#clint barton x ofc

[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

[ana-swritings]

Kinktober 2022

Hello, my lovelies.

I'm a little behind on this year's Kinktober but here we go. I'll be posting all 4 days today and here is day 1 to start.

Hope you enjoy them. Stay kinky my lovelies. :)

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Day 1 of Kinktober

Kink: Lingerie

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Clint Barton (Hawkeye) x OFC (Khloe)

Words: 732

T.W.: N/A

Summary: Welcome Home

Another day, another mission. Thankfully, this one was pretty short: a good old terrorist hunting. But by the time the sun was coming down, Clint was already landing on his farm and making his way to the house, anxious to see his girlfriend, Khloe.

Clint walked into the house, placing his bow and arrows by the door as he walked in, calling out to Khloe. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs and looked up, a smile on his face. What he saw was enough to make the blood flush to his cheeks and “down south”.

Khloe was now standing halfway down the stairs, wearing nothing but a black lace lingerie set that let little to nothing to the imagination. Clint heard her ask him if he liked it, but he was too busy picking his jaw off the floor to answer, making Khloe laugh at his expression.

Now, this wasn’t the first time Clint had seen Khloe naked, but this? This was different. There she was, wearing basically nothing and obviously enjoying the effect she was having on him. Taking a little turn so he could see how the lingerie set hugged her curves and cupped her breasts and ass perfectly, she smirked at him, still waiting for an answer.

Clint was getting harder by the second. The more he looked, the harder he would get, the more he wanted her. He tried looking away at first, but the lust and desire he felt for her made it impossible. He examined every inch of her body, from the way the straps of the corset laid gently on her shoulders; or how her breasts seemed to want to jump out of their confinement; to the way her body got even more defined by that little ensemble. Everything about that moment was driving him insane and it was clear to him that Khloe was aware of it.

He was brought back to reality by Khloe’s voice. She had asked him something, but he didn’t know what. Focusing on her face instead of her body, he saw that evil smirk of hers. The one she would use whenever she would flirt with him and knew she would get her way. That’s when Clint heard her. “Like what you see?”. Such a simple question, yet it was all it took for Clint to finally move.

Taking quick strides towards her, he grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her with a hunger he didn’t know he had. Their lips moved in sync, his hands now all over her body as hers were doing the same on his. Clint grabbed her ass and pulled her up, her legs wrapping themselves around his waist, while his lips kissed her neck and nibbled on her sweet spot, making her moan his name. Pinning her against the nearest wall, Clint felt her rubbing herself against him, making him growl her name. Her hand traveled down to his pants and pulled his cock out, stroking it up and down, almost sending him over the edge. Brushing her hand away, he moved her lacy panties to the side and pushed himself inside of her hard, making her scream his name in pleasure. Clint gave her just enough time to adjust to him and began to thrust hard and fast. He quickly found that the harder he would thrust, the louder she would get, moaning his name and begging him not to stop.

It didn’t take long for both of them to reach their peaks, a chorus of moans and names being the last sounds heard in the house. They were both out of breath but completely satisfied. Clint pulled out and gently set Khloe on the stairwell, before going down to the kitchen and retrieving a wet cloth so she could clean up. After making sure she was okay, he held her close and kissed her passionately.

Clint eventually got up again and grabbed two waters from the kitchen before making his way back to the stairs, handing one to Khloe before drinking his in one go. In his mind, he was replaying what had just happened, just as he felt Khloe getting up, pulling him up with her and making her way to the bedroom. Looking back at the stairs, a thought crossed his mind. “We’re definitely doing that again.”, he thought just as they walked in the bedroom.

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Hope you enjoyed it. :)

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#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #kinktober challenge #lingerie #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #clint barton #hawkeye #ofc #clint barton x ofc #smut #day one #day 1 #ana's writings

[drstrangefictions]

What If...Clint Barton Spoke Up During the Avengers Meeting?

Chapter one

Clint Barton & Original Female Character

Word Count: 1K+

Spoilers: "Loki" Season 1; "What If...?" Season 1; "i don't want to be saved" fanwork book 1

Basic Warnings + Trigger Warnings: brb crying, Frigg living a normal life??? couldn't be. Or could it?

AO3: Link

Master List || Next Chapter

Frigg sat alone outside of the conference room in the Avengers Tower. She looked over her shoulder and saw a few visible Avengers—Thor was amongst those that she could see. She swallowed hard, being unable to hear what they were discussing about her fate on Midgard. She saw a few Avengers wave their hands as they spoke–mostly Tony and Stephen going back and forth with two Avengers that had their backs to her. She noticed her uncle peer in her direction, but it was hard to tell if he was actually looking at her or at something in her general direction. The redhead (one of the two that had her back to Frigg) peered over her own shoulder and caught the young girl watching the conference. The Avenger quickly looked away from her and leaned toward the Avenger to her left. The Avenger she whispered to looked over his shoulder at Frigg.

Frigg turned away from the conference room and leaned against the glass wall and slowly slide down. Having to sit and wait to hear her undesired fate was a nightmare, it was boring, she would much rather run away and hide from the Avengers and the ants that inhabit this planet—it wasn’t that it was more fun, it was more so that she would be free from what was to come.

The door to the conference room swung open violently and pulled Frigg from her anxious thoughts. She looked up at the individual that stepped out of the room. Tony Peered down at her and walked past her with nothing to say. He held his head high as if he owned the place (and he did). Stephen was the next person to step out of the conference room.

“Don’t take it personally, he doesn’t play well with others.” Was all Stephen could offer her before he followed the bank account of the Avengers to another room.

Slowly, the Avengers filed out of the conference room and to wherever their next destination was. Thor, Natasha, and Clint were the last three to remain in the conference room. She heard Thor’s booming voice explain something to the two other Avengers, however she couldn’t make out what he was explaining to them. She crossed her arms and closed her eyes for what felt like an eternity (in reality it was probably only 15 minutes). The door swung open, and Thor walked past Frigg without giving her a passing glance. Natasha and Clint walked out of the room and stopped in front of her.

“Hey, kiddo.” Clint knelt down and patted her arm. “Did you bring anything here with you when Heimdal dropped you off?” He asked.

She blinked slowly and looked at Clint. It took her a moment to process what he had asked. She slowly shook her head.

Clint nodded. “How about you and Miss Romanoff here go shop around while I make a phone call, okay?”

Frigg furrowed her eyebrows and looked over at Natasha, who offered a small nod. “I’ll go, but I don’t understand what’s going on.” She spoke.

Clint stood up. “We’re going to find you a home.”

“We’re going to use the Stark Industries business credit card to buy everything you ask for.” Natasha said bluntly.

Frigg ran down the stairs. “Mom? Dad? Have either of you seen my headphones?” She hollered.

Laura stepped out of the kitchen while drying her hands with a towel. “I haven’t seen your headphones. Everyone’s outside if you want to go out and ask them.” She motioned to the door. “While you’re out there, tell them that lunch is just about ready.”

Frigg nodded as she walked toward the front door. “Will do!” She pulled the front door open and pushed the screen door. She peered out of the farmhouse and looked around at the open space before her. She stepped out of the house and walked toward the sound of Nathaniel screaming with joy. “Hey! Mom said lunch is almost ready. On an unrelated note, where are my headphones, Lila?”

“Have you checked my room; I may have barrowed them since someone took mine.” Lila said slowly as she focused on the target in front of her and her father. She exhaled slowly and let the string go on her bow, striking the center of the target.

“Bullseye!” Clint cheered quietly.

“I’ll check your room later, I guess. I didn’t want to barge in, that’s rude.” Frigg crossed her arms. “Boundaries and all. You heathens.”

Lila looked behind her and smiled at Frigg. “You get used to being part of the family.”

“If you’re going to fight, get it out before we eat or hold it in until after.” Clint plucked the bow out of Lila’s hand. “You, go grab your brothers; and you, go tell mom we’re just cleaning up.”

Frigg nodded. “You got it.” She spun on her heel and walked toward the front door; she stomped up the stairs and swung the screen door open. She pushed the door in. “They’re coming, they’ve made a mess of the yard and they want to clean it before they come back in.” She walked straight into the kitchen.

“At least they’re cleaning up this time.” Laura laughed to herself. She silently watched Frigg drag herself through the kitchen. “Are you alright?”

Frigg suddenly perked up, as if to erase any idea that she was anything but alright. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just a naturally gloomy looking individual. It doesn’t help that my skin practically looks ghostly. I’m also so tired, I mean, my bags have bags!” She faced Laura and pulled the skin on her face downward, showcasing her eyebags (and her eyebags’ bags). “The only thing I have going for me is my brown hair, imagine how much gloomier I’d be if I had black hair.”

“Frigg…” Laura’s voice trailed.

“What?” Frigg locked eyes with Laura.

Laura gave her a small smile. “I have three kids of my own, two of them are teenagers. You’ve lived here for three years and have been a part of this family for the same amount of time. You might not be human, but you’re still a teenager. Nothing gets past me.”

Frigg looked away. “I suppose you’ve got me there. Everything gets past dad… or maybe he’s just really good at playing oblivious, I mean, he is a spy, isn’t he?” She looked back up. She rubbed the palm of her hand. “I still feel a bit weird about everything, you know? I know it’s been three years since I’ve been here and part of the family. It’s all just strange.” She furrowed her eyebrows and grabbed the stack of plates and utensils.

Laura watched her with a sad smile. “I understand.”

She slowly walked toward the dining room table. “I have no doubt. And I couldn’t be more grateful, I’d hate to know what my life would be like had I not been taken here.”

“Go wash your hands!” Clint hollered at his three kids as they ran into the house. He walked into the kitchen, passing Frigg. “What’s going on here?” He noted her expression.

“We’re just having a rare moment.” Laura said, saving Frigg.

“One of those bonding dealios.” Frigg added.

Clint pursed his lips. “Dealios?” He furrowed his eyebrows and glanced over at Frigg as he washed his hands. “This isn’t about what I think it is right? It’s not a female talk, is it?”

“What’s so bad about one of those talks?” Frigg raised an eyebrow.

“Everything.” Clint scoffed. “What’s really going on?”

Frigg inhaled and raised her shoulders. “Opening up emotionally and all that. I just feel weird about everything is all. It’s been a few years and I should be over it; shouldn’t I be?” She circled the table and placed a plate down in each spot; she circled the table a second time and placed the utensils down by each plate.

Clint walked toward her and pulled one of the chairs out and sat down. He motioned to the chair next to him. “I don’t know what you’ve seen or what you really went through, but if it’s as bad as you told me, you’re going to feel weird.”

Frigg sat down next to Clint. “I suppose that makes sense. Oh! If you four are done making messes outside, can I con you into playing Eels and Escalators with me?”

“Eels and Escalators?” He glanced at Laura, hoping she knew what Frigg was asking him to play.

“You know what I’m talking about. It was in an episode of Spongebob, the one where they were swearing. I’ve been saying they need to make that into a real game for literal years. Nat bought it for me the last time I was in New York with her. I’ve already built the escalators and read the instructions; all I need are people to play with.” She grabbed his wrist and shook his arm. “I don’t ask to do much with you, so, please?”

“We’ll look at it after we eat.” Clint said, grabbing a baking sheet piled high with nachos from Laura and placing it next to his plate. “The other kids got lost, more for us?” He dished himself up and immediately grabbed Frigg’s plate from in front of her and dished her up too.

Frigg smiled. “Isn’t that a bit mean?”

Clint nodded. “Yes.”

As if on cue, Lila, Cooper, and Nathaniel ran down the stairs and slide into their seats. Laura placed salsa and queso down on the table and returned to the kitchen to grab drinks for everyone. Clint slipped out of his chair and dashed into the kitchen to help Laura with drinks. Nathaniel reached over the table and started plucking nachos from Clint’s plate and giggled about it.

Frigg smiled and tapped the table to get Nathaniel’s attention. Once she had his attention, she held up one finger and dragged it in the air. Nathaniel quickly became mesmerized with her magic—she dished him up without touching anything.

“Thank you, Frigg!” Nathaniel shouted.

“Awh, did Frigg dish you up buddy?” Clint asked, walking back over with drinks for himself, Nathaniel, and Frigg. “I wanted to do that.”

Nathaniel looked away, refusing to respond.

“He was just sooooo hungry. You were depriving him of his food!” Frigg pointed at Clint with a soggy chip. “He was going to die!”

Cooper nodded. “So am I, pass the dish.” He held his hands out for the sheet pan.

Frigg grabbed the pan and handed him the pan. “Drama queen.”

“You would know.” Cooper snorted.

Frigg nodded. “Of course, I would, I live with him.”

“Frigg, I have a question for you.” Clint interrupted the sibling bickering. “Would you be interested in really learning how to use your powers?”

Frigg raised an eyebrow. “I know how to use them.”

Clint looked down and pursed his lips. He glanced back up at her. “I mean to be a part of the new generation of heroes. We’ve been thinking about training kids like you, kids with potential to be the next Avengers.”

“Oh.”

“No discussing work at the table.” Laura reminded them.

#clint barton x daughter #clint barton x oc #clint barton x original character #clint barton x ofc #clint barton x original female character #clint barton x loki's daughter #oc insert #original character insert #ofc insert #original female character insert #ao3 link #oc: frigg lokidottir #mcu x oc #mcu x original character #mcu x ofc #mcu x original female character #marvel cinematic universe x oc #marvel cinematic universe x original character #marvel cinematic universe x ofc #marvel cinematic universe x original female character #mcu fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #what if...? x oc #what if...? x original character #what if...? x ofc #what if...? x original female character #what if...? fanfiction #what if...clint barton spoke up during the avengers meeting

[ginabaker1666]

The third part of Bird of A Feather will be posted here and on AO3 tonight. Please remind me if you’d like to be tagged, and you haven’t already.

#Clint Barton x OFC #Gina baker writes #birds of a feather #clint barton fanfiction

[avengerscompound]

The Tower - Under the Table

The Tower - Under the Table

Series Masterlist

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 4585

Warnings:  smut (ten personal bixexual orgy, oral sex, vaginal fingering, anal sex, some use of powers, blindfolds)

Synopsis:  It’s Elly’s birthday, and after dinner the group have their own special kind of party game, one where they find out how well they know each other, and who can keep a good poker face.

Author’s Note:  Long time no update! I’ve been writing really slow at the moment.  But I am still doing these if you have requests.  This one was Requested by bubsanddoll21 on Wattpad. You can send in your requests too.

Takes place between The Tower and The Holiday Special

Under the Table

In the early days of my relationship with the Avengers, it was a rare event that all of us had a meal together at a table.  Ten people at a table felt more like a dinner party than a date.  Sitting around on the couches just felt more familiar and comfortable. So when we did sit down to eat, it was a special occasion.

This one was my birthday.

The others had wanted to do something special, so they decorated the conference room and Bucky, Sam, and Wanda had cooked a large meal.  It was nice and at the point where most of us had finished eating, Tony leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.  “We should have brought some games up with us,” he said.  “I could go a few rounds of Cards Against Humanity right now.”

“I could go down and get something,” Steve offered.

“You’re still eating, Steve,” Wanda said.  “Someone else can go.”

“Or!” Clint said, waggling his eyebrows.  “Or… we could play a different kind of game.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not talking about charades?” Sam asked.

“Because you know me too well, Sammy,” Clint said.  “I saw this thing…”

“What have I told you about watching that stuff on the company wifi?” Tony scolded.

Clint smirked at him.  “To invite you along when I do,” he teased and stuck his tongue out at Tony.  “Anyway, as I was saying; I saw this thing.  Someone gets under the table and starts going down on someone.  And if the person getting blown or eating out gives it away that it’s happening to them, they have to go under the table.  And if someone guesses the wrong person, it’s them.  Like a Blow Job Roulette.”

“Okay, that sounds fun,” I said.  “Can we?” 

There was a murmur around the table, and one by one everyone agreed it sounded like it could be fun.

“Birthday girl goes first,” Sam said.

“Shouldn’t I be the one that gets eaten out first?” I countered. 

“But then we’d all know it was you, and you’d just end up under the table,” Sam argued.  “You might as well start down there.”

I laughed.  The logic was flawed, but I figured it was as good a place as any.  “Alright, pants off everyone,” I said, slipping off my chair onto my knees under the table.  Everyone shuffled around, some of them just opening their pants and pulling their cocks out, while others stood and pushed their pants all the way down.  Wanda and Natasha were both wearing skirts, so they just took off their panties and hoisted up their skirts.  It was quite a sight under the table.  Nine people all around me, pants down, and legs spread.  Some of the men were already half-hard.  I looked around, picking my target.

Of all the members of the group, Wanda was calling to me the most.  She was wearing thigh-high black socks, heeled boots, and a black skirt that was bunched up.  Her legs were spread and the little thatch of pubic hair glistened invitingly.

I crawled over to her, putting my hands on her thighs.  She tensed and I ducked my head forward, licking up her slit.  I wondered what she looked like right now.  How she was hiding what was happening.  If she was hiding it.  From where I was, it seemed so obvious.  Her muscles had clenched and she’d tilted her hips forward.  I could even feel a slight shake in her thighs.  I couldn’t imagine it not being totally obvious from above the table, but if she was, no one had said anything yet.

I pushed my tongue inside her and flicked it up over her clit, painting little shapes over it.  She squirmed and her cunt flooded, and as the tart, musky flavor of her slick filled my mouth, Bucky, Tony, and Clint all called out at once. “Wanda!”

“No fair!” Wanda whined as I pulled away.

“That’s the game, Wanda,” Sam said.  “Now under the table.”

I crawled out and wriggled out of my pants as Wanda climbed in under the table.  I sat down and nothing seemed to happen for a while.  I could hear Wanda moving under the table for a moment, and then after that, it was just the sounds of people picking at the last of the food and random conversation in the group.

All of a sudden Clint yelped and practically rocketed up off his chair. “Wanda!” he scolded.  “No powers!”

She got up giggling as everyone burst out laughing.  “Did someone get invaded by some pink light?” Tony teased.

“That’s one way to put it,” Clint said as he climbed under the table.

It took a really long time before the next person became clear.  I was studying everyone very closely, and the only thing that had me wondering was the slightly bored looks in the eyes of Natasha and Tony.  Which made me think it was more likely Tony as he usually dominated the conversation.  It wasn’t until his brow furrowed and he moved his hand under the table that I knew for sure it was him.

“Tony!” I yelled, pointing at him.  “It’s you!”

“Ah, shit,” Tony said, reaching under the table with both hands and began to rut his hips.  “Wait, Clint, I’m nearly done.”

“Hey now,” Steve said.  “You can wait like the rest of us.”

Clint made a choked sound and stumbled out from under the table, his eyes watering, and he wiped his mouth.  “Jesus,” he cursed.  “Tony was a terrible choice.”

“Oh, baby,” Tony said, as he smoothed down his shirt.  “The amount of calls I’ve taken while I’ve been balls deep in someone.”

“Alright, alright, get under the table smart ass,” Steve said.

Tony laughed as he climbed under, and I decided on a completely different strategy.  I glanced around the table, trying to see if anyone had given it away, but at the same time, I tensed my hands and took in a shaky breath.

“Elly!” Clint, Steve, Natasha, and Sam all said at once.

“No!” I shouted and Bruce groaned. “It’s Bruce!”

“You little…!” Natasha scolded.  “That was evil!”

Tony had broken down into laughter under the table and he crawled his way out.  “That was awesome,” he said.  “Now what?  Do all of you have to get under the table?”

“Might I suggest that we alter the game?” Thor asked.  “Perhaps, rather than all of us trying to work out who is being pleasured, Lady Elise should be blindfolded and have to work out which of her lovers is pleasuring her.”

“I think that sounds like a fantastic idea,” Natasha said.  “If she can guess, then they can make her come.  If not, she just gets edged.”

“What do you think of that, Elise?” Steve asked.

I nodded enthusiastically.  “Yes, please. It is my birthday after all.”

“We might need lube and something to blindfold El with,” Sam said.  “I mean - if we’re going to have real fun that is.”

Wanda lifted her loop scarf off over her head, and Tony, Clint, Natasha, and Thor all fished in their pockets and pulled out lube.  What was funny was none of them had the same kind of lube.  Tony had the warming gel kind, Clint’s was espresso flavored, Natasha’s doubled as a massage gel, and Thor’s was an oil he’d brought from Asgard and came in a delicate-looking, hand-blown glass bottle.

Steve and Wanda approached me as the others started clearing the table.  “Let’s get you ready, Elise,” Steve said.

Steve lifted my shirt off over my head and Wanda unfastened my bra.  I let the fabric slip down my arms and Steve tossed both it and my bra aside.  Wanda kissed me softly and then wrapped the scarf around the top of my head, obscuring my vision.  When it was in place properly, and I had assured them I couldn’t see anything, Steve lifted me and put me on the table.

I lay back and lifted my legs, spreading them and resting my feet at the edge of the table.  They made me wait a moment, and while I waited, they were clearly not keeping their hands to themselves.  There were moans and the soft wet sounds of kissing around me, which only made that wait worse.

My thighs were trembling by the time someone touched me.  Right away I knew it was one of the guys and not Natasha or Wanda, and given the fact that he touched me with both hands, and they were both flesh, I knew it wasn’t Bucky either.

There was no preamble. Whoever it was just lunged in and began to lap up the length of the slit.  They didn’t even try spreading me with their fingers, rather their tongue pushed between my folds and just got to work.  I could feel the scratch of their beard.  Yet, even without that, they were very skilled with their tongue.  It started wide, sweeping up from my entrance to my clit, and then began to focus on the little but, sending little jolts through me.  I didn’t even need the extra sensation of their long hair tickling the insides of my thighs, I knew it was Thor.  The size of his hands, the beard, and the technique all screamed the god of thunder to me.

“Mmm… Thor,” I moaned, lifting my hips to meet his mouth.

A deep booming chuckle sounded between my legs and Thor sent a jolt of electricity right through my clit making my body jerk up hard.  I nearly came just from that.

“How do you even do that?” Tony laughed. “You are too good at this game.”

“You gotta make me come now,” I said breathlessly, reaching down to tangle my hands into Thor’s hair.

“Don’t worry, lover.  I will,” Thor said.

He was good to his word.  He pulled my clit between his lips and began to flick his tongue over it.  Every now and again, he’d send another spark into it, that made my core muscles clench completely out of my control.  It brought me careening to the edge very quickly and the fourth time he did it, the dam burst and I came, arching up hard off the table as my orgasm crashed through me.

“Fucking hell!” I cried out.

“Damn, Thor,” Sam said.  “That had to be some kind of record.”

“I am a god, Samuel,” Thor bragged.

There was only a short wait for the next person to move up.  It was another one of the men and once again, clearly not Bucky.  This person was much more tentative than Thor, spreading my folds with his fingers, and slowly swirling his tongue over them.   He was tender and methodical, and it sent a warm buzz through me, oozing out like honey on tiles.  There was no beard, and the very faint tickle of the hair on his head on my thighs.

“Bruce,” I moaned, arching my back and lifting one leg so it was draped over his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Tony cursed.  “You’re gonna be having so many orgasms tonight.”

“I know you all too well,” I moaned.  “Gonna have to mess up on purpose so I don’t die.”

“Let’s see how you go,” Bruce said and eased two fingers inside me.

Bruce was slower and more methodical about things than Thor, at least initially.  He pushed his fingers in deep, touching my g-spot and then stroking over it.  As he did, he pulled my clit between his lips and flicked his tongue over it.  The louder I moaned the rougher he got, so it wasn’t long before he’d gone from careful and slow, to rough and fast.  His fingers hammered into my g-spot, over and over, sending sharp jolts right through me, making it so I couldn’t think straight.  Beside me, someone had started having sex, and from the sounds of it, it’d be a while before Clint was down between my legs.

My orgasm peaked and Bruce pushed his fingers against my g-spot and twisted his wrist, and I came, my back arching off the table as I cried out, shuddering with it.

Bruce hummed and pulled away. “Mmm… I love seeing you come,” he hummed, leaning down to kiss me.

I sucked my slick from his lips and he pulled away, running his hand down my stomach and patting my pussy before pulling away.  I didn’t have to wait very long before the next person to take their place.  Right away I could tell it was one of the women, which narrowed the choice down to two.  I almost wanted to just take a shot in the dark and really freak them out.  I didn’t even need to though, the slow tease of her fingers up my thighs, and the way she ran her nails over my hips as she leaned in, I knew right away it was Natasha.  Not because she always touched me like that, but just that it was uniquely her.

“Natasha!” I said quickly.

She cursed in Russian and Tony burst out laughing, while at least two other people applauded me.  I would have taken a bow if I wasn’t flat on my back.  “That’s my girl,” Natasha praised and got to work.

Her nimble fingers pushed inside me and immediately pushed against my g-spot. I gasped and bucked up hard against her, but she just pushed my hips back down and continued doing it.  She countered the intense pressure of her fingers against that sweet spot inside me with her tongue on my clit.  It was intense.  I couldn’t focus.  Lights popped behind my eyes and each time I tried to say something all that came out was an animalistic cry.

When I came, I gushed, spraying Natasha with my juices as I arched hard on the table.  It was so intense, it knocked every conscious thought out of my head and I just oozed down onto the table, breathing heavily, completely forgetting that there were still six more people to go.

“Well done, Mishka,” Natasha praised.“I hope you have more in you.”

I wasn’t so sure.  In fact, when the next person stepped up, it took me a moment to realize there was even someone there.  Their tongue was lapping up and down my folds before I was truly aware enough to remember I was supposed to be playing a game.

The way they lapped their tongue was almost soothing after the intensity of the last orgasm I had.  There was a scratch of beard on my skin, but my foggy head made it hard to think about which beard it could be.

Finally, it clicked into place.  No metal hand.  That cut out Bucky.  Clint and Steve were both clean-shaven.  Which just left Tony and Sam.  I was sure that Tony would want to torture me after what happened and he wouldn’t be going easy on me at all. “Sam…” I moaned, the sounds completely breathless.

“We should never have doubted you,” Thor said.  “This is truly impressive.”

“Are you sure you’re not peeking?” Clint asked.

“Just know you all,” I argued in that same breathless moan.

Sam pulled back and a moment later there was the press of his cock against my cunt. “Let’s make you come a different way,” Sam said.

He lifted my legs so they were up against his chest and he pushed into me.  As he started to thrust into me, I gripped the edge of the table to hold myself steady. “Oh fuck,” I moaned.  I was so sensitive and overworked, that I knew the next six orgasms would happen really fast.  I was going to be completely over-stimulated by the time we were done.

Sam slid his hands down my thighs and onto my cunt, and he began to rub my clit in tight circles. I mewled, arching my back and clenching tight around his shaft.  “Oh god, Sam.  Please…”  I didn’t even know what I was pleading for.  I just knew I needed something.  More, harder, slow down, be gentle.  Or maybe just to stop.

His thumb kept rubbing in tight circles on my clit and thrusting in fast and deep, and very quickly I was brought spiraling to the edge once more.  He pinched my clit and I went toppling over, crying out and clenching my teeth as all my muscles clenched up at once.

“Good girl,” Sam praised.  “There we go.”

He slipped out of me and I let my legs fall on the table.  “You still okay?” he asked.

I nodded and made an incoherent sound.  He caressed my cheek and ran his thumb over my bottom lips.  “Elise, are you sure?”

I nodded again.  “Yeah.  I can do this.”

He stepped away and the next hand touched me. Just the right hand, and it slid up my legs and when it reached the apex of my thigh, the thumb ran up and down my slit.  Someone might have been just trying to mess with me, but I didn’t think so, and when the person crouched and their long hair teased the inside of my thighs it confirmed it.  “Bucky,” I said.

He laughed. “Damn it.  I was trying not to give it away.”

“That’s what gave it away,” I said.

“Alright, alright, let’s make you come then,” he said, sounding a lot like he was pouting.

He didn’t even bother to try and go down on me.  He just pushed my legs up against my body, lined his cock up to my cunt, and shoved in deep.  I gasped as he bottomed out and I felt the sharp sting of the head of his cock hitting my cervix.  “Bucky,” I whined.

“Sorry, honey,” he said, backing off a bit.  He smoothed his hands down my thighs and began to thrust.

I reached up, grabbing his wrists as he thrust into me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him in as tightly as I could.  “Bucky,” I moaned.  “Kiss me.”

He wrapped his right arm around my waist and lifted me, so I was sitting on the edge of the table and the cool metal of his thumb brushed over my lips.  I parted them, leaning forward as I wrapped my arms around him and pushed my hands into his hair.

He kissed me, his tongue pushing into my mouth.  I flicked my tongue forward to meet his and they danced together.  Bucky kept thrusting into me and I rolled my hips to meet him.  As worked up as I was, I knew I wouldn’t last, but the way this orgasm built felt so different from the past four.  It wound around me like a warm blanket.  I was engulfed by it, cocooned completely.  It heated me from the inside and yet I trembled in Bucky’s arms.  He held me close, thrusting in deep and kissing me with a passionate intensity that took my breath away.

When my orgasm washed over me, I threw my head back and clenched tight around me.  “Oh god, Bucky,” I moaned.

Bucky’s hips stuttered and he groaned loudly, burying his head in my neck. “Fuck, Elly,” he groaned, suddenly jerking forward and coming inside me.

“Bucky Barnes, you dirty dog,” Clint scolded.  “Leaving a mess in there for us to clean up.”

I swatted lazily in Clint’s direction as Bucky started laughing. “Oh like you’re not looking forward to that.”

He pulled out of me and I lay back with a groan.  It wasn’t long before someone else was between my legs.  They lifted them and spread them wide and then did something that gave them away immediately.  They laughed.

“What’s so funny, Tony?” I asked.

“Ah fuck,” he said. “Didn’t even get a chance to trick you.  I just had plans to go to town on you.”

“Mean,” he said, reaching for him.  “Go on, you gotta give me my prize.”

“Alright, alright,” he said and pushed his cock up against my cunt.  “It’s coming and so will you be.”

I laughed, but it was cut short as he shoved inside of me.  He thrust in so hard it nearly knocked the wind from me.  I cried out and reached above my head.  Someone grabbed my hand and I held onto them as Tony began to thrust into me.

He didn’t go easy on me the way Bucky had.  He grabbed my legs, held me in place, and just railed into me.  “Fuck… fuck… fuck…” I babbled as I was jolted on the table.  My fingers tightened around whoever’s hand I was holding.  It felt like this orgasm was being hammered into me.  Each thrust of Tony’s hips just made it build more and more until I was ready to burst.

It hit me hard, lights popped behind my eyes and I cried out, my hips bucking and my body writhing under him.  “Oh fuck yes, Tony!” I mewled.

Tony kept thrusting, fucking me through my orgasm, and with a shudder he came too, moaning as he did.  “There you go, Legolas,” Tony teased as he held me in place.

He leaned down and kissed me as he pulled out, and stepped away.  A lay on the table breathing heavily, waiting for the next person the move up.

I didn’t have to wait long, and once again, I knew who it was as soon as their hands were on my skin.

“Wanda,” I said.

She giggled.  “I knew there was no point trying to trick you.  But lucky you, now you get your prize.”

She took her hands off me completely and just as I wondered what she was doing, the warm tingle of her powers touched on my feet and began to wind their way up my leg.  It was slow going, and it didn’t settle on my cunt right away, rather, it wrapped its way right around me, making my whole body buzz and tingle.

I whined, squirming on the table.  I was still holding someone’s hand, and I gripped it tighter, trying to tether myself to something real.

“Please, Wanda,” I whined, bucking my hips.

She giggled again, but things started to get more focused.  It swirled around my nipples, tugging on them, and began to buzz against my clit. I moaned, arching my back and the pressure increased.  Every moan I made made her increase the pressure of her powers on me.  My nipples hardened almost painfully and a hot current ran right through me from my clit.  I was dripping on the table as my cunt clenched around nothing.

It started to feel like some kind of torture.  I was so close, and yet she was keeping me hovering there right at the edge.  “Please.  Please, Wanda.  I need … I need…”

“Yes, Elly?” she asked.

“I need to come,” I wailed.

A jolt shot through me, and just like that, I came, arching hard off the table, and screaming as my orgasm rocked through me, making me gush onto the table.  It was the most intense orgasm yet, and for a moment everything went black.

When the world returned, I was panting heavily, completely dazed as I rode out the extreme orgasm high.

“Holy shit, Wanda,” Natasha cursed.  “That was impressive.”

“Two more left, El,” Steve said.  “You sure you’ve got them in you?”

I nodded slowly.  “Think so.”

Someone moved up and skimmed the back of their fingers up the insides of my thighs.  It was a Clint trick, but not out of Steve’s playbook. Whoever it was leaned in, ghosting his lips up the insides of my soaked thighs.  His fingers moved to my cunt, spreading it with his fingers and running his tongue up my slit.  There was no beard, but both Clint and Steve were currently clean-shaven, so that didn’t give it away.  I really had no idea who was touching me.

I lifted my feet, put them on his shoulders, and flexed my toes.  Whoever it was was broad-shouldered and muscular.  That didn’t exactly narrow it down either.  And just because Steve was broader than Clint, I chose him.

“Steve?” I asked.

“You sure about that, darlin’?” Bucky asked. 

“No… but it’s my guess,” I moaned.

Some of the group started clapping.  “Well done, that’s all of you.  How about Clint and Steve make you come together, so you only have to do one more?” Sam suggested.

I nodded emphatically.  “Please.”

Steve moved forward, the thick head of his cock pressing against my cunt.  I raised my hips to meet him, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him closer to me.  He pulled back just a little and with a snap of his hips, he sunk in deep.

I gasped and arched my back.  As I did, Clint moved up beside me on the table and began to flick his tongue over my clit and play with my breast.  The table was jostled beside us and Clint grunted and let out a moan.

“Who’s fucking Clint?” I moaned.

“That’d be me, honey,” Sam replied.  “You want to see?”

I nodded.  “Please.”

The blindfold was taken off as Steve continued to thrust into me.  I blinked at the light and looked around, Taking everything in.  Steve was between my legs, holding me in place, his brow furrowed as he fucked me.  Clint was half propped on the table, bent over me, licking at my clit and that base of Steve’s cock.  Sam was behind him, one hand braced on Clint’s shoulder and the other on his hip as he thrust into him, jostling him against me.  The others were spaced around the table.  Most just watching.  Thor was the one holding my hand, though Wanda was bouncing in his lap, her eyes glowing pink.

Everyone else was just kissing and holding each other as they watched Clint and Steve bring on my final orgasm.  Seeing them just added to my pleasure, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

I relaxed back, just letting the pleasure wash over me, It encompassed me completely.  But in the end, it wasn’t either Steve or Clint that set my orgasm off, it was Wanda’s orgasm.

She cried out and her powers burst out of her and I was hit by a sudden, intense wave of her pleasure.  I came hard, all my muscles clenching at once making me arch violently off the table.  I cried out and my vision blacked out for a moment.  Wanda’s orgasm must have affected the others too.  Steve groaned and gripped my hips hard shoving into me and coming deep inside me.  Sam’s hips bucked and his head fell back as his hit too, and Clint suddenly arched like a cat and came in thick ropes onto the table.

I fell back breathing heavily as I rode the waves of my orgasm.  Steve hunched over me panting and Clint slithered down and lay there with his head on my stomach.

That’s how we stayed for a while and then Natasha stood.  “Okay.  How about we clean up here and head downstairs?  I think it’s time for a soak in the hot tub.” 

Steve sighed contentedly and slipped out of me.   He pulled up his pants and then picked me up, cradling me against him. “Good birthday?” he asked.

I hummed, snuggling against his chest and closing his eyes as I murmured my reply. “The best.”

~ END ~

#marvel #avengers #steve rogers #bucky barnes #thor #bruce banner #clint barton #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #tony stark #avengers x oc #original character #ofc #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #avengers fanfiction #the tower

[americasass81]

!!WARNING:- 18+ ADULT CONTENT. BY CLICKING ANY TITLE BELOW YOU ARE ACKNOWLEDGING THAT YOU ARE OVER 18 AND CONSENT TO VIEWING THE CONTENT INCLUDED.!!

YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY SO PLEASE READ ALL THE WARNINGS PROVIDED.

NO REPOSTING (rewriting, copying or translating on another platform claiming it’s your’s or saying I gave you my explicit permission. I didn’t). If you see my work anywhere other than my Tumblr please let me know.

################################

Beneath The Moonlight (dark Avengers)

Synopsis:- Leaving your comfort zone and joining your best friend at her boss’ party, you never thought the shattering of the multiverse would ever affect you in such an irreversible way.

Total Word Count:- 6,171

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Super Soldier Rescue (soft-ish Steve Rogers / soft-ish Bucky Barnes)

⭐Named Female Reader⭐

Synopsis:- What happens when two super soldiers decide to try their hand at rescuing a damsel?

Total Word Count:- 5,485

Written as a gift for @navybrat817

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Love’s Embrace (soft Stucky)

Synopsis:- Finally restoring the world to the way it should be, can two super soldiers who’ve known nothing but war find the peace they’ve secretly longed for.

Total Word Count:- 2,580

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Toys 'R' Us (dark!Steve Rogers / dark!Tony Stark / dark!Natasha Romanoff)

Synopsis:- Whomever told you Halloween parties were supposed to be fun never heard of those involving Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. What will happen when you accept an invitation to Tony Stark’s latest shindig?

Total Word Count:- 8,278

Written for @jtargaryen18 Halloween Challenge 2023

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Embracing The Darkness (dark-ish Avengers)

🔥Original Female Character🔥

Synopsis:- Accepting an invitation to Tony Stark’s annual Halloween party, what will you do when an unforeseen interference with your costumes causes far reaching consequences for you and all of humanity?

Total Word Count:- 9,565

Written for @jtargaryen18 Halloween Challenge 2023

#Tony Stark #Steve Rogers #Stony #Stony x OFC #natasha romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff x OFC x Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff x Reader #Clint Barton #Doctor Strange #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers x OFC x Bucky Barnes #Stucky

[loopsisloops]

I’ve been reading “A Job A Million PRs Would Die For” by lokislittlevalkyrie on Ao3 which is why I’ve been M.I.A. but I came back just to share this:

“Scandal” is our nickname bc PR (thanks to Tony)

I’m 20 chapters in, it’s hilarious, y/n is witty and smart, Tony and Clint are such dads, I am the president of i love Pepper Potts club, Loki is a bastard (for now), Natasha Romanoff I love you and you have permission to kill me, enemies to friends to enemies to lovers, and as always: slow burn ;)

#loki laufeyson #'i hate him!' *circus music plays softly* #currently reading #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfic #mcu #ao3 #avengers #tony stark #pepper potts #clint barton #natasha romanoff #ofc #bruce banner #thor odinson #slow burn #mean loki #fic recs #archive of our own

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God: Chapter 23

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Summary: The situation escalates once again, leaving Eliza in the line of fire. It seems like this time might be the last time, when all of a sudden, an old friend jumps in to help.

Warnings: canon typical violence, alcohol consumption, guns

Word Count: 7k

Read Chapter 23: The Avenger (Pt.1) here on AO3!

Foggy wasn’t surprised when the pair arrived too late. Matt walked through the door first. He took a seat next to his friend, ordering his usual drink of choice, before diverting his attention. 

“I said an hour,” he stated. 

“We had important things to do,” Matt said, shrugging. “They couldn’t wait.”

And with important things, he meant shower sex. It was the only reason they took longer than anticipated. 

The blond gave a suspicious glare, but he left it at that. The door opened again. No one paid attention to the person entering. Eliza wore a hoodie and a cap, her eyes covered by sunglasses. She took a seat in the corner next to Foggy. 

“You better hope no one catches me,” she grumbled. 

He slid a glass of tequila over the counter and towards her. “Don’t worry, I already got us drinks.”

She considered, finger tracing the wet brim. The smell was strong, almost knocking her off her feet. She found the lemon inside the glass, no salt in sight. Not that it mattered, anyway. 

“Actually, I don’t need it.” She handed it back to him. Her hand lingered a little too long. 

“Well, alright then. More for me.”

She took a toothpick into her mouth, staring off into the distance. “So, you wanna know the whole story?”

“Yeah, that’s why I asked you here.”

“Do you have your phone?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sending you something. It’s a blueprint. I’ll explain more in a minute.”

His phone pinged with the new message. He nodded, signaling that he got the picture. She gnawed on the thin wood. 

“Alright. I told you how I grew up in the White Room, do you remember? Well, this is it, only slightly more sophisticated than it used to be back then. I found it in John Larson’s office. He owns the building we infiltrated. They had files on Robert Pfeiffer and Wilson Fisk, establishing a connection between Hydra and said criminal mastermind. Now, I found something in the ledger suggesting that they’re selling illegal goods to make their money, but I haven’t gotten around to the what yet. I also haven’t figured out where the hell the building is. I just know the measurements, materials, and where the rooms are, which is written here in Russian, so you wouldn’t understand. The outline is native to New York laboratory facilities like the one Pfeiffer was in, seems to have been created by the same architect, but I haven’t found a name in the files. And judging by the size of the whole thing, they’d need big grounds hidden somewhere, probably the woods. But that’s all I can think of.”

“What if the sales documented in that ledger are human trafficking jobs?” he suggested. “You know, if they’re returning to old ways and are trying to make more of you, they’d need people for that. And that ledger doesn’t leave an official paper trail. Maybe it’s just to document their shipments.”

Eliza took off her sunglasses to stare blankly at him. “What?” 

“Yeah, you didn’t- huh, you didn’t think of that, did you?”

“I…” screw staying sober. She stole the glass of tequila back, downing it. “Fuck! Why didn’t I think of that? It makes so much more sense now. The payments, all similar amounts, all made by different people for months. Of course, they’d need to get their test subjects somewhere. I mean, the guy with the electricity had to have somehow gotten there. And I scouted the internet, they aren’t asking for volunteers. God knows how long this has been going on and I didn’t see-” she broke herself off to reach over the counter, grabbing a new bottle of whatever and pouring it into her glass. “I am such an idiot! I let myself get distracted by superficial things instead of considering the most obvious options.”

Matt called her name. “Maybe you should put the liquor down,” he said. 

She met his worried eyes through his glasses. “No,” she said. “I tried, doesn’t work.”

“Eliza, you’re walking on thin ice here. You need a clear head and alcohol-”

“Does just that. Thank you very much. Clearly, I haven’t been on my best behavior lately because I haven’t been drinking enough.”

“That’s not you and you know it.”

“Who am I, Matthew, if not a useless piece of nothing, never wanted by anyone, only to be used by people who think they are so much better than everyone else?”

The bitterness had replaced the person he had sex with before. She told him she was going to hurt him, she hurt people before they could hurt her, she was broken and complicated and everyone left her once things got too hard - he slowly started to see why she thought that. She had no one and yes, she was majorly complicated, she had issues and anyone else would have had a problem with that, but he only worried. He worried, realizing she told him the honest-to-God truth, and she believed it. 

“So, the ledger?” Foggy drew the attention back to himself. “You have it with you?”

Matt pulled it out of the inside pocket of his jacket. “Right here,” he said. 

“It’s in Russian, you’re not gonna be able to understand anything.”

“Yeah, but I can read the numbers.”

“That’s not gonna do anything.” She tore the ledger from his hand, getting up. She’d had enough. She wanted to leave. The air of the room became suffocating, the alcohol in her system making her dizzy. 

Eliza turned to leave, but Matt reached for her arm, pulling her back in. She stood between them now, face empty, tears in her eyes behind the sunglasses once again seated on her nose. She saw her reflection in the glass of his own. He took the book, knowing she was too tired, too exhausted to fight him. 

“Let us help,” he said. 

“No,” she retorted. 

He squeezed the hand that was around her wrist. “Please, sweetheart.”

“I don’t need help.”

“It sure as hell would make things go a lot faster.”

“So would cocaine, but you don’t see me using that.”

“Eliza.”

“I’m sorry, bad joke.”

Foggy sighed next to her. “You need our help,” he said. “And not because you can’t do it alone but because you’re so overworked and overwhelmed, you need another set of eyes to make you see more of the bigger picture. Which means, you need me ‘cause I’m the only one out of us three that can offer more eyes.”

She shrugged.

“Matt is here to keep you sane and us safe with his super senses while you and I can review all of the information you have and I can give my input, maybe get us a few more steps ahead.” His knuckle clicked against the ledger in Matt’s hand. “All you need to do is translate what’s in there.”

“I-”

“Get down!”

Matt threw himself over her like a blanket, pushing them both to the sticky, hardwood floor. One of his hands pulled at Foggy’s chair, causing it to topple. He barely caught himself. Everything happened in a matter of seconds. Not minutes, seconds. From the moment he heard the familiar click and the collision of metal on the ground to the loud bang that had his eardrums shut down with the shrillest ringing he ever heard only about thirty seconds passed. He cursed himself for picking up on it so late. 

The windows blew out, and the door fell off its hinges. About half of the wall at the front caved in with the sudden force expanding the small hand grenade, sending shrapnel in every direction. Some of the wood caught fire, the alcohol making the four walls extremely flammable, adding to the force of the explosion. 

He was sure he went deaf for at least a moment there. The world was quiet, smoke and copper in the air, the alcohol turning into the scent of gasoline, heated metal, and scorned wood. His skin was hot, and his jacket was probably ruined with the dust of the debris. The skin on his left shoulder pulled with every breath, tearing in two. 

He grunted. The body underneath him heaved with heavy breaths. She was alive. Her pulse was so strong, he could feel it, even with half of his ear function gone. Everything seemed wrapped in cotton, the ringing subsiding and leaving behind a whirlwind of nothing. 

Eliza turned on her back, coughing uncontrollably. The smoke filled her lungs, tinting them black. Her hearing came back faster, thanks to Matt covering her. She heard the screams, the faint sirens, the crackling of the fire. People wheezed, and some didn’t make a sound. Her eyes were blurry, burning with the different substances in the air. She rubbed some of the dust from her forehead.

He was still on top of her, his lungs filling with the smoke and ejecting the polluted air in heavy coughs. She probably sprained a rib or two, Matt didn’t have any obvious injuries, except for the gash in his forehead and the slump of his shoulder as he tried to hide the grunts of pain threatening to escape. 

“You okay?” she asked. 

He nodded. “Are you- ah!” His voice hurt his ears. He pushed a finger inside, but the blockage wouldn’t come out. He shook his head, nothing. 

The blood started seeping from the back to the front, showing exactly where he got hurt. She touched his shoulder. It seemed as if he had a piece of glass sticking out of his shoulder blade hopefully not stuck in the bone. Blood coated her fingers, hot and sticky, darker than it was supposed to be. Perhaps that was the haze over her eyes. 

“Jesus, Matt, you’re bleeding!” she scrambled to sit up, pulling him with her. 

“Foggy,” he coughed. 

Always thinking about other people first. 

She turned to the blond cowering against the bar. Other than his bleeding eyebrow, he seemed fine. “Foggy!” she called out.

“I’m fine,” he replied. His body vibrated from the obvious shock. This wasn’t a first for her, but it certainly was for him, and the realization of what had just happened, surrounded by injured and dead bodies and a field of destruction hit him hard. 

“He’s fine, Matt. C’mon.”

“We need to get behind the counter.”

“We need to help you first, then the others. There is no time to-”

She was cut off by the sound of gunfire raining in through the broken windows. Her instincts sprung into action. She blocked the bullets with a surge of power from the palm of her hand. The bullets stopped mid-air, pearling off the red wall. Whenever she did that, she felt alive. 

Foggy used the moment of peace and crawled behind the bar. Eliza motioned for Matt to do the same. “Go!” she said, though he stayed rooted in his spot. “Matt, get behind the counter, now.”

“Okay, let’s go then,” he said. 

She huffed, pulling her arm back slightly, only to push forward with twice its force. The bullets changed their course. He dragged her with him into hiding. The glasses above their heads exploded, bullets shredding them. He placed both of his hands over her head, shielding her from the glass. His shoulder protested, but he didn’t care.

“What did you just get me into?!” Josie snapped from where she sat crammed against the wall. 

They all looked at her. 

Eliza coughed again. “I am so sorry.”

“Sorry? What the fuck is happening?”

“Do you have a gun somewhere?”

Josie pointed to the holster under the counter. 

“Thanks.”

“Eliza, no,” Matt tried to stop her, but the pain made it impossible to overpower her. She tore the Glock from its confines, loading it. 

“If we wanna get out of here, this is our only shot,” she said. “Pun intended.” 

Foggy flinched. “I could use a prayer right about now, Matt,” he said. 

“God can’t help us anymore. Ah!” he fell against the wall, defeated. The glass was still inside the wound, but he knew better than to pull it out. 

“Very optimistic, thank you. You know, since we’re probably gonna die, there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“Foggy.” Another sharp sound broke through his eardrums. 

“I slept with that Greek girl from your Spanish class in college,” Foggy continued babbling. 

“You did what?”

“Yeah, that’s why it didn’t work out.”

“What? What did you just say?”

“I am so sorry, buddy. If I had known you had a crush on her and it wasn’t just sex, I wouldn’t have done it, but she came onto me and I couldn’t help it.”

He pinched his ear. “No, Foggy, I literally can’t hear you. You need to speak up, my ears- ah! They’re ringing.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Sorry.”

“We’re not gonna die, so whatever confession you just made, save it.”

“That explains why you’re yelling.”

“I can’t see and I can barely hear anything, of course, I am yelling!”

“I’m sorry, Matt, I didn’t know!”

Matt gasped loudly when Eliza smacked him over the head. It felt as though a cork plopped out of his ear like a champagne bottle. He could hear himself breathe, the heartbeats of the people in the room, the fire, the floorboards, everything. He sighed in relief. 

“How did you-” he said. 

“I’ve been in explosions so many times, I’m almost deaf at this point. And you know, you need your ears more than me anyway.”  

“Yeah, I do. They’re coming in.”

“Goddamnit!” She lifted the gun. Shots rang out in the general direction. They must have heard them. “How many?” she asked.

“Seven,” Matt told her. 

“Seven, okay.” Once the gunfire stopped momentarily for them to reload, she looked up and pulled the trigger. She hit one of them in the shoulder, the next she supposed she managed to hit in the throat, only enough to knock him out. 

Bullets started flying again. Since she was fighting back, they only moved forward slowly. Another five and they were out of the woods. She got another two easily. They reloaded, and she fired. She was ready to press down on the trigger once again, but all that followed was an empty click. Her face fell. 

“Are you kidding me?” Foggy hissed, his voice high-pitched. “You were so good at that and now it’s just empty?!” 

“I need another clip,” Eliza told Josie. The footsteps grew closer. On the way, several shots landed on some of the guests trying to flee, making the bloodbath only worse. Matt could smell it, she could feel it. 

They were all dead. The place hadn’t been crowded, but those who were there took their last breaths with fear being their last memory of life.  

Josie gasped. “This is the only one,” she said.

“What?”

“Oh, my God, we’re gonna die,” said Foggy.

Matt let out a prolonged breath. “Fuck!” The thoughts were suddenly very clear in his mind. He took off his glasses, ready to rise to his feet and solve this with his fists, knees, anything, just so they couldn’t get to Eliza, their endgame. None of them doubted that it was Hydra that blew up Josie, or perhaps Fisk who was ready to end her. Either way, she was the target.

He wouldn’t let them touch her, over his dead body, and that became frighteningly clear when he didn’t feel an ounce of hesitation in his bones. If anything, he was excited.

The swoosh of air followed by a hollow thud and the sound of flesh being pierced stopped him along with her hand on his forearm. The shots stopped. The same sound repeated itself two more times. Men grunted, bodies dropping to the floor. Then, silence. He could hear the faint footsteps in the distance, coming closer. Only one set, he told her. 

She checked the empty clip, eyeing him. If he was ready to fight for her, she would do the same for him, for everyone. 

She rose to her feet. Matt barely managed to take her hand. With the gun pointed before her, she walked around the bar. His silent pleas for her to come back went unanswered. So, naturally, he got up too. Foggy watched the scene unfold in horror.

“Now you’re both gonna die,” he hissed.

“Eliza,” Matt called for her. No shots rang out, the sharp thudding remaining a distant memory. 

Her finger brushed the trigger. “I am armed and dangerous,” she said. And not swaying from the stress of the explosion slowly wearing off. 

“You know, for someone I taught how to lie, you are exceptionally terrible at it, kid.”

Her hand stiffened around the gun, finger twitching. She could just imagine bullets and start shooting, she realized. Whoever played mind tricks on her deserved it. But those weren’t hallucinations or mental manipulation. She could feel his signature in the air. Someone she had spent so much time with easily branded into her brain, her powers familiar with his soul. They were connected in a much different way than she and Matt. This was another level of attachment. Was. Yet it remained inside of her.

“Seriously,” flesh squished as something was pulled out of a very lifeless body, “What happened? Even an amateur could tell that that clip is empty.”

He stepped out of the smoke in his sleeveless top, jeans, straps attached to his bicep and thighs, and the bow tightly clutched in his hand. He held the arrow he had pulled out of his victim, moving over to the next one (another one of the attackers, she figured), and pulled that one out, too. 

Eliza cocked an eyebrow. “It’s not empty,” she stated. “And you’re not real.”

He pinched himself. “Feels pretty real.”

He looked real, too, but she didn’t want to admit it.

“No.”

“Okay, to be fair, I am partly made out of plastic at this point, but plastic’s real, right? You wanna feel it? ‘Cause I can tell you, I’m pretty much alive.”

“Tell me something only you would know then.”

“When you opened a pack of Cheerios the first time, you looked into the package and said, OH WOW, DONUT SEEDS! And then you were disappointed when I told you that it was just cereal. A couple of days later I went into the vents and found you dead asleep with a pack of Cheerios in your hands, the name scribbled out and replaced with Donut Seeds, fuck you, Clint. The punctuation was wrong, but I mean, you tried.” 

She lowered the gun. No, she dropped it completely. It clicked against the floor. She stepped toward him with slow strides, getting faster and more determined by the second. The distance felt like miles even though he was closer than ever. 

“Oh, my God.” She laughed, though it sounded like she was crying, and when her arms finally wrapped around him, she felt at home all over again. Another kind of home than with Matt, a parental, family kind of home only a handful of people could offer her. She had thought those people gone, although not dead, gone all the same. 

He hugged her back instantly, the edge of his bow digging into her shirt. “Hey, kiddo,” he said. His hand cradled the back of her head. She shivered against him, the sobs resting in her throat, but she wouldn’t let them out. She couldn’t. 

She nuzzled against him. “Clint.” 

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“I hate you so much.”

“I know.”

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

“I wasn’t really gone, I was on house arrest. Still are, technically.”

She stepped away. “How are you here?”

“I managed to turn off my ankle bracelet and evade the cops watching my house. They’re like parasites, all of them.”

“How? What about Laura? The kids?”

“Who do you think helped me get the bracelet off?”

“What if you get caught?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“That’s fair, I guess,” said Eliza. They stared at each other for another moment before realizing that they weren’t alone, standing right in the middle of death and destruction, and the fight was long from over. “It’s Hydra.” Her lip quivered. 

“Yeah, I know,” Clint responded. 

“People died.”

“I know, kid, I’m sorry. I heard what happened on the news.”

She nodded along. “I want to destroy them. Like, I want them to suffer for all they did to me. My whole world fell apart back then. Now I just want the honors of burning them down myself.”

“And you will.” He shouldered his bow. “We can catch up later. Right now, we need to get out of here,” he said. 

“Who are you, exactly?” Matt spoke up from the sidelines. 

“Who are you?” he retorted. 

“Clint, this is Matt,” she introduced them. “Matt, this is Clint Barton. He, uh, he’s-”

“Hawkeye!” Foggy stood, helping Josie rise to her feet. His eyes lit up. “You’re Hawkeye, right?” he said. 

“Currently unemployed, but yeah, I’m Hawkeye. Who are you, again?”

“Uh, Foggy. Foggy Nelson. I’m, uh, a friend of Eliza’s.”

“Lawyer, actually,” she said. 

“And Matt?” he dragged the name out, looking at the blind guy standing right behind her. “Is there something I need to know?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but she was faster. “Also my lawyer. They work together. It’s a long story.”

“What are you doing here with your lawyers?”

“I’m a fugitive, remember?”

“This is a public bar.”

“Well, it’s a friend’s bar.”

Josie scoffed, “We’re not friends!”

“Acquaintances.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Okay fine! Matt and Foggy frequent this place. Matt has been helping me ever since shit hit the fan and Foggy… caught us. Ever since then, we’ve been a team.”

“But he’s blind.”

Matt blinked. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and neither did he hold his cane. He stood in the middle of the ruined bar like a seemingly normal person. “I’m not,” he stammered. 

“The fire, your pupils aren’t reactive to the light,” Clint stated.

His cheeks flushed a deep red. If he figured out his identity, how easy would it be for anyone else? He felt Eliza’s familiar hand on his arm. 

“Hey, he’s the good guy,” she said. “You don’t have to be scared.”

He would never share his identity with anyone. Not that he had anyone to talk to, anyway. Clint wasn’t like that. He had a job that was built up on keeping secrets. Or, he used to. Either way, he was the last person to tell anyone about who Matt really was. She wasn’t lying. 

Clint peeked around the corner. “Liz’s right. I could care less about who you are. Big fan of your work, by the way. Daredevil.”

“How does he-” Matt gawked at her. 

“Well, you’re blind, but you move around as if you can see. Your stance suggests you know how to fight. Physique and build fit with what I saw on the news. Besides, Eliza wouldn’t risk being seen with just anyone. She may not show it often enough, but she has a huge brain. Nothing she does is ever without calculation. I just connected the dots.”

She squeezed his hand reassuringly. “He would never tell on you.”

“She’s right. I won’t.”

“I’m sorry, Matt,” she said. 

“It’s fine,” he breathed. “He figured it out himself. I have to give him that.”

Clint flipped two fingers off his forehead. “It’s what I do.”

“But you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“As I said, I don’t care who you are. Chances are we won’t be seeing each other again anyway, so I will probably forget you as soon as I’m back home.”

Matt appreciated his brutal honesty.

“So, Liz, wanna tell me what Daredevil and blondie over there are doing in this public bar with you?”

She sighed, “Would you be mad if I told you we were conjuring up a battle strategy?”

“Mad? No. I’d be disappointed though ‘cause this is the last place you should be doing this.”

“Well, then we were just having a drink.”

He chuckled. “Sure you were. A national fugitive walks into a bar to have a drink with her two lawyers, of which one is actually a city-wide known vigilante. Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.”

“Can this wait?” Matt piped up. “I can hear a truck of at least five more people heading for us and another one right behind them. It’s Hydra, I know it is, so we either fight or we get out. But considering we are dangerously outnumbered…”

“We run,” Eliza finished for him. 

Clint tilted his head purely out of curiosity. There was no judgment in his eyes, only the need to know more. “How did you just do that?” he questioned. 

“Let’s just say I have heightened senses that make it possible for me to hear, smell, taste, and feel everything a lot better than you. So technically, I see without seeing. It’s how I coordinate the world around me. Doesn’t matter! The point is, Eliza is gonna get hurt if we stay and I’d be damned if I let that happen. People have already died today, we don’t need more casualties, and I’m not going to let them take her. Not as long as I’m still alive.”

There was no one else able to hear him. Everyone was either dead, bleeding out, or unconscious. He was safe. The only people hearing his secret were those who already knew and an Avenger who honestly could care less and would not tell anyone. And Josie heard, too. He could hear her sharp intake of breath, not out of fear but out of realization. 

“Pretend you didn’t hear that,” he said to her. 

Clint agreed with Matt’s assessment, not acting further on the reveal of his identity. “I have all of my arrows, some knives, and-” he reached into his pocket to hand her the metal clip, “This one. Don’t lose it.”

Eliza nodded. “Thanks.”

“Do you know someplace we can go where we won’t get caught or killed or both? Somewhere no one can follow us ‘cause no one knows about it? Like, a- a safe house or something?”

“I know a place,” Matt answered. He removed his hands from his hips, stalking towards the destroyed entrance. “Josie, you stay here and wait for the cops to arrive. I can’t tell you what to do, but I’d be glad if you could keep this thing a secret. I will get us someplace safe. And you,” he turned to Eliza, “Stay behind me.”

“How do you fight, exactly?” Hawkeye mused. He straightened the string on his bow. “And do I call you Daredevil or Matt? What’s your honorific?“

“There is none,” Foggy chose to step in, taking the hand Eliza offered him gladly, “He’s Daredevil, Liz’s an Avenger and you’re an Avenger. You all have had this fancy training and know how to fight. Badass, like I said. I’m just some basic lawyer who dragged himself into this mess. Nonetheless, I would appreciate it if we didn’t die today, so let’s table this discussion and get to that place Matt mentioned, yeah? My head hurts like a bitch.”

She tilted his head to the side to take a closer look at his injury. “Blunt force trauma to the head. Probably a concussion,” she deduced, “might need a few stitches, but other than that you’re fine.”

“Thanks for the assessment. I’d still like to leave now. If I have to look at these dead people one more time, I might start ugly crying. I get that this is your life and it’s cool that you can stay so… so cool, but I’m not, so please, let’s just leave.”

“He’s right,” said Clint. “We have to go. If Daredevil here says there are more coming, I believe him. Eliza’s safety is a top priority. Matt,” he said to him, “Lead the way.”

He nodded. 

“Alright team, let’s get this show on the road!”

“There is a gym, Fogwell’s, it’s a couple of blocks from here. It’s been abandoned, so I’m the only one who still visits that place. We’re gonna be safe there, just until I can make sure no one’s at my apartment looking for her.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

“We will know when we get there.”

“Right. Echolocation and all that.”

“It’s not echolocation.”

“Then what is it?”

“I can’t explain it. Got some chemicals splashed into my eyes when I was a kid, next thing I know my other senses were heightened. I’m not a bat, I don’t work with ultrasound.“

“Can you feel it? Ultrasound, I mean.”

He sighed, “Yes.”

“So technically, you are a bat.“

“Bats aren’t blind, Clint.”

“They still have terrible eyesight though,” he said. “So, how does the thing with your senses work? Does your brain just scan things and then you get a picture in your head or what is it?”

“I don’t know,” Matt shrugged, “No one knew what happened because I never told them. You don’t exactly lead a conversation with the limitations - or in my case, abilities - that come with your disability. It would just have led to more questions being asked. I wasn’t ready for that.”

“Understandable. I get it. Although this was my fault,” he flicked his finger against the hearing aid in his ear, “I still don’t appreciate being asked about how I got it and what it is like.”

“You’re deaf?” Matt asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Hard of hearing more like. Wait, you hear my hearing aids?”

“Yeah, sounds a bit like a small speaker when the sounds get filtered. That and when you touch it, I can hear your finger brushing over the plastic.”

“Huh, you wouldn’t happen to have some of that super-hearing left over?”

He chuckled. It wasn’t often that a stranger made him laugh. “I’m afraid not.”

“Bummer.”

“How did it happen?”

“I’m pointing over my head,” Clint said. “‘cause what happened there is what made this,” he moved his finger to his ear again, “Even necessary in the first place.”

“He’s saying he’s been blown up so many times, his eardrums got knocked out,” Eliza joined in. 

“Nevertheless, your gift sounds pretty cool. I wonder why Stark hasn’t hit you up yet.”

“I’m not very fond of Tony Stark,” Matt said. 

“Me neither, but you’d make a great Avenger. We need more people like me, people like you. All these enhanced individuals really start getting on my dick.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, haven’t heard that before.”

“What, you more of a loner?”

“Something like that.”

“Then how did you end up with that one?” Clint pointed over his shoulder where Eliza was walking next to Foggy, holding his wobbly frame so he wouldn’t pass out. “Did she fall into your arms or something?”

“She, uh, blasted me through a rooftop door ‘cause I was trying to save her life. She didn’t want any help so at first, so she tried to stab me, and when that didn’t work, she flicked her wrist and next thing I knew, I was through the door, falling about two flights of stairs,” he said. 

The man’s chest rumbled with laughter. “That sounds like one of the most Eliza things to do.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“And at what point did you become friends?”

“Uh, I’m not so sure about that.” At some point, they managed to talk like adults, and then they started kissing, had sex and everything went to shit. The situation they found themselves in was confusing, way too confusing to explain to someone else. He pouted at him. “You know relationships. They get complicated,” he said. 

Clint clicked his tongue. “Don’t I know it? Keeping a marriage going in this line of work is one of the hardest things you could possibly do. And I have three kids, so… but on the bright side, you always have something worth surviving for waiting for you at home. It’s important to have that.”

“Yeah.”

“You have someone like that?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

Clint patted his shoulder. “I’m glad.”

Foggy frowned at Eliza’s desperate attempt to listen to the conversation happening in front of them. “What’s wrong?” he asked eventually. 

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like this,” she admitted. 

“What, Clint and Matt?”

“Yeah, it’s suspicious.”

“‘cause someone from your old life is trying to get to know your new boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Foggy. Matt’s my friend.”

“Well, whatever you are, be happy that Hawkeye- Clint cares. And Matt gets along with him, that’s a valuable trait to have. You know, since our lives depend on your teamwork. I’d rather have three people who get along than three people who hate each other. Just saying.”

She huffed. “I just have a bad feeling about this, that’s all.”

“Stop having bad feelings then!” 

“Wow, thank you for that. Sure. How about I just stop breathing altogether? Or even better, I get a fucking lobotomy!”

Matt and Clint turned around at the same time. “What’re you arguing about back there?” the latter asked. 

“Nothing,” they replied in unison. 

Matt pointed in the direction of the building on their left. Fogwell’s Gym. “We’re here. No one’s followed us so far, let’s keep it that way.”

“You heard the man,” said Clint. “In you go!” He took another careful look around; the coast was clear. With a satisfied hum, he closed the door behind them, locking it with a small arrow that shot straight into the mutilated lock. Better safe than sorry, he thought. 

Eliza looked around the huge space. It smelled like dry leather and sweat. There stood a boxing ring in the middle of the room, a punching bag hanging from the ceiling on the other side.  There was a table and a yoga mat to be found. The windows fogged up, and the walls appeared dirty and started to discolor into a darker brown. On the wall next to the door hung a poster.

Battling Jack Vs. Viktor Creel.

She didn’t remember it, probably because back then, she had practically been a newborn, but the stories traveled even decades after. She knew about Jack the boxer, faintly at least, and she researched him further after meeting Matt to understand the kind of person he was. His accident was a tragedy, losing his father had only been the last nail in the coffin, so Matt turned into a sob story. The poor boy. He was so young when his life went to shit twice, and it all just got worse from there on. 

Clint’s faint voice brought her back. “Eliza?” he said. 

“Yeah.” She stopped tracing the poster with her finger. “I’m sorry, I got distracted.”

“Would you mind telling Matt that he needs stitches? He doesn’t believe me, and I gotta fix Foggy’s forehead before he loses his mind.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes in the process of walking up to him with determined strikes. He had grabbed a first-aid kit for Foggy, not much thinking about himself, even though his jacket was drenched in blood. 

“Sit down,” she ordered. 

“I’m fine. I can do it myself. I need to check the place again and see if anyone followed us. The stitches can wait.”

“You already checked twice, walking in circles ain’t gonna help. You’re bleeding and you’re in shock. Sit. Down.”

He caved at the firm tone of her voice. She pushed him down into one of the chairs, helping him discard his jacket and the shirt underneath. The small piece of glass stuck out of his skin, blocking whatever blood vessel it had nicked. Matt bit back a groan when she pushed down on the skin around it, feeling the inflammation form slowly. She apologized silently by running a hand through his hair. He leaned back into her touch. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his scalp. She didn’t care that the other two could see them. It was just them. 

He took her hand from over his shoulder, feeling her pulse through her wrist. “You’re okay,” he said to convince himself. 

“I’m okay, Matt.”

His lips pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Thank God.”

“I apologize in advance.” She reached into his wound, fast, and pulled out the shard. 

He cried out, “Holy fuck!”

“Sorry, sorry! It’s out. I got it. I’m so sorry. You’re okay.” 

Eliza pressed the gauze to the wound that started bleeding heavier without the foreign object penetrating it and blocking off all blood flow. He could have used a CT to determine the extent of the damage, but she trusted her hands, and they told her that nothing major had been hit. It was just a superficial wound, one that bled a lot. 

“Je- you couldn’t have warned me?”

“I warned you. I apologized in advance.”

“That wasn’t a warning.”

“Technically, it was,” she said. The cut needed a few stitches, but other than that he seemed fine.

She grabbed the needle from the kit, pinching the skin between two fingers before setting the first stitch. His fist clenched around the edge of the table, knuckles turning white. She felt bad, guilty even, for causing him this much pain, but she couldn’t do anything about it. 

He reached around at a particularly painful spot, grabbing her hip in need of leverage. 

“Do you need me to stop?”

“No, keep going,” he said. “I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can, baby, but that doesn’t mean you have to.”

“I’m fine. Just get it over with, please.”

“Alright.” She threaded the needle faster through his wound, though nonetheless precise. He wasn’t the only one sighing in relief when the last stitch was set, the wound closed and covered with a bandage. Eliza was more than glad she no longer had to hurt him.

The scratch on his forehead just broke the skin, nothing that would require medical attention. She circled him to check again, but he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his cheek to the space between her breasts, listening closely to the thudding in her left side. Some of his blood transferred to her shirt. She cradled his head in her hands, listening to the wait his breathing slowed from heavy panting into something resembling healthy lung function, even with all the smoke still blocking his airway. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said. “For a second there, I…” he shook his head. 

“I know,” she shushed him. 

“The reason I wouldn’t let Clint stitch me up was that I didn’t want anyone touching me but you.” She felt the lopsided grin through her shirt.

“I know that, too,” she said. She stroked over his bare shoulders. “I think this is the first time your skin actually feels cold. You should put your shirt back on.”

He nodded. She helped him slide his injured shoulder into the sleeve of his blue shirt. Still, the goosebumps remained in his arms. Eliza discarded her hoodie, which had to fit him, and handed it to him. 

“Sharing is caring, right?”

“Right,” he smiled. If it was the injury or sleep deprivation, he wasn’t sure.

Sliding the hoodie over his head, her scent overwhelmed him. It calmed his racing heartbeat and allowed his thoughts to slow down. She was alive and he was alive, they were both fine. He didn’t have to worry. She wouldn’t slip away. 

With a giggle, she fixed his ruffled hair. While the curls still stood in all directions, she managed to smooth them out enough to make him look less ridiculous. She pressed a kiss to his cracked forehead before returning to clean the excess dust off his face.

He gladly took the care she offered him, knowing he would return the favor as soon as he had returned to his body completely. The different substances scratched his skin in all the wrong places and she knew, which was the reason for her eagerness to get him clean. He loved the way she took care of him, always. He didn’t even have to ask. Her understanding ran deeper than even Foggy could manage.  

Stitches adorned his friend’s forehead. Clint had done an incredible job at keeping them as casual as possible. That was something that ran in the family, it seemed. The Avengers knew how to take care of battle wounds, trying to avoid unnecessary scarring at all costs. They got hurt so many times, they lost count. For every battle, there was a scar somewhere. Their skins told eerily long stories, yet they still tried to prevent even more of those to be added to the list. It hardly worked, they only healed better and much fainted than the usual scar. 

Matt didn’t care about scars. He had enough of them to last a lifetime. Another wouldn’t hurt him much. Eliza thought the same, Clint, too, probably, but Foggy only had scars from his childhood, one’s that he didn’t receive fighting evil. He would be more than mad to see a deep, ugly scar on his forehead. Not that it mattered, all scars are beautiful, but he would mind and that would ruin everything. He wasn’t like them.

Foggy was normal, he was good, and he didn’t deserve to be dragged into the business of almost dying on a daily basis. And even to Matt, the whole Avengers situation was a lot, something he couldn’t remember ever signing up for. But he was in it now, for Eliza, for the both of them. He swore to protect the city and the woman he cared about. He vowed to make sure his friends were okay. He sucked at it, so he needed to try harder. He was ready to try harder, a decision Foggy should never have to make. 

None of this should have become his problem in the first place. He almost died and all of that because Matt didn’t push back hard enough. If he got hurt any worse, it would be his fault. 

Clint raised his eyebrows, sharing a look with Foggy. “Friends, huh?” he said. 

The blond sighed. “Don’t even get me started…”

#matt murdock #daredevil #foreigner's god #matt murdock x original character #matt murdock x ofc #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock angst #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x female!oc #human disaster matt murdock #foggy nelson #matt murdock imagines #marvel #karen page #mcu characters #clint barton #hawkeye #daredevil fic #matt murdock fic #charlie cox #reader insert #ofc

[mysticartsydaydream]

When Stephen and Annabelle’s car drives off the rails and into the metaphysical unknown, things get a little... trippy.

Find out what happens next!

#the chain (keep us together) #doctor strange x ofc #stephen strange x ofc #annabelle rogers #stephen strange #doctor strange #amelia stark #thor odinson #scott lang #kate bishop #clint barton #my fic

[psyzook]

I’m looking to write a MCU/WWDITS crossover fic with the pairing of Clint Barton/OFC. The fanfic would be written in documentary style (a mix of the show ‘The Office’ and ‘What We Do In The Shadows’). The OFC is going to be Australian, and as an American I’ll need help with their history, mannerisms, and traits. Please message if you’re interested in co-writing this fanfic!

#wwdits #what we do in the shadows #wwdits fandom #wwdits fanfic #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #wwdits fanfiction #clint barton #hawkeye #Clint Barton/OFC #clint barton x oc #Hawkeye-centric #Clint Barton-Centric #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic prompt #fanfiction writer #fanfiction writers

[jackfrombaskinrobbins]

road trip as a teenage avenger headcanons!

type of writing: headcanons / scenario

word count: 1k

request: yes / no

dynamic: avengers x teen!reader (teenage avenger series)

characters: lots ofc but i'd say big emphasis on reader (duh), harley keener, peter parker, miles morales, scott lang, clint barton, bucky barnes, sam wilson, tony stark, happy hogan, natasha romanoff, and bruce banner. more are prob in it but i don't wanna type it all out lol

a/n: y'all i think my pictures are getting more chaotic & tbh i think it's a good thing anyways requests are still open, send in an ask whenever :)

taglist: @nutellani @thecloudedmind

(fill out this form to be on my taglist!)

-----------------------✰--------------------

it was an annual tradition for the avengers to go on a road trip.

steve always said it was "team bonding". it was honestly kind of fun.

better than the other "team bonding" you did, which mainly consisted of running long distances!!

anyways, they usually would do it soon after you, harley, peter, and miles finished school (also yes im including miles now bc i love him)

tony would come over the intercom while you all were lounging around and tell you to pack your bags.

packing is always a big issue.

let's just say that SOME people are big overpackers...

COUGH scott COUGH

no offense to him but like ppl have had to sit in the trunk before because of him

and he overpacks with stuff that rly doesn’t make sense

like once y’all went to colorado

and he packed snorkeling equipment

and so you were like “scott. seriously?”

and he looked at you with such a serious face

“y/n. what if all the snow melts? then we would be underwater!! i have an extra snorkeling mask too. i was gonna give it to you, but now idk….”

HAHA

bruce overpacks too

but he overpacks in a good way

guys bruce is like the mom on vacation

well him and tony both

you’d think steve would be but he is NOT

like the man doesn’t even wear sunscreen

and then here comes bruce with a tote bag full of snacks

which tony eats half of by the way

smh

the best part of having thor on a trip is that he will ALWAYS pick you up if you’re too tired

like once he had you and peter under both his arms like footballs bc u got tired

and clint was sad bc he was tired too

he tried to get scott to pick him up but scott wasn’t ready and they both fell and they like hit their heads

that was an interesting day

ok so setting the scene again

you, peter, harley, miles, natasha and bruce were in the middle of a very competitive round of uno

like y’all

competitive doesn’t even begin to cover it

anyways you were about to get uno

FR

you put down your card and suddenly 

“HEY EVERYBODY” “SHHH you’re being too loud” “ohh sorry HEY EVERYBODY”

you started laughing at the quite obvious blunders of thor and clint in the intercom room

“thor, buddy? you don’t need to be kissing the mic when you speak, alright?”

tony, from another room, always quick with the jabs.

“AH! MY BAD STARK. HAHA! THIS MUST BE BETTER”

natasha just shook her head but you and peter, harley and miles were DYING

“ANYWAYS IT IS ROAD TRIP TIME. EVERYONE PACK UP AND BE IN THE FAMILY ROOM IN TEN MINUTES… what? MY MISTAKE. ONE HOUR. THAT’S RIGHT ONE HOUR.”

with that done, you all got up, groaning.

“uno.” natasha smirked at you, noticing that you only had one card.

“darn it!!!” you said. “well, doesn’t matter now. we have to go anyways.”

“we can always resume it later, y/n :) “ 

“fine, nat. but i’m going to win this time!! right bruce??”

“well, kid, you know i’m usually on your side, but…”

“aw, come on!!”

ok fast forward. 

you were in the family room

aw guys isn’t that cute that they call it a family room

bc ur a family

awwwwww

ok anyway

and here comes scott with his fifty bags

“relax sharpay, we’re not gonna be gone for THAT long”

guys i wanted a cool tony nickname and tbh i just remember vaguely that sharpay had like suitcases on the cover of her movie i never even watched it so i could be wrong but that was my intention

“tony, these are my essentials.”

“scott, why don’t you just shrink that down? like seriously, man.” miles remarked, and you couldn’t help but agree.

“hey, y’know what? that’s a great idea miles!!”

and so he ended up shrinking his luggage

but then he couldn’t find it

oh scott

sigh

anyways tony and happy did a lot of car assignment work

to make sure everyone would get there safely

and your car

was

drum roll please

ok also this was only for the trip there

the trip back would be different

ok the car was

tony, happy, clint and peter

tbh this was not a bad car at all

poor miles and harley were stuck with scott, bucky, sam and steve

natasha and wanda and pietro and thor were the other one

although here’s the issue

guys

fr

tony is a bad driver

but happy didn’t feel like driving

and u were just starting to drive so clint was like “NO WAY do i trust y/n in a car!!!”

that goofy clown fr

so tony was driving

oh and btw y’all were going to the compound

tony told you and you were like 

“dude, that’s not a road trip”

and he was like “we’re in the car for more than an hour. it’s a road trip, kid.”

and miles and harley kept texting like theorizing about where u were going

harley said europe

and you were like

harley

anyways ya 

so tony is like swerving and speeding everywhere 

ok maybe thats dramatic

but happy was holding the little bar

and he was like yelling at tony to slow down

meanwhile clint is just singing along to the music thats BLASTING

and u and peter are ready to accept ur deaths

like u literally texted sam a video of what was happening and he almost called happy to tell him to pull over 😭 

sam’s got ur back thats for sure!!

anyways tony pulled into a drive thru

bc he needed coffee

guys hes tony stark he needs stuff like that

and he got u and peter and clint happy meals :D

and clint was so excited like 💀 

love him

happy made sure u and peter had ur seatbelts on 

he said it was bc he didn’t want to have to explain to midtown why yall didnt come back for the next year 😭 

that and “too much paperwork”

smh

anyways tony finally got it together

u and peter decided that he just needed an acoustic song on the radio bc as soon as something more relaxing came on he was a lot better lol

the rest of the drive was pretty alright

i'm gonna do another headcanon set about the avengers actually on vacation but yeah there ya go :)

thats how the road trips work yahoo

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#teenage avenger series #avengers x teen!reader #avengers headcanons #marvel #mcu #marvel headcanons #mcu headcanons #bucky barnes #sam wilson #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #tony stark #happy hogan #thor odinson #scott lang #clint barton #peter parker #miles morales #harley keener

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

to ashes, development

Clint Barton x F!Reader

To Ashes, Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Summary: a development on a mission means it's time to move on.

Warnings: angst, fluff, canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 2,313

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Days Since the Decimation: Three Years, Eighty-Five Days

“Holy shit, you got any idea how fuckin’ hard I am right now?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Oh, gross.”

Clint frowned.

“What? It’s seedy as hell,” you waved a hand. “You take me to the worst places.”

You swore, you could actually see him roll his eyes from the other side of the building. “Not exactly poetic, are they?”

The two of you were on top of an old disused warehouse in Harringay, listening with distaste as the men inside discussed their, ugh, merchandise. What was it with men and guns?

The weapons ring you’d fought in Holland Park was still at large, and Clint had spent the last two weeks tracking them down again. Honestly it was a testament to them that it had taken him this long, even without his old SHIELD connections. Whoever they were, they weren’t street level thugs.

…It made you feel the tiniest bit better about them getting the better of you in the park.

Clint had scrubbed through the local police files for any clues as to where they were setting up house. Between that and his own reconnaissance, he’d managed to track one of their prominent dealers to right under your feet.

“You still clear on the plan?”

Nodding, you unhooked the safety hood of your holster. “Yeah. Yeah, I got it.”

“Y/N…”

You looked up with a raised brow, fixing him with a pointed look. “Are you really about to lecture me about not taking revenge?”

Clint met your eye with an almost exasperated expression. “Point taken.”

“You ready for this?”

“That’s my line.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” you smirked, stretching out a kink in your neck. “Let’s go to work.”

***

You were really getting tired of these guys.

That’s the only thought that came to you as you rolled behind the crates to your left, gun still in your hand. You came to a kneel, your back meeting the wood with a dull thump. They were too prepared, to ready for the two of you.

This wasn’t supposed to end in a shootout. This was supposed to be a quick job, and yet… how did they know about the two of you? They’d mentioned a boss in the park, someone who had guessed you’d been Clint’s back up, but still… they knew you were coming. Not well enough to lay a proper trap, to ambush you before you got inside, but well enough to be ready.

You ducked lower with a curse as wood shattered above you, large splinters raining down on top of you. Thankful for the hood that kept them out of your hair, you exhaled and turned to fire two shots back around the corner. One shot went wide, but you smiled grimly as the second bullet buried itself in a man’s shoulder. He cursed in a heavy Eastern European accent as you ducked back behind the crate.

“Did you have a plan B for tonight, or are we winging this?” you said into your comms. You heard a cry go up among those shooting at you, followed by shouts of confusion and a few wild shots. You winced despite yourself for a second, waiting for a response in your ear to assure you that they’d missed.

“I’m working on one,” Clint replied gruffly, and you released a small, relieved breath despite your faith in him.

“So… winging it, it is then,” you sighed wearily, setting a new magazine into your handgun and adjusting your hold on the grip. “You know, I kinda hate being the one to draw their fire.”

“I’ll make note of it for next time,” he replied dryly, and another gurgling cry went up among the men between the two of you as Clint shot back out of the shadows long enough to take one of them down. He sliced up two – the one you’d wounded and the man closest to him. “Don’t do anything stupid, alright? We’ve got this under control.”

“Do we?”

“You doubt me?”

“I—”

“Fuck this!” shouted one of them – a burly brunette with a greying beard and tattoos scattered over his biceps. “Get one of the pushka out here and end this!”

“Clint—” you said warningly, stealing a glance over the crates.

“Don’t panic,” he warned, and you swore you caught the glimpse of silver in a brief shift of the light to let you know exactly where he was. “You’re not their biggest problem right now.”

“Clint—”

A deafening blast sounded and you fell forward, hands flying automatically to your ears. The crate to your left exploded – as did the wall in front of you, burst apart in a wave of electric blue energy.

“Holy—”

“Y/N!”

“I’m fine, just—”

“Forget the bitch! Get the Ronin!”

You scrambled away from where you’d hidden, throwing yourself behind an old forklift. Too late, you realized you’d left your gun behind, having dropped it when your hands had flown to your ears. Swearing to yourself, you winced as another blast fired. The building itself groaned as they blew another hole in a wall.

“What the hell is that thing?!”

“Just get outta here, Y/N! I’ll distract—”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Barton!”

“Just go!” he barked back. “Now!”

“Goddamn it!” you growled, standing as you heard the men shout that they’d spotted the Ronin above them. You saw the gun – a bazooka-like cannon – turn upward, point directly at the shadowy figure above. “Stubborn-ass-son-of-a—”

The blaster fired, and you swept your arm upward in the same moment. A shield appeared seconds before the energy wave could hit Clint, knocking him to the side. The energy wave just barely glanced off the shield before blowing a hole in the roof and sending debris collapsing down on the men below.

“What are you—?”

“Take the moment, Clint; you can yell at me later!” you spat back through gritted teeth, sprinting towards the group still shielding themselves from falling bricks and timber. “Get out! I’m right behind you!”

Pulling the knife from the back of your belt, you turned it in your grip and plunged it into the hand of the man closest to the crate they’d pulled the pushka from, ignoring the way he screamed. You released it, instead grabbing the first weapon you could from the crate – thankfully, a much smaller hand-gun style weapon – and kept running. A few men managed to get off a few shots before you were clear, and you winced as you felt a bullet tear through your sleeve to graze your forearm.

Feet pounding too loud on the pavement, you made it quickly to an alleyway across the street, tucking your prize under your injured arm as you grabbed hold of the rung of a fire escape ladder with your other arm and swung yourself upwards. You could hear the building behind you continue to collapse as you climbed the ladder, and you winced as a hand gripped yours as you reached the top.

“Are you insane?”

“Are you?” you shot back breathlessly as Clint pulled you up onto the roof beside him. “What the hell kind of plan was that? You were gonna let them shoot you with that thing?”

“I’m faster than I look, Y/N,” he pointed out sourly. “And now they know—”

“They don’t know shit,” you argued. “There’s no way they could see the difference between that shield and whatever the hell they were shooting at us with.”

“It was still really stupid, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome.”

Clint gave you a look that somehow managed to look grateful and exasperated all at once.

“Oh, and I totally get MVP this mission.”

“Is that a thing?” he replied dryly.

“It is now,” you said proudly, finally managing to catch your breath. Ignoring the pain throbbing in your arm, you held out the gun you’d stolen. “Ta-freakin’-da, Barton.”

***

“Lat—”

“What?”

Clint repeated himself louder, but his voice was still muffled by the wood of the door and the spray of the shower.

“What?”

You heard the shower door open and a few dull sounds before the bathroom door in front of you opened. Water dripped over Clint’s bare torso and soaked his hair, one hand clutching the towel slung around his waist. You watched him hesitate as he met your gaze, watched the adam’s apple in his throat bob. “Latveria.”

“Lat– Latveria?”

“This is starting to feel dangerously like a bit,” Clint said dryly, stepping back into the shower stall. You felt heat rise in your face as he closed the door and the towel was thrown up over the top of it. You stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment before closing the lid of the toilet and perching on the edge of it. “That’s where the weapons are being made.”

“And they’ve made it all the way out here?” you replied, swallowing as you tried to pointedly avoid staring at the shower. The stall was made of textured, frosted glass, and while it granted Clint modesty, you could still just make out his silhouette against the screen. His hands rose to scrub through his hair, his profile turned just barely away from you.

“They’re global,” Clint told you, raising his voice over the spray. “I heard reports of them turning up in New York back before… Fury had someone else working on it.”

“And we just happened to stumble onto them in a park in London?”

Clint’s hands lingered at the back of his neck. “They’ve been making bigger waves lately. Guess she’s been getting a little cockier since the Decimation wiped out half the authorities that could work their case.”

“‘She’?”

Clint’s hands moved down his chest to his stomach, and you lowered your gaze to the floor, face burning. Your thighs pressed together despite yourself. You knew your voice had broken slightly as you’d spoken that one word.

“Lucia von Bardas.”

The water shut off, and you straightened slightly, your hands threaded together in your lap. The towel disappeared into the stall. “Should I recognize the name?”

“Only if you’re trying to be familiar with Eastern European politics,” Clint told you, the shower stall opening after a moment. “She’s a pretty big name in Latverian political parties. She’s got interests in most of the big exporters coming out of that place, including Von Doom Industries. There’s been rumors of her dealing in some… less than legal businesses for a while now. Guess now we’ve actually got some proof.”

Clint stepped out; the towel tucked securely around his waist once more. He seemed to be avoiding your eye, wiping down the foggy mirror with his palm.

“And?”

“And what?”

“We’re going to take her out, right?”

You stood up, and Clint met your eye in the mirror. He sighed.

“That expression tells me you’ve already decided on the answer for us.”

***

“I’m starting to miss Stark’s money.” Clint sighed, settling back into the seat beside you.

“You’re the one who books these oh-so-deluxe travel arrangements,” you pointed out, attempting to find a comfortable position against the firm back of the bus seat. “You’d think with your super-ninja-spy-magic you’d be able to get us a fancier ride.”

“I’m not a ninja,” he told you patiently. “Or magic.”

“You’re a little magic.”

Clint shook his head with a smile; you were sure there was faint color on his cheeks as he dropped his head back against the headrest.

“So, how long exactly is this ride?”

He answered with his eyes closed. “…About two days.”

“Two days?!” you repeated, when you saw his smile grow slightly, you scowled. “I kinda hate you, you know.”

“I thought I was magic.”

“Magic and despised.”

He chuckled; eyes still closed. The bus pulled away from the curb, surprisingly empty. The sky outside was already dark, and the glow of the streetlights passed over the archer’s face. “We’re less likely to be recognized on the bus.”

“Curse you and your logic.”

Clint didn’t reply, and the two of you sat in silence for twenty minutes before you spoke again.

“It’s a little annoying how easily you can fall asleep.”

He smirked; eyes still stubbornly closed. “I’m not asleep.”

“…How about now?”

“Were you always this annoying on road trips?” he teased.

You laughed, closing your eyes too. “Oh, please. You’d be so bored without me.”

***

You opened your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleep still lingering. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, but the wide expanse of road ahead of the bus told you you’d left the city a long time again, as did the faint pink glow tainting the deep purple of the night sky. You shifted, brow furrowing as you felt the warmth pressed up against your side and the rough fabric against your cheek. A comfortable weight rested against the crown of your head, and you frowned against the fuzziness still clinging to your tired mind.

Your eyes finally cleared to settle on the color of Clint’s jacket, and you felt his breath fan softly against your hair. You’d fallen asleep, your head falling against his shoulder, and he’d apparently done the same. His cheek was pressed against your hair, his breathing steady and even. A smile touched your lips as you let the sensation of his chest rising and falling lull you back into rest, and you ignored the sensible part of your brain that was trying to remind you that you were supposed to maintaining your distance from him.

Your eyes fell to your lap as your eyelids began to droop, and warmth flared in your cheeks. Your hand was on your thigh, and Clint’s rested beside it, his fingertips settled on the back of your hand. Your skin was warm and tingled under his touch.

Had he… had he been holding your hand?

.

.

.

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

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

[ana-swritings]

Kinktober 2022 - Day 27

Day 27 of Kinktober

Kink: Mirror Sex

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Clint Barton x OFC (Brielle)

Words: 1056

T.W.: N/A

Summary: Let me watch you

Clint has had his fair share of one-night stands and affairs in the past, but none like her. Brielle was from a different breed, she knew what she liked but wasn’t afraid to try new things. She was the first woman to pass the “one-night only” rule. They’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now, strictly for sex, and it didn’t show any signs of ending any time soon.

He was constantly trying to find new things to try with Brielle and his latest idea came from an unlikely source, Vision. He was going to suggest to Brielle they should try doing sex in front of a mirror. How he didn’t remember that sooner was beyond him, but now wasn’t the time to think about how the idea came to be but to put it in motion.

Brielle arrived at the Avengers Tower, a little after 10pm. She had a rough day and sex with Clint was just what she needed to release some of the stress. She knew he would have come up with something new to try that night and she certainly didn’t mind. Anything to help forget the day she just had.

She knocked on the door and Jarvis let her in. Clint met her in the living room and he already had that mischievous smirk on his lips. She knew she was in for a good night.

- “Hey, beautiful.”

- “Hey. So, what do you have planned for tonight?”

- “Really? Not even an ‘how was your day?’? I’m hurt.” – Clint answered sarcastically. He knew that she wasn’t one to lose time with chit-chat. That was one of the reasons why he was so willing to break his rule.

- “Are you really? ‘Cause if I remember correctly, you hate chit-chat.”

- “Okay, fine. You’re right, I’m not and I have something new for us tonight.”

- “Wouldn’t expect anything else from you, Mr. Barton.”

Clint grabbed her hand and guided her towards his bedroom, where a 6ft mirror was already set up at the end of the bed. He looked back at her, waiting for her reaction to the mirror, when he saw a knowing smirk appear on her lips. She knew what that was for.

- “Let me guess, you want to have sex in front of the mirror.”

- “What do you think?”

- “I’m in.” – Just the thought of having sex in front of that mirror was already making her hot. She took a few steps towards Clint and started to take off her clothes very slowly. She knew how much that turned him on and she could see that it was working.

Clint saw her getting closer and closer to him, losing pieces of clothing each step she took. As the clothing hits the floor behind her, he could feel himself getting harder and harder. She definitely knew how to turn him on. With a quick movement, he grabbed her and kissed her, tangling his fingers in her long, brown hair, pulling it just enough for her to gasp and allow him entrance on her mouth.

The remaining of the clothes were quickly discarded to the floor. Clint picked her up, her legs wrapped around his waist, and laid her in his bed. Trailing soft kisses down her neck and chest made her moan, while his hands rubbed her body up and down. He took one hand further south and started playing with her clit. The moans coming from her were making him even harder. The way she moaned his name was driving him crazy.

Clint kept rubbing her clit and put two fingers inside her. Thrusting them in and out made her moan even louder. He could feel her clench around his fingers every time he would push them inside. She was a moaning mess by then.

- “God, Clint, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. I’m almost there.”

Clint kept going, faster than before. He wanted to feel her come. Soon she started to clench around his fingers and came on his hand. A soft moan escaped her lips when she was done. He decided that that was a good time to put on a condom, letting her catch her breath in the process.

Brielle was still coming down from her high when she felt Clint grabbing her hips and turning her towards the mirror.

- “Get on all fours.” – He whispered in her ear and she was more than happy to comply. Clint was well doted and, in that position, she could feel him completely. It was definitely her favorite position. Brielle turned towards the mirror and got on all fours. She could feel him align himself with her entrance and through the mirror she could see the look of pure desire on his face.

Clint pushed himself inside her, slowly at first, feeling her around his cock, how wet and hot she was. One final push and he was all in, filling her up and touching her core. He could see the look of pleasure on her face and that made him thrust inside her again. He was starting slow, he wanted to take his time enjoying being inside her and make her moan, but if she kept moving her hips the way she was doing, he knew he wasn’t gonna last long.

Brielle was loving the way he was pushing himself slowly inside her but she wanted more. She needed more. So, she started moving her hips and she could feel his cock twitching inside her. She could see the way he was focusing so hard not to lose it, but she knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself much longer.

He lost it. Clint started thrusting in and out, faster and harder than ever before.

- “Fuck, Clint. Don’t stop. That feels so good.”

- “You like it like this, hum? Good to know.”

- “God, Clint. You’re fucking me to the core. Keep going. God, just keep going.”

- “Fuck, Brielle. I can’t hold it anymore. Come with me. Fuck, your pussy is so fucking perfect.”

- “Clint, I’m coming. I’m coming.” – And that was his cue. He could see the look of cheerful pleasure on her face, the same he had on his. That made them come even harder. They both came down from their highs only to fall on the bed breathless.

“Yeah, this mirror thing was definitely a good idea.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

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#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #kinktober challenge #mirror sex #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #clint barton #hawkeye #ofc #clint barton x ofc #hawkeye x ofc #day 27 #day twenty seven #ana's writings

[drstrangefictions]

What If...Clint Barton Spoke Up During the Avengers Meeting?

Chapter one

Clint Barton & Original Female Character

Word Count: 300+

Spoilers: "Loki" Season 1; "What If...?" Season 1; "i don't want to be saved" fanwork book 1

Basic Warnings + Trigger Warnings: Nothing, just a short AF chapter lmao

AO3: Link

Master List || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Frigg rubbed the palm of her hand nervously; she looked over her corrective lenses at Clint’s blurred face. “You know, Mr. Stark still doesn’t like or trust me. I’m sure he even set Jarvis to vaporize me on site.” She let out an airy laugh. “He probably thinks I’m some great and powerful sorceress when I’m not. I haven’t really used my magic since you took me in.”

“Lucky for you, princess, Stark isn’t at the tower today to make some snide comments about you. Besides, Nat taught him a lesson the last time he said something in front of her, so I doubt he’ll do it again.” Clint smiled at the adolescent. “We should be in and out.” He opened the front door to the Avengers Tower.

She slunk beneath his arm into the building. “If you were just doing an errand, why did you tell me it was important that I come with you?” She asked.

Clint shrugged his shoulders and followed his daughter toward the elevators. “Nat told me I should get you out of the house more often, even if that means lying to you.” He smiled. “She is right, we need to get you out more. You’re so pasty.”

Frigg pursed her lips and glanced down at the ground. She stopped walking as they stepped up to the elevator. She pressed her knuckles against the elevator button multiple times. “Very funny, dad. Do you, mom, and Aunt Nat think that I’m just some creature living in your attic?”

Clint puckered his lips and nodded slightly. “Sometimes.”

Frigg nodded slowly. “Hilarious.” She stepped into the open elevator after Clint.

“You know that’s a joke, right?” He nudged her arm.

She wavered at the force her father used. “Yeah, I know… The other night at dinner, you asked if I wanted to know how to use my powers and talked about training kids like me to be the next generation…”

Clint nodded.

“I was thinking about it…” Her voice trailed.

“And…?”

Frigg glanced up at Clint. “I don’t think it would be a bad idea to become a new-age Avenger, I want to be like you. A hero. And I want to do good things.”

“You don’t need to be an Avenger to be a hero.”

#clint barton x daughter #clint barton x oc #clint barton x original character #clint barton x ofc #clint barton x original female character #clint barton x loki's daughter #oc insert #original character insert #ofc insert #original female character insert #ao3 link #oc: frigg lokidottir #mcu x oc #mcu x original character #mcu x ofc #mcu x original female character #marvel cinematic universe x oc #marvel cinematic universe x original character #marvel cinematic universe x ofc #marvel cinematic universe x original female character #mcu fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #what if...? x oc #what if...? x original character #what if...? x ofc #what if...? x original female character #what if...? fanfiction #what if...clint barton spoke up during the avengers meeting

[ginabaker1666]

Birds of A Feather- Need You Tonight

The third part of Birds of A Feather. Clint finally works up the courage to ask Blair out after a handful of derailed attempts and encouragement from Natasha. The only problem is that he doesn't know where to take her, and when they eventually get there, it's not what he had hoped for. Happy reading; feedback is always appreciated. Also posted on AO3.

“I know it’s more than a crush, Clint.” Natasha ground out as he landed a blow to her ribs. 

“Tasha, less talking. More punching.” 

The pair were currently occupying the training room; having no trouble throwing each other around like rag dolls for the sake of working out. 

“Im just saying,” Natasha ducked an oncoming kick and managed to sweep Clint’s feet out from under him, sending the archer onto his back. Natasha took the opportunity to look down at him. “If you don’t ask her to the Christmas Gala, you’ll miss your window.”

“I’ve been trying to ask her for a drink for weeks, and that keeps blowing up in my face.”

“Clint, don’t make me ask her for you.”

Just as Clint was about to respond, pushing himself up off the mat, Natasha was on him again, pinning him down. 

“Ask her, Barton.”

Leaving him where she had taken him down, Natasha strode from the training room, towel over her shoulder, and a smirk on her lips. 

“Fuck…” Clint scrubbed a hand down his face, thinking of what Nat had just said to him. 

He knew she was right, because to him, Blair was the type of woman who couldn't possibly stay on the market long. Clint had to make a move before it was too late. 

“Damnit Tasha, why are you always right…” he grumbled, moving to exit the room and head for his level of the tower for a hot shower and a pot of coffee. 

As he waited for the elevator, he considered just how he might ask her. This was bigger than asking her for a few drinks after work; and doing just that had proven difficult for Clint. Every time he seemed to get close to doing so, something got in the way. A mission, or too much paperwork on her desk, or a migraine brought on by said paperwork. 

He was able to breeze through conversation with her if he kept it light, humorous, and kept her on her toes. It’s why he tended to poke his head out of the air duct that lead to her office; no matter how many times she jumped out of her skin when he did it, the smile on her face when she looked up at him and scolded him, mirth in her eyes….yea, it was totally worth it as far as Clint was concerned. 

The elevator doors opening snapped him out of his daydream, and stepping inside, he noticed quickly that he wasn’t alone. Blair was on her way up to the office to start her day. 

“Morning, Hawkeye.” 

She turned to face him, hip braced against the side of the elevator, coffee cup in one hand, and a few folders in the other, tucked against her chest. 

“Well this is awkward…” he grinned, deflecting with humor right off the cuff. 

“Oh?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Do superheroes not say good morning?”

“Oh no, we do, but  usually you’re already at your desk and I’m hanging upside down when we say good morning…”

“Should I take it back? Save it for later maybe?” 

The elevator stopped on the Avengers floor before he had a chance to respond, and they exited together. Blair stepping off to the right and Clint moving towards the left. 

“I’ve got to shower,” He spoke by way of saying goodbye. “Tasha beat me up good this morning.”

“I’m not surprised,” Blair grinned. “See you later?”

“Oh, there’s a very good possibility.” Clint winked. 

“Let me rephrase,” Blair chuckled. “Will I see you or the top of your head?”

“That has yet to be determined, honey.”

Laughing, Blair turned to head down the hallway, calling back to Clint without turning around. 

“I’d rather the former, not the latter, Barton!”

Clint turned, watching Blair walk down the hallway with a dazed look in his eyes, his mind wandering back to the conversation he had with Natasha in the gym just moments ago. 

“I’ll be damned…” he whispered, a smile on his face as he turned to continue his journey to his quarters so he could shower and make his way to see Blair. 

It took Clint longer than he wanted to before he was able to get to Blair’s office. After showering and running things over in his head a thousand times, he had begun his initial journey to see her, and was sidetracked the first time by Steve. The soldier had stopped him to remind him he had three mission reports due by the end of the week; Clint had brushed him off with a polite nod and a promise to get them turned in soon. The second distraction came in the form of Natasha, who stopped him to make sure he was going to do what she told him to do earlier. He had yes’d her to death while trying to get out from under her thumb. He had to remind himself that she was his best friend and meant well. 

Walking down the hall to her office, he silently hoped that she wasn’t on the phone or swamped with work; either of those would end up sending his plan in a downward spiral. Shaking himself out of his daydream, he straightened his shirt and poked his head around the doorframe. She was focused on the screen of her computer and mumbling something that he couldn’t quite pick up. When she pushed the papers in front of her out of the way and sighed, Clint took the momentary break in her work to knock twice on the door and grab her attention. 

“Am I interrupting?” He asked. 

“Would it make a difference either way?” Blair smiled, and he could see any previous frustration drain from her face. 

“Nah, not really,” he smiled. “You know me.”

“I do…” she nodded. “I know the door might be a little foreign to you but, you can come in you know.”

Clint pushed off the doorframe and entered her office, choosing to walk past the two chairs on the opposite side of her desk and perch himself on the windowsill just behind her chair. Now he was closer, and as she turned her chair to face him, Clint could just see a glimpse of what was stressing her out. Tony’s latest interview where he had shot an arc reactor blast from his newest piece of tech straight through the wall of The Today Show at NBC studio. Complete accident, naturally. 

“So…” she grinned up at him. “Nice to see your face and not just the top of your head today.”

“I aim to please.” He chuckled, the archery joke not lost on her. 

“Of course.”

The pair sat quietly, only the sound of the music playing surrounding them, before Clint spoke up again. He hoped she couldn’t sense how nervous he really was. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure,” she relaxed further back into her chair, gaze focused completely on him. “What’s on your mind?”

“Are you…are you uh, free?” He asked, and specified further when he noticed Blair looking at him questioningly. “Tomorrow night?”

“I am, yes…” the smile blossomed on her face as she realized what he had just asked her. “Are you asking me on a date, Clint?”

“If you want it to be a date… no pressure, it can just be two friends having drinks.”

“And if I want it to be a date?” 

“Then I want it to be a date, too.”

“Then it’s a date.” She smiled. 

Clint let go of the breath he was holding, and he hoped that she couldn’t see just how relieved he was that she had said yes. Now, all he had to do was figure out where to take her. 

He had spent the remainder of that day, and half of the next wracking his brain for ideas. Dinner and a movie was cliche and he didn’t want to come off as not trying. It was the holidays and the city was already overflowing with tourists and shoppers; he wanted to stay somewhere a little more discrete. By lunchtime the day of, Clint had come to terms with needing help, and so, he found himself in the lab with Tony and Bruce. 

“I’m telling you, it’s the holidays, you can’t go wrong with a rooftop bar.” 

Clint stood in the lab while Tony continued to mess around with his latest project, the billionaire not even looking up. 

“It’s December, Tony.” Bruce chastised from the other side of the room. 

“I’m with The Doc on this one,” Clint nodded, offering Bruce a thankful smile. “It’s December.”

“They have heaters and you can get an excellent view of the skyline while you eat, and drink, before you take her home and warm her up.”

“Tony!” Bruce warned. “Blair is a nice woman….not that she wouldn’t want to, with Clint…sorry Barton, you know what I mean.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that, but you just had to make it weird, Stark.” Clint laughed. 

“Hey, what am I good for if not lewd suggestions to break the tension.” He grinned. 

“You know a good place then?” Clint was relenting, and only because it was the eleventh hour, the day of the date, and he hadn’t decided where to take her. 

“JARVIS, can you make a reservation for Agent Barton and Blair at mine and Pep’s favorite rooftop lounge?”

“Of course, Sir.” The AI responded. “I will send the details to Agent Barton’s phone.”

“Thanks J,” he turned then, facing Clint. “Done; now, all you have to do is have fun.”

“Easier said than done, but, hey, you never know.” Clint called as he exited the lab. 

He needed to make a quick pit stop at Blair’s office, before making his way to his own quarters to change before getting in a quick spar with Natasha. And, because he was a gentleman deep down, he wanted to pick her up at home, not just leave straight from work. 

“Knock knock…”

“Is that Clint Barton at my door? Or am I seeing things?”

“Very funny.” He grinned. 

“You can come in.” Blair gestured to the empty office, a smile on her face. 

“I can’t stay, Tasha wants to spar.”

“Well, I’d suggest going easy on her but…” 

“But she’ll just hurt me if she knows I’m pulling my punches.” Clint finished. 

“Exactly,” She replied. “But I would like to see your face later.”

“Ten-four, ma‘am,” he saluted. “Oh and before I forget, I came here because I need your address.”

“Oh! Are we not going straight from here?”

“Is it alright that I pick you up?”

“Absolutely alright,” she beamed, grabbing a post-it off her desk and scribbling down her details. “What time should I be ready?”

“7:30?”

“Do I get a hint at where we’re going?”

“Nope,” he gave her a cheeky smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “But I’ve heard the word ‘chic’ might help you figure it out.”

“Ooh, mysterious. I like it.” 

“See you tonight, Darlin.”

The subtle insertion of the nickname threw her a bit, and before she could reply, Clint was out the door and on his way to the training center. If Blair spent the rest of the day with her head in the clouds, dreaming of Clint, well, that would be her little secret. 

Clint broke out into a jog as he checked his watch; it was 7:40 and he was ten minutes late picking up Blair for their date. Cursing, he skidded to a stop in front of her building, taking only a moment to catch his breath before taking the stairs two at a time. Pressing the buzzer with her last name on it, he waited only a moment before her voice filled the air. 

“Clint?”

“Hey Darlin!” He called back. 

The sound of the door unlocking told him that maybe he wasn’t so late, if she was letting him upstairs instead of meeting him downstairs. 

Clint was about to ascend the stairs to the fifth floor, when he heard the telltale sound of an elevator arriving, and a quick glance over his shoulder saw an older woman exiting, eyeing him suspiciously, before he gave her a smile and stepped into the lift. 

Pressing Blair’s floor, he let out a breath as the doors closed and the quick journey up allowed him a moment to collect himself. It was just that, a quick journey, and the doors were open again and suddenly he was in front of Blair’s door, fist raised to knock gently. 

When the door opened, there was Blair, dressed for a night out, a radiant smile on her face. 

Hi!” She beamed, stepping aside to let him in her apartment. “Sorry, I  just need two minutes, the train was delayed coming home, so…”

“Don’t rush, take your time.” He replied, taking a moment to look around at her home. 

Modest one bedroom (he assumed) with a clean kitchen, large living room; clean but somehow decorated in a way that emulated her style. He could faintly hear music coming from her bedroom, and smiled when he realized it was Duran Duran. 

“I don’t want to make us late,” she called from her room. “My luck, I’ll end up costing us the reservation.”

Before he could reply, the sound of a pair of shoes falling to the wood floor rang out. 

“We have plenty of time, please don’t rush.” 

She came around the corner at that moment, heels clicking on the floor, and Clint could swear he felt himself wanting to memorize everything about the way she looked. 

She was wearing a pair of high waisted, dark wash jeans, a deep green off the shoulder blouse that was tucked in, and a pair of suede camel boots that reached just over her knees. He thought she was gorgeous every day he saw her at the tower, dressed for work, but she was gorgeous like this too, and he wouldn’t fail to let her know. 

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, and she couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’m a lucky sonuvabitch to get to take you out tonight.”

“Clint…” his name fell from her lips softly, a light blush working its way up her neck to her cheeks. “Thank you, you sure know how to boost my confidence.”

“Well, I’ll do it for as long as you’ll let me.”

Reaching forward, Blair gave his hand a gentle squeeze, before stepping away to grab her coat and purse. 

“So, where are we going on this mysterious date?”

“Don’t laugh,” he started. “But I thought we could have drinks and a bite to eat, and see the tree.

“That sounds like a great idea, what are we doing first?”

“This is the part you can’t laugh at, but Tony made the reservation for us so…”

“Am I underdressed?”

“No, no, it’s a rooftop lounge with a view of the tree, he said he and Pepper love it, so…”

“So it’s ultra fancy I’m guessing?” 

“Couldn’t say,” Clint laughed, holding his arm out for her. “But I’m up for an adventure if you are?”

“Lead the way!” She grinned, pulling her coat on and allowing Clint to lead her out of the apartment. 

“Wow…” 

Blair looked around once her and Clint had been seated in a cozy booth, the Manhattan rooftop bar was decorated from top to bottom in what she might describe as ‘Christmas Chic’ and she could tell why Tony and Pepper liked it so much here. It was cozy, the numerous heaters and tall plexiglass enclosure kept the heat in and the wind out, while providing an incredible view of the skyline. Directly below them was the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree. A pillar of the holiday in New York City and a huge tourist attraction. 

“I can see why they like it here so much,” Clint peered over the edge, down to the tree, eyes watching intently. 

“Are you assessing potential threats, or watching the ice skaters?” Blair teased, leaning forward towards him. 

“The skaters, definitely,” he chuckled. “That guy just ate it, hard.”

Blair leaned closer, her hand falling over Clint’s as she turned to see the skaters below them, her chuckle falling short as she felt Clint turn his palm up to capture her hand in his. 

“You’re right…” she grinned softly, turning her gaze on him. “He did eat it.”

“Told ya…” Clint grinned, his gaze on the woman next to him, the moment theirs to enjoy. 

Until the waitress popped their bubble of intimacy with her arrival, shrewd and rough around the edges. 

“Hi! Can I start you both with a drink?”

Clint inwardly sighed, and only straightened when he felt Blair give his fingers a gentle squeeze, her smile turning on the waitress. 

“Can we have another minute to look over the menu?” She directed herself at the waitress, not missing the way the other woman was eyeing Clint. 

“Sure! Let me know whenever you’re ready…” she was speaking pointedly at Clint, ignoring Blair directly beside him. 

She turned and walked away with what one could only describe as an exaggerated sway to her hips and a bounce in her step. 

“Okay, she’s rude.” Clint grumbled. 

“I think she has a crush on you,” Blair chuckled, facing him once more. “And she definitely knows who you are.”

“Which means everyone here will know.”

“Clint, it’s okay… that doesn’t really bother me.”

“It’s frustrating,” he sighed. “I wanted to spend time with you, not taking selfies or signing autographs. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bad but…”

He broke off on a sigh, and Blair took no time at all in making a split second decision.

“You trust me?” 

Clint’s head snapped up to look at her, a twinkle in her eye that told him she was planning something. 

“Yea,” he nodded, a smile forming. “Yea, I do.”

“Get your coat, come on.”

Standing, she shrugged her own coat on, and grabbed her purse from the booth before sliding out and holding her hand out for him to take. As soon as his own coat was on, he slipped his hand into hers and allowed her to lead him from the rooftop, and if she noticed the waitress staring after them in annoyance, she didn’t show it. It wasn’t until they had taken the elevator back down, exited the building, and were waiting for a car did Clint finally speak up. 

“You do have a plan, right?”

“Call it a long standing contingency plan.” She spoke against the wind, throwing her arm out as another yellow cab made its way towards them. When the car stopped, both were quick to get in, Blair rattling off an address in Brooklyn. 

“Brooklyn?”

“Yes,” she settled in her seat, and pushed some of her hair away from her face before facing him. “I used to live there, but, working in the city, this is just a little more convenient.”

“So, your long standing contingency plan is…”

“I won’t lie, it’s a complete dive. A real hole in the wall kind of place, but it'll give us the privacy we both want. And they have a decent juke box.”

Clint was silent a moment before he began laughing, head back against the seat, eyes crinkled at the corners. Blair found him even more handsome if at all possible. 

“I should have just let you plan our date.”

“Well, at least this way we saw the tree.” She winked. 

“Because you know Tony; he’ll ask-“

“Pester.” She cut him off. 

Clint laughed again, nodding his agreement with the pretty brunette sitting opposite him. He vaguely caught the cab driver making eyes at her through the rear view mirror, and Clint subtly scooted closer to Blair, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his side. Worried he may have been too forward, he chanced a glance down at her, and when she gave him a smile that reached her eyes, he only gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

They remained that way, silently watching the city lights fly by from the cab’s window, until they pulled up to a bar in Brooklyn. Clint threw a few bills at the driver to cover the ride and a tip, helped Blair from the car, and shut the door behind him. As the car peeled away into traffic, Clint allowed Blair to lead him into the dimly lit bar, just catching a sign that wasn’t even lit that read ‘The Hideout’. 

“Your contingency plan is….an actual dive…”

“When dates go sour, or I feel like watching a ball game without someone hitting on me or quizzing me on whether I can name five players on the Yankees, I come here.”

“Old reliable.” Clint grinned, following her as she walked all the way to the end of the bar, pulling out two stools for them. 

“Charlie’s an old friend, and even if he knows who you are, he won’t advertise it.”

“That’s good to know.”

“It’s nothing fancy… so, I hope that’s okay.”

“More than,” he slid onto the stool next to her, watching as she hung her coat from the back of the chair and placed her bag next to her. 

A man in his forties approached them, he was bald and had a myriad of tattoos ranging from Freddy Krueger to the logo for 3-1-1 and offered Blair a smile. 

“Bad day?”

“Quite the opposite,” she smiled. “Charlie, this is Clint.”

Charlie appraised him briefly, his eyes giving a flash of recognition before he held his hand out, offering the archer a friendly grin. 

“Welcome to this shit hole,” Charlie laughed. “Happy to have you, Clint.”

“You got a great place, man, I love these kinds of bars.”

“Well, it’s been a slow night so, you two should be safe to play the jukebox and whatever you had planned.”

“Thanks man,” Clint nodded his appreciation, his gaze falling on Blair. “What are you drinking, Darlin?”

Blair hadn’t had a chance to answer before Charlie had a short rocks glass in front of her, and Blair shook her head at him. 

“What if I wanted something else,” she laughed. “You always jump the gun.”

“And you always order the same thing,” Charlie rolled his eyes, mocking her. “Tequila and club with lime juice, chilled.”

“I knew you were a tequila girl!” Clint exclaimed, calling back to their first night hanging out at the tower, where she had helped him polish off the last of the margaritas. 

“Shh, Natasha didn’t need to know that.” Blair winked. “Now, what are you drinking?”

Clint looked over the beers on tap before settling on one, Charlie quickly pouring it and leaving the two to tend to his other customers. 

“Cheers,” Clint held up his glass, Blair carefully lifting her own to meet his. “To your contingency plan.”

“To sharing my contingency plan with someone special.” She smiled at him, bringing her glass up to her lips. 

Clint took a sip of his beer, nodding appreciatively at the taste. His eyes fell on a group of twenty somethings who had just walked in and gathered at the other end of the bar, and it was almost like he was waiting to be noticed. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Blair turned in her seat so she was sitting sideways, and facing him, urging him to do the same. 

“Sorry, it’s second nature to be on guard when I’m out.”

“Understandable. Do you want to switch seats? I’ll sit facing the door?”

“No, also better if I can see who’s walking in.”

“You live up to your name, Hawkeye.” 

“A blessing and a curse.” He agreed. 

He caught one of the patrons telling his buddy to put something in the jukebox, and thinking on his feet, he pulled out his wallet and handed Blair a ten dollar bill. 

“Make good choices.” He winked, gesturing to the jukebox over his shoulder. 

She grinned excitedly, snatching up the money and hopping off her stool to make it to the bright touch screen jukebox before someone else, using the ten dollars from Clint plus five of her own to make sure all her songs played on priority. 

It was some time later, the jukebox still playing Blair’s songs, that she and Clint were laughing like teenagers at the bar. The younger crowd had been annoyed at the song choices she had made, grumbling and complaining to Charlie who had told them to suck it up or find another bar for the night. Some of them had taken him up on that offer. 

The song changed, and Clint threw his hand up in victory as the opening blasted through the bar. 

“Big INXS fan?”

“Not really but I love this song in particular…”

Blair couldn’t help the smile, it seemed no matter what, she couldn’t make her face do anything except smile while she was around him. It wasn’t the alcohol, or the vibe of the bar; it was the man she was with, wrapped up in buttery leather and jeans, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes as he smiled at her and continued to sing along to the song, body moving with the beat of the music. 

As the chorus kicked in, Blair sang along with him, taking his hands in her own and moving closer, their noses touching as they made their own fun, in their own little corner of the world. 

“I’ve got to let you know, I’ve got to let you know…” Blair whispered so only he could hear. 

“You’re one of my kind.” Clint finished with a grin, moving to press his lips to hers quickly, surprise coloring his face when after he pulled away, Blair chased him for another. 

“Hi…” He smiled, faces still close together. 

“Hi…” 

“Do you want to go to the Stark Christmas gala with me?”

“Yea,” Blair grinned. “Yea, I do.”

Tags: @rowdy-redhead @mizzzpink

#Clint Barton x Original Female Character #Clint Barton Fanfiction #Hawkeye x OFC #Clint Barton x Reader #Clint Barton Imagine #Gina Baker Writes

[avengerscompound]

The Interview - Chapter 16

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings: none

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count: 2126

Summary:  Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America.  Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 16

Excitement bubbled in Melody's stomach as she rode the Avengers Tower elevator up with Bobbi.  They’d both been to the tower plenty of times.  They’d met all the Avengers.  This was different though.  They weren’t there to sleep over with their prospective boyfriends.  They weren’t there for a party that half of the city had been invited to.  They weren’t there for work.  Tony Stark had invited them to dinner with the team specifically to get to know them.  He’d even had an assistant call to find out if either of them had any special dietary requirements to make sure they felt completely correctly catered for.  He wanted them to feel comfortable because for the Avengers this was the equivalent of meeting the family.

It felt like a big deal.  A relationship marker.  This was the part where the people who loved them best decided if Melody and Bobbi were good enough for them.  Melody just wished it had been Steve’s idea.

Bobbi reached over and gave Melody a push.  “It’s going to be fine.  It’s just dinner.”

Melody pushed her back. “I know.  I know.  It just feels like a big deal.  I don’t know if I should ask Steve to come meet my parents after this or what.”

“Well, at least you get to think about that as an option,” Bobbi said.

Melody frowned and put her arm around her cousin.  “I’m sorry.  I know.  But you got me.”

Bobbi rested her cheek on the top of Melody’s head for a moment.  “Yeah, I’ve got you,” she said.  “And Bucky’s already met you, and he thinks you’re great.  So I’ve got nothing to worry about.  Still, there are my sisters, and I hold out hope mom and dad will come around.”

The elevator opened, and to Melody’s surprise, instead of opening out onto the party deck where she’d first met the rest of the team, it was straight into an apartment.  She could only assume this was the penthouse because it appeared to take up the entire floor, and at least the one above too, as there was a large glass staircase that wound up on the left of the room.  Ahead of her were three steps that led to what appeared to be a living room and the top of the Chrysler building dominated the view out of the floor-to-ceiling windows.  The Avengers were all sitting on the couches together and they stood when the doors opened.  As well as Steve, Bucky, and Tony there, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, James Rhodes, Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, Thor, Maria Hill, Sharon Carter, and Pepper Potts were all there.  She’d met them all at the party, though some only very briefly, and while most she knew just due to their fame, there were others whose job it was not to be known by the general public.  Melody had Steve go through everyone’s names before coming just so she wouldn’t embarrass herself.

“Here are the guests of honor,” Tony announced, when they approached he stepped forward and kissed each of them on the cheek.  “Welcome, welcome.  Have you all met?  I’m sure you know most of them from their do-goodings.  That’s Maria and Sharon.  Anyone else you might not know?”

“It’s fine, Tony,” Steve said as he put his arm around Melody.  “They both met everyone at the party.”

“Though some of us only briefly,” Hill said.  “It’s nice to see you still around.  I don’t think any of us have ever seen that before.”

“This is the first person I’ve even seen Bucky actually date,” Clint said.

“There was that blind date Natasha set him up on,” Sam replied.

“Alright, alright.  We don’t all need to be going over my love life in front of my girlfriend,” Bucky said.

Bobbi took his hand and kissed his palm. “Your past doesn’t bother me, mi corazón.  They can tease.”

“Great, permission granted,” Sam said, rubbing his hands together.  “This is going to be great!”

Bucky groaned and ran his prosthetic hand down his face.  “Fuckin’ great.”

“Come on, come on,” Tony said.  “Dinner won’t wait forever.  Let’s go through.”

Melody had never seen a dining table as large as the one in Tony’s dining room in person before, and while she’d seen ones on TV just as big or maybe even larger, they featured on shows with vampires, or large mafia families, or epic sagas with Kings and Queens.  Those tables were always dark and heavy hardwood.  Often they were ornately carved.  This was nothing like those tables.  It was rectangular and made of what looked like a single piece of highly polished obsidian and sat on a support of polished chrome in the shape of an x.

Steve pulled out one of the black padded chairs for Melody and she took her seat as everyone else sat down around her.  As soon as they were seated two waiters came out and began filling glasses.  One poured either red or white wine into the wine glasses, while the other poured water into the highballs beside them.  Already set out on the table were platters with olives and warm sourdough bread, as well as meatballs, stuffed zucchini flowers, focaccia, and some kind of arancini.

Melody helped herself to a little of everything as the rest of the group filled their plates.  She was used to eating with Steve and Bucky at this point and wasn’t surprised to see how full Bucky’s plate was, nor how Steve had leaned more into the high protein things like the meatballs over the empty calories of the white bread.  She was surprised to see just how much Thor had taken.  He had dragged an entire platter of meatballs down to himself and added handfuls of everything else to it.

“Speaking of people’s love lives,” Melody said.  “How’s things going with Mattie, Sam?  He talks about you a lot.”

Sam’s eyes lit up at the mention of his new relationship.  “It’s going great,” he said.  “I mean - you know what it’s like dating an Avenger.  I don’t always have a lot of free time, but we’re having a great time together.”

“Ohh… is there another meet-the-family dinner coming up?” Tony asked, a teasing tone in his voice.

“I’ll happily let all of you degenerates meet him any time,” Sam teased.  “But we’re a little way off taking him back to Lousianna.”

Tony put his hand on his chest.  “I’m wounded, Tweety.  You wound me.”

The appetizers were already starting to run out and the waiters started to bring out bowls of a rich soup filled with clams still in their shells.”

“That’s Zuppa Di Vongole,” Tony explained.  “It was one of my grandmother’s favorites.  Or if you don’t eat fish, you’re getting minestrone.”

“How many courses are we having tonight, Tony?” Steve asked.

“Just six,” he said.  “I didn’t go overboard.”

Sharon, Sam, and Clint started laughing, while Steve, Pepper, and Rhodey shook their heads, the look of resigned disbelief was mirrored in all of them.

“Thank you so much for doing all this, Tony,” Bobbi said.  “In a way, it reminds me of dinners with my whole extended family.  Only we all cooked together as well.  And it was a lot more dysfunctional.”

“Give it time,” Bucky muttered.

“You don’t want to cook with all of us,” Bruce said.  “There’s only a couple of people here who can cook.  Most of us burn water.”

“Well part of the fun is passing on tradition, isn’t it?” Bobbi said.  “Bucky’s a great cook.  We’ve been teaching each other different recipes.”

“I didn’t know you liked cooking, Bucky,” Sam said.

Bucky shrugged. “You don’t know lots of things about me.”

Sam looked at him deadpan.  “Well I was going to offer to share some of my family recipes with you, but see if I do now.”

Melody was using one of her clam shells to pick out the clams from the others, but there was still a lot of soup left in her bowl compared to the people around her.  She was a little worried she’d still be eating by the time the next course came out.  She leaned up to Steve’s ear.  “I might need your help to eat all this.”

Steve chuckled.  “And you’re asking me?”

“Think of it as a public service.  Your poor hard done by girlfriend needs to save face,” she whispered.

Steve laughed harder and stole a quick kiss.  “Okay, I’ll help you,” he said.

“Thank you, honey,” she said and kissed his cheek.

Steve shook his head, smiling affectionately as he scooped some of the soup from Melody’s bowl into his own.  She was just getting to the bottom of the bowl when the waiters came out with the next course.  This time it was a salad course.  Most everyone got a Caprese salad, though Tony and Pepper seemed to have gone for something without dairy that featured pear and red cabbage.

“Still avoiding dairy, Tones?” Rhodey asked.

“Well, cutting it down.  It’s hard when there’s a Ben and Jerry’s flavor named after me,” Tony said.

“That’s not the humble brag you think it is, Tones,” Clint said.  “Most of the people here have Ben and Jerry’s flavors named after them.”

“And not one of them is as good as Phish Food,” Maria said.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Tony said.  “Hey now, I won’t hear a thing against Stark Raving Hazelnuts.”

Melody was starting to think she might make it through the entire six courses as she ate her salad.  It was light and fresh, and it didn’t feel like it was filling her up at all.  Then the waiters began bringing out the next course.

“Gnocchi with pesto cream,” Tony said.  “But it’s a cashew cream.”

Melody took a sip of her wine before she started eating.  Before she even took a bite, the conversation had started up again.

“Stark said you interviewed him, Lady Bobbi,” Thor said.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she said.  “We had fun.  You should do it.”

Tony snorted and took a quick swallow of his water.  “Sorry.  I just imagined what it would be like for your team to be making food from 2000 BCE.”

“Just big slabs of meat roasted over coals,” Melody laughed.

“I would not complain,” Thor said.  “A feast is a feast.”

“That sounds better than what I had to eat.  Everything I had was set in jello,” Tony said.

Clint laughed loudly. “Amazing.  I can’t wait to watch it.”

“So what’s the premise?” Sharon asked.

“Just a casual interview while you eat food made from recipes in magazines that came out the year you were born,” Melody said.  “We have other ideas too.  But so far we like that one.”

“That does sound fun.  I hate doing interviews and I’d do that,” Clint said.

“You’d be so welcome,” Melody said.  “I was also thinking of doing a series where we compared things from different chains.  Like pizza or burgers.”

“Oh, oh, I want to do that one,” Clint said.

“I’ll call you to set it up. Thanks, Clint,” Melody said.

“So what did you have to eat Tony?” Natasha said.

“There was a red cabbage salad in a jello that tasted like acid,” Tony said. “This loaf made of creamed liver, this sandwich that was made to look like a cake.”

“Mmm… sounds so appetizing,” Rhodey said.

“I was a little worried he was going to get revenge with this dinner,” Bobbi joked.

“There’s still two courses to go,” Sam said.

Tony laughed hard.  “See, I’m a better person than I thought.  That didn’t even occur to me.”

Despite Steve’s help, Melody was very full by the time she finished the pasta course.  She noticed that most of the other mortals were struggling too.  Pepper’s plate was practically full when they took it away and replaced it with Tuscan-style lamb shanks, while the non-meat eaters were given eggplant parmigiana.  Thankfully, the conversation flowed freely around the room.  So while Melody was feeling overfull, she didn’t feel uncomfortable at all.

The fact that Steve’s friends were all so open to accepting both Melody and Bobbi was gratifying.  Nothing was quite as gratifying as seeing Steve and Bucky enjoying having Melody and Bobbi fit in with their friends.  By the end of the night, Steve had never looked so in love, and it made Melody’s heart feel full every time he looked at her.

By the end of the night and after a serving of Tiramisu served with Vin Santo, Melody not only felt very full but very content.

She said goodnight to everyone and headed to the elevator with Steve.  “Will you spend the night?” Steve asked.

She looked up at him and smiled. “You couldn’t keep me away.”

// NEXT

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