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haveanotherfandomblog · 8 months

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Avengers Preferences

How You Meet

Masterlist

Captain America/Steve Rogers-

Working for the infamous Nick Fury was a hard job as it was. Now working for him as and being his goddaughter was a whole other level of difficult. Behind closed doors, he was gentler and loving in his own, unique way. However, in public, it was strictly professional. You didn’t receive any special treatment and were held to the same standard as every other agent. You didn’t mind, it was how it was and you were understanding.

Fury had been proud and excited when you decided to become a SHIELD agent. As you quickly rose through the ranks, you began working closely with Phil Coulson and Maria Hill. You also worked closely with Hawkeye and Black Widow. In fact, they were the ones who recommended you for the Avengers Initiative. Fury protested at first because of Tony Stark, but with some help from Hill and Coulson, he relented.

To welcome you and bring some positive light to himself, Tony Stark threw one of his legendary parties. Opting for a more modest look, especially considering your godfather was there, you wore a dress that stopped at your knees and some comfortable flats. You kept your makeup minimal and natural as well. After you were satisfied with your appearance, you made your way to the party.

The party was indeed just as grand and lavish as everything Tony Stark did. People mingled about, barely acknowledging you despite the party being in your honor. You didn’t really care though. You knew they were just here for the free booze. You pushed your way to the bar where you saw Natasha and Maria talking.

“Ladies,” you greeted. They smiled and waved you over, handing you a glass full of sparkling liquid.

“Hey, you look cute,” Maria said. You smiled, tilting your head.

“Well, it was this or sweats,” you jested. Natasha let out a snort, smirking behind her glass.

"Ah! Here she comes. The woman of the hour," Clint announced. You playfully rolled your eyes.

“There she is! The woman of the hour!” Clint announced as he made his way to you. You playfully rolled your eyes. He waved over two figures. “Y/N, meet Dr. Banner and Thor.” Dr. Banner was a small man with glasses who looked completely uncomfortable. His hair was a curly mess as he rubbed his hands together, eyes darting in every direction. Thor seemed more at ease in this environment. He gave you a big smile, grasping your hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice booming over the loud music and other party-goers. He was a giant compared to everyone with long, blonde hair.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” you replied. The six of you engaged in small talk, well, more like you Maria. Natasha and Dr. Banner had some weird, and slightly awkward flirting thing going on between them that you wanted absolutely nothing a part of. And Clint and Thor were trying to outdrink each other. Though from the look of it, Thor was winning easily.

After a while, Phil came up to congratulate you. He nodded towards the other side of the room where you spotted Fury talking to America’s own golden boy, Captain America. Though they appeared deep in conversation, Fury waved you over. Phil gave you a pat on the back as he replaced your spot next to Maria.

“L/N. I want you to meet your new leader, Captain Rogers. Rogers, this is your newest recruit, Agent Y/N L/N.” You nodded your head, sticking your hand out. He grasped your hand, shaking it firmly. His hands were surprisingly soft--just like his baby blue eyes. He gave you a boyish grin, causing you to smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Agent L/N,” he told you.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Captain Rogers,” you replied. He gave you a boyish grin, scratching behind his ear.

"Please, call me Steve."

"Y/N."

Iron Man/Tony Stark-

Most people spent their Friday nights at the bars, getting wasted with friends and hitting on strangers. Not you though, you worked well into the night. You were at the bar too, but you were behind the counter, watching as everyone made fools of themselves. Though, you didn’t usually work on Friday nights, but your coworker had convinced you to cover their shift, a stupid decision on your part. While the amount of money you would make would be amazing, having hundreds of people scream for your attention wasn’t.

This Friday night was no different than any other. Loud, drunk adults slurred their orders to you as they attempted to flirt with each other. The night seemed to drag on as you continued to make drinks and throw away napkins with scribbled numbers on them. And as the night progressed, and the crowd around the bar slowly but surely diminished, you were able to relax somewhat. You were just about done with creeps staring at your tits.

You were cleaning a glass when someone called for you. You set the glass down and turned around, throwing the rag over your shoulder. If you weren’t so tired, you probably would have choked on air when you saw Tony Stark: genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and freaking Iron Man sitting at your bar. You walked over to him, resting your forearms on the bar.

“What’s your poison, sweetcheeks?” you asked. He licked his lips, peering over the rim of his glasses at you. You quirked a brow, staring at him expectantly.

“I’ll have your best whiskey--neat.” You nodded, turning to pour him his desired drink. Despite his television persona, the man at least had taste. You handed him his drink, watching as he took a long sip. He nodded his head approvingly. “This is perfect. You know, I could give you my best later. Though I can’t promise it’ll be neat,” he said with a wink. You let out a snort, shaking your head.

“Sorry sweetcheeks, but you’re gonna have to do better than that. I thought you were a playboy?” you teased. He chuckled, shooting you a wink. You didn’t see him much after that, he seemed to have disappeared from the bar, probably in the arms of some hot, blonde, model. You shook your head, continuing to clean the counter. Guys like him didn’t go for girls like you. Not seriously.

Your shift finally ended when the bar closed around two o’clock. Relief flooded your body as you collected your tips and clocked out. You bade your coworker a good night and began your trek home. While you were walking under the streetlights, your skin began crawling. You looked around but couldn’t see anyone around you. Quickening your pace, you marched on, your purse clutched in your hand.

You were almost to the front stoop of your apartment when a pair of arms wrapped around your body, yanking you into a dark alley. One of the hands covered your mouth while the other was wrapped securely around your arms and body.

“Hey baby. Wanna have some fun?” slurred a voice. You rolled your eyes despite the danger you were in. You struggled to break his grip on you, but he was a lot stronger than he appeared. “Calm down baby, I’m not gonna hurt you.” His breath reeked of alcohol, making you want to gag.

“Maybe not, but if you don’t let her go, I’m going to hurt you.” The drunk let go of you and scampered away. You fell back against the nearby wall, taking deep breaths.

“Thank you, so much,” you said, turning your head. You certainly weren’t expecting to see Iron Man standing on the sidewalk outside the alley way. His face lifted up, revealing Tony Stark beneath the mask.

“So… about my previous offer.” You shot him a harsh glare. He held his hands up, taking a step back. “Kidding, although, I should at least get your number. You know, in case you need me to save you again.” You rolled your eyes but pulled your lipstick out of your bag anyway, writing your number on the arm of his suit.

Hulk/Dr. Bruce Banner-

After the New York incident, your brother, Clint Barton, had been very adamant about you moving in with him. Well, he actually wanted you to move in with Laura, but you refused to live on a farm. Tasha and your brother had helped you move from your tiny apartment to your room at the compound, located conveniently next to Clint’s.

Tony came to help as well. As well as to see one of his favorite college buddies. Oh yes, you, him and Rhodey had all gone to college together, though you were a few years younger than them. He’d been more than happy to hear you’d be moving into the tower.

Once everything had been unpacked and put into its place and you were settled, Clint took you up to meet the rest of your housemates. They were all waiting around in a lounge room with Tony, naturally, in the center of the crowd, talking animatedly about himself.

“Mini Me!” he cried when he saw you. He dramatically sauntered over to you, wrapping you in a hug. Your brother, usually not fond of men near you, had no problem with Tony. You returned his hug. “A pleasure to have you finally join us.” You chuckled, detangling yourself from him. Clint wrapped his arm around your shoulders, guiding you to the rest of the Avengers.

“Guys, this is my sister, Y/N. Y/N, this is Steve Rogers, Thor, and Dr. Bruce Banner.”

“It’s great to finally meet you all,” you told them, flashing them your dazzling smile. “Clint has told me so much about you guys.” Thor was the first to approach you, pressing a quick kiss to the back of your hand.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Y/N.” You let out a giggle, covering your cheek.

“Oh, I like you.” He flashed you a bright smile which you happily returned. Steve said hello, offering you a simple handshake. Bruce was more timid, giving you a curt nod and a small wave. You found his semi-flustered state cute, and it kind of melted your heart.

“So, uh, what’s the story behind Tony’s nickname for you?” Steve inquired. Before you could reply, Tony was wrapping his arm around your shoulders, answering for you.

“Well you see, Capsical, this marvelous, young woman here is party central. You guys thought I was crazy--this girl--this girl is crazier. Her knowledge of alcohol is unbelievable and her ability to attract the male gaze is unbeatable.” Clint glared at that last part, rolling his eyes. You brushed Tony’s arm off, crossing your arms over your chest.

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I did get two degrees in art and design and biochemical engineering.” The rest of the Avengers let out ooh’s at Tony. He threw his hands up in defense, bowing his head down. Clint brought his hands to your shoulders, shaking you slightly. You glanced over to Bruce, watching as he quickly averted his gaze from you, finding the ceiling far more fascinating.

Hawkeye/Clint Barton-

Being handed the wrapped flag was never something you thought would actually happen to you. The soldiers had been very helpful, offering to drive you to where you needed to go. You could only really go to one place. You’d just lost the only family you had left. You gave the soldiers the address and sat in the back of the car, staring out the window.

They asked for confirmation about the address when they pulled up to the Avenger’s Tower. You simply thanked them for their time and stepped out of their car. You held the flag close to your chest as you walked past agents and tower workers and went straight to the elevator. Tears welled in your eyes as the doors closed behind you.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y,” you called, your voice cracking. “Take me to the floor Tony’s on.” You really hoped he was in the room or in his lab.

"Right away Ms. L/N," the AI replied. You stood in the elevator, tears threatening to spill as you waited for the elevator to open. You rushed out when the elevator doors opened but stopped short when you saw Tony surrounded by the Avengers.

Once they did, you froze in your place. Tony had been your friend since college. You knew that you could always depend on him to be there for you, especially now. The other Avengers who surrounded him however, you were less than certain about. You contemplated leaving when F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed in.

“Sir, Y/N L/N is here to see you.” He turned his head with a smile, opening his arms. His eyes traveled to the flag in your arms and his face fell.

“Oh… Y/N.” You lip quivered as you cast your eyes down, tears blurring your vision. You heard footsteps approaching you and a pair of arms wrapping around you. “Y/N.” Tony stroked your head as your body began shaking.

"They're--they're gone," you choked out.

"Who's gone?" the other guy inquired. You tried answering, but all that came out were choked sobs. "Hey, Y/N, I'm going to need you to breathe. Inhale. Hold. Exhale." After repeating the exercises a few times, your breathing was steady.

"Y/N, what happened?" Tony asked again.

"S/N was killed in combat," you said, fresh tears welling up in your eyes. "I just lost my whole family." You began hiccupping violently, making it hard to breathe.

"Clint, take her to my room. I'll be there shortly," Tony ordered. Clint led you to Tony's penthouse suite. He sat you on the bed, rubbing your shoulder.

"Thank you." You attempted to give him a weak smile.

"Feel better. I'm sorry for your loss," he told you, returning your smile with a soft one.

Thor Odinson-

Being one of SHIELD’s top agents came with both perks and nuances. Perks included always being in the loop of every underground operation, including the fact that Phil Coulson faked his death. Nuances included being hyper-aware of everyone around you at any given time, friends and foes alike.

Tony Stark inviting you to a party, well, all of SHIELD, was inviting paranoia. Your coworkers assured you that you were just in work mode, and this would help you relax. To appease them, you begrudgingly agreed to go.

You didn’t dress up, opting for a casual look to help you blend in. You made sure you were armed before finding a seat at the bar. Natasha was playing bartender, her eyes seeing everything all at once.

“Don’t have too much fun there,” she said, gesturing down to your cup of barely touched water. You lifted your brows quickly, looking back at the other SHIELD agents partying their hearts out.

“No promises.” She let out a snort, moving to mix another cocktail.

The hairs on the back of your neck began to stand up. You let your highly trained eyes scan the room, but you didn’t see anything. Then a thought hit you. You glanced up, searching the ceiling until you found a pair of eyes looking down at you from the vents. They shot you a wink before disappearing. Your eyes narrowed until you heard a cough behind you.

You turned to find the Prince of Asgard behind you, dressed more casually than you’d see him before. You raised a brow, looking him up and down.

“Good evening my lady. I am looking for our mutual friend Barton. Do you know where I can find him?” You glanced back towards the vent, waiting for the Prince to follow your gaze.

“Sorry, your Highness. Can’t say I’ve seen him,” you told him. He turned and found you staring at the vent. He gave you a big grin, bowing his head.

“A shame. I hope I haven’t disturbed you.”

“Not at all.”

“If that’s the case, I’d love a dance.” You turned back to Nat who was motioning for you to go. You bit your tongue, looking around the room.

“How can I--” You trailed off. From the corner of your eye, you spotted another coworker sitting at the other end of the bar. Her eyes kept flickering between her drink and the jacket that covered some guy’s arm from the elbow down. “Hold that thought.”

You set your untouched water down, moving down the bar. Nat followed you, keeping an eye on you. You carefully took out one of your concealed knives, pressing it to the guy’s back. He tensed immediately, allowing for your coworker to slip away.

Unfortunately he wasn’t the only undercover spy. A mass shoot-out took place, bullets whizzed by, glass shattered, and bodies hit the floor. Thankfully, most SHIELD agents survived unharmed.

You watched as Maria, Clint, and Nat hauled the last of the spies out of the party, handcuffs on their wrists. Thor approached you as you finished giving your statement, holding tightly onto Mjölnir. He opened his mouth to say something, but Clint called for you, waving you towards one of the SUVs.

“Raincheck on that dance?” you called back, jogging towards the van. Thor bowed his head, lifting Mjölnir briefly. You shot him a wink, sliding into the car before it took off.

Quicksilver/Pietro Maximoff-

Drinking was not something you did very often. Drinking alone was something you only did within the comfort and safety of your own apartment. So why were you sitting alone at a bar on a Friday night? Well, your boyfriend had a terrible accident. He tripped and fell into your manager’s bed.

“Well hello there.” You tipped back another shot, setting the cup back down onto the bar. You turned slowly in your seat to stare at the blurry man now seated next to you. Raising a brow, you moved to rest your head in your hand. “Hey Sweetheart. I hate to bother you, but I could really use your number?” the stranger asked.

“I think you could use a better line,” you slurred, rolling your eyes. You turned back to face the bar, staring down at your empty shot glass. From your other side you heard someone laughing. Glancing over, you could only make out another blurry man with almost white hair. “Can I help you?”

“Do you know who you just turned down?” he asked with a thick, foreign accent. You shook your head, immediately regretting it. You held your hand to your head, willing your brain to stop moving around. “That was Tony Stark.” You scoffed.

“Then I’m glad I turned him down,” you said. The blonde man smirked, you thought. He was slowly coming into focus, and he was actually kind of cute. Kind of. Poor lighting and tequila made everyone look good.

“You’re funny. And cute. What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked. You shrugged.

“Men suck. Left me for his stupid manager. She’s not even pretty,” you said, face heating up with anger and alcohol. The man winced.

“Yeah, men do suck. I’m Pietro by the way.”

"Y/N."

“Y/N,” he repeated. The way your name sounded with his accent almost had you swooning… almost. “You should head home. You’re wasted, and I’d hate for someone to take advantage of you.”

“And you’ve been doing what, exactly?” you challenged. He grinned, looking down at his hands which had somehow gotten ahold of your phone.

“Distracting you so you can sober up a bit before the cab I called arrives.” He handed your phone back to you. “I’ll have one of the bartenders escort you. When you’re sober, give me a call.”

Spiderman/Peter Parker-

Switching schools was never something you liked. Always being the new kid and having to recreate a social life was always hard and frustrating. Trying to be the lone wolf never worked in your favor either. Your bubbly and friendly personality didn’t let you fade into the shadows. Then when you inevitably moved, it was always full of tears.

Your latest move wasn’t any different. Your family had relocated to New York City for your father’s business. Once again you were in a new school, surrounded by people you didn’t know. While their faces blurred together, yours stuck out. Tingles ran up your spine as you avoided everyone’s curious gazes. You glanced down at the paper containing your schedule and locker number and combination.

You found it easy enough, but when you entered the combination it refused to budge. You double checked the combination before carefully putting it in.

“Son of a bitch,” you mumbled, shaking the lock. You dropped the lock, resting your head against the cold metal door.

“Need some help with that?” A tall girl with glasses and frizzy hair pulled into a lazy ponytail stood a little ways down. She was standing in front of, presumably, her own locker, a tower of books balanced in her arm.

“That’d be great, thanks,” you said. You stood up straight, pulling your mouth into a thin line.

“These things suck,” she told you. She slammed her own locker shut. She jiggled your lock before hitting the door with her elbow. It swung open with complete ease.

“Thank you.” You bowed your head slightly.

“No problem. I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Uh, no. I’m new. My name’s Y/N. Y/N L/N.” You stuck your hand out, a smile on your face.

“Hey, I’m--”

“MJ!”

You turned around to find two boys coming down the hallway, waving their hands excitedly. One boy had tan skin and dark hair that was neatly combed, while the other was pale with light brown hair and wore a dorky sweater.

“MJ! We’ve been looking for you,” the first guy said, almost ignoring you.

“I was just helping out Y/N here,” she said. “Y/N this is Ned and Peter-- a couple of losers.”

“Um, hi.” You gave the boys an awkward wave as the bell rang loudly. “I’ll see you guys around. Thanks for opening my locker.” You gave the three of them a tight-lipped smile before hurrying down the hall.

Falcon/Captain America/Sam Wilson-

When you had returned from Iraq, you were so happy to be home. Your family had thrown a small get-together to celebrate your safe return. Everyone was so proud of you for serving your country. Your parents had offered to let you stay with them until you found yourself a job and an apartment. With a good record, and an honorable discharge, it shouldn’t have been hard.

It was two months before you landed a job as a receptionist at the V. A. Center in D.C. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but you made decent money. However, living in D.C. was expensive. Finding a place seemed almost impossible, even with a job. Luckily your parents were extremely understanding.

After about three months at the V. A., you had your job down pretty well. Most of the time you were answering calls from local and nationwide veterans. Most were nice, inquiring about certain medical options and wanting help through the transition back into normal society. Some veterans weren’t as friendly and called to complain about how the government treated them or simply to yell.

You had finished another call and were logging it when someone cleared their throat. You tapped on the board that was in front of you. You listened as the pen scratched across the paper for the visitor. Once you finished your log you glanced up.

A tall, dark, and handsome stranger stood in front of your desk, a half-smile on his face. You smiled back, bringing your full attention to him.

“Welcome to the V. A. Center, how can I help you?” you asked, raising your brow a bit.

“I’m Sam Wilson. I have an interview in about twenty-minutes,” he told you. You nodded, sliding down a bit to the other phone. You picked it up, dialing the three numbers to your boss’ office.

“One moment.” You slid down to your other phone, dialing the three numbers for your boss’ office. “Sir, you have a Sam Wilson here to see you,” you informed him. “Yes sir.” You slid back down to Sam Wilson, a smile on your face. “He’ll be with you shortly. He’s finishing up a meeting.

He nodded, sitting down in one of the chairs. He leant back, arm thrown over the back of the chair as he stared down the hall, resting his ankle on his knee. You tried your best not to stare, but not staring was never a strong suit of yours, and boy did Sam Wilson give you plenty to stare at.

“Which branch did you serve for, Mr. Wilson?” you inquired, pretending to type on the computer as if you hadn’t spent the last five minutes staring at him.

“Just Sam is fine,” he said with a chuckle. “And I served in the army.”

“Army,” he replied. You nodded, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Interesting. So when they did the Men of the Army calendar, was it just twelve months of you?” You watched as your words went through his head before he let out a chuckle. “What? Didn’t like it?” You shot him a wink, a smirk on your face.

“I like it quite a lot, actually… what’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes-

It took years and years of studying and hard work, but becoming the leading psychiatrist in dealing and helping soldiers with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSS), formerly PTSD. You never experienced it personally, but you had neighbors and friends who suffered from it growing up. You wanted to do something helpful in the world, something good, so you dedicated your life to finding ways to work through what others had experienced. Your reputation began to precede you, and that was how you were flown across the world to help one of the worst cases you’d ever seen.

The patient was a Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. He served in World War II where he was presumed KIA, Killed In Action. That was until about four years ago when he resurfaced as an assassin for an organization that was almost gone. The more you read, the wilder his story seemed to get. Reading his file, which was quite extensive, covered almost the entire flight to Wakanda.

King T’Challa stood ready to greet you when your plane landed. You bowed your head respectively, taking in the empty fields that surrounded you. He shook your hand firmly, offering you a warm smile.

“Welcome to Wakanda Dr. L/N,” he greeted.

“Thank you for having me, Your Majesty,” you said. “You have beautiful, open lands.”

“You’re much too kind. If you would follow me this way.” He held his hand out and began guiding you across one of the fields. Birds chirped above you as you made your trek over the verdant hills.

Just over the last hill was a single hut. Goats roamed around freely, munching on grass and bleating. King T’Challa gestured to the hut, staring at it solemnly.

“White Wolf lives there. He lives happily in solitude, but human interaction is important. The world says you are the best in your field. Please, help him,” the King said. You nodded your head.

“Nothing is guaranteed,” you reminded him. “My methods aren’t a one-hundred percent success, but I will do my best.”

“That is all we ask.”

You nodded one more time before resuming your walk to the small hut, this time alone. The goats were curious about you, pausing their lunch to stare at you. One particularly small one ran to you, nudging its head against your leg.

“Steve, be nice.”

A new voice caught your attention. His hair was longer and his beard was fuller, but you recognized the man as Sergeant Barnes. He stood in the doorway of the hut, staring down at the tiny goat that was now nibbling at the bottom of your pants. He wore white, traditional, Wakanda clothing. A white bandage covered the stub where his arm once was. He would have seemed peaceful were it not for the dark, solemn gaze in his eyes.

“Sergeant Barnes?” you called, bending down to pick up the goat. He looked up at you. “Sergeant Barnes my name is Dr. Y/N L/N. King T’Challa asked me to help you transition back into civilian society.” He nodded his head slowly. The goat, Steve, nestled into your chest, nibbling your shirt. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Of course,” he said, moving aside so you could enter his hut. Setting the goat down, you stepped inside the small hut. It was bare for the most part, only the necessities were present. You took a seat on a nearby chair, watching him carefully. He took a seat across from you, awkwardly shifting in his seat.

“Sergeant Barnes, I would like to preface this by saying I am here to help you, and if what we do isn’t helping, it’s okay to say that,” you said.

“Bucky.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My name… it’s Bucky.” You smiled.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky. I’m Y/N.”

Loki Odinson-

Rehabilitation, patience, and forgiveness were some of your core beliefs. You also believed that good was in everyone, no matter what bad deeds they did, no matter how lost they seemed, with the right guidance and a voice of encouragement, you truly believed that anyone could redeem themselves. Because of this firm belief, you started a rehabilitation center in your kingdom which grew into the biggest and most successful rehabilitation center in the world.

Being the princess of a small country was hard, but this success gave your country exactly what it needed--money. Which sounded worse than it actually was. The world runs on money and your people weren’t exactly millionaires, but being paid to rehabilitate both petty and hardened criminals was surprisingly a great way to make money.

So much so that King T’Challa of Wakanda, an old childhood friend of yours, asked a favor from an American acquaintance of his. Tony Stark, owner of Stark Industries and Avenger, had been asked by his fellow Avenger, Thor, to seek a place for his trickster brother. You had heard all about New York in the news, but you never expected that to have an effect on your country. You weren’t so sure until Thor offered to pay in pure gold. That, you simply couldn’t refuse.

You stood on the runway, watching as the plane carrying your latest case began to touch down. The wind whipped your hair around your face, but your sunglasses protected your eyes. The wind settled once the plane came to a stop. The door opened and the first to exit was King T’Challa.

“Your Majesty,” you called. He smiled at you as he descended the stairs.

“Your Highness,” he greeted. He jogged over to you, skipping all formalities to give you a heartfelt hug. “It has been too long, old friend.”

“Much too long,” you agreed. A posse of people had followed him. Guards from Wakanda, Tony Stark, Thor, and his brother, Loki.

“Princess Y/N, this is my American acquaintance, Tony Stark.”

“Yes, Stark Industries precedes you.” He bowed to you respectfully.

“Your Highness, this is Thor and his troublesome brother Loki,” Stark said, gesturing to the two giant men beside him. Loki was bound in unique chains and had his face covered so you could only see his eyes.

“Welcome, gentlemen. We are happy to welcome you to our small corner of the world. If you all would follow me,” you said. You looped your arm through T’Challa’s, leading them to the facilities where Loki would be kept. “While your brother is a rather unique guest, we will be treating him like we treat everyone else here. Because of his abilities, he will be placed in a special room designed specifically for him.”

“How do you know it will hold Reindeer Games over here?” Stark asked, sending a pointed look to Loki. You smiled.

“I had a top engineer design it using advanced technologies that could put your entire company to shame,” you said. A smirk pulled at T’Challa’s mouth at the mention of his sister.

“You are very kind for doing this Princess Y/N,” Thor said. “I know with the right guidance, my brother will come back to who he used to be. Loki rolled his eyes at that, opting to look out the window. From the corner of your eye, you could see him staring at your reflection through the glass.

“It’s my pleasure.”

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winterhawksamplers · 2 years

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Pet Fic: Lucky, Alpine, and More

It's dogs. And cats. And the occasional ferret. Come on, of course we love them! This sampler offers a variety of animal-centric fics: in some, pets and animals are what bring Clint and Bucky together; in others, they serve as key components to helping Clint and Bucky figure things out; in one, we get some of Lucky's actual POV. Animals act as therapists, as cockblocks, as the absolute best pillows. This is a (literal) fluff, humor, and pizza dog filled theme, but don't be too surprised when some of these furry facades are actually vehicles for processing complex winterhawk themes like trauma, PTSD, and figuring out how to be human.

Space to Run, Space to Hide by: @ialwayscomewhenyoucall length: 1.1k | rating: T | tags: free verse poetry, barton farm, fluff, avoidance, podfic available, shifting POVs summary excerpt: Clint is spending some time at his farm. Not because he's running away. Nope. Not at all. He just missed the farm. Why this one? In this incredibly beautiful, sweet, and lyrical fic, the author utilizes Lucky's POV to help capture a classic example of Clint's emotional avoidance. bonus: podfic by @flowerparrish

Rescue Me by: NotEvenCloseToStraight length: 25k | rating: M | tags: PTSD, depression, service animals, misunderstandings, amputee!Bucky, Deaf!Clint, h/c, no powers au summary excerpt: Still struggling with PTSD and nightmares a year after leaving the Army, Bucky goes to a shelter to find a therapy dog. He finds companionship in Beef the Pitbull, a purpose in volunteering on weekends, and when the dog trainer starts smiling his way, Bucky finds something else that feels a little like love. Why this one? This heart-wrenching fic situates a post-military service Bucky struggling to find a new normal alongside a disaster human/pet-trainer Clint. C&B's journey to recovery in this fic is realistic, rife with struggles and mistakes, and filled with enough feels to make you want to rush to hug the nearest animal you can find.

Through the Streets of Long Gone Dreams by: Rivulet027 length: 11k | rating: T | tags: canon-adjacent, Bucky Barnes recovering, mutual pining, bed sharing, Lucky as the best bed buddy summary: Bucky’s having trouble sleeping until Lucky decides to adopt him. Now Bucky isn’t sure if he’s sleeping better because of a dog or the archer that comes with the dog. Why this one? This one feels like a more classic Bucky recovery story, in that the setting is the tower, and there are PTSD and nightmare themes throughout. Lucky here helps push Clint and Bucky together and helps Bucky ground and find himself. bonus: art by prompt_fills

A Christmas Miracle: Getting Lucky by: Lissadiane length: 11k | rating: T | tags: veterinarian!Bucky, performer!Clint, temporary animal injury, fluff, holidays, no powers au summary excerpt: Clint Barton’s absolute worst nightmare comes true on a snowy highway in the middle of Colorado on a cross country drive — he hits a dog. It’s just his luck that the only vet he can find hates people — especially those who hurt dogs — and happens to look amazing in a pair of kitten scrubs. Why this one? A sheepishly adorable Clint, an adorably grouchy Bucky, and the cutest Lucky in a pair of reindeer antlers to ever attend a holiday festival make for the most fluff-and-feels-filled fic, possibly ever. A dash of misunderstanding, a sprinkle of enemies-to-lovers, and you're in for a fic streaming from the hallmark channel straight to your ao3 account.

Lucky in Love by: @drgrlfriend length: 59k | rating: E | tags: no powers au, mutual recovery, PTSD, depression, veteran!Bucky, h/c, roommates, pining, touch-starved, canon disabilities summary excerpt: Clint is only a couple of sips into his cardboard cup of coffee, his brain barely out of neutral, which is probably why it takes him so long to realize that some damn psycho is trying to kidnap his dog. Why this one? This classic au blends a variety of canon and fandom favorite tropes in a beautiful story of mutual recovery. Lucky brings Clint and Bucky together in a disaster of a meet-cute, and is there to support them through every nightmare, every flashback, and every shaky and sweet step towards trust and healing. bonus: art by @drizzledrawings

The next nine fluff-filled fics are sorted in descending order by length.

Look What The Cat Dragged In by: @flawedamythyst length: 22k | rating: G | tags: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Lucky, Alpine, co-raising a cat with the Winter Soldier

Making Me a Habit by: @kangofu-cb length: 20k | rating: T | tags: war vet! Bucky, Clint owns an animal shelter, no powers au, PTSD, kittens, + 1 ferret, bonus: art by @soapyquartz and art by CountessofLovelace and art by noxnthea

Barking Mad by: @xria-rose length: 4k | rating: T | tags: magic, pre-relationship, established stony, Steve and Tony are turned into a dog and cat

Ready to Hear it by: @noxnthea length: 3.7k | rating: T | tags: feelings realization, love confessions, Clint treating Lucky like his therapist

How to Prevent Sugar Bloom by: @tawryn length: 3.7k | rating: E | tags: flipped A/B/O, humor, dog park meet cute/disaster, STEVE IS A LITERAL DOG

Winter Puppy by: @pherryt length: 3.5k | rating: G | tags: werewolves, towerfic, Clint wants a dog so bad he's willing to believe the random wolf in the tower is one

Modern Drift by: @claraxbarton length: 2k | rating: T | tags: alpine, no powers au, Nurse!Bucky, pre-relationship, covid, best cat dad Bucky

Five Facts You Need to Know About Clint and Bucky by: @skylarkevanson length: 1.8k | rating: G | tags: domestic fluff, one fact is=Clint is the type of man who stops in the street to pet every dog

it's got to be you(r cat) by: atheoryon length: 1k | rating: G | tags: no powers au, firefighter! Bucky, meet-cute, alpine is not stuck on a fire escape

What other animal or pet related fics would you include? reblog or add in the comments for your fellow readers!

Find other themed winterhawk samplers here. Suggest fics for us to include on future lists here!

#winterhawk samplers #winterhawk #clint/bucky #clint x bucky #clintucky #winterhawk fanfiction #fic list #pet fic #lucky the pizza dog #alpine barnes #bucky barnes #clint barton #fluff fic #avengers fanfiction #no powers au #it wasn't until we had this list ready that we realized all the featured fics featured lucky #unintentional dog over cat preferences oops

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mindful-of-ideas · 1 year

Text

Preference: MCU

- Reacting to you getting hurt while training

Characters: Clint, Strange, Tony and Yelena

A/N: Not all characters, so of course I’m willing to do multiple parts of this!

Clint:

You got too confident and tried something he explicitly told you not to try. Nonetheless, he blames himself. He should’ve known you weren’t going to listen to him and should’ve prevented this. So when he sees you fall to the ground, your knees buckling, he rushes to your side.

“Y/N! Fuck!”

“It’s okay,” you said trying to get back up.

You failed miserably, your arm giving in under your weight.

“Fuck!” you said.

“It’s ok, it’s ok, just stay down.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. You told me I wasn’t ready.”

“It’s alright, it’s just a few bruises and cuts. You probably hit your head when you fell, that’s why you’re dizzy.”

“How bad is it?”

“You’ll survive,” he said smiling, “Now come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Did I at least look badass?”

“Right now, not really. While doing the thing I explicitly said you should not try? A bit, yeah,” he said smiling.

“Cool!”

“No, not cool! But we’ll work on it. Now, come on.”

You tried to take a few steps but stumbled as you were still dizzy. He wrapped an arm around your waist, helping you reach the infirmary.

He’s very careful when cleaning your cuts and bandaging your wounds.

“It will sting a bit, just a heads up,” he said before using an alcohol wipe on your forehead.

“A bit!” you say wincing, “when do you think we can go back to training?”

“Now, slow down. We still need to put band-aids on those cuts and ice on your bruises. They could use a little help to heal quicker.”

He makes it a point to explain everything he does just so you know what to do if you ever get hurt on a solo mission.

Even if you want to go back to training as soon as possible, he always finds a way to keep you distracted long enough for you to heal properly.

Strange:

He takes every precaution to ensure you won’t hurt anyone or yourself while training. You mostly train in the mirror dimension to make sure you don’t destroy anything as well or end up getting hurt by your own collateral damage. But he forgot that you could hurt yourself by pushing your limits too far.

“Strange…?” you asked, worry in your voice.

“What’s going on?” he said touching down from where he’s been levitating.

“Is… is it supposed to burn?” you said, looking down at your hands.

“Is what supposed to burn? Y/N?” he asked, now coming towards you, “Y/N, talk to me.”

Your hands were burning so badly. Your vision got blurry and you started falling. Strange caught you before you could hit the ground, sitting down with you, your head on his chest.

“My hands,” you finally said, your voice shaking, “they’re burning…”

“That last blast was a lot, it’s just residual energy, you’re okay,” said Strange trying to keep you and himself calm.

This was one of his biggest fears, you getting hurt, but more specifically your hands getting hurt when he could prevent it.

“It’s not!” you screamed, “it won’t go away like it usually does! Strange do something… please,” you said now pleading, tears in your eyes.

He placed both hands on yours and mumbled something. The burning slowly went away, only leaving a tickling sensation in your fingertips. You sighed, resting back your head on Strange.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Next time, you take things slower? This happened because you tried too quickly to do something you couldn’t completely control. Energy got stuck in your hands and couldn’t get out. I’ll teach you how to disperse it in your body like I just did, but promise you’ll warn me next time you try something like that?”

“Sure.”

All that left you exhausted and Strange knew it. He carried you into your room and let you rest for a while. He will use teaching you the new spell as an excuse to keep you from training for a while. He’ll pretend that it’s to give you time to get back on your feet but truthfully, it’s because he got really scared of something bad happening and could use the break himself.

Tony:

It took everything for him to train with you. You had to beg for weeks. He always found an excuse. He had meetings, conferences, missions, villains to defeat. One time he even completely disappeared for a few days before coming back with a nice tan. You even began to doubt his excuses were true.

“I have to learn physico-chemistry of cold plasma by tomorrow,” he said.

“That’s not even a real thing,” you grumbled.

But he eventually agreed. While he was more experienced than you, he treated you as an equal and didn’t hold back. He was not aiming to hurt you, on the contrary, but he wanted this to be as realistic as possible. You got a few good hits in but had to fall back. As you turned around, ready to dodge the next wave of attacks, your foot caught on something and the blast hit you square in the chest. You fell hard on your back, your breath cut by the impact. You laid there for a second trying to breathe again.

“Y/N?” he asked.

You didn’t answer. You could barely breathe, how could he expect you to answer. But this was Tony Stark. You had to get back up, you couldn’t look weak in front of him.

“You okay?” he called again, this time closer.

You shut your eyes and bit your lower lip trying to get the pain to leave your body. As if it was that easy. You tried to get up but quickly gave up.

“Y/N, are you… shit, this is exactly why I didn’t want to train…”

“I’m fine,” you said, opening your eyes, “Just taking a little break.”

You tried to smile, but the pain was too much.

“A break, uh? Maybe I’ll take one with you then,” he said lying next to you.

It took a minute but you finally got your breathing under control.

“You okay, kid,” he asked.

“Think so,” you said.

“Now, come on,” he said getting up and offering you a hand, “We’re getting you checked out.”

“I feel fine,” you said, yet still winced as you got up.

“Y/N, don’t… see this is why I train alone! So stuff like this doesn’t happen!”

He looked away from you. You could see tears in his eyes.

“But… I’m okay…” you said before painfully taking a few steps toward him.

You hugged him, carefully resting your head on his shoulder.

“I’ll be okay, this wasn’t your fault,” you added, whispering.

“I-…” he started pushing you away from him, “let’s get you checked out and then will grab something to eat. Burgers?”

Yelena:

You couldn’t really tell if she was happy or not to train with you. Not that you had to convince her. You had grown really close to one another since you met and had hoped she would say yes, as you were eager to learn from her. And she did, she agreed right away, but still, you couldn’t tell how she felt about it.

The training was going well. She showed you a few new moves and you had no problems learning them. You even managed to use them against her. This probably hurt her ego, as she doubled down on the attacks. Nothing too dangerous, but you could feel the pressure rising. Both of you wanted to show off to the other by trying more and more complicated hits.

Then it happened. She hit you right in the face, making you lose balance and stumbled. As you tried to shake the dizziness away, she landed another blow right in your ribs. You rolled away, trying to avoid any more hits.

“What,” she said, “Tired?”

You closed your eyes moaning, you could feel your side throbbing.

“Come on, Y/N! I know you got more in you. You did good when you did the jab and then the kick and the other kick. You can still do good. Get up!”

You actually liked that she was still pushing you to continue. If this had been a real fight, you would at least need to get up and get to safety. You could help but smile at the thought of you two, out there, fighting side by side.

You sat up, feeling around your ribs. Not broken, thankfully.

“Y/N? Please get up…” Yelena said, now closer to you.

“I… I’m alright,” you said, looking up at her.

“Y/N, I am so so sorry…” she said but then stopped.

You couldn’t tell if it was only worry or if she was actually about to cry.

“I swear, Yelena,” you said, “I’m okay, but are you?

“We need to get you fixed,” she said holding out a hand, not answering your question.

“If we get me fixed, will you be okay?” you asked taking her hand and getting up.

“Maybe… but they need to fix you really good.”

“I’m sure they will,” you said offering a smile.

She smiled back.

#mindful-of-ideas #marvel preference #mcu preference #marvel #mcu #clint barton preference #clint barton #tony stark preference #tony stark #iron man preference #iron man #doctor strange preference #doctor strange #yelena preference #yelena x you #yelena belova preference #yelena belova

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aagiijxbls · 7 months

Text

Y'all ever just get a scene stuck in your head? Like it replays and replays so you write it down. But you know you'll never flesh it out or add to it.

Yah. Well here's my latest pain filled drabble with Steve, Clint and Bucky.

Trigger warning: Blood, Language, and Pain.

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As debris settled around them, Steve was leaning over Clint, his knees and hands on either side of the Archer's hips and head. Steve blinked the dust from his eyes before a cough caught in his throat, the convulsion sent a blinding pain radiating out from under his ribs.

He stifled the cough to lessen his body movement but the pain burst outward with every minute tense of his muscles.

He looked down and saw rebar jutting through his right side, his eyes unfocused a couple times before he could follow the end of it.

Underneath him Clint lay unconscious, blood poured from a deep cut on his eyebrow and the end of rebar that impaled Steve was stuck deeply into The Archer's side.

"Shit…"

The word escaped Steve's lips before he could think better of it, the tense of his muscles created another wave of agony to pass over him.

Steve's arms were shaking, they were bent at the elbows as if he was mid pushup. He could handle the weight but the pain had his vision tunneling and he let out a ragged breath. His muscles tensed around the rebar and he groaned through his teeth.

"God, please don't wake up"

He whispered at the floor trying to get his eyes to focus when he heard ruble shifting behind him. His eyes snapped open wide and he pushed up against the floor. The rebar dragged against bone and he bit back against the cry that wanted to tear out of his chest.

They were already sitting ducks here but it didn't mean he needed to give away their exact location.

Steve's mind was racing, he couldn't move, which means he couldn't fight. His eyes flicked around the space as if the answer were written in the dust.

Steve heard a large piece of concrete hit the ground, he couldn't turn to see how close they were so he looked at Clint instead

"I'm sorry"

He took a steadying breath in and held it.

Closing his eyes, he waited for the bullets.

"Oh god, Steve…"

Steve released the breath he was holding and relief washed over him.

Bucky knelt beside him, his hand hovering over Steve's shoulder before it fell to his side and he muttered.

"Jesus"

Steve tilted his head a little to look at Bucky

"Strucker?"

"They blew the base and hauled ass. Fuck Steve, what do I do?"

Steve grit his teeth, his breathing added pressure to the metal, he was close to passing out.

"Where's Tony?"

Bucky knew Iron Man could cut through the rebar, he swallowed thickly and his frown deepened

"He's tailing Strucker…"

Steve let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes

"Okay." He nodded to himself and steadied his resolve.

"Okay. I need to you to hold the bar still"

Bucky let his head fall back, he exhaled a deep sigh, concern plastered on his face

"No, we can… I can get Tony back here"

Steve closed his eyes tight and then turned his head to look at Bucky through hazy eyes

"We don't have time."

It was an order and a plea.

Bucky gripped the exposed piece of rebar with his left hand holding it firm

"Steve, I don't think-"

"Just hold it still!"

Steve spat back between clenched teeth, he pushed up and the sound of metal scraping against bone made Bucky flinch. Steve groaned painfully as blood pooled inside his mouth, some of it seeped through his teeth and dripped off his lips falling in blobs next to Clint's head.

Bucky was so focused on Steve that he hadn't noticed Clint beginning to stir next to him, his eyes fluttering briefly before they clenched shut tightly and he jerked forward, his hands clawing at Bucky's arm.

Bucky placed his right arm harshly along Clint's chest, pressing him firmly into the concrete beneath him.

"Clint, don't move, stop!"

Steve let out a shout as Clint kicked out his legs sending shockwaves of pain through both of them. The pain made Steve's whole body shake and he faltered, his hands slipped and caused him to fall an inch back down onto the metal. A scream ripped through both of them and Bucky couldn't distinguish who was who's.

Bucky let go and was behind Steve, he wrapped his arms around Steve's mid section, both forearms close to the metal.

"Steve, grab the pole, push up okay."

Steve's breathing was labored, but he clenched his teeth and gripped the pole as best he could against the tacky blood.

----------

If y'all wanna write this or draw something, it would make my eyeballs very happy. 🩶

#clint barton #bucky barnes #steve rogers #ao3 writer #Whatever pairing you prefer #winterhawk #wintershield #Blood and pain #ficlet

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marvelgirl772 · 2 years

Text

RED FLAGS - PART ONE - CLINT BARTON

You weren't sure what happened. It was all too fast. And most of it didn't seem real to you just yet. Some time has passed now and you weren't sure if you were ready to accept the reality of it all. But you knew you would have to eventually.

A month ago your world came crashing down. Everything that you thought was true, turned out to be lies. And now you were left with your own broken pieces trying to patch them all back together.

Clint and you had been together for a while at that point, at least you thought. You had a crush on him since you had met him and that eventually turned into the two of you flirting until Clint asked you out. Everything seemed to be perfect...until it wasn't.

"Hey, Y/N," Clint grinned upon entering the Avengers compound.

You were in the laboratory with Bruce working on something. Bruce had asked for your input or else the laboratory would be the last place you would be. Everyone was called to the compound regarding a mission related to Hydra, it was simply a matter of when the others arrived. Once everyone was there, you'd take off.

"You're late," you smiled over at him jokingly.

"Not everyone has super abilities to fly or run here unnaturally fast," Clint argued, a smile still on his face as he approached you.

"Obviously not since I don't have either of them," you retorted just as Clint wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Mhmm well you live a lot closer than I do," Clint defended.

"Excuses, excuses," you shook your head before Clint leaned down to kiss you quickly.

"Get a room," Bruce chuckled earning your attention once more.

"Sorry, Banner," you stepped away from Clint.

"I'll meet you on the jet," Clint promised before exiting the laboratory.

"How long has that been going on?" Bruce inquired once you joined his side again.

You turned around to watch Clint walk away before shrugging, "Maybe two months now."

"Are you two official or?" Bruce asked next.

That question always confused you and made your stomach drop. Despite the two of you acting like a couple, you said, "Not necessarily."

"Oh," Bruce looked over you concerned, but you brushed it off.

That's how things were for the two of you. Clint would openly show affection towards you around the others and often greeted you with some sort of affection whether it be a hug, kiss on the cheek, or simply a kiss. You were content. Clint would take you out multiple times a week or you would be spending time together at one of your homes. If no one asked, then it did appear that you two were a couple. You would bring up labels every now and then, but Clint avoided that conversation at all costs. That should've been your red flag. That should've been the moment you walked away.

Clint walked over to you holding two drinks in his hands. He smiled before offering to you, "Who let you out of the house looking like that?"

You couldn't help but smile as you took the drink out of his hand, "What? Do you not like it?"

"I love it," Clint stated before leaning down to whisper in your ear, "But I'll love taking it off later more."

You pushed him away, keeping your hand on his chest, "Watch it."

Clint chuckled, "What? Am I wrong?"

You rolled your eyes, "We'll see if you're on your best behavior."

"Ooh, I like this side of you, Y/N," Clint wrapped an arm around your waist. "I guess I better stick by your side so I'm on my best behavior."

"You're never on your best behavior," you laughed.

Clint shrugged before leaning down to give you a chaste kiss, "I have something motivating me to be tonight."

You've avoided the compound since it happened. You've been ignoring phone calls and text messages from the team. Natasha did break into your apartment at one time to check in on you and Bruce had banged on your apartment door for well over an hour but you refused to answer because you just wanted to be left alone in your misery.

You laid out on your bed unsure of what else you could have done to keep him. You knew it was wrong to still long for him, but you couldn't get him out of your head. As much as you tried to hate him, all of the good times kept showing up in your memories. But there was one horrid memory that you remembered the most. It continued to replay in your head torturing you. You knew you shouldn't think about it, you knew you should get over it. But what was between you and Clint was real to you, and that's all that matters.

You entered the compound ready to complete some training and look over a case Fury had suggested you look into. But you had stopped in your tracks when you noticed Clint there with the others, but he had an arm wrapped around a women's waist. A woman you didn't recognize. Bruce caught your eyes as you stood there wearily subtle shaking his head at you. But before you could try to sneak back out, Thor obliviously called you over.

"Lady Y/N! You must meet Clint's girlfriend," Thor waved you over.

Your heart sank at those words and you wanted to vomit. Your eyes were pricked with tears briefly before you forced a smile on your face as you walked over to the group.

Clint cleared his throat, "Y/N, this is Laura. Laura, this is one of my teammates, Y/N."

Teammate? you thought. Was that all you ever were? That was bullshit.

"It's nice to meet you. Sorry, I have to cut our meeting short but I have some work I need to get done," you politely said before starting to walk away from the group.

"Work? Can't it wait?" Thor asked, completely oblivious.

"It can't," you lied before exiting the room they were in and finding yourself a secluded meeting room that you could lock yourself in there. You rested your back against the now locked door as you closed your eyes and took several deep breaths but it wasn't calming you down. How could you be so foolish? And how did that even happen? Clint was just over at your apartment two days ago. Nothing seemed different. He was kissing you, he was touching you, he ordered your favorite takeout, and he stayed the night. So how did this even happen?

There was a knock on the door and you groaned quietly to yourself. "Classified!" you called out, hoping they would walk away. But of course, your day couldn't get any worse.

"Y/N, it's me," you heard Clint say.

"I'm busy," you lied, trying your hardest not to cry.

"Come on, you're never too busy for me," he said so confidently.

"I need to get this report done by noon today," you continued to lie.

"It'll only take a few minutes," he promised.

You rolled your eyes and against your better judgment, you yanked the door open to look at him with a cold look. You knew you'd have to face this eventually, but you weren't sure if now would be the best time. You were still coming to terms with your emotions and those were all over the place.

Clint had the audacity to step with a smile before shutting the door behind him. "What did you think of her?"

"I don't want to talk about her," you crossed your arms as you stared at him. "You can leave if that's all you want to talk about."

"Woah, Y/N, I thought we were cool," Clint looked at you confused.

"We're not cool. You know what, Clint. We're are far from fucking cool," you stated as you moved to walk to the other side of the room to avoid hitting him.

"Wait, what?" Clint asked, his voice rising a bit. "We're friends. You should be happy for me."

"Is that all we were? Just friends?" you shouted at him, slamming your hands against the table, "Because I'd never do the things we did with anyone else out there."

"Y/N," Clint sighed.

"What the fuck were we? Here I thought we were together and then you just show up with another woman?" you asked him, fighting back tears.

"We weren't together," Clint defended. "We weren't anything official."

"This was still a shitty thing to do to a supposed friend of yours," you called out. "How could you do this?"

"We weren't together!" Clint argued.

"Then what do you call what we were?" you whispered angrily.

"Friends with benefits?" Clint said hesitantly.

"Then you should've clarified that," you hissed, "You knew I had feelings for you."

"I thought with me avoiding labels you would get the hint," Clint argued.

"You're a dick," you moved to exit the meeting room, "And I hate you"

"Come on, Y/N. You don't mean that," Clint grabbed your wrist to stop you from leaving.

"I mean it. I never want to speak to you again," you tried to rip your hand from his grip, but he only tightened his hold on you. "Clint, let go."

"I want to talk about this like adults," Clint stated.

"How did you think I was going to react to you bringing a woman here when just two days you were in my bed?" you demanded.

Clint didn't respond to that. You tried to exit again, but Clint wasn't budging. So you opted to grab his arm and flip him over, slamming him to the ground causing him to release his grip on you.

"What did I do wrong? Did I ask for too much? Did I misunderstand it all? All I wanted was for you to want me," you choked out before strutting out of the meeting room leaving Clint on the ground. You sneaked out of the compound to return to your apartment where you haven't left since.

You hated thinking about that day. How could you be so wrong about Clint's feelings for you? How could the two of you not be together? How could all of it mean absolutely nothing to him? He told you he loved you, but that was a lie. He talked about a future with you, but now you knew he had zero intentions of it. He promised you the world, but he was just pulling words out of his ass. But you remembered everything, every last word. You remembered it all too well.

You barely even glanced over at your ringing phone seeing Clint's name light up on the screen. He had been trying to call you since that day. And that only made it all that much harder for you. Your temptation overtook you and you answered, regretting it almost immediately.

"Y/N?" Clint called out.

"What do you want?" you asked, pretending to be normal.

"Are you okay? You've been ignoring everyone," Clint said.

"I'm fine. I've been busy," you lied.

"You're a terrible liar."

"Why are you pretending to care?" you sighed.

"Because I do care about you, Y/N," Clint explained.

"You made it clear that you don't," you countered.

"Are you still upset about Laura?" Clint asked irritated.

"It doesn't matter," you said. "Did you need something?"

"Can I come over?"

"You can fuck off," you hung up on him before throwing your head back into the couch, regretting answering the call at all. But within the hour, he was calling you again. This time you ignored him. And you continued to ignore him. You despised Clint Barton and wanted nothing to do with him again. Which you knew was unrealistic. But you would avoid him until there was another threat to Earth, and even then you would avoid speaking to him at all costs. Everything to you was real and you couldn't understand how you got so lost in translation that you were left broken-hearted while he had her.

#marvel #preferences #imagines #marvel preferences #marvel imagine #clint barton #hawkeye #clint barton x you #clint barton x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes

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ugh-cam · 1 year

Text

Maybe go give this some love?

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel headcanons #marvel preferences #tony stark #doctor strange #clint barton #yelena belova #mcu

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missmonsters2 · 1 year

Note

🥶

WandaNat

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem!Reader

Warnings: awkward!reader. clint slander. WandaNat no mercy.

Note: i miss them

Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: 999 (🧍‍♀️)

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

This was your worst nightmare—trapped between the bodies of two incredibly hot, kind, and funny women.

And no, it wasn't in the sexy way—your brain refused to even let you go down that route. You'd implode at even the slightest thought of it.

This was Clint's fault, you quietly seethed, plotting his gruesome murder that could later be turned into a true crime podcast. Laura will have to be a widowed single mother, and the children will have to grow up fatherless, but surely it was for the best.

"Come down to visit us!" Clint said to you, your mind mimicking his voice unflatteringly. "It's been way too long since you guys came to stay with us."

It was a normal occurrence; you thought nothing of it. You, Wanda, and Natasha often went to stay with Clint and his family quarterly. Natasha visited more with her girlfriend, Wanda, and they invited you every time, but you settled that four times a year was enough.

It was usually fun, and the time spent was enjoyable, so you really had thought nothing about it.

Until Clint decided he was actually the incarnate of the devil and condemned you for some undisclosed sin.

"Oh, you three are cool sharing a room, right? The other spare bedroom is under renovation. I mean, one of you can take the couch but I highly don't recommend it with what the kids have spilled on it over the years."

No, it wasn't okay, you wanted to say at the time, but Wanda and Natasha nonchalantly waved Clint off and told him it was fine, and the conversation breezed on, never to be returned to again.

Why would he invite all three of you if there wasn't enough space!? You tried to tell Wanda and Natasha that you could drive to the nearest hotel at night, but they looked at you strangely and asked if you hated them. It was jokingly, but you could hear a tinge of hurt in their voice, which silenced you from offering to leave again.

But now you were suffering.

The bed was way too small for three people but left enough room for just a couple of inches to keep you from coming into skin-to-skin contact with either redhead.

You stared at the ceiling, despite being unable to make out any details of the room in the darkness.

Why the fuck were you in the middle?

You should've been on the edge. At least then, you could hang half your body off it to keep some distance.

You started at the edge of the bed—make no mistake. But then Natasha came to your side and asked you to scootch over. You assumed she preferred sleeping on the right side, so you started to make your way down to the other side. But then, to your horror, Wanda climbed in from the other end, effectively trapping you in the middle.

The words were caught in your throat as you tried to force them out and ask if you could have the edge, but Natasha and Wanda mumbled their goodnights before promptly falling asleep.

This was unacceptable; you mentally cried. This was—weird. You know that Wanda and Natasha have been together for ages, and they probably didn't care, but it was strange to be in the middle of them like this. You're way too awkward for this.

It brought up the unwanted feelings you've been trying to get rid of for months.

The worst part was that it was winter, and this room was so fucking cold. Was Clint going through financial hardship? Why isn't there any heat in this room?

You wished him ill, you wished him ill, you wished bad things upon Clint Barton.

You shifted, trying to pull the blanket up higher and shrink yourself to retain some of the heat. You turned on your side, facing Wanda's back, and frowned. You could practically feel the heat radiating off her and wanted to scoot away from her. But you couldn't. You'd scoot right into Natasha, who was also radiating heat as she faced your back.

At this moment, you hated them for being so unaware of their temptations.

You swallowed. Moving a little closer to Wanda wouldn't be too bad, right? Just to steal a bit more of her warmth, so you could fall asleep and wake up early to get out of bed.

You scooted a little closer, your nose just inches away from her back since there wasn't much wiggle room. Her heat emitted off her like a goddamn fireplace, and you sighed a little at the warmth on your nose and the parts of your cheeks.

It was still pretty cold, and you shivered a little.

Your movement seemed to wake Wanda as she lifted her head to look around at you. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Turning back, Wanda lay her head back down and shut her eyes with a yawn.

You started to scoot back to where you were, but Wanda grabbed your wrist from under the blanket and pulled it over her waist as she shuffled back into you.

The warmth pressed against your front jolted you, and you were stiff, despite how good it felt.

"любимая, she's cold," Wanda mumbled in the dark as she threaded her fingers through yours.

Wanda was clearly speaking to Natasha because the redhead behind you shifted and moved closer until she was pressed against your back snuggly. Her arms wrapped around your midsection as she tangled her legs through yours.

You wanted to die.

You wanted to kill Clint Barton and then run into oncoming traffic.

"Um," you croaked.

"Is this better?" Natasha mumbled sleepily, and she was so close you felt her lips move against your shoulder.

No.

Yes.

No.

"Uh," you dragged out before finally deciding with an awkward stiff, "Yes."

It was warm—almost too warm now. You closed your eyes with a silent groan.

You weren't getting any sleep tonight.

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff x you #wandanat x you #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #mm: my fics #mm.drabble.wandanat

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natasharomanoffismywife · 1 month

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I'm Not Like Everybody Else (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

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Tag List: @mxxnmocha @madamevirgo @fl0ating @natasha-danvers @lesbian-x-blackwidow @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @summergeezburr @natashasfirefly @sighsam @nowthisisliving27 @captain-josslett @hcartbyheart @stop-drop-and-drumroll @tribblemakingalicorn @aaron-despair @becka107 @peggycarter-steverogers @rooskaya-yelena @cpt-bolter @natashadeservedmore @indiavance555 @thewidowsghost @waltermis

Word Count:825

Natasha Romanoff POV

“I’m bored Tasha… spar with me?”

“No”

“Watch a movie with me?”

“No”

“But I’m boreddd Natasha… you need to entertain me!”

“Go annoy your girlfriend Yelena, I am not moving from this spot for the rest of today. It’s my only rest day I’ve had in the last 2 weeks so please just let me do nothing in peace.” I say to my frustrated sister, having just come back from back-to-back missions I am addiment on not moving for the duration of my day off today.

“ugh Kate Bishop is busy with old man Barton today and I really can’t be bothered to be nice to him at the moment, I have to much energy for that.” Yelena groans as she slumps down onto the sofa next to me, I can’t help smirking at the little nickname she has for Clint something that I will have to repeat back to him at some point.

I go to answer Yelena but the noise of the common room door opening and an unfamiliar female voice grabs my attention, both myself and Lena turn to face the newcomer who is walking beside a smiling Steve and once my eyes meet her e/c ones I instantly am blown away by her natural beauty.

“Hey Nat, Yelena, please meet our new team member Y/N L/N. She’s come highly recommended by Hill and Fury so please make her feel welcome” Steve informs us with a smile on his face, I hear Yelena introduce herself with a nice welcome but I am not paying attention to what she is saying instead I am taken back by the blinding smile that adorns our newcomers face.

“Hey L/N nice to meet you, looks like Thor has competition for being the best-looking Avenger” I finish my sentence with a cheeky wink, my smirk falls slightly when I notice that Y/n was not blushing like most women would and judging by the little chuckle coming from the annoying blonde next to me it seems Yelena has noticed that as well.

I watch as Y/n gives me a polite smile before being ushered out of the room by a talkative Steve, I follow the girl with my eyes and once she is out of my eye line, I turn to Yelena who seems to be dying of laughter.

“Oh my god! She didn’t even say anything! Wow Nat you seem to have lost your touch” I roll my eyes at the tease before punching my sister hard in the arm, grinning victoriously I turn and walk out of the room leaving my pouting sister all alone.

That first meeting was about 3 months ago and it’s safe to say my attempts at flirting with Y/n has not gone down well, I have been using my trademark Romanoff charm and all I get is a smile and a nod not someone who giggles and fawns over me like everyone else does and I have had enough!

I stomp to Y/n’s bedroom and after knocking on the door I am greeted with a warm smile, something that instantly makes me melt into a puddle. I gaze into her e/c eyes fully aware that I am sporting a dreamy smile but I couldn’t care less, I am happy to be in the presence of this goddess.

“Are you alright Natasha? You’ve not moved since I’ve opened the door?” A look of concern etched onto Y/n’s face as she softly speaks to me, I am snapped back into reality at her voice and not thinking I just go for it.

“Why don’t you respond to my flirting? I am trying my hardest to get you like me but you aren’t giving me anything! I am giving you the Black Widow treatment most people would kill for that!” I vomit out, I cringe to myself as I am speaking but I just can’t stop myself.

“I’m not like everyone else I don’t respond to flirting; I much prefer to spend time with a person and get to know them. I don’t want the Black Widow; I want to know the real Natasha Romanoff.” Y/n softly says making me nod along with her words, how dumb am I? why didn’t I think about this.

“I’m sorry Y/n I’ve spent my whole life around people who just want the Black Widow that I didn’t think some people would want to know Natasha instead. Can we start over? Hi my name is Natasha Romanoff” I say with a soft smile, I put my hand out in front of me and I squeal internally when I feel the soft hand of Y/n slip inside it.

“Nice to meet you Natasha, my name is Y/n L/n pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Y/n softly tells me with a big smile on her face.

“Would you do me the honour of coming out to dinner with me tonight?”

“I couldn’t think of anything better Romanoff”

#i'm not like everybody else #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff

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nataliasquote · 2 months

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Can’t You See This Is Breaking Me? | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves

Warnings: injuries, blood, stitches, no happy ending

wc: 5.2k

note: this idea was given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova (love you 🤍) and she’s fuelling my love hate relationship with angst. Also, this was so hard to condense, so I’m sorry if it’s lacking detail. I tried to cram three years of a relationship into 5k words :)

-⧗-

It was no secret to anyone how little regard Natasha had for her own life. Even since her very first Shield mission, she’d been a force to be reckoned with, partly down to her pure destructive nature. She didn’t care if taking down Hydra agents meant coming away with a bullet wound or two. Or if destroying an enemy testing laboratory meant four broken ribs and a cracked collar bone. As long as the job was done, that was all she cared about.

Nick Fury was getting tired of how many lectures he had given a young, 25 year old Natasha in his office when he’d read her completed mission report. He knew why she had such a blatant disregard for her life but it didn’t make it any easier seeing one of his best agents beaten and bruised each week. The redhead barely flinched when her wounds were inspected, but to be honest she didn’t really react to anything.

She was more of a ghost really, a pale figure soundlessly walking the halls at night. If her injuries didn’t let keep her awake at night, then the nightmares gladly took their turn, drenching her entire body in a cold sweat and leaving her shivering in her tangled sheets. But if the dark circles under her eyes looked worse, her friend and mentor Clint didn’t utter a word.

The structure and routine that manifested week by week kept her grounded and focused. Wake up, train, eat, surveillance, sleep. Missions were a welcome break from the otherwise monotonous rhythm Natasha had found herself in. She much preferred working solo as opposed to in a team, but Shield was all about team work so she had to suck it up.

A lot of the time she found herself alongside Clint Barton who weirdly offered her a feeling of comfort. She liked how he never pried too much into how she was feeling, or her past, but kept a look out for her whenever they were together. Her icy demeanour slowly melted away thanks to his warmth that he never failed to show her.

He showed her how to let people in, how to not keep her heart so tightly guarded in fear of actually feeling something about someone. And as much as she would hate to admit it, he was right. It did feel better knowing people cared about her. But it also terrified her at the same time. Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit.

Yet somehow she had managed to let her tough exterior be pushed aside just long enough for a certain someone to wiggle her way in and take up permanent residence inside the redhead’s mind.

Y/n Y/l/n wasn’t really anyone compared to Natasha. Sure, she was a shield agent, and a high ranking one at that, but that was nothing compared to an Avenger. She’d spend years in their shadow, always looking up to Natasha Romanoff. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s pretty badass.

But the young agent thought her relationship with said Avenger would end at idolisation and daydreaming. She never expected to suddenly be living amongst them in the compound. But when an empty training room was suddenly disrupted at three in the morning, it was a sign things were to change forever.

Y/n relished the silence that the training room at night brought. Most of her colleagues preferred to train in a group at 7am, but insomnia often brought her into the gym a lot earlier. She loved it though; a way to clear her head and exhaust her body whilst maintaining peak physical fitness required in case of a last second mission.

Lost in a world of music playing through her headphones, Y/n failed to notice the door slowly open, caught up in her boxing routine on the punch bag. She should have been more aware of her surroundings, like she’d been trained, so that she didn’t nearly jump out of her skin as a voice cut through her music.

“You’re gonna get a sore back if you keep using the wrong form.”

Without having ever met in person, Y/n would recognise that voice anywhere. She whipped around and quickly pulled her headphones off around her neck, cheeks flushing as she took in the woman in front of her.

A black sports bra and navy sweatpants was all that adorned Natasha’s toned body. She stood there with a hand on her hip, the other holding a small towel, a water bottle and her own pair of headphones. Y/n desperately tore her eyes away from the widow’s toned abs, feeling her own insecurities creep upwards. She itched for her sweatshirt that lay discarded on the bench just out of reach. That was the last time she ever trained in a sports bra.

“You keep twisting your back as you punch. You need to move from your hips.” Y/n just looked at her with surprise, not fully processing that they were having a conversation at all. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, sure.” That snapped her out of her trance. Y/n took a step back and allowed Nat to place her things down before she packed a swift punch to the bag, sending it swinging slightly on its stand. Y/n couldn’t lie, she looked really good, arm muscles tensed as she threw a few more punches. Her form was impeccable, but of course it was.

“When you swing round you have to rotate your hips for momentum. Just turning from your back will cause injury.” Y/n nodded, mirroring her stance on the punching bag beside Natasha. “Unless you’re doing lots of smaller ones, then you need to keep your hips still. That just comes from your shoulders.”

Nat threw a few more punches before Y/n copied, missing the small smile that broke out on the Russian’s lips as she observed. Fast learner, she noted, nodding in approval as Y/n turned back to her.

“Very good.” She bent down to grab her things, back muscles on full show to Y/n who just could not stop staring. You’d think she was used to the sight of toned bodies after working out everyday, but there was something different about Natasha and she couldn’t quite work it out.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, by the way. I work in-“

“I know who you are,” Natasha said casually, looking the woman up and down. “You work with Hill. She talks about you.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “She does?”

Nat smirked. “Yeah, why? Does she not talk about me?”

“No, she does- we do-“ what happened to calm and collected shield agent she once was? Reduced to a stuttering mess of words in front of a pretty redhead. God, Y/n cursed herself for not being able to talk to women.

“I’m joking, don’t worry.” Natasha gave her a soft smile before walking off to the weights section, her headphones shutting out the world so she could focus.

Y/n however, could not focus on anything except that brief interaction. It was probably so small in Natasha’s life, yet it would consume Y/n for at least a week, if not more. Maria was going to have a field day with this.

Except it wasn’t small in Natasha’s life. The flustered agent had left quite a mark and Natasha found herself creeping down to the gym at 3am most mornings, hoping to see the woman she’d grown to love so much. And, more often than not, Y/n was there, punching away at the bag and pausing when Nat came in.

Over a course of many weeks, both had changed their training plans to match each other. It felt nice working out with another, Natasha had to admit, and Y/n was so easy to talk to she set the redhead right at ease. They talked and laughed and Y/n noticed how the usually uptight Russian had come out of her shell a lot more since that very first night.

However, one night didn’t go so smoothly. Y/n was in the training room first, of course. She sat on the bench and adjusted her socks, keeping herself busy until Natasha arrived. The past couple of nights had been just her as the redhead had been on a mission, but Maria informed her that she would return tonight, so Y/n anxiously awaited her return. She was more worried about Natasha than she let on, but they had no relationship outside of those four walls so she bounced her knee, willing her new friend to walk through the doors.

And she did. Except this wasn’t the confident Natasha she usually knew. No, this Natasha was walking stiffly, almost as if she was in pain.

“Nat?” Y/n asked, standing hesitantly at the sight of her. Small cuts and bruises littered her face and what skin was exposed under the neck of her tactical suit. Agents always had to report to medical following their return from a mission, but by the looks of Natasha, she hadn’t done that. “Why- what are you doing here?”

“Can’t miss training with my favourite girl, now can I?” She tried to sound upbeat but it fell flat, her pain evident even in her voice.

Y/n pushed aside the butterflies that erupted in her chest at those words and sprung up to help her, guiding Natasha to the nearest bench and forcing her to sit. She took note of how Natasha’s hand tightly clutched her side and she feared the worst.

She thought for a second, feeling Natasha’s eyes all over her face. “May I…?” She gestured to the zip on Natasha’s suit and the redhead nodded, stiffly manoeuvring her arms out of her sleeves as Y/n tugged it down to her waist. The agent had switched to processional mode and ignored how close Natasha’s bra clad chest was to her face as she inspected her side.

“What happened?” She asked, crouching down with a hand gently resting on the redhead’s knee as she gently felt the skin around the wound.

“Some stupid agent snuck up on me and threw his knife. Shit aim though.” Of course she tried to make a joke, but Y/n wasn’t laughing as she looked into her eyes. The redhead almost wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have done if anyone else looked at her with pity like that, but Y/n was different. Safer.

“Why didn’t you go to medical?”

Nat looked down, averting her eyes. “I didn’t want to. I hate it there.”

Y/n knew not to push. She didn’t know much about Natasha’s past but knew enough to know that it must have been horrific to endure. She sat back on her heels and bit her lip in thought.

“Will you let me sort it? I keep a suture kit and supplies in my bathroom.” She caught Natasha’s eye and gently squeezed her knee, trying to establish enough trust between them to let her accept the help. But Natasha was stubborn, so there was truly no way of knowing which way she’d swing.

“Ok.” That was not the expected answer but Y/n was happy to hear it. She knew not to help Natasha up, the redhead probably would have punched her, so she collected her things and led them both back to her apartment, walking a bit slower than normal to help Natasha keep up.

Her room was nothing special and probably looked identical to Natasha’s as they both had Shield issued rooms. Although Natasha’s would be fancier thanks to Tony Stark and his upgrades.

There were no personal items on any of the surfaces, not even in the bedroom. Natasha looked around with a frown, not liking how bare everything seemed. Not homely, that’s for sure. Even the bedside cabinets were empty, not even a picture frame for decoration.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right out.” Natasha chose the couch by the small coffee table and sank down onto it. The couch wasn’t anything special and neither was the table, ring marks displaying its age and use on the surface. The overhead light was dim but brightened up as Y/n stepped back into the room, a medical kit tucked under her arm.

She worked in silence, only broken by a hiss of pain from Natasha as the alcohol stung her wound. Y/n muttered an apology under her breath but kept working, fingers brushing gently over the soft skin as she made light work of stitching it closed. They weren’t the neatest but they’d do the job just fine.

“Thank you for this,” Natasha spoke into the silence, her eyes fixed on her fingers that rested on her lap. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, trying to organise her thoughts. She had people who cared about her, the Avengers, but not quite like Y/n had. She didn’t care who Natasha was, or how well she could take down enemies. She just enjoyed her presence and cared for her as a human being, something she rarely felt like she was.

“Can I make this up to you?” She tentatively asked, the strong Black Widow now a weird mess of nerves. What even was this?

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Come out with me on Saturday, into the city. Can I buy you lunch?”

Y/n stifled her smile and hid her face whilst packing up her equipment. She knew Natasha was asking her out on a date, albeit in a very roundabout way. It warmed her heart though, seeing her so soft. It was a side very few people ever got to see.

“Ok, sure. I’d really like that.”

Natasha smiled. “Now I know where you sleep, I’ll come pick you up.”

Y/n scrunched her nose at the odd phrasing. “You had to make it weird.”

“You know me,” she replied with a wink.

~~~

That date was a catalyst for many more to follow, and many midnight training sessions too. It took six more months of flirting and secret meet ups before Natasha pulled her heart out and wore it on her sleeve, asking Y/n to be her girlfriend.

The agent wasn’t stupid, of course she said yes. And at first their relationship was purely in the honeymoon stages; sneaking kisses in the hallway, comforting touches underneath the table, more midnight training and also moving in together. Natasha’s apartment was bigger than Y/n could ever have imagined and she adored the bed, starfishing face down on the mattress the first time she saw it.

But that was two years ago. Sure, they were still very much in love but something had shifted between them, creating a rift that Y/n had started to notice more and more. She knew what was causing it too.

Natasha was going on missions every other week, for days at a time. And she’d fallen back into her old habits, putting the job and the result over the safety of herself. More times than not did she come battered and bruised, open wounds bleeding as she walked into the bedroom. Y/n begged her to stop, to stay home more, to reduce the amount she went on even just to one a month, but her desperate attempts were met with a slammed door and a wall in Natasha’s mind. But she still persisted, trying again the next time Natasha came home. But it was useless.

Y/n always waited up for her though, the nerves of what state Natasha would be in when she returned making sleep pretty much impossible. Whatever she imagined, somehow it was always worse. She used to quiz Natasha as she led her into the bathroom and patched her up, placing kisses on each bruise that she found.

But now they barely said a word, Y/n almost running on autopilot as she cleaned cuts on Natasha’s back for what felt like the millionth time. It was draining her, anyone could see that, and being on edge all the time had made Maria notice.

“Take a week off to clear your head,” her supervisor had ordered, not taking any protests into consideration. “I don’t want to see you in this office before next Thursday, Y/l/n.”

A week off would have been great for anyone else but her. Natasha was away, again, which left Y/n with no ways to fully distract herself like she usually did to cope. She spent the first day in bed, holding onto Natasha’s pillow as her tears soaked the pillowcase. She hated how out of control she felt when Natasha was gone. It was her job, yet Y/n often wished Nat would retire, or at least pull back from constantly being in the field. But that’s what her girlfriend loved, so she had no choice but to respect it.

But on the third day of very little sleep and increasing stress levels, Y/n hit breaking point. She stared at her ghostly reflection as she splashed her face with some water, trying desperately to snap herself out of the lie she was feeling. But under the glaring lights all she could focus on were the heavy bags under her eyes and her discoloured skin, pink blotches littering her cheeks and forehead. She’d been picking at her skin to cope, but it did nothing but make her look worse.

She remained a zombie all day, curling back under the covers at 7pm to shut out the world. There was no telling when Natasha would return but part of her didn’t want it to be yet. She didn’t want to see the state she was in, the mess that she’d have to clean up. She loved Natasha, she really did, but with no contact allowed on her missions and no updates from the team, Y/n was starting to question if their relationship was even working.

She flicked off the light and turned to face the wall, images flashing in front of her as she worried herself stupid about her girlfriend. What if she wasn’t coming home? What if she’d been kidnapped? What if-

The apartment door opened.

Y/n held her breath, pulling the covers tightly under her chin as she waited. She knew the sound of Natasha’s footsteps based on her different moods, but the assassin stepped so lightly it was hard to tell. She felt footsteps getting closer and closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to face the horrors to come. She wanted one more blissful moment, but her heart was racing in her chest and her throat was getting tight.

The bedroom door opened.

Light from the living room flooded in through the small gap as Natasha stepped through, brows furrowed at the darkness. It wasn’t that late, but maybe she’d missed something. Wasn’t like she was around much.

“Y/n?” She whispered, not wanting to turn the light on. But she didn’t need to worry about that when suddenly the room was bathed in light. Her girlfriend was sat up in bed, eyes blotchy as she stared at her with a hand on the light switch. “What happened?”

“What hurts?” Y/n asked, sliding off her side of the bed and padding over to the bathroom. “Stitches? Probably bruising too.” She was talking to herself more than Natasha, hands working to gather her supplies. But she was stopped when a pair of rough hands gathered hers inside them, tugging her away from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” Natasha said, removing one of her hands to gently cup Y/n’s chin, tilting her eyes to meet her own. “Just a couple of bruised ribs, but that’s nothing.”

“At least let me look at them.” Natasha knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so she unzipped her suit and pulled it to her waist, revealing the nasty colourful sight. It was swollen and tender and Y/n cursed under her breath. She grabbed the tiger balm and gently applied it, trying to steady her shaking fingers as they touched Natasha’s skin.

“How have you been? How’s work?”

“Its fine, thanks.” Y/n wasn’t going to admit that Maria made her take a week off. She avoided Natasha’s gaze as she worked, even though there wasn’t much she could do for bruised ribs. “I’ll get you an ice pack when you’re dressed.” That was Natasha’s dismissal cue and she took it, but not without lingering in the doorway to watch Y/n for a moment.

By the time Natasha was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/n had wrapped the ice pack in a towel and handed it to her. There was an uneasy tension between them and Natasha could see something was on Y/n’s mind, just waiting to be said.

“Y/n-“

“This is your last one, right?” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out. Somehow she found the confidence with her back to Nat, sitting on her side of the bed. “Please tell me it’s your last one.”

“Of what?”

“Your missions, Natasha.” She bent one knee and tucked it beside her as she turned her body to face Natasha who was still standing in the middle of the room, ice pack pressed to her ribs. “How many times are you going to keep doing this? Coming home in a state! I never know if one day you’re just not going to come home at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip. She knew this was going to happen, it always did. And shutting Y/n down didn’t exactly get easier with practice. “Don’t do this again Y/n, please. You know what my answer is.”

“No, Natasha. I’m not gonna accept that anymore. I’m not asking you to quit all together. I just mean reduce the number you go on, take up desk work or surveillance, just something, anything, to get you out of the firing line.” Y/n ran her hands over her face, trying to keep herself together. But the more she spoke, the stronger her emotions got. “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Natasha had placed her ice pack on the bed, not feeling the need to hold it up right now. She couldn’t move, even though she wanted to run to Y/n. “I know you don’t like it-“

“I hate it.”

“Ok fine, you hate it,” she held her hands up in defense. “But that doesn’t mean I suddenly have to stop.”

Y/n stood up from her position, not wanting an ache in her back from turning so much. She and Natasha were now at eye level although the redhead’s stoic face was a lot more composed than her own.

“You’re not listening to anything I say. I never said you had to stop. Ever. Because that would be hypocritical coming from me.” Natasha pulled a ‘sounds about right’ face which Y/n just ignored. “I’m just asking you to reduce the amount you go on. Once a month, maybe? You can still be in the action, still do everything you love, but that way you’re safer and you’re here more. I hardly see you.”

Natasha shook her head. “Our line of work isn’t safe Y/n, even you know that surely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting defensive, having reached her limit of Natasha trying to shut her down.

Natasha was too stubborn to give up, even when she knew she fucked up. She just couldn’t let it go. “You rarely leave this place! Always stuck in the same office, the same four walls going insane every day! I don’t know how you do it! I’d rather quit than do that.”

“I do that because I can still contribute to the missions without the risk of getting blown to hell,” Y/n spat, taking full offense to Natasha talking down about her job. Sure, she didn’t go into the field as much as the other agents but she preferred to be in the chair, handling everything from above. “And you know damn well those missions you love don’t work without someone like me.”

“And that’s great, for someone like you. But I can’t do that, you have to understand me. I can’t be behind the fight, I have to be in it.”

“No one else goes on as many as you do, Natasha. Don’t you think that just once, someone else can take a mission-“

“I don’t care Y/n!” Natasha may be a passionate person but she never raised her voice. So her elevated tone made Y/n’s jaw clench, her innate response whenever someone shouted at her. “You don’t get to dictate my life! That wasn’t our agreement-“

“Agreement? What, so this is, are we some kind of, I don’t know, contract that you’re obliged to?”

Natasha scoffed, her eyes rolling back at the pure ridiculousness of her statement. This whole argument was pointless really but she entertained it, too stubborn to give in or let Y/n win. “Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m just sick of lying here in fear every week wondering if you’re actually going to come home or not! I can’t keep doing this Nat.” Y/n was having a hard time keeping Natasha in her vision as tears blurred in her eyes. But she wouldn’t let them spill. Crying meant Natasha won and she was done with backing down.

“We can’t keep having this conversation, Y/n,” Natasha grunted, running her fingers through her hair and tugging out the messy braid. “You know I can’t stop. This is my life, it’s what I was made to do. I can’t live without this job!”

“And I can’t live without you!” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down but she fought the urge to wipe it, praying Natasha didn’t see. But she did see. Of course she did. The Russian noticed everything.

Natasha went silent. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. In this line of work, relying so heavily on someone wasn’t a good idea. She knew that, it had been drilled into her since she was a child. But Y/n didn’t, and that’s where she slipped up.

“Don’t say that.” Heavy emotions and Natasha Romanoff didn’t really mix well. “You have to, one way or another. You can’t just rely on me Y/n.”

“Nat, I am in love with you but lately it feels like all you care about is your job. When is it going to feel like you actually want to be here? With me?”

“I do Y/n, I do-“

Y/n dropped her head. “I know there’s a but coming.”

Natasha looked at the defeated form of her girlfriend and winced. She never thought she’d ever be in the position where she had to choose between family and her job. But she knew what her choice would be, what it always had been. Long before she even had a family.

“This job means everything to me. I didn’t choose this life, like you did, I was forced into it. It’s part of who I am, and I can’t just stop doing that to be with you.” The second those words fell from her lips Natasha knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n adjusted the collar of her shirt and started to pace. If she was sitting down her leg would have been bouncing all over the place.

“What, that’s it? You’re just gonna call this whole thing off because you can’t take a break from your job?”

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“Us, Natasha! Us!” Y/n stopped in her tracks, gesturing between them both. They were on opposite sides of the room, a clear divide in space and opinion. “Unless there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. Maybe I’m just the girl who keeps your bed warm and stitches you up in the middle of the night, no questions asked. Occasionally gives you head if you are really in the mood-“

“Stop it Y/n.”

“Stop what? It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I am to you.”

“‘No, you’re so much more.” Natasha’s fingers were fidgeting with each other and they’d stumbled across a small cut on her palm that they were now playing with, the pain trying to keep her grounded. “But you have to understand that I can’t just take a step back. I love this job more than anything because I actually get to do something good with my skills that have been used for the opposite my whole life. I just need you to understand that, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Natasha just stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “No matter what, you will keep coming back here in a mess and I will keep fixing you up and we will keep having this conversation. Is there an end to this?”

“I won’t come here then.” Natasha stated simply, eyes darting momentarily to the bathroom door. “I’ll go to medical, where I should be.”

“You hate it there.”

“You hate me here.”

Y/n sighed, her breath shaky. This was the longest they’d ever fought for, and fighting Natasha was mentally exhausting. She had an answer to everything.

“I don’t hate you here, I just wish you’d fucking listen to me for one goddamn second!” Natasha nodded, almost challenging her to speak.

“I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but you haven’t exactly given me much of a choice. It’s me or the job, Nat. You choose. And you know what? If you choose me, you still keep half your job! But if you choose the job, you don’t get to keep half of me.” The last part sounded stupid but Natasha knew what she meant. She only had half of Y/n right now. The half that slept in her bed and fixed her wounds. If she chose her, she’d get the other half she fell in love with back.

But she couldn’t, could she? Natasha looked down, not wanting to watch Y/n’s face respond. “I’m sorry…”

“Get out.” It was barely a whisper but Natasha heard it. “Get. Out.” Y/n didn’t want Natasha to see her cry but when their eyes met again, Y/n’s were flooded with tears. She didn’t care, how could she when the green ones staring back at her were so cold. Natasha didn’t say a word, only grabbing her sweatshirt and slipping out of the room. The faint jangle of her keys sounded as the door slammed shut and only then did Y/n allow her walls to come crumbling down.

She collapsed onto the bed, only this time hugging her own pillow close as she choked out her sobs. They echoed around the room and her gag reflex kicked in from how hard she was crying. But all she could see was Natasha’s emotionless face staring back at her, not a hint of remorse visible in her eyes.

Reaching to flick off the light, Y/n caught sight of something that made her cry harder. Her bedside table hadn’t been empty for two and a half years. A single picture frame now sat there. And it was in that moment that Y/n wished it had just stayed empty.

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader

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sleepingdeath-light · 2 years

Text

thigh riding headcanons ; original avengers & loki (18+)

kinktober day twenty five extra

pairing ; bruce banner x gender neutral!reader, clint barton x gender neutral!reader, loki laufeyson x gender neutral!reader, natasha romanov x gender neutral!reader, steve rogers x gender neutral!reader, thor odinson x gender neutral!reader, tony stark x gender neutral!reader

note ; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

bruce banner

thigh riding is the safest way for bruce to pleasure you because there’s very minimal risk of him hulking out and hurting you

it also allows you both to work around his busy schedule and the state of exhaustion it leaves him in

like he can just lay back in bed in his pyjamas and let you take care of yourself with minimal work on his end whilst he just praises and encourages you in equal measure

or you can just straddle him when he’s at his desk in the lab and take care of yourself whilst he works on some paperwork — one arm holding you steady against his chest whilst the other works on whatever s.h.i.e.l.d assigned to him

he also just enjoys seeing you ride his thighs because he gets a perfect view of every expression and reaction you give him

clint barton

thigh riding is usually used as a type of foreplay for clint or just as a way for you both to get off when you’re both too tired or too busy to do anything else

it’s usually very messy and clumsy, filled with lazily wandering hands and sloppy kisses as you love against each other

he’ll be half guiding you, half letting you take control — getting pleasure both from pleasuring you and from the minimal friction caused by you brushing against his clothes crotch

clint isn’t necessarily talkative when you guys do this, but he does tend to let out a good few grunts, groans and muffled moans that sound vaguely like your name

big on teasing you about it after the fact either through outright stating how good you looked/sounded/felt or by slapping/pinching/patting your ass as a sign of appreciation

loki laufeyson

thigh riding is an act that loki can either take or leave depending on your preferences

like he doesn’t dislike it, and in fact would quite enjoy to see you pleasuring yourself on his thigh — so desperate for him that you can get off without much intervention so long as he’s there

but he solidly prefers oral and penetrative sex to thigh riding

that being said, if you were to ask him he’d be more than happy to oblige — spreading his legs wide to accommodate you where he’s sat and patting one thigh in an inviting gesture be treated by the smug, mischievous smirk that graces his features

he’d either give you his complete attention or none at all; either returning his focus back to whatever it was he was doing beforehand (likely reading a book) and allowing you to take what you needed from him, or taking complete control and guiding you every step of the way as you get off on his thigh

the former is a subtle way to humiliate you and get you to beg for him — to show off the effect he has on you without him having to say a word (you can’t get off without him yet you’re eager enough to soil his clothes with your desperation)

and the latter is a complete show of his dominant nature: large hands grasping at your waist or hips to hold you in place with no room for argument, piercing eyes shamelessly looking over every inch of your body, strong thigh pressed up against your clothed sex and silver tongue teasing and mocking you for your desperation

either way, your climax will come on his terms and you’ll be receiving plentiful teasing commentary before, during and after the fact (including remarks about you returning the favour in due time)

natasha romanov

thigh riding is something that nat enjoys being on the giving and receiving end of depending on her mood

if you’ve been good or she’s too tired to have sex with you, she’ll instruct you to straddle her thigh and ride it — keeping one hand on your hip to maintain control as she lets you take what you need

though this doesn’t mean she’ll let you get away with anything — you’re still very much so at her mercy even if you’re on top, so expect to be given instructions to follow and proper punishments if you fail to do so

even if your relationship is more vanilla, nat would still maintain this air of dominance she’d just lay off the punishments

if she were to ride you, however, it’s usually due to a combination of your misbehaviour and her need for release

as in she’ll straddle you and take whatever pleasure she wants, allowing you to see her completely bare and horny, but forbidding you from touching her and denying you that same release in return (i.e. you can see her but you cannot touch her)

steve rogers

thigh riding is a completely alien concept to steve and would only really be done if he’s too busy to tend to you otherwise (such as if he’s prepping for a mission and has been neglecting you)

doesn’t really guide you as he trusts you enough to let you take what you need, but will have one hand lightly gripping your waist to make sure you don’t fall

will dutifully follow any requests you make of him — though he will 100% get rather red in the face and stammer slightly through his “of course”s and “like that?”s

and whilst he does try to get his work done, he can’t help but get distracted and aroused by the sounds you’re making and the feeling of you sliding along his thigh — especially if you’re leaving a wet patch behind

so despite his best efforts, no more work will be done after this as thigh riding will usually precede love making unless he’s physically unable to do so for some reason

thor odinson

thor is always eager to please you and can get off on giving pleasure alone, so thigh riding would be something he’d happy to try with you

starts off very chatty and vocal, one hand leisurely resting on the small of your back as he praises and compliments you in every tongue he knows — only occasionally breaking it up with questions about if you’d like him to do anything

trusts you to take the reins for the most part, but will sometimes move his thigh up to meet you just to get a reaction out of you

well he tries to hand over the reins, but after a while the combined friction of your leg accidentally brushing against his crotch and the feeling of your arousal through his clothes starts to get the better of him and he starts to take control

of course he’s still chasing your high, but the way his large hands are gripping your waist and his mouth is crashing against yours — successfully muffling the loud groans and grunts he’s making — may be enough to convince you otherwise

but either way you’ll end up reaching your high soon enough, with plentiful bruises on your hips and the swollen lips to prove it

tony stark

tony tends to treat thigh riding as a type of foreplay or one way of him to meet you in the middle if you have a higher libido — which would be shocking considering his reputation

he doesn’t really get too much pleasure out of having you ride him, but he’s not shy about enjoying the view - tending to lean back on his forearms and letting you take what you need

shamelessly looks you up and down and is very big on dirty talk when you’re riding his thighs — commenting on how he can feel you through his clothes and telling you to just “take what you need honey/babe/etc.” whilst he relaxes

as foreplay he’d be much more involved, using it as a way to make sure you’re prepped and excited beforehand by moving with you and reaching down to play with you through your clothes as you grind against him

but either way this man will not be subtle about how much he loves seeing you come undone on top of him

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year

Text

Full Throttle [Avenger!/Biker! Loki x Fem. Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my Masterlist is HERE

Summary: (3) Wetsuit! Loki decides a change of travel arrangements requires a change of outfit, and other things. (w/c 3.1k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Language. Smuttish. Dirty talk. Biker!Loki themes. Dangerous driving. Mild Satchel! cringe.

“She’s gubbed, fellas.” Steve dusted his hands against his wetsuit, pretty face scrunched in dismay. “Comms, engine, satellite, everything.”

“Can’t Laufeyson do something...you know” Barton wiggled his fingers and leant backwards. The sight made you snort as Loki scoffed beside you.

“I keep telling you ignorant rubes that magic doesn’t work like that.” He folded his arms, peering suspiciously down the open ramp into the empty clearing.

Steve threw his hands in the air. “Then we’re jimmied.” he grimaced. “We’re...pardon my language ma’am, up crap creek without a pad-”

He stopped, eyes falling on something tucked behind the storage hold. On two some-things, in fact.

“Jeepers, how could I forget?!” he exclaimed, making you jump. “The Harley Davidsons, I was gonna…” he trailed off again, “-get 'em re-fuelled.”

Barton shot an expectant look at Loki, who shook his head. Clint rolled his eyes. “In that case, next town is three miles over. We’ll need to walk em’ there.” Everyone groaned.

Rogers walked ahead with Barton, deep in conversation over the seat of the motorbike. The endless landscape of unfamiliar foreign soil stretched before you, uneven dirt scattered in patches of green. Steve had insisted that they didn’t change back into uniform, ‘too conspicuous’ he’d said.

The damp wetsuit clinging to your body had now been a constant companion for several hours. A layer of sweat hung beneath the fabric, the warm scent wafting from your lowered zip.

Loki’s cum still clung to the insides of your thighs; fresh memories hammering into your brain with every drying, sticky step.

You could ask him to freshen you up a bit, at least make the suit less damp...but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. And besides, if you were honest; you kind of liked it.

You and Loki hung back from your companions, the Harley between you gliding upright placidly of it’s own accord.

“You could do this with theirs too, right?” you muttered, shooting a look at the god beside you who stared ahead at the beleaguered men with a playful smirk. “Indeed. But alas, Agent, they never asked.”

You could get used to this. Loki wasn’t so bad when he wasn’t being a petulant, arrogant pain in the arse constantly. At least, not to you. Perhaps I should fuck him more often, you thought; pushing the thought to the back of your mind as he cleared his throat.

“So Agent” he purred, “Are you looking forward to our little road trip? Barton seems to be under the impression that once we’ve refuelled, we should make it somewhere with communication capabilities in around an hour.”

Loki ran a hand absent-mindedly over his torso, straightening the neoprene. Your gaze hovered where his fingers rested on the hip harness, thumbs tucked into the tight cords pressed against his thick thighs as he swaggered forward. “Although it seems you may be pre-occupied with the past, rather than the future...Agent.”

His knowing words pulled your ogling eyes upward, meeting his gaze; sparkling with mischief. “You are so full of it.” you mumbled, resting an unnecessary hand on the handlebars. “Au contraire, Agent. Not even an hour ago it was you who was full of...it.”

You sighed deeply, teeth clenched as you pursed your lips. “As if I’ll be riding with you” you snorted.

Loki chuckled, “Would you prefer to ride on me, little one? Is that the source of your discontent?” he said, a bit too loudly for comfort.

“Shhhh” you hissed, eyeing your bulky teammates rolling forward up a coming steep hill. They had begun to bicker, Steve trying to wrestle the handlebars from Barton.

“You started it.” the god beside you mumbled coyly, lips stretching with barely-contained mirth.

“Can you even handle one of these things anyway? Might be a bit more complex than a horse.” you sneered, feeling familiar venomous adrenaline beginning to sizzle in your bloodstream.

Loki shot you a sideways glance, his brows lifting as he measured the weight of your audacious slight. He chuckled again. “Believe me, darling; I’ve yet to meet anything I can’t handle. Mare or otherwise.”

You grimaced, staring forward. “Well, regardless of your misplaced confidence- I’m driving.”

It was Loki’s turn to grimace. “I think not, Agent. Loki of Asgard will not be seen posturing like one of your screen maidens on the back of this contraption-”

“-and I’m not going to be spending the final minutes of my life clinging to your back as you kill us both with your arrogance, Loki.” you spat, walking faster to outrun his inevitable retort.

“Would you rather be clinging to my front, Agent?” he called innocently. His velvet tones were tinged with laughter as you stared resolutely ahead, trying to catch up to Clint and Steve.

“Count your blessings, darling – at least you had the best fuck of your life before your imminent demise...” he cooed after you, making you throw a silencing look over your shoulder.

That damn wetsuit still hung on him like a desperate lover; tightening against every decadent curve of muscle with each long stride. He ran a hand through his long hair, a smug look plastered on that devious face as he bit his lip through a smile.

Fuck, he’s insufferable; you thought, cursing the pool of re-warming arousal growing between your aching legs.

The ramshackle dot on the horizon had grown closer, a rickety tavern and make-shift gas station providing an oasis in an otherwise sparse landscape.

“This is the town?” you muttered to Barton. He nodded silently, gesturing to several shaky looking houses dotted further up the hill. Loki was currently occupied with another seduction, this time involving the middle-aged owner of the establishment.

“Cap should really get us some company credit cards or something, this is ridiculous…” you mumbled, making Barton chuckled beside you.

The grey-haired man’s sceptical brow furrowed in a scowl as he sucked a cigarette. He leant forward, increasingly spellbound under Loki’s honeyed words. Rogers held up two cannisters of petrol, the deep lines of the manager’s forehead softening as he nodded in agreement to the god’s proposal.

“Thank you so much, you shall be repaid...handsomely. This I swear.” Loki purred, giving a curt bow to the bemused manager as he retreated.

“You gotta tell me how you do that one day.” Clint said, eyeing the glass bottles lined up behind the smokey bar longingly. Loki grinned, pleased with himself. “Oh, Barton; would that I could. The truth is, I am simply gifted in the art of getting what I want.” He winked towards you, turning back towards Rogers with a satisfied smirk.

Over the next few minutes, you watched Steve and Clint awkwardly re-fuel the Harley Davidsons through the grimy window, swivelling back and forth on a creaking barstool. You looked over your shoulder, realising that the person who you had been very actively trying to ignore wasn’t even there.

A sigh built in your chest, the damp neoprene making your skin itch. ‘We should make it somewhere with reception in around an hour’.

With sudden clarity, you realised there was still time to make sure you didn’t end up on the same motorbike as Loki. Odds were if you went and sat on one, Barton or Rogers would join you first.

You jumped up from the barstool to make a hasty exit, turning just as the door at the back of the dingy bar swung forward; revealing a shadow-clad figure.

The dusty jukebox sprang to life, the familiar revving opening bars of Motley Crue shaking the small space as the manager dropped a glass, swearing loudly.

Your jaw dropped, the smokey haze clearing as the figure rested his elbow against the doorframe, looking up over a pair of vintage Ray-Bans.

Gone was the wetsuit.

Loki’s long legs were silhouetted in straight black jeans, his hip tilted as he tucked a thumb inside the strap of a sinfully low slung studded leather belt.

Fuuuuck, you thought; your stomach flipping. You’d lost count of the amount of times your pussy had shivered with need at the sight of this irritating man today.

What’s one more, you conceded; eyebrows scrunching together as you drank in his newest ridiculously theatrical display with a gulp.

He tilted his chin upwards, the sharp angle of his jawline devastatingly erotic in the hazy air. Long tendrils of hair skated over his shoulders, completely wild. He ran a hand through it, edging the bottom of his dirtied white t-shirt upward.

Hip muscles that had so eagerly pressed against your ass in the cave as he’d mounted you flashed into view; the grooves that lined in his taut skin making a violent shiver roll up your spine.

The t-shirt was tight. Flush against his chiselled abs dark streaks ran down the front like he’d rubbed oiled hands down it unthinkingly. A pendant hung against the v-neck at his chest, dull silver glinting in the low light between fine, dark chest hair smattered below his collarbone.

Loki’s lips curled in a smile below the dark glasses, the edges making his cheekbones sharpen.

He stepped forward, swinging a scuffed leather jacket over his shoulder. The thud of heavy boots stung the wooden floorboards, buckles clanking erotically with every purposeful step toward you.

“You look ridiculous.” you sniped, resting back on the barstool as Loki swaggered closer.

“Ridiculously handsome, perhaps.” he purred, “I’ve made a few physical alterations for the occasion, why don’t you see if you can spot them while we wait.”

You cast your eyes out to Steve and Clint finishing up with the bikes, before turning back to Loki now resting casually against the bar. He had pushed the Ray-Bans up, framing his perfect side profile. Christ, he looked so hot.

His finger hooked into the collar of the jacket resting on one broad shoulder, the leather worn with age. You reached out and stroked it. Still soft, though…- “Agent?” he murmured, raising an eyebrow.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, before you frowned. “Jesus, Loki...what happened to your face?”

Automatically your palm cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb over a deep scar which ran down his cheekbone. There was another running through his eyebrow. The skin was raised, even paler than his already fair complexion. It made him look...dangerous.

That’s ridiculous, you thought; realising you were stroking the skin. He’s already the most dangerous man you’ve ever met.

Loki chuckled, tilting his head to the side and capturing your thumb between his lips.

You felt his firm tongue press up the underside, catching the nail as he sucked backward. A small whimper escaped you at the sudden thought of that tongue suckling against your clit, those piercing eyes staring intensely from between your open thighs. The sight of your digit nestled in the warm heat of his mouth was almost too much to bear.

Loki’s eyes narrowed mischievously as he released your thumb with a soft pop. “Just a bit of fun, love.” he whispered mockingly with a smirk. “Call it, a...character study.”

You saw Loki’s fingers drum against the bar, feeling a cool wave like menthol roll over your body. Tattoos adorned his knuckles, the black ink of each letter slightly faded into his fair skin.

You squinted, mouthing the letters; C.H.A.O.S. It made you wonder if he’d added body art anywhere else.

Looking down, you were met with an unfamiliar t-shirt hanging loose; the top of a lacey bra just visible below the neckline. Black denim shorts hung low on your hips; a pair of heavy combat boots feeling solid against the wooden floor.

You raised your eyes to his, pursing your lips. “Easy Riders, Asgard…?” you said through gritted teeth, reciting the writing adorning your baggy tank top.

“I can change it back to the wetsuit, if you like?” he said innocently, making you roll your eyes.

“I cleaned you up a bit as well, darling. I hope that’s alright. Although the thought of you walking around with my seed smeared down your thighs beyond those little shorts was quite enticing.”

You smacked his arm, hard; the draped leather of the jacket providing a convenient cushion for the blow. It wouldn’t have hurt him either way, but it felt damn good regardless.

“Let’s not pretend you didn’t enjoy that.” he chuckled, as you turned to leave for the makeshift forecourt. “I did, actually.” you hissed, as the bell above the door tinkled.

“I wasn’t talking about your futile attempt at a punch, darling.” he purred, pushing off the bar and swirling the jacket around his head as he followed you, his arms gracefully finding their place.

The bright sunlight hit your face, making you screw up your eyes. Steve shouted over, beckoning you with one large wave of his arm. He swung a neoprene-clad leg over the red Harley, shuffling up to let Barton hop on the back. Shit.

“Well don’t you two look cute.” Clint drawled, chuckling to himself as he positioned himself behind Rogers.

You folded your arms, seeing Loki’s long shadow crawl into view on the broken tarmac in front of you. “You’re just jealous, Barton.” Loki hummed casually, sweeping his shaggy hair back where it had fallen over his shades.

“Dude, I wore that shit the first time around. I don’t think I could pull it off these days.” Clint smirked, running his eyes over Loki as his hands crossed around Steve’s stomach.

Loki drew a finger over the long handlebars of the empty green motorbike, circling around the front. “I was alluding to our riding partners, but I certainly agree with your assessment, Barton.” he quipped, before raising a leg deftly over the saddle.

He touched down in a manner that was entirely too sexual to be coincidental, hips thrusting forward as he settled against the leather seat.

“Think you can whip up some jeans and a t-shirt for us, Laufeyson?” Steve said hopefully, as the motorbike growled to life. Loki shook his head, “I’m afraid it-”

“-doesn’t work like that...got it.” Steve huffed. “We’ll rendezvous at the police station in the next town.” Loki rolled his eyes as his teammates’ bike wheels caught traction, carrying Rogers and Barton away in a swirling haze of dust.

The god slid up the long saddle, his spread thighs aching sexy encased in dark denim. Creases of fabric were raised at his hips, the bulge of his crotch outlined tightly against the jeans as he flexed his fingers around the handlebars. Rays of low afternoon light glinted on his glasses, messy curls falling around his face as a smile tugged his lips.

“Hop on, Agent.” he purred, kicking up the side-stand.

You sighed, accepting the inevitability of the situation. “Front or back?” you said mockingly, ambling over to the god straddled like a model atop the vintage bike.

Loki crossed his thick forearms over the handlebars, “Are you flirting with me again, love?” he goaded.

He smirked, watching your face harden with growing amusement.

You gripped the shoulder of his leather jacket, swinging your leg over the back of the bike. The curved seat fit perfectly to the space between your legs, pressing fiendishly against your throbbing clit.

How does he do this to me, you thought; rubbing needily against the hard leather between your legs for some temporary relief, suddenly realising Loki hadn’t manifested you any panties.

Loki straightened, one knee rising as he stomped down on the kick-starter to the side. The engine roared to life beneath his touch, the hum searing up your channel; sizzling every nerve.

He revved the engine; long tattooed fingers clasped tight around the throttle.

It felt fucking incredible.

“It’s so loud…” you yelled, feeling Loki’s back vibrate with laughter; his bladed jawline slicing into view as he threw a look over his shoulder.

“Things I ride have a tendency to be loud, Agent.” he bit his lip, eyes narrowing momentarily as you slid your hands around his waist. “You of all people should know that.”

Before you could think of a response, he revved the throttle again; louder this time, drowning out your gasp of surprise. Your fingertips dug into the leather tight on his torso, squeezing against the solid mass of muscle beneath the jacket as he pulled onto the open road.

Your thighs squeezed against the cool metal sides, pressing forward into the backs of Loki’s knees as you accepted your imminent demise. The engine growled louder as the god sped up, sporadic traffic beginning to appear in passing as you edged closer to civilisation.

“Watch out!” you screamed, bracing forward against his hard body as the motorbike swung to the left. You heard the low rumble of laughter through his back, pressing your forehead between his shoulder-blades.

“I was quite a figure on the drag-racing rally circuit in the 1960’s within this realm.” Loki said, his voice inexplicably clear in your ears as trees blurred at the side of the road. “You’re right. It is rather different to equestrian pursuits.”

Adrenaline soared, new confidence rising at the thought of that this was not, in fact, Loki’s first time. Of course it isn’t, you thought; raising your head to peer around his shoulder.

A car whipped past, making you jump as your hair whipped across your eyes. “Fuck!” you screamed, bursting into a peal of raucous laughter against the wind. Loki swerved again, tilting the Harley to the left as you clung on for dear life.

A wave rose in your stomach as a horn blared at his audacity, the roar of the petrol engine deafening you as he tore up the single carriageway. Huge potholes littered the unkept tarmac, every one dodged by the expert gliding movements of your Asgardian pilot.

His buffeting hair caught between your lips, making you rub your mouth against his jacket to free it.

“Loki, look…” you yelled, peering around his shoulder as your crossed hands tightened against his stomach. Cap and Barton came into view, trundling along at a very conscientious 30mph.

“Go faster, Loki!” you murmured against his shoulder, the leather moist under the condensation from your breath. “I can’t hear you, Agent.” Loki coyed, his voice breaking with mirth.

“Go faster…” you said, squeezing your legs on either side of the motorcycle like a stallion; nudging your breasts repeatedly against his back as Loki leant forward.

“Louder, Agent.” Loki yelled, the gravel in his deep voice catching as he commanded you.

“Faster, Loki!” you screamed, your face turning to the sky as he twisted the throttle all the way. You gasped as the earth whipped away from you, velocity pulling you backward as everything inside you tightened.

Exhilaration flooded your bloodstream, catching a glimpse of Barton’s utterly bored face turning to bemusement as you and Loki tore past at the speed of light.

A feeling of weightlessness filled you, the warning tones of Rogers whining voice passing as mere droplets on the tunnelled air; letting your arms fall to the side and be raised on the wind.

A primal roar erupted from Loki's throat, reminding you of the way he had lost himself inside you pressed against the wet limestone. He shook his head, curls flying backward out of his eyes.

Your palms were outstretched, fingers tracing the outline of every gust as your head fell back; hair buffeting wildly. Loki's victorious glee turned to something else as you felt him straighten at the loss of your touch.

“Agent...be careful.” Loki growled, one hand clasping like iron to your bare thigh.

His fingertips sank into the skin beneath the hem of your shorts as you laughed wildly, a whoop of freedom escaping your throat as you relished the turning of the tide.

“What happened to your ‘character study’?” you yelled, returning your hands around his waist, “I thought you were a badass, now.”

“I am, how you say...a bad ass.” he grumbled, pressing one large palm against your re-clasped hands. You pressed your forehead to his leather jacket as your body shook with laughter, tears pricking your eyes.

The engine hummed as miles flew by. Loki had slowed, slightly; and you found your attention wandering from the landscape at the side of the road to the one beneath your fingertips.

Your hands had fallen to rest on his hips, fingers sliding to gain purchase on the denim wrapped around those muscular legs.

“Agent…” Loki murmured warily, clear as day over white noise. The wandering hand slid over the curve of one thigh, squeezing firmly.

“Agent.” he growled, the menacing velvet rumbling through heavy breaths beneath the leather as he upped the speed once more. He swerved a deep crack in the tarmac, roaring forward into the path of an oncoming truck.

Palming against the rough denim, you felt the outline of his cock hardening furiously beneath your touch as he thrust upward involuntarily.

Fire sizzled through your core, feeling the thick meat of his manhood grow, inflating to fill the space of your flat grip. You moaned against the nape of his neck. Loki’s shoulders rolled back, a small judder shaking him as his breaths grew short.

A deep horn blared as Loki swerved sharply, feeling the rush of air sweep over you both as the truck thundered past inches away. You burst out in a screaming laugh against his back, giving his straining cock a squeeze.

There was a screech of tires as the god made another turn, braking harshly making the back of the Harley swing in a semi circle. Sharp gravel flew against your bare legs, dust filling the air; coating you both in a thin sheen of grey.

Loki swung a leg over the bike, twisting sharply and bunching your t-shirt in a fist. He hoisted you from the back of the bike, a flat surface slamming against your back before you had time to think.

“Chaos, Agent. Is that what you desire now?” he growled, tightening his grip. Your eyes flickered down to the fist clutching your tank top, the tattooed knuckles turning white as his gaze smouldered with rage.

“Doesn’t it make you feel alive?” you keened mockingly, echoing his earlier words of seduction in the cave. “I guess your ‘character study’ inspired me.” you quipped, making the furious god release you with a theatrical shove and a grunt.

“You think this funny?” he spat, towering over you with his hands on his hips. You shook your head, biting your lip. You didn’t know what had gotten into you, but judging by the warm juices seeping from your pussy underneath his venomous words; you liked it.

“I think you need some time to cool off, Agent.” he said, enunciating every word. He slammed a palm beside your head against ageing wood, the heavy scent of leather filling your flaring nostrils as breath caught in your lungs.

You stared up at him, his pupils blown wide. A cracked sign swung above your head, the force of his theatrics making it sway – alkohol I hotel, it read.

“You seem thirsty, Agent” Loki murmured, lowering his lips to your ear as you trembled with desire; fingers clenching and unclenching as you attempted to stop yourself reaching for his body.

His jeans were fighting a losing battle against his furious cock…long, thick and tempting against the line of his hip. “I shall pick up a key, and I shall meet you in the bar. Yes?”

You nodded, pulling at the pendant dangling from his neck. The dirtied t-shirt stuck to the thin sheen of sweat coating his abdominals. God, how you wanted to rip it off.

Your fingers drew down to rest on the studded belt, pulling his hips towards you with a pathetic whimper.

“Patience, darling.” he purred, “Let’s see how you and this particular side of me get along on a more intimate level, shall we?”

“W-hat do you mean?” you stuttered breathlessly, as Loki’s eyes narrowed.

“Let’s say that there are certain proclivities associated with this brand of myself that I look forward to introducing you to, Agent.” he smirked, thrusting the hard column in his jeans into your waiting palm.

Continued in: Full Throttle: Motel Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

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#hostile f*cks collection #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x fem!reader #loki x reader smut #loki smut #lokismut #loki thirst #loki fanfiction #loki oneshot #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki marvel #loki laufeyson x reader #biker! loki

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stxrvel · 1 year

Text

the outbreak: extra (1.5)

summary: you had a word with bucky on your way to your last mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +2.5k

warnings: some bad words and slight angst.

note: hey! this wasn't planned but i wanted to add something else to the story that was surely missing. i hadn't thought about the self destructive behaviors we normalize in our daily lives and sometimes that is reflected in what we write. this conversation was something i had envisioned but hadn't seen possible, but i decided to finish it and post it after a whole day of reflection. this talk was perhaps VERY specific, but i've had conversations like this with my friends, so i hope you understand what i am trying to visualize. you can read it before or after part 2! the feedback is always appreciated! thank u for reading.

part 1

Clint was extremely quiet and curiously attentive. As you prepared everything to enter the Quinjet, you shared a silent moment that was uncharacteristic of him. Generally, he would begin a pleasant and seemingly normal chat, until he would start jabbing at you with his off-hand comments and jokes about anything that came to mind.

The Clint Barton who was with you in the armory room was not your typical Clint. You began to wonder what would have happened to keep him so quiet when you saw out of the corner of your eye that Bucky entered the room.

He hadn't been able to convince Fury to send Steve in his place on the mission, and during that week you had seen him only once, about twenty yards away. You wanted to pretend (as usual) that things hadn't broken down between the two of you. That that argument had never happened and that Bucky had never found out about the real thoughts going around in your head. That everything was just running its normal course and you still considered yourselves co-workers, at least.

But it was just you playing pretend.

Bucky walked past you, grabbed the weapons he needed, the razors and knives he handled so well, a couple of grenades that he carefully stowed in the loop of his suitcase and headed for the exit without a single glance at anyone.

Clint had his back to you, but you could feel his body tense, so still you could barely tell he was breathing, as if moving between you would set off a bomb or something.

“The Quinjet is ready,” Bucky exclaimed as he stopped in front of the door. “Don't be long.”

And he got out without further ado.

The mood didn't change later, when Bucky was piloting the Quinjet having a chance to leave it on automatic and Clint was sitting with you in the back of the ship, as far away from you as possible. You watched his figure in front of you and how he sent you wary glances from time to time. The situation was becoming tedious.

You knew you were pretending not to know what was going on. You were pretending that no one felt the tension that formed when you and Bucky were in the same room, mostly being emitted from your body because the man was like a big ice cube. It was the indifference you had seen so much of him direct at other people, especially those he didn't trust, and you never thought it would be directed at you. It hurt more than you could imagine.

So for that reason you preferred to just keep the image in your head of everything that had happened before that fateful day. Maybe your mind thought it would be easier to deal with the rejection that way, because you did know it would happen, and it had taken time for the moment to arrive, but when it finally had it swept in and took everything with it, leaving you just taking it all in in the deep silence.

When the Quinjet came to a stop at its destination, Bucky walked back between you and Clint to head for the rear ramp of the ship. He quietly grabbed his things and stepped out.

Clint had moved to unbuckle his seat belt when you felt the need to ask the question. You moved to mimic the man in front of you.

“Why are you acting like that?”

“Like what?” Clint turned to look at you in confusion, his brow furrowed, when he had fully risen.

You watched his figure begin to move toward the front of the Quinjet and felt everything inside you strangely stir.

“As if you were afraid someone would suddenly start burning up next to you.”

“Not true.”

You turned to look at the man with an ingrown eyebrow, and Clint only gave you a look of complete naivety as he sat down in front of the ship's controls. You walked over to where you had left your backpack and began putting away the few things you were going to need.

“You're too tense.”

Clint clicked his tongue. His body slumped over the big chair and he shifted his feet on the floor until he was facing you.

“It's just… being around you two is too uncomfortable. In and of itself just seeing Bucky these past few days is scary.”

You frowned as you moved your hands inside your backpack. You picked up one of the pocketknives Natasha had given you, with rose embroidery on the black handle. You saw out of the corner of your eye the pistol you had been given as equipment to use in case of emergencies, and you hesitated whether or not to take it.

“Why is it uncomfortable?”

You heard the man let out a laugh before answering. “Are you kidding me? The atmosphere is so tense that I could jump in the air and get caught in an invisible mesh.”

“Of course not. There's no discomfort at all. We're fine,” you repeated your mantra with an assurance that surprised you.

You took the gun in your hands after observing it for several minutes and felt its weight between your fingers, as if telling a story you didn't want to know. Will you carry it with you or…?

“You seem to have repeated that to yourself too many times to believe it. Cute.”

“It is what it is.”

Clint sighed and watched you carefully. Your gaze on the gun did not allow you to see him examine your figure for a while, and you barely noticed the silence that formed between the two of you. Clint, then, remembered something.

“Do you really think no one heard the argument you two had last week?”

You raised your head. You went blank. You let the gun drop into the backpack again and furrowed your brow, followed by closing it and putting it back where you had initially left it. You watched Clint warily, his serious face giving you to understand that he wasn't playing with you.

“The walls aren't that thick.”

You couldn't help but simply not answer him for several seconds because what were you going to say to him? You couldn't go back to saying that everything was fine between you and Bucky because clearly everyone now knew you had something and that an angry Bucky doesn't listen to any excuses and is unkind in that state.

That explained a lot about the sneaky looks you sometimes felt when you walked around the Complex and the therapist's card Steve had accidentally left at the foot of your bedroom door.

You saw Clint again with the face of someone caught red-handed, and at the same time you felt vulnerable because under no circumstances would that possibility have crossed your mind.

Would Bucky even know?

“Can you pretend with me?”

The man sighed, but seeing your agonized expression he agreed.

And then you had to go out to meet Bucky.

You had landed about a kilometer from the distance of the target, which was a small house in an abandoned industrial town. With the information gathered, you had been able to learn the nearest location of the target within some of the houses that were within a fifty meter radius from the center of the town. Clint, already in charge of the Quinjet, would leave to supervise from the height that everything was in order, and give air support if necessary.

Bucky was a few meters away from the Quinjet, his things arranged in their respective places and with his binoculars he observed the town from his position.

“It looks desolate,” you couldn't help but comment to break the choking silence.

The man hummed in response a nod and lowered the binoculars to pass them to you without turning to look at you.

“Look east from the center. It's the only house that has light.”

You took the object he offered you careful not to brush against his skin, and promptly used them to peer into the distance. In the center of the village there was a fountain that served as a traffic circle to connect the main roads. Looking to the east, even though it was daylight, you could notice electricity highlighting one of the houses.

“It could be the target.”

“Or a trap.”

You lowered the binoculars.

“Do you have to be so gloomy?”

Bucky gave you the first look of the day. His eyes were not rough and his expression was not coarse like the few times you had seen him before, he seemed a little calmer than before, but you tried not to raise your hopes thinking that clearly the man had to maintain professionalism during the mission. And you had to do the same. Starting by stopping over-analyzing him.

He looked like he wanted to answer you, or say something else, but he just turned around and started walking towards the path that led to the village.

You definitely wanted to say something, even though you also wanted to remain professional, because you didn't want to spend the next fifteen or twenty minutes in stony silence and with your thoughts being the only thing that answered the questions in your head.

Instinctively, you kept thinking that you still had that kind of relationship with Bucky. Like you'd ask him a question about anything and he'd answer trivially and then you'd tell him something super curious about the sky and the trees and he'd listen like he was being told the truths of the universe.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

Why did everything have to have been complicated like this?

You walked through the dry grass and stones, enduring the silence for several minutes. Every time you looked up to see the town, you felt it receding instead of coming closer. Bucky's body in front of you moved easily through the grass, almost as if he were levitating through nature.

Again, you felt that itch in your mouth with the urge to say something to fill the silence, but your mind suppressed your body's instincts. You hated it when routines disappeared, especially when they involved people who were important to you. You didn't like the sense of loss that came with the truth and that you had thought that by that point you would be more than used to it, but it seemed you had only fooled yourself.

You did it before and you were doing it then. Some things just wouldn't change.

You were seriously thinking about starting to talk to the trees when you heard his voice:

“I'm sorry.”

What?

“What?”

Bucky sighed, and after a few seconds you thought he wouldn't speak again and that he had only, unlike you, let his impulses win the battle, until you heard him again:

“I regret how I acted the last time we spoke.”

His words left you perplexed. You had expected anything less than to start a conversation about it, especially to apologize.

You frowned, not knowing exactly what to say. You weren't used to people showing that kind of remorse after walking away from your life. You suddenly felt uncomfortable, and feared the direction the conversation would take.

“Well, you had your reasons for being angry…”

“Yes, I had reasons to be angry, but all I did when you gave me the truth was walk away. That wasn't the right thing to do.”

“Well, what else were you going to do? If you stayed and hugged me you weren't going to solve anything. It's okay, Bucky, it's not like I was expecting you to do anything different.”

The man stopped his steps, and you would have collided with his back had you not been a safe distance away, your legs trying to match his stride, but failing miserably.

You saw his body turn in your direction with a puzzled expression. You tried to hide in the back of your mind the voice that constantly reminded you not to talk about those subjects. You didn't want to evoke those sensations that kept you religiously away from your feelings, the defensive actions of your own head trying to keep the boat of your sanity afloat. You didn't want Bucky to keep harping on the subject, but you knew he would.

“Are you saying that-?”

Bucky shut his mouth. Before he finished speaking, he pursed his lips into a line and took a deep breath. You could glimpse that he was dealing with his own thoughts at that moment.

“It's not normal, Y/N, nor good for a person to leave you like I did after telling you something with so much meaning to you. And also, that it took me this long to bring it up...”

You hummed in response. He was telling you the same thing that many other people had told you throughout your life, but you didn't know why his were causing your body to react differently. It was like having your chest spread out like the wings of a butterfly. It was such a strange sensation, so foreign to you that you were unconsciously afraid of it. You didn't want to feel it. You wanted it to go away.

“Why did you do it then?”

“Because I was an unconscious idiot. That's why.”

The man resumed his march as he finished speaking, and you had to wiggle quickly to keep up with him. You felt your head moving a thousand miles, as if it could travel a hundred times back and forth the village road without stopping for air once. You couldn't find a way out of the conversation, so you tried to beat around the bush.

“But aren't you a little hard on yourself? You're going to therapy, aren't you? You have things to deal with, too.”

“Maybe you're used to people leaving you, but that doesn't mean it's okay.”

You furrowed your brow, almost stopping your steps and watching his back. It wasn't okay for people to leave you? You'd lost count of all the times you'd asked yourself that question since you'd had the conscience to do it. You didn't want to think that the world was cruel to you, that people were mean to you, but that the world and people didn't have to deal with the shit you carried around.

The words died in your mouth when Bucky stopped again and that time you almost crashed into him.

“I didn't mean it that way. The truth is, people suck, and there will be plenty of fuckers who decide to leave rather than stay and help you grow. Maybe you met a lot of them and started to see them as normal, but that's not the case. That's not usual, much less with someone you consider your friend.”

“Friend?”

Bucky nodded in response.

“As in appreciation and respect?”

“Yes, you couldn't have defined it better.”

You saw him look away, suddenly sinking into his thoughts before resuming his march on his way into town. You followed him, that time more closely thankful that he was no longer jogging like he was in a marathon. There was a contradiction of emotions in your chest and in your head. There was a part of you that liked what Bucky said, that actually rejoiced in his response and appreciated his sincere apology; but there was another part of you that continued to disown his tokens of appreciation, that didn't want him to see you from above as if you were a little ant he could step on with his shoes.

That part of you that wanted to believe his words clashed with the part of you that didn't want to be vulnerable again.

“I was supposed to be that for you. Then I pushed you too hard, didn't know how to talk things out and also didn't know how to deal with the response I got. I was too angry, but that shouldn't have been a justification.”

“You wouldn't have gotten the information out of me any other way, you know that?”

“I don't think so.”

“You would never have gotten it. If you had stopped, I would have put up walls to keep you from ever coming near me again.”

You meant what you said, and Bucky knew you did. Suddenly, you felt as if in that moment you could deploy the walls to stop him from talking.

“I'm not justifying anything I did, Y/N, I also don't want to say that's how it was supposed to happen because I'm sure I would have found another way. If I hadn't let my emotions win…”

“Can we just let it be? I already know you're sorry and I told you everything was okay.”

“But nothing is okay.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, you're trying to avoid the subject.”

You snorted loudly. You hate it. You didn't want to be rude to him, but you were reaching a limit you could barely tolerate when dealing with such topics.

“Can you blame me? I feel like I've already exhausted all the feelings talk I could possibly have in a year.”

“It's not wrong to talk about these things…”

“And, still, I'd rather not.”

Suddenly, it was like having a rush of adrenaline running through your body. You started to move your legs quickly, and surprisingly you were able to overtake Bucky and start walking ahead of him. Although you looked as if you were not too affected by Bucky being this insistent with your feelings, you actually had your heart beating at an impressive speed. Your chest contracted with every breath and you felt a rock settling in the pit of your stomach. Suddenly it seemed that the temperature had dropped drastically and your hands were breaking out in a cold sweat. A shiver ran through your body and you felt fear at the possibility of Bucky bringing up that subject again.

“You should consider seeing Dr. Green.”

You stopped your steps. You watched Bucky walk toward you and not stop as you asked him, "How do you know about that? Did Steve tell you about the stupid card?"

The man gave you a sidelong glance.

“I gave it to him.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #james bucky barnes #avengers #bucky fluff #bucky x you #marvel #bucky imagine #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x fluff #the outbreak

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marvelwitchergilmore · 11 months

Text

Out Of Depth (But We’ll Be Okay)

Summary: Clint Barton x Fe!Reader -> You and Clint have been having an intimate relationship and it’s been hidden from the rest of the team. But, what happens when Fate throws you both a curve ball and it can no longer remain a secret?

Disclaimer: Fluff, swearing, feelings of being completely terrified of life, Sam and Bucky being idiots. Ignoring Endgame and CW. Clint has never been married or has kids in this fic. Friends/Co-workers to lovers. FwB SMUT (description is brief in the beginning, so feel free to skip), mentions of unprotected sex (be safe, wrap it up) MDNI. IF YOU CONTINUE READING THIS, YOU ARE CONSENTING TO READING 18+ THEMES. THIS IS YOUR WARNING.

Clint was good at his job.

He had to be. He had no other choice. If he wasn’t good, that meant he was bad and that could result in one of two things. Either, he’d get fired. Or, he’d die. If he was bad at his job, he’d prefer his exit to be the former of the two options, but when it came down to it, he wouldn’t really have a choice.

But, he was good at his job. So, it didn’t matter.

What he wasn’t good at, however, was being a dad. Or, at least, being told he was about to become one and not freak out about it.

You had told him three days after you had found out yourself.

You could remember it. Being stood in your bathroom until you saw the very pink double lines appear on the centre of the stick, which made you back up until you sat on the toilet seat and placed a hand to your mouth.

At first, you didn’t know how to react.

You and Clint weren’t exactly…together.

It had started just over a year ago when, after some strange happenings on missions, you found comfort in one another. It was just simple and casual. No strings. Just sex. But you were friends. And co-workers. So, you were both incredibly careful.

But then you remembered the night in the hospital. Well, medical bay.

10 weeks prior, you’d both been on a mission that left you more than worse for wear. Stage 4 concussion, three broken ribs, the rest severely bruised, cuts and scrapes to the rest of your body and loss of memory for the first 24 hours.

But, on your final check-up, you were left by the doctors, alone, in your room.

During your stay, Clint had come almost every night to sit with you. Even helped you get to and from the bathroom when the lights were too bright and your entire body felt like it had just been hit by a 1000 tonne truck.

Other nights, when he wasn’t helping you to and from the bathroom, he’d lie with you and you’d both sit and watch some crappy old movies that Clint had managed to find. Some were better than others, but even then, you’d both fall asleep half way through.

But, after 10 weeks, you had your final check up and Clint came to see you.

You both talked for a while, about what was to come. What missions would be given, when you were going to be put back into the field, what he had done to Natasha to make her so mad that she came to you to ask for help in getting back at him.

And then he sat beside you and asked how you were feeling.

“Like I want to get out of here.” you had answered honestly. “I just want to get back to normal.”

“And your head? You took quite the hit.” Clint pushed a strand of hair from your face so he could see you more clearly.

“The concussion has gone but I still have a small headache.”

“You know, there are ways to get rid of that.”

You smirked, already having an idea on where Clint was going with this. “So, I’ve heard.”

“Maybe I could help you out?”

“Really? How so?”

Slowly, Clint moved closer to you before you continued to lie back until he was flush against you and the mattress where he slowly kissed your neck.

“Well, there is the usual. Yoga,” a kiss, “Sleep,” another, “some weird tea that probably tastes like nail polish remover,” another kiss. “And then there's my idea. And, it technically hits two of the three.”

“Oh, really?” you laughed as he continued to press his lips against your skin. “And what is that?”

“I think you already know, baby.”

You smiled before his lips met yours. From there, your bodies took over. Your hands came up his side before pushing their way through his hair. His knee pressed between your thighs, teasing you ever so slightly. Meanwhile, his hands gripped at your hips pulling you closer as a moan emptied itself into his mouth.

“Let me take care of you,” you heard him tell you before his lips moved back down your neck, leaving a trail of, come by morning, love bites in their wake.

Usually, you were both so careful. But that night…that night you just wanted each other. Needed each other, even. You let him take care of you; his fingers pressing into your skin just hard enough to make you want more, his lips and tongue leaving marks across your body that only made it yearn for more, his knee pressing against you before he replaced it with his hand, his fingers curling up inside of you. All the while, he watched you curse underneath him, swear to God, swear to anyone who would hear your cries of pleasure. He felt your hands roam his body until he finally moved himself to your core where he felt your fingers and nails run themselves down the back of his head and neck, begging him for more.

You climaxed twice before he entered you, and even then, you came again.

He was the only man who had done this to you. Others, they had come close, but it was never like this. Clint took his time, teasing your body in ways you didn’t know would have you begging for him to the point where you felt as if it was going to last forever.

And afterwards, he’d take care of you then, too. He’d wipe away any wetness from you before handing you a glass of water and helping you stand despite wanting to fall asleep in his arms there and then. By the time you’d get back from the bathroom, he’d hand you a t-shirt of his that just covered you - but still, if you weren’t both so relaxed, he’d take you there and then…again.

And you’d let him.

But that night, rather than using any safe measurements, it all remained unprotected. Something that would only come to your mind after being sat in the bathroom for an hour and half, staring at the two very pink lines on the white stick.

It took you three days to initially come to terms with what was about to happen. Even then, you hadn’t fully accepted it. You were pregnant with Clint’s baby. And in 9 to 10 months, that baby will be born, hopefully healthy, and soon enough would be an exact share of your and Clint’s DNA.

On the fourth day, you went in search of Clint. And, you found him in his bedroom at the compound.

After giving your knock, he called for you to come in.

“It’s unlocked!”

The moment you entered, you locked the door behind you.

“Clint?”

“In here.”

Tony had created a connecting room for him to practise against targets so when you entered he had his arrow drawn and released it on bullseye.

“Hey,”

“Hey.”

“We need to talk.”

“I’m all ears.”

You nodded. Mostly, his focus was on the targets so at least that made it easier not having to look him in the eye.

“Okay, I’ll just get to it,” you took a breath, clasping your hands together. “I’m pregnant.”

The arrow that Clint had drawn and intended to go through bullseye once more…landed in the wall.

“You’re…”

“Pregnant,” you nodded. “9 weeks, I think, at least.”

“When did…”

“Three days ago. I know, I’m freaking out, too.”

Clint looked back to the targets, not knowing where else to look.

“I just thought you should know.”

Clint nodded before backing up and sitting down on one of the chairs beside the wall.

“You’re pregnant?”

You nodded. “Yep.”

“And I’m gonna be…”

“Yep.”

“Huh.”

You moved to sit beside him. “I know. Believe me, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing.”

“Does anyone else know?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“You’re really pregnant?”

Sighing, you lifted your hips from the chair to pull the fresh pregnancy test from your back pocket. “Pretty positive.”

You handed him the test where he let out a small gasp, covering his mouth as he looked down at the two pink lines.

“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing.” you said. “And…if you don’t want to be involved, I’ll figure it out. But, I want you. I want you to be involved.”

“No, no, no,” Clint cut you off. Despite the fact he was in complete shock, something he was certain of was…”I wanna…I wanna be involved. If we’re in this, we’re in this together.”

You nodded after a moment. It was nice to have some support and know you’re not alone in your fear.

Clint soon looked back to the stick before reaching over and taking your hand in his. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

You could see a small smile growing on his face, which mirrored itself on yours. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

A small laugh came from Clint’s lips before he pulled you closer into a hug, the pair of you looking at the double lines before he turned and looked to your stomach. You weren’t showing yet, but you would be soon.

Gently, Clint lay his hand over your stomach before you placed both of your hands over his.

“We can do this, right?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

You smiled. “Okay.”

It took a while to figure out how to tell people since they didn’t know you and Clint were together in the first place. But, one morning when Sam had woken up and found you in the kitchen, reading, whilst Clint cooked breakfast, he offered you a cup of coffee.

Usually, you’d never turn one down. And always had it at full strength.

Only, for the last couple of weeks, Sam hadn’t seen you with a coffee or even a beer on a Friday night. He also hadn’t seen you in the sparring ring for a while. Typically, you’d usually be against him or Clint and within seconds, you had them on the ground. That was a tactic neither of them could figure out.

“Are you on a cleanse or something?”

“Why?”

Clint looked over his shoulder to you, only to see your eyes focused on Sam.

“Because you haven’t been drinking coffee or any kind of alcohol or caffeine.” Sam said before letting out a chuckle to himself as he poured himself a coffee. “Either that or you’re pregnant.”

Silence settled over the room and the moment you and Clint locked eyes, having a telepathic

conversation between one another…Sam noticed.

Confusion was the first thing he felt. Why on earth would you and Clint look at one another like you had a secret?

“What? What is it?”

Clint tilted his head quickly. It was up to you.

You nodded and turned back to Sam.

“Actually…”

Sam put his coffee down and stepped back. “Wait, you’re…?”

“Pregnant.”

“Holy- Oh my - Holy shit.” Sam broke out in a smile before rounding the kitchen island and hugging you. “Holy shit, you’re actually- wow. Wait, who’s the-”

Then when Clint came behind you, laying a plate of food in front of you, and you looked at him, Sam took another step back. “Oh my God.”

“No-one else knows so, please, can you keep this to yourself for now?” You asked. “We’re still trying to figure out how to tell people.”

“I didn’t even know you two were, like, a thing.”

“Technically, we weren’t.”

“But you’re having a kid together?”

You nodded. “But, please, Sam, keep this to yourself for now.”

“Keep what to himself?” Bucky entered the kitchen.

“Nothing.” Sam answered walking back to his coffee.

Bucky, with narrowed eyes, made his way around the kitchen. His eyes barely left Sam. “Oh, come on, you can’t keep a secret to save your life.”

“I can.”

“Not with me. Took you all of five minutes to tell me that Jessica from accounting is having twins.” Bucky said before he saw a bead of sweat drip down the back of Sam’s neck as his eyes widened for a split second before looking at you. “Oh, my God. You’re pregnant.”

“How did you-”

“Told you. He can’t keep a secret from me. Also, you haven’t drunk a single ounce of coffee in, like, four weeks. So, it’s either that or you’re on a cleanse. And you would never give up coffee voluntarily.”

“Well, if you know everything, Einstein,” Sam turned to Bucky. “Who’s the dad?”

“Barton.”

You dropped your fork, finishing your mouthful before looking to Bucky with the expression of Oh, for God’s sake. How? Meanwhile, Sam seemed slightly offended and confused at the fact Bucky seemed to have the whole thing figured out.

“What? She’s wearing his shirt.”

You looked down and realised it was true. How had you not even noticed?

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. But, you should tell people soon or else they’re gonna figure it out. Also, you might want to add more ginger to your meals.” Bucky added. “It’ll help with the morning sickness.”

“How the hell do you know all of this?”

Bucky shrugged, sipping his own coffee. “I had to help a woman give birth in a small town in Germany. When I came back, I figured it was more likely to happen so I read a couple books. I can lend them to you, if you want.”

It was safe to say you, Clint and Sam were more confused over Bucky’s hidden history as a midwife than your and Clint’s relationship and baby.

“So, when’s your first scan?”

“Okay, this conversation’s too weird for me. Can we please change the subject?”

“Can we see the pictures when you do?” Sam asked. “I wanna see a picture of my nephew or niece. I call ‘favourite uncle’.”

“Who says you get it?”

“I do.” Sam told Bucky. “We all know Nat’s gonna have first dibs at Aunt. I call Uncle.”

“What about me? Or Steve?”

“Steve’s everyone’s Grandpa. He gets that title.”

Whilst the two idiots in front of you argued over the title of ‘favourite uncle’ before eventually coming to the decision that the kid will decide, Clint had come behind you, taking your empty plate from you.

“What do you say we make a run for it? Someone will find them and ask them what they’re arguing about. Let them tell the rest of the team.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Slipping yourself from the stand, you felt Clint take your hand in his before you both made a run for it out of the kitchen, down the hall and into Clint’s bedroom.

Miraculously, you both managed to shower and get dressed, packing a small bag before making a run for it and not being stopped or called by anyone.

Clint drove you both out of town for a couple of hours to a small town clinic. They were small enough to know that they were away from Shield’s radar as well as the Avengers. And, with barely any people in the waiting room, there were no people trying to report news over why you and Hawkeye were in a maternity ward.

The doctor called your name and you and Clint headed inside where you lay on the bed and began asking questions about your health and when you think you got pregnant before covering the lower half of your stomach in cold gel and began the ultrasound.

“One thing I will say is that you have to be careful. I understand the professions you two are in, but where you can, rest. Try not to lift anything heavy over your head as it can strain your lower back,” the doctor gave you both some more advice before they moved to find the baby’s heartbeat.

“See this, right here?” you and Clint looked at the monitor. “That’s your baby and this…” a small galloping sound from the speakers. “is your baby’s heartbeat.”

As one hand lay below your head, your other was in Clint’s hand. Swiftly, he brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckle as you both watched the monitor and listened to the sound of your baby’s heartbeat.

“Oh, my God.” It brought tears to both of your eyes.

“I’ll get you some pictures printed off.”

“Thank you, Doc.”

“Clint,” his eyes didn’t leave the monitor until you looked at him. “That’s our baby.”

“That’s our baby.” Clint smiled back before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips before laying his arm around you, both of you looking at the monitor.

The doctor handed you some paper towels to wipe the gel from your stomach before leaving the room for a moment to grab a couple of information pamphlets and other small things that would help you and Clint on your journey.

By the time you got back into the car, you and Clint simply looked at the photos you had been given. From the pile, Clint tore one away and placed it in his sun visor.

The rest of the day, you and Clint drove around the small town, taking in a couple of the sights, eating at their ‘Number One Diner’ before hitting a couple of smaller stores, buying a couple of baby things. Thankfully, anyone that you ran into didn’t seem to have a clue who you or Clint were. Either that, or they simply didn’t care. That made it a lot easier to buy baby clothes and books.

And, by the time the sun was setting over the horizon, you and Clint sat on the hood of his car, your laps covered by a checked blanket and a soda in your lap, Clint’s phone rang.

“Who is it?”

“Nat.”

The moment Clint answered, Natasha was already speaking.

“You’re having a baby and you left the members of Sesame Street to tell me?”

Clint turned to you, “They’ve blabbed.”

“Wow. Took longer than I thought.” You said, looking at your watch.

“Is she with you?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good, tell her I’m mad at her, too.”

“Nat said she’s mad at you.”

“She’s mad at you, too.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to find someone else to be this kid’s favourite Aunt.”

“Whoa, hey-”

“Guess we could ask Wanda?” you suggested. “Or maybe your Rookie?”

“Kate? Really?” Clint asked. “She is the closest in age to the kid. What about-”

“Hey, hey! Do not give my title away! I did not fight to save your life to have my title of favourite Aunt thrown to some Rookie.”

“You like Kate.”

“Besides the point.” Natasha brushed off. “That title stays with me.”

“What do you think? Should we let her?”

“Is she still mad at us?”

“I don’t think she can be if we give her the title.”

“Okay then,” you smiled before taking a sip of your soda. “You only get the title if you’re not mad at us.”

“Fine, hold on a sec,” in the background you heard Nat shout for Steve. “Rogers, be mad at Barton for me.”

“He threatened to take away your title?” you and Clint heard Steve laugh before the phone was passed to him.

“Maybe.”

“Hey Clint.” Steve said. “Congrats, man. We’re all really happy for the two of you.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.”

“Just a word of warning, though.” Steve began. “Tony’s already started clearing a space out in the compound for a nursery so if you two thought you’d be moving out, I don’t think Tony will let you leave.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“What is it?” you asked Clint.

“You know how we talked about finding a house?” you nodded. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“Tony?”

“Yep.”

You smiled with a small chuckle. “Figures.”

Steve hung up soon after that, leaving you and Clint in your own little world for a while to watch the stars and moon settle over the land.

Over the next couple of weeks, time was spent between telling Shield and HR about what was going on and getting ready for what was to come. Hill gave you both a grilling but, off the record, she was happy for the both of you. Fury had done the same thing, fully expecting an invite to the baby shower. You had also been assigned to desk duty and advising from over Skype.

Clint could see you were getting agitated so he pulled a couple strings to get you into teaching the new recruits. It wouldn’t be a job that would put you into danger and it would keep you busy just enough for you not to be completely bored.

The nights you spent by Clint’s side. Each night you’d both ready a couple of the parenting books you’d bought from the small town outside the city or what Bucky had gifted.

Neither of you had really talked about what your status was together. The nurses at the hospital had referred to Clint as your husband, something neither of you had corrected. Not that you had noticed initially.

Even the team had questioned it at certain points, but never when you were together.

So, as you sat beside one another, reading over the books that spoke about ‘mom’ and ‘dad’, Clint turned to you.

“What are we?”

“I don’t know.”

“Me either.”

“Are we even meant to be something?”

“Well, we’re co-parents, right?”

“Yeah.”

A silence settled over you both for a moment before you placed a hand on your belly and spoke before looking at Clint. “We can do this, right? Be parents together?”

“Of course we can.”

“Then why do I feel so out of my depth?” you asked.

Clint sat up, pulling you with him. “Hey, look at me. We can do this.”

“What if we screw up, Clint?”

Wiping away the small tears from your eyes, Clint gave you a smile. “Then it means we’re parents. They all screw up, right? But, if we can’t do something, we’ll just send the kid to one of their aunts or uncles. This kid has got a big family. At least we can give the jobs of Birds and the Bees to someone else.”

You laughed. “Like Nat?”

“I love her, but probably not.”

You laughed again, wiping away the tears from your eyes, your emotions coming back into check. “Yeah, probably not. We should keep Bucky off that list, too.”

“Agreed.” Clint nodded. “What about Pepper?”

“We should probably tag team her with someone. She’s a strong woman but this kid is half you, half me. If it’s not awkward to begin with, it will be eventually.”

“That’s true.”

You and Clint shared a laugh as he took your hands in his, keeping his eyes on you before he moved closer and kissed your lips. He brushed the hair from your face, your hand coming to his wrist. For a moment, he thought you were about to push him away, but instead you brought him closer.

The months passed with pain and pleasure.

The further you got into your pregnancy, the more the nights became restless and the pain spread across your body. However, the only thing that seemed to remain pleasurable was being able to make a start on the nursery and the fact that your morning sickness had worn off. But also, having Clint by your side, knowing you weren’t alone in your fear or excitement…that made it all a little easier.

Natasha, with the aid of Bucky and Sam - who she sent on errands to keep them out of her way - planned the baby shower where you and Clint found out the gender of your baby and learned that Fury, Clint, Sam (by default as he and Bucky flipped a coin for which gender they guessed), Wanda and Yelena were the only ones to guess correctly.

A baby girl.

The moment the pink powder released from the target as Clint shot a single arrow to its centre, everyone erupted in cheers and shouts of enjoyment.

Yelena and Sam rubbed their success in Kate and Bucky’s face, respectfully, whilst Hill handed Fury 20 bucks and Clint came to find you, hugging you tightly from behind and you looked with joy to the pink powder.

“We’re having a girl.”

“We’re having a girl,” you confirmed with a smile.

Eventually, your due date came…and passed.

You were already on maternity leave, so your days passed slower than usual. Clint would come in and check on you at lunch and on his breaks.

Your days were spent in uncomfortable pain, watching crappy movies and tv shows. Sometimes, someone from the team would come and sit with you and Sam and Bucky had taken a liking to Bake Off - it led to them sitting in the kitchen, baking sweet treats for you to try until you declared a winner.

But, one afternoon, sitting outside with a book resting on your pregnant belly, watching the trainees run their drills on the ground, Steve came and joined you outside.

“How are you doing, Momma?”

You smiled as Steve stepped from the sliding door and sat at the end of where your feet were propped up on the sofa.

“Eh,”

“That bad?”

You sighed, sitting up a little higher. “I love this kid, but I just want her out already. Come out, please.”

Steve chuckled as you held your belly and yelled in the hopes she’d hear you.

She just kicked back.

“As stubborn as her dad.”

“She’ll be here soon,” Steve smiled. “And you and Clint will have your hands full.”

“Can’t wait.” you said. “I like being busy. This,” you motioned around you, “I don’t like it.”

You and Steve sat and chatted for a while longer, mostly about the missions coming up and the books you had been reading. He’d leant you a couple which you had managed to finish in four days.

But then…

You hissed in pain, holding your belly.

“Whoa, you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, just uncomfortable.”

Then the pain came again. “Ow, okay, no. That hurt. Ow!”

Steve sat up quickly, helping you as carefully as he could. “Come on, you need to get to the hospital.”

“I guess she heard me.”

Steve laughed, and so did you - which only brought some more pain.

“Clint, I need to call him.”

“I’ll call him on the way to the hospital.”

“He’s on the other side of town-”

Steve helped you inside, “He’ll get there. I promise.”

Then Bucky and Sam came around the corner. “Hey, are you okay?”

“She’s going into labour. Do you know where Clint put your hospital bag?”

“Bedroom, under the bed.” you told Steve who then gave the instructions to Sam and Bucky.

“I’ll get the bag,” Sam shouted, running right before Bucky ran left.

“I’ll bring the car around.”

“Steve, I’m scared.”

“I know, but you’re gonna be okay.”

Steve gave you a kind smile that reassured you of his promise.

By the time you got downstairs, Sam and Bucky were rushing around like two headless chickens. Bucky hopped out of the driver’s seat and ran to the otherside, pulling the door open. Steve helped you inside before taking the keys from Bucky.

“One of you needs to go and pick Clint up. Buck, take the bike.”

“On it.”

“Sam, go and find Natasha.” Steve commanded. “Let her and the others know what’s happening.”

“Steve!”

“Okay, go.”

Steve jumped into the driver's seat before pulling out of the driveway and towards the hospital. On the way, he pressed a couple of buttons on the monitor inside the car, calling Clint.

“Clint, listen to me, Bucky’s on his way to you.” Steve explained.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m going into labour! Ow, crap.”

“Oh, shit.”

“We’re on our way to the hospital now, just meet us there.”

“Okay,”

In the background, you heard the roaring of Bucky’s motorbike. He had to have driven through multiple red lights.

“He’s here now. Honey? It’s gonna be okay.”

“Just get here, please. I’m not doing this without you. Argh, fuck.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Clint!” Bucky shouted.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” you replied. “Just get here.”

“Clint we’re pulling in now,”

“Okay, I’m on my way.”

“Barton!”

As you were rolled into the labour suite, Steve kept watch for Clint before he came barrelling around the corner, not fully aware of where he was going.

“Barton!”

Clint followed Steve’s voice in a circle until he finally spotted him and ran down the hall to your room.

“How is she? Is she okay? Is the baby okay? What did the nurses say? Is everything-”

Steve took Clint by his shoulders. “Everything’s okay. They’ve just broken her waters so she’ll be giving birth soon enough. I’ll keep the others out here.”

“Thanks, and thank you, Steve.”

“No need,” Steve smiled. “Now go to her.”

Clint gave a final smile before entering the room and rushing over to you. And you couldn’t have held him tighter.

“I’m scared, Clint.” you told him as the midwife came in and told you you were ready to give birth.

“I know, baby. So am I, but you’ve got this, okay? Hey, look at me.” you looked at him as he held onto your hand. “You’ve got this. I love you,”

“I love you, too.”

It was only now that you realised today, of all days, was the first time you’d both told one another the truth of your feelings towards each other.

Clint pressed a kiss to your lips. “Stay with me?”

He nodded. “Always.”

“Okay, dad, help her up.” the midwife called your name. “When I tell you to push, give me all the strength you can muster, okay?”

You hummed nervously. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you wanted her to stay inside, for a little while longer.

Clint held your hand the whole way through, pushing the stray hairs from your face and holding his arm across your back for support as you pushed and pushed and pushed until finally a cry rang out throughout the room.

“You did it, mom. A beautiful baby girl.”

“You hear that?” Clint looked at you, smiling as he pushed the last couple of hairs from your face. “You did it, momma. She’s here.”

“She’s here? Is she okay?”

Clint looked over to the nurses and midwives measuring, cleaning and weighing your baby girl. “Yeah, yeah. They’re just cleaning her off.”

Clint had tears in his eyes as he looked back at you, pressing a kiss to your head and your lips. “You did it.”

Moments later, you were handed your baby girl wrapped in the blanket you and Clint had bought her all the way back when you had your first scan.

Feeling her skin against yours, you felt your heart explode.

Clint didn’t leave either of your sides once, looking down to his baby girl and the love of his life.

“I love you, and I love her.”

“She’s so small.”

A few hours later, you and Clint were sitting in a clean hospital bed, your baby girl in his arms as she slept.

Wanda was the first to enter, Sam and Kate quickly followed behind before Bucky, Natasha and Steve followed suit.

“Hey, can we come in?”

“Yeah, come on in, guys.”

“Hey, honey, how you feeling?” Wanda asked you, walking over.

“Tired.”

“Can I see her?”

Clint carefully handed your daughter over to Wanda where Sam and Bucky stood around her. “She’s beautiful.” was the main repeated comment between the three of them. “And strong, too.”

“She gets that from her mom,” Clint smiled at you before looking towards Kate.

“I brought you a couple things,” Kate told both you and Clint. “Figured everyone will be thinking about the baby, they’ll forget about you - and you’d probably forget about yourselves. So, your usual from Benny’s.” You praised Kate as a saint as she handed you the familiar paper bag. “Plus, a bag filled with every post-birth thing you could possibly need. Wendy has a Nurse-friend who has had, like, a gazillion kids, so she knows all the tricks of the trade.”

You smiled, hugging Kate. “Thank you.”

“Oh, and, Clint,” Kate handed him. “This is more for the baby, but I figured you could hold onto it for her until she grows up.”

Inside was a kid’s bow and arrow with an old, small carving in the top.

K.B

And then underneath it,

E.B

“Figured it should be passed down to the next generation of Hawkeyes,”

Clint tried his best to keep his emotions in check as he smiled at the meaning of this gift.

The bow and arrow that had once belonged to Kate now belonged to his daughter and when she was old enough, she could learn to shoot just like her dad.

“Thank you, Kate. Really. This means…a lot.”

You rubbed your hand over his forearm before taking his hand in yours.

After an hour, and lots of pictures, everyone else headed home and you and Clint were left with you baby girl, fast asleep in the hospital cot.

“Our very own baby Hawkeye.” you smiled, leaning on Clint’s chest as his hand rested on the side of the cot, his eyes only leaving his daughter to look at you.

“I never thought I could be this scared and happy at the same time.”

“Ditto.”

“We can do this, right?” Clint asked you.

“She’s here now, we don’t have much of a choice.”

Clint chuckled and looked back at his daughter. “True. God, I can’t believe she’s here.”

“I know,” you smiled.

Clint kissed the top of your head, holding you closer before looking at you. “I love you.”

You looked up to him and nodded. “I love you, too.”

Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before leaning his head against yours.

“I know this is nearly 2 years, too late, but…do you want to get dinner with me tomorrow?”

You chuckled, smiling. “I’d love to.”

“Great, I’ll meet you here, 6 o’clock, Benny’s included? I’ll be the one sitting beside you.”

Laying your arm over his stomach and leaning in closer, still smiling, you replied; “I can’t wait.”

Smiling, you could hear the thrill come from Clint’s heart inside his chest before he placed another kiss on your head and you both kept your eyes on your daughter.

Your baby Hawkeye, Evelyn Natasha Barton.

237 notes · View notes

marvelgirl772 · 2 years

Text

Red Flags - Clint Barton | Part 2 |

Shortly after that phone call with Clint, you decided it was time to pull your shit together. You weren't going to let Clint win on this one. Sure, he had played you and broke your heart. But you couldn't go on like this forever. You had a life to live and a job to do. So, you decided were you going to make Clint pay for what he had done to you.

You took your time getting ready that morning making sure everything looked perfect including your outfit, hair, and makeup. Natasha had texted you that morning that they were heading towards Sokovia after learning that one of Hydra's largest research bases was there. You were not going to miss out on that.

You held your head up high as you strutted into the facility after almost a month of hiding away. You flashed a smile at the team who were seated around the meeting table talking.

"Y/N!" Thor grinned before walking over to hug you. "It is so good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too, Thor," you returned the hug before walking over to sit next to Natasha who stood up to hug you before you sat down.

Natasha looked at you up and down before raising her eyebrows with a smirk, "I think I like where this is going to go."

You looked at them, "What have I missed?"

"Good to have you back," Steve smiled.

Tony pulled the screen up, "There's a Hydra research base in Sokovia. The plan is to take it down, capture any leaders in there, learn what they're hiding, you know...the normal stuff."

"Easy enough," you nodded.

"Once Barton and Banner get here, we'll get going," Tony concluded.

Natasha looked over at you, "Come on, let's go get what we need."

You agreed and followed her to the armory in the compound. You put a belt on and grabbed a handgun to put in your holster. You grabbed another one to put in your boot before putting a knife in your other boot.

"How is everything going?" Natasha asked.

"I'm okay," you lied before sighing, "I'm trying to be okay."

"I'm glad you're here," Natasha smiled softly. "What are you planning on doing when you see him?"

"Ignore him," you explained.

"He won't like that," Natasha shared. "He misses you."

"He screwed up," you responded.

"I know. And...I don't know how he could do that to you," Natasha sighed. "He doesn't know you're coming today."

"It's a mission, of course, I'd be here," you stated.

"Well he asked me this morning and I covered for you," Natasha put a handgun in her own holster as you were examining rifles and grenades.

"I assume he's still with her," you muttered.

"Yeah," Natasha sighed. "I wouldn't tell anyone if you happened to miss a shot, Y/N."

You chuckled as you turned to face her, "Let's kick some ass."

"That's my girl," Natasha smirked before the two of you headed towards the jet ready to leave when needed.

A smile spread across your face when you spotted Bruce pacing outside the jet loading area. He looked up and returned your smile before approaching the two of you. He pulled you into a tight embrace as you hugged him back.

"Y/N, thank god you're here," Bruce sighed.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," you replied.

"Are you okay?" he asked as you two pulled away.

You nodded, "I will be once we take down this base."

Bruce smiled at you before the two of you entered the jet taking seats next to each other. Bruce was catching you up on his life when Clint decided to finally walk onto the jet. The two of you locked eyes and you hated the feeling he still gave you. You had to force yourself to look away from him and make yourself focus on Bruce. But it wasn't your lucky day because Clint thought it was a good idea to approach you.

"Y/N," Clint smiled at you.

"Yeah?" you responded, keeping your tone flat.

"How are you? I didn't think you were coming," he continued.

"I'm great. And I wouldn't miss work so I don't know why you thought that," you said while still not looking at him.

"Well, it's good to see you again. We'll have to catch up when this is all over," Clint said.

"Probably not," you responded before Clint walked over to Natasha.

He leaned over to speak to her in a hushed voice, "She won't even look at me."

"I can't blame her," Natasha replied.

"You're still on her side?" Clint asked.

"Yes," Natasha nodded, "I don't know how you can't see what you did wrong, Clint."

As the jet was heading off towards Sokovia, Steve went over the plan on how they were going to infiltrate and take down the Hydra base. Tony landed the jet on the outskirts of the Hydra base to try and surprise them.

You were standing at the end of the jet waiting for the back to open when Clint walked up beside you, "Nervous?"

"Never," you responded before walking forward as the back opened up.

Natasha and you sneaked around a few trees moving towards one of Hydra's tank trucks. You jumped into the truck catching their attention before grabbing the nearest Hydra soldier to slam their head against your knee. You threw them out of the truck as Natasha jumped on the opposite end of the truck, helping you take out the remainder of the Hydra soldiers.

"It's good to be back," you smiled at Natasha as she got in the driver's seat of the truck as Clint and Steve joined.

Tony flew ahead of the group as Banner transformed into the Hulk before following after. Thor swung his hammer before flying towards the Hydra base. And Natasha started driving the rest of them to try and keep up. You raised your rifle and started shooting at any Hydra soldiers without missing. Clint was on the other side with his bow. It wasn't long before the team emerged through the woods to where a majority of the Hydra soldiers were standing guard as more kept coming. Another tank truck drove up to try and shoot yours down, but you shot the soldier causing the truck to crash into a tree. Thor flew past you into one of the watchtowers to take out those soldiers.

"Like old times, huh?" Clint called out.

You didn't respond as you put your focus on killing any Hydra soldiers you could. Steve jumped out of the truck and took out one of the soldiers on a motorcycle before getting on it himself. Hulk ran out in front of the truck to knock out any soldiers blocking the path. Natasha shouted at the two of you to prepare to jump before the truck hit a ditch. Clint joined your side as you waited for Natasha to turn the truck before all three of you leaped out and started to fight on foot.

All of a sudden you hear Tony shout, "Shit!"

"Language!" Steve responded. "Jarvis, what's the view from upstairs?"

"The central building is protected by some kind of energy shield. Strucker's technology is well beyond any other Hydra base we've taken."

"Loki's scepter must be here. Strucker couldn't mount this defense without it. At long last," Thor stated.

"At long last is lasting a little long, boys," Natasha commented.

"I think we lost the element of surprise," Clint replied.

"Wait a second, is no one else going to deal with the fact that Cap just said 'language'?" Tony remarked.

"I know," Steve sighed, "Just slipped out."

You couldn't help but chuckle at that before throwing a grenade at one of the machine guns and watching it explode with the Hydra soldiers nearby. You pulled out your handgun and began to shoot at a few stragglers before you hear another voice you didn't recognize nearby. You turn around to watch before one of the machine guns sends a flare straight at Clint hitting him.

"Clint!" you shouted catching Natasha's attention too.

"We have an enhanced in the field," Steve reported.

"No shit!" you responded before shooting at the machine gun while Natasha ran towards Clint.

"Clint's hit!" Natasha informed them as she kneeled down next to Clint. "Somebody wants to help Y/N deal with that bunker?"

Hulk came running through and took out the entire thing while you continued to shoot at the soldiers, hitting all of them.

"Stark, we really need to get inside," Steve stated as you stood there observing Natasha and Clint.

"I'm closing in," Tony reported, "The drawbridge is down, people."

"Clint's hit pretty bad, guys. We're going to need evac," Natasha shared. Thor appeared as he carefully lifted up Clint to take him back to the jet. Natasha walked over to where you were standing, "You okay?"

You nodded, "Yeah. Will he be?"

"He should be fine," Natasha offered with a tight-lipped smile. "Let's take care of these bastards so we can check on him."

You agreed as you lifted up your guns and made sure that all of the Hydra soldiers out there were done fighting against you and submitted. Natasha reported to the team, "We're locked down out here."

"Then get to Banner. Time for a lullaby," Steve instructed.

"Go get him," you offered a smile at Natasha.

She returned it before going over to where Hulk was, "Go ahead towards the jet. We'll meet you."

You nodded before walking through the woods keeping your gun in hand until you reached the jet. You spotted Thor next to Clint on a gurney.

"Y/N, I'm glad you're here," Thor smiled at you.

You chuckled, "Why is that?"

"Where's the pain stuff?" Thor asked, trying to think of the correct terminology.

"Did you already get an IV in him?" you inquired before walking over to the medical station on the jet.

"No," Thor shook his head.

You sighed, "Clint, what's your pain level?"

"Just give me the damn morphine," he huffed.

You pulled gloves on before grabbing a bag of morphine and other supplies before walking over to Clint. You grabbed his arm before opening up the sterilizing pad while directing Thor to grab things to help clean out his wound until they landed. You grabbed hooked the morphine bag on the rolling hook before picking up the IV and holding Clint's arm.

"Ready? One...two...three," you said before putting the IV in. You moved to connect it with the bag of morphine so it could start pumping into Clint. "Does that feel alright?"

"Yeah," Clint nodded before looking over at you, "Thank you, Y/N."

Thor returned and you cut away more of his shirt that wasn't sticking to the burn on his side. The others arrived on the jet as you were pouring alcohol on the wound to help prevent infection. Tony got in the pilot seat before taking off. Bruce went and put his headphones on to help soothe him. Natasha sat back and observed you working on Clint.

"How'd you get so good at that?" Steve inquired as he walked by to check on Clint.

"I wanted to be a nurse," you admitted, "But then shit happened and here I am."

"A nurse," Steve smiled at you.

"We all would've been something different if we had the choice," you looked at him while taking the gloves off. "Like if you weren't frozen, you probably wouldn't be here. If Tony wasn't taken by terrorists, he probably wouldn't have become Iron Man. And if I hadn't been through what I have been, I wouldn't have become a hitman turned Avenger."

"Noted," Steve nodded before starting to walk away, "If I need help, I request Y/N to be the one to work on me."

You rolled your eyes before checking Clint's pulse and the bag of morphine, "Do you need anything else?"

Clint shook his head, "No."

"Then rest," you offered.

"Hey Banner, Dr. Cho is on her way in from Seoul. Is it okay if she sets up in your lab?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, she knows her way around," Bruce nodded.

"Thanks!" Tony responded before speaking to Jarvis, "Tell her to set up everything. Barton's going to need the full treatment."

You moved to walk away from the gurney, but Clint reached out to grab your wrist. You sighed and pulled your arm away before walking over to sit down, not wanting to be near Clint anymore.

Once the jet landed, Dr. Cho's team came in to take Clint in for treatment and Natasha went with them. Bruce tried to talk you into staying, but you returned to your own apartment. Tony made you promise that you'd be at the celebration party in a few days, he stated you needed it. And maybe he was right.

Natasha came over to your apartment that afternoon as a means to make sure you were going to the party. But you were planning on attending since it was an excuse to drink and talk to new people to get your mind off of Clint. You pulled your dress on after finishing up your hair and makeup.

A car waited for you outside your apartment complex from the compound. It took both Natasha and you back to the compound for the party.

"She's not supposed to be here, is she?" you asked Natasha as you got into the elevator to go to the top floor.

Natasha looked over at you, "No. He has been asking for you."

"I don't know why?" you said before exiting the elevator to descend down the stairs into the balcony where the party was being held.

"Looks like he's already spotted you," Natasha stated.

"This is going to be a long night," you commented as the two of you stood at the bottom of the stairs, "I need a drink."

"Is it okay if I go check in on Banner?" Natasha asked.

You smiled at her, "Of course. I'll catch up with you two in a bit."

"Thanks," Natasha smiled before walking away as you headed towards the bar.

You leaned across the bar and ordered a drink when someone came up next to you and said, "Make that two of them."

You didn't even have to look to see who it was, "What do you want?"

"To thank you properly," Clint said.

"No need to thank me. We're a team, it's what we do," you looked over at him.

"But you didn't have to," Clint went on. "Where did you go afterward anyway?"

"Home," you answered.

Clint sighed, "Look Y/N, I'm sorry things ended the way they did."

"It's probably better this way," you stated, "We can focus on work more."

Clint turned to face you fully, "I don't agree with that."

"Well you've already made your choice," you grabbed your drink.

"That doesn't mean I don't miss you," Clint said, "You were one of my best friends, Y/N, because I screwed it all up."

"I don't know if I'm ready to resume to that just yet," you responded.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Clint asked.

"I..I don't know," you admitted honestly while staring down at the bar.

"Well, I hope it's not too long," Clint continued.

"We'll see," you nodded before excusing yourself to get out of that conversation and to get far from Clint. But Clint stood there watching you walk away wishing you would stay. He had been questioning his relationship with Laura ever since you found it. He would rather have you around even as a friend, over dating Laura. But he couldn't bring himself to admit he was wrong about it all. But he wished that he hadn't ruined what the two of you had because even if he didn't act like it, it was all real to him too.

Clint's blood boils watching you sitting closely to Thor laughing together. He didn't know how he was going to fix things between the two of you, but he knew he had to find a way to make it right.

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