

“You're Rogers? Why, Tony, you are the fiance after all?” Clint joked, toying with a pencil as if it were a drumstick “And you got married without telling us too? Oh wow.”

“Oh I'd be a handful for him, trust me. We already argue too much for that but-” he jumped up from his seat as he stalked his friend's desk, eyes narrowed at him “That was exactly what I had in mind: Steve's wonderful fiance who has oh-so-accidentally missed every single party I've housed for the past year and a half. Now, I don't know how suspicious that makes you, because it certainly makes me very suspicious for good-boy Rogers here and I think that before any explanations, which you'll definitely have to give, is an answer to this-” he drew in a long breath “Will we be meeting future Mrs Rogers this time, Captain, or have you come up with another excuse to avoid this?”

“Alright-” Steve cleared his throat, subtly but certainly very uncomfortably shifting in his place “First of all, I haven't been coming up with any excuses. Those were real reasons and I have by no means been trying to avoid it. Timing wasn't right and it's not like you always warn me in advance for me to plan ahead of time, as if anyone could keep up with you. Not that he is anywhere near less busy herself, Tony.” he shrugged, not making eye-contact, as he placed back all of the folders in their respective drawers “Maybe next time you should plan ahead of time, maybe next time you should just make a phone call since you know I'm not that good with messages or emails or anything else. Maybe, just maybe, you should even reconsider altogether, this and every other time, since we've all got work to do and it would be better if we didn't have that too. I'm just-”

“Incredible.” Tony breathed out, loud enough to cut his friend off “Simply incredible. Does-” he turned to Natasha, pointing at Steve “Does Fury do that? Do new teachers, like, train on how to be spies? History teacher by morning, secret Agent by night. And hey, Captain America can be far from just your nickname now, Steve!” Tony exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air “No, I mean it-” tony continued when he noticed the look he got from his friend “That was simply so masterful, so skillful. Changing the subject so easily and not giving an answer to mine either, yet again, is incredible on a whole new level.”

“I didn't- I'm-” Steve blinked, losing any and every ability to form a proper sentence because truth be told he had expected to get away with that much once more and it seemed like every worry he'd had for the ast couple days – ever since Tony casually brought up that he needed to do another gathering after all this time – seemed to resurface and slowly make his worst nightmares seem all the more likely to happen in real life.

“There are no excuses, guys, I'm being honest. It simply has not come up yet, that's all. I assure you, she'd very much love to meet you too.” he said but for one reason or another he still couldn't meet anyone's eyes. Those weren't lies, he knew, but hiding the truth – the entire truth that he couldn't bear to be out with yet – wasn't by any means easier in any way.

“And that's why we're not blaming you for anything, nobody is. Right Tony? Right?” Bruce asked with a pointed look at the man who rolled his eyes and dramatically flopped back in his previous seat “We'd just like to, to put it in simple words, meet the newest member of the family. Or the member-to-be. You clearly love that woman and, based on what you say, she does too. We'd just... like to know her, welcome her properly no matter what.”

Steve couldn't say it out loud, not yet, but he would admit it to himself that those last three words gave him more hope than anything else. No matter what. He wished so bad they'd think the same, all of them, both now and especially after meeting you. It wasn't that he wasn't proud of you. He was the happiest man on Earth to be by your side, to have you say yes to a marriage with him was something out of his wildest dreams and yet it was happening, and he was certainly the most proud fiance already for everything you'd achieved. And nobody could even dare to question if he was in love with you because it was written all over his face, in the way he smiled and he brightened up when he spoke about you, that showed how much in love with you he was.

But none of it was enough to shake his worries away. Not the support he already had from is family, not the acceptance he always found in them and not even, sadly, how much of a catch you already were. All that paled in comparison to-

“Ah speak for yourself, Bruce. I'm gonna be showing up at your doorstep to drag the both of you out if I have to. So you-” Tony spoke up, and breaking Steve's trail of thoughts he pointed a finger at him “Prepare for everything. I'm going to find out more about her soon and yes, that means I expect to see you both at the party although you gave me no answer yet. You tell her or I'll send a personal invitation.”

“Well-” he cleared his throat, turning to face his friends “To be quiet honest, I have more pressing matters in my mind right now than your party Tony, I'm sorry for that.” only half a lie, because all of his problems lately had to do with said parties and meetings – which in reality stemmed from one issue: the way he'd introduce you to his friends and only family “And- Weren't we talking about a different topic here? I liked that one better than what my day and night activities are.”

“Oh I certainly am not interested to know about the nightly ones. Keeping your fiance satisfied is your business alone, Steve.” Natasha chuckled, speaking up at last “The beard speaks enough for itself.” that earned more than a few chuckles and a look from Steve “But even I have to side with Tony here on the fact that it's been really too long. When are we going to meet her at last?”

“I'm sorry, did you just agree with me? I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around that. What is the date? Barton, not that down, quick!”

“Tony” Bruce chastised his friend who raised his hands in surrender once more.

“I never said that I didn't want you to meet her.” Steve said with a sigh “Nor that you are not going to meet her. You will, at some point, and no Tony I don't mean the wedding. You'll meet her sooner.”

“I bet you could avoid that too by not inviting me to it.” Tony snorted and despite everything, it earned a chuckle from everyone.

“Don't give me any ideas. Well-” he sighed again softly, relaxing more “It's only... it's more complicated than it and though I wish I could explain it all, I feel like I don't even know where to start sometimes. It's hard. It's not bad or sad or anything like that, I'm just-” he paused, eyebrows furrowed deeply “It's a mess, in my head. All of it. Then again, I think it has always been, I won't lie. But I will sort it out, sooner than later, I promise that. And you'll get to meet her. Right now is just- it's not the time.”

His words earned him warm smiles and nods, just like a soft hum. A moment of silence, content and understanding amongst longtime friends, even though he had mostly avoided giving a direct answer or dealing with the issue at hand, followed until-

“But what if... she's in prison?” Tony's eyes were trained on the floor but his words effectively earned a few groans and ended the peace that had settled “Was in prison? No, no, think about it. Maybe she's a serial killer and Steve here doesn't want us to know? Maybe, he helped her escape? Maybe he helped in the crime too!”

“Oh gosh, Tony.” Steve rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but laugh.

“Hey, you're not directly denying it. And you're avoiding eye-contact. Did I hit a nerve? I hit a nerve!” Tony pointed at him but Steve only shook his head “Now I really wanna meet her.”

“Says the man who called the actual president of the United States “sweetheart” because that's why Pepper didn't let you hear the end of it. You said “If you want 'em, you can come and have 'em since you know my place, sweetheart.” loud and clear.” Steve pointed out.

“Hey, they're my inventions, ok, I'm not about to hand them over. So you know what? I had every right to! What would you do capsicle?”

“Don't know what Steve would do, but I know what I will do now. And that's stop waiting.” Clint got up from his own seat, stretching “I have three kids and little time as you all know. When will Sam be done?”

“I think he only had five minutes left. I still don't know why they keep gym for the last class of the day.” Steve admitted with a sigh “But I do think that if he started heading for the door now, we'd find him there. Save him the trip to my office and then call Rhodey to tell the guys to get ready.”

“Sounds like a plan to me! Let's get started, this place is huge as it is, we'll probably meet him halfway.” Tony was the first one to copy his movement before they were all soon out of the office, no less in silence though at least for long “Speaking of which, you thought about that offer yet? It's no small thing being wanted by such a big university, can't compare to a high school. No matter how big or state-of-the-art it may be. Besides, hey, you could finally feel at home with all those 90-year-olds there.”

“While that would sound lovely, seeing as none of them would tease me about my lack of knowledge on technology like someone I know-” he gave his friend a side look, despite the smile on his lips “But still, no, I think there is something about SHIELD that I won't be able to find there. I have the Phds, I should be fine, but this school was helped build by your father, by my aunt for something great and that means a lot more. So for now, I think I'll stay.”

“Your choice. Can't say I blame you either.” Tony shrugged, hands in his pockets “I know we'd all miss you if you had to move to somewhere else, me included. Oh just thinking about it- Lots of manful tears.”

Steve's lips parted, ready to reply, only for his words to get caught in his lips. And it wasn't just the big lump in his throat that prevented him from breathing, it wasn't just his lungs burning with lack of oxygen or his dry mouth that made him feel sick. Sick with worry, he had gotten used over time. Sick with realization that this was it, having been caught unprepared at that, he didn't know if he could accept. If his body could ever comprehend it to begin with, because right now all it felt like was as if every organ was failing one by one and every cell in his body had frozen up; as he took the image of you at the other end of the hallway.

“(Y/n)?” he breathed out in horror, like he never had done before in his life. Possibly in his dreams, worst nightmares actually – hard as it would be to believe it when it came to you being in them. It wasn't you, nor because of you, but the rest of the situation. It was those exact gasps he heard that were responsible.

“That's (Y/n)?” it sounded as shocked as he had expected.

“You gotta be kidding me. Rogers' got that? I need to know what his secret is now!” another whisper.

“Ah, there he is!” Sam, who only now Steve realized you had been talking to, exclaimed.

For the second time in only a matter of second, Steve felt his body freeze in its place only for this time, only half a second later, to spring into action. When you turned to fully face him and he spotted the bandaged hand, the scratches on your forehead and the small drops of blood on your shirt, all of his worries turned into actual fear but for entirely different reasons. He actually exclaimed this time, eyes wide “(Y/n)!”

“I know, I know.” you sighed, approaching him with an apologetic smile “I didn't call and didn't give you a single warning about this. I'm really so sorry about this. If it was up to me I- I wouldn't be here but-”

“Wha- No, honey, no!” he breathed out hastily cupping your face in both his hands, trying to take in every little detail that was there and that was not ever since he last saw you in the morning “I'm not- I would never- This is blood, (Y/n), what happened?!”

“Oh oh! No, don't worry.” you placed your hands on his “It's- it's nothing major, just a scratch here and there, probably because I wasn't driving. Paul is fine too, though they took him to a hospital just to be sure. Honestly, the car's in a far worse condition than any of us, the accident wasn't that bad in itself but-”

“Accident?” he gasped “You were in a car crash? Sweetheart-” he paused for a moment, doing another check over with his eyes, lips parted as if he was ready to bombard you with questions about your state, advice on your well-being and so many things that he should do but you knew he was holding himself back only because you weren't alone. He could be as over protective as he wanted but truth was there didn't seem to be a real reason the more he looked at you. He took in a shaky breath and nodded his head slowly Are you sure? Maybe you should have gone with him too, get a couple of check ups just in case-”

“Steve, no, I swear I'm fine, darling. Believe me please.” you whispered, emphasizing on the words, as you fixed your fiance with a look that made him let out a small sigh before he nodded his head and kissed your forehead, moving to your cheek and then briefly your lips.

“Are you sure there is not something I can do though?” he dared whisper “Maybe you should have-”

“No. Steve, no.” you shook your head, giving him one final look as if to warn him that you weren't going to take any of it now “Now-” you let a soft breath, smiling up at him “I hope we established that I don't need any pampering, not at the moment at least. See, I wouldn't have come here if I hadn't forgotten my keys, though. My phone is definitely in pieces so I couldn't really let you know and I thought I'd stop by to get your keys before, well-” you stopped, looking over his shoulder before giving him a tight-lipped and certainly very apologetic smile “You know. But- yeah. Seems like my timing's just too shitty today.”

Your words did earn a laugh from your fiance, and he could see it in your eyes just how much you appreciated the sight of him relaxing, not that he had the chance to tell you so before Tony spoke up.

“Uh pretty sure doesn't like that kinda language!” he came closer, nowhere nearly subtly pushing his friend away to extend his hand towards you “I mean, he's all but an old man so it shouldn't be surprising. One would beg to wonder: Is dirty talking involved in it, or not? Tony Stark, by the way, and since you're here I think we'd finally get the question answered after all! So you are the fiance wow! (Y/n) (Y/l/n), what a pleasure to finally meet you! I've been coming up with all sorts of pictures of you in my head but let me tell you reality far exceeds every expectations! No wonder Rogers has been hiding you all along.”

“I-” you couldn't help but laugh a bit out of breath at his words, blinking in surprise at his rambling all in one breath “Well, let me tell you, you certainly live up to the image I had of you in my head, Mr Stark, and definitely all of Steve's descriptions.” you laughed, taking his hand “It's such a pleasure to finally meet you!”

“Please, Tony. Weird-” he glanced at Steve “I don't think I shared my performance in bed with Rogers.”

“Tony” Steve warned although you couldn't hold back your own laughter once more.

“What?” he asked in return “I'm just letting the woman know what's out there on the market in case she decides she needs to dump the capsicle and be a little more adventurous in life.” he added winking at you.

“Thank you, Tony, but-” you chuckled, noticed the way your fiance rolled his eyes, though there was too much playfulness in both of their demeanor to make it real or serious “I think after all these years, despite his quirks and habits that can drive me crazy, there's something called love. So I'll stick with him.”

“Oh he sure is a handful. But who am I to judge, some like them old.” he shrugged casually.

“But you're older than me!” Steve couldn't help but protest, almost sounding like a little child about to throw a tantrum. While it would have sounded funny, you couldn't help but notice the small crease in his brows that was always there when the topic came up. He was uncomfortable and even more self-consious about it, despite how much you'd always tried to reassure him that the age gap was never an issue for you.

“Alright, are you two quiet done or are we gonna have to witness you get at measuring it too?” Natasha spoke up there was a hint of exasperation in her voice that you couldn't help but understand if not completely relate to “Hi, name's Natasha and it's good to finally meet the woman that's got this guy with all those pounds of muscle wrapped around her little finger. It's quiet a show to watch, let me tell you. One way or another.” she grinned and you chuckled “Oh and here we have Bruce and Clint. Sam you've met.”

“Kind of a tough feat but I'm confident I'm doing well.” you smiled, nodding your head “It's great to meet you too Natasha, Bruce and Clint. You guys- I've heard so many stories with you, you have no idea how happy I am to finally be able to talk to you in person and get to know you. Though I hoped it was under different circumstances, I apologize for this.”

“Oh no, you don't have to apologize in the least bit. So long as you are alright, well, we're just glad to finally meet you too.” Bruce said with a gentle smile “We've been looking forward to knowing the woman that makes Steve so happy, even if it took some time. Which we can't understand because you're lovely.”

“Yeah, I uh- I know and I feel bad about that because-” you glanced at Steve who had put an arm around your waist, his breathing labor if not somewhat withheld, and you almost noticed his body had stiffened up as if he prepared himself for the worst “Well, I'm partially responsible. Work is taking up so much of my time and the few free hours I have, I try to spend with Steve and plan ahead of time. I've been told you've wanted us to both come to your parties-” you looked at Tony “And while the thought of beating Steve's ass at pool and sharing every detail, pardon, embarrassing detail of our first dates with you guys had been very tempting, I sadly had not been able to make it yet. Much as I'd love to get to know... the family.”

“Trust me, once you really get to know this family, you wish you hadn't. But you're just too sweet and innocent yet, so I won't ruin it for you.” Natasha chuckled “For now Steve's lucky. On every aspect.”

“I mean, hey, at least it is a better explanation than ex-serial-killer on the loose that Tony suggested. Not busy with prison either, I assume?” Clint shrugged as Tony exclaimed “Hey, it was a solid explanation.”

All you did was laugh “I'm not a serial killer, Tony, unless we consider my attempt at lasagna a murder. Come to think of it, the kitchen always ends up looking like a crime scene so who knows? But I haven't been in prison, either, not that I remember of at least. Right now being head of the museum is enough.”

“Smart, funny, sweet and incredibly beautiful- Rogers what is she even doing with you?” Tony teased.

His words earned a laugh from you and everyone else, managing to ease the tension. Or at least the tension that had set on Steve, because everybody else had been incredibly relaxed from the beginning including you, as much as it surprised him. Just some. He was not all that surprised to realize that they already adored you from the first five minutes of knowing you. He had had no doubt about it from the beginning. He was sure that charming them with a smile andmesmerizing them with your sweetness would be a piece of cake for you like everybody else you met, they loved you. Besides, he couldn't lie, that whatever the situation (car crash or not – even though he hated to think like that) were always radiant and as beautiful as ever and he'd always thank his luck for gracing him with a woman as stunning as you inside and outside. But taking pride in your wits and beauty that easily made his family adore you he couldn't really allow himself to fully accept it and relax. The small voice in the back of his head, even now as it saw that things were going so well – only one joke about the age difference, if any at all so far – he felt worry and fear. For what?

“And here I thought that the real kids would have left by now. Am I going to have to ask you all to enroll at some point or what? I can't seem to shake you guys off no matter wha-”

The voice was familiar somehow but your brain was slow at processing it, given everything that had and was happening, but the second your eyes fell on the man, well, there was no mistaking the face or the memories the came with it. Realization dawned on the man as well, obvious on his face as he trailed off.

“Mr Fury!” you breathed out with a smile and a laugh of disbelief at how little he had changed.

That.

“Well, I will be damned.” he grinned, as much as he ever would at least “Miss (Y/l/n), if this isn't a surprise!” you happily reached for his hand and shook it with a firm grip, a trait which he always appreciated in you “Came back to see if the building's still standing? As you can tell, much as our students have tried and would wish, both the walls and I are well standing. Again much to everyone's dismay. The arts class is right where you left it if you want to go check it, by the way.”

“Oh Mr Fury don't be like that. You're the best headmaster this place could get and, let's be honest, the only one who could handle the kind of kids in here without going insane.” you shrugged and he hummed in agreement nodding his head “Besides, you always had faith in everyone, whether you admitted it or not.”

He scoffed a laugh “Glad that at least in some cases I wasn't proven wrong.”

“Wait- you-” Tony blinked, raising a hand as to stop the conversation “I'm getting it all mixed up here. Fury, you know (Y/n)?”

You wouldn't even have realised if the sharp intake was real or not, much less coming from your fiance, if you weren't standing so close to him. You had naturally found your way back to his side and his hand had fallen on your waist, and when you felt a squeeze so fast and quiet intense, you understood that it was all him. And more than that, you saw the way he had stiffened up next to you, how he was holding his breath and his chest was puffed out. His eyes weren't nearly as wide but you could see an unspoken kind of fear in them that made your heart ache. This wasn't how you wanted it to go by any means, not on your first meeting of his family. Everything was going so well, you had gotten so exited and carried away that you had almost not realized it what it could mean to have Fury in front of you. Not until now. You didn't want it to be ruined for Steve but what could you do anymore? Stand and watch just like him, feeling more helpless was the only possible thing aside from hoping.

“Do I know her? I don't know Stark, there are some people I'd rather see once a month or even year because one can only take so much and forgetting them wouldn't sound so bad- If you know what I mean.” he gave him a look and for a moment you held your own breath. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe- “But, forgetting the brightest student to walk these halls ain't possible. And speaking of that, what brings you back after all this time (Y/n)?”

“Student?” it sounded like Natasha but you couldn't be sure over the sound of your own heart drumming.

“I uhm-” you cleared your throat, deciding to look as confident as possible for the sake of your fiance who as standing frozen in his place if not terrified “Yes, yes I was-” a soft laugh which you could proudly say sounded genuine “I was a student here almost six or seven years ago. Small world.” the came out as a whisper “And uh I was here because I had to see Mr Rog- Steve. I needed an uhm favor, of sorts. I'm sorry to disappoint but I won't be staying long, it's already been a long day for me and I need to head home.”

“Of coure.” he said but sadly for you that wasn't that, and feeling the tension in the room not only from Fury who studied the way you were so close but from the rest of Steve's friends who stood frozen in their place, faces blank but tha probably the worst kind of expression they could have on “But uh I didn't know you two kept in touch. What- what is Mr Rogers exactly to you?”

There is no mistaking the look the headmaster is giving you, the way his eyes narrow a bit, just like there is no mistaking the bit of knowing look in his eyes. Steve however, still very tense, chokes out in a lightly small and hoarse voice “Fiance.” he cleared his throat “(Y/n)'s my fiance.”

Fury's eyebrows rose but not with as much surprise as you'd have expected, not even that of having his current thought being verified. Maybe they weren't any current thought at all? Maybe the suspicion had not sparked this very moment to begin with.

“Well, then, what else can I say but congratulations!” he gave you a smile which you tried to return. Key word: tried. Steve was even more stiff next to you, unable to even try himself.

Before you get the chance to speak, it's another female voice this time that you also recognise “Fury, I have some stats I need you to see now befo- Oh, (Y/n)!” Maria smiled at you and you couldn't help but return it, until it almost froze in your lips because of her next words “What a pleasant surprise to see you here, you haven't changed at all! Not were it counts at least. Look at you, from high school girl to badass business woman. That's a glow up.”

She had always been friendly with you, the playfulness was to be expected, and her words were always what could make your day but at this very moment it felt like the exact opposite. You forced a smile nonetheless “Thank you Maria, it's great to see you too!”

“Right.” Fury cleared his throat, smirk evident on his lips “Well, as you can tell, work never ends for this old man. It's great to see you again (Y/n) and of course, congratulations once more.”

You were sure you murmured a soft “Thank you” but maybe it was only your lips moving as a reflex. You saw Maria give him a questioning look but what caught even more the attention was the grin he could barely hide as he turned to her and started speaking in a hushed tone.

Not that much registered anyway. The silence that followed, even for a couple seconds, felt deafening. Your heart seemed to be stuck in your throat as you simply waiting for something, anything.

“Honey.” it was Steve that spoke up, drawing your attention as he placed the keys in your palm “You're tired and you've been through enough for today. Go home and I promise I'll be there shortly afterwards. I'll say a quick hello and then I'll be with you, no more than an hour.”

“Steve” you protested in a low voice, looking up to meet his eyes. You weren't protesting at him cutting his day out with his friends short, although you definitely wanted to fight him about that because you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You were protesting at him taking it all upon himself, doing the explanation and what not. You felt like you had to be there to, that you needed to stand by his side and defend your relationship, even in front of his friends.

“No” he shook his head, clearly reading the meaning behind your words “Go. I'll be fine.” he whispered in your ear before kissing your temple “Go”

You tried to fight him a bit longer, silently at least, but his pursed lips and firm eyes told you that he's not having it. With a heavy sigh you nodded your head and he let go of your face. You put on a smile and turned to his friends “It was... great meeting you guys. I hope I'll see you again soon in... better circumstances. That we could get to talk more.”

“Anytime.” Natasha says with a warm smile that's almost friendly and accepting and you wish to believe it.

Sharing goodbyes with the rest of the group, you reluctantly walk away despite the urge to linger close if only to at least hear what they're going to say. Not... that you'd have to.

“Steve, you absolute little sneaky shit!” Tony exclaims, not even trying to keep quiet as he laughs “Alright, alright, now you seriously have to teach me how you do that! Your secret- Tell us your secret, there has to be one! My, I never thought I'd say this to freaking Cap of all people but I need your tips now!”

His words were followed by more laughter, easy and calm as Natasha spoke up again “Really, Steve, that's the reason whyyou didn't want us to meet her?” she raised an eyebrow and Steve tried to stutter out words but nothing coherent was said, not as he stared dumbfounded at his friends “You realize that there is nothing you should feel ashamed about, right? She was your student, alright, but as long as you both leg- Wait, you both were, right?”

Steve's eyes widened “No, Nat- It's not-” he blinked before shaking his head “When any of it happened she was very much legally an adult. Nothing could have ever happened if she was not. I would never-”

“Lies!” Tony gave him a look “That's absolute bullshit, Rogers. Nobody believes it. Come on, teacher- student relationship is already out there, start admitting the rest of it!”

“That's the truth, Tony.”Steve rolled his eyes “I'm not hiding anything else besides-”

“Not the one I chose to believe, no. Doesn't have as much spice as I'd like and we've already established that you have dirty secrets, I'm set on discovering it all if I have to. In fact-” he got his phone out “How much do you think a lie detector takes to build up from scratch? I could always order but-”

“Maybe... you were right to want to hide it after all.”

“Not all of us could have a mature reaction when some of us are not even close to... mental adolescence.”

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stony-spn · 4 years

Text

House Tour

(Established relationship, married au, avengers as family, soft/fluff, Tony is a mother hen, words 2304)

This isn't something new for Tony, he always liked showing off to the world that he was more than just exploding things. So when Architectural Digest asked Pepper to do an episode on the Avengers Tower to say Tony was excited was an understatement. This was his baby that he made from the ground up, every floor in the tower was made especially for his weird little family that he is very happy to spoil now and then.

“Steve, did you clean your side of the closet?” Tony yelled from the main kitchen when we heard the footsteps approach him.

“Umm…yes… maybe…..kinda. I just got a call from Maria she needs me on this mission right now. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning.” Steve replied with his arms folded to his chest, trying to look guilty for not being able to help but Tony could see that the bustard was more than happy to leave all of this on Tony’s shoulders.

“Oh is that so, okay but do make sure you don’t tire yourself too much since you’ll be sleeping on the couch for a week.” Tony couldn’t help but smirk at the small gasp that left Steve’s mouth, well two can play that game.

Tony felt a kiss on his neck that he happily gave more access to, “How about we make it three days?” Steve said while sucking on Tony’s earlobe and making him moan and ache for more.

“I’ll make it for two weeks if you try to bargain with me on this,” Tony said while turning in his husband’s hands to get a proper kiss.

“Well gotta make the most of it, for now, I guess,” Steve replied and started kissing his husband deeply.

“OH COME ON NOT IN FRONT OF YOUR KIDS!!” Clint yelled as soon as he saw his leaders making out in the kitchen.

“Yes daddy hard, uh, daddy..” moans started to leave Tony’s lips that only sent more shivers down Steve’s back.

“I WISH SOMEONE KILLS ME. THOR PLEASE SMASH ME BUDDY, THOR!!” Clint cried.

“I do have to leave, my love,” Steve said in between the sweet little kisses that he left on Tony’s mouth.

“You have to be back before AD comes tomorrow Steve or else I swear on your ass I will kill you.”

“I’ll try my best your majesty,” Steve replied with a smirk and a bow. That flattery asshole will make Tony’s weak heart explode.

Tony went to their master bedroom to clean it up before AD comes tomorrow because his husband would rather take Fury over-cleaning. Which should be concerning.

After a long day of cleaning Tony makes his way to the main kitchen again to feed his “so-called” kids who would live on fast food and take-outs if it wasn’t for Tony and Natasha making them home cook food. Tony loved cooking, it was the only thing we had left of his mother, Jarvis, and Ana. He still has all their recipe books even tho he has perfected and learned each recipe by heart. You know what they say if you want to win someone’s heart the stomach is the way, and when your husband is a super soldier, stomach is most definitely the way. So he started off cooking to impress Steve on their dates which soon held to a habit of always worrying if his super soldier is eating enough. Hence left to him making food for his family. So this was an enjoyable time. He was in charge of it. He gets to make everyone do the dishes or put the table on because hey if he is cooking he isn’t cleaning as well.

“What is our dear mother bear making today?” Bruce asked as soon as he saw Tony cutting meat.

“Brucie bear if you call me the mother of this relationship just because I cook, I am telling Nat.” Tony replied while hitting Bruce’s hand with the back of the knife to keep him from putting his finger in the pot, “And no putting your dirty hands in mama’s pot”.

“Oh no! We call you mama because you my friend have a serious mother hen problems that we all love and adore of course.” Bruce smartly covered his tracks.

“Well to answer your previous question I am making seekh kabab karahi, it’s a Pakistani dish. Thor wanted something spicy and you know Clint he is a spice whore.” Tony stating like this was the most obvious fact in the world.

“So no special treat for me and Nat. And we all know you are making this for Steve, he is the real “spice whore” in this family” Bruce replied as he started mixing the pot so the gravy doesn’t stick and burn. Bruce likes helping Tony not only in the lab but in the kitchen too. Guess they aren’t only science bros.

“Steve was called on a mission this morning. Don’t know where or don’t know who. He just told me he’ll be back in the morning.” Tony said as he took over the pot and pointed at Bruce to start cutting the salad.

“Don’t worry he’ll be fine shellhead.” Nat (who no one knows when came in the kitchen) patted Tony’s back and gave him a half hug.

Tony knew it was ridiculous and that Steve could take care of anything. But ever since Tony put Iron Man on retirement he can’t help but not worry since now he never knows anything about anything. But his family is always there for him to help him not worry himself too sick. He was grateful for them.

“Miss. Nat, I believe it’s your turn to set the table” Tony replied rather too quickly to avoid the thickness he feels is coming around his throat.

“Relax mama I am here in peace.” Nat clapped her hands and danced towards the table. It was still a little crazy to see them all so comfortable with each other.

“I SMELL YOUR FOOD FROM MY ROOM TONY AND CAME RUNNING DOWN TO EAT WHAT MAMA BEAR HAVE FOR US TODAY” Thor yelled as soon as he entered the dining table that was now set with dishes and food. Everything looked perfect.

“Jarvis where is Clint?”

“Sir, Mr. Barton wants me to tell you that he is not leaving his room unless you apologize to for and I quote “ruining my virgin eyes, I saw my mom and dad making out in the kitchen and MOM WAS MOANING”.”

“Tell Barton to show his ass in 5 minutes or he isn’t getting any food tonight or an upgrade on his gadgets,” Tony said while going to sit on his usual seat which was right next to an empty seat of his husband. Just one day that is all.

“Sir, Mr. Barton is on his way. And Thor he is begging for you to not eat everything before he gets down here”

Tony could hear a smirk behind that faceless voice. When did Jarvis become this great, Tony may never know?

The next day came and the production crew was already in the penthouse setting up their cameras and lights. The rest of the Avengers were in the common floor as this was only for the penthouse, meaning Tony and a Captain was required only for the shoot. But the said “Captain” still wasn’t back was the mission that he promised he will be back first thing in the morning and it was noon and Steve was nowhere to be found.

Tony was getting way to furious at his husband for leaving him at the end moment to do this alone when he promised that this will be something they do together like all the things they do. As Tony was about to plan all the ways he will murder his husband, his phone buzzed indicating that Tony received a text. Of course, it was Steve telling how terribly sorry he was and how will be in the tower in the next 10 mins. Tony didn’t bother replying, he’ll say everything on his mind after the shoot is over thank you very much. He just wants Steve to get here, wash and look presentable for the camera for however long they needed to, and after that Tony can murder his husband in peace and quiet of their house. Tony will happily admit that made him smile.

“Okay, Mr.Stark we are ready. When shall we start?” Jenny, the producer asked politely.

“We’ll start in an hour. My husband is on his way back and we’ll need a few mins to set everything up.” Tony replied excitedly. This is what he wants, to show off their house and his husband.

Steve entered the tower in the next 8 mins and left the elevator in the next 9 mins. Not that Tony was counting he just wanted to make sure he didn’t have to kill his husband twice tonight, see he cares.

It took about 25 mins to get Steve to take a shower and wear the clothes Tony picked out for him. While Steve was getting ready Tony took the black roses that Steve so graciously brought, put them in a vase on his side table. It is a thing they did since they started dating, Steve would bring Tony flowers every time he could go for a run and Tony will place them all over the tower to show off how wrapped up Tony has got Steve, it’s a different level of bursting his ego.

“Okay Jenny, we are ready,” Tony called out for the producer as soon as he saw Steve in the kitchen all dressed up and looking so handsome that it should be illegal.

“Don’t you look beautiful my love?” Steve whispered in Tony’s ear with a small kiss on the skin behind his ear.

Tony just gave an umm in response to show Steve that flattery isn’t going to give him a pass this time. But he couldn’t help the smile that was crawling up his lips that he knew gave away more than he wanted to.

“Now this is where the magic happens,” Tony says to the camera as he opens the double french doors to their master bedroom. Steve's soft laugh can be heard behind him.

“This isn’t the only place where the magic happens.” Steve helpful adds to Tony’s surprise. WHY IS HE SURPRISED. STEVE IS AN ASSHOLE AT TIMES AND HE LOVES THIS ASSHOLE ALL THE TIME.

“Steven Stark-Rogers please keep this kid-friendly.” Tony tried to go with hurt and betrayal in his voice but the laugh gave him away.

Tony started explaining all the different things he got from different designers, The rug, the side tables. the color, the sofa’s, the coffee table and the books.

“Uhh and my true love my vanity. I didn’t want a small dressing table with a small mirror. So Pepper and I went into talks with again the main designers of the whole penthouse Nate and Jeremiah, they gave the idea for a walk-in, not a closet, we’ll talk about that later but I walk in vanity that can fit six superheroes all at once. if you slide the wall on which this gorgeous gold mirror is hanging. Now, this is exclusive. I welcome you all to Tony Stark-Rogers vanity. I have it all arranged with things I use in the morning, at night, special occasions, galas, my jewelry,my hand, my face, wet products, dry ones, masks every mask has its own place, makeup that I use daily, the interview ones, the date nights one. Everything here has it’s place and is stacked ever so nicely that sometimes I just want to cry at the engineering of this.”

Tony went on and on about his vanity and he could feel Steve watching him with a fond smile and that face he makes filled with love and affection wherever he hears Tony talk with so much joy,

“There are a few things that are strong enough to pamper a super-soldier too, whenever he lets me pamper him that is,” Tony says as he walks out of his vanity and gives a kiss on Steve’s cheek.

“Now let me take you to another heaven on this very floor,” Tony says all dramatically making Steve double with laughter he really loves this man to death.

“Feast your eyes on the collection I like to call TONY STARK-ROGERS ft Steve Stark-Rogers,” Tony says as he opens yet another double french door. What can he say Tony like drama and dramatic entrance is the.

The closet was huge filled with clothes, sunglasses, bags, shoes, had a whole coffee table with armchairs, refrigerator, and mirrors.

“This part belongs to Steve” Tony pointed the not too small but very small compared to the rest of the room part, “AND ALL OF THIS BELONGS TO ME,” Tony said we a big grin on his face.

After the long tour of the closet, the went back into the room to close o the interview.

“Steve do you have anything to add on our house tour, anything about how amazing job I did with our room and house,” Tony asked Steve as he made home and fixed himself beside Steve under his arms. Tony being only 5′8 and Steve 6′2 he barely reached his husband's shoulder which was okay because they fit like a puzzle and Tony could wear sexy heels and torture his husband,

“Hey, it’s your room I just get to sleep in there if I behave enough. And you did a wonderful job as always with everything you do my love,” Steve said and he leans down to kiss his husband sweetly.

The day the interview was posted. Everyone went crazy at how cute the power couple are actually, about how amazing Tony’s interior designing is and of course #MomTony was treading everywhere.

#stevetony #stony #my writing #stony fanfiction #stony fic #steve/tony #fanfic #superhusbands #superhusbands edits #stony-spn #steve rogers x tony stark

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wtnrscap · 4 years

Text

Cursed Words- Freight Car

Pairings- Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Bruce Banner, mentions of past Natasha Romanoff x Clint Barton, mentions of past Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes.

Summary- Bucky begs a favour as the last week of treatment approaches. Steve offers you advise and the words become no more.

Warnings- (18+) Mentions of blood, death, injury detail, PTSD, panic and anxiety attacks. Swearing, fluff. Dirty talk, dirty fantasies. Eventual smut.

A/N- Accidentally brought past Stucky into this. Yes, it’s a lousy way to get the freight car in there. Offically, this is the last chapter but there’s also a smut epilogue to come and then, although it may be badly written, you’ll see the effects of reading fanfiction for 5 years. I am opening a permanent taglist for future fanfictions as well as putting writing on hold to sort out my masterlists. This will all be done when this series over, so don’t worry yet.

Also, look out for the Infinity War line! Taglist is open. Prompts list is here.

Cursed Words Masterlist

A small smile brightens your face as Steve reads the last word slowly. A few seconds later and Bucky produces a shaky thumbs-up. You sigh in relief, “Did that just happen? Did with just have a successful run?”

Steve nods his head and you squeal, jumping into his arms, hugging him tightly. Bruce releases the door as Tony pats you on the shoulder, “Which means the last stage of the treatment has arrived.”

“Reassociation...” the four of you say simultaneously. A brief silence. Slowly, you turn back to Steve as Bucky staggers out of the cell, “Guess you’d better pick some really strong memories, Cap. Ready to go, Bucky?”

Bucky nods his head. When you got back off the holiday, he’d insisted on walking himself out the cell. Something about building up strength and resistance. You hadn’t really been listening due to the fact he’d been parading around the military uniform again, trying it on for size. Or so he claimed. It wasn’t like the dreamy look you’d had on your face had gone unnoticed.

The cast had been off for 3 weeks and although Helen had told you to take things easy, you’d been wondering when you and Bucky would have sex. He’d said as soon as your leg was free but then changed his plan. He wanted the treatment to be completely finished. Which left you extremely sexually frustrated. Especially when he walked around in those stupidly tight shirts.

“Doll, you with me?” Bucky voice jolts you and you smile, clasping his hand and making your way back to his room, which, frankly, was more yours now.

“How are you feeling?” you ask as Bucky climbs out of the shower and you close the floor-length drapes. He shrugs and pulls on a grey shirt, the short hair falling across his forehead. When he’d had the long hair, hiding his eyes has been his defence mechanism but he couldn’t hide from you any longer. You sign, walking over to him and brushing the hair away, “You look tired.”

“I am almost 100, Y/N...”

“Really? What’s your secret?”

Bucky chuckles and you smile, sitting cross-legged on the bed, “What do you wanna watch? I really wanna finish the Harry Potter films so we can start Fantastic Beasts and--”

“Can I ask you something?” interrupts Bucky, his eyes no longer meeting yours. Immediately you can tell that something is wrong. A metal hand touches yours, “Please?”

“Yeah... yeah, of course. Anything...” a smile to hide the worry. He’d never know.

Bucky bites his lips slightly and you cup his cheek with your hand, “Stop overthinking. We’ve been together a few months. I trust you. Just ask me already.”

“Okay... Um... You know we have to do the reassociation bit?”

“Yes...”

“Well... I don’t want Steve to do it...”

“Bucky, who else is going to do it? You don’t have powerful memories with anyone else and--”

“You.”

Your mind goes blank, “What?”

“I want you to do it. We’ve known each other for a few years and have been dating a few months. My memories with you are so powerful. I daresay more powerful than the ones I have with Steve. Please. Can you do this one thing for me? As a favour?”

To you, it feels as though the world has stopped turning. How could he ask you to do something like this? Did he really think you’d just agree?

You shake your head, “No. Absolutely not.”

“Baby... Come on... I need this...”

You stand and go to the window your heart pounding. At his words, you snap your head around to stare at him in disbelief, tears slipping down your cheeks, “DON’T YOU DARE ‘BABY’ ME! I don’t care if you need this, Buck. What if it didn’t work, or went wrong? It would be my fault! I can’t do this for you! I’m sorry. Steve has already said yes, and you should be grateful for it!”

He stands too, arms outreaching, “Okay... Okay... I’m sorry. I want you to do this. I trust you completely. I know you won’t mess it up, but if you don’t want to do it, that’s fine. I urge you to sleep on it, but it’s your call, I promise. Just come back to bed, please.”

Admitting defeat, you slip back beneath the covers and Bucky turns the bedside lamp off, his arms slipping around you, “I love you, Y/N...”

“I love you too, Buck. I’m sorry I can’t be enough. I’m sorry I can’t be what you want.”

“You are more than enough, more than I deserve. You are all I want...”

Tony and Bruce allow Bucky a few weeks rest, letting memories be made and giving his mind a chance to reset. Bucky lapped up the relaxation. Weeks of electrifying torture and yet he still seemed to wear a bright smile.

You, on the other hand, were not happy. Bucky continued to ask you say the words for him. He’d ask on Monday, you’d say no and he’d ask again on Wednesday. The days were counting down till the last week of treatment and Bucky could no longer he wasn’t worried. He was getting desperate. So he went to the one other person he could rely on.

“Steve, please! I need you to convince her!” Bucky cries and Steve sighs, putting his head in his hands, “Why can’t you?”

“I’ve tried and now she’s starting to avoid me! And you’re her best friend and we both know that there is a big difference between friends and lovers!”

Steve flushes, remembering the summer of 1935 and the time he spent with Bucky. There was no going back to that relationship, but neither Steve nor Bucky had regretted it, as it had helped to develop them as people. He sighs again, “Okay, okay, I’ll talk to her.”

“Thank you!”

You sit on the roof watching the sun go down. It’s crazy to you that just a few months ago you had your first date with Bucky here. So much had happened since then. You sigh, fingering the dog tags, the last of the sun rays dancing across your face. A voice calls out to you, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Steve sits next to you on the ledge and you lean into him, nodding your head, “Yeah. I like it up here. Gives me a chance to think.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Bucky asked me to read the words.”

“Yeah, he told me about that. Apparently, you said no. Wanted me to do it.”

You nod your head, but it’s halfhearted. Steve notices, “Oh, you’re actually considering it.”

“I’ve had time to think about it...” you mutter. Steve smiles, “No. You know it has to be you. The memories I have with Bucky are powerful but you are his lover, and there is a difference between lovers and best friends. You know that as well as me.”

“Steve...” you look up at him with big eyes, “I want to help, I really do... But what if it goes wrong?”

“Want to know something interesting?” asks Steve, “I spoke to Tony and Bruce, and they said it doesn’t matter who does it because both our memories with Bucky are powerful enough. However, if I do the job, then that chances are, we’ will have to do it again. If you do it, we will only have to do it once. Do you understand?”

You nod your head as a peaceful silence descends on the two of you. You’ve had a few weeks to think about it and now, you know you’ve made your mind up.

“Steve, if I do this... You have to promise me a few things.”

“Anything.”

“If I can’t finish it, then promise me you’ll take over.”

“Done.”

“You have to let me use you in the association.”

“Done.”

“And finally, let me hold your hand. Let me squeeze it really tight and just be near me. Because I don’t think I can do this by myself.”

Steve stares you with his huge blue orbs and clasps your hand in his, “I promise. Absolutely.”

“Thank you, Steve, that means a lot...” you lean your head on Steve’s shoulder, enjoying what feels like your last night of sanity.

The lab is swathed in sunlight, but you sit in the darkest corner, away from Tony, and Bruce and Steve. You watch the cameras as the clasps tighten around Bucky’s wrists and ankles and the door closes with a snap, the locks clicking into place. Tony and Bruce mutter to each other as Steve watches you apprehensively as you hold the damp towel to your burning hand. You’ve just had the worst morning.

Bucky was overjoyed that you were going to read the words, and decided to pamper you all night long. Long baths and cuddles, lingering kisses and whispers of sweet nothings to reassure you, but come morning and you had 3 panic attacks.

One in the bathroom, sobbing quietly, trying not to wake Bucky. You thought you’d had it under control till you’d hit the floor. Bucky had woken and rushed to your side, carried you back to bed and comforted you.

The second one had been in the kitchen. Your hand had been shaking as you made coffee, trying to wake yourself up. You could feel all eyes on you as the pot brewed and when you poured some int a mug, the pot slipped, burning your hand bright red. With a scream, you ran from the room and began to cry, the pain triggering the panic attack. Steve and Natasha had followed you and comforted you through that one.

The third one had happened on the way to the lab. You’d tried to stay calm despite the aftershocks of the previous attacks still hitting you. Your tongue felt woolly in your mouth and your heart rate had sped up. Both Bucky and Steve could hear your heartrate and managed to shove you into a conference room before you broke down again. Once your breathing was regulated, you thanked your boys, giving Steve a gentle kiss on the cheek and Bucky a kiss on the lips.

“Are you ready?” Steve offers you his hand and you take it, squeezing it tightly. Steve rolls your chair to the camera and the mic, “That’s it... Squeeze my hand as tightly as you want. I’m a supersoldier, I can take it.”

“Until I crush your fingers...” you mutter which makes Steve laugh. The lights in the vibranium room dim and Bucky’s shaky voice comes through the speakers, “Ready when you are. Don’t worry, Y/N... You could never hurt me...”

“Really? How are you feeling right now?” you counter nervously and Bucky chuckles. Bruce turns around to look at Tony, “Are we good to go, Tony?”

“Ready when Y/N is!”

You glance at Steve and he nods his head, his fingers now squeezing yours. Tony and Bruce smile encouragingly at you and you turn back to the camera, looking at Bucky. He looks directly in the camera, “You asked me what I was feeling? It’s not what, it’s who. I feel you... I just feel you...”

“James Buchanan Barnes, when I first met you, you were cold and unsocial, but immediately, I was longing to know you. We both have such twisted pasts and I knew, despite that, your rusted heart was secretly golden. You’re a big softie. At seventeen you had your first love, our own dear Stevie... You shared a kiss at daybreak, do you remember that day? I bet it was beautiful. When I met you, you made me feel like a furnace, my whole face was on fire with embarrassment. I tripped over in front of you and you roared with laughter. Ever since that day, I tried to make you blush back, My record was nine times. I tried to be benign because you deserved a little kindness and love in your life. Do you remember when I told you about homecoming? You made me feel so loved and so protected, a feeling so foreign to me. When we went to that cabin, and we sat in front of the fire with hot drinks and smiles, I knew then. You were the one for me. You hit me like a freight car, and I wasn’t expecting it. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes...”

Bucky grunts and growls, his arms twitching, sweating profusely. As soon as you’re done, he looks at the camera, “Steve! Read the words! Read the goddamn words!”

Steve leaps forward, “Longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak, furnace, nine, benign, homecoming, one, freight car! Soldier?”

Bucky screams, his arms straining to get out of the clasps. You throw your hands over your ears, falling to the ground, another panic attack coming. You begin to mutter to yourself, “It didn’t work... It didn’t work... It didn’t work...”

The whole room is plunged into darkness and Tony swears, “I think we just overpowered the grid...”

Steve is yelling your name, Bruce and Tony are arguing, everything is dark and cold and then... silence.

A voice rings out through the speakers, chilling you to the bone.

“I will never fucking comply again.”

Taglist:

@indecisivedolly

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sergeant-angels-trashcan · 3 years

Note

I know this isn’t your OTP but... Clint/Kate? 🥺

me *imagines clint as lin manuel miranda* ok let’s go (use whatever clint u like lol)

Fake dating

during the last superhuman registration thing where Clint and Kate disappeared for a while? They wanted to stay together so they were actually fake MARRIED in the suburbs with their rescue dog (technically true, Clint did rescue Lucky!). Clint wound up as part of the homeowner’s association. Kate wound up on a school board and she’s still not quite sure how that happened.

it was totally fine, they were TOTALLY FINE pining from their separate bedrooms and being oblivious idiots until 1.) their neighbor Jerome asks when their anniversary is because wink wink nudge nudge they’ve been in the neighborhood for a year they should have a party! (DON’T forget your anniversary dude that’s never good) and 2.) one of their across the street neighbors propositions one of them for an affair and Kate’s like, look, that’s very flattering, but I take my fake marriage vows very seriously and Clint is all hangdog like she should find SOME happiness and then it all comes out very messy and they have a real date after being married for a year :,)

Bodyswap

MORE PINING and they’re trying to be VERY RESPECTFUL of each other’s bodies but nobody can tell they’ve swapped until Kate and Clint tell them, and Natasha is just in a corner “smdh what did i do to deserve this”

Kate and Clint basically go “well our partnership is already awkward af now, may as well go for it” and they have sex, which switches them back into their own bodies

Sexpollen/fuck or die/aliens made them do it

fuck or die because sexpollen??? Kate gets dosed with some weird alien shit and they figure out it’s a fuck it out of your system or die scenario and Kate is in extreme pain crossing people off of a mental list, like Noh and Tommy and Eli are all people she trusts but they’ll turn it into something it isn’t and suddenly Clint is banging on the window of her isolation room all KATE ARE U OK??? And Kate’s like, look. You are my best friend, I love and trust you, and I kind of need you to fuck me.

And Clint is internally scrEAMing like, is this a trick, he thought they were past this and Kate had him firmly in the “human disaster you love but also despair of” category, like, he never hoped his feelings would be reciprocated only they AREN’T but he LOVES KATE so he has to do this for her and be cool about it, be cool Barton, be cool, and Clint is just in AGONY over getting something he really, really wants in a way he never wanted it

After a few hours Kate is out of the danger zone and she lets slip that she’s going to need some time away from him to learn how to be normal with him again, maybe this was a bad idea because she likes him too much, and Clint’s heart plummets until she finishes her sentence and he says, “please don’t ever be normal.” and it’s very romantic

Dark!fic

Clint never gets recruited by SHIELD, he’s always just this side of being a bad guy. The boys never crash Kate’s sister’s wedding, so she never becomes a young avenger. She does, however, take her place in Derek’s budding criminal empire. She’s a feared crime lord in her own right when Clint is hired to kill her. They have a very civil conversation over a nice cup of coffee when he’s supposed to be killing her, at which point they figure out Derek wants Kate dead. Clint kills Derek, allowing Kate to take his place, and they expand their rule of the city, getting rid of vigilantes and gangs alike

Secret kinks

Clint wants Kate to peg him so, so bad. If only he got up the nerve to bring it up, Kate would HAPPILY oblige. They’re both into bondage and edging, but Kate’s deepest, darkest secret is that she wants to be a sub every now and then, Just, to not be in charge, just to get to feel and not think. It’s not her go-to, but every now and then....anyway, she trusts Clint with everything, so she trusts him with this, too

Their first kiss

they fell asleep during a comfort marathon of dog cops, curled up together on Clint’s couch after a mission that went ever-so-slightly awry. Kate rolls over and yawns right in his face. “Rude,” Clint says, then yawns in her face. “We should go to bed.”

“Buy me dinner first, dude.”

“I just did!”

“You expensed it. Doesn’t count.”

He’s going to say something smartassy, but Kate looks sort of serious, is she for real? Does she want to go get dinner with him?

And then her lips are pressed to his, dry and cracked and very soft and sweet. And Clint half thinks he’s dreaming until Kate has a weird muscle leg twitch that winds up with her kneeing him in the junk and he’s laughing and groaning and bitching and Kate’s apologizing and almost falling off the couch so he hauls her closer, pins her rogue leg with one of his, and kisses her again.

Meeting the parents

it goes terribly. i don’t know how it happens but someone absolutely winds up stabbed

no, 2 people wind up stabbed, and one of them is Clint

Moving in together

Their teams are super confused because they were all under the impression the hawkeyes already roosted lived together??? Which they DON’T but they sort of do, this is just them officially moving in together and sharing bills and stuff. Eventually Clint will concede that Kate helped steal the money that bought the building , so technically it should also be hers. Eventually he gets her name on the deed and that’s part 1 of Clint’s Big Proposal Plan

Moving in is totally fine! Goes off without a hitch!!!

Until Week 2 when they realize that mixing their arrows was a terrible idea. “Moving in” actually happens three weeks after they move in together, and involves designating specific spaces as Kate’s and labeling weaponry in the weapons closet

A crossover of my choice

Supernatural, because that’s where my brain is at tbh. In the aftermath of SHIELD’s fall, Clint’s philosophy is “a moving target is harder to hit” and he remembers these old stories from his carnie days and one memorable episode with an actual honest-to-god vampire, katie-kate, and this BURLY ATTRACTIVE MAN DECAPITATED HIM AND HE VANISHED INTO A PUFF OF DUST I’M NOT CRAZY and Kate has a pretty high threshold for weird bullshit and you know what? turns out they’re actually pretty good at it. Kate’s really good at coming up with new weapon ideas (a mister filled with salted holy water, for example) and Clint has a knack for getting into trouble. They have at least one shouting standoff with the Winchesters. Dean flirts very ineptly with Kate and Clint.

I feel like they are PINING and they share motel rooms to save money and for safety which of course gives us ample ‘there was only one bed” opportunities and LOTS of hurt/comfort with Kate and Clint patching each other up and Clint gently tucking a wayward strand of Kate’s hair behind her ear

kate may wind up with a harem of idiot himbo bisexual disaster men, it’s very possible

An au of my choice

CIRCUS AU CIRCUS AU WHERE KATE GETS KIDNAPPED AS A KID and grows up in the circus alongside Clint and Barney. She’s still a great archer, but she does the highwire act. Clint leaves the circus to join the military, comes back as a SHIELD agent and basically recruits Kate, after which they pine forever and eventually get their shit together. i don’t think i can do anything besides pining tbh. this is a fic i’ve always intended to write and never have. i have an entire pinterest board dedicated to this i’m not ashamed

Send me ships!!!

#hawkeye squared #kate bishop #clint barton #hawkeye #ask meme answers #my stuff #Anonymous #ngl spn au with a himbo harem is uhhhh gonna take up so much of my brain

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mad-hunts · 28 days

Note

🖤 BLACK HEART

hey, @volegne! it's always nice to see you around here (: and thank you for the ask!! but as for the question that's affiliated with this symbol, which would be whether my oc has my oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before and broken someone's heart + broken someone's trust? yes. to all of those things, actually. and he's not afraid to admit it to pretty much anyone. this is partially because of how he's conditioned himself to treat people as more like thing's that are just kind of there more than half of the time, as bleak as that may sound, and because i do headcanon him to have ASPD — or antisocial personality disorder, which often manifests in a person consistently showing no regard for right and wrong and ignoring the rights and feelings of others. but of course... this is not an excuse for his behavior. only an explanation, and barton has certainly done a LOT of people wrong over the years.

as you may or may not know, barton is a serial killer who's main base of operations is gotham, but has branched out in other part's of the country before. and although barton tries to justify his killings by insisting that these people either needed to be 'fixed,' as he has this compulsion to look at a person, spot what he perceives to be flaws... then immediately want to 'fix' them, it still doesn't make what he does right by any stretch. he is known for being a particularly demented person, actually, in the way that he has not only racked up quite the body count in order to participate in the illegal organ trade in gotham, but also that he has made somewhat of a following for himself in the underground for what he likes to call his 'doll-making.'

and whenever barton refers to this, he is talking about his second business, in which he will kill men or women then turn them into this grotesque husk of what they once were to sell in an auction. barton and his daughter, matilda, are the usual runners of these auctions which involve selling off these altered versions of cadavers to people in the gotham underground. he has also been partially responsible for several severe injuries that his children have suffered from because they were forced to help him in such a dangerous line of 'work.' barton himself has several scars on his body from injuries that will never fade because of just how murderous other people in the underground can get. and whenever it comes to him breaking someone's heart and / or trust... well, there are unfortunately several instances of him doing this to people as well.

perhaps the most relevant one would be with marceline kohler, also known as marcy, who was his high school sweetheart and now late fiancée. for most of their relationship, barton withheld the truth about his nature to her and although their relationship was arguably the most loving one he has had up to date, it still broke marceline's heart whenever she found out that he had killed someone before and even worse, seemed to like it. in her mind, this was not the same person that she had fallen in love with; and she expressed the desire to completely disconnect from him at the very least even though marcy still loved him. but then, marcy found out that she was pregnant and everything changed. barton said, promised, that he would stop doing bad things to people and that they could be a family. a 'normal' one. and marceline was very inclined not to believe him but she ultimately decided to scope out whether he would actually prove true on her promise to her with a lot of uncertainty on her part still.

and thing's seemed good, for a while, because barton wasn't trying to sneak out at night anymore to indulge in his horrific appetite for hurting people. marceline had fallen very ill with pnemonia, however, so she could no longer keep an eye on him as she had to be hospitalized. and barton went back to hurting people despite him not wanting to. right before she died, marcy would go on to ask him whether he kept true on his promise: and he didn't have the heart to tell her that he didn't, so he lied. so all in all, barton did truly love her. but it wasn't enough for him to ignore his bloodthirst and seemingly high capacity for violence.

anyhow, though, i hope you liked my explanation and this clears up some thing's about him! i don't know if i've said this in one of my previous posts but barton is VERY much not a kind person. though, he is multi-faceted in the fact that he has seemed to form genuine attachments with people and contradicted his own usual behavior for them, such as whenever he promised marcy he wouldn't do these thing's anymore and with another one of his previous romantic interests named yves... even though his love for him was unrequited and this enraged him to some degree, barton didn't hurt him and he lived what was supposed to be a long life with his girlfriend, clara. but that is a story for another day.

#asks.#OF MONSTERS AND MEN: musings.#yeah. barton is... a lot i know. like he simultaneously tried so desperately to please marcy but years later-#he would go on to become a serial killer. he's kind of a walking contradiction that way??? i mean he has these moments where he seems like-#he might be a quote unquote ' normal ' person but he is also so manipulative and jsjsj idk i just think his mentality is interesting-#to talk about. but thanks again for the ask!

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mostfacinorous · 3 years

Text

Stoki Whumptober Day 30: Now where did that come from? (sorry it’s so late! I made it long to help make up for it.) [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21][22][23][24][25][26][27][28][29]

Steve stayed abed for three days-- the longest, Loki was told, and by him no less, that he’d ever followed orders to relax for, and then only because Loki came down to spend the time with him.

If the other Avengers found this odd, they did not say as much to either Loki or Steve, and if they would have preferred their time alone with Steve during their visits, Loki would have been quick to go-- save that none asked.

And so, over the course of three days, he found himself in a myriad of odd social interactions with people he’d tried to kill or manipulate, and was surprised at how… simple it was. Easy.

There was some tension still, of course; none of them would pretend there wasn’t. However, the suspicion he’d expected, the derision or outright hatred? That was nowhere to be found. They were cautious, but varying levels of polite.

The widow was witty and interesting to talk to. She challenged him to a game of chess that he very much looked forward to, and Steve joked again about their combined likelihood of wrecking the rest of the team in any competition due to unfair mental advantage.

Barton came to visit, bringing pizza with him, and they broke bread and had beer, and while he was a touch skittish, it seemed that Steve’s presence had a calming effect on both he and Loki.

Banner came to check on Steve with his own medical knowledge, and to be certain that nothing was going awry, no bones mending improperly or anything. Not, he insisted, that he doubted Loki’s knowledge, but simply for his own peace of mind.

He and Loki and Steve had ended up discussing differing medical techniques from each of their own homes- Steve’s being so far in the past that half of it was forgotten, like, apparently, telling asthmatics to smoke for the good of their lungs, and forcing anemics to eat large helpings of offal to help their iron levels. In addition, Loki learned that Steve’s mother was a healer in his youth, which, Loki thought, explained much of his urge to help others and save those who needed saving.

Loki was more familiar with herbal and magical remedies, and though Banner insisted repeatedly that he wasn’t that kind of doctor, his knowledge of modern science based medical practices was fairly impressive.

And while clearly they all wondered where this was going, only Stark and Barnes were so bold as to ask directly.

Separately, of course, but with an amusingly similar lack of tact.

“So uh-- you guys hooked up on your little time adventure?” Stark asked, during a lull in his questions about the power outage and its cause. Loki would have spluttered had he not been trained in how to hide responses from years in court.

Steve on the other hand, had been in the process of drinking, and he genuinely choked on the water in his mouth.

Loki was up in an instant, patting him on the back and glaring at Stark, who raised his hands defensively.

“Just saying, you come back and you can’t seem to get enough of one another. You can’t blame a guy for wondering.”

“We did not hook up, we nearly died, repeatedly!” Steve protested, his face glowing red under the scrutiny.

“So that’s a no?” Stark asked, looking to Loki for confirmation.

“Stark, our lack of sex lives is really none of your concern. I care for the Captain, which I think is your real question. Beyond that-- we shall see.” Loki glanced at Steve to make sure he hadn’t overstepped, and found such adoration on his face that for a moment, it took Loki’s breath away.

“Oh. Yeah, well, alright.” Stark seemed taken aback, but recovered quickly. “I feel like I should… you know, give you a minute.” He got up and made his way to the door, and Loki followed him.

“I promise you, Stark, he is in good hands.” Loki said softly.

Stark shook his head. “I don’t doubt it. And call me Tony. Have you talked to your brother?”

Loki looked away. “I do not imagine he would take so kindly to this news.” Loki hedged, speaking softer still. “And I do not believe he wishes to see me.”

Tony shrugged. “I get it. I won’t say anything. But it might be worth seeing if you can fix the family drama. Family’s kinda important to Steve, after all-- I imagine he’ll want you to try, too.”

Loki felt a wave of anxious nausea hit him at that, but he just nodded and closed the door behind Stark.

He hadn’t even made it back to Steve’s room when the next knock came, and Barnes let himself in shortly after, not waiting for Loki to answer.

Barnes looked Loki up and down, crossed his arms, and met his eyes dead on.

“You and Stevie an item now?” He asked, point blank.

Loki sighed.

“Your people have so many ways to ask this question. I care for him a great deal, yes.”

“Buck? Stop harassing my guy and get in here.” Steve called from the other room, and that was that.

Barnes was far more interested in the stone, and the stories of the effects of it that Loki had suffered.

He seemed, grudgingly, to accept that long jumps were a bad idea, and that something like remaking his past was�� perhaps not the greatest of plans. Especially given that he was closer to whatever Steve was than what Loki was, and he couldn’t handle it near so well.

He left, with much to mull over, and Loki relaxed into the idea that the stone might, at last, be safe.

---

At length, even Loki had to admit that Steve was well again. He healed fast and he needed no more rest-- he was back at the top of his abilities.

Which meant it was time to have their conversation, despite having had parts of it through others.

“So. You care for me, huh?” Steve asked, grinning.

Loki felt his anxiousness bubbling rapidly to a boil within him.

“I should hope that was fairly obvious.” He said quietly, carefully not looking Steve in the eye.

“It is. It’s just nice to hear.” Steve assured him. “Because I feel the same.”

Loki smiled and looked up, then.

“So, where does that leave us?”

“Not enemies, I hope.” Steve started, and Loki laughed.

“No, hardly that.”

“Would you consider-- in my time, we called it going steady. Now I guess it’s just… dating?”

“Is that the same as courtship?”

Steve flushed at that, and Loki smirked a little, charmed.

“Yeah, uh, I guess it’s similar.”

“Good. Then I would like to declare my intent to court you, Steve Rogers. If you’ll have me.”

“Oh, uh yeah. I don’t… know what courtship entails, but yeah, I’ll have you. And um, if you’ll show me how, I want to do the same. Court you, I mean.” Steve was adorably flustered, and it made Loki feel a little steadier on his feet. He stepped forward and took Steve’s hand.

“On Asgard, it’s gifts. Treasures and prizes won, deeds done in your name. It’s a matter of proving oneself worthy of the person they love, and making their partner feel wanted and adored.”

“Oh.” Steve said quietly. “That’s uh, nice, but you don’t have to buy me gifts.”

Loki tilted his head, then nodded.

“I’ll prove myself in deeds, then. And to that end, I would invite you to consider me, if not part of your team, at least at your disposal, if I can be of help in any matter that affects you or your friends.” Loki paused, then added, “So long as it doesn’t involve my using the damned timestone again.”

Steve cracked a smile at that, though he looked like he was thinking very hard.

“Is there anything in particular that you can think of you’d like from me?” He asked, sounding the most timid that Loki thought he’d been for this entire conversation.

Loki squeezed his hands reassuringly and lifted a finger to his lips in a pretense of thinking. “Hmm.” He said. “I can think of one thing, right now.”

Steve seemed to perk up a bit at that, endearingly eager to please.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Kiss me?” Loki responded, trying not to feel too shy or embarrassed for asking.

However, Steve seemed entirely happy to oblige.

It was a little clumsy, as if Steve had had little experience, but that was hardly a problem; by the time they pulled apart, Loki was panting a little and Steve had turned an incredibly fetching shade of pink.

They rested their foreheads together for a moment and just held one another.

It was an altogether perfect start.

And so it was that, a day or two later, when the Avengers were called out to do some world saving mission, Loki found himself following Steve to board the quinjet and report for duty.

He was stopped, though, with a powerful grip on his shoulder holding him back.

He turned to find himself face to face with Thor, and swallowed.

He’d been so happy with Steve, he had fully forgotten his once-brother was still on Midgard.

“Thor.” He greeted, cautiously but trying for politeness.

“Whatever this game is, abandon it now and return to whatever cave you crawled from.” Thor was stern and his voice thunderous with threats unspoken.

“Thor.” Steve’s, on the other hand, was commanding, and Loki looked up to see him at the top of the steps, one hand on the body of the quinjet. “Loki offered to help us. Same as you. Don’t endanger the team with your drama. That stays here, or you do.”

“I?” Thor asked, shocked that he should be benched in a competition between he and Loki.

It made butterflies flit through Loki’s stomach.

“You’re the only one who seems to have a problem with working with him.” Steve said simply, and Loki realized that was true. Even Barton seemed to be coming around; albeit on his own time.

Thor, clearly annoyed, brushed past Loki to board the quinjet, stopping beside Steve to drop a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“I hope,” Thor said lowly, “That you know what you are doing. Not everyone deserves redemption.”

Steve turned his head to look him square in the eye. “Everyone who wants redemption should be allowed to claim it.” Steve said, loudly enough for it to carry to both Loki and everyone inside.

Thor shook his head, but entered the plane with no further words, and Steve deplaned to take Loki’s hand in his.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly.

In honesty, Loki was shaking. But he pushed it down and refused to let Steve know how affected he was. He didn’t want to be left behind for it. “I am. Let’s go save your people.” He squeezed Steve’s hand, then dropped it to board their transport.

It was a fast ship, as fast if not faster than an Asgardian vessel, and it landed them at their destination less than two hours after they left.

“We’re about an hour outside of Lakhimpur, near the Ghaghara river.” The widow explained. “There are reports that SHIELD vehicles have been spotted around here-- Fury, however, didn’t send them, and doesn’t have any record of missing assets, which means we’re probably dealing with Hydra. And, it seems they are taking hostages, mostly in the medtech field. We’re going to find them, free them, and put a stop to whatever Hydra’s doing. And, on the off chance it has anything to do with samples they took from Steve…” She trailed off and looked from Loki to Barnes, “We have two experts on destroying that present.”

“Thanks, Nat.” Steve said, standing up. “We’re not too concerned about being quiet. I don’t want any innocent deaths, if we can avoid it, and no harming any landmarks, if they’ve taken over anything that might be culturally important. This isn’t our country, let’s be respectful. Everything else, though? Anything that Hydra is proud of? I wanna see it go up in smoke.”

There was a shared expression of pleasure at that, and Loki noted that Thor was, again, staring at him. He kept his eyes on Steve.

“Okay, so, we’ve got sightings on this road here,” Steve pointed on the map,”that leads into the trees. Locals who have tried to see where they go have not returned. My thought is to stage an ambush, steal a vehicle, work our way into the compound in disguise, and destroy them from the inside out. But, we could use a distraction, to get everyone scurrying. So, once we have the car, I want Tony and Thor overhead to give them something to focus on and something to fight. Stay out of range if possible, but draw their attention away from us on the ground while we get the lay of the land.”

Tony and Thor nodded.

“Bruce, Nat, Clint, you three are together once we get inside. I want you to get to the medical labs. Nat, get whatever you can off of their machines, and then wipe them, as fast as possible. You three have some Hindu and some Urdu between you, so you should be able to talk to the hostages. I want you to head up evac for the civilians. Loki, Bucky and I will handle the higher ups. And then on my signal, Tony, Thor, Bruce, feel free to tear it to the ground.”

“I like this plan.” Tony said, intentionally overly chipper, and there were scattered nods throughout the ship.

The plan went mostly as it was laid out. They took down the soldiers in the car and climbed aboard, Barton, Bruce, and Natasha donning their clothing and Steve, Loki, and Bucky hiding in the back.

Loki could hear the sounds of thunder just as they crossed the bridge that led up to the building their car had been headed towards, and the distracted Hydra guards let them in in a hurry.

Once parked, they split up to see to their assigned tasks.

Loki used his trick of diverting the eyes of onlookers, so that Steve, Bucky and he were all but invisible. They made their way deeper and higher up in the building, watching where the more decorated soldiers emerged from, and following that path.

The first problem arose when it became clear that some of the civilians were being held here, close to the officers, and not down with the others that Natasha, Bruce, and Barton were meant to be getting out.

“I’ll take them.” Barnes offered, once he’d broken the neck of one of the men guarding the cell, and Loki had buried a knife in the throat of the other.

Loki was quick to agree; though he had the Allspeak, he was loathe to leave Steve on his own, particularly after what a similar group had done to him.

So he spoke to the people inside, learned that they were the missing doctors, and told them that he was here with the Avengers, and the man with the metal arm would be leading them to safety.

“Just get them down to the other group, if you can-- I don’t want you trying to take them all out on your own. Meet up and help the others, so you have someone on your six.”

Barnes snapped off a sarcastic looking little salute.

“Yes sir, captain sir.” Barnes said, and Steve huffed and rolled his eyes, but smiled.

“How long have you known him?” Loki asked as they continued moving deeper into the Hydra hold.

“My whole life, really, save the part where we were on ice or brainwashed, respectively.”

Loki shook his head.

“It is a strange life you’ve led, my captain. Stranger than most.”

They found the room that was home to those in a position of command, and found them all on phones or huddled around visual feeds of Thor and Tony, raining down annoyance on them from above.

“But why?” One was saying. “They could be destroying us, why are they toying with us?”

“Because,” Said one man, who looked distinctly unlike the rest. Something about him reminded Loki of Barnes, when they’d first met. He was standing very straight, coiled and ready to spring, and he all but vibrated with barely contained power. Most importantly, he was looking directly at Steve and Loki. “Their friends are inside.”

Loki darted forward, immediately placing himself between the man and Steve, which proved to be a good decision. The man pulled out a throwing knife and Loki caught it, reversing it and throwing it back towards him. It landed, and he pulled it from his shoulder and let it fall to the ground as if it was no more bothersome than a fly.

“Steve, take care of the rest, they still have a hard time seeing you!” Loki instructed, squaring off against this one.

The man lunged forward, one hand still holding a knife, which he brought up and under Loki’s ribs, but Loki blocked it-- the blade bouncing harmlessly off of his bracer. The man’s other hand was empty but the fist that made contact with the side of Loki’s head may as well have been concrete.

Loki’s vision blacked out briefly, and he felt himself get stabbed in the side, but it didn’t seem to have done much damage. When he could see properly again, he wrested the knife free of the man and caught his arms in Loki’s own, turning it into a test of sheer strength.

And the man was strong-- stronger than a run of the mill human.

“He’s been modified!” Loki yelled for Steve’s benefit, the words coming out strained as he spoke through his teeth.

“I understand I have you to thank!” the man told Loki. “You left him, and they made me from part of him.”

Loki snarled and took the man’s legs out from under him, landing neatly atop his chest and pinning his arms with Loki’s knees.

“Shame it took you so long to find us; there’re dozens of men like me, now. Cut off one head--”

Loki felt another body crash into his back, but he stayed focused on the man beneath him. Loki summoned another of his knives-- the longer ones for close range fights, this time-- and slid it home through his trachea.

The man fell back and was no more.

Loki turned his attention, then, to the body that had fallen on him-- it was not Steve, which was all that mattered.

He found Steve at a bank of computers, holding a dead man’s hand to a fingerprint reader.

“A good trick.” Loki commented, as he sidled up to him. “I’m afraid I have some bad news, though.” He said, nodding at the man he’d taken out. “It seems we did not get every sample.”

Steve set his jaw.

“Yeah, I’m seeing that. Jesus-- there’s four of them here. We have to warn the others.”

Loki nodded, and watched as Steve inserted a drive into the computer, which then went to work, downloading files and leaving its own behind.

Loki used the communications device he’d been given.

“In case you’ve not run into them yet, there are soldiers as strong as Steve here. Three of them, at least.”

“Fuck!” he heard from Barton, and Steve shook his head but got the drive removed as all of the screens around him began to malfunction.

“Buck, you with the main group?”

“I’m here, the civilians have all been rounded up, according to them we got everyone. On our way out to the car now.”

“Great.” Steve answered.

“Bruce, you wanna go join Tony and Thor, maybe get a little green?”

“On it.”

“As soon as everyone’s clear, I want this place reduced to rubble.”

Steve said over the intercom, before cutting his mic.

“Then let’s get ourselves out of here.” Loki said. “Here, I’ll lead-- just in case they send more of those soldiers our way. I can put up a shield that covers more than yours.”

Steve smiled.

“Real glad you’re on our side, now.” He told Loki shortly, and dropped a quick peck to his lips. “Let’s go.”

Loki did as he said he would, erecting a shield and leading them to safety. They did not encounter the advanced soldiers, which he considered a mixed blessing, and by the time they gained the outside of the compound, the Hydra troops were attempting to fall back.

They let them, checked in with Natasha, and gave the destruction crew the all clear.

Without a car, and with the Quinjet parked on the other side of the wooded area, that meant they were on foot. But at least the company was pleasant, and the enemy was distracted.

“Not bad for a first outing.” Steve said, but his attempt at joviality sounded pinched.

“We will find the rest of these advanced soldiers.” Loki promised him, guessing at what was bothering him.

“Yeah, we’re going to have to.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, still looking distressed, and Loki reached out for him, taking his hand and marveling again at the warmth of him, and how well they fit together.

The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and he could see it in the slant of Steve’s shoulders. He leaned in and kissed him, really kissed him, this time, no quick mid-battle peck, and Steve pulled him in close.

When they broke apart, Loki was light headed, and Steve was looking besotted. He reached up to push some of Loki’s hair behind his ear, and froze.

Steve stumbled backwards, and Loki saw why: his hand was covered in blood.

Loki twisted and twitched aside the cape that was sticking to his side, only to see the knife wound he’d forgotten about earlier.

“Ah.” He said.

The lightheadedness, it turned out, was perhaps at least partially due to blood loss.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured Steve, pressing his hand to his own side with the bloody cape to put pressure on the wound.

And then, from the trees, the three missing soldier attacked, as if they had smelled his weakness.

“Awh, shit.” Loki heard Steve say, just before something was shoved over his head, and he was knocked unconscious.

#Stoki Whumptober2020 #Stoki #Frostshield #capfrost #steveloki #steve/loki #stevexloki #lokisteve #loki x steve #loki/steve #mcu fanfic #whumptober #That Writing Thing I do

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marveldeliversusps · 4 years

Text

Prompt: New Hobby

Thanks for the prompt and political advocacy, @queenoftherandomword! Hope you like it!

Prompt: Looks like somone has a new hobby

Pairing: Stucky, shrunkyclunks, background Sam/Nat

Rating: M

Art by @inflomora-art. I’m obsessed with this pic.

Steve heard a knock and rushed to the door. It was around three PM and his postal worker, Bucky, would be dropping off the mail soon. On days when he wasn’t too busy, Bucky would stick around and chat with Steve for a few minutes. Those were the best days.

Mailman Bucky was beyond hot. He had a cleft chin with a bit of softness under it, wrinkles from smiling and sparkling grey eyes. He was so beautiful he even made the dumb postal worker hat look good.

When Steve pulled the door open, he found Natasha standing there expectantly. He tried to close the door but she put her foot inside the house. He set his shoulder against the door so she could push her way in.

“Nice to see you, Steve.”

Steve took a steadying breath in. He loved Natasha and looked forward to being around her. Since he’d retired from the superhero business and given the shield to Sam, time with Nat had been in short supply. However, she was perceptive and insatiably curious. If she was around when Bucky arrived, she’d sniff out Steve’s secret crush right away. Or find the numerous unopened boxes in his bedroom that he didn’t want to explain.

“Natasha,” he said.

“That’s all?”

Steve held tight onto the door. A moment of confusion or indecision would be just enough for her to elbow her way inside. This is why he needed more non-spy friends.

“Nice to see you, as always.”

Natasha rolled her eyes so dramatically her eyelashes fluttered. “What you mean to say is I’m sorry that I stood you and Sam up for our lunch date at Hot Lips pizza today, and that you two had to wait for forty-five minutes, and I can’t believe I didn’t respond to your text messages.”

Steve closed his eyes in embarrassment. “I totally forgot. I’m sorry, Nat.”

“It’s alright, Steve,” Natasha said, brushing non-existent lint from Steve’s shoulder. “I know you have other commitments. Maybe we could hang out now?”

Steve did want to spend time with her, just not for another hour when there was no risk of her meeting Bucky. Since getting together, Sam and Natasha were both happier, more fluid and less locked into decades-long patterns, but it certainly made Steve’s life more difficult. Their attempts at teasing him or caretaking were coordinated and ruthless. Loving, but ruthless.

“Now’s not a good time,” Steve said. “How about Friday you and Sam come over for a movie night?”

Natasha smiled sweetly, all her deadly angles covered by softness. She squeezed Steve’s hand gently, then dug her fingers into his wrist, making him yelp and stumble backward. As soon as Steve faltered, she charged inside and started looking around the living room. When Steve subtly positioned himself between her and the stairs to his bedroom, Natasha clocked his actions immediately. She slipped past his outstretched hands and hustled upstairs.

“Goddammit, Nat!”

Once she entered Steve’s bedroom, Natasha stopped abruptly and looked at all the unopened boxes lining the walls. “Huh.”

Steve nearly slammed into her back in his rush to beat her to the bedroom and had to grab onto the doorframe to stop himself. Natasha tilted her head to the side as if she was trying to solve a puzzle.

“What were you expecting?” Steve said.

Natasha’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know. A hot man or woman. A sex dungeon. Porn. Not a million boxes from…” she picked one up and squinted at it. “REI? What the hell, Steve?”

Steve opened and closed his mouth, not quite ready to tell the truth. The first package had been an actual order, a new pair of running shoes from an outdoor store he discovered. But then when Bucky had delivered them, REI (Recreation Equipment Inc) was apparently his favorite store, and it had given them something to chat about.

Steve had taken to buying gear from there once a week and planned his schedule to be home with the packages arrived, just so he could talk with Bucky. He’d even been working up the courage to suggest a hike together.

“I checked all the rooms downstairs,” Sam said out of nowhere.

Steve’s shoulders slumped. Of course, Sam and Natasha would be working together. They never went on ops alone anymore. Not since she was captured by AIM, and Sam leveled three blocks of downtown Mobile, Alabama to save her.

Steve should have never suggested Nat ask Sam out. Or introduced them. Or joined the Avengers.

“Nice to see you,” Steve quipped.

Sam winked at him, the cheeky asshole. He knew Steve couldn’t stay mad at him long. “Not my fault,” Sam said, as he walked into the room. “You ditched us. And if you had just told Tasha what you were hiding--”

“I can have secrets,” Steve said petulantly.

Meanwhile, Natasha was walking around the room and shaking boxes. They all had the REI logo on the side: Sustainable Gear Built to Last. She retrieved a knife from her boot, ripped open a box and pulled out a 9.8mm Dry-Core climbing rope. It was bright yellow with red x’s on it, and Steve had picked it because he liked the design. “Is this for an outside sex dungeon?”

“Stop thinking everything is about sex!” Steve snapped. Sam raised an eyebrow at him, and Steve immediately felt bad. Before he could apologize to Natasha, she waived him off. Sam sat down on Steve’s bed and pulled out his own knife. He never used to have a million knives on him, probably Natasha’s influence.

“Do people know Captain America sneaks into people’s houses with knives?” Steve said.

Sam shrugged and carefully opened a package. “People don’t know a damn thing about me I don’t want them to know, because my girlfriend is a badass.”

A paranoid badass, Steve thought. But he had the self-preservation to keep that to himself.

Sam pulled out a Lavender Harness with yellow daisies stitched to the side. “Petzl Luna Harness,” he read off the side. “Steve, this is a woman’s harness.”

Steve crossed his arms, because he had aced his Women’s Studies class, thank you very much. “All the harnesses for women were pink and had flowers on them, and I thought that was very gender essentialist of them, so I bought it for myself in protest.”

“I’m sure they heard you loud and clear,” Sam said dryly.

They slowly unpacked all of Steve’s packages: another harness, two more ropes, a crash pad, carabiners, and several metal things Steve didn’t know the name of. After each item, Natasha looked at Steve expectantly, and he steadily denied that it was for a sex dungeon.

Next came a Marmot 1 person tent, that Steve would have to curl up in sideways to fit, a backpack, and a head lamp. He had more things he needed, but he wanted to spread the orders out.

“Why didn’t you open any of this stuff?” Sam said.

Exhausted with their questions, Steve flopped dramatically onto the floor, and he didn’t need to look up to know Sam and Natasha were doing synchronized eye rolls. “I don’t know how to use it yet!” Most of it he’d selected because he liked the colors or the philosophy of the companies. He had no idea if all the gear even all worked together. “It’s outdoor gear because my mailman likes to rock climb, and he’s hot, and I want to climb him like a tree.”

Natasha grinned triumphantly, and proclaimed, “So this is about sex!”

Steve didn’t respond, just slowly banged his head on the floor. Maybe if he blacked out they would leave him alone.

“Well, well,” Sam said.

“Don’t do that,” Steve snapped.

“Looks like someone has a new hobby.”

Natasha leaned against Sam and giggled. It was so damn cute that Steve couldn’t decide if he wanted to wrap them in Christmas paper or throw them outside.

He almost missed the knock at the door.

“Steve,” Bucky called in. “Your door was left open. Just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

Steve shot an annoyed look at Sam who grinned unrepentantly. “Barton’s watching the entrance.” Steve should've guessed that, too. He half expected them to turn into a throuple any day now.

Natasha ignored them again, moving lightning fast to charge downstairs.

“Steve,” Bucky called again. “Hi,” he said, presumably when he saw Natasha. “Just checking in. I have a package for Steve.”

“I’m sure you do,” Natasha said meaningfully as she took the box from Bucky.

Steve made a racket in his haste to prevent Natasha from saying anything more embarrassing and landed at the door framing breathing heavily with a wild look in his eyes. Natasha, naturally, looked calm and composed.

“You must be Bucky,” Natasha said, extending her dainty hand. “Steve can’t stop talking about you.”

Steve’s cheeks immediately flamed hot, and the only saving grace was that Bucky’s cheeks pinked up adorably, too.

“Oh.” Bucky didn't elaborate further even though Steve really, really wanted him to. Was that a good oh or a bad oh? An oh or an /oh/?

Before Steve could follow up, Sam came up behind him and clapped an arm on his shoulder.

“Captain America!” Bucky exclaimed when he saw Sam. Oh no, no no no no, Steve thought. “You’re my hero! I mean, I’m an adult so not like hero hero, but it’s. Whew. It’s an honor.”

Sam grinned that warm, gap toothed smile that made old ladies weak in the knees, and he shook Bucky’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Did you serve?”

Bucky nodded, shrugging his shoulders shyly. “Yeah, two tours and all that, and you know, the post office is the number one employer of vets, so I’m here doing this. Helps to have the arm.” He pointed at his black and gold prosthetic. Thanks for promoting that program by the way.”

Steve didn’t pout, but his inner toddler was stamping his foot. He only got a few minutes to talk to Bucky each week, and Sam was hogging all his time.

Natasha had magicked some popcorn out of nowhere, there hadn’t been any in Steve’s cupboard, and was obnoxiously monching it and watching the three of them. Knowing her, she’d probably known all of this was going to happen and brought the popcorn along as a prop.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Bucky said to Sam, “but could I get a picture?”

Sam nodded, turning to Steve with a shit eating grin. “Steve, would you mind taking a pic of us?”

Steve took Bucky’s camera. He stepped on Sam’s foot while he arranged them for the photo, because he had called dibs on Bucky, and Sam already had Natasha. “You know . . . I’ve been retired for a while.” Because if Sam could play the Captain America card, so could he. Bucky had never brought it up, so perhaps he hadn’t recognized him.

Bucky smiled softly. “I know, Steve.”

Oh, well. That was a different thing entirely. Bucky had known who Steve was all along and had never made him feel uncomfortable about it. Steve smiled back at him and took the picture.

Once they were done, Natasha leaned toward Bucky. “Tell me, Bucky, how long have you and Steve been getting to know one another.”

Steve was 100% sure that was her code for sex dungeon activities, which, what in the hell did she and Sam get up to in their free time? Nevermind, he didn’t want to know.

They didn’t call Steve the greatest strategist of his time for nothing. He subtly scooted over, forcing Natasha to lean back.

“We’ve only recently become friends,” Steve said. The blood rushed to his cheeks again when he realized what he’d said. Bucky probably had to be friendly with everyone while he was working, that didn’t mean he and Steve were friends. “I mean, I think we are.”

The sides of Bucky’s eyes crinkled adorably as he grinned. “Yeah, we’re friends, Steve.” He paused and glanced at Sam and Natasha before settling back on Steve. “Actually,” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, making his terrible round hat fall forward. He righted it quickly and said, “I was wondering if you’d like to go climbing this Saturday. I could show you the cool spots with not too many people, and--”

“Steve doesn’t know how to climb,” Natasha said around another mouthful of popcorn. “You should take me and Sam along to teach him. And Clint, too. Maybe Tony would want to come.”

By the grace of all that was good and holy, Sam had mercy and pulled Natasha away from the door whispering, “Stop cockblocking my best friend.”

Once Nat and Sam were out of earshot, Steve met Bucky’s eyes and grimaced. “I was looking for new hobbies, and when I ordered shoes you brought up climbing, and like an idiot I said I liked it too. because you are so handsome, and my brain turned into mush, and then I just didn’t want to stop talking to you.”

“I know,” Bucky said interrupting Steve’s rambling. His eyes sparkled as he grinned. “You once called a grigri a carabiner.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Exactly.” Bucky stepped closer, his expression turning mischievous. Steve could never, ever let him and Natasha become friends. “Wanna go on a date with me?” He was so close now, Steve could pick out the flecks of silver and black in his grey eyes.

Steve got lost staring until he realized Bucky had been waiting too long for a response. He didn’t seem to mind, his smile only getting wider.

“I really do want to learn to rock climb,” Steve blurted out to stop himself from saying something ridiculous like, please fuck me in your uniform.

Bucky tilted his chin back and laughed, mesmerizing Steve with the movement of his throat.

“How about we do both?” Bucky said, laughter dying down as he scooted closer.

Steve leaned down and said, “I’d like that,” against Bucky’s lips, the moment before they kissed. Distantly, he heard the sounds of Natasha and Sam cheering, but he blocked them out in favor of gripping Bucky’s hip and pulling their bodies flush against one another.

“The man has to work,” Sam called out. “Don’t get freaky and delay the mail.”

Bucky pulled back and patted Steve’s shoulder. “See you soon, Stevie.”

After he left, Steve collapsed on the couch next to Sam, heady with the experience, until a sudden realization left him cold.

“I forgot to get his number.”

Sam waved him off, and pointed at the kitchen where Nat was rifling through Steve’s cabinets. “Don’t worry. Tasha has it already.”

Steve groaned. Of course she did. And if by some chance she didn’t, Steve could always order another box from REI.

---

Learn more about Marvel Delivers USPS here!

#Marvel Delivers USPS #shrunkyclunks #fanart #ficlet #Stucky #bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers

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buckysforeverprincess · 4 years

Text

Can Our Love Survive Ch. 13

Bucky x Reader, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers

Words: 2236

Warnings: Being outed

A/N: So we got through the slow burn but things are still going. This chapter is told from Bucky’s POV and is kind of a filler but has a point and you’ll see why. Enjoy and happy Easter if you celebrate it!

**TAG LIST OPEN UNTIL CHAPTER 15. PLEASE SEND AN ASK**

Waking up the next morning, Bucky was groggy, and his head hurt. It wasn’t exactly his head, more so his eye from the epic right hook you had given him yesterday afternoon. He was almost certain you could kick his ass and wouldn’t need Natasha or Steve to hand him ass if he ever hurt her and hurting her was non-existent on his things he’d like to do before he dies.

The fact anyone would want to hurt her was beyond him and something he was still having a hard time processing. She was the sweetest, softest, most beautiful person with the most perfect soul he had ever met, and Rumlow and his cronies had taken and broken her, and Bucky wanted nothing more than to help put her back together and watch her shine bright for the world to see.

First things first, he needed to get his ass up and ready for school. The sooner he made this happen the sooner he could see her and hopefully establish if they were going to be an actual couple. They didn’t have time to talk about it yesterday even though they did text a bit back and forth, the topic just never came up. However, he kinda wanted to have that discussion face to face and not via text message.

It didn’t take him long to get himself together and out the door with a pep in his step and a smile on his face. Bucky felt good, better than good. He can’t remember the last time he felt this happy and carefree. Maybe that’s because it was an entirely new feeling for him, and he owed that all to her and if everyday felt like this when it was new, he can’t imagine what the future held and how his feelings would grow and blossom into the foundations for their lives.

Bucky approached his locker and looked around at the people milling about. He was hoping to see her before classes started but he didn’t see you or Natasha anywhere. No worries. He was sure at some point your paths would cross, at least he hoped they would and when that happened maybe he could press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. Yeah, he was already in deep and at the point of no return.

The device in his pants buzzes, alerting him to a new text and he pulls it out and smiles when he sees who the message is from.

My Heart: Morning! I just want to say hello before I went into class.

Bucky grins and quickly types back, trying to make the most of the conversation in the short time they have.

Bucky: Morning beautiful! Hope you have a wonderful day and I can’t wait to see you. I do have a question.

My Heart: Sure, what’s up?

Bucky inhales a deep breath and lets it out, his nerves building quickly, and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

Bucky: So, am I your boyfriend?

He hits send and puts the phone back in his pocket, scared to see the reply when it comes through. He gathers the things he’ll need and slams the door, walking away and heading in the direction of his class. He makes it to his desk when he feels the phone vibrate, and he quickly pulls it out and stares at the response.

My Heart: Do you want to be?

Of course, he wants to be, was that really even a question.

My Heart: But, yes. Wait, you are my boyfriend?! I didn’t read this right?!

Bucky: YES!!! Please don’t panic! I just wanted to be sure.

He could sense the impending worry in her message and quickly followed it up with some reassurance.

My Heart: Thank god. Class is about to start, ttyl!

Bucky: Bye!

Bucky smiled at the conversation. She was his officially his girlfriend. No, they couldn't go public yet, and everything would have to be done in secret, but it wouldn't be forever. Just until Steve and the rest of the gang forgave him for his past mistake. He'd have to start working on that right away.

It was lunchtime when he laid eyes on her, spotting her sitting with Steve and their friends. She glances over at him when he walked into the lunch room and gave a soft smile meant for his eyes only. Bucky blushes and smiles back but quickly turns away, trying not to gain any attention from the group of friends keeping a close watch on her.

Bucky found an empty table that still had a view of his girlfriend and sat down with his lunch. He hated sitting alone and he wished he could be by her side; laughing and joking with everyone, holding her hand and maybe placing gentle kisses to her cheek, but it wasn’t meant to be. Man, he’d give anything to be over there right now.

“Hey man! What happened to your face? You mess with someone's sister?” Clint laughed, pointing to Bucky’s eye, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from him.

All Bucky could do was stare in shock, not expecting anyone from the friends circle to break rank and come keep him company. “Wait, what?” he finally responds once the shock and awe wore off.

“Your eye. Did you mess with the wrong sister? Ya got a nice shiner,” Clint says a little slower for Bucky to understand.

“Unstoppable force, immovable object?” Bucky questions trying to change the topic and takes a bite of his sandwich.

“Didn't take you for a Superman kinda guy.”

Bucky does a little happy dance in his head. Sweet diversion, I love thee. “I'm not. D.C. doesn't hold my attention. I just remember the quote. Now Marvel… I could watch that all day,” Bucky says, and Clint nods his head in agreement.

“A man after my own heart.”

Bucky blushes at the remark. “Aww Clint, does that mean I'm forgiven, and we can date now?” He jokes with a grin.

Clint smiles and bats his eyes. “Hell yeah, it does...and I was never mad. You're a good guy. Shit happens.”

Thank god. One less person to win over. First Nat, then Y/N, now Clint. He thinks things are starting to look up for him.

“So how long?” Clint asks, grabbing one of Bucky’s fries and shoving into his mouth.

Bucky doesn't understand the question and stares back at the blond confused. “How long what?”

Clint chuckles. “That's cute if you're gonna go with that.”

Bucky still looks lost. He truly doesn't understand the context and Clint doesn’t want to elaborate. Bucky knows he’s not a carnival mind reader, but it’s clear he’s gonna have to be if this line of questioning keeps up.

Clint appears frustrated and rolls his eyes. “How long have you two been dating?”

Bucky’s eyes go wide in shock and his mouth goes agape. This was not what he expected and was totally caught off guard. They’ve only been together for a couple of hours and hasn't been a discussion about who can know of their change in relationship status, so how the fuck did Clint already know?

“Dating who? I'm not dating anyone!” Bucky lies as convincingly as possible. He hates to but it's his only way out.

“Really? You're not dating Steve's sister? Because you two can’t keep your eyes off each other and look all madly in love. It’s obvious, really. Surprised I’m the only one that’s caught on, actually.” Clint smirks and steals another fry.

“What?” Bucky’s eyes gravitate on instinct to her and he sees her look up at him and smile back with a blush, quickly looking away. “I can't look at her? You already know I think she's beautiful.” His attention is back on Clint, hoping to dispel Clint’s hypothesis.

A lightbulb appears to go off and Clint perks up and stands from his chair. “Well... if you won't confirm it, maybe I'll go over and ask her in front of everyone, hmmm?” Clint grins and he knows he's won.

“Fucking hell, Clint!!” Bucky raises his voice in a pleading manner. “Please, I’m begging you… don't.”

Smirking, Clint sits back down and takes more fries from Bucky’s plate. “See how much better it is when you tell the truth?”

Bucky sighs and pushes his plate of food over to Clint, his appetite gone now that his relationship has already been blown out of the water. “What gave it away?” He asks, needing to know what they’d done to make it obvious, so they don’t repeat the same mistakes again.

Clint leans in and looks him dead in the eye, eyes piercing deep into his soul. “That girl disappeared three days ago after slapping you and locked herself in her room. She reappears today after a secret mission to the Rogers house was carried out and she's happy and laughing and bubbly. I haven't seen her like this since before that pig fucker came into her life. Not a single one of us has been able to bring that out of her, so it has to be you. Besides you two can't stop eye fucking each other! You're begging for Steve to catch you.”

All he wanted was to see you smile, and now you are. Maybe everyone seeing you happy is the start of mending friendships. If Clint can see just how happy she is now, maybe the others will see it and when they find out Bucky is the cause of her happiness, they’ll be open to welcoming him back and they won’t have to hide their couple status. He just wants them to accept their relationship so she can be happy.

“I don't want to hide,” Bucky begins. “I want everyone to know we're together, but everyone is still pretty upset with me. And then there’s Steve. I know he’s still mad at me and won't be happy when he finds out and I’m almost positive he’ll use his big beefy body to kick the shit out of me when he finds out about us. I’m just a dead man walking, right now.”

“I might be able to help with that,” Clint says with a grin.

“Oh?”

“I may be able to persuade him to keep an open mind and maybe even forgive you,” Clint smirks and Bucky knows he’s hiding something.

“I'm listening.”

Clint shrugs and pops another fry into his mouth, slowly eating it, keeping Bucky in suspense. “Steve would never deny his boyfriend anything,” he says stone faced and matter of fact.

“You shut your whore mouth!!” Bucky exclaims from the bombshell that was just blatantly dropped drawing the attention of people around them.

“Shhh Bucky!!! No one knows! Steve's still stuck deep in the closet.”

“No fucking way! I spent all my time with Steve, there's no way!” Bucky says in disbelief.

“Yeah, well we know how not to look obvious and are really good at hiding it. Just keep it quiet please. Steve’s not ready to come out yet.” Clint pleads, worry written on his face.

Bucky nods in silent understanding and agreement. He'd keep his mouth shut. It wasn't his secret to tell and it’s hard telling how people would react to the Captain of the lacrosse team coming out as gay. Bucky would never out anyone and would happily keep this secret and be supportive when the time comes Steve is ready to let it be known.

And as if he knew someone was talking about him, Bucky sees Steve makes his way over to them and comes to a halt at the table, nervously shifting on his feet. “Hey Clint… Bucky,” Steve says, digging his hands in his pockets.

Eyes shift around awkwardly between the three of them, no one making conversation, tension high from this unexpected turn of events.

“Well, this is uncomfortable… Steve? Ready to go to class?” Clint asks standing up from the table.

“Yeah, sure. Be right there?” Steve eyes meet Clint in a silent understanding. Clint nods and waves to Bucky before taking off, disappearing into a crowd of kids.

Steve stands in front of Bucky and he can see the uncertainty of whatever brought him over. He's sure Steve's gonna yell at him or threaten him with a ‘stay away from my sister’ talk and is the reason he appears out of sorts right now.

“I think we should talk.” Steve finally says after a long silence. “Not now… we gotta get to class. After school, maybe?”

Bucky swallows hard, relieved to have the impending death talk delayed until later. “Yeah, I'd like that. After school’s good.”

“Ok. I'll-I’ll see ya later.” Steve quickly turns and leaves without wasting another awkward second.

“Later,” Bucky replies already too late for Steve to hear, the taller boy making his way through the crowd and out the door.

Wow, Bucky thinks as he grabs his plate and heads over to the trash. This was not how he thought today was going to go. Today started out happy, finally gaining the attention and relationship he wanted, now he’s gotta worry about Steve and the ‘talk’ after school. Throw in a side bomb of Clint and Steve and this has got to be the most epically fucked up day of his young life. Oh, well. At least in this world full of crazy he blends right in.

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floosies · 4 years

Text

Trouble Chpt. 6

paring: mob!bucky/mob!frank x reader

summary: Your brother Frank was man who looked for trouble and Bucky was just that. As much as he tried to make sure you didn’t get involved trouble, he knew it wouldn’t stop you from getting involved with it.

authors note: This chapter took forever and I feel awful about that. I have my finals for this quarter coming up so it’s been a stress. Also Happy Birthday Bucky Barnes! P.S. this is a filler chapter but believe me the next two chapters will be a hoot!

warnings: cursing, violence, blood, and smut

Series Masterlist

The plans were made and by the end of the week Elizabeth could walk well enough to lounge at a beach. Frank was still pretty pissed off about the whole situation of his sister and his boss beginning to agree on things. Karen kept him from becoming paranoid though, through distractions of course. The trip would consist of those who saved Lizzie’s life.

In the boss’s office, they called in the three guys who saved Bucky’s best gal. She couldn’t stand for too long so by the time they entered she was sat, “this chair is gonna be the death of me.” She said a bit warily, Bucky smiled at her trying to empathize with how she felt. The men walked in, “you wanted to see us Boss?” Barton asked with a sense of caution, “not me Clint, the lady here did.” Bucky answered coolly, all eyes now on Elizabeth in her chair, a smile and bright eyes looking back at the intrigued faces.

Before confusion could further, she spoke sweetly, “I’ll get right to it, you three saved my life out there. I’m very thankful for it,” she began, “it was no problem ma’am, just doing our job.” Wilson said with a tugging smirk, to be honest they all looked very smug right now, because they never were really top dogs to their boss until now. She giggled a bit at the cocky attitude and continued, “well, as a way to repay you guys, I was hoping you’d like to accompany us on a little trip to Santa Catalina?” Parker’s eyes lit up like a kid on christmas and the other two guys looked at the boss for confirmation. Bucky nodded in agreement, “we’re serious boys.” He said sternly to the men, who were still in a bit of shock. Clint however went from shock to a more somber face, “i’m gonna have to turn down that offer, I’m sorry ma’am,” Elizabeth looked a bit confused, the other two did for a second as well before remembering why he had to turn down the invitation.

With a sense of worry she asked, “is everything alright?” He gave a look at James who nodded, “everything is fine ma’am-” “just Lizzie, is fine” she interrupted softly, “Lizzie, it’s just there are priorities for me here.” “He’s got a family,” Bucky explained to her. “Oh, of course. Well then, maybe we could help you out, anything ya need?” He smiled at her kindness, Bucky interjected “we’ll figure something out later.” Then they were dismissed and it was just the man in charge and a girl who was falling for him more and more.

The day of the trip came, and Frank was still not having it. Thank God for Karen Page and her optimistic thinking. Black Ranger Rovers pulled forward, inside the cars was a couple and some men who were beyond excited to go off the clock; they still brought a couple hand guns and other things (Frank included). Elizabeth though still hurting a bit when she walked, carried on. Bucky wouldn’t have it though, she’d barely survived, he’d gotten to the apartment and carried her to the car.

She was giggling the whole time, as they reached the “Frank is gonna kill ya, you know that right?” He smirked at the idea of making old Frank pissed off, “he can try doll,” he said. Meanwhile Karen was trying to bring some sanity onto her pissed off date, “let her be happy. C’mon you and I deserve this break and she’s gonna be safe with us there.” Frank scoffed as a response, closing the door on their way out. Luckily they packed light, “listen I just don’t want for her to be happy with him. Men like him don’t deserve happiness.” She raised an eyebrow at that, “what about you then, do you not deserve happiness?” He stopped in his tracks and sighed, turning around, he saw her blue eyes filled with concern and wait.

The car ride and flight was very quiet with the men, except Peter who was younger than the other guys and ecstatic about the whole thing. The girls talked among themselves and with him while the others just watched in amusement. Bucky couldn’t stop staring at her though, he knew how he felt about her but there was more growing from that. The only thing growing in Frank was anger. Why would his little sister suddenly start treating this idiot with kindness?

From an outside view, they were just looking to protect her. Oddly enough, they wanted to protect her from each other, from the chaotic and heartless world that they had been given. What made it more of a priority was after she was assaulted. It could be that seeing and living through that brought there levels of protectiveness higher than what it was before.

Nevertheless, now they were boarding a private jet that was only ever used for business. The way the girls eyes shown as they took in all the beautiful things inside the jet was amusing to the guys and Peggy. Karen and Elizabeth looked like kids in a candy store, and Frank loved it. It was surreal to think there was an aspect of life that could be so different from what they knew.

Most of them decided to take some naps as the flight would be a couple hours from New York to the Catalina Islands. Lizzie didn’t remember how but she ended up sat next to Buck, her hand holding his as they watched a movie to pass the time. They knew the comfort wouldn’t last but it was appreciated for the time.

When they landed, no one but James and Steve knew about the welcome party that would be waiting for them. Barnes was a showman though, and having the girl he was falling for be there with him, made him want to put a show. Let her know that there was more than fear and violence in his life. There belongings were handled with care, and they were carted onto a yacht. The boat took them to a planned lunch on a beautiful villa over looking the island. Tropical fruits and mimosas were at the table, even Frank had a small smile. Sam and Peter were blunt about how excited they were. Her eyes met his sharp blue ones, with a happiness she hadn’t felt since she was a kid. Raising a toast, he ensured everyone there was more to come.

#mob!au #mob!steve #mob!bucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #frank castle #jon bernthal #the punisher #anthony mackie #sam wilson #clint barton #jermey renner #peter parker #tom holland #mob!tom

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asgardianthot · 5 years

Text

If anything happens (sambucky)

A/N: this was supposed to be a short one-shot, but I guess I got carried away over my love for these two. Enjoy! 💕

word count: 5644

summary: their feelings for each other have been lost and found and lost again for months. Then Bucky gets injured…

“Oh, my god.” Wanda raised her eyebrows, her elbows up on the counter, “You guys are dating.”

Sam frowned, “What?”

She shook her head with a smile, the news getting her hyped in the most positive and happiest way; she backed away in a less intrusive posture.

“How long has it been going on?”

Yet her cheerful attitude had the man taken aback.

“We’re not dating!” he declared, placing down his cup of freshly-made coffee on the counter, “No, how could we-“

“Oh. I see.” Wanda squinted, however seeing how Sam was clearly waiting for an explanation of her sudden change of words, she mentally agreed to be more verbal with his very clueless co-worker, “You’re downright the stupidest person I have ever met.”

Sam raised his eyebrows with shock and offense.

“Excuse me?”

The young woman had to tone it down, “Look, when you came back from that mission, you talked it through, right?” the response being more cluelessness, she now was furiously rolling her eyes, “Your feelings, dumbass! How you left things, how you want them to continue!”

Processing the thought, Sam held his weight on the counter behind him and limited himself to biting the inside of his cheek. Wanda lowered her head, looking dead into his eyes with utter seriousness.

“You did have that conversation, right?” she pressured.

“No.” He simply replied, suddenly believing there might have been a better approach at the whole Bucky situation, “Why? Should we?”

Bucky had kissed him. Or, perhaps it was Sam who kissed him, the lines of who took the initiative were a bit blurry but the point was that there had been a kiss. A very confused, very desperate, hungry kiss, coming from two mouths that found themselves drawn to each other like they knew they were bound to happen. It had taken months of awkward stares, developing to witty comments which sounded like they held a double meaning and would turn the spokesperson ashamed of ever saying it.

It had taken months of their messy dynamic and mean jokes, months of risking their lives together, months of uneasy proximity, realizing that the other person felt that too. But eventually, Sam let something slip, an implicative comment, an unmerciful glance. Anything could have been that last drop to overflow a glass full of unspoken feelings at that point. And after that one kiss, after that frozen look of want, came another one, and then more, until they shared a three-day period of utter confusion, awkward laughs and needy escapades to get back to each other’s lips.

That was, until Sam got a mission call. It was simple, not risky nor complicated, but it needed a well-thought plan which took a very long time to execute. And so, Sam fled the compound without a word, for he didn’t exactly know what to say when saying goodbye.

Wanda shook her head again, only this time, it was with great disappointment.

“I have no words for you.” At the sound of that, Sam threw an aimless hand in the air along with a puff of air, but she cut him off before he could even start ranting, “You left for months, right after everything happened. How could you not-? What did you tell him that could possibly replace the need for a heart-to-heart?”

Sam thought hard, trying to remember with a big frown on his face what was the actual first thing he said to Bucky when he came back.

He shrugged, “I don’t know, I asked him for an update report.”

Wanda’s mouth fell open, then closed it back up as her anger surpassed her shock.

“An update report.” She repeated, her tone low and full of disbelief.

Noticing the patronizing on her voice, Wilson defended himself, “I’d been gone for months! I had no idea what was going on in the compound, I needed an update!”

“And you couldn’t have asked me?” she reminded him of that possibility, but the intention was to make him realize that he had acted willingly and for a purpose.

As a matter of fact, the more he cracked his head around it, he began to take notice of what was the only thing ringing in his stupid brain the second he set foot in the compound.

“I… wanted to talk to him.” He admitted, a truthful tone exposing a little vulnerability; yet at the sound of no reply, he threw his hands in the air again, “I didn’t know it was such a stupid thing to do!”

“Of course it was, now he thinks you’re not into him, because you avoided the subject with a report!” Maximoff scolded him.

Instead of continuing to bark at each other back and forth, Sam cooled off and showed her his hands in order to communicate that intent.

“Okay, alright, so… What if I… want to talk about it? You know, what do I do?”

The only thing Wanda was able to do was sigh, naturally gaining a smirk across her face when seeing how helpless the man looked.

“I hate being right sometimes.” She let out, a hand on her hip, and found herself needing to explain further one more time, “He thought you guys were dating. You just didn’t get the memo.”

Having pointed her finger at Sam, she walked out of that kitchen without looking back.

“What do you mean?” Wilson tried to get her attention, but it was pointless, “Hey. Wanda, what does that mean?!”

Bucky wasn’t one to be careless over the people in his life. He was constantly worrying about their safety, concerned over the fact that he himself tended to attract bad things and the constant fear and guilt that came with his past. He had more than once believed that the sole fact of having the Avengers close put them in harm’s way, so his concern was not only constant, but silent. Kept to himself.

Nevertheless, when Sam left abruptly for a one-man mission, sent by SHIELD, he had to ask.

“Hey, Clint?” he pointed to a screen when Barton walked in the room, where Bucky had been waiting to receive some explanatory company, “What are these?”

Clint noticed the coded numbers and replied easily, “Wilson’s coordinates.”

The archer resumed to whatever task he had come in for, sitting in front of a desk. However Barnes had his mind railing over the symbols. If his coding skills and knowledge weren’t too rusty, he was right to believe those coordinates indicated proximity. And if his memory of the actual mission wasn’t failing, proximity could only mean his steps had been completed to the point of being almost done, according to plan.

“Which means he’ll be back soon, right?” he dared to ask.

“Should be, yeah.” Barton answered, still focused on his own screen, “Why?”

“What if he’s not?” the soldier couldn’t help but ramble a little, out of pure and genuine uncertainty, “Back soon, I mean. That would be bad news, right?”

That was more than enough questions for Clint to turn his chair around and face him with an odd, suspicious look on his face.

“You growing a soft spot for him or something?” he shot rather rudely, to which Bucky frowned like he didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, “What’s got you so worried?”

It was up to him now to pretend nothing was happening nor had happened; not the kisses, the sentiment exchanges, the touches, the hand guiding into confined spaces, not the butterflies in his stomach nor the excitement in the pit of his stomach when thinking about Sam coming back and resuming where they left off.

“Jesus, I’m sorry for caring.” He forced a scoff through a sentence that had Clint squinting his eyes, for it wasn’t something anyone would expect to come from Barnes’ mouth, “You’re the one who said we needed to look after each other.”

Barton decided to simply snort out loud, mocking the man’s unusual behavior, as he was fully aware that something was going on, even if he didn’t know what that was. So he simply focused back on his task, a smirk on his face still. Bucky squinted his eyes and abandoned the room for good after that.

The worst part about getting a compound alert right when Sam wanted to go talk to Bucky wasn’t the bad timing; it was the lack of agents near reach. The Avengers had become skimpy after all, not truly a unit but more of a disperse team. With only Wanda and Bucky living there permanently –from lack of a better living situation– Sam had followed, merely out of feeling like he had to; like the gratitude of being allowed to be a hero could only be paid by dedicating his life to Avenging. The problem was, it was only them. And Barton, at the moment, when he wasn’t taking time off with his family. The whole ‘I need to be there’ speech quite stuck on him as well.

And they usually would get a better-thought page, one that involved more heroes for the job, or maybe less heroes but along with a proper strategy. Usually, but this this was a SHIELD raid, which meant, they didn’t need plan nor well-thought, they needed quick. So, quickly, the four heroes ran to the quinjet while receiving orders from Fury.

In there, the two men who had been more than tense and avoiding each other, shared looks. Undecipherable looks. Wanda, on her part, was expectant as one would be in a romantic drama type of movie, even shooting glances at Sam, like saying ‘well?’, and the Falcon had no proper answer, even if he could have said something out loud. Bucky, with his upset expression, was definitely not okay with the overall situation. He was focusing on his own boots with a small frown, not wanting to talk and keeping it all to himself. So the silence in the jet was painful.

“And here I thought I’d get a quiet weekend.” Barton broke the tension while flying the quinjet, although his idea of tension was explained by the upcoming mission, and not an emotional quarrel between two soldiers.

Wanda felt even more awkward after that attempt, herself fully aware of what was going on.

“Is Lang still off-radar?” she made a second attempt, asking Clint.

Yet it was Wilson who cut her off, already knowing the answer would be a hard no.

“We don’t need tic-tac, we’re fine.” He reassured them of something he believed to be absolutely true, which was why they hadn’t even bothered to call Rhodey or anyone else for that matter: it was just a raid, it should be a piece of cake, “He’d just get himself stepped on.”

Bucky was left to roll his eyes at the snarky comment. He usually would have comeback and derailed the mocking to an offense towards Sam, turning it on him like they always did jokingly, but for now everything that came out of Samuel Wilson’s mouth pissed him off.

He had, after all, pretended like nothing happened. He had, after all, not even dignify Bucky with a simple explanation, not even to say he wasn’t interested anymore. Nothing. And he had had the balls to shove the moments they’d shared under the table by coming to him first for a goddamn report. That was everything Barnes could think about; how angry he was, how humiliated and vulnerable he felt, for he had welcomed Sam with an anxious smile, and awkward smile like the one Sam had kissed through the first time, one that stated ‘I’ve been waiting for you’. He had put himself out there, only to be rejected in such a chill way.

Hopefully, a signal hit Barton’s visuals in the jet’s screens.

“All communications on.” He called for the rest of the team.

They all complied and heard Fury switch his original orders to new, shouted and hectic ones. It sounded like the situation had worsened, and Fury was not desperate but angry. It hit him differently when it came to his organization; like his work was being violated and tainted. The second they landed, they ran for all hell, both the team and Director Fury all caught up in a frenzy.

It didn’t stop Sam from reaching out to Bucky as soon as he could, though.

“Barnes, we should-“

“Hit the skies, then through the window.” The man cut him off.

He was repeating Fury’s orders to him, like the Falcon wasn’t entirely sure about them. Yet it was all fake, and they both sort of knew it. Bucky was just avoiding him.

Sam squinted his eyes nonetheless, “I know, I was trying to-“

“Your earpiece okay?” Barnes spat.

“It is, I-“

“Then hit the skies and through the window.”

That being said, and very harshly said, he strutted his way, leaving Sam to grunt as he set his wings up and flew away.

Barton led Wanda and Bucky through the subterranean ladder. The latter went in through land for recognition, always right in the line of fire. He couldn’t help it. As they reached the hallways of the occupied facilities, there was nothing but calm and quiet besides them. Only a few seconds later, the shooting broke loose from a group of enemies.

Barnes was the first one to fire back, which gave away their position but was inevitable. He hit one, two, three hostiles while Clint shot one and Wanda threw two out the window. The best sniper in the US Army, indeed. That way, as more hostiles came in the way, the three heroes attacked their way to the communications room where Fury had instructed them to rescue SHIELD agents being held hostages.

“Air’s safe.” Wilson’s word was heard in everyone’s ears through the comms.

Right in that moment, an attacker was disclosed when Bucky reached a corner, and he would have been more apt to hear him coming if he hadn’t been so damn focused on not getting railed up at Sam Wilson’s voice. Since that wasn’t the case, the bullet almost got too close to him. If he got hit, he definitely would blame the man. That one attacker turned out to be more than a dozen, and the ones Bucky didn’t hit or Maximoff didn’t knock out with her powers, ran towards Barton.

“The top floor’s all yours.” The Falcon spoke again, “They look like amateurs.”

Barton scoffed as a man got close enough to be out of reach for his arrows, “They don’t fight like amateurs.” He replied out of breath while taking out the attacker hand in hand.

As he dialogued with Wilson, the archer got punched in the ribs, hard, and felt himself a little cornered before Wanda saved him. As the hostile flew away in a magenta-colored cloud, Clint gave her a nod of gratitude. Meanwhile, Bucky was still at front.

“You have clear entrance.” Sam insisted, “Go now.”

It took one last effort to take out all attackers, resourcing to take them all out through killing. That wasn’t always their intent. Barnes usually tried to neutralize the offense by shooting their legs or shoulders, something they could recover from, instead of adding more deaths to his books. And killing for SHIELD felt even more disgusting to both him and Maximoff. Once they reached upstairs, they broke the communication room, where a few raid-responsible men were aiming their guns at the hostages as a warning.

That was when, perfectly timed, Sam burst through the window and shot two of them. Continuingly, they all four fought the remaining ones.

“See? Told you.” Wilson stated, locking his wings in, “Piece of cake.”

“You and Clint take care of the agents.” Wanda ignored his cocky attitude with more orders, “Barnes, with me.”

The appellee nodded, following behind the woman and leaving the other two to untie the agents and help them out the emergency door. It shouldn’t have to be a difficult task, given how as the agents were freed, they were in full capacity to look after themselves. The sole problem in that mission was the amount of people in that raid trying to kill the Avengers.

As soon as Bucky and Wanda walked through the door, though, they were received by more shooting. As much as Clint or Sam wanted to help, they recognized the first thing to do when facing a new threat was getting the hostages’ hands and feet loose. They fought the guns off. Maximoff was strong enough to send them away and Barnes had perfect aim, so it wasn’t a tough fight but a long one.

Suddenly, a paralyzing sentence was yelled over comms.

“Barnes is down!” the feminine voice rang on Sam’s ears.

And he needed nothing more to leave the agents on their own and run in the same direction the two enhanced had gone before. As soon as he reached them, he saw Bucky thrown on the floor, blood beginning to pool under his body while he held his ribs, grimacing.

“What the hell happened?” he asked loudly to the woman who was still fighting off offensives.

At the lack of response, he switched his sight to the machine gun facing them both. Quite the strategy those amateurs had planned. This wasn’t a machine gun, it was a bloody canon brought up as a last resource, an element of surprise to hurt them when they least expected it. He blocked the bullets with his wings while Wanda destroyed the whole thing and blasted the attackers away. Again, they were most likely dead than injured.

Being able to focus on the injured man now, Sam placed his hands on Bucky’s shoulders.

“Where?” he asked.

The man merely groaned, not even giving a proper response. Therefore, Wilson stuck to the spot that was being held out in pain. He opened his vest and saw the blood coming from right below his chest. He felt the air leave his own body at the sight of it and the possibility of the bullets flooding Bucky’s lungs.

“We need an exit!” the veteran screamed, the desperation invading him.

Maximoff broke the glass window with his powers to allow them a clear exit, letting Sam know she would be helping them out by lifting Bucky swiftly through the air. The Falcon then ran and flew out the window, followed by the floating body. Unfortunately Wanda’s concentration was derailed by the sight of another gun aimed towards her in the distance, fighting him off with one of her hands and losing control over Barnes in the process.

“Bucky!” she yelled more as a way to avert Wilson than as a genuine reaction.

So the winged soldier rushed to catch him mid-air, rather roughly, therefore getting a good cry-out from the man.

“I got you, I got you.” He reassured him as he held him by the armpits, something he thought must have hurt like a bitch, if not by simple deduction, by the sound of Bucky’s painful moan, “I’m sorry, I got you.”

He managed to fly them both to the quinjet, stopping outside and dragging him in as Bucky’s head lulled to his sides, numbed out by pain. When Sam laid him down on the table, he let out a loud groan, which, at least, let the veteran know he was still conscious.

“Tell me where you are.” He tested that consciousness while hectically removing the vest from his body, and admiring how his shirt was soaked in thick blood.

Bucky’s voice was hoarse, “Dumbass jet.”

Sam filed it as an indicative of awareness but asked another question to be sure, “Who am I?”

Barnes couldn’t help a small side smile to grow on his worn out face, his dazed eyes focusing on Sam’s blurry features.

“A fucking moron.” He pulled off.

Wilson was left to stare down at him with a big sad frown, wanting to smile at him for insulting him even on such a state, and he wanted him not to hate him. Not now, not when he was hurt and half gone. If he could go back in time, he sure as hell would, he would talk to him and tell him how he felt, so that he wouldn’t bleed out on the table thinking Sam didn’t want him back. Thinking that the man who was trying to heal his wounds had rejected him.

Suddenly, Bucky’s eyes started closing down and his pupils rolled back into his skull for a second, beginning to faint. Yet Sam grabbed his face not too gently and patted his cheek.

“Hey, hey, no. No! Stay with me!” He said in despair, forcing his eyelids open; the victim groaned as if asking to be left the hell alone, “That’s it, look at me. Can you stay awake? Do that for me?”

Just like an angel fallen to his rescue, the earpieces rang with good news. “Task Forces came in!” Wanda’s voice sounded like the best melody any of them had ever heard in that moment, “Clint, fly the boys home, now!”

“Running.” The other man replied.

“Ya heard that?” Sam asked Bucky, still holding his head, “We’re gonna go home. We’re gonna fix you up.”

He ripped the bloody shirt open and rapidly fetched the medical kit under the table. He stole a glance to count the bullet holes, one, two, three. He couldn’t turn Barnes’ body over in order to see if there were any exit wounds or if he had all three bullets inside him. All he could do for him was press some gauze on the wound. Bucky moaned in pain, loudly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He apologized frantically as he applied more pressure, and Bucky seemed to be woken up by the pain, panting while staring up at the ceiling, “You’re gonna be alright.”

He glared at Sam, “I hate you.” He spat through gritted teeth.

And he wasn’t just speaking nonsense, blindly attacking the man who caused him pain. No, he was also referring to how he was the last person he wanted to be doing that to him. He was so angry at him, he genuinely hated him, and the fact that he was making him ache so badly while doing his best to keep him alive wasn’t helping.

“I know.” Wilson agreed to both things, getting more gauze because the bleeding wasn’t stopping, “Just stay awake.”

Finally, Barton came in, and Sam didn’t even glance at him.

“Get us to the compound! Now!” he barked angrily, not wanting to sound desperate before when it was just him and Bucky, but now all he needed was to save his life.

So Clint did as commanded and soon enough the jet was flying away, the only sounds heard being the quiet hovering noise the jet produced, Bucky’s breathing and complaints, and Sam’s soothing words.

“How’s he doing?” Barton asked after a minute or two of no words being exchanged.

Wilson sighed and cooled himself down before answering, trying not to take it out on Barton, who clearly had no fault in Bucky’s state.

“I’m looking at a… definitely broken rib. Probably multiple. I’m hoping no punctured lung.”

It was the diagnose he had in his head. It explained why it hurt so badly, and he couldn’t not apply pressure or else he would effectively bleed out. No superserum could prevent that, eventually. And if it he was only bleeding out, that would mean they still had a long –although painful- time before his state worsened drastically. On the other hand, if he was also bleeding in…

Barnes chest convulsed for him to cough up, and he coughed up blood. It meant what Sam feared: punctured lung. It made him panic even more, now that it became harder and harder for Bucky to breathe.

“Sam.” He wheezed out.

“Please, please, please.” The man begged, his hands covered in blood and keeping him still while his own voice turned shaky, “Just five more minutes. Hold on just five minutes.”

“Sam…” his voice was now a whisper.

Wilson shut his eyes, teary eyed. Hopelessness kicking in.

“I don’t- I don’t know what else to do.”

Bucky’s eyes were far closed, his mouth gaped slightly as his throat did all the work of trying to pass air towards lungs that wouldn’t cooperate. He sounded less agonizing now, but by the looks of it, that was exactly the situation, with still a few minutes to get him to safety.

When he reopened his eyes, everything was different. The room was silent, for real, this time, no wheezing or panting or jet noises. He didn’t feel pain anymore, and he didn’t have any difficulty breathing. Instead, he felt comfortable and nursed back to health. That was when he took in his surroundings and realized he was on a hospital bed, in a sided room at the compound. Safe and sound, and patched up by the sensation of an unharmed chest.

The second thing he noticed was the company: Sam was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, busy staring at his phone in complete silence. Bucky thought he had probably stayed there waiting for him to wake up, taking the blame for what happened. And Bucky knew it wasn’t his fault, therefore the only reason behind his concern was some sort of pity mission after basically dumping him without words.

As he accommodated himself a little, he felt a mild sting where the bullets used to be, where his ribs had cracked, but it was bearable now. Nonetheless, the sounds caused Sam to notice him.

“Great.” Barnes groaned, placing his back against the pillow, “I didn’t die.”

Wilson, on his behalf, stood up quickly, as if wanting to check on his injuries, or hug him or something. Instead, he remained standing up, awkwardly and not knowing what to do next.

He let out a nervous breath that sounded more like a laugh, “Yeah, thanks for that.”

As a matter of fact, he didn’t have much more to add. He was rather frozen in spot, staring at the man who almost died in his arms, quite dramatically, and with whom he felt he couldn’t be completely honest. The whole ‘not talking about it’ drama had expanded to the point he didn’t even know what he couldn’t talk about.

“Well, I can’t leave you guys alone.” Bucky brushed it off, “I’d be a terrible soldier if I did.”

That was how Sam understood that the former sergeant wasn’t letting anything go. He was purposely shoving their exchanged feelings under the rug so he didn’t have to verbally express how upset he was, which was diminishing both Sam’s feelings for him and how terrified he was in that quinjet.

“Bucky…” he tried, but was cut off immediately.

“Hey, thanks for pulling me out.” The man’s tone was distant but not cold; Sam gave in and nodded to his gratitude, “I’m fine, though, so you can go on with your day.”

That being said, Bucky propped himself up with his elbows, in order to be partially sitting on the bed, but the movements still caused him to groan. It hadn’t been too long after surgery, after all. To the sounds of distress, Sam rushed to give him a hand but the man rejected it harshly.

“Trust me, I’m alright.” He sighed, the pain gone by now, “I don’t need your pity.”

That shot of honesty was all Sam required to cross the unspoken line. He was going to speak and discuss everything he didn’t remember if he was allowed to discuss or not. He took one step back not to invade his privacy.

“Pity? Buck, why do you think I’m here?” he frowned.

The appellee shrugged, “Guilt.” He said easily.

The response brought a smirk to Wilson’s face, but it wasn’t a very positive one. If the term ‘sad smirk’ hadn’t been invented yet, he definitely thought that was the name of the expression he held. Lacking the need for any more proof of the man’s feelings, he moved decisively to sit next to him.

Bucky seemed startled by the gesture, “What are you-“

“Move.”

“No, it’s my bed.”

“I’m sitting with you now, move.”

And so he complied, although still confused and somewhat reminding himself that he should be upset. Sam’s hands guided him to where he could lay down comfortably, and Bucky let himself be manhandled for the sake of his ribs. He wanted to hold him. He wanted to lay next to him for hours and just stare at each other, he wanted Sam’s company. But it appeared since the moment he came back from his mission he didn’t want that back. So now, seeing Wilson lay his dumb head on that hospital bed pillow altered his perception even further.

Sam couldn’t contain a smile as they both looked at each other, not touching but closer than ever.

“You look ridiculous.” Bucky commented on the sight.

“You’re wearing a hospital gown, you don’t look so glamorous yourself.” He shot back, earning the smallest side-smirk from Barnes, who quickly concealed it, “Listen to me. You are one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met, if not the worst of them all.”

The approach had Bucky raising an eyebrow, shocked at best.

“You’re reckless, you’re dumb-“

“Gee, thanks.” Barnes interrupted him with an offended frown.

Sam, however, ignored him and continued his speech, “You are literally the most obnoxious person when it comes to not looking after yourself and you have no regard for your own personal safety nor happiness.”

“Is there a point to all of this?” Bucky insisted, beginning to lose interest in the insult rant, “Cause fuck you too, Sam, jesus.”

Once again, Wilson saw himself forced to avoid a proper answer to seek a lineal sense of coherence in his narration. Instead, he let an amused smile escape him before raising his voice so that his message came across loud and clear.

“So I understand how you would miss what’s right before your eyes. But I’ve never known you to be naïve, Bucky.” Only then did Barnes was at a loss of words, starting to understand Sam’s intent, “You know what happened and you know what it meant. If you would just… let me make up for not talking about it right after I got back… I’d like to discuss it now.”

Bucky wanted to listen. He really did. But the possibility of it becoming a praise tale of how great he was and how much Sam liked him yet ending with ‘however’ and ‘just colleagues’, was something that weighed far more than his excitement. If that were the case, he didn’t want to be stabbed in the heart nor shot in the chest all over again.

“I’m really not interested in your explanation, Sam.” Bucky sighed, against his inner will, “You wanna forget what happened, you can just leave, no hard feelings.”

Sam shook his head and placed one gentle hand on Barnes cheek, some mild disbelief plastered on his own features.

“I don’t know which of us is the dumbest, I swear to god.”

And Bucky understood with all certainty.

“It’s you, it’s one hundred percent you.” He told Sam, not allowing himself to smile.

He meant it, keeping in mind how he hadn’t even mentioned the subject until now even though he wanted Bucky like Bucky wanted him.

“Probably, yeah.” Sam had to agree, “Cause I sure as hell wanted to say I wanted to try that kiss again, and I don’t know why I didn’t say so. Then you were literally dying on my arms and I thought… if anything happens to him, I lost my one chance at being with him, and I really want that chance.”

Bucky clacked his tongue, pensive, “You asked for a damn report.”

“I wanted to talk to you.” Sam tried to explain, “I didn’t know how.”

“You could have just said ‘hi, it’s been a while’.”

“I’ll try that next time.” The words came out instinctively, and he hoped he hadn’t screw up, so he added a stipulation, “If you forgive me.”

Bucky took a big breath. Was hard not to forgive him after that speech.

“Well, I’m very much alive.” He said almost rolling his eyes, “You still want that chance?”

A warm smile creeped its way into Wilson’s face, “I’d like that-“

Yet Barnes didn’t let him finish, instead clashing his lips against the Falcon’s, whose hand that still stood on the soldier’s cheek cupped the entire face tenderly. Bucky’s free hand also went to find the other man, holding the back of his head for good measure, while one of their tongues slipped in softly. It wasn’t as desperate as the other kisses, it wasn’t so needy nor senseless; this kiss, instead felt like the last piece of a puzzle. It felt like it made sense.

When they disconnected their lips and stared deep into each other’s eyes, Bucky’s impulse was to smile, “Here’s an update report for you.” He said cheekily, “I’m still in love with you.”

Wilson drew his face a little back for a better sight.

“Love?”

The soldier suddenly regretted his choice of words, but didn’t want to take the truth back, so he simply went with it.

“You’re not gonna run away now, are you? Fly away in those little wings of yours?”

Of course he would mock Sam as a manner of processing his oversharing. The veteran could only chuckle and affectively place a loose strand of hair behind his ears.

“No, I won’t, love.” He mocked him back, “Gonna take much more than that for you to scare me off.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Yeah, don’t hold your breath.” He added before launching for another kiss.

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lawlerek · 5 years

Text

Pillow fort

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Barton!Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Laura Barton is pregnant with her third child, so you decide to help her with Lila and Cooper. Clint returns home with Natasha – your girlfriend. You and Nat want to have a sleepover in the pillow fort.

Warnings: None, I think?

A/N: Gif’s not mine.

It's a continuation of the being Clint’s younger sister and dating Natasha Romanoff headcanons.

Enjoy! ♥

Only weeks had separated Laura from giving birth. Throughout the whole pregnancy you admired her how well she managed in her delicate state with home and children, but finally came the moment when her belly became too large to move and function freely, let alone look after the two craving attention children. And as soon as she realized that, she stopped refusing your help, so you came back to your old room in house she shared with Clint.

As with the other two pregnancies, you took on most of the housekeeper's responsibilities, allowing your sister-in-law to take her well-deserved rest, but that didn’t bother you. You helped Laura clean up, cook, deal with Lila and Cooper, go shopping, and you accompany your sister-in-law during medical visits. Of course, when Clint was on missions, which, unfortunately, very often happened to him.

Sometimes you talked with Laura about your brother's work. You both wondered if it would be better for the family if Clint had given up the Avengers and retired. After all, none of you knew what Clint's mission would turn out to be his last. You didn’t want your beloved elder brother to leave behind not only you – the only family member who remained of him from childhood, but also a wife and (soon-to-be) three children. Apart from the fact that Clint rarely went home, so Lila and Cooper really barely knew him. Sometimes you hinted at your brother, but you left the real conversation to Laura. After all, she was the wife and housekeeper of this house and it was her burden that rested on her shoulders. She had the best chance to convince her husband to retire.

That day Laura felt worse than usual. She was sore and extremely tired, so early in the morning when you discovered her condition, you ordered her to lie in bed and rest. You wisely contacted the doctor and you took care of her the best you could: you took care of her comfort, brought her meals and water, but you also had to reconcile with Lila and Cooper, so you left in Laura's bedroom an electric nanny in case she needs your help with anything.

After lunch Laura fell asleep, you cleaned up the house and supervised the children who were doing their homework, sometimes helping them when they couldn’t cope with something. But as soon as you all finished, Lila and Cooper wanted to have fun outside. You didn’t want to let them go alone and you couldn’t go with them, so that the electronic nanny wouldn’t lose the range. On the other hand, having fun at home could wake up Laura, and you didn’t want that either.

It was not until you started to stare at Cooper wrapped with the blanket while the boy pulled you by the sleeve of your sweater and said something you no longer heard in your thoughts. But it gave you an idea of how you could spend the rest of the day.

You grinned and kneeled on one knee, grabbing Cooper's hand. You invited Lila to came closer.

”I have an idea” you said. ”From now we're a secret agents in a foreign country...”

”Are we Avengers?” Cooper asked cheerfully.

You nodded.

”We can be, if you want.”

”So are we on a mission? Like dad?” Lila picked up enthusiastically.

”Yes. Unfortunately, something went wrong,” you continued. ”We have been left alone and we must survive in a wild…”

”Africa!" said Lila.

”Canada!” Cooper shouted at the same moment.

You laughed.

”And why in Canada?” you asked still laughing. Cooper just shrugged and you shook your head. ”Maybe on an island inhabited by...”

”UFO!” Cooper interjected again.

You looked at Lila questioningly and when she agreed to the aliens, you went back to explaining your plan.

”We must get food and find shelter. And also come up with a way to get back home. But in a way that no strangers catch us. Got it?”

The kids nodded eagerly, so you separated the tasks. As Lila was the older, you sent her to check if the „alien” (in fact Laura) was still asleep. Then you delegated the siblings to get all the blankets and pillows they can find, of course not disturbing the alien. You, however, took on the mission of finding food.

When Lila and Cooper returned, the three of you built a fort from pillows and blankets. You had flashlights and colored battery lights that Lila took from her room. You drank water and sometimes juice (when one of you took part in a heroic expedition and stole this sweet drink from hands of the giants). You really didn’t know when your game was no longer about hiding from aliens. After some time, it turned into an attempt to save the princess from the hands of a bloodthirsty dragon (when Laura woke up in the evening already in better shape, but still very tired), then in an epic battle with the forces of darkness and many more.

At ten in the evening you checked your sister-in-law, took an empty plate and brought her a pot of fresh water. It was only then that you realized how late it was, so you came back to the children. You wanted to slowly end the game so that you all could clean up and lie down, but you knew that neither Lila nor Cooper would respond positively.

"I found the Source of Eternal Youth," you said in a whisper, as if you didn’t want someone to hear you. "Unfortunately, there is a condition to be able to use it. Brave heroes must first bathe in it and then undergo a sleep trial.”

"A sleep trial? And what is that? " Cooper asked, puzzled, sitting closer to you. He also didn’t dare to speak out loud.

"The Source must know that you are worthy, so it will sends you a dream. Then you will have to pass the test. Unfortunately, no one knows what it is. Everyone undergoes a different sleep trial. "

Lila cocked her head.

"I don’t want to pass it, auntie," she said in a slightly moody voice. "I would like to stay here a little longer.”

You smiled at the girl and stroked her head. You were about to explain that she should take the opportunity, because the Source is only available during the full moon (outside the moon took the shape of a barely visible crescent, but you didn’t want to say anything) when you heard the familiar whirr of propellers. You exchanged a surprised look with children while you listened for a long while.

"Auntie!” Lila shouted happily. "This is support! They will take us from this island!"

"Or is it an enemy that wants to kidnap us,” Cooper said in a serious voice.

"We have to check that!” You said.

You took your weapon (toy bow, a pair of foam swords, a plastic police stick and a gun), then quietly left your hiding place and headed towards the window. The light of the helicopter shone brightly, whose loud hum was still spreading around the area. You saw two dark silhouettes that leaned toward the house and your heart beat faster with joy and excitement. The helicopter re-launched itself into the air again.

When you heard footsteps on the porch, you all hid behind the couch and chairs to have a view of the front door and the people who were going through it. The house was dark, because the decorative Lila’s lamps didn’t give much light.

"I asked him not to come so close.” You heard your brother's voice. "He probably woke everyone up.”

"At least we're gonna have a funny greeting," Natasha said cheerfully. At the sound of her voice you smiled broadly. You wanted to give up your position and be in your girlfriend's arms as soon as possible. You had last seen her a month ago when the world was going to be destroyed and she had to stop it together with the rest of the Avengers.

Clint snorted. You heard him pick up the key hidden under the flowerpot. You and the children didn’t move until the door opened and two dark figures entered. At one moment, the sucker shots fired at the intruders and then you, Lila and Cooper jumped out with the battle cries and began to wrap the visitors with foam swords.

"I give up! Give up!” Clint exclaimed, startled as the two children hung on his neck.

However, you didn’t pay attention to the welcome of your brother with his children, because you were busy checking to see if Natasha would be Natasha, not the bloodthirsty alien.

"As I said: a funny greeting,” redhead summed up, knocking a gladiolus from you and pulling you to her.

You laughed, hugging the woman and then you put a quick kiss on her lips, even though you wanted more. Much more than she could offer you at this moment.

Then Clint turned on the light and to your ears came his astonished voice:

"And what is that, in the name of all saints?”

Somehow your brother managed to get his kids to bathe and then to bed. At the time, you stayed down to clean up the mess you, Lila and Cooper had done and Nat offered you her help. You were good girls when you gathered scattered toys and leftovers, even though you both wanted to get into your arms with the second you were left alone in the living room. Your whole body was demanding her attention, you were thirsty for her voice (despide the fact that you talked on the phone as often as you could – it was still not enough), her mouth and touch. You wanted to inhale her scent and cuddle in her soft body.

That's why you wanted to clean up as soon as possible – to be able to go upstairs to your room that you shared with Nat.

"That's funny," Natasha said. You got up from your knees with a bowl of pretzels in your hands and looked at your girlfriend.

"What?”

Redhead nodded at the fort. She was about to take off the blankets slung over the strings, but she stopped, stroking the cover with dreamy eyes.

"This. Your hideout. I've never had fun like that,” she said coldly and your heart squeezed with grief.

Natasha was a very secretive person. She didn’t like telling about her past, but when she did, it was in a very cold and calculated way, almost impersonal, as if the events she described didn’t concern her. That's why you rarely thought about her childhood. You couldn’t imagine that things that you possessed and seemed normal to you (and yet your childhood didn’t belong to particularly successful ones), they were never like to Nat. It broke your heart.

You glanced at the fort and the words left your lips faster than you could think about them:

"Do you want to sleep here today? It will be fun," you added, trying to be cheerful.

"Don’t you think we're too old for such things, Miss Barton?” Natasha asked, amused.

You hit the woman lightly with your hip.

"I don’t know about you, but I still feel a child inside, Miss Romanoff.”

Natasha gave you a smile so warm it could melt the iceberg.

"I think me too," she replied, smacking you on the cheek.

When Clint went down to the living room to help you clean up, he had little to talk about the fort. He was really grateful he didn’t have to help, so he only thanked you for looking after the children and Laura, wished you two good night and went back upstairs to lie down beside his wife. You and Natasha cleaned up all the toys and crumbs and then you settled comfortably on a pile of blankets.

Redhead turned off the flashlight, but left the colored lights on, which Lila brought. She turned to you and put a hand on your hip. You felt shivers when the woman slipped her fingers under your blouse and began to sketch circles on your skin.

"Are you tired?” you asked, seeing the bags under her eyes. You touched her face and then Nat smiled and kissed your hand.

"It was worse," she answered with a mysterious smirk on her lips. "And I still have plans for this night.”

"Oh?”

Natasha made a humming sound as she came a little closer and her lips touched your forehead. The woman's fingers stopped drawing circles on your hip and instead Natasha slowly put her hand in your pants. You approached your girlfriend and clutched her forearm while Natasha worked magic with her fingers.

"I really missed you," she whispered in your ear.

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redfoxwritesstuff · 5 years

Text

Coffee and a Wedding (chapter 5)

Look, it’s the posting day where I don’t hurt everyone. A bit of news before we get to that, however. I just hit 400 followers and I adore you all. I can’t believe 400 of you want to follow me but know I am always thankful.

~~~~~<3

Chapter 5

It was warm and the bed was so comfortable. Warmth surrounded me and it felt like I was sleeping on a cloud. I could stay this way forever. I wanted to stay this way forever. There was soft snoring behind me. It was a constant reminder that I wasn’t alone. As soon as the day started, I’d had to put on the face and pretend like I didn’t mean everything I said.

Right now, it was safe. Clint was asleep next to me and the bed was warm and comfortable. A sigh slipped from between my lips as I rolled over to face my sleeping bed mate.

Light brown hair that could almost be called a dark dirty blonde was a mess, sticking up every which way. Lips parted and stubble was heavy on his face. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and feel the scratch of it but instead, I only watched.

As I watched, he shifted and scratched at his stomach through the blankets. He mumbled something, I couldn’t make it out and that was probably for the better anyway. I watched in subtle fascination as he tossed his arm up over his head only to have his hand smack hard against the ornate headboard.

He grumbled again as he yanked his hand down. I needed to get up. It wouldn’t do to get caught watching him sleep like some sort of creeper. One sigh, than another and I rolled over, completely intent on getting up and starting the day.

Clint however, though he was still snoring, seemed to have a different idea. With a grunt and another scratch, he rolled over. I tried to slip out of the bed but as I scooted, his leg reached around and hooked over my hip. I froze, hoping that he would- honestly, I don’t know what I was hoping for.

His foot wiggled as he pushed it down, slipping his toes between my thighs. His arm joined the party, draping over me and slipping around my side. More mumbled words slipped from him as he tightened his grip and in the process, pulled me flush against him.

What was that sound?

That was the sound of my heart stopping. We were tangled in blankets but I could feel every bit of him. I could feel the muscle in his arms flex as he tried to pull me even closer. I could feel his chest expand with each breath. I could feel his puffs of breath in my hair.

I could also feel his… oh my god, kill me now. Good morning, Clint Barton. Someone’s standing at attention first thing in the morning. At least I knew his… parts all appeared to work as well as I had hoped and daydreamed. I could feel so much of him. He was sizable and firm and throbbing. If I closed my eyes I could pretend that-

Oh my god. What the ever loving fuck was I thinking? He’s my boss. We’re not actually dating. He doesn’t like me like that. I shouldn’t be thinking about his-

Clint rolled his hips against me, a soft groan falling from his lips.

Nope. Nope. I needed to get out of this bed right now. With a deep breath, I lifted his arm off of me. It took effort to wiggle my upper body out from under him while he, in his sleep, kept trying to capture me in his arms again.

I thought I had more room. It’s a king sized bed for god’s sake! So, needless to say, it surprised me when I finally got out of reach of his arms I slipped off the edge of the bed. Head first, of course and I landed with a thump on my shoulder.

“What happened?!” Clint was up in a instant. He was on his hands and knees, looking over the side of the bed at my crumpled form. For a moment I considered crawling under the bed and hiding because, really? Now he wakes up?!

“I fell.” What the hell else could I say? He had eyes. He could see me in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“Get up here.” He reached down and offered me a hand. I spent a few extra moments admiring how the soft light from the cream curtains in the window played over his muscles and framed his upper body before taking hold of his hand. “Off the floor with you.”

Again with the strength I kept marveling at, he pulled me up off the floor and onto the bed with him. It was a fascinating show, being able to watch how each muscle twitched and moved. The momentum of the pull brought me up far faster than I would have liked. I was too distracted watching him and trying to keep my drool within my mouth to pay attention to getting my feet under me.

Rather than standing when Clint pulled me up, I followed the momentum forward and right into my almost naked boss. I had to repeat that to myself, over and over again as my hand hit his firm chest and we fell back together in a heap. A laugh slipped out of him as his arm wrapped around my waist. He caught me and held me close for reasons I couldn’t even begin to understand.

And then, that hand slipped from my back. It was as if he realized that though we shared a bed last night, it wasn’t for any reason that mattered. Still, the way his hand dropped- it stung. He was probably reminding himself that I’m only his employee just like I was reminding myself he was only my boss.

It still hurt though. I scrambled to get off of him without touching him. My leg brushed against a hardness in his boxers as I climbed off of him and it was so damn hard to pretend like I didn’t notice. He had to have felt it. Hell, he had to know I felt it.

But we’re adults here, right? So we could address this and move on, like adults, right? It didn’t have to make things weird while we’re on this trip. It didn’t have to make things weird after this trip. I could act normal, even though I’ve felt my boss’ cock through his boxers, right?

Clint shifted in the bed, sitting up and clearing his throat. The sound of it drew my eyes back to him and inevitably toward the tent around his crotch. The slit in the fabric was straining and when he shifted…

Yep, it was time to get up. I needed to get up and get dressed. Without a single word, I scrambled to the edge of the bed and launched myself to the dresser. Without care, I grabbed a handful of clothes and locked myself into the bathroom.

With the door shut behind me, I leaned against it and closed my eyes. A moan wanted to slip from my throat. The sight of him had burned into my mind. I could still see it oh so clearly. I could see the head of his cock through the fabric. I could see the shape, the ridge of the head imprinted where he strained against the thin fabric. Through the slit in his boxers I could see the color, violently pink. He was engorged and begging for attention that I would love to give it if only we were not playing pretend.

“He is my boss.” It was a whispered prayer as I started the shower.

“You okay?” The voice of my personal demon came through the door.

“Fine.”

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” There was a thump and it sounded a lot like Clint leaned against the door. “Look, if I did, I’m sorry. But if I don’t know about it, I can’t make it better. I can’t change it. If it’s from sharing the bed- I can sleep on the couch next time.”

“No!” Well way to play it cool. “I just- I really had to pee and figured I’d take a quick shower is all. I’m good. You’re good. We’re good. Right?”

“I know it’s a bit weird.” He didn’t sound all that reassured. I’d never heard him sound quite like this. It was like a wall I didn’t know he had up had fallen down sometime in the middle of the night. “You’re the best employee I have. I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you that, but you are. I know I can be a handful sometimes but I just… You had talked yourself into a corner and I wanted to help you out. I never thought about… If you even wanted my help. If you want me to go at any point, I will.”

This was beyond weird. It would save me untold amounts of embarrassment, having him leave. I could even blame Matt, say he offended Clint so much he felt the need to leave. I had an out. Clint had an out. But he was leaving the choice up to me. But it didn’t sound like he wanted to leave. It sounded like there was so much more meaning to his words and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand what that meaning was.

Truth be told, I didn’t want him to leave. After telling him so, I took a shower. A long shower, as hot as I could stand it. I tried to burn away the impure thoughts and when that didn’t work, my hand snaked down between my legs. Whimpering moans slipped from my lips as I brought myself to a sweet orgasm with thoughts of Clint, naked and between my legs.

Clint let out a low whistle when I finally emerged from the bathroom. When he motioned for me to do a spin, I indulged him. It was impossible to resist the urge to sway my hips as I spun.

“Looking good.” The complement was slow and drawn out. “I expected you to look good since you took so long I had to go use the lobby bathroom to pee but still damn impressive.”

“Sorry!” After spending what I could admit was something resembling a year in the shower I couldn't be displeased with his reaction. I had taken my time doing my hair and makeup. I did feel a bit guilty about holding the bathroom hostage for so long enough that he had to resort to going to the lobby to use theirs. “Why didn’t you ask?”

“Figured you had something you were working through. It- I know you were going through something this morning and we don’t have to talk about it. I hope its not something you’ll hold against me. Going to the lobby for my morning piss so you can have the time you need to work through whatever and to come out looking this damn good- worth it.”

“You should have knocked.” It was worth trying to convince him otherwise even if in truth, I did need that time. It helped me get my head on straight after seeing way more of my handsome ass boss than I was mentally or emotionally prepared for. Someday, he would find a girlfriend, a real girlfriend and he would fall in love with her. She would be damn lucky to have a man who would rather go to the lobby to pee than disturb her while she was doing her hair or makeup.

“And interfere with you getting ready- never!” With a roll of my eyes, I turned my back on Clint and his dramatic hand to his chest. “So, what’s the plan today?”

“I’ve got the bachelorette party tonight.” Things felt almost normal as I made my way to the small dining table with a breakfast spread out. “Did you get us breakfast?”

Looks like a long shower, doing my makeup and hair did nothing to spruce up my brain. Way to step up and state the obvious.

“Yeah, figured after all that primping, you would be hungry.” It was hard not to look into his eyes as he sat down across from me. His foot brushed against my shin as he crossed his legs under the table and I tried to ignore it. “Excited for the party?”

“No, not really.” I admitted. “I’ve never been to one before and I’m sure it’s not like the movies.”

“Probably.” Clint shrugged as he shoveled some eggs into his mouth. “But it could be. I've been to some that were like the movies, some that were not. Bachelor parties, not bachelorette.”

“One could hope. At least the party would be entertaining.”

“Don’t cheat on me with a male stripper, okay?”

“I promise not to cheat on my fake boss boyfriend.” I almost choked on my potatoes laughing.

“Real boss, fake boyfriend!” Clint covered a waffle with too much syrup and refilled his coffee.

“Your coffee is better than this.” I don’t know what possessed me to say it but it wasn’t a lie.

“Careful.” Clint eyed me over his mug. “Talk like that and I could fall in love with you.”

~~~~~<3

“Talk like that and I could fall in love with you.” His words ran through my mind on repeat as I glared at my second drink. This party wasn’t much of a party at all. Matt Matthews was a man from a large family of women, it turned out. And that family was likewise from a large amount of money.

They made up a large portion of the party and leaned toward a classier type of event. I sat here, sipping on a red wine that likely costs about as much as I make in a week. I had a paint brush in one hand while my thoughts were running wild. They tended to dart between that thing Clint had said- completely in jest, I’m sure- and how Sarah was not the type to call a ‘sip n’ paint’ class a ‘party’.

Soft voices whispered as the instructor described methods of blending colors for sunsets. Globs of paint moved across canvases and every so often there was a sniffle or cough. It was nice enough, I guess.

It took everything I had to not go for the third glass of wine as the class came to an end. I was already getting looks from the snobbier members of our party for finishing my second glass.

“That’s oddly dark, for a sunset.” Marci, Matt’s sister commented while standing next to me. The room was open and she didn't have to stand so close while looking disapprovingly at my painting. “You should have used more yellows and oranges.”

I shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“Why did you use so much purple, anyway?” Sarah asked. I assumed she was trying to come to my rescue but it was hard to be sure anymore.

“Clint likes purple.” The words were out before I could stop them. Damn wine.

“Ahh, so this is for your boyfriend.” Sarah teased, a warm smile on her face.

“Matt told me about him. Said he’s your Sugar Daddy or something?”

“Excuse me?” Sarah and I gaped at her, our voices mingling into one in indigence.

“Matt- he was telling us that you were seeing your boss for job security or his money or something?” Her voice was hesitant, as if she was suddenly unsure of the facts. “Matt said you had an arrangement with him?”

“Nope.” The word felt like ice as I forced it out. In no way ever did I expect that I was going to have to defend my fake relationship with my boss like this. “Clint would never- I would never agree to that. I’m with Clint because I love him. He’s with me because he loves me. I don’t get special treatment at work. I don’t get extra pay. I don’t get anything but Clint from the deal.”

“Oh- I’m sorry. Please excuse me, I misunderstood.” Marci retreated with her painting, leaving me fuming with Sarah at my side.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to Matt- I’m sure she just misunderstood what he said...”

“Right.” The word is brittle in my mouth. “Why a ‘Sip n’ paint’ for the party? Really? It isn’t like you, it’s not what you talked about having as a kid and teen? I thought you wanted a real party?”

“Matt and I agreed that since his family was going to be a part of our parties that we would keep things classy. Limited drinks, classy activities.”

“No strippers.” I offered, cracking a smile regardless of how Marci’s words still stung.

“No strippers.” Sarah agreed. “For either of our parties. It was Matt’s idea and I think it’s a great way to start a marriage, not ogling to bodies of others.”

~~~~~<3

“Welcome home babe!” Clint called as soon as I opened the door and it made my heart so warm. If only it wasn’t an act performed on the off chance I wasn’t alone.

“It’s only me.”

“Welcome home just the same.” Clint stood from the desk where his laptop was set up and offered me a warm smile. It wasn’t fair that he was only my boss. “How was the party?” After a beat he added, “Is that a painting?”

“Yep.” I let the p pop, tossing the painting onto the couch. “The party was a ‘sip n’ paint’ party and the music was classical. The wine was expensive. Hope you had more fun than I did.”

“Matt called.” I grunted and Clint laughed. Should I even tell him about what Matt was saying about us? Did it matter? “Invited me to his bachelor party tomorrow night.”

“Don’t get excited. They’re having classy events. No strippers, only light drinking. If you’re lucky you won’t have to paint.”

“Aww, I was looking forward to painting a night sky to match yours!” Clint picked the painting up and leaned it against the wall on top of the desk. “So I can see it while I work.”

“Why? It’s shit.” Okay, I was more than a little bitter about how the night had gone. I had all these ideas of what the party should have been like and every single one of them had shattered. It wasn’t fair.

“I like it, though.” Pride was radiating off him and I rolled my eyes. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I flopped onto my back on the bed with a huff. “I guess I’m just disappointed.”

Clint flopped next to me and I tried to ignore how his fingers brushed mine. “So, let’s go out. Your hair is still all done, your makeup is still flawless and you’re as beautiful as you were when you left for the party. Let’s go out to the club and have our own party.”

~~~~~<3

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