#Hawkeye Fanfiction

[unholyhelbig]

Would love some Kate Bishop angst

Title: Past Tense

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4027

Summary: Kate Bishop returns to her hometown unexpectedly following some bad news. She's shocked when she runs into you and struggles to grapple with her past choices.

Warnings: Funerals, hurt/comfort, drinking, work injury/ burns, spelling mistakes and grammar issues (I'm sure)

[A/n: Hello! Just a little disclaimer, this is probably going to be the last thing I can publish for the rest of the month. I've got a massive work project, I move this coming weekend, and it's my birthday at the end of the month so my time is quite limited. But things will pick up again next month]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Day had barely broken over the horizon, but the world around you was impossible to ignore. There had been snow the night before, something that everyone believed was too cold to be possible. A thin layer of ice had encrusted each car before the soft, powdery type had built up on windshields and culminated under tires.

Large, wet flakes swirled around you and despite the gloves that clung to your skin, they didn’t do much for the numbness in your fingers as you fumbled with the keys to the coffee shop. Moisture had wicked through the fabric, and you hastily took them off before flicking on the house lights.

It was just past 5am and the usual crowd of early risers were soon to arrive. You made quick work of starting all the machines, the cooling cases and the manual grinder. Your baker had been in earlier, filling the displays with various muffins, baked goods, and sweets. A smooth cinnamon scent filled the air and warmed you all over.

“Son of a bitch!” the muffled exclamation formed a smile against your lips.

MJ was bundled up in a sweatshirt, a flannel, and a heavy winter coat over that. Her boots were caked in dry snow. There was a deep red blush against her nose and her cheeks that accompanied her scowl.

“Language, there are children present.”

“We’re the same age!” Peter protested as he pulled himself through the back door. He was dressed in less layers but sported the same winter complexion. He shook the large flakes of snow from his sweater, mumbling “Son of a bitch.”

It was cold enough to warrant you closing the shop. Most of the schools and the businesses in town had called for a snow day, something that didn’t happen often in Connecticut. Frigid temperatures were expected. Below freezing was a way of life and the world didn’t stop craving warm coffee to thaw them out.

This fact was proven when you flipped the open sign and the typical crowd of tired eyes started to line up at the counter. Peter typically had too much energy, so MJ took up the register while her counterpart flitted around and filled the orders. Most were to-go.

You’d known these people for years. They’d come in with a habit that was unmatched by the weather and the any other obstacles thrown at them. Before you opened up ‘The Grindhouse’ you’d gone to high school with them.

Through all the proms, and the homecomings, and the house parties that left you vomiting in the yard amongst their parents’ flowerbeds. Since then, you’d grown up and couldn’t stomach more than a few shots or two glasses of wine, tops.

They’d grown up too, those who had stuck around town. They had families and businesses much like yours. You had homeroom with the accountant that had helped you hedge your money in the correct places, and you made the same bacon, egg, and cheese English muffin for the star football player that blew out his knee senior year.

“Welcome to Grindhouse,” you said distractedly at the sound of the bell above the door, working on clearing the fallen grounds from under the espresso machine. The rag was damp and the floor was already coated in little brown specs that needed to be swept up during a lull.

“What can I get started for you?” MJ asked in her usual cadence.

“Just a plain black coffee, please.”

Your body froze at the sound of the voice, hair falling into the gaze that you refused to lift. There was a strange mix of emotions in the pit of your stomach. That voice, with it’s familiar rasp was one you hadn’t heard for years. Nearly a decade. But it couldn’t be her, could it?

She’d left for New York right after high school. The last you heard, she’d become a doctor. An unrivaled cardiothoracic surgeon that flitted around the world wherever she was needed. There was no reason for her to be back in this small, freezing, end-of-the-earth town.

“That’ll be 2.25, we have cream and sugar on the far wall, but if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you.”

It was her. It was most definitely her. There was a crispness to her voice that you’d recognize anywhere. The last you remembered; it was whispered with a quickness that rivaled her hands. Her hands were everywhere. They were warm and calloused and gentle.

There was a sudden bubbling heat against the side of your hand. You hissed through your teeth and pulled back from the espresso machine. There was a large bubbling welt on your skin and a string of curses ready at your lips.

“Jesus, y/n are you alright?” Peter was at your side in a moment with a wet, clean cloth that he had run under cold water. “Do you need the burn kit?”

“No, no. I’ll be alright. Thanks Pete”

He was so attentive and clocked you with a worried stare but you reassured him with the squeeze of his shoulder with your good hand. If you were going to fly under the radar before, it would be impossible now.

You glanced over the counter, pressing the cloth even closer. Your suspicions had been confirmed by the tepid gray stare that met yours. Shock simmered behind Kate Bishops gaze, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand.

Suddenly, you felt dizzy. She looked a bit older in the face, more experienced. There was life there, a form of living that had lowered her shoulders and sealed her lips. The Kate you knew was a bumbling mess- but med school had effectively changed that.

“y/n,” She regarded you.

“Hi, Katie.”

That lopsided, sloppy grin was still the same. It reached her eyes and brightened them. You cradled your hand and reveled in the silence. Peter and MJ had frozen in place, flicking their eyes from you and then back to her.

“Want me to take a look at that hand?”

“What are you doing back in town?”

The two of you spoke at the same time and dissolved into nervous laughter. You shook your head. “I thought you were a surgeon?”

“I know how to treat a burn, y/n, don’t insult me.”

You often prided yourself on your strong will. If you had a weak one, it would have been impossible to build this coffee shop up from the rubble that it once was. Kate Bishop, Doctor Kate Bishop, had a way of melting your resolve.

Peter shoved the small plastic first aide kit into your hands and shoved you forward. There was no choice to hide your stumble other than a confident stride towards her. She led you to one of the tables that spanned the windows at the storefront. They were lined with frost, a biting cold fighting to get its way in.

Kate had about a half-inch on you and radiated a type of warmth that was unmatched. When she grabbed your sleeve and dragged you to a sitting position right across from her, you were practically putty in her hands.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you.” She spoke without looking at you, unlatching the kit and pulling on the blue latex gloves with practiced ease. She couldn’t see the look of shock on your face. “This place is beautiful. I remember when it was that pizza place.”

“Ah, pizzapocalypse. Who would have thought that a combination shooting range and Italian restaurant would fail?”

Kate chuckled and tenderly pulled your hand closer. Her touch was barely a whisper against your skin, strands of black hair falling into her eyes. She examined the angry red mark. It had already started to blister. The espresso machine was kept at unbelievable levels of heat.

She grabbed one of the wrapped applicators, using her teeth to tear away at the wax paper. Kate squeezed a small dollop of burn cream onto the end. You hated the cloudy clearness of the substance.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you too, you know?”

“Have you? This might sting a little bit. Do you want a countdown?”

“No, just do it I’m a brave- Fuck!” She’d already started, and you gave her a vicious glare. She shrugged with that infuriatingly perfect grin of hers. “I thought you were in New Zealand for some medical internship.”

“New Hampshire, actually. Not as exciting, I know. It was going well, but Eleanor died.”

There was a tightness to her voice. Typically, you looked away from anything involving wound care. If you were to get a shot, you’d stare at a small spot on the wall that interested you. Drawing blood was more of the same, it was just harder to ignore the needle in your arm.

Kate was working hard at the bandage in her hand and finally pulled it apart. Despite the frustration etched into her features, she applied it with a certain level of care. You didn’t’ say anything. Your hand was throbbing uncomfortably.

“She was old, we knew it was coming and pancreatic cancer, well, it’s a bitch by the end and Susan asked me to fly in for the funeral. How could I say no to that? Flying in for my mothers funeral when I was too busy working to witness her descent?”

“Katie,” You breathed out.

“That should be healed up in a few days. Make sure you change out the bandage.”

You couldn’t��� get a word in edgewise before she started to shove the contents of the case back into their proper places. The chair made a horrible scraping sound that you felt in your teeth. Kate grasped her coffee, colder than it was a few moments ago.

“Thank you for… this. I’m sure it’s delicious.” She had her hand on the door. Her quickness was unmatched. Both in and out of the OR, from what you had read. But she paused, looking at you for a moment. “I’m proud of you, y/n. This place is great. Really.”

Kate had vanished into the whiteness of the blistering day. You watched her navigate the snow with ease. Eleanor had died. How could you live in such a small town and not have heard about the woman’s passing?

The Bishop family was always a private bunch, and with Kate moving right after high school graduation, you hadn’t any reason to go past those wrought iron gates. Kate’s older sister would stop by for a hot drink once every other month or so, but you saw her coming from a mile away and selfishly hid in the back.

Eleanor had died.

There was a softness to her that you remembered fondly, a memory of Kate and you as children in the heat of summer. You’d been stung by a wasp and cried and cried until Eleanor rushed into the yard and scooped you into her arms.

Much like Kate had just done with her soft ministrations, she fixed you right up by applying a mix of warm water and baking soda. An old family remedy, she said. The venom had stopped screaming and the tears eventually stopped for both you and Kate.

Eleanor was a kind, if not private, woman. One that you thought of daily when you clocked the photo of High School Graduation on the dusty bookshelves in your living room. Your own mother hadn’t attended, but Eleanor was right there. She was right there.

“Who’s the girl?” MJ drawled out, leaning heavily on her hands, a goofy look on her face. Peter was next to her, doing the same, both eyebrows raised.

“Kate… She” You picked up the plastic first aide kit. The two of you had a habit of not sitting still and it was better to move to replace the supplies then let them sit out here. Besides, a customer could walk in at any moment. “We were engaged.”

Peter shot up “What?”

“It was a long time ago, it’s not important.”

“You were engaged, I think that’s important. How old are you?”

“First, rude, second; old enough. And really, guys it’s not a big deal. Both of us moved on. Life happened.”

They exchanged a look that, in the past, had never meant anything good. MJ had her arms crossed over her chest and Peter leaned heavily on a broom he had grabbed, hugging it lose to his chest. You rolled your eyes, attempting to ignore them both was impossible in a place this retrospectively small.

“I don’t know, boss. The way she was looking at you… maybe neither of you really moved on.”

“I write your paychecks; you understand that right?” You turned to face them. “Kate and I are done. We have been for a long time. She made that very clear when she gave the ring back and I refuse to push the matter.”

It was collecting dust on your bookshelf next to the photo of your graduation. It was a small emerald, green box that you hadn’t opened since you resituated the diamond ring. It had been stupid to propose, a last-ditch effort to get Kate to stay. She’d said yes. And then she said no.

The baker’s old Subaru wouldn’t start because of the bitter cold. It sounded like an old wife’s tale that made you chuckle to yourself while reading the text that popped across your screen.

Before you had hired him for the long nights, you’d done the baking yourself and it wasn’t a horrible chore. You’d just have to down some caffeine and slam it out; trays filled with mini cakes, with quiches, donuts and cheese tarts. It was like a methodical science project with the bonus of eating the food that didn’t look edible.

It was midnight by the time you’d pulled the first couple trays from the large industrial oven and exhaustion was starting to bay its head. You weighed the option of going home and just spreading out the pastries in the case.

All thoughts of sleep left your mind when a rapid banging filled the store. The front glass doors were being tugged upon. And while you were more than willing to die in this coffee shop, being robbed was not the way you wanted to go. There was less than three hundred dollars in the register.

You grasped at the broom, your hands covered in flower and caked on the bandage that was applied earlier. Another round of bangs as you tried to stay low and reach for the cordless phone. There was a silhouette outlined by the gray white of the snow.

Doctor Kate Bishop.

She’d given up on her breaking and entering and pressed her forehead against the glass, her breath fogging it up. It was hard to tell, but you were sure her eyes were clenched shut. There was a brown paper bag in one hand that looked suspiciously like a large bottle of alcohol.

Your grip was tight on the broom, even as you felt confident, and a little sad, about opening the door. Kate fell forward and a blast of cold enveloped you. She made a small noise at the back of her throat, regaining her posture.

“Were you going to sweep me to death?” Kate asked, “I brought whiskey.”

“Here I thought you weren’t going to come back here with the way you ran out earlier, and now you arrive with gifts?”

It was a low blow, but she had shrugged her shoulders with her goofy grin and snow in her messy hair. “Come drink with me, just for a little bit in our old spot. Don’t make me play the dead mom card.”

Saying no to Kate had always been hard for you. It had been hard when you were children and she dared you to jump from high places, always stopping you by the collar of your shirt before either of you got hurt. And it was especially hard to say no to Kate in your teens when she would kiss hot trails against your throat, marking them with bruises. Not that you were rushing to deny her.

“Really?” You asked, “Aren’t we a little old to be caught sneaking booze in the gym?”

Both of you knew for a fact that the side doors leading into the school would always be open. There were no alarms, or flood lights, because it was a small town and nothing bad ever happens in a small town.

She jutted out her bottom lip into a pout “Y/n, my mom died.”

“Okay, alright. Let me lock up.”

Kate stayed quiet on the three-block walk to the school. It was shrouded in darkness, an inky black despite the swirling gray of the night sky. Your high school had been the largest in the county; two floors filled with classrooms. You’d stuck to the same ones and Kate was the life of the party wherever she went, the bright spot in an otherwise dingy room.

The bottle of alcohol dangled by her side as your footfalls crunched over ice and an ugly brown slush of snow. It felt normal, almost, walking with her. Being with her. Staying in town was a brave choice after being dumped and equivocally left at the alter. You had powered through the looks and the whispered accusations. But some part of you was relieved she’d chosen this interaction to take place in the middle of the night.

When you’d gotten to the double doors of the large gymnasium, Kate’s boot slipped on a particularly nasty spot of ice. Instinctively you grasped her arm and righted her. She thanked you silently before pushing into the warmth of the space. The motion censor lights flicked on and you squinted against them.

“They built a new one, you know? A gym. I think they still use this for craft fairs. Fundraisers. But all the big stuff is off site in this state-of-the-art center.”

Kate blew out a breath, shaking her head. “Remember when Tommy Shepard broke your nose with a basketball?”

“Yeah, I do. I also remember sneezing right after and spraying him in blood. Everyone else was grossed out except for you.”

Kate dropped onto the large eagle in the center of the floor. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, and the bottle was idling between them. You let out a small groan as you joined her. Neither of you had ever been bold enough to inebriate yourselves in the crest. Instead, you’d hide behind the fold-out bleachers that were pushed against the walls, but this would do.

“That stupid EMT wouldn’t let me get on the ambulance with you.” The seal on the bottle cracked viciously, much like your nose, as she unscrewed the cap.

“And I told you I didn’t need to go the hospital. I think I was a liability, though.”

Kate laughed, taking a deep gulp from the bottle. It hit the back of her throat and she hissed in response before thrusting the whiskey your way. You took a smaller sip, let it coat your tongue and burn your stomach.

The mood had stilled, and she took another swallow before setting the bottle between the both of you like a vice or a buffer. You couldn’t decide what.

“Eleanor had very specific instructions in her will. She… shit, she planned her whole funeral out before she died in her morbid meticulousness. She picked white lilies, and a beautiful black casket. She already had a plot of land picked out in her family plot. Music picked out. A fucking guest list.”

You fought the urge to reach out and comfort her. So, you grabbed the bottle instead and gulped down a bigger heaping than before. The amber liquid was dipping down behind the black wrapper.

“The only thing she didn’t do was write her eulogy. No, she left that up to me as one last fuck you because that’s how she operates. She didn’t’ ask Susan to write it, or my dad. She asked me because I’m the one that left home. I’m the one that left her.”

The worst thing you could do was agree with Kate Bishops dead mother. And you didn’t, really. You’d always been happy for Kate. This town was too small for her and the lives that she saved were plentiful. But some selfish part of you understood where Eleanor was coming from.

You were possibly the worst person she could go to with this issue and by the frown on her face, she knew it too. For the longest time, you were there for each other. And if Kate had called out of the blue and asked you to go to New Zealand or New Hampshire, or whatever; you would go.

She’d do the same, you were sure. One call, one letter and she’d be here. But neither of you were brave enough to reach out and heal the wound that festered between you. You pulled your knees up to your chest, rested your chin against them with a quiet breath.

“Maybe you don’t need to write anything. Maybe you can just… say how you feel.”

“Yes, because that has worked out so well for me in the past.”

“Fair point, but she was your mother, not a fling. Even if you don’t have a script planned out, it’s worth just feeling the moment. No matter how shitty that moment is.”

Kate inhaled and held that breath in her chest for a few seconds before pushing it out. Her eyes searched you in a probing way that made your skin prickle. Blush started to claw its way up your throat. You’d blame that on the alcohol, you always were a light weight and it showed in your complexion.

“Is that what you think you were?” her voice was a low and raspy whisper “a fling?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You never say anything you don’t mean. All you’ve ever done is calculated and well thought out. You’ve always had a plan.” She looked down at the frayed edges of her jeans, playing with the strings to avoid looking at you. “You were my everything.”  

Your voice was a quiet murmur. “Katie,”

She reached out, her warm hand wrapped around your wrist in a tender display of affection. Her eyes met yours and it was the longest the two of you had stared at one another without breaking eye contact. Your stomach was a pit of nerves and heat.

“That scared me when we were young. It fucking scared me out of my mind how content I was with you. I was ready to risk everything, to settle down in a small house and wake up every single morning next to you.” She drew in a sharp and shuddering breath “But we were young, and I hadn’t lived life and that scared me even more.”

“I know, Kate, I know. I shouldn’t have proposed, and I certainly shouldn’t have put either of us in that position. You were right to turn me down. You were right to move on and fight for the future that you deserve.”

Kate sniffed, using her free hand to wipe away the few crystalline tears that dripped across her cheeks. You found yourself pulling her close, letting her sob into the crook of your neck as you held her, your arm wrapped around her center to stabilize her.

Things were boiling over and the tension that had been weighing on her shoulders since she’d first shown up in town started to slowly drain. She missed her mother, she missed you, and that wasn’t something you were willing to process on the crest of the school’s gymnasium.

Kate’s fingers were curled into the fabric of your shirt, and eventually, she settled. Her nose was cold against your pulse point and the bottle of whiskey had been long forgotten. As self-centered as it was, you wished you could hold her forever. Feel her touch on yours for something other than a reminisced sadness.

“If you asked again,” Kate mumbled into the collar of your shirt “If you asked me again, I would say yes.”

“I know, Katie. I know.”

#Kate Bishop #Kate Bishop x reader #Kate Bishop x y/n #Kate Bishop x you #Kate bishop x reader #Hawkeye #Hawkeye fanfiction #Marvel #Marvel Fanfiction #hurt/comfort #Ask #I promise Kate Bishop actually has a sister #Susan Bishop

[hard-core-super-star]

Random thought popped into my head but it's about vampire Kate x reader. What if reader was a witch of some sort who got her heart broken because Kate is an fboy and became terrified and left when she realized how much she loved the reader but came crawling back a year later because she needed reader's witchy help and they ended up casually flirting because they clearly still have feelings for each other and stuff

ain't that the kicker [K.Bishop]

pairing: vampire!kate x reader

summary: the morning after your late-night encounter with kate doesn't go quite as planned...and neither does the day after that or the day after that. [aka you and kate have way more issues than you thought]

warnings: none, i think?; did somebody order angst?; so much tension, you need more than one knife; i rob you of a longer wanda scene; cliffhanger ending because this got too long; weird vampire powers that are badly explained; very long dream sequences; a surprising lack of actual vampire stuff [i badly need to rewatch first kill]; idiots in love but emphasis on the idiots!

wodcount: 3.2k

a/n: hey everyone, my motivation was pretty dead for a while but, unsurprisingly, vampire kate brought it back! and before you all freak out, YES! THERE WILL BE ANOTHER PART! and maybe it'll be less sad and more spicy, who knows? anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me and my constant disappearing act. my second year at university is wrapping up so hopefully you’ll see more of me this summer ;) that's all i have to say, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

Saying going home with Kate Bishop had been a bad idea would be a massive understatement.

You knew being alone with the heir of Bishop Security would come with problems but the problems all seemed relatively small compared to the continuous waves of pleasure you had been under all night.

To be fair, though, you never expected a grainy picture of you on Kate's lap to be part of that list of problems. You had expected some awkwardness from the charming brunette, the usual "we can't do this again" speech while actively making out in some random storage closet, maybe even some weird looks from your co-workers to further complicate things.

Your original plan had featured everything except you going viral overnight and waking up to the biggest PR disaster to ever hit Bishop Security. (Which is saying a lot considering the many one-night stand scandals Kate always finds herself wrapped up in)

You had so many ideas of what the morning after would be like but none of them included you waking up to an empty bed and a large pit in your stomach that tells you you fucked up big time.

Maybe it had been your fault, maybe you had been too naive for thinking you could really have it all.

Or maybe Kate was right. Maybe she had a longer list of enemies than you had been willing to entertain.

There were far too many “maybe’s” in your mind, an overwhelming amount of notifications on your phone, and you had no idea where Kate had gone.

You’re not sure how long you spend scrolling through Twitter and avoiding all the texts filled with unanswerable questions from your co-workers but eventually, you manage to regain control of yourself and get up from the archer’s ridiculously comfortable bed. You do your best to ignore how shaky your legs are as you get dressed, your mind unfortunately drifting to the night before.

You manage to find your way to the kitchen where there's a full spread of, slightly burnt, breakfast waiting for you. Your heart swells as you read the messy handwriting on the post-it note next to the biggest stack of pancakes you’ve ever seen.

Morning, sunshine. I didn’t know what you were in the mood for so I made a bit of everything. Eat as much as you can, you’ll need a lot of food and water to recover from last night ;) - Kate

It’s impossible to stop the wave of relief that crashes into you after reading that.

As impossible as it feels, you allow yourself to believe things will be fine. That Kate will stick by your side after opening up to you about her supernatural abilities.

But the fantasy doesn’t last long.

You’re halfway through your breakfast when you hear the front door slam shut with so much force you briefly wonder if the hinges came off. It takes no more than fifteen seconds for the archer to appear in front of you, her shoulders tense and an unreadable storm in her eyes.

Her posture already tells you the answer to the question forming on your lips but you ask anyway. “Everything okay?”

She seems almost startled by the sound of your voice as if hearing you makes you real.

It makes the mess you’re both in real.

“No,” she sighs. “I have some shitty news.”

“Shittier than being called a slut by all of New York?” You reply, unable to stop the urge to make her smile.

Kate doesn’t fully smile but she does let out a small chuckle, her shoulders dropping into a less tense position as the sound escapes her. “Yeah…shittier than that.”

You should’ve known where the conversation was headed. Should’ve realized there was no way you’d be able to have it all. No way for you to continue with your life as if nothing had happened.

Maybe you are too naive because you truly didn’t see her next sentence coming.

“y/n…I have to fire you and we...we can’t do this again. This has to be goodbye.”

Everything crashes into you at once.

The realization of what you’ve actually done, the stupid ease with which Kate is cutting you out of her life, the betrayal of her practically kicking you out onto the streets. You’re not an idiot, you know there’s no way you’ll be able to keep your apartment, your humble yet expensive life in New York, without your job.

Without her.

“You…you’re serious? You’re throwing me out just like that?”

“It’s not easy for me either-”

“It looks pretty damn easy, Kate.” You scoff.

“You’re not the one who spent her whole morning getting chewed out by her mom.” Her words come out like an afterthought, like she knows just how badly she’ll fuck up if you hear the annoyance behind them.

Unfortunately for her, you hear her loud and clear.

“Oh, come on. That’s your excuse? You had one bad conversation with your mom and suddenly I don’t mean anything?”

She doesn’t reply and her silence only serves to stoke the flames of fury and resentment rising within your chest.

“Do you know how many death threats I’ve gotten in the last hour? How many coworkers have tried to blackmail me already? Do you understand just how much of my life this has ruined? And you have the audacity to act like you have it hard?”

“Don’t pretend like you know anything about my life,” she spits back. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Katherine. If I didn’t know you, if you didn’t care, why the hell did you tell me your dirty little secret?”

She blinks, taken aback by the hard-hitting truth you throw her way.

If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t notice the way she nervously fidgets with her fingers or the way she bites down on her lower lip while she tries to come up with something to say. If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t know she’s hurting underneath.

You do know her, though, but knowing her isn’t enough if she’s not willing to let you stay.

So, because you do know her…you walk away.

It feels like giving up in the most infuriating of ways but it’s the only thing you can do. If Kate’s mind is made up, there’s no amount of reason that will get her to change. That’s another thing about her you’ve learned the hard way.

So you swallow your pride and walk away with no plan, no job, no way of supporting yourself. If you were a more spiteful person, you would have applied for a job at Stark Industries but instead, you do the second hardest thing you’ve ever done.

You restart.

It’s a bitter defeat and still, you pack up your things and pay an old friend a visit.

You had left Wanda behind after the Westview fiasco but she’s the only person you can think of running to after your entire life went up in flames. All it takes is one quick spell and the realization that a life without dark magic isn’t one you can live before you’re standing on the porch of her small cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Saying she’s disappointed would be an understatement, especially since she explicitly warned you not to fall in love with Kate Bishop. It’s hard to believe the witch knew about Kate’s vampire secret but you also wouldn’t be surprised if she knew what awaited you the second you left for New York.

Unfortunately, you had to learn things the hard way.

You could write multiple books on everything you’ve learned the hard way.

At the top of that list, though, is the true extent of a certain archer’s vampire powers.

It takes less than a month for Kate to reach you again…through your dreams. Dreams that feel far too real and leave you a tad bit more breathless than you’ll ever be willing to admit.

The first time it happens, you assume it’s one of Wanda’s new tricks, maybe it’s her way of helping you cope with what (or rather who) you’ve left behind. You think it’s weird but maybe a tad bit sweet and you make a mental note to ask her about it in the morning.

It’s not until you realize that you’re actively thinking that you start to worry.

To make matters worse, you’re inside Kate’s apartment…and she quite literally stumbles out of her bedroom to see you standing in the middle of her living room.

“Oh, shit.” She groans.

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of her voice. You know you’re just dreaming and yet it all feels so real. It’s like you can feel her eyes on you, hear the way your heart won’t stop pounding in your ears.

Your confusion must be written all over your face because she answers your question before you can even ask it.

“Yes, you are dreaming but this isn’t like a normal dream.”

“What the fuck happened to you not being a mind reader?” You blurt out.

You wait for that stupid smirk of hers to appear, maybe with a half-assed shrug and a semi-charming joke, but it never comes. “My dream, my rules, I guess.”

“That still doesn’t explain what’s going on.”

A beat of silence goes by before she sort of gives you an answer. “I can explain but you might hate me afterwards.”

The look in her eyes says more than you can possibly handle right now. You’ve never known Kate to be particularly insecure but all you can see in those blue depths is fear and insecurity. Fear that your feelings for her have changed, that you already hate her and never want to hear from her again.

Too bad you’ve never been good at lying.

“Try me.”

The corners of her mouth quirk up into a small smile. “Long story short, we’re bonded. That’s why we’re in each other’s dreams.”

There’s a bigger question to be asked but you’re still a little freaked out by how real this all feels. By how intense your feelings for her still are.

“But this isn’t like a normal dream, is it?”

“Nope, perks of having vampire powers.”

“So, you can do everything except read minds?” You can’t help but tease her like all the times before. “That sucks.”

“Shut up,” she says with an over-dramatic roll of her eyes.

A calm silence falls over both of you and you hate how normal it feels. How just like that, you forget your anger and the betrayal you’ve felt every minute since the day you left New York in favor of falling for her stupidly enchanting self all over again.

It doesn’t help that with every second, the distance between you gets smaller and smaller.

You don’t know who takes the first step, all you know is you blink and suddenly she’s standing right in front of you, those soft blue eyes of hers searching for the truth you can’t hide.

“y/n,” she murmurs, her hand tentatively reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t what you wanted.”

She’s technically not wrong, leaving because of her incapability to deal with her feelings was the last thing you wanted, but it’s not like you had any other choice.

She didn’t give you any other choice.

And now she’s here, staring at you with that wounded puppy look she so effortlessly embodies.

“I wanted you,” you whisper in response. “When are you going to get that through your thick skull?”

She chuckles, the sound warm but nervous. Her hand moves to cup your face and her touch is so soft, it leaves you breathless for a moment. “Never, I’m too stubborn for that, remember?”

You can’t help but tease her as the atmosphere shifts into something more affectionate than you’d like. “How could I forget? It’s your worst trait.”

“Ouch. Is that how you treat your favorite vampire?”

“Aw, poor little vampire baby.”

You wait for her to make one of her usual jokes but she doesn’t.

Instead, her eyes drift down to your lips and your mind instantly goes blank.

There’s an endless list of reasons why you shouldn’t do it. Just because it’s a dream doesn’t mean it isn’t a bad idea. Then again…when has that ever stopped you from being with Kate Bishop?

It’s subtle but you lean forward just enough to give her the invitation she’s too much of a gentleman to ask for. Her eyes widen the slightest bit before she meets you in the middle, the space between your lips becoming nonexistent in the span of a few seconds.

You try your hardest to hold on to your self control, to not seem as desperate as you’ve felt since that first night, but it’s useless. Your hands grip the front of her shirt in an attempt to pull her closer despite how insane everything is.

You’re simply dreaming and yet you can feel every touch, every breath, every desperate effort to make your desires a reality. You would feel embarrassed if Kate wasn’t acting the same way.

Her lips leave yours only to trail down to your neck, her fangs instantly teasing the sensitive skin she finds. The anticipation builds inside your chest as she toys with you and it’s all you can do not to beg for more.

“Kate.” Her name leaves your lips in the form of a whisper that disappears just as fast as it formed.

All you hear is her sharp intake of breath before it all fades to black.

Your eyes snap open and you’re greeted with the absolute silence you’re starting to associate with Wanda’s cabin. All you can do is lay there in the darkness, your heart pounding in your ears while your fingers trace the spot Kate’s lips had just been on.

It had all felt so real and now you’re all alone again. It shouldn’t be surprising at this point and yet you still hold on to the hope Kate will come looking for you.

But she doesn’t.

All she does is haunt your dreams in the most literal way possible. She doesn’t come to find you and fix your many, many issues, instead, she simply appears in your dreams long enough to send your mind reeling without offering any solutions.

You wish you could hate her for doing this to you but you can’t.

You love her.

Worse than that, you love her more and more each night. Even though it’s not nearly enough to heal any of your wounds, and maybe it only serves to hurt you more, it’s definitely addicting.

Wanda offers to help you sever the connection between you and Kate, something about a spell she read in the Darkhold being her only assurance that she knows what she’s doing. You don’t fully trust her on that but you do consider the option for longer than you want to admit.

You reason with yourself that there are much worse things to deal with on a daily basis than highly realistic dreams, though. That being bonded to a vampire isn't the worst thing in the world.

And maybe that would be true…if the vampire in question wasn't Kate Bishop.

You don't know what possesses you to ask but the question slips out in the middle of another midnight rendezvous. It’s been a little over two month since you moved away from New York, a little over two months since you've shared these weird dreams with Kate, when you finally ask.

“What exactly did you do for us to be bonded to each other?”

The question must catch her off guard given the way her eyes widen in panic. “What?”

“You said these weird dreams happen because we’re bonded or something but you never explained how that happened.” You watch the brunette from your spot on the couch and impatiently wait for a response, for something that will help you make sense of everything.

She swallows back her nervousness but gives herself away due to the way she fidgets with the rings on her hand. “Oh, yeah, that…it’s because I bit you that night in my apartment…remember?”

Her awkwardness would be endearing if her response wasn't so damn suspicious.

“Yeah but you're a vampire, biting people is kind of your thing. You're not automatically bonded to every person you bite, right?”

A beat of silence passes before she answers, her voice shaking the slightest bit. “No that…that only happens when there are…certain feelings involved.”

It takes a second for her answer to click in your brain. For her sudden nervousness to hold real meaning.

The answer hits you like a train and it makes your blood boil like nothing else.

“Kate, tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means. Tell me you didn't fire me because you were too afraid of having feelings for me.”

“y/n-”

“For fuck’s sake, Kate!”

The sudden frustration in your voice makes her jump, hundreds of meaningless explanations forming on the tip of her tongue.

You don't hear a word she says.

You can't hear anything besides the pounding in your heart and the devastation that threatens to swallow you whole.

You always knew being with Kate would be impossible but this was something else entirely. This wasn't a lack of feelings between you two, this was too many feelings and too many miles of distance and not one ounce of regret from her.

You're not sure when you stood up from your spot or when she approached you, you simply feel her hand on your waist and the unmistakable sound of her breathing.

“y/n,” she tries again. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m so tired of hearing you say that.”

“I know.”

The last thing you feel is her lips on the back of your neck before you wake up. Alone. Again.

Wanda must catch on to your desperation because she brings up the idea of cutting your connection with Kate that same morning.

“It’ll only be temporary,” she assures you. “No offense but you need sleep more than you need Kate Bishop.”

“I’m a little offended,” you grumble in response.

Despite your reservations, and the voice in the back of your head that tells you running away again is a bad idea, you go along with her plan. She's right, after all. You definitely need some time away from Kate Bishop and her never-ending messes.

The spell is simpler than you expect and it, thankfully, requires pretty much no effort on your part and no weird liquids.

It does also bring the best sleep you’ve had in months so you can’t complain…even when you wake up missing the sound of the archer’s voice.

You still miss her every day and you're sure that won't change any time soon but you welcome the peace with open arms.

Wanda spends her time teaching you random spells while you help her build a nice flower garden in the backyard. It's weird but…comforting.

You could even get used to life out here someday.

At least, that's what you keep telling yourself as the weeks go by.

Until Kate shows up unannounced and flips your world upside down again with those same soft eyes you fell on love with all those months ago.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #kate bishop fic #kate bishop fanfiction #vampire kate bishop #kate bishop #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #wlw #wlw fic #writing

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

appreciation

Clint Barton x F!Reader

Prompt: “is that my shirt?”

Summary: you borrow one of clint's shirts after a fight leaves yours ruined, and he can't help but show you just how much he likes seeing you wear it.

Warnings: smut, mdni, cock-warming, oral sex (female receiving), fluff.

Word Count: 1,616

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“You know, if SHIELD wants us to keep doing all these recon missions in plain clothes, you’ve either got to stop blowing our cover, or they’ve got to start reimbursing me for clothes,” you called out drily as you stepped out of the bathroom, flinging your ruined shirt away in disdain. An unplanned brawl had ended with your shirt torn and your jeans stained, and you’d forgone reporting in in person to make a pitstop at your partner’s apartment. He’d drawn the short straw to call it in, and you’d made liberal use of his shower while he patched himself up.

“I swear I didn’t do it on purpose,” Clint called back from the other room. “There were…”

“Honey, if you say ‘extenuating circumstances’, I’m gonna kick your ass.” you replied, grabbing a shirt out of a drawer and slipping it on over your head. Pain thrummed through your shoulder, and you grimaced but otherwise ignored it. The shirt dampened with the wet hair clinging to your neck, the hem of it skirting along the top of your thighs indecently.

“Safe to say I wasn’t, seeing as I can’t even pronounce…” Clint trailed off as he entered, a couple of fresh bandages taped over his ribs. His phone was still in his hand, the screen dark. “Is that my shirt?”

You looked down at yourself for a brief moment, nodding. “Uh, yeah? I don’t have any clothes here, and I didn’t think you’d—”

“That is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You couldn’t help a disbelieving scoff. “Seriously? I—”

The phone fell from Clint’s hand, bouncing on the carpet. He closed the distance between you, took hold of your waist and pulled you into a kiss. His hands bunched in the shirt over your waist, tugging the fabric taught against the small of your back and urging you closer to him. You whined against his lips, your own hands moving to clutch at his biceps. When you parted, Clint spoke a breath away from your lips, a surprising roughness in his voice that sent a thrill right down through the middle of you.

“Yes, seriously. Now stop arguing.”

You laughed as he pushed you gently back against the bedside table. It rattled as it hit the wall and Clint’s mouth met yours again. Wrapping your arms around his neck, your lips parted in a gasp as Clint’s mouth moved from yours to kiss the side of your throat. He lingered there teasingly; his breath hot against your neck as his fingertips trailed up the outside of your naked thighs.

Your fingers ran through his hair as he moved lower, kissing his way down over the skirt to the hem of it. You whimpered as he knelt in front of you urged your thighs apart. “Clint—”

He gave your thigh an open-mouthed kiss, his teeth teasing over the sensitive flesh as his hand journeyed up your other leg. Clint hesitated as he realized you hadn’t had the chance to put your underwear back on, sighing almost reverently. His breath made goosebumps rise on the inside of your thighs. You shivered.

“Fuck…”

“Oh, God, Clint…” you moaned as he buried his face between your legs, his tongue immediately finding your clit. You almost fell back against the bedside table, your hand grasping at the top of the bedhead to your left. Your other hand ran fingers through his hair, the answering ache in your shoulder worth the way he groaned into your cunt. His arms wrapped tightly around your thighs, grabbing at the flesh of them holding you in place under his tongue.

The edge of the wood bit into the back of your thighs, and Clint pushed them further apart. You obliged by sitting on the table, planting one foot on the mattress beside you. Clint rewarded you by sliding a finger into you, his eyes meetings yours from between your thighs.

Fuck, he was good at this. He seemed to truly relish it, and the feel of his bare shoulders pressing up against your thighs, forcing them to stay spread wide, made you shudder. You arched further into his touch with a moan as he reached up to squeeze your breast through his shirt.

Bucking under his tongue, your shoulders falling back against the wall, you heard his too-old alarm clock crack dully against the carpet. Your eyes rolled back behind closed lids, and when you came it was with a drawn-out moan of his name, your thighs quivering on either side of his head.

Before you could even catch your breath Clint rose, a pained grunt quietly leaving him as he pressed a hand to the bandages on his side. Still, he didn’t hesitate to kiss you again, his erection pressing against your stomach as he leaned into you. You shuddered as the fingers of his other hand continued to tease against your clit slowly.

Palming him through his sweats, you smiled as Clint groaned against your mouth, and he broke away to press his forehead against yours. Standing on shaking legs, you gently forced him to turn so you could urge him back onto the bed. Clint snickered as his back met the mattress obediently, but the sound died in his throat as he watched you move to straddle his lap slowly, the shirt riding up on your thighs.

You tugged his sweats down to his mid-thighs, tracing your nails up along his sensitive skin. Clint’s head fell back against the bed as you lowered yourself against him, mindful of his injury.

“So, I got all that just for borrowing a shirt?” you asked, grinding yourself slowly against the length of his cock.

Clint’s hands found your legs, sliding up along them take hold of your hips. “Oh, you’re keeping the shirt.”

You giggled, leaning down and bracing yourself on your good arm to kiss him again. Clint wrapped his arms around your middle, hand slipping up under the soft fabric to spread over your lower back. “And just like that, step one of my evil plan is complete.”

Clint smiled, his nose bumping affectionately against yours. “And what’s the endgame here, mastermind?”

You kissed the underside of his jaw. “I’m going to keep on stealing your clothes until you’re left butt-ass naked and at my mercy.”

Clint chuckled, cupping your cheek and bringing your mouth back to his. He kissed you slowly and long, another wave of delicious giddiness swirling in your belly.

“Downright devious,” he mumbled with a smile against your lips, the words melting into a deep, heady moan as the next slow roll of your hips over his pressed the head of his cock into you. Your eyes closed as you lowered yourself further onto him. His lips caught yours again, moving to your chin, the underside of your jaw, the base of your throat. Clint cursed breathlessly as you began to fuck yourself lazily on his cock. “Shit, baby…”

His hands moved to your backside, massaging the flesh, pressing your body tighter against his. Clint’s lips dusted over your jaw, cheek, and your forehead, your nose crinkling as his lips brushed lightly along the tip of it. The light filtering through the blinds cast his skin in a warm glow, his eyes alight with an affection that warmed the very core of you.

The way he looked at you… the heat in his eyes mixing the way he filled you… the both of them sent a dizzying high dancing up your spine. You barely moved, the two of you near-breathless just from the feeling of him inside you. You lay your head on his chest, basking in the warmth of his embrace and the sun. The next words left you unwillingly. “…Exactly how soon do they expect us to report in?”

Clint groaned softly, his hand sliding up your back. “I was hoping you weren’t going to ask me that.”

You pouted, turning your head to rest your chin on his chest. “That soon, huh?”

You whimpered as Clint pushed his hips up into yours, agonizingly slow. His hand moved into your hair, fisting in the locks as he pulled you into another kiss. This was deeper than the brief, affectionate brushes of his lips, hungrier. More passionate. You moaned into it.

“We’ve got time,” he told you softly, groaning into another kiss as you began to roll your hips against his again. You fucked him slow, steadily, your body tingling wherever it met his. Clint slipped a hand between you, and your eyes rolled back, closing as he touched two fingers to your clit.

“Fuck…”

“Uh, uh, sugar,” he murmured, his other hand cupping your cheek. “Eyes open for me.”

You cursed again, too focused on the building sensation in your core to respond.

“C’mon, baby, please,” he urged, his voice torn with desire and his own steadily approaching release. After teasing each other, after just feeling you squeezing around him, he was too far gone already. “Look at me.”

You forced your eyes open dazedly, lips parting as you hovered inches over him. Clint’s breath tickled your lips, his hands tightening on your hips before you both came, your body shaking over his.

“Damn…” you sighed, letting your head fall back against his chest. Clint chuckled breathlessly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His arms encircled your waist again, fingers linking together loosely.

“You can say that again.”

“Damn.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Clint snickered, shaking his head against the mattress. “I meant what I said about you keeping the shirt.”

“Good,” you replied with a smile. “Because there is no way I am ever going to give it back now.”

.

.

.

.

tags: tags: @trekkingaroundasgard @lol-you-thought @ruderavenclaw @wittyforachange @notafraid-bitch-igot9lives @akumune @enna-core @xxboesefrauxx @hearmyharmony @katsies @lipstickandtanqueray @youralphawolf72 @maenji @rhymesmenagerie @wefracturedmotivation​ @january-echoes​ @glossyloner​ @capitalnineteen​ @youclickedthislink​ @s0ftness​ @castieltrash1​ @drakelover78​ @queenoftheunderdark​ @gwianasky

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #clint barton x you #clint barton x oc #clint barton x ofc #clint barton reader insert #clint barton fanfiction #clint barton fanfic #clint barton imagine #hawkeye #hawkeye reader insert #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye x you #hawkeye x ofc #hawkeye x oc #hawkeye imagine #hawkeye fanfiction #hawkeye fanfic #mine: fanfic #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #mcu reader insert #marvel #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine

[bigbadripley]

heyo can I geta mf uhh kate bishop x dom!f!reader with a strap? just good old pwp

Like Water (18+)

Pairing: Sub!Kate Bishop x Dom!Fem!Reader | Minors DNI!!  ⚠️

Warnings: PWP drabble, strap use, Kate the Fountain, mommy dom

Title from "Water" by Kehlani

"That's a good fuckin' girl." You praised as Kate came on your strap. You held her hips to the bed and buried it deeper, watching as she writhed and cried out, wetness splashing against your pelvis. 

The only thing on your mind was making it happen again and again as you continued to fuck her through it, refusing to give her a breather. She took you so well, swallowing the whole shaft into her tight cunt. "Cum for me again, sweet girl." You coaxed. More breathy moans left her lips, her legs began to shake, and her tits bounced. She was closer than you thought.

"Fuck, mommy. Don't stop, please." Kate pleaded. You were happy to oblige, and she came undone within seconds of you pistoning harder. Another gush hit you, and you smiled at her back arching. You could do this all day.

#kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x you #hawkeye fanfic #hawkeye fanfiction #x reader #x you #reader insert #smut #kate bishop smut #marvel smut #marvel mcu #marvel fanfic #marvel #drabble #mcu fic #mcu fanfiction #mcu #marvel drabble

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Broken by Jonah Kagen

Summary: Grief is a funny thing especially when you ignore it and let it fester. It can scary and vulnerable like a ticking time bomb that is ready to explode and hurt anyone it it's way.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning: angst with fluff, grief, death of a major character, drinking, self-harm?

December 3, 2025

Kate was surprised to wake up to an empty bed at 0200, no less. At the beginning of her relationship with the Black Widow, she was used to it, but now she depends on her girlfriend’s warmth to keep her asleep. There were some exceptions when they were both on missions. However, they weren’t on missions and sleeping in their shared New York City apartment for the first time in 2 weeks. Kate needed Yelena. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and noticed the dogs were missing, too. “Where did you run off to?” Kate asked the darkness. Throwing on a sweatshirt, she exited their bedroom. Yelena was easy to find. The Blonde was sitting on the kitchen bar with an open bottle of vodka and the dogs at her feet, fast asleep.

As Kate approached, she noticed the lack of shot glass or glass. Yelena was drinking straight from the bottle. The archer stood before her, leaning against the countertop that separated them. No one spoke. They sat in a heavy silence as they waited for the other to break it. Kate observed her girlfriend; her green eyes weren’t red, her cheeks weren’t blotchy, so she hadn’t been crying. Her jaw wasn’t clenched, so angry was out of the option. But her eyes had a far-off look as if she was staring directly through her. With a sigh, Yelena took a long sip from the bottle. “You should be sleeping, malen’kiy yastreb (little hawk),” she broke the silence. The nickname never failed to spread warmth through Kate. “You have a busy day.” That was true. She had a meeting with Sam, training with Peter, and a lunch date with Geer and Fanny. She quickly stopped at the Sanctum to meet with American and Steven.

But Yelena’s day was just as busy. A meeting with Sonya to go over the next round of Widows that needed to be saved, checking in on some Widows that lived in the city, and a phone call with Melina. “I couldn’t sleep without you,” her honestly made Yelena smile, but it was short-lived. It was a delicate dance when trying to figure out how to help the Black Widow. Sometimes, it felt like a balancing act, carefully walking on a type of rope over a sold-out crowd. But Kate was patient; she wasn’t the world’s best archer because she was impulsive. “Do you want to tell me why you’re sitting here with the dogs and a bottle of vodka?” But her question was met with Yelena taking another sip from the bottle. It was wishful thinking that she would get an answer, but she tried to rack her brain. Did Sonya say something about the last mission they were on? No. “If you don’t want to talk or come back to bed, can we sit on the couch?” She asked, offering her hand.

Yelena stared at the stretched hand in front of her so intently it was like she was trying to diffuse a bomb. With a sigh, she took it and allowed Kate to lead her to the couch, not forgetting the bottle. Once she sat down and was comfortable, Kate laid her head on Yelena’s lap and dragged a blanket over her. The Blonde was staring down at Kate, one arm thrown over the edge of the couch with a tight hold on the bottle. With her free hand, she ran it through Kate’s hair and traced a scar on her temple she received from the Battle of New York.

It was something they both did, tracing the scars that the other wore. It was a simple reminder to both of them of how fragile life was and how quickly they could have lost each other. Yelena’s touch was soothing, and Kate was fighting the pull of sleep. “If you could change the past,” Yelena said. “Would you?” The question forced Kate to stay awake. It was a difficult question that did not have a straightforward answer. To Kate, time travel seemed dangerous. It was a necessary evil for the Avengers to bring those like her girlfriend back from Thanos’ first snap, but it had too much power. It was why the Time Stone was guarded.

“I don’t know, Lena,” Kate finally answered. “What if I go back and change one little thing, and it changes my life now.” She would have never needed to pick up a bow and arrow if she saved her father. “Is the past what’s got you so upset?”

“Do you know what day it is?”

“December 3, 2025,” she answered. “What’s so special about today?” The Black Widow smirked.

“As an Avenger super fan, I’m disappointed,” Kate rolled her eyes. Kamala was the Avenger know-it-all. “It’s Natasha’s birthday,” the archer sat up so quickly she almost hit her head against Yelena’s. “You almost made me spill my vodka.” She deadpanned.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kate asked. Yelena sighed, moving her shoulders up and down. She went for another sip, but Kate grabbed the bottle to stop her. Green eyes sent daggers to her, but that didn’t deter Kate. “You do everything for a reason, Yelena,” she whispered. A pin could be heard if it was dropped in their apartment; not even the dogs stirred from their sports. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She repeated.

“Because I’m broken,” it happened rather suddenly; Yelena ripped the bottle out of Kate’s hand and threw it against the wall. The glass bottle shattered, spraying glass and vodka on the floor and wall. It woke the two dogs up, and they scattered to see the commotion. “Fuck,” Yelena hurried off the couch and began to pick up the glass pieces. The shock Kate had worn off.

“Fanny, Lucky, upstairs and stay,” the dogs obeyed the command, but Kate saw Fanny hesitate. Quickly, Kate approached Yelena and put her hand on her shoulder. The Blonde shrugged it off.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she repeated. Blood started to form on Yelena’s hands as she squeezed the glass shards in her hands.

“Baby, stop,” Kate said. “Stop!” The archer used enough force to push Yelena away from the glass. The Black Widow didn’t put up much of a fight as her back rested against the couch. “It’s okay,” Kate reassured, kneeling before her. “I’m going to clean this up and clean your hands.” There was no response from the Blonde as tears swelled in her green eyes.

It was quick work for Kate to clean up the glass, wipe up the vodka, and then grab a first aid for Yelena. The Blonde was still in the same spot; no tears left her eyes. “Can I see your hands, baby?”

“I’m fine,” but she allowed Kate to grab her closed palms and open them.

“I’ll try to be careful and quick, okay?” She began pulling the shards of glass from her hands and cleaning the cuts. “You’re hurting,” she whispered. “But you show no sign.”

“Cause I’m afraid to give in, break down, and waste your time,” she said, staring at her hands, wincing slightly when Kate had to dig out a challenging piece, but the archer blew on the cut to ease the pain. “You wouldn’t believe me if you knew the things that crossed my mind.” Kate finished cleaning her hands and wrapped them with a bandage. With the serum in Yelena’s veins, Kate knew the cuts would be healed by the time they went to bed. It was mostly for her own sanity that they were protected. Kate kissed each one of them and then traced the bandages. She kept her touch soft and gentle, causing Yelena to breathe shaky. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it.” She stuttered. The hitch in her voice caused Kate to look up at her girlfriend as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Tell me,” Kate kept her voice steady and calm when a deep turmoil raced through her. “What don’t you deserve it?”

“Your help or for you to tell me I’m worth it, but I don’t deserve it,” Yelena sobbed. “I need your hand but don’t want to burn it. Please,” she pleaded. “Pull me out of the fire.” Kate brought the Blonde into her arms and switched positions so she was sitting on the couch and Yelena was on her lap. Her face burrowed in the crock of her neck, and Kate felt every tear. Kate never witnessed Yelena break down. There were times when a nightmare shook her to her core, and the only way for her to go back to sleep was if Kate held her tight. She had to get a bullet dug out of her shoulder, and she squeezed Sonya’s hand so tight she almost broke it.

But this was the first time it was unfiltered, vulnerable, and letting down all her walls. Her hands twisted in the fabric of Kate’s search, and she cried. Kate hugged her tight. “I want my sister back. I want more time.”

“I know, I know,” Kate repeated, rocking her back and forth. “You’re doing so well, baby. It’s okay.”

“W-what?” Yelena questioned, pulling back slightly. Her hands rested on Kate’s shoulders, staring down at her girlfriend. “I don’t understand.” Kate smiled, whipping away her tears with the sleeves of her shirt.

“You need to cry, Yelena. You need to cry, grieve, and feel,” she whispered. “No need to hold it in anymore. I’m here. I’ll catch you,” Kate promised. “Just fall, sweetheart, just fall.” Yelena blinked down at her, eyes laced in confusion, and Kate saw a few tears fall onto her shirt.

“Okay,” she lowered her head to rest on Kate’s shoulder, and tears began to fall. There was a song Kate’s father used to sing when she struggled to sleep. She’s long since forgotten the words, but she remembered the tone. Kate hummed that song until Yelena fell asleep.

*

When Yelena woke up, her head was throbbing, and it was past the usual time she usually woke up. On her nightstand was a tall glass of water and a bottle of painkillers, with a note from Kate. She said she was meeting with Sam and would be home right now. Some of her felt guilty that Kate was canceling her plans, but she wanted to be with her after the night she had.

Yelena never allowed herself to break like that. There was never time. The Red Room was always watching, then she was freeing Widows, and finally, she lost five years of her life, which led her to work with Valentine. Kate was the only person besides her sister who felt safe to let these walls down.

Sighing, she got out of bed and walked downstairs. Lucky was the only dog that followed her. It was a long night; Fanny deserved a few extra hours of sleep. She walked down the stairs and over to the record player Kate got her for her birthday. Putting on a record, she began to stretch out her sore muscles.

The question she asked Kate haunted her. Would she go back in time to change the past? She could stop the Red Room from ever gaining power or give Melina and Alexei a chance to betray Dreykov or save Natasha. But Kate was right; how would going into the past affect her now?

She was lying on her back when Lucky walked over to her and stared down at her. The one-eyed Golden Retriever had his tongue out and was looking a little confused. He was probably thinking why she was on the floor. Yelena chuckled, reaching up to pet his head. “Were both upside down?” She whispered.

Lucky barked and began to lick her face, which caused Yelena to laugh. Her sadness and guilt began to fade away, especially when Fanny came running down the stairs to join her friend. Not even the door opening pulled the dogs away from their missions. “Having fun?” Yelena sat up, pushed the dogs away, and stared at her girlfriend. Lucky went to investigate the bags the archer set on the floor. “How are you?”

“I’m,” she took a moment to go over everything. “Sad, but I’m okay.” Kate nodded, picking up the bag from the floor.

“Well, I got something if you up for it. Your favorite mac and cheese, a gingerbread house to decorate, and a few of the Bond movies,” she stacked everything on the counter. Yelena smiled and whipped the dog drool off her face. She brought the archer into a hug.

“Thank you, malen’kiy yastreb (little hawk),” she mumbled. Kate kissed her forehead.

“Always, sweetheart,” she smiled. “If you’re broken, I’ll help you fix every crack until you feel worthy of all my love.” Yelena kissed her girlfriend’s cheek. Unfortunately, Yelena’s past wasn’t kind to her. It robbed her, stole from her, and beat her down to rebuild whatever they broke. However, it got her to meet Kate, and she was excited for the future, but she wished her sister was here to see it. Happy Birthday, Natalia.

#yelena belova x kate bishop #kate bishop x yelena belova #bishlova #black widow fanfiction #hawkeye fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[ynscrazylife]

How abt a Clint Barton imagine where reader teaches him how to rollerblade?

teaching clint how to rollerblade (clint barton x reader, can be read as romantic or platonic)

When you suggested that the Avengers go to a rollerblading rink as a team-building exercise, Clint was quite sheepish to admit that he didn’t know how to rollerblade. Natasha burst out laughing at him (because he was so skilled, yet couldn’t get the hang of rollerblading??), as did the rest of the team, but you took pity on him and offered to teach him. Rollerblading was your thing and Clint was your friend, so it was perfect.

He insisted on only going to the rink after hours. The last thing he needed was a video to surface on the internet of Hawkeye slipping and falling on his butt. It took a little convincing of the rink’s employees, but you were their favorite customer, so you succeeded in the end.

You prided yourself on being a good teacher but . . . Clint made it difficult. He was huffing, puffing, and whining everytime he failed to get the hang of it. He did fall more than once and glared, grumpy, when you laughed. You did your best to cover your mouth but c’mon, it was funny!

Natasha also bribed you with money to get some videos of Clint slipping and falling, so you had to do that. The moment when Clint actually got the hang of rollerblading was when he saw you filming him. It was if he was a mother getting enough adrenaline to lift up a car off her kid — he jumped up from the floor and lunged at you.

“No!” You squealed as you tried to turn away. Clint grinned maniacally as he wrapped his arms around your midsection, dragging you back.

“You’re gonna delete that video,” Clint demanded.

“I don’t think so—ahh!” You yelped as Clint knocked into you, sending the both of you sprawling onto the floor.

“You are the worst student,” you grumbled to Clint.

He rolled his eyes at you. “Yeah, yeah. You’re not a bad teacher,” he mumbled.

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #clint barton x you #clint barton x y/n #hawkeye imagine #hawkeye clint barton #hawkeye fanfic #hawkeye fic #hawkeye fanfiction #hawkeye #clint barton fic #clint barton imagine #clint barton fanfiction

[theflashzoom]

HAWKEYE : NSFW Profile

Rating: Mature

Category: M/F

Relationship: Clint Barton x Reader

Words Counts: 623

Character: Clint Barton, Reader

Summary:

🏹Clint has a target and he knows where he wants to point his loads of shots into your favorite spot.🎯

#clint barton #marvel comics #hawkeye #clint barton fanfiction #clint barton x reader #clint barton fanfic #clint barton fic #hawkeye fanfic #hawkeye fanfiction #hawkeye fic #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye smut #clint barton smut #ao3 stuff #a03 link #a03 fanfic #marvel #the avengers

[sspoiledmelk]

he’s just a guy

#tryin his best #art #fan art #fanfic #fandom #marvel #hawkeye #hawkeye fanart #hawkeye fanfiction #comics #comic book art #comics clint in superior #clint barton #your honor #pls help him

[chooseyourownavenger]

[START] [ABOUT AND WARNINGS] [FAQ]

IRONHAWK/ I’d like to be pregnant

“I would love to at least try to get pregnant.  Are you sure you’ll be okay with not knowing which of you it is?  I don’t want jealousy over that being the reason we break up,” you say.

“Whoever you have the baby with, it will be both our baby,” Tony assures you.  “I just really love the idea of experiencing the pregnancy.  You know - ultrasounds, feeling them kick - all that kind of thing.”

“I want to do the trying bit,” Clint teases.

“I need to get my birth control taken out,” you say.   “Maybe a check-up - make sure everything is working?”

“Well, we can practice until then,” Clint says.  “Right?”

You book in to see your doctor about taking out your birth control straight away.  You’re told it can take between three and eight months after you have the implant taken out to get pregnant, so for three months, the three of you have to try and relax and tell yourselves not to expect a positive pregnancy test immediately after you have sex.

To help keep yourselves in the mindset, you just call all sex; practice.  Even if it’s the kind of sex that had absolutely no way of making a baby.  In those instances, one of you always jokes that you definitely need to keep practicing because of how bad you are at it.

It helps keep things light and saves any kind of a disappointment because you aren’t pregnant yet.

When the three months are up, something shifts in the three of you.  That night there’s almost apprehension about what may happen.  You take off your clothes and turn away from them like you’re shy about them seeing you.  Clint comes up behind you and kisses your neck.  “What are you doing?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say.  “Tonight just feels important.”

He tilts your head back to look at him.  “It’s not practicing anymore.  We’re actually trying.”

You take a breath and kiss him, your tongue flicking out to meet his.  You turn in his arms and he starts backing up to the bed, pulling you along with him as he sheds his clothes.  Tony comes up behind you, already naked.  He kisses your neck and you break the kiss with Clint and lean back to kiss Tony.

Tony kissed you hungrily.  One of his hands goes to your breast while the other presses between your legs and toys with your clit.

You moan and rut against his hand as Clint sits down in front of you.  You move forward, straddling Clint’s lap.  The archer’s calloused hands run up your side and he leans forward and pulls one of your nipples into his mouth.  You moan and sit, in his lap, your hands tangling in his hair as you let your head fall back against Tony’s chest.

Your skin prickles like there’s an electric current running just under the surface.  You rolled your hips so Clint’s shaft slides up and down the lips of your pussy.  Your slick coats his shaft and he groans into your skin.

“Fuck,” you gasp.  “I want you both.  I want both of you to come inside me.”

  Tony pulls away and grabs the lube as you push Clint onto his back.  Clint wraps his hand around his cock and taps it on your clit twice before guiding it into your sopping cunt.

You moan, arching your back as you push down on his cock more.  Tony moves up behind you and starts rubbing lube along the place where you and Clint are joined.  His finger pushes inside you.  You mewl at the stretch and clench around them both.  They both still as you adjust and Clint pulls you down into a kiss.

Tony keeps moving his finger in and out of you and adds another as Clint continues to kiss you and moves his hips in shallow thrusts.  You break the kiss with Clint and throw your head back with a loud moan.  “Please, Tony,” you beg.  “Please, just fuck me.”

He takes his fingers away and lubes up his cock.  There is a burn at your entrance as he presses the head against Clint’s shaft and starts to penetrate you.  You mewl and grit your teeth and he slowly eases in.

When he’s in as deep as he can go and you feel completely stretched and full, both men start to thrust.  Heat blooms in your core and spreads out through you like treacle.  Your edges feel soft and you have trouble keeping your eyes open.  Tony’s hand pushes into your hair and he pulls it, as one of Clint’s hands slips between your body and he starts to rub your clit.  It’s too much, your body seizes up all at once as your orgasm tears through you and you cry out.

“Fuck,” Tony grunts. “Gonna break our dicks.”

Clint laughs breathlessly and even as your body shudders with your orgasm you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up inside you.  They keep fucking you, their hips snapping in tandem.  Their thrusts become erratic and their moans become louder.  You feel another orgasm building and when Clint pinches your clit, it crashes down on you again.  The clenching of your cunt pulls Clint over with you and he thrusts up hard as he releases inside you.  You moan and let your head fall onto his shoulder, squeezing your cunt like you’re trying to milk them both.  “Come, Tony.  I want it.  I want both of you mixing inside me.”

“Yeah, baby.  Gonna get you pregnant,” Tony growls.

That sends you over again, your body shudders as it washes over you and brings Tony along with it, his come mixing with Clint’s.

They hold themselves inside you until their cocks still and then carefully slip out of you and collapse on the bed beside you.  You curl up in a little pile and they both put their hands on your stomach.

“It won’t have happened yet,” you giggle.

“We know,” Clint says.

“But we’ve started trying,” Tony adds.  “And that’s enough for now.”

It takes another few months to get pregnant.  In the first month, everyone is relaxed about it, but by the third, Tony is freaking out.  When you finally get that positive line on a pregnancy test the three of you are delighted.

Tony becomes ultra protective of you, researching all the do’s and don’t of pregnancy.  If you even thought about touching a piece of brie he’d start freaking out.  Clint, on the other hand, is super excited.  He can’t help telling everyone he came in contact with the new news about the pregnancy.  If he went out alone for any reason - even the one time he went out on a mission - he always came home with a present for you and something for the baby.

Each new thing you learned about the life growing inside you, makes you feel more connected to it.  At twenty weeks you find out you’re having a girl.  At thirty weeks the team throws you a huge baby shower.  It’s exciting and yet at the same time, you feel as normal as you’ve felt since you’ve gone down this path with Clint and Tony.  The press hasn’t caught wind of any of it, so it’s just the three of you, making your lives feel so completely normal, despite the fact they aren’t normal at all.

You wake up early a few days before the due date with a wet patch on the bed and leaking fluid.

“Tony,” you say as you shake Clint awake.  Clint sits up suddenly in a defensive position and looks around confused.

“What’s going on?” Tony asks as Clint seems to relax and goes to grab his hearing aids.

“Either I just wet the bed or my water broke,” you said.

“You’re water broke?” Clint says, jumping out of bed.  “What?  We gotta go!”

“Just chill would you?” you say.  “I’ll call the hospital and find out what to do, can you change the sheets?”

A call to the hospital and a shower later you are back in bed while Clint and Tony continue to freak out.  You’re told to stay put until your labor starts but to call back in six hours if it hasn’t.

What follows is a day of sitting around trying to rest as much as you can while absolutely nothing happens, and then four extremely painful hours where your labor progresses so quickly that by the time you make it to the hospital there isn’t even time to consider drugs before you have to push.

Thirty minutes later your daughter is in your arms and two men look so in love beside you gazing down at her.

“Look at that little bean,” Clint whispers.  “She’s perfect.”

“You did it, honey,” Tony says.  “I’m so proud of you.”

You’re exhausted and elated and so in love and ready to start the next chapter of your life to start with your family.

~ END ~

#I’d like to be pregnant #marvel #avengers #tony stark #clint barton #iron man #hawkeye #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #hawkeye fanfiction #ironhawk #ironhawk x reader #clint barton/tony stark/reader #clint barton x reader #tony stark x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #choose your own adventure #choose your own avenger #clint #tony

[renner4real]

You open the door and he’s standing there fixing his hair and taking a deep breath before you open it.

He doesn’t know you’re standing there and you can’t take your eyes off of his strong hand slowly running through his hair.

#jeremy renner #hawkeye #clint barton #jeremy renner fandom #jeremyrenneredit #jeremy renner edit #clint barton x you #clint barton x reader #hawkeye x you #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye fanfiction #clint barton fanfiction #hawkeye series #hawkeye fanfic #jeremy renner hands #jeremy renner aesthetic

[unholyhelbig]

Can you do a Kate x reader fic where Kate and R are friends and R gets hurt and ends up unconscious for a while and Kate confesses her feelings? Thanks so much, love your work :)

Title: The Sun Also Rises

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4155

Warnings: Injuries, blood, general heartbreak, gunshot wounds, yelling and Ernest Hemingway if you're an English major

[A/n: Can you tell I'm nearing the end of my quarantine by the sheer amount of content I've been churning out? Less than 24 hours and I'm free from my enclosure. Also, did not proofread this one either]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

The mission was simple. It was recon. They weren’t supposed to engage unless they were engaged first. Kate Bishop knew this was how things were intended to go, but she also knew that nothing was predictable in the field and no matter how much they prepared for things to go wrong, it was never expected when they did.

Her fingers had gone numb in the cold of the night, her ribs had a dull ache that thrummed with her heartbeat. Kate was pressed against the rocky rooftop, binoculars pressed to her eyes as she watched the abandoned building aptly.

You were on the ground, bundled nice and warm in a van that was parked half a block away. There was a non-descript logo of a cooling company painted on the side, and the meter had been paid off for the foreseeable future. It was a safe zone. It was supposed to be a safe zone.

Kate could feel a burning in her shoulders, took a moment to adjust herself on the rooftop. That was all it took, really. She hadn’t seen the flicker of movement at the base of the building, the way that freight doors were pushed open in the dark.

“Kate,” her partner’s voice came through her comm. It was wracked with static despite the fact that she sat in the epitome of tech. “We might have a problem.”

“What’s going on?”

“Four suits walking my way.”

There was a twinge of fear in your voice. Of course, you could handle yourself against four guys. It was when the weapons came into play that things became questionable. Training didn’t matter, not when bullets ripped through flesh and blood began to pour.

Kate directed her sights to the group of tracksuits that were strolling down the rain-reflected pavement. Kate tightened her grip against the binoculars until her knuckles turned white. She let out the slightest breath as they approached.

She nocked an arrow, pulling it effortlessly from the quiver strapped to her back. Her fingers were damp, still numb. But that didn’t change her accuracy. The two of you waited with bated breath.

The four men stopped a few feet away from your van, lilting their heads as if they were assessing the situation. There was a moment of quiet, it could have been a minute, maybe even two, but to Kate it felt like a century. She could feel the string of her bow cutting into her skin, the shaking in each inhalation of cold air.

“Well, fuck”

You whispered the words before gunfire erupted. Kate thinks that you sensed it before she did, and the second the first flash popped, she released her arrow into the crook of the offenders knee. But there were three more, and while she re-nocked and aimed between the ribs of the next.

There were two more shots fired and Kate didn’t have much of a moment to think. The van was littered with bullet-holes and she used her third arrow to create a line directly to you, wrapped sloppily around a lamp post.

She didn’t wait, not with you. Never with you. If there was any fear of bolstering her bow and swinging down to street level, she didn’t feel it. Both heels of her boots hit the third suits’ chest. She heard a pop that rivaled the scent of gunpowder as he dropped.

Kate wordlessly used her bow to take out the last guy, his gun lowered. Her mind was screaming, even as she smashed the instrument against a temple hard with enough force to break skin. She kicked the gun away, something that seemed of little consequence, but had dalmationed the van.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

Kate pulled open the back door of the van. It groaned in response. She could smell the sweet metal before her eyes located you. Screens smoked, laptops going dark, but taking the brunt of the gunfire. You had pushed everything from a bolstered platform, having moved it in front of you for another layer of metal before the gunfire met you.

Smart. You were always so smart, even in distress. It was part of the reason Kate loved having you as a mission partner. That- and you weren’t against playing twenty questions with her through the coms when it was just the two of you.

Kate’s heart broke into a million pieces as she hoisted herself up into the back of the van. Her boots slid on the blood that was slowly seeping across the metal floor. She fell to her knees painfully but didn’t care. Instead, she pushed the table away.

You were curled in on yourself, but despite your coiled stance, she could see the blood. There was so much of it. She could barely hear your stunted breathes, but when she homed in on them, they were fast and shallow. Kate’s fingers pressed against your pulse point. That, on the other hand, was dangerously slow.

“Y/n, stay with me,” Kate rasped out, patting her pockets until she found her phone.

It threatened to slide out of her hands, swipes of blood glowing through the screen. She pressed Natasha’s contact name. Her handler. Her confidant. She only had to say a few words, it was plaguing her voice so deeply, nothing else was needed. “Nat, I need you.”

Three bullets total had hit you. Two in the abdomen and one in the chest. The slight gurgling noise that Kate had heard in the back of the van was a good sign of life, but a bad sign for your lungs. One had threatened to collapse and really; Doctor Cho had essentially said the best thing they could do was make sure that you were stabilized.

She had used the words “make sure she’s comfortable” and Kate must have let out an inhuman noise because Yelena was at her side, gently leading her away from the med bay and towards the closest bathroom. It was an unnatural stainless-steel white compared to the broken state Kate found herself in.

“Malen'kiy yastreb, you have to breathe.”

Yelena’s words were soft, riddled with a quiet accent that held no malice. She guided Kate to the toilet, sitting her on the lid before she pulled as many towels as she could from the dispenser. She warmed water and waited until they were soaked through. Yelena shut off the water and knelt in front of Kate.

She took Kate’s chin and gently started to wipe away the dried blood on her face. Kate’s hands were saturated, her clothes caked with the drying substance. There was so much of it, so much. And while Yelena knew it would be too much to coax Kate into taking a shower, she worked with what she had.

“I should have done more. When they were walking towards her, I waited. We… wanted to see what they would do, and they opened fire, Lena.”

It was a bold move. They had somehow clocked that they were being watched and made a massive play that was bordering on pure aggression. Kate could feel anger form cold in her stomach.

“We will handle it.” Yelena moved to Kate’s hands, working away at the dark red tint. When she said that, Kate knew she meant it. There was a darkness in her eyes that mirrored the underlying sorrow Kate felt in your absence.

They sat quietly for a moment. The only sounds were the scrubbing of Yelena’s efforts and the small sniffs as Kate let her tears hit the collar of her shirt. The words, they were stuck in her throat.

“What if she doesn’t make it?”

Forbade their close proximity, and Yelena would not have heard the question, but her heart broke undoubtedly. She stopped working away at the color, now a dingy orange, something that was manageable and less gory.

Yelena knew how Kate Bishop felt about you. She would have been a terrible assassin if she did not pick up on the soft gestures, the longing looks, and the seconds that sparked between you both while you sparred; your back against the mat, Kate pinning you down with a smile that could only ring in it’s truest form.

She hadn’t admitted it yet, despite the poking and prodding that Yelena forced upon her. After all, their line of work was a dangerous one, and not a place to pine. Life was too short not to ask for what you wanted, and that was truer now than it ever had been.

“We will handle that too, Malen'kiy yastreb. Right now, you have to be with her. When Natasha was in her coma, they said she wouldn’t pull through, but she did. They also said that just being there was what helped her hold on. Talking to her. Perhaps you should do the same?”

It wasn’t a question, not really, because Yelena stood and tapped the side of Kate’s knee to jolt her from her trance. She’d stopped crying, at least, a numbness spreading through her. If she had paid attention to the blood, really paid attention, then she would crumble once more.

Yelena had helped more than she realized, and Kate made a mental note to make it up to her at some point. Despite her rough exterior, Natasha was the one who typically dealt with the feelings. Clint was impossible at it, and Yelena performed in actions rather than words, but Kate didn’t’ need someone to tell her it would all be okay, not right now.

The med bay was mostly empty when Kate returned. There was a nurse in toxic blue scrubs that glanced up at her noncommittedly when she entered, and Kate was oddly thankful for that too. Her eyes darted to your room, a last-minute edition from Tony when one of the team members had an extended stay.

It looked more like an escape pod, bright lights that were dimmed for comfort and a hospital bed. There was a chair that could recline and another one that didn’t. It was built for quarantine if needed, but the door was cracked open.

You looked so small, dwarfed by the machines that worked tirelessly to keep you alive. There was a breathing tube taped to your lips, and a needle had been pushed into the top of your hand. Your stomach and chest had been wrapped with gauze; a small bandage placed over a cut on your brow- so inconsequential.

Kate couldn’t stop the whimper that moved through her lips, but she pressed her fingers against them to stifle the sound. There were so many emotions, so much hurt and anger at herself for not getting to you faster.

She carefully stepped closer, using her stained fingertips to move a strand of hair from your clammy forehead. Kate could hear her tears hitting the scratchy blanket. There was a monitor that beeped along with your heart, and she thought it was much too slow.

“Hi there,” She whispered, taking your hand. It was cold, and she wanted desperately to warm them. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry y/n/n.”

Kate finally broke down, careful with her movements as she sobbed into the small of your neck. You usually smelled of pine, and of the slightest bit of sweat, but all she could get was metal and antiseptic.

“You have to pull through for me, okay? There’s so much we haven’t gotten the chance to do. We haven’t even been on a real mission yet, you know? Clint will never let me live that one down. Getting so fucked up on recon. Who does that?”

Kate paused and waited for your answer. She counted three beeps, before shaking her head and letting out a little laugh. It should have been her in the van, though, the thought of you at her vantage point on the horizon was unheard of.

“You know what, forget the mission, y/n. You know what we really need to do? We need to get you to the beach. God, I’m telling you, it’s just as beautiful as you imagine it to be. My parents have that house on the coast. It’s right on the water, and you can smell the salt from miles away. I’m telling you… miles.”  

She let out a small sob, squeezed your hand tightly and kissed your fingers before pressing her forehead against them. She wished they were warmer, she wished you were warm.

“And the sand… people don’t really like sand because it get’s everywhere, and I mean everywhere, but y/n/n, the sun warms it all day and then at night, at night when you can’t see past the darkness of the waves and it’s not as crowded with people and kids, and dogs, you can still hold onto that one bit of morning.

“I had my first kiss there, down by the docks. I remember it so clearly. It was awful. I’m talking open-mouthed, slobbery, and just much too long even though it only lasted seconds.”

Kate chuckled at the memory, shook her head. She looked at you, at your delicate features and the small scars that littered your skin. They weren’t all from today, and she ached for you to explain each and every faded mark while her fingers traced them.

“I remember thinking, this is it? I’ve waited my whole life for this? I was only fifteen, and my life wasn’t all that long of a wait yet, but the older I get, the more I realize that that first kiss isn’t anything special. Sure, we were on the beach, and the sky was this cotton-candy type of pink. It was supposed to be perfect. But it wasn’t, because I wasn’t with the right person.”

She swallowed hard, her mouth was suddenly dry. She wished she had more time. She wished that she could spend another day with you, struggling over road-maps with a red twist of licorice hanging out of the side of your mouth. Kate craved a day where the sun was too strong, and the lemonade just the right amount of sour. She wanted to see the look on your face when you realized how vast the ocean is.

“When you get better, I’ll take you out there. I’ll take you to the beach and we’ll sit on the docks and we’ll watch the sunset. Every single night, we’ll watch the sunset, okay? But we can’t do that if you don’t pull through. If you don’t fight, I’ll never know… we’ll never know if that perfect moment exists.”

Kate cried until she drifted off to sleep, half-draped across your body in the most conscious of ways as if not to disturb you. She stirred once when the nurse came in and checked your fluids. Then twice the next morning when Natasha was there to coax her into drinking some water from a cheap Styrofoam cup.

Nothing had changed in two days, and Kate still remained rooted in her spot, shifting around the room. Clint brought her a change of clothes, and she made him turn around when she stripped and pulled on one of his t-shirts, a pair of sweatpants that were much too big.

Kate protested that she was getting enough sleep, and she would pick at the meals that they brought in for her. She refused to leave your side, sometimes pacing the length of the room in her socks as she told you all about the summer she turned sixteen and her adventures in their vacation home.

Most of the time, she would watch the slow rise and fall of your chest. She had grown accustomed to the rhythm of it. She wouldn’t take her eyes off you, looking for the faintest sign of movement. Something to let her know that you were still there.

A month in, and she was brought a cot, but still squeezed into the small sliver next to you. She watched the lights on the ceiling. Kate told you about all the places she wanted to take you; the small gas station that sold the best fried fish (trust her, it’s safe), and the fair that would occupy the last fifty yards of the pier for two weeks in July.

Two months in, and Natasha finally dared to go past the small opening of the room. She had watched from the window, and Kate hadn’t noticed. She and Clint would stand and talk for hours, taking in Kate’s heartbreak as she read from Earnest Hemmingway’s “The Old Man from the Sea” over and over again.

Natasha had shyly produced a copy of “The Sun Also Rises” before lowering herself into the uncomfortable chair in the room. Kate watched her warily, thanked her for the book. She held her breath until it burned.

“I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want to hear it.”

Natasha’s voice was quiet, barely heard over the roar of the machines “Katie,”

“No.”

“As your handler it’s my responsibility-“

“I said no!” Kate was standing now, her voice loud. She would never dare yell at Natasha. She’d never dream of it. For the first three months of their professional partnership, she struggled to even look the woman in the eye. Natasha didn’t flinch, she didn’t say anything. “I’m not giving up on her.”

“We have to prepare for the possibility that she’s not going to wake up.”

“She’s fighting, breathing on her own now, and I’m not going to let you come in here and tell me that she’s not going to come back. You’re the last person I would expect to come in here and tell me to give up. Tell her to give up!” Kate’s voice was losing steam “If this is about resources I can-“

“It’s not about resources, Kate. It’s about you. We’ve been watching you torture yourself for months now and there’s been no sign of brain activity.”

“Will you stop being so clinical about this? This is y/n.” Kate begged, her words finally broke, shattered into a million pieces. “y/n is in there, I know it. She has to be. She has to be because if she’s not, if she’s… fuck!”

Kate was frustrated and exhausted. Her knees buckled and Natasha, with her spy-like reflexes, had her wrapped in her arms in moments. She let Kate cry, both of them uncomfortably on the floor, the tile cool.  Natasha soothed her, tucked Kate’s nose against her neck. There was the slightest bit of pine.

“This is all my fault,” Kate murmured when she calmed “it’s all my fault.”

It had been a week after her conversation with Natasha and Kate was still headstrong in her efforts, though the woman’s words never truly left her. She was a good way through ‘The Sun Also Rises’, nodding off between paragraphs.

Kate’s feet were on the bed, the chair expertly balanced on it’s hind legs with the accuracy of an archer. She felt herself tilting back. Truth was, Kate was tired. Not in the physical sense, though her body hurt.

Despite what Natahsa, and Clint, and probably Yelena thought, Kate would be by your side until the end of time. She’d have to forge books about the ocean that had more plot, but refused to pick up a copy of Moby Dick.

Instead, she let out a sigh and closed the book over her fingers, squeezing the bridge of her nose. She thought of the beach, of her first kiss with Mickey Voit. More than anything, she thought of how nice it would be to feel your lips against hers, to see the bright look of life in your eyes.

Kate figured she had drifted off to an uncomfortable form of half-sleep when she heard it.

“You’re not going to keep reading?”

The voice was raspy, barely above a murmur. The words were unpracticed, but they meant everything all the same. Kate nearly tumbled from her chair; the book certainly flew to the ground as all four legs returned to stability.

She must be asleep, dreaming, or dead. Your stare bore into hers, red-rimmed but there all the same. And you were smiling, God, you were actually smiling after all of this time. It was a sight she thought she would never see again.

“Come on, you were getting to the part about never falling in love.”

“Always,” Kate gripped the armrests of the seat, afraid to let go. Fearful that if she did, she’d wake up and all of this would be over. You would be gone. “I am always in love.”

You blew air from your nose and started coughing, a brittle sound that made Kate stir from her position entirely. Damned if this was a dream, you needed a doctor. She’d will herself to sleep if it meant seeing you again.

Kate called for Cho frantically and stepped back when she rushed into the room, followed by two nurses and an intern that she had come to know based on her pitying glances. Kate really wanted to punch her in the face, most times, but was never happier to see her in this moment.

“Good god,” Doctor Cho quickly went to your side.

She dazedly took your vitals, having you squeeze her finger, something you did with some struggle, weakened from your months out of commission. She pressed the tip of her pen to the balls of your feet, checking your mobility, your lucidity as she guided a straw to your lips and you took a tentative sip.

Kate stood out of the way, her fingers pressed to her lips and her eyes watching every single movement carefully. She relished in your voice, however small it was, as she answered questions.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Agent Y/L/N.” Doctor Cho squeezed your shoulder “I’m going to alert the necessary parties and give you two some alone time… this one never left your side.”

There was a call button if you needed her, and the weight of uncertainty seemed to exit the room. The two of you were alone, as you had been for the last three months. Kate hated how pale you looked; how fragile you were. She wanted to pull you close and squeeze you as if there weren’t 78 stitches across your front.

“It’s so weird,” You lilted your head to the side “I had the strangest dream about the beach. I could see it so clearly, even though I’ve never been there.”

Kate hummed, suddenly timid “That is weird, maybe it was Tahiti?”

“Maybe” You chuckled and then winced “Ouch,”

The archer was at your side in less than a second. Out of habit, she had your hand in hers, quickly forgetting that she hadn’t ever done this before the accident. She still struggled to make the right about of eye contact with you so she wouldn’t’ come off as weird.

Kate groaned “This was easier when you were unconscious,”

“Okay? Ouch again?”

“Not… like that. God, I’m sleep deprived, and totally screwing this up. You would think that three months is enough time to work out a way to talk to a beautiful woman without sticking my fist in my mouth.”

She moved to pull her hand away, but you held onto it with strength to let her know that you never wanted to let her go. She looked down at your grasp, and then back up at you with the beginning of tears in her eyes.

“I didn’t tell you the best part about being at the beach. It was beautiful, really, so vivid and calm. The funny thing is, I was always at the end of this dock and the sky was always this pink color.” You frowned, a small crease between your eyebrows “I could hear you all around me, just pulling me to the end of that dock.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, but you were never there, and quite frankly, Katie, I was getting sick of waiting. So, one day I just jumped into the water, and it was startling, cold, but it woke me up… literally, I suppose. My point… I don’t think I would have jumped if I wasn’t trying to get back to you.”

Kate gently closed the distance between you both, pressing her lips so tenderly against yours. It took a moment for your mind to catch up, but when it did, your warm fingers found their way to her jaw, running along the expanse of her skin, breathing her in. She oddly smelled of sand and salt-water.

You whimpered into the kiss when she grazed an aching spot on your ribs and she was quick to pull back, a look of worry on her face “Sorry, oh god, sorry”

“It’s okay, just a little sore” You beamed at her, forehead pressed close to hers. “Was that better than your kiss with Mickey?”

Kate groaned, her nose cold against your cheek as she murmured “You heard that, huh?”

You had heard everything.

#kate Bishop #Kate Bishop x reader #Kate Bishop x y/n #Kate Bishop x you #Hawkeye #hawkeye fanfiction #request #Angst #Fluff #Angst with a happy ending #Marvel #Hurt comfort #natasha romanoff #yelena boleva #clint barton

[finnicks]

( fic ) two immovable stones

two immovable stones

mcu (hawkeye) | yelena/kate + lucky; teen, 200 words Kate does her best not to disturb Yelena and Lucky as they sleep.

#bishova #yelena x kate #kate x yelena #bishova fic #bishova fanfic #bishova fanfiction #yelena belova x kate bishop #kate bishop x yelena belova #yelena belova fic #yelena belova fanfic #yelena belova fanfiction #kate bishop fic #kate bishop fanfic #kate bishop fanfiction #hawkeye fic #hawkeye fanfic #hawkeye fanfiction #mcu fic #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #userjaded #my fic #*mine #drabble

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

to ashes, ultimatum

Clint Barton x F!Reader

To Ashes, Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Summary: it's time for you and clint to face the music. and each other.

Warnings: angst, fluff.

Word Count: 2,718

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prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 -31 - 32 - 33 - 34

Days Since the Decimation: Three Years, Sixty-Four Days

Early afternoon sunlight urged your eyelids to part, and you woke reluctantly, cocooned comfortably in the sheets. Your body ached pleasantly as you stirred, and heat rose in your cheeks as the night before came back to you. Squeezing your thighs together briefly, you finally opened your eyes properly. The warmth in your face increased as your gaze focused on the expanse of Clint’s thigh, the tanned skin only interrupted by the dark cotton of his boxer briefs.

He was sitting up against the headboard, his chest still bare, his hand wrapped around the coffee cup balanced on the thigh closest to you. The scent of it teased at your sleep-addled senses, and you groaned softly. His gaze had been fixed blankly across the room, a furrow between his brows, but at your stirring he turned his attention towards you.

“You’re awake.”

“Looks that way,” you mumbled, your voice rough from the night before.

It was so worn after what you’d done only hours ago, and the memory of your eyes rolling back as Clint’s mouth had found the side of your neck made butterflies rise in your stomach. His mouth on your throat had meant that he’d felt your moan build before it even escaped you, and his teeth had grazed over your pulse point. Even then, the sound had been hoarse, torn and desperate as his hands had tightened on your waist and his cock had filled you again.

You cleared your throat in an attempt to both improve your voice and draw your own attention back from what you’d done the night before. “…And you’re still here.”

You regretted the words as soon as you said them, but a self-deprecating smirk touched Clint’s lips. “Yeah.”

Face still tucked against the pillow, you nodded towards the mug in his hand. “Is there any more of that?”

“Behind you.”

You rubbed at your eye, holding the sheet against your chest as you rolled over to find another mug sitting on the bedside table. Smiling, you pushed yourself up as you picked it up, leaning on your elbow as you turned back to him and took a grateful sip.

And immediately grimaced. “It’s cold.”

“Yep,” he replied simply, taking your cup and setting both his and yours on the table on his side of the bed. “But it was a nice gesture about half an hour ago.”

You breathed a quiet laugh through your nose, playing with the edge of the blanket as you lay back against the pillows again. Somehow, despite his attention being in his lap, the light of day had you feeling much more exposed than before. “So, uh… how long exactly have you been awake?”

Clint shrugged a shoulder noncommittedly. His hair was still mussed – from sleep and the way you’d carded your fingers through it – and you swallowed as you noticed the red lines marking his shoulders and arms. “A while.”

“Clint.” you said guardedly. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Hmm? Yeah.” he nodded distractedly. His tone sounded light but you could hear the way he forced it. His hand moved towards you for a moment as though he was about to touch yours reassuringly, but it returned to his lap. Clint’s voice dropped further, and the tired note in his tone had nothing to do with how much sleep he’d missed. “Yeah. ‘Course I did.”

You sighed heavily at his tone, sitting up and turning your back to him. “Right.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not doing this again, Clint.” you said, shaking your head and turning your eyes to the ceiling. “I can’t do this again.”

“I…” Clint pushed himself up straighter against the headboard, his brow furrowed as he searched for a response.

You pressed your lips together, closing your eyes as you forced back the nerves climbing in your chest. Your tone turned gentle but firm. “I know what you’re going through, Barton. I know it’s something I… that I can’t even pretend to understand. And while I’m here for you, I really, truly am… I can’t do this.”

You picked up the first shirt within reach – his – and pulled it over your head before turning around to face him. The worn, thin cotton did next to nothing to build your confidence, but it was easier to get the words out while not completely naked. Still, you felt goosebumps rise on your exposed skin as you met his eye.

God, you’d left a hickey on the side of his neck.

“I can’t be doing… this—” you gestured to the mess of sheets between you. “—with someone when they’re not here with me.”

There was something unreadable in his eyes. “I am—”

“You’re not, though.” you said, resigned. “You’re really not.”

He stopped, swallowing as his eyes fell towards the mattress. When you’d turned to face him, you’d leaned on your hand, your fingers curled in the sheets a few inches from his own. Maybe you saw his hand move forward… maybe… but you stood, stepping back away from the bed before his hand could make contact with yours.

You met his eyes, teeth digging into your bottom lip. His shirt barely brushed against your thighs, a scare inch or so of thin fabric protecting your modesty. You really should have waited to have this conversation until after you’d put on pants. “Yeah, maybe you stayed this time, but… did you really want to?”

Clint’s gaze remained on his hand, and you sighed, rounding the bed towards the bathroom.

“I did.”

You stopped mid-step, folding your arms around your middle.

“I…” Clint exhaled. “I wanted to… I want…”

You heard him shift on the mattress, and you turned around as he swung his legs off the side of it. He ran a hand through his hair, fingers fisting in at the nape of his neck for a moment before his hand fell back to his lap.

“I felt… I feel guilty. Being with you.” he explained, his voice quiet. He waved a hand back towards the sheets. “Being with you like this. It’s like I’m… betraying Laura.”

“Clint…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say the rest of the sentence.

She’s gone.

“I know,” he said, swallowing thickly. You watched his adam’s apple bob in his throat. “I know she’s… but it’s not just that it feels like cheating, it’s…” he met your eye again, and you almost broke in your resolve. “When I’m with you… when I’m close to you, I… I don’t feel so bad.”

“And that’s…?”

“It’s wrong, Y/N.” he sighed, his gaze falling again. Like looking at you was… tempting? Painful? “And I can’t feel that way. I can’t forget them like that.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled slowly before moving towards him again. Kneeling in front of him, you forced him to meet your eye again You wanted to touch his cheek, but you felt your hand shake. Instead, you reached out to where his hands were clasped tightly together in his lap, covering them both with your palm.

“I understand, Clint.” you said softly. “I do. But I can’t keep doing this if all it is is a moment of weakness for you. I can’t be something you regret.”

“…Are you leaving?”

You shook your head, withdrawing your hand. “No. I’m not leaving. But I’m taking this – what we did, what we’ve been doing – off the table. I’m putting distance back between us. No more blurred lines – it’s confusing for both of us. If you can find a way for you to…” you stood, taking a step back. “Until you can let yourself feel whatever you’re feeling for me without… I’ll keep my distance, okay?”

There was a long moment between you as your words sunk in, but finally, Clint nodded.

“Okay.” you forced a small smile onto your face. “I’m going… I need a shower. Don’t disappear, okay?”

He nodded again, and you could feel his eyes on you as you finally retreated to the safety of the adjacent room.

As soon as the door was closed, you leaned back against it, closing your eyes. This was the right decision. It was. But a very loud part of you was screaming at you to turn around and tell him that you were taking it back.

The mirror hung on the wall opposite you, and your gaze lingered on the litany of evidence of your night together. The mussed hair, the light pattern of bruises on the side of your neck that continued down beneath his shirt. His shirt…

“Fuck…” you muttered to yourself, pulling it off and tossing it aside. Your eyes caught the mark he’d left on the swell of your left breast and you turned away, slamming the handle for hot water as far as it would go.

This was the right decision.

Right?

***

The tension in the apartment was heavy when you’d finally pulled yourself away from the shower’s scalding spray, but Clint had mercifully vacated your bedroom by the time you’d come back out. You’d tried to pull on the first clothes you could find, wincing as the burn on your back pulled against your skin. You should have asked Clint to re-dress it, but apparently, you’d used up all your confidence before you’d showered. So, instead you’d spent twenty minutes haphazardly taping a new patch of gauze over the burn with your back to the mirror and found a tank top that was cut low enough the back to not snag any of the tape you might not have reached to push down against your skin.

You’d tried to ignore the clothes still scattered across the carpet in your room, ignore the scent of sex still clinging to the mess of sheets. You stripped them from the mattress, tossing them into the corner and sat down, taking a shuddering breath.

Well… fuck.

You’d given him an ultimatum.

Just how quickly was it going to come around and bite you in the ass?

You’d left the apartment with the claim that you needed to pick up more supplies; Clint had nodded, his back to you as he poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. “Okay.”

That had been four hours ago, and all you had to show for your time gone was a paltry bag of medical supplies and a couple of sandwiches from a nearby gas station. Sighing heavily, you unlocked the door, the hooks of expectation digging deeper into your flesh as you were suddenly sure that you’d find him gone.

Again.

The apartment was much in the same state in which you’d left it, and you felt something in you release as you saw Clint’s gear still propped up near the kitchen counter. Your shoulders loosened, and you ran a hand through your hair. He was still here.

You barely made it a few more steps before a noise suddenly came from behind the wood of his bedroom door; the muffled sound of something shattering and a pained groan. The bag fell from your fingertips immediately, and you summoned a sphere of psychokinetic energy to burn against the palm of your hand.

“Clint?”

Your voice came too softly, and you cleared your throat as you approached his door, the energy in your hand swelling to the size of a baseball.

“Clint?”

“Y/N…” the response was quiet and strained, a low groan, and anxiety sunk its talons further between your ribs. Sparks danced down over your wrist, your other hand clutching the door handle and pushing it slowly open.

The room was dim, curtains drawn against what was left of the early evening light; your eyes adjusted quickly, and you released the energy with a sigh despite the worry still knitting your brow. Clint was in bed, sheets tangled around his legs and a lamp broken on the hardwood floor beside him, a casualty from the bedside table.

He whimpered, turning in his sleep, his brow furrowed and his hand fisting in the sheet. Frowning, you hurried to his side, reaching out to touch his shoulder as he rolled towards you.

“Clin—”

You broke off suddenly as Clint’s eyes snapped open, his hand grabbing your outstretched arm by the wrist in a painfully tight grip. His other hand moved so quickly you barely saw it, a knife clutched in his fist. You reacted in the same moment, a shield expanding in front of your chest just before the tip of the blade could meet your throat.

Clint blinked, the remnants of sleep slowly clearing from his eyes. The two of you stayed frozen in that tableau, the blue light of your shield casting shadows over the two of you as though you were suspended in water. The archer swallowed heavily, his grip on your wrist easing incrementally.

“Clint?” you repeated softly, twisting your wrist in his hand to touch gentle fingers to his arm. The sensation seemed to bring him back to the surface, drag himself out of where ever his mind had taken him, and you reduced the shield as the knife was lowered back to the mattress. “You with me?”

He nodded slowly, finally releasing your wrist. A dull ache thrummed through it, but you ignored it, kneeling beside the bed and reaching out to carefully ease the knife out of his hand. He let you, his fingers warm against your own before you set the blade on the bedside table.

“You were dreaming,” you explained softly, watching him run a hand through his hair, propping himself up on his other arm. “I didn’t… I didn’t know you were still having dreams like that.”

“Yeah…” he muttered; his voice rough. “It’s easier to keep them to myself when we’re not sharing a Winnebago.”

You frowned, hesitating a moment before reaching up to smooth your hand over his cheek. Clint’s eyes closed briefly at the touch. His hand moved upward, as though to cover yours, but it retreated, curling in the sheets.

“What can I do?”

Clint shook his head, pulling away from your touch. “’m fine.”

“I’m starting to think we should get that tattooed on our foreheads,” you muttered to yourself, noticing the corner of Clint’s lips twitch into a momentary smile. It was tiny, then it was gone. “How much sleep did you actually get last night, Clint?”

He cleared his throat, rubbing his hand over his bare chest. “I don’t know… a couple of hours, maybe.”

You frowned, studying his face, the shadows under his eyes.

“Move over.”

His expression unreadable, Clint did as you asked, pushing himself back on the mattress to make space for you. You straightened, toeing off your boots and shrugging off your jacket before lowering yourself onto the mattress beside him. The bedframe creaked softly under the new weight, and Clint watched you with a kind of careful curiosity as you tried to find a position to settle in.

You finally came to rest stretched out on your side beside him, your face pressed against the pillow. You tried to ignore the way the bed smelled of him. Clint didn’t need to ask what you intended, but he hesitated before moving to mirror your position. He watched your expression with those clever eyes for a long, weighted moment before he moved, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. Warmth rose in your cheeks as he settled his head against your chest, his arm moving down to instead wind around your thighs, banding just below the curve of your backside. His fingers curled against the small of your back. You wrapped an arm around him, trying not to let your mind linger on the warmth of his skin beneath your hand.

“Doesn’t this… what we’re doing right now…” Clint began quietly, as though unwilling to continue the sentence. The warmth of his breath tickled against the base of your throat. “…Doesn’t this violate the whole ‘distance’ rule you put in this morning?”

Your other hand rose to run fingers through his hair carefully, fingertips grazing the nape of his neck. He sighed under your touch. “Will this help you?”

He nodded; his face still buried against your chest. “Yeah… Yeah, it will.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to close your eyes and relax. “Then it’s okay.”

.

.

.

tags:@trekkingaroundasgard@lovely-dreamer19@wittyforachange@wefracturedmotivation@january-echoes@glossyloner@capitalnineteen@youclickedthislink@s0ftness@castieltrash1@drakelover78@queenoftheunderdark@lol-you-thought@akumune@xxboesefrauxx@enna-core@hearmyharmony@katsies@youralphawolf72@maenji@rhymesmenagerie@gwianasky@melaclintbartoncorner@loki-is-loved@whovianayesha@bradfordbantams@alice-the-nerd@fanofallthefics@ace-fandom-dumbass@kaelyn-lobrutto24@twsssmlmaa@earth-pig-fish@meeksmusic83@hallothankmas@justanothermagicalsara@janineb86@darsynia@rhymesmenagerie @thatwelshbi @lauraashley93@darkwhisperswolf

AN: I know I'm a heartless bitch, but I promise they're not done with each other yet.

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #clint barton x you #clint barton x ofc #clint barton x oc #clint barton reader insert #clint barton imagine #clint barton fanfiction #clint barton fanfic #mine: fanfic #hawkeye #hawkeye x you #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye x ofc #hawkeye x oc #hawkeye imagine #hawkeye reader insert #hawkeye fanfiction #hawkeye fanfic #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu reader insert #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

[bigbadripley]

❝ did i say you could speed up? fuck me slowly like a good [chosen term] or i’ll make you stop completely. ❞ and ❝ please let me cum. i’m a good [chosen term]. ❞ Chosen term being bunny, sub being Kate and strapped reader plessss

Take It Slow (18+)

Pairing: Sub!Kate Bishop x Dom!Fem!Reader | Minors DNI!!  ⚠️

Warnings: PWP drabble, strap use, reader's a daddy dom this time

Dom/Sub smut prompts

You had been at it for nearly an hour, watching Kate's ass as she lifted and went back down on your strap, tight pussy swallowing it up so well. Each time she went up, a thicker sheen of her wetness slicked over it. Kate began going faster, searching for relief, but you grabbed her ass quickly to stop her.

"Did I say you could speed up?" You asked snappily, digging your fingertips into the soft doughy cheeks. Kate whimpered and shook her head. "Fuck me slowly like a good little bunny, or I'll make you stop completely." 

Kate continued upward, doing exactly as you said. Her dark hair flowed over her soft back, almost begging for you to tug it, flip her over, fuck her mercilessly, but no, this view was too damn gorgeous. Through her whines, she weaved the word "daddy" over and over. 

"Please let me cum. I'm a good bunny." She pleaded. The painfully slow pace was to keep her from release. 

"I guess you've earned it, haven't you?" You asked rhetorically. "Cum for me, then, and don't forget to tell me how thankful you are." 

In response to your permission, Kate started picking up her pace, quickly rutting the fake cock into her cunt, causing her ass cheeks to clap together. The pitiful whines turned to groans of pleasure as she inched closer to relief. 

"T-thank y-y-ou," She cried just before she started to cum. Her legs shook, and her body quaked over you, finally reaching purchase after denial for so long. She hunched forward and held your knees to steady herself as she came down from her high. 

"Good girl." You praised, watching as the cock slipped out of her glistening hole. "Now let me taste you." 

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop #kate bishop x you #kate bishop smut #smut #marvel #marvel smut #marvel mcu #marvel fanfic #marvel one shot #mcu fic #mcu fanfiction #mcu #hawkeye fanfic #hawkeye fanfiction #hawkeye #mcu x reader #reader insert #x reader #x you #x you smut

[arlana-likes-to-write]

A thank you for saving me

Summary:  Yelena and Kate found you on a mission to free a Widow still under Red Room Control. You soon find yourself in a relationship with the archer and Black Widow but Thanksgiving spent at the Barton's farm makes you worried that your not enough for them. Laura is there to help.

Word Count: 3.6k 

Warnings: Past abuse, torture, mention of Natasha’s death, Reader was with HYDRA, fluff 

The outside world was confusing. It was loud. It was exhausting. But you were grateful to be alive. Yelena and Kate found you in a warehouse in Germany while they were trying to free a Widow. You were tied in a chair; bleeding, bruised, and your arm broken. Well, that was what they told you. You didn’t have memories of how you got there but you woke up in their safehouse. After you healed, you helped them save the Widow that they were after. Once the Widow was saved, Kate invited you to their shared apartment in New York City. That was 9 months ago. For the first time in your life, you had a safe place to live because of that your mind and body began to heal. You remembered that your parents gave you to a man that you met a park. They were after you because of your ability to manipulate sand particles. You were forced to work for the organization. It was hard trying to put all of that behind you but Yelena and Kate were very helpful.

*

You were laying on the couch mindlessly watching the snowfall as you ran your hand through Fanny’s fur. Lucky was laying at your feet. You were the first one awake in the apartment. Truth be told, you awoke from a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep. You heard boards creaking as the other residents in the apartment awake. It was Yelena. She was lighter on her feet than Kate. Fanny didn’t stir when Yelena walked into the living room. “Good morning, dorogy.” You gave her a tired smile. “Another nightmare.” She said, sitting down next to you. You nodded. “Why didn’t you wake us up?” The Russian asked. You shrugged looking back out the window.

“Didn’t want to bother you.” Your voice was rough from disuse. Yelena took your free hand in yours.

“We are here for you.” You nodded. “Do you want to help with breakfast?” She asked. You nodded again. Yelena kissed the back of your hand. You blushed as she stood up and walked into the kitchen. When you first met the archer and the Black Widow you knew right away that they were dating. You didn’t know a lot but picking up clues and body language was part of your training with HYDRA. The relationship between you, the Black Widow, and the archer was new, about 4 months. It was another thing you had to get used to. Fanny whined as you got off the couch and joined the blonde in the kitchen. She handed you a bowl to mix. Pancakes were a go to breakfast food in this apartment.

“When are we leaving for Iowa?” You asked, mixing the batter. For Thanksgiving, the Bartons invited Yelena and Kate to their home. The invite extended to you, which you were a little nervous about.

“We are leaving at 5.” You nodded, passing the bowl to Yelena.

“Are you sure you're okay with going?” She asked. “We can have Thanksgiving here.” You shook your head.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll be okay.” You didn’t want to change your girlfriend’s plan because you were a little anxious to go somewhere new and meet new people. You heard Kate walk around and downstairs. The dogs immediately ran over to her to say good morning. She gave them equal amounts of attention before making her way to the kitchen.

“Good morning,” she said, kissing you and Yelena on the cheek. She turned on the coffee pot. Coffee wasn’t for you but both of your girlfriends loved it. Once the coffee was on, she came back and wrapped her arms around your waist, resting her head on your shoulder. “How did you sleep?” She asked. You knew you couldn’t lie because Yelena knew the truth. The Black Widow turned her back to use the stovetop. You sighed,enjoying the feeling of her arms around you.

“I had a nightmare,” you mumbled. “I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up.” You felt her shake your head against you.

“You’re okay. I’m proud of you for even telling us.” You smiled, even though she couldn’t see it.

“Breakfast is ready.” Yelena said. “Break it up you two.” Kate let go of you and you turned around to see the archer roll her eyes. “Can you grab the syrup, solntse (sun)?” Yelena asked. You nodded, opening the fridge and grabbed the syrup. You joined your girlfriends at the table as they told you about Barton’s Farm. You were excited but your nerves were all over the place.          

*

You determined that Thanksgiving was the strangest holiday, all in the name of some guy that killed and conquered a bunch of people. According to Lila, it was more about family than the history behind it. The Bartons were nice and welcomed you into the family without hesitation. Nathaniel was fascinated with your ability and wouldn’t leave your side. Once food was eaten, you helped Laura with the dishes. You joined the rest in the living room. Kate and Yelena were on the couch and sat on the floor in front of them. Right away Nat sat on your lap. “Squirt, leave the poor girl alone.” Clint said to his youngest.

“I don’t mind.” You smiled, taking off the necklace you had. It was a gift but you weren’t sure who gave it to you. He held out his hand and you dumped the sand in his palm. “What do you want?” You asked.

“A star,” Lila said before her brother could answer. You nodded, waving your hand over the sand. The particles began to move and you carefully crafted the sand into a star. Once it was solid, you flew the star around the living room and around Lila. You brought the sand back to his hand. The next hour was filled with requests and you were happy to fulfill them because for once your powers were used to make people laugh instead of hurting them.

*

A nightmare woke you up. You quietly got out of the bed but you heard Kate wake up. “Where are you going?” She asked, her voice low from sleep.

“Just the bathroom,” you whispered, pushing some hair behind her ear. “Go back to sleep.” She nodded, closing her eyes. It wasn’t a total lie. You went to the bathroom first to splash cold water on your face. You wanted to go back to bed and curl up against your girlfriends. But you knew you’d slip back into another nightmare and you didn’t have the energy for that. Plus the room felt too small. On quiet feet, you walked down the stairs and into the living room. You walked over to the boxes that Laura had Clint bring down. Laura wanted to decorate for Christmas. Christmas, another holiday you didn’t understand.

You opened the top box and found old Christmas pictures. It was dated last year, the year Yelena and Kate met. The archer and Black Widow told you their story. You flipped through a few of the photos, most only having the small Barton Family. Until you came across a patch with a new addition. Someone you only met through stories. Natasha. You smiled as you looked through the photos. They all seemed happy.

“I wondered when you’d be up.” The sudden voice caused you to drop the photos and turn around with a quiet yelp. The mother of 3 was standing there with a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you want some tea?” She asked, walking to the kitchen. It took a minute for your brain to register her sudden appearance but you followed her into the kitchen.

“How did you know I was going to be up?” You asked, sitting down. She placed two cups on the kitchen island while the water boiled.

“You aren’t the first person to be plagued by their past to be brought into this home.” She put tea bags into the mugs. “And something tells me you won’t be the last.” You smiled

“Your family does seem to attract strays.” She playfully rolled her eyes.

“Don’t remind me.” She poured the boiling water over the tea bags and set out sugar and honey. “So a nightmare.” She guessed. You nodded, mixing in some honey in your tea. “Do you want to talk about it?” Did you? Kate and Yelena always asked you about them.

“I don’t know how.” You whispered. You stared into the tea. “Kate and Yelena want me to talk about it and I try but this is all new to me.”

“What is?” She questioned. You were quiet for a moment. Most of the times you don't remember the nightmares that plagued you at night, only the feeling.

“A family.” you said. “People that care about me.” You sighed, shaking your head. “Sometimes I think I don’t deserve them. They’ve done so much for me and I feel like I’ve done nothing for them.” They saved you. They gave you a home in the city. They showed you everything you missed.

“Have you ever thought they don’t want anything from you?” Laura asked softly. “They just want you and that’s enough for them.”

“What if that won’t be enough one day?” You voiced your fears. “What if one day they really see what I am?” You shook your head. “Then I’ll have nothing all over again. I want to do something for them.”

“And what are you?” You didn’t answer. You were a lot of things. A killer. A monster. Hell your own parents gave you away because they didn’t want you anymore. Laura sighed. “If you want to do something for them, maybe I can help you plan a Christmas outing.” You perked up at them.

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, here’s the plan…”

*

Phase 1: Decorations and Christmas Tree

Laura said the first part of the plan needed to be timed carefully. It had to happen before December 3rd because of Natasha’s birthday. So you decided on the 1st, the day after you got back from the Barton’s. You woke up early, made a fresh pot of coffee, and began getting the Christmas decorations they’ve collected. You didn’t trust yourself in the kitchen so you figured you could go out for breakfast, something you’ve never done. You went back upstairs to your shared bedroom. Yelena woke up from the door opening. You gave her a smile and slipped back into bed behind her. “You are in a good mood.” She mumbled. You buried your face in her neck.

“I thought we could go out and get breakfast then maybe pick out a Christmas tree and decorate the apartment before Kate leaves.” The archer was assigned a mission while you were in Iowa, leaving tomorrow. Yelena rolled over on her back to look up at you.

“That sounds wonderful, solntse.” She paused. “That’s a lot of social interaction, are you going to be okay?” You really hated how caring they were.

“I’m the one who suggested it. I’ll be fine. Now,” you kissed her cheek. “Go get ready. I made coffee.” Yelena smiled and got out of bed. You turned your attention to the archer. You cuddled up against her back. “Katie, wake up.” She groaned, burrowing her head deeper into the pillow. “Come on, we got a Christmas filled day.” She opened her eyes at the mention of Christmas.

“Christmas.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes Christmas but you have to get up.” She groaned.

“Fine since a pretty girl is telling me to get out of bed.” You blushed, slapping her on her chest.

“You are such a dork.”

*

Kate decided on bagels for breakfast. It was quick and easy so you could make it your next destination, a Christmas tree farm. Yelena held your hand as you walked through the pine trees. Kate led the way since she was the only one that had any real experience of picking a tree. “Why are you doing this?” The Black Widow asked. You looked at her.

“I’m not doing anything.” You said. It was mostly Kate that planned your outings. “I just wanted to have a fun day with you guys.” Before Yelena could say anything, Kate called out, “Hey guys, what about this one?” You dragged Yelena to where Kate was.

“Good pick malen'kiy yastreb (little hawk).” Yelena said, kissing Kate on the side of the head. The archer looked at you.

“It’s perfect.”

*

You and Yelena were in charge of getting the tree into the apartment while Kate ran to the store for a surprise. You set up the tree and Yelena started the batter for sugar cookies. “What do you think Kate is getting at the store?” You asked as you pet Lucky. Yelena sighed.

“You never know with her.” You laughed and went into the kitchen. You helped cut the dough into shapes and put the cookies into the oven when the door opened. Kate was wearing a Santa hat and carrying shopping bags in her arms. You went to help her as the dogs ran to greet her.

“What did you get?” You asked. She snatched the bags out of your hands.

“It’s a surprise.” Her surprise was plaid matching PJ sets for you, Yelena, her, and the dogs. Once everyone was dressed, the tree and apartment was decorated and the cookies were made. Kate even bought you a stocking while at the store. Everything was done and you were exhausted. Home Alone 2 was on the TV as you laid on the couch, your head rested in Yelena’s lap. Her fingers running through your hair lured you to sleep.

“Today was good,” Kate said.

“Yeah,” Yelena whispered, looking down at you. “It was.”

*

Phase 2: Dealing with Grief

Dec 3rd, 2026  

You were home alone with the dogs all day. Kate was on a mission and Yelena was well you weren’t sure where she was. She left early in the morning and turned off her phone. You worked on their Christmas gifts, played with the dogs, finished a few books that you started but still your mind was on the Black Widow. You even called Laura and she talked you off the edge. It was 10:30 when the apartment door opened and the Black Widow walked in. Fanny was the first to greet her. You stood up from the couch watching as Yelena petted the American Akita. She closed the door. “I was worried about you.” You finally said. She took off her winter jacket and hung it up.

“I can take care of myself.” She said, walking into the kitchen. She opened the fridge, pulled out a bottle of vodka, and began to drink straight from it. Patient. It was the advice Laura gave you when dealing with an emotional Black Widow.

“I know you can,” you said. “You're the strongest person I know.” She stopped at your words for a second but she continued to drink. “But you don’t have to be strong alone. I’m here.” The Russian stared at you as you walked over to her.

“I’m fine.” She said.

“The drinking straight from the bottle says otherwise.” You said, putting your hand on top of hers. “You have been there for me every step of the way; the good, the bad, the ugly.” Her bottom lip started to quiver. “Let me be there for you.” She didn’t say anything. “Please.”

“I miss her so much.” You nodded as her green eyes started to fill with tears.

“I know you do.” You said, pulling her into a hug. She cried against your shirt. You brought her down to the kitchen floor and rested your back on the counter. You held your girlfriend as she cried and cried. Soon her breathing evened out and you looked down to see her eyes closed, her fist gripping onto your shirt. You smiled and let her sleep.

*

Phase 3: Ice Skating and Christmas lights

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how busy will Bryant Park be?” You asked, looking up from the book you were reading.

“About 25.” Kate said. She was finishing a mission report for Sam. You thought about it. Your choices were Central Park or Bryant Park. You’ve been to Central Park already and you wanted to see the Christmas village set up in Bryant. But you did not want to deal with crowds. You sighed.

“Do you guys want to go?” You asked. Yelena stopped working on her Widow Bites.

“What?” She questioned. You put your bookmark in the spine and stood up, stretching your back.

“Yeah, let’s go!” You said. “Apparently, it’s the place to be in New York City for Christmas.” Kate closed her laptop.

“Are you sure you want to go?” You weren’t but you nodded.

“Yup!” You smiled, popping the ‘p’. “Let’s go.” You missed the way Yelena and Kate looked at each other as you ran upstairs to change.

*

It was busy. Maybe not a level 25 but a 16. You held on tight to Kate as you voiced your want to go ice skating. The weather was a little overcast so the ice wasn’t as busy. “Have you ever gone ice skating?” Kate asked as you sat on a bench to put on your skates. You nodded.

“Once for a HYDRA assignment.” You said. “I went on a date with a scientist they were interested in.” Yelena put a confronting hand on your shoulder. “They had me kill him after the 3rd date.” You rarely opened up about your missions with HYDRA.

“We’ll make better memories today.” And you did. You spent hours on the ice and at the park. You drank your weight in hot chocolate and eat just as many sweets. After you were done, you walked the streets of New York to look at the Christmas lights. You were buzzing with sugar running through your veins. But you were happy.

*

Christmas Eve

Yelena knew something was off with you. She was happy that you were leaving your comfort zone of the apartment but she was hoping it was for the right reasons. The plan was to spend Christmas in the city this year. The Barton's and Alexei and Melina were visiting. But tonight it was a quiet night. You were upstairs getting dressed while Yelena and Kate were putting the final touches on dinner. “Should we say something?” Kate asked. The Russian sighed.

“I think we need to.” Kate nodded. “I’ll take the lead.”

“Probably for the best.” The archer admitted. Yelena smiled as you walked into the kitchen. You were wearing a red dress with black leggings. “Whoa.” Kate mumbled.

“You look beautiful, solntse.” You blushed.

“Thank you.” You helped set the table. Dinner was amazing and desert was a simple cheesecake. After everything was cleaned up, presents were passed around. Christmas Day was going to be busy. You got Yelena a new vest and knife with the Russian words yubov', zdorov'ye, and schast'ye which translated to love, health, and happiness. For Kate, you got her a necklace with a bow and new arrow heads. They got you new books to add to your collection, two new sweatshirts because you were always stealing theirs, and a new locket to hold the sand.

“Solntse,” Yelena said, once you returned from changing out of the dress into one of the new sweatshirts. “Is there something you want to talk to us about?” The sudden question made you freeze.

“Yeah because you were different this month, not a bad different.” Kate added quickly. The Black Widow glared at the archer.

“We just want to make sure your okay.” Yelena clarified. She watched you play with the string. Finally, you sighed.

“It was hard.” You admitted. “But I did it all for you two.”

“Why?” Kate questioned. “We would have been happy just sitting in the apartment.” You throw your arms to the side.

“Exactly for that reason,” you said. “Sometimes I don’t think I deserve you guys.” You sat down on the couch with a huff. Yelena and Kate walked over to you, hoping you would continue on your own. “You guys literally saved my life and I look at everything you’ve done for me and I compare it to what I do for you; it doesn’t add up.”

“You don’t have to do anything for us.” Yelena said.

“You just being here and healing is enough.” You frowned.  

“What if I when one day that’s not enough and I lose you?” Your voice cracked at your confession. “I can’t lose you. I-” you paused, letting out a shaky breath. “I love you both too much to let you go.” It was the first time you said those 3 words.

“We aren’t going anywhere, okay?” Kate said, grabbing your hand and Yelena’s. Yelena took yours to complete the ring. “It’s us three against the world.” You finally smiled.

“You are a light, solntse. It’s why I call you sun. Never doubt that for a second.” Yelena said, squeezing your hand. “And I love you too.”

“I love you.” Kate said, bring you into a hug. You ended up falling backwards onto the couch, laying mostly on Kate. But the archer didn’t seem to mind. “You are stuck with us. I sincerely apologize.” You laughed, hiding your face in her neck.

“Merry Christmas.” Yelena said.

“Merry Christmas.” You smiled. You remembered what Laura said to you after you planned all of this, ‘All of your life you’ve experienced pain and everything given to you had a double meaning. But Kate and Yelena love you. And that love has no double meaning. That love is special and you should cherish it forever.’    

#yelena belova x you #yelena belova x reader #Kate Bishop x you #kate bishop x reader #yelena belova x kate bishop #yelena belova x kate bishop x reader #black widow fanfiction #black widow one shot #black widow imagine #hawkeye imagine #hawkeye one shot #hawkeye fanfiction #Marvel AU #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot

[ynscrazylife]

Kate x teen sister yes yes yesssss okay I don’t really have the best ideas but I second you writing something for that so I’m going to give it a shot and suggest maybe like maybe her sister tries being superhero-like to get kates attention bc she’s been so busy getting into the hero world but like reader obvs isn’t prepared for that kinda stuff and then yeah Kate helps them out from a risky situation and then it’s all nice (albeit a bit of a rant from Kate abt her sisters irresponsibility) and sisterly resolved! Yeah again I’m not good with ideas and don’t usually rec but I love Kate Bishop too much to let it pass

Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary: Your big sister Kate comes to the rescue when your attempt in being a vigilante gets you in trouble.

Warning: Reader gets captured and beat up (not too descriptive)

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

Jealousy was an infectious, suffocating disease . . . And unfortunately, you had caught it.

As much as you tried to help it, over the years, jealousy over older sister had seeped in and invaded you over the years. It was subtle, silent, at first but lately, it was attacking with full force and twisting up your insides. By now you were aware of it, and knew it wasn’t good, but what was there to do about it? You were jealous. It was a fact.

Jealous that she had become a star archer, could fence so well, was a master in martial arts, and got to go off to that fancy, expensive college. You were pretty good at martial arts too, as Kate needed a partner to practice with at home when you guys were younger, but not as good as her. Other than that, you were pretty average at everything else, at least, in your mind, that is.

All this jealously spilled out one day when you were visiting your mother in prison and were updating her on your life. You hadn’t spoken to Kate since finding out she had gotten your mother arrested. She tried to explain, but you were too overwhelmed, too shocked, to listen.

You were recounting to her how of course Kate had become a superhero and was working with the one and only Hawkeye when she interrupted with: “You can be a hero, too, honey.” Her voice was sweet, a little too sweet, but you didn’t pick up on that — wouldn’t notice it until later.

This made you stop and blink. “What?” You asked dumbly.

Eleanor smiled. At the time . . . It seemed sincere. “You want to be a hero, do you not?” She asked with an innocent shrug.

You couldn’t deny that the idea had run through your mind. That kind of job must not only be exhilarating, but also rewarding—getting to help people, change the world, and work with other heroes. Work with Kate. Get closer to her. It was the perfect opportunity to bond with her, though you shoved that feeling aside. Why did you have to be the one to reach out to Kate? To get her attention? Couldn’t she reach out to you?

Your mom always had a knack for knowing what you were thinking. “Maybe,” you admitted, suddenly feeling small. You didn’t think anything of it and just wrote it off as anxiety.

“You can be a hero, Y/N . . . You can help me. It’s horrible in here, honey. You can free me,” Eleanor said, moving closer to the glass separating the two of you and putting her hand against it.

You furrowed your eyebrow in confusion, but mirrored her action. “How?” You asked. It never occurred to you that you could help your mom.

“I’ll give you the number of the woman I’ve been working for, Valentina. She could use a smart agent like you. Do some good for her and then . . . You can get Valentina to get me outta here. She’s a little unhappy with me right now, but I know you can show her that none of it was my fault,” Eleanor exclaimed.

It was intriguing — but something felt off. The name Valentina . . . It was familiar. “I think Kate said—” You began.

“Kate’s confused,” Eleanor intervened, a little sharply. When she saw you start to pull back, she quickly continued. “She’s misguided. So is Hawkeye. They misunderstood our work. Valentina can show you—how her agents have helped people. Tell her I sent you.”

If she wasn’t your mother, if she was anyone else, you’d be more suspicious than you were. But you were inclined to trust her, she was your mother. And you and Kate didn’t really get along. So you decided to give it a shot, see if Valentina was really helping people or not.

Of course, when you contacted her, the lies spilled off her tongue so quickly and easily. The proof she showed you — it was an elaborate web of fakes. You were being manipulated, although you didn’t know it at the time, by both your mom and Valentina. You were convinced that you could help both her and innocent people, so you started doing missions for her . . . Which is how you ended up captured by Kingpin’s allies.

You were sitting, tied to a chair with your wrists and ankles handcuffed and duct tape over your mouth, glaring at your captor who was holding your phone. “Let’s see how much you mean to them, dear,” the man mocked, and then proceeded to dial Valentina’s number.

On the last ring, she picked up. “Did you do it?” Valentina asked neutrally.

You watched the man like a hawk as he brought the phone to his lips. “We’ve captured your little agent,” he said gleefully in a sing-song voice.

Your glare sharpened and you heard Valentina curse. “Let’s say . . . 25 grand?” The man said.

You were sure that Valentina had the money, so imagine your surprise when all she did was scoff. Your gaze shifted to the phone, missing how the smile on the man’s mouth grew wider.

“You think I’m going to pay that amount of money for a rookie agent who got herself captured?” Valentina could clearly be heard saying. There was some shuffling, as if she was moving the phone, and then she muttered to someone nearby, making you strain to listen: “I knew she’d never make it if I had to make her believe that she was saving helpless people.”

You could barely believe your ears as you were forced to listen to Valentina mock you, eyes wide and cheeks burning in embarrassment. The man, though, he loved this. He was eating it up.

“You lied to her, then? To recruit her, I suppose?” He guessed, keeping his eye trained on you. You could feel his taunting glare and it just fueled the burning fire inside you.

“It’s none of your business,” Valentina snapped, before forcing a breath. “Look, the girl knows jack shit about me so there’s no use in questioning her—” She laughed. “—just have your fun with her and dump her somewhere, alright? I have no time for this, I’ll get what I want from you another way.”

“We already knew you were interested in us when you sent the girl here — but openly admitting it? That’s bold, especially with who our boss is,” the man said, not paying attention to you anymore.

“Kingpin’s dead, everyone knows that,” Valentina said, and then laughed again. “Have fun with your toy. I know I did, while it lasted.”

With that she hung up, having no clue that you heard all of this. Meanwhile, your mind was reeling . . . How could she give you up like this? What did she mean by you knowing “jack shit”? She told you a lot about herself and her business . . . Unless it was all lies . . .

You let out a muffled, angry scream through the duct tape. You had had an inkling that something was off with your mother’s story — especially about Kate being confused and misguided — since the beginning. Hell, you had been weary of her ever since she had been arrested, as you never knew the full reason why. You had never wanted to know, you still clung to hope that your mother was who she says she is, that your world wouldn’t be thrown upside down like Kate’s was.

Well, now it was definitely on a rollercoaster. Everything was shattering into tiny pieces that you weren’t sure you could put back together, and all you could do was blame yourself. God, you felt so stupid, so useless.

The dread set in when you looked up from where you had been staring at the floor and the man was walking towards you, still smiling like the Cheshire Cat. No one was coming for you.

“We’re gonna have some fun, darling,” he sneered.

It was hours later when you started to hear crashes and bangs. You looked up at the door curiously — what was going on? Who was here? You got answer when the door burst down and, to your surprise, two purple-clad heroes entered.

“Y/N!” Kate cried, immediately running over to you. She removed the tape from your mouth and then undoing your bindings. Clint stood at the doorway, watching silently.

Your eyes widened and you ignored the sting on your lips. God, you never thought you’d be so happy to see her. “Kate . . . How did you know I was here?” You asked — confused, but grateful.

“A friend of ours used to work with Valentina — she has connections and, uh, ways of discovering things,” Kate answered cryptically. Honestly, you didn’t really care about how she found you.

“She lied to me,” you mumbled, shifting your gaze to your lap, embarrassed. “Mom told me that by working with Valentina, I could help people . . . Help her. They both lied to me.”

Kate’s heart broke as she listened to you. Despite your strained relationship, she was your big sister. She’d always look out for you. “Yeah . . . I’m sorry you had to find out the hard way,” she murmured softly, petting your hair to soothe you.

Your gaze slowly found Kate’s. You had expected her to be mad at you for falling for this, but instead all you saw were tears and regret. “I wanted to be a hero like you,” you admitted, shaking your head in disbelief. “I was stupid to think that I could do that.”

“Hey, you can be a hero, Y/N. You just need the right training. Clint helped me become a hero and now . . . We can help you,” Kate assured you.

You just shrugged, still caught up in Valentina’s words. Kate decided to let it go for now, as the last thing you needed was to feel like she was persuading you into something.

“I can already tell you’re a great kid, like your sister. You were brave even to go up against these guys. Let us help you, okay?” Clint said in a soft tone he’d usually use with his kids.

You nodded slowly and Kate smiled warmly. She wrapped her arm around you, supporting most of your weight. Clint came to your other side and they both helped you walk out of there.

You knew it wouldn’t be easy to repair your relationship with Kate, but at least it was a start. You were safe with her and Clint and found yourself leaning into her. She cared for you. She loved you. And you loved her. She was family—your big sister, your protector.

“Thank you, Katie,” you murmured to her as the three of you walked out.

“No need to, Y/N/N,” Kate said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll always be here to save you.”

And so it began — the green envy started to seep away.

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