#good looks and good timing: the clint barton story

[bobbimorses]

hi i think u have a post about clint being really pretty throughout several comics and i just spent awhile being a year-deep scrolling on ur blog and i can't find it. do u know what i'm talking about here lol

so glad you asked,

[wandascrush]

Let the light in

Summary: The Avengers are separated after being hunted down and forced to live life on the low, causing a painful break up with the love of your life. What happens when she finds you again? Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

A/N: Based off of this request

Warnings: Angst, violence, loneliness, blood, breakup, team separated, depression, kissing, comfort

Song: Let the light in- Lana Del Rey

The team sat around the dark living room, the familiar voice of one of New York's most famous news anchors echoing in through the air, “Good evening New Yorkers, today we open our headline with some shocking news:  Former Stark enterprise building, located on the upper east side, exploded earlier today by a missile attack on the Avengers. Sources say Tony Stark was currently using it to house new plans for an updated Avengers training arena and larger compound.  Two architects, three investors, and one security manager was injured. Two of the victims later succumbed to their injuries after the explosion. Reports confirming the source of the violence are still unknown, however the Avengers were believed to have been inside the building at the time- hence the attack. The founding members of the Avengers Initiative such as Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Thor Odinson, Y/N L/N, and Clint Barton have yet to speak out. This marks the second targeted attack on our world’s heroes in nearly a month since the Maximoff twins incident in Barbados, where Pietro Maximoff was nearly assassinated. It raises the question for us all: Are our heroes being hunted?” 

The screen went black, bye bye news lady. The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. “What’re we gonna do Tony?” You got no answer. 

 “Cap?”  

For the first time in the decade you’d known the team, (except for the Maximoffs & Peter) you saw uncertainty in all of their eyes. Tony threw his classic sunglasses on the couch, squeezing the middle of his nose in a useless attempt to massage an oncoming headache away, “Fury… thought it’d be wise if we split up for awhile-,” he was quickly shut up with protests from the group.

“It’s too dangerous. This isn't easy for me, but we're facing a threat that's beyond anything we've encountered before. I've crunched the numbers, run simulations – the Avengers need to disband temporarily. We scatter, go off the grid, and regroup when the dust settles.”

“This is bullshit, Tony. You know it is. This is exactly what they want-” 

“Tasha,” your gentle touch on her back always softened her heart, but not today. She didn’t even look at you. 

“It’s not the end, Nat. It’s like a strategic retreat. We're ensuring we'll live to fight another day. For once, I’m with Stark on this. We play it safe, keep low profiles, and spread out,” Steve sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and taking a hard look at everyone, “we’re family, we keep each other safe. And this is how we do it.” 

As much as the idea made your stomach churn, he was right. He always was. This was your family. Every holiday, happy memory, laugh and cry and battle and bruise was all with them. This team is how you met the love of your life. You loved each other, and if this is what needed to happen, then you’d do it. 

But that didn’t sit well with your girlfriend. 

“No, end of story. We’re not separating.”

“You know I don’t think it’s just you’re choice, Natasha. I mean we have to decide this together,” your fingers lightly brushed the edge of the bed, nervously playing with the soft sheets you had just bought.

“Exactly, and I. Said. No.” She was acting like a stubborn toddler that didn’t want to eat her veggies, crossing her arms and raising her voice an octave.

It was then when you saw something different in her eyes, those beautiful green orbs that held so much sadness and joy at the same time. But today they were cloudy, like a storm was brewing in her mind. You gently slipped off of the bed and stood in front of her, pressing your forehead to hers, “You know it’s going to be okay, right?” soft palms caressed the side of her cheek, immediately feeling her sigh into your touch. “It’s going to be okay, you’ll see.” You wish your words were true. 

    Two months later the Avengers were spreading out all across the U.S., saying choked up goodbyes and packing your things. It was agreed upon that there’d be a team meeting once a month, every month, for the next year until you could figure out who the threat was, and how to eliminate them. You thought San Francisco sounded nice, fresh, and a little more peaceful than the hustle and bustle of New York. And it was, for a time. You got a haircut, dyed your gorgeous h/c locks to a rich h/c shade. You bought a sweet little home with a bay window over looking the Golden Gate Bridge, started building an in home gym and library, and kept an extremely low profile. You finished file work and other Avengers paperwork at home, with a high security grade laptop. Natasha on the other hand, refused to dye her hair, or keep a low profile. She didn’t want to admit that she was depressed, but it was glaringly oblivious. Being thrown out of her comforting routine put a wrench in Natasha’s life that not even you, her beautiful girl, could fix. All day she would do her paperwork, workout, and just keep to herself. It was like you weren’t even girlfriends anymore. Finally, in the fifth month of living “undercover,” she finally agreed to go on a low key date with you to a small, cozy bar on the outskirts of the city. You got dressed up for the first time in what felt like forever, did your makeup real pretty, and even did braids on Natasha’s silky hair. She looked happy, finally. Adorning a brown leather jacket, dark blue jeans, and a low cut green top- her classic silver arrow necklace sitting pretty on her chest- your girlfriend looked like her old self again...absolutely perfect. 

“You look gorgeous, baby,” swift arms swept you into a gentle kiss, smirking against your lips and pulling you close to her waist. 

You thought that night would be perfect, but by 11 pm you two were home and icing her bloody knuckles, static tv voices echoing in the background. You felt hot tears rising to the surface, but you never let them fall. It’s not like you were just mad or angry or disappointed…no this was something more. You were embarrassed. Embarrassed by Natasha. You thought you’d never say that sentence, but then there you were, apologizing to the bartender for your girlfriend's rowdy behavior, and throwing $20 to the guy she completely knocked out before nearly carrying her out of the bar and into a cab. Within the next two weeks she packed her bags, and your home was changing once again, now empty. 

  8 months later 

    The team said that you’d only be separated for a year, or less, but you were coming up on a year pretty soon and none of you were any closer to figuring out who the threat is. But you, you moved on, strived forward, and kept going. Your breakup with Nat had been one of the most painful moments of your life, but you didn’t let it stop you. These days you hardly cried over her at all, never even thought of the old days. Well, except for last Tuesday, when you saw one of her old sweaters and lied in bed for the rest of the day, or on Thursday when you heard her favorite song and- well, never mind that. You were at the top of your fucking game. 

  Ms. Romanoff, on the other hand, had moved out of San Francisco completely and settled in Washington D.C. from the last you heard. She attended the monthly zooms, same as you, but you two never addressed one another. Natasha pushed all of the heartbreak she harbored deep, deep down until she would lie down for bed and reach out next to her…but you were never there. 

[unholyhelbig]

Part three of loan shark natty

Title: The Oversight [Part 3/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 3465

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, guns, blood, death, sort of dark nat if you squint, horrible grammar

[A/n: If you guys haven't picked up on it yet, this will be slow-burn. Also, thank you so much for the positive response to this story, it means so much!]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

It had been two weeks since the incident that you had deemed ‘the business proposal’, though, if you were being honest, you knew exactly what it was. The bruising against the side of your face, fading from a deep dark purple to an ugly muddy brown reminded you of the encounter. The faster you healed, the more your nerves started to prickle dangerously.

Each time the brass bell above the diner’s door would ring, your eyes would flick to the entrance. With bated breath, you’d study the tired businessman, the English major running on nothing but burnt coffee, or the single mother just looking for some reprieve. Much like yourself.

Clint Barton was the last person you expected and wanted to see. He was certainly the last person you wanted to see, despite the sheepish smile on his face. There was shame etched into his features and a strange softness to his eyes that starkly contrasted the man who had nearly broken your jaw.

His hair was sprinkled with droplets of water, a sweatshirt dotted from the persistent drizzle that seemed to plague the city. He dutifully wiped his feet on the mat and made his way over to you. Instead of his usual booth, Clint sat on the last stool and scratched the stubble on his chin.

He glanced at the menu as if he were going to order something different than his usual. Maybe he wouldn’t order anything at all. But, you had a feeling you weren’t going to escape the conversation at the tip of his tongue, nor the obscenities at the tip of yours.

You poured him a cup of coffee and set it in front of him without being asked. Clint could swallow down a whole pot of extra caffeinated without a second thought. For now, you urged him to pace himself silently.

“You got a couple of minutes?” He asked behind the rim of his cup.

The diner was mostly empty. It was the middle of the workday and had been a slow four hours thus far. There was only so many times you could wiped down the same table and replace the salt in the shakers.

The cook made eye contact with you as he poured alcohol from his flask into off-brand orange soda. You got a short shrug in response. Otherwise, the place was empty. Clint had timed his arrival perfectly.

“Sure. You’re not going to beat the shit out of me again, are you? Those cameras aren’t hooked up, but this is still a public place.”

“Look, I wanted to apologize for that. Bad information breeds bad reactions. I was doing what I was told. You’ll learn that that’s the only way to get anywhere in this practice.”

He stated it plainly as if you weren’t silently inducted into a criminal ring. You weren’t exactly sure what they did but if it was half as bad as what they’d done to you, it was trouble. Clint could sense your unease. He placed his mug down and lifted a bandaged eyebrow.

“Hold your grudge, y/n. I sure would. Natasha simply told me to collect you after your shift. So, you can sit here and glower at me like a grumpy little monster or you can make conversation and we can become friends.”

You hated how good the second suggestion sounded. He was charming in an annoying type of way. You’d never clicked with anyone in the diner before, certainly not the only other employee that stood behind the grill.

Clint was staring at you like he knew you’d already folded. He covered his smirk with another sip of coffee. You wanted to wipe the cocky grin off his face. He had effectively taken a shot at you, that much was true, but you had crumbled just as easily under Natasha’s wishes.

“Friends is a stretch.” You sounded out.

“Acquaintances, then.”

You conceded with a small nod and Clint smiled in a way that could only be genuine. He swallowed off the rest of his coffee and made small talk with you as you hustled around the restaurant. There was a small rush after classes at the community college let out. But you were able to carry on a conversation, learning a little more about him.

He’d been friends with Natasha for a long time. That much was clear by the way his eyes crinkled along the edges when he’d recall memories that stretched past their current affairs and into childhood.  

“We met when we were twelve. I’d just moved to town and was this scrawny, awkward mess of puberty and acne. An easy target is what I’m saying. A lot of neighborhood boys would target me, but I was faster than them. It usually worked in my favor, but there was one day when it had just snowed and it was impossible for me to get any headway.”

Clint regaled you as you filled up his mug for the third time. You lingered behind the counter, chin on your hand as you listened intently.  

“Six of them cornered me at a construction site. I didn’t even know how to begin to fight back. I was beaten close to death and then I heard Nat. She ran head-first into danger, tried to take on every single one of them. Of course, she got the shit kicked out of her too, she was just a kid there was no way for her to win. But that didn’t’ matter because she got back up every single time. Eventually they got cold, or bored, probably both.”

You didn’t want to admit that you were impressed. “Shit, that’s quite the meeting.”

“She’s tough, y/n. Not someone you want to fuck with.”

“So, this is a warning, then?” You smiled.

He shrugged his shoulders “A cautionary tale.”

He drove a 1970 Dodge challenger that smelled like cherry leather polish. It was the nicest car you had ever seen, that is, until he pulled up the iron-gated mansion on the outskirts of the city. There was a brilliant view of the harbor, the water a deep and dark blue that seemed endless, an orange sun casting delicious shadows against the docks.

The house was brick, built in a southern style with a large wrap around porch and a stone fountain in the center of a circular gravel drive. It was three stories of decadence, surrounded by large oak trees and the deepest green grass. This was the home of a Politian, or of someone who had one under their thumb.

Three black SUVs were parked in tandem outside. An equally pitch Corvette Stingray was parked directly in front of the steps. You struggled to muffle the thoughts of Natasha in the front seat. The vehicle suited her, and while you most certainly were not a car person, you knew the value of a ride like that.

Clint squirmed with pride, that same smile on his face. It was one that often accompanied him, you’d learn. He took the steps two at a time and waited to open the doors until you’d caught up. He removed his jacket and draped it over the coat rack just by entryway. You, however, were preoccupied by the elegance of the home.

The floor was a checkered black and white, stretching all the way down a corridor to open storm doors, letting in a crisp spring warmth. Light danced against art that cost more than your entire apartment building. White stairs clung to the wall and curved to the second floor. To your left, a dining room. To your right, a living area that had the softest white carpet, and a cream grand piano that your fingers twitched to run over.

There was a sour scent of bleach that reached your nose, and it was only then, did you realize the blood. It was distilled, a quiet pink color, that had been diluted by diligent scrubbing. The girl, the one that was often at Clint’s side herself, was on her knees a few feet away.

She held a scrub brush that looked like the ones used to clean the grout at the diner. Her forehead was damp with sweat, a few stray strands of dark hair falling into stormy gray eyes. The front of her shirt was stained in the majority of the blood. You failed to see how she would have much to clean from the floor. Yet, the bucket of water next to her was a frothy mess of red.

“An hour,” Clint tsked, shaking his head “I left you alone for an hour. I specifically said that I was coming back with a guest, and it was imperative not to freak her out.”

“I’m not freaked out.”

You were absolutely freaked out. But you were quick to realize whose home you were in. The scrubbing of a crime scene was startling, and you wanted to turn tail and run. However, you had seen worse before and your life had been spared once. You weren’t going to get squeamish now.

“You sound freaked out.” Clint turned his attention back to the girl “And its bad manners. If I were the police?”

“You wouldn’t have gotten through the gate.” She stood, dropping the brush into the bucket with a defiant splash. She was taller than you thought, the deep red of her collar harsh against her skin. There was a smile on her lips, and she reached out a hand to you. “I’m Kate.”

“This is y/n and she’s not going to shake that.” Clint batted Kate’s hand away “Who was this?”

Kate rolled her eyes. It was an action that you yourself would never do. Clint may be a bit aloof, but you had seen him in action. Namely when he was three seconds from snapping the bones in your face. She had no fear of him, though. There was a cockiness, a charming attention, to her stance. He didn’t’ seem to mind, or he had gotten so used to her attitude that seeped into him instead.

“I don’t know. Yelena brought them in. If you’re so concerned about the mess, maybe you should take it up with her.” There was a grin that mirrored Clints. She knew she’d won. “I can go get her if you want.”

“No need. Where’s Nat?”

“Out back by the pool. It’s a lovely day.” She leaned close to you, smelling of cleaner, of tin and of the slightest bit of chewed mint. “It’s great to meet you, y/n.”

You were careful not to lose your footing on the slick floors. Clint nudged the bucket with his toe as he walked by, sloshing about the soiled water. Kate cut him a look that only you saw, but it was one that was almost playful. She shook her head and went back to her task.

There were two things you had picked up from the conversation; Clint was afraid of Yelena, and there was somewhere soundproof in this house that she had taken someone that had lost a lot of blood. You shoved both thoughts to the back of your mind when you exited onto the back porch.

Natasha was stretched out like a cat in the sun. She wore a black bikini that left very little to the imagination. You could feel the blush against your cheeks as you averted your eyes to anywhere else, though, you swore she arched her back from the chair at the sound of your footsteps.

Her hair, still slightly damp, was cascading down her shoulders. She wore a pair of sunglasses, a book that was marked halfway through rested on the table next to her. She had clearly given up on reading, instead fully devoting herself to the sun.

Clint didn’t acknowledge her current state, nor did he have an adverse reaction to it. Your mouth was dry, and you shoved your hands into your jeans to keep them from trembling. It was a mix of fear and attraction that caught you off guard on a mostly empty stomach.

She moved her glasses down the expanse of her nose as you approached. Her stare was a startling green, raking across your form. She quirked an eyebrow. The specter of a smile on her face. Clint had noticed something you didn’t, his body language changing into something unreadable.

“y/n,” Natasha purred your name. You fought back a shiver. “You’ve healed nicely.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“ma’am? What manners you have. That’s severely lacking around here.”

Clint rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. You did the same, partly out of fear. But mostly, you were distracted by the scars against her stomach, on her arms and down her back. It wasn’t something you had noticed at first, nor did you permit yourself to stare. Whatever had been done to you when they’d first taken you was nothing compared to what Natasha had been through. Her body told a story, one that you longed to learn.

“Hey sharpshooter,” She turned her attention to Clint “I think Yelena might need your help downstairs. Y/n. Stay.”

It was a clear dismissal, and one that he didn’t’ take lightly. He patted you on the shoulder before entering the house once more. You listened to his footfalls for a few moments, holding your breath until you started to feel your vision falter.

You’d been alone with Natasha before. But this felt different. Heavier. The questions that you’d had these last two weeks were meant to be answered. She gestured for you to sit on the opposite chair, which you did carefully, body tightened to make yourself as small as possible. She removed her glasses entirely, a strand of russet hair falling into her gaze.

“You’re going to quit your job at the diner.” She said.

“I can’t do that,” Your response was automatic.

Natasha sat up, placing her bare feet adjacent to yours. Her knees were pressed against your own. She easily could have pushed your own open and she stared at you as if she contemplated the fact herself. Instead, she lilted her head and peered at you.

“What I mean, ma’am, is that’s my livelihood.”

“Oh, I understand. I wasn’t perfectly clear. You work for me, now. You’re on my payroll. I’m sure it’ll be quite an upgrade.” She leaned closer. “Do you know what I do, y/n?”

You swallowed hard and shook your head. There was an inkling. But it was just speculation. Someone with a home like this had a good handle on business. Natasha certainly conveyed fear, and commanded respect. So did the people who worked for her, willing to take a bullet in moment’s notice.

You weren’t there yet, but you were sure with a little persuasion, you would be. Part of you had felt slighted. They’d pulled you from your life, from your daughter, and threw you into this without any type of explanation.

“The harbor behind you is a center of trade. Whoever controls the harbor controls the city, and for generations my family has had a monopoly when it comes to what comes in and out. There is not a single freight that can dock here without getting past me. Recently, that’s been threatened.”

She sighed and worked a hand through her hair. Her stare flicked past your shoulder, focused on the expanse of water that had been a staple in your life. You’d walk along the docks, chat with the vendors on the way to work. It seemed like a friendly place.

“There are two prominent families in this city, Y/n. The Romanov’s and Danver’s. For the past three years they’ve been pushing back against the real leadership, getting creative. Looking for change. But we simply can’t allow that to happen. Things work as they are.”

You had a feeling that this was the core of her beliefs. Things how they were weren’t so bad. Each person had their own struggles but when it came to integral crime on the streets, in the boroughs, you hadn’t noticed anything and that was the way you liked it. Ignorant, maybe. But it was none of your concern. Not until now.

“A lot of people work for me, but my numbers are dwindling. It’s hard to find good help anymore. You know how it is.”

You didn’t.

“There’s something… in you that I admire. A perseverance to live and protect and you’re going to do exactly that for me.” Natasha stated this plainly. “The Winter Soldier will be predisposed. Not permanently. But I would like you to replace him.” 

There must have been disbelief written across your features because Natasha laughed, actually laughed, as your jaw fell open. It was a lovely sound; you must admit. Bucky was well known in the neighborhood. Even without being knee deep in mafia sludge, you had heard of him. You feared him. And the thought of stirring the same reaction seemed unattainable.

“I… what about Clint?” You asked dumbly. He seemed like the natural choice.

“He’s got his hands full with an heiress who, I’m sure you can tell, is a bit aloof. But extremely valuable. Much like yourself.” She quirked an eyebrow “if it’s experience, you’re worried about, don’t be. I’ll train you myself.”

She stood and tapped your leg with her fingers, arousal shooting straight to your core at the slight contact. Your body almost refused to move, but you were quick to snap out of it when she smiled wolfishly down at you. “Now, have you ever killed anyone?”

Your voice was pinched. “No.”

“We’ll have to change that, darling.” She started to saunter away, grabbing her silk cover-up from the back of a nearby chair. She slid it over her shoulders, and it hugged her form with just enough ferocity as the bathing suit. “Come, dear. I have just the person in mind.”

The basement was significantly cooler than the rest of the house, bathed by the sun. As you descended the stone steps, you fought the urge to smooth your fingers over your skin to quell the frigid air.

Natasha seemed unbothered. She led you into a large room that you assumed was soundproof. It was a fairly empty room, lit with artificial bulbs that reminded you much of the warehouse they’d kept you in for the weekend. This seemed more malicious though. Not something to extract information exactly. A form of punishment.

A man was strung up from a low hanging rafter, his feet barely touching the ground. Rope was tied around his wrists, his hands above his head. Blood dripped like syrup from his lips, from a wound against his side. His left knee looked unnatural and broken.

You fought back a groan at the sight, at the smell of him. One eye was swollen shut, his fingers curling when he noticed Natasha’s presence.

Clint’s back was to you, his fingers dancing over an array of tools. He hummed a Metallica song, stopping at a pair of pliers. Yelena had her arms crossed over her chest, walking a slow, predatory circle around the man.

“No,” Yelena took the pliers from Clint “He will need his teeth to talk.”

Your throat tightened. This was the same woman who had sat next to your daughter in the diner. The one who had complimented her art and your job at raising her. She was easy to have conversations with, charming in the purest sense.

She turned towards both of you. “Natasha, you shouldn’t wear open toed shoes here. It is unsanitary.���

The woman next to you was not admonished in the slightest. Not by the cold or the harsh words of Yelena. Instead, she studied the man in front of you. He was in rough shape. If he hadn’t talked yet, he wasn’t going to. That much was clear.

This felt like the first time you served without following around an older, more experienced waitress. Your fingers were trembling and there was a wild nervousness that was in the pit of your stomach. Eventually, you learned, and it was second nature. You wondered if that’s what Natasha wanted. For you to learn not to cringe away from things like this. Just like the Winter Soldier.

As if to prove your thought process, Natasha said “Which one of you has your gun?”

They both pulled them out of various places at the same time, without hesitation, to the question. It made sense that Natasha didn’t have a weapon on her, not with the outfit that she walked around in. The cover-up was too tight against her skin, too revealing.

Yelena was closer, so Natasha grabbed the weapon from her. “Have you ever shot a gun before?”

“I have.”

Your second foster father was a deputy sheriff in Minnesota. On half-frozen nights, he’d return home from the local bar reeking of sour alcohol and sweat. The door to your bedroom would creak open and he’d drag you from bed, barefoot and in your pajamas.

Most of the time, he had cans set up on an old picnic table that had rotted through. At first, it was your job to set the cans back up and fight off hypothermia. But after three or four sleepless nights, he taught you how to shoot. His body was warm against your back and the first time the gun kicked you had nearly broken your nose.

You considered yourself a good shot when it came to cans, wild turkeys, and even the occasional buck. This was different. This was a human being that was taking in heaving breathes and fighting to pull himself up to give his bad knee a break.

“Do you know how to aim?” Natasha asked.

“It’s been years.”

“Okay,” She breathed.

You flinched when she moved behind you. Her warmth was all encapsulating. She smelled of sunscreen, and vaguely of the salt of the ocean. Natasha’s fingers pressed against your hip, giving you a small squeeze, signaling for you to take a step back.

Her other hand dropped the pistol into yours, heavy and warm. Her hand trailed up your arms, giving you goosebumps, fingers tightening around your own until you held the gun towards the man. The stranger.

Natasha’s chin was on your shoulder, her breathe hot against your cheek. Her voice came out in a whisper. “Right there. When you’re ready.”

She’d aimed the tip of the gun directly between his eyes. You could hear your heartbeat in both ears, vibrating through your body. It wasn’t hesitation, exactly. In this moment, it was his life or yours. Clint and Yelena watched you carefully, with intent.

You took a deep, shaking, breath and clenched your eyes before pulling the trigger. You expected some sort of blow-back. The same throbbing pain that you recalled from shooting at the cans. The scent of gunpowder mixing with cold.

None of those came.

Instead, there was a small click. The safety was on, and though you had squeezed the trigger with the intention to kill, it simply did not fire. You inadvertently slumped back into Natasha and the hand on your hip snaked around your middle, holding you close.

“You won’t have to kill often,” Natasha explained “But it’s good to know you’d do it without question if I tell you to.”

“Oh, Natasha, do not play with her. It is not nice.”

Smoothly, Natasha worked the gun from your hand and switched the safety off before you could blink. She fired two shots in succession, not releasing her hold on you. Your ear was ringing and the man in front of you slumped in his bindings.

“Okay. Very effective. You owe me bullets.” Yelena took her weapon back. “You are cleaning this up.”

“That means I’m cleaning this up.” Clint said.

Natasha hummed in agreement, finally pulling herself away from you. “I think this a job for two, don’t you, y/n?”

There wasn’t room to disagree with her. Not when you could only hear out of one ear, your skin still buzzing from her lingering touch. You could have sworn you felt her own heartbeat against your shoulder blade.

 But you’d never bring that up.

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[red1culous]

Body Electric

Lulled into a daze by the monotonous chirping of cicadas you bolt upright at her voice. Your heart is beating a mile a minute at her sudden outburst.

“Sorry.” She smiles apologetically at you sitting on the wooden rocking bench. Taking a seat next to you her jean covered thigh rubs against yours. You place a hand on her bouncing knee, more for comfort than pleasure. She glances down at your hand and smiles a little before tilting her head upwards to the light evening breeze. Her forehead is furrowed as she concentrates on the sounds slowly enveloping her. 

“Everything ok?” you ask. 

She lets out a soft sigh. “I guess so.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing.” You nudge her with your knee. 

“I’m just tired” she says as the furrow in her forehead deepens. You watch her carefully. Her eyes are bright. She looks tired but she is beautiful. “It’s just been one of those days.”

“Good or bad kind of day?”

“Bad in the beginning but it’s looking up now that I get to end it with you” she says finally looking at you. Her eyes are hooded, speculative, dark. You could almost smell the lust wafting off of her as a small smirk plays off her lips.

“I thought you said you were tired” you say leaning forward and planting a kiss in the crook of her neck. 

She angles her head away giving you more room. A soft moan escapes her lips. “We’re not exactly alone” she manages quickly glancing back towards the porch door. 

You hum. “Just be quiet.”

She laughs out loud before catching herself. She curls herself around you and wraps her arms around your shoulders pulling you closer. “When was the last time I was able to be quiet with you doing that?”

You giggle into her neck and give it a quick nip. “Never. But there’s always a first time for everything.” You skim your fingers up her legs to the apex of her thighs. You can feel her shiver under your touch, her skin hypersensitive from the anticipation. 

Her breath is hot against the side of your face. You hear her swallow hard when you finally cup her.

“Aunt Natty?”

She jolts in your arms almost head butting you in the process. 

“I heard your voice and wanted to say goodnight.” The little girl runs out onto the porch and launches herself onto Nat’s lap. She has a death grip around Nat’s neck and wraps her tiny legs around her waist. You take the brunt of the attack with the way that Nat was sat positioned on you.

“Baby what are you still doing awake?” Nat says her voice two octaves higher than usual. 

“Read me a bedtime story pleaseeee, Auntie Natty” she clings onto Nat like a koala and you chuckle watching them. Nat sends you a glare.

“Ok, but can we bring Auntie Y/N with us too?” Nat asks and she’s met with nothing but small snores. 

You shake with laughter as you slap your hands over your mouth. Heat blooms across your girlfriends chest and radiates from her face. 

‘Stop it’ she mouths at you. 

Disentangling herself from you she stands making sure her passenger was still fast asleep. Once satisfied she mouths again ‘come on’ before extending a hand out to you. You take it as she pulls you to your feet. You kiss her on the cheek as she slides hand around your waist pulling you closer to her. 

“We’re finishing this later” she whispers.

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Whatever you say Auntie Natty” you reply chuckling into the quiet night. 

------

I have a taglist if you want to join.

@arcturusseer @readings-stuff @blackwidow-3 @justyourwritter69 @cutelittleakira @jareguiromanoff @sk1nnyftt @official-clint-barton @nattysredhair @black-kittycat18 @owloftheshadows @angryalpacachaos @iliketozoneout @marvelonmymind @wastdstime @lovelyy-moonlight @beholdagaywriter @inluvwithfictionalwomen

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Life Goes On by Ed Sheeran

Part 2 of Eyes Closed by Ed Sheeran

Summary: For the past year, your mom never left you for long and if she did you would come with her. But now duty calls and you can't go with her. Will she keep her promise of always coming back to you?

Relationships: Maria x daughter!reader, Yelena x niece!reader

Warning: Secret Invasion Spoilers, Major character death, grief, angst with small fluff, guilt, everyone is sad and everyone needs a hug

Word count: 4.7k

“Are you sure you have to go?” You asked for the 100th time as soon as you learned your mom had to go off on a mission. You were lying on her bed, feet dangling over the side as she packed her bag. Without looking, you knew she was suppressing a sigh and pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You know I wouldn’t go if it wasn’t important,” that was her response every time you asked and you believed her. For the past year, Maria refused any mission that would take her away from you. If she needed to travel you went with her or stayed with your grandmother. You traveled to DC, California, and Texas with her. But now you had no idea where she was going. She grabbed your hands and pulled you up to a sitting position, smiling at the pout of your face. “I won’t be gone for long, a month at best, and you’ll get to spend time with your grandma and the Bartons.” That sounded fun especially since your grandmother loved to spoil you but you wanted your mom.

“Why does it have to be you?” You whined. You knew you were acting like a child, throwing a tantrum but you didn’t care. “Why can’t Uncle Nick go?” This time your mom didn’t suppress your sigh. It was a sensitive topic regarding the former director of SHIELD, who took off after Tony’s funeral and ignored all her calls.

“Have you packed?” She deflected your question with one of her own. You nodded with a smile. “Good, I have something for you.” She let go of your hands and opened the drawer of her nightstand. She pulled out a small box and she sat down next to you as you opened it. It was a golden heart-shaped locket. You placed the box next to you and opened it, one side was a picture of you and your moms, and on the other side was a solo picture of just them. You smiled.

“Can you put it on for me?” You asked, handing it to her. She took it and the cold metal was placed around your neck. “Thank you,” you smiled and turned around to hug her. “I love it.” You held onto her tight as she kissed the top of your head.

“I can see the smoke coming out of your ears because you are thinking so hard,” you giggled as she tickled your sides. You rested your head on her lap and looked up at her. She was smiling down at you, patient as you got your thoughts together. With a sigh, you played with the locket.

“Have you heard from Yelena yet?” You asked. That was another wild ride that occurred within the past year. When Clint was spending time with his kids in the city, he somehow got involved with the Tracksuit Mafia, and a Black Widow assassin was hired to kill him. That assassin so happened to be your aunt. He called your mom for help. In the end, Yelena didn’t kill him but she disappeared. You and Maria were trying to get a hold of her as you so desperately wanted to meet her.

“No,” she said. “But she has spoken to Kate a few times,” you liked Kate. She was full of energy and her dog was cute. “She’ll reach out when she’s ready. Black Widows are very special.” She tapped you on the nose.

“Can you tell me the story of you and Mama met again?” It was a story you’d heard thousands of times from Natasha telling it one way and Maria telling it another. It was your favorite story. Maria stole a glance at the clock and you watched the internal debate she was having with herself but she smiled.

“Of course, I can,” she moved so her back was resting on the headboard and your head was still in her lap. “So you know Uncle Clint was supposed to kill your mama but he disobeyed a direct order and gave her a chance to defect to SHIELD,” your mom started. “I didn’t trust her at first and I thought it was a horrible idea to bring her into the organization but your mama,” she sighed but her smile told you she wasn’t sad. “Was persistent and did everything to win me over. She flirted with me every chance she got,” you giggled. If Natasha was here to tell this story, the roles would be reversed. “But I kept my guard up until Fury assigned us to the same mission and she saved my life.” Your mama took a bullet for her. “I sat by her bedside for three days.”

“And when she woke up, you yelled at her.”

“Hey,” she gasped. “Are you telling the story or am I?” You laughed as she tickled your sides. “We didn’t officially get together until she became an Avenger but she,” you frowned as you watched a tear leave her eye and fall down her cheek. With gentle hands, you whipped it away. “She was my best friend.”

“Second to me, right?” You teased and it pulled a deep laugh out of her.

“Oh 100%,” she lay down and cuddled up against you.

“I’m gonna miss you,” she sighed, kissing the top of your head.

“I’m going to miss you too.”

*

You exited the airport with your suitcase in hand and backpack tight on your shoulder. The air in Iowa was so different than the city air. Your mom said it was cleaner. “Hey squirt,” you turned around at your nickname and saw Clint standing by his pickup truck, a sign in his hand with your name on it. The sign was cute but what caught your attention was the one-eyed golden retriever that sat next to him.

“Lucky!” You ran over to them. The sound of his name being called caused the dog to get excited and tug on the leash. He didn’t have to wait long for you to kneel at his level. You dropped your suitcase and wrapped your arms around his neck as he attacked your face with kisses.

“What am I chopped liver?” Clint said, throwing his arms to the side. “I almost died for that dog.”

“Oh, you are so dramatic,” you looked up to see Lila hanging out the passenger window. “Humans like dogs more than people,” you giggled and stood up.

“Hi Uncle Clint,” you said. He stared at you, blinking once then twice.

“You have dog drool all over your face.” He deadpanned. You used your shirt to clean your face before he hugged you.

“I didn’t know you guys had Lucky,” you said, opening the door to the back of the truck. The golden retriever jumped in and followed. Clint helped you with your luggage. Once you were buckled in, you sent a quick text to your mom and grandmother that you were with Clint.

“Just for a few more days,” Lila said. Clint got into the driver’s seat and started the drive back to the farm. “She’s helping Yelena free a few Widows.” You saw Clint glance at you through the mirror. Your mom must have told him of your desperate attempts to meet your aunt.

“So they’ll be here to pick up Lucky?” You scratched the dog underneath his chin.

“Probably just Kate,” Lila said. “Yelena doesn’t come over much. She still has a lot of guilt for you know trying to kill my dad.” You smiled at that but your heart ached. They got to meet Yelena, the one person you could ask what your mam was like in Ohio. Natasha told you about the mission and how the Red Room gave her a loud mouth, annoying blonde of a sister.

‘I think you’d get along with her,’ Natasha said, decorating a cut-out Christmas tree cookie.

‘Yeah?’ You questioned, not looking up as you were very focused on decorating your star with yellow icing. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘You can get anyone to like you,’ she tapped your nose. Her finger was covered with green icing. ‘And you are a great reminder of family. She needs that.’

“So, what’s she like?”

*

You loved spending time with your grandmother. For two weeks, you visited the zoo, bookstores, and the candy store that was right down the road. But you were excited to have people to hand out that were your age. Being at the Bartons also meant you reached the halfway point and you were two weeks closer to your mom being home. You missed her so much. Almost every night, you would speak with her on the phone and if she couldn’t she would send you a text goodnight. You were counting down the days but until then you were having fun with Lila, Cooper, and Nate. You played video games with the eldest, had sleepovers with Lila, and put up with Nate’s crazy games of make-believe. When Kate would come to visit, you would join the archers in the makeshift training area Clint built. But your favorite was driving the four-wheeler, and exploring different parts of the property. Lila and Cooper showed you a fort they built, that not even their parents knew about.

However, Yelena refused to meet you. You caught Kate a few times on the phone with her talking about you. The archer would give you a sorry smile and walk away continuing the conversation. She was desperate to get to know you through other people but refused to meet you. It hurt more than you wanted it to.

*

“You’re going to be gone for another month,” you said, pacing the length of the porch. Your mom sighed.

“Something came up and it’s going to take a little bit longer to clean it up,” you did not like the sound of that. “And I won’t be able to call you as much.” That stopped you from pacing.

“Mom, what’s going on?”

“You know I can’t tell you that,” you sat down on the steps and played with the locket around your neck.

“Right,” you sighed. It aspect of her job was so frustrating. “And your being safe.”

“Yes I am,” you heard shuffling on the other end. She must be lying down. “Just a few bumps and bruises. Enough about me, come on tell me about everything you are doing in Iowa. Are you giving Clint a hard time?” You giggled.

“Always.” Once you were done on the phone, you stayed outside and took the photo out of your pocket. “I’m scared,” you confessed to the photo. “I need her to come home, okay? Please keep her safe.” You heard the front door open but you didn’t bother to turn around to see who it was.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” Laura asked, sitting down next to you. You rested your head on her shoulder.

“I want her to come home,” the mother of three sighed, wrapping her arm around you and kissing the top of your head.

“I know you do,” she said. “She’ll be home soon.”

Limited contact missions were your less favorite. You would send her good morning and good night texts, and texts throughout the day but she wouldn’t respond for a day or 2 after. You never knew when she was going to respond, it was maddening. The Bartons knew you were upset and they tried to keep you busy - fishing, swimming in the pond, archery practice, and day trips to the nearby town. It was fun but it wasn’t helping the ache you felt in your chest and a nagging worry that grew at the base of your neck. For a week, there was no response to your never-ending stream of texts and your worry only grew.

*

You were in the kitchen, getting an afternoon snack when the house shook. It was the tale sign of a plane visiting the farm. Dropping the apple, you ran to the front. By the time you made it outside, a ramp was lowered and Clint and Laura were waiting to see who would exist. “Hey,” Cooper said, running over to you from the barn. “Is your mom back?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you heard the front door open.

“Whose here?” Lila questioned. On cue, you watched Nick and your grandmother descend the ramp. Where was your mom? Where was she? You saw Nick speak with Clint and the archer kept glancing over to you, his hand rubbing his face.

“No,” you whispered. “Get off the jet.” You pleaded. “Get off.” But no one else came off. The group of adults began to walk back to the house. Not again. You couldn’t go through this again. The world began to spin around you. You needed to get out of here, you needed to run. So you did. Sprinting towards the barn, you jumped one of the four-wheelers that was left out. The sound of the engine roaring to life drowned out the call of your name. You began to ride, past the pound and into the woods. You were half tempted to never get off because as soon as you would reality would set in. The hard, soul-crushing reality that your mom broke her promise.

You stopped at Lila and Cooper’s fort. Your legs barely could hold you up as you got off the four-wheeler and collapsed into the shelter. No tears fell. Even though you wanted to scream and cry and plead for the universe to give her back. But you were numb. So numb. Why did this keep happening to you? Was it you? Were you to blame for all this death and misery? You were the common denominator for everything; your biological parents left, and Natasha and Maria left. Who was next?

*

“Shit,” her father said, coming to a stop next to Lila. He ran his hand over his face but Lila was more focused on her distraught friend ride off.

“Where is she going?” Lila assumed the woman was your grandmother. She heard you talking to her on the phone.

“We know where she’s going,” We do? Lila thought. “Come on,” he grabbed Lila by her hand and dragged her to the other four-wheeler. Cooper jumped on first and handed her the helmet.

“Cooper,” Lila whispered. “Is Aunt Maria-”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “God, I hope not. Hold on tight.”

*

You heard the sound of the other four-wheeler turn off and two sets of footsteps approaching the fort. “Mind if we join you?” Lila asked. You didn’t want them to be here. You came out here because you wanted to be alone. They took your silence as an invitation to join, Lila sat next to you and Cooper sat in front of you.

“Dad is going to give you a hard time about riding without a helmet.” Cooper joked. On any other day, it would have made you laugh or smile but you stared down at your lap. Their voices became white noise. You knew they were trying to get you to talk but you couldn’t. You were so angry and sad and scared. There were so many emotions swirling inside you didn’t know which one to focus on.

“You could be a Barton,” Lila said. “And you can come live with us.”

“No,” you finally spoke. “What if I join your family and something happens to your parents?” You looked up at them. “I’m cursed. My biological parents left me, Natasha left me, Maria left me,” finally the tears began to fall, “Everyone leaves me.” You sobbed. Lila pulled you in a hug. You wanted to push against her, scream at her to let you go but you didn’t have the energy to fight her. Instead, you slumped against her and you heard Cooper sit down next to you. He brought you and Lila into a hug.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promised. “You’ll find your place whether it be here or somewhere else.” You weren’t sure if you believed him.

*

“How is she?” Clint asked his wife when she entered the dining room. The plate she brought up with her wasn’t in her hand anymore so he saw that as a good sign. Laura sighed.

“I didn’t get to talk to her,” she sat down next to Clint. A bottle of whiskey was already open and being passed around the three adults. “Cooper is standing guard,” she poured herself a drink. “According to him, she doesn’t want to talk to anyone.” Clint rubbed his head, letting out a sigh of his own.

“What’s going to happen to her?” Elizabeth asked. The archer had only spoken to her a few times on the phone to organize pickups and drop-offs. They never met in person. Clint hated that Maria’s death was the reason they had to meet. It seemed unreal that Maria was gone. For the longest time, she seemed untouchable, unkillable. Life appeared to have other plans. He took a sip of his drink.

“Romanoff and Hill wrote in their will that Clint and Laura were her godparents,” Fury said. “They left it up to the three of you to decide what is best for her.” There was a rage building inside Clint as he stared at Fury. The man ran to space as soon as the funeral was over and was never heard from again. Hell, Maria thought he was dead for how many calls he ignored. Now the man was back and another one of Clint’s closest friends was dead, leaving behind a daughter who lost so much.

“I can take her,” Elizabeth said. “You already have a full house.”

“But it could be good to be around kids her age,” Laura countered. “We are more than happy to keep here.”

“She doesn’t want to go with any of you,” the group turned to see Cooper walking into the kitchen to clean off the dirty dish.

“What do you mean, son?” Clint asked.

“She doesn’t want to be a Barton or live with anyone. She thinks she’s cursed. That if she joins another family something bad will happen to them.” Clint’s heart broke for you. It was so unfair the cards that life had dealt you. You’ve been incredibly strong but how much more could you take?

“What does she want?” Fury asked. Cooper scuffed, crossing his arms as he sent daggers to the most powerful person in this room.

“Cooper,” Clint warned but his son ignored him.

“Did you just ask that?” He asked, walking over to the table. “She wants her mom’s back. But that’s not possible, is it sir?”

*

The house was once again quiet. Elizabeth was staying at a hotel in town until they figured out what to do next. Fury on the other hand took off, not answering where he was headed off to. Clint sat on the couch, a picture of him, Maria, Natasha, and Laura in his hand. It was back in their SHIELD days. They were so young then. Unaware of what life was going to throw at them. Laura sat down next to him, the archer wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. “How are you doing?” She asked.

“Tired of losing people,” he admitted. “I know we signed up for this but it’s so hard.” Laura hummed, resting her head on his shoulder. “I keep thinking it could have been me.”

“But it wasn’t.” No, it wasn’t him at the bottom of Vormir or meeting his end in a foreign country. He even escaped death from a Black Widow assassin. A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts. “Are you expecting someone?” Laura whispered, sitting up. Clint shook his head, putting his finger to his lips, and stood up. He grabbed a pistol that he kept in a nearby drawer. Guns weren’t his preferred weapon but his bow wasn’t available. Unlocking the safety, he opened the door.

“Clint Barton,” Yelena smirked. “Are you going to shoot me? After everything we’ve been through.”

“Yelena,” the archer said slowly. He blinked at the blonde in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“To see my niece,” she simply said. “Where is she?” Yelena walked past him, bumping her shoulder against his. Clint put the safety back on and closed the door.

“Time out,” he set the pistol down as Yelena waved at Laura. “You can’t just barge in here like you own the place and demand to see her.”

“And why is that?” Yelena asked, turning to face him. He could see her clearer now. The Black Widow was wearing her white suit, she must have just returned from a mission. He knew she wasn’t working for Valentina anymore.

“Because you refused to see her for the past few months when she desperately wanted to meet you,” he was trying to keep his voice quiet, not wanting to wake the rest of the house. But he saw the hope leave your eyes every time Kate joined them at the farm without Yelena.

“What has changed?” Laura asked. The blonde looked down at her feet. He could see the guilt eating up at her.

“I wasn’t ready to meet her,” Yelena admitted. “And now she’s lost someone else.” She looked up at Clint. “We both know how uncertain this life is. I’ve wasted enough time.”

“You have.”

“We can’t guarantee she’ll talk to you,” Laura said. “She refused to talk to anyone besides our kids.”

“Thank you,” Yelena sighed. “I appreciate it.”

*

When the door opened, you pulled your eyes away from the Polaroid and locket. “Oh,” Laura said with a smile. “I wasn’t expecting you to be awake.” You weren’t sure how to tell that you couldn’t fall asleep. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw them die over and over again. “There is someone that wants to meet you downstairs.” You refused to move. She sighed and walked over to, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to talk to us or your grandmother or even Fury but you need to talk to someone about what you are feeling,” you had nothing to say, everything hurt. But you were curious about who was here.

“Who is it?” You finally spoke. Your voice sounded foreign to you. Laura smiled.

“Your aunt.”

Every step you took your heart was thudding against your ribs. The mixture of grief and nervousness was making you sick to your stomach. Once you entered the living room with Laura by your side, Clint and your aunt stood up from the couch. You stared at the blonde. For the longest time, you created an image in your head of what the blonde was like through stories your mama told you and the way the Bartons and Kate talked about her. As you stared at the woman in front of you, she seemed nervous - a stark contrast to the bad-ass assassin you imagined. “Hi,” her accent was deep.

“Why are you here?” You asked. Your blunt question took the room by surprise. The couple excused themselves, saying that they wanted to give you some space. When they left, you joined Yelena on the couch. But you looked forward, unable to look at her anymore. “Mama told me so many stories about you and I was so excited to meet you. I don’t understand why it took my mom dying,” your voice cracked but you refused to cry in front of her. “For you to come and see me.” The blonde sighed, leaning back into the couch.

“I wasn’t good enough,” she admitted. “You needed someone better, someone that was good.” You glanced at her. She had a far-off look in her eyes. You’ve seen that look before when your mama woke up from a nightmare or had a particularly bad day. You saw a lot of her in Yelena even though they weren’t related by blood.

“Are you good now?” You asked.

“I’m not sure but you need me,” you chuckled and rolled your eyes.

“I don’t need anyone,” you said. “I’m going to be fine on my own,” it was Yelena’s turn to laugh.

“So that’s your plan. You are going to set off by yourself and ignore everyone who loves you. What are you like 10?” Your jaw clenched. “I know exactly what you are doing. You are going to push and push everyone away so you don’t feel this pain again. It won’t work,” you refused to speak so she continued, “That pain will only hurt more.”

“What do you expect me to do?” You snapped, jumping to your feet, and looked at her. “It’s like I was hit by a train, I ran out of words. So tell me how my life goes on with them gone?” You asked, pounding your fist against your chest. “It’s like I’m sinking like a stone and I’m so afraid.” You whispered. Her green eyes softened in a way that your mama and mom would look at you. “Don’t look at me like that, please. I’m cursed.”

“Oh, milaya devushka (sweet girl),” Yelena whispered, catching you in her arms as your legs gave out. She gently rocked you, whispering Russian words in your ear.

“Stop it,” you pleaded. “Stop caring,” you weakly hit against her chest.

“That’s not happening,” you ended the hug but Yelena held onto your hands to keep you from running away. “You are not a curse,” she said it so adamantly that you almost believed her. “What happened to your mamas was not your fault. Unfortunately, they knew the risk when they signed up for this lifestyle. I am so sorry they were taken from you so soon,” you stared at your connected hands. They felt like your parents; warm and calloused.

“What am I supposed to do?” You asked.

“I don’t know but life goes on,” you looked up at her. “They made their choice. We have to live with it.” You weren’t the only one to lose someone. Yelena lost her sister. “I know your gut is telling you to run away and hide but you can not do that.”

“Where am I going to go then?” You loved staying with the Bartons and your grandmother but you knew it was temporary. At the end of the day, your mom would be there to pick you up. Now you weren’t sure where you belonged.

“Well,” Yelena slowly said. “You could come with me.” Her offer shocked you. “I could take you to meet my mama and papa or take you back to the city in Kate’s apartments with Lucky or to Ohio, or Canada, or Mexico. We could go anywhere. As long as you don’t run away.”

“Okay,” she seemed surprised by your sudden approval to drop everything you knew and live with her. You smiled. “What? Did you not expect me to take you up on your offer?”

" I wasn’t sure what was going to happen.”

“Natasha always said that she thought you and I would get along,” you told her. “She dreamed of getting a house for all of us. You, me, Maria, and her so we could all be together and safe,” you let go of one of her hands to wipe away your tears. “Maybe part of her dream can still come true.” Yelena nodded, her green eyes glossy with tears.

“Life goes on,” she repeated. You were experiencing deja vu when your mom told you the same thing. It was a weird feeling and couldn’t repeat it back. Instead, you smiled.

“Can we get a dog?” You asked. Yelena laughed.

“I have one but we can get another.” You were still afraid that another wave was going to knock you off your feet and no matter how hard you swam to the surface, no one was there to grab you. You knew Yelena was watching you intensely. A soft whistle broke the silence of the Barton house. You never thought you’d hear that whistle again. You smiled at your aunt and whistled back. They were both right no matter how many people you lost life unfortunately goes on.

_

Remember when we saw that Maria was going to be in secret invasion and we were all excited then they killed her in EP1. Still not over there but whatever! This will probably be the last part of this little AU unless someone requests one or I think of soething else lol

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

On a more serious note, now that I’m halfway into Farscape season 1, I can’t help but think about Peter Quill/Star-Lord from “Guardians of the Galaxy” being a lesser John Crichton. Because, as I’ve written before, James Gunn was so obviously inspired by Farscape:

1) John and Peter are the good ole American protagonists who were taken to deep space against their will. They connect with people through pop culture references and their good heart.

2) Aeryn Sun and Gamora are the stone cold warriors who used to fight for the bad guys but are now on the side of good. They also have a romance with John/Peter.

3) Ka D’Argo and Drax are the proud warriors who are seeking to redeem themselves. They also are so stiff that references and simple sayings go over their heads.

4) Rygel is sorta kinda like Rocket Raccoon in that they’re the scheming loudmouths who look out for themselves.

5) Pilot and Groot fulfill the role of the lovable support character who helps everyone in the crew.

6) Zotoh Zhaan doesn’t have a perfect GOTG counterpart, but I really do feel that James Gunn split her traits between Nebula (who got the rage and tragic backstory) and Mantis (who got the mind powers).

Anyways, back to the main point. While Peter Quill does come off as a John clone, I think the way John’s arc was handled was superior to the way Peter was written. I think the main reason is that I can see why John would be his crew’s leader (or, at least, the crewmate keeping everything together) while Peter feels like he’s the leader because the plot says he should be.

John starts off as the goofball who can’t do anything right. No one trusts him and they think of him as the idiot who they just keep around. But as season 1 goes on, you can tell that he’s the glue who’s keeping the crew together. He’s the crewmate who got everyone to open up, especially Aeryn (who was trained to be cold and emotionless) and D’Argo (who distrusts everyone because of his traumatic past). He’s like that one friend who you feel like you can talk to about anything, especially since everyone else in the crew is dealing with their own problems.

So when we get to the episode where John is ready to leave, it makes sense that everyone feels hesitant to see him go. Aeryn is starting to fall for him, he was one of the few people who D’Argo would consider a friend, he helped Zhaan through some of her toughest times, and he generally got along with Rygel.

As for Peter Quill, I’m not saying he was badly written. It’s just him being treated as the team’s leader is not as believable. It’s like, imagine if John Crichton was written to be as emotionally closed off and standoffish as everyone else in the crew. While this does make Peter stand out as his own character separate from John, it also makes you wonder why Quill was written as the team’s leader. I’m sure that’s why it was a recurring gag that Quill was always struggling to be seen as the leader, whether it was from Rocket or Thor. The writers knew that wasn’t 100% believable, so they wrote it into the story.

I don’t get that with John. He might be the resident goofball, but he’s also why the crew hasn’t fallen apart.

TL;DR Peter Quill/Star-Lord was obviously modeled after John Crichton. But the MCU character who feels more in line with John as a character is Clint Barton/Hawkeye.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Sugar Mama Chapter 1

And another one! New story involving #sugarbabybucky Warnings: eventual smut, sexual assault (not from Bucky)

Bucky was exhausted.  He had been working three jobs for four years now just trying to get by, and this was his sixth sixteen hour day in a row.  Student loans and credit card debt was eating him out of house and home, in the most literal sense.  Even living in a rent controlled building wasn’t helping with the bills piling up.  He had gone to college for architecture and interior design, which he was doing now working as an assistant during normal working hours for one of the many local interior designers.  Then he would go straight to his second job as a waiter in a high end restaurant in downtown Manhattan, then at the end of the night go home and do a few more hours of online tutoring.  He had ended his 20s and entered his 30s feeling like an old man, with no end in sight of ever getting a break or being able to break even with his debt.  Forget about dating or having a family someday.  That all seemed like a ridiculous pipe dream now.

“Heeeeyyyy Buckaroo?” Steve sidled up to him as he was cleaning off wine glasses.

“No,” Bucky cut him off.  

“But it’s just–”

“Steve, it’s Friday night, I’d really like to go home and get in bed at a normal time tonight,” Bucky interrupted him, the dark circles under his eyes that he tried to ignore looking more prominent by the day.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.  But Peggy has been hounding me about going to that new burlesque club that just opened and I told her I was working but we haven’t had a date night in a long time–”

“Ugh, fine.  But I’m not sharing tips,” Bucky sighed, rubbing his face as he pulled a 5 Hour Energy out of his apron pocket and quickly downed it like a shot.

“Those are bad for you, Buck,” Steve gave his friend a worried look.

“Well maybe a heart attack in my 30s will put me out of my misery,” Bucky half-joked.  Steve was silent.  Bucky turned to him and scoffed.  “It’s a joke.  Go, I’ll take the closing shift.  Say hi to Peg for me.”

“I’ll take your next closing, I promise.  Thanks punk,” Steve gave him a quick hug.

“Yeah whatever, jerk,” Bucky laughed.  As Steve went to the back to change, Bucky went to the host stand and figured out who was his next table.

“Whatcha got for me, witchy woman?” he leaned against the stand.  Wanda gave him a quick glance.  

“I told you to stop calling me that,” she sighed, looking back down at the list.

“It’s not my fault you got witch eyes.  And I never said that was a bad thing,” Bucky said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah whatever,” she rolled her amber eyes.  “You’re gonna love this one.  A Wall Street investment heiress, with some famous friends,” she gave him an unimpressed look.

“An heiress, huh?  Well maybe she’ll be my next sugar mama,” he joked, giving her a wink as he adjusted his apron.

“You wouldn’t know how to be a sugar baby even if you tried,” she sassed back at him.  “Table 42.  She’s all yours.”

“Thanks babes,” he sing-songed at her before heading towards his section.  As he approached table 42 he tried to see who the heiress was, but she was unfortunately facing away from him.  Her friends, though, he easily recognized from some of the most recent films that had just hit theaters: Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov.  Jackpot, he thought with a wry smile.

“Good evening, folks, welcome to Marea.  My name is Bucky and I’ll be your server tonight.  Could I get you started with some drinks?  Or a review of our wine list?” He gave them all a friendly smile as he looked each of them in the eye at least once.  The actors gave him quick smiles and glances before ordering generic wines and waters, then the heiress caught his eye.  He almost did a double take once he realized who she was.  Y/N Y/L/N, the daughter of Wall Street Tycoon Gerald Y/L/N.  She was set for life and beyond.  Her father was the investment king, knowing just when to buy in or sell out.  She had taken on his legacy by doing the same but instead of investing in huge corporations she was investing in smaller businesses and projects, being the key investor until the business could truly thrive, giving her investment a return and getting a chance to grow in an area like New York City.  She was the reason the new burlesque club opened that Steve was going to with Peggy.  Not only was she wealthy, she was beautiful.  Short in stature and plus size, she was an anomaly surrounded by her tall and slim friends, but she embraced her size and used it as a way to both literally and figuratively take up space in the industry and bring attention to the issues of body image, fatphobia, and investing in plus size companies and designers who she exclusively worked with for clothing her for events. 

Bucky tried not to ogle and quickly gave her his best flirtatious smile.  “And for you?” he asked her.

Y/N gave him an appreciative smile and her bright Y/C/E eyes seemed to really look at him rather than a passing glance like her friends.  “I’d like to hear the wine menu, please.”

“Wonderful, we have a…” As he listed off the wines Y/N watched him intently, her eyes searching his face.  He felt like he was the one being ogled and yet he persevered, trying not to sound nervous while serving some of the most influential and popular people in the world.

“It all sounds delicious, but I’m a creature of habit, so I think I’ll stick with my favorite Rose, the Billecart-Salmon.  And I’ll also have water on the side.”

“Excellent choice, ma’am.  Give me a moment and I’ll get those drinks out to you all,” he glanced at them all again before slipping away to the bar for the drinks.

Y/N watched him leave, a small smile on her face, before turning back to her friends.  They eyed her ruefully with mischievous smiles.  “What?” she asked.

“He’s cute,” Natasha commented, one eyebrow raised at her.

“Very cute.  One could even say hot,” Clint added, watching Bucky walk back to the bar.  “He’s got a great ass.  Too bad he’s working here.  He’d look divine in a Prada campaign.”

“You two stop it,” Y/N whispered, giving them a wide eyed glare.  “Yes he’s cute.”

“You gonna go for it?” Natasha asked, her grin twisting into something conspiratorial.

“Oh do it!  If you won’t, I’ll try my luck,” Clint shifted in his seat as he continued watching Bucky.  “See if he goes both ways.”

Bucky was walking back with the drinks on a tray.  Y/N narrowed her eyes and made the gesture for them to zip it.

“Alright, here are your drinks!  Your waters, and the Sauvignon blanc for you,” he set it in front of Clint, “the Stella Artois for you,” he set it in front of Natasha, “and the Billecart-Salmon Rose for you.”  He delicately set it in front of Y/N giving her another warm smile.  She reciprocated it as she reached for her wine.  She took a quick sip and her eyes fluttered shut.  

“Perfect, thank you Bucky,” she said as she licked her lips.

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly before he caught himself.  “Well, would you like to start with any appetizers?  Or jump right into the good stuff?” he huffed a laugh.

“I’d like the lobster with the salad,” Clint ordered.  “And could you make sure that the lobster is really big and thick.  I like them meaty.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at him and his not-so-subtle innuendo.  Bucky knew what he was doing and just let it slide, nodding in agreement.  “I’ll put in a good word with the chef.”  

Natasha next to him giggled before ordering.  “I’ll just take the scallops and shrimp.”

Bucky nodded before turning to Y/N.  “I’ll have the crab cakes and risotto, please.”  He nodded again and gave her a smirk.

“My favorite,” he gave her a wink, making her blush. “I’ll get those in and come back to check on you all in a little bit,” he swept the table with a smile before walking back to the kitchen.

“Stop it, don’t embarrass him,” Y/N chastised Clint.  “I’m sure he and the other servers get enough grief from creepy patrons all the time.”

“Oh it was just a little fun.  Besides, he’s all eyes for you, honey, he barely even looked at me,” he shot back at her as he sipped his wine. 

“It’s true,” Natasha said, then gave her an exaggerated wink. Y/N rolled her eyes.  “I think you should ask him out.  Or maybe he can be your next sugar baby.”

“Oh don’t bring that up again,” Y/N groaned.  “It was a one time thing and ended badly.  I just wanted to try it.”

“It ended badly because he was an ass, not because of anything you did.  You gave him charity and he gave you an attitude.  This guy seems sweet, nothing can hurt from just asking,” Natasha chided her, reaching out and pinching Y/N’s arm lightly.  

Y/N considered her words.  She had wanted to try out the lifestyle of being a sugar mama to a sugar baby.  She had a lot of events to go to throughout the year, and as much as she enjoyed spending time with her friends and networking with people, she was getting really tired of these high-class, ridiculous men who thought that just by being famous or wealthy that she would throw herself at them.  They wanted to use her for her name and connections.  They never really cared about her.  So she had tried being a sugar mama to a man who wasn’t famous, down on his luck, and just trying to get a leg up in life to escort her to these functions and give her companionship.  But once he’d gotten his debts paid off by her and a taste of luxury he quickly became influenced by the rich douchebags around him and started treating Y/N disrespectfully, so much so that he’d made front page news of some tabloids and embarrassed her.  She kicked him out after that and blacklisted him from any upcoming events.  If there was one thing that she would never condone it was when others tried, directly or indirectly, to humiliate or embarrass her.

Bucky did seem nice, and very tired.  The dark circles under his eyes and his shirt not being as ironed as some of the other servers were small giveaways that he was struggling.  She didn’t want to embarrass him either by asking to be her sugar baby and assuming that he was struggling financially.  

“He is very handsome,” she conceded, a larger smile spreading across her face.

Natasha squealed, clapping her hands joyfully.  “Do it!”

The night dragged on as they ate their delicious meals and ordered more glasses of wine.  Other patrons were clearing out as it got later and closer to closing time.  As tired as Bucky was, doing his nightly closing duties quietly and discreetly so his table couldn’t see, he was banking on their tips.  High end restaurants meant high end clients meant high end tips, and he had rent coming due next week.  He packed on the compliments to Y/N and her friends, gave them warm and flirty smiles, offered complimentary items, and gave all his attention to them exclusively.  Y/N had asked to compliment the chef and when he came out and talked to her table she whispered something to him that he quickly agreed to and jogged back to the kitchen.  Bucky gave him a questioning glance but the chef waved him off.

Bucky watched carefully until he saw Y/N’s hand raise and her eyes searched for him.  His cue for the check, which he quickly grabbed and brought it over to her.  As he glanced at the insane price he noticed an extra meal that wasn’t supposed to be on there as he got to the table.

“Oh, I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N, there seems to be a mistake on the bill, I apologize, let me go–”

“No mistake, Bucky,” Y/N reassured him just as the chef came back out with a doggy box.  He handed it to her and thanked her for coming.  Y/N shook his hand and slipped something into it before  he disappeared back to the kitchen wearing a rare smile.  “Thank you,” she reached for the bill and slid her black American Express into the folder.  

“Oh, alright, I’ll be right back then,” Bucky composed himself after the mini heart attack he just had from thinking the bill was wrong as he walked back to the stand to take her payment.  Once everything was paid he brought back the folder, this time seeing her friends standing and putting on their coats while she stayed seated.  

“Thank you, Bucky,” Natasha said his name seductively as she passed him.  Clint gave him a little wave and a smirk as he left with her.  

“Have a good night!” He called after them.  He approached the table as Y/N was opening her wallet.  “Here’s the receipt Miss Y/L/N.  Thank you for coming in tonight.”

“No thank you for such excellent service, Bucky,” she complimented him as she took the folder again.  “Will you sit with me for a moment?”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised and he glanced back at the bar.  The manager, Pietro, and Wanda motioned to him to do as she asked.  “Yes, of course,” Bucky accepted and sat himself in the chair across from her where Clint sat previously.  

Her gaze flicked over him as she opened the folder, took the pen provided and filled out the parts of the receipt meant for her.  She closed it and slid it over to Bucky who thanked her and placed it in front of himself.

“I have a proposition for you, Bucky.  And please understand when I ask this that you are under no obligation to accept it and I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she started, looking a little nervous.

“Okay,” Bucky stated lamely as he watched her.  

Y/N cleared her throat and put her fidgeting hands down in her lap.  “I would like to offer you a type of job.  As an escort, a sugar baby, to me.”  Bucky’s eyes widened comically as he processed what she said. “I know it’s a strange request.  But it’s something that I enjoy trying and it helps others…sometimes.  I don’t want to assume anything of you, but I can tell when someone is struggling, and you look like life has not always been the easiest or kindest to you.  I mean no offense.”

“None taken,” he replied automatically.  “I…yes,” he looked down as he confessed to her.  “It’s been, uh, rough, to say the least.”

“Hm,” Y/N hummed.  She reached a finger out and pointed to the closed folder.  She gestured for him to open it.  He did and took a look over the receipt, nearly choking when he saw the amount on the tip line.

“No, no Miss Y/L/N, this is too much,” Bucky protested as he stared at the number. 

“That’s what your service was worth.  You are worth every cent, and more,” Y/N praised him.  “You don’t have to decide tonight, Bucky, but in the meantime, here’s my card,” she slipped a business card over to him. “Think about it,” she said as she stood up.  Bucky quickly stood up with her.  Y/N stepped closer to him and reached for his hand.  They shook hands and she leaned in and whispered to him, “By the way, you’re very handsome.”  Bucky’s eyes bulged and he swallowed hard as she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek then turned and left.  Bucky realized as he watched her leave that she had slipped something into his hand.  He opened his hand to find a small folded wad of one hundred dollar bills in his palm.  “Oh and that’s for you!” She called out and motioned towards the doggy box still sitting on the table.  “Your favorite.  Dinner’s on me,” she said and gave him a wink then twirled back around and out the door.  

After she was out of the restaurant and beyond hearing Wanda and Pietro ran up to him.  “How much did she give you?”  Wanda squealed as she looked at the bills in his hand.  He quickly counted it.

“$1000,” he whispered as he gawked at the money.

“Give me that,” Pietro demanded as he took the folder from Bucky.  He opened it and gasped.  “She gave you a $2500 card tip??  What did you do, Barnes, give her and everybody at her table a blow job?”

“Wow…I don’t know if I want to be her or be on her,” Wanda said wistfully as she looked back out the glass door where Y/N had already gotten into her car and drove off.  

Bucky felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he stared at the bills, the $2500 floating around in his mind.  He was not comprehending just how much she had given him.  He looked at her business card again and knew he had to at least meet with her and find out what she was offering.  But to become an actual sugar baby?  To have a sugar mama?  To have his debt disappear?  To be taken care of?  He smiled as his fingers touched where her lips had been. 

**this picture has me SALIVATING. This is what I imagine sugar baby!Bucky to look like in this. Hope y'all like it!**

[dc-marvel-crossovers]

Crossover Fanworks Celebration Masterlist

Thanks so much to everybody who participated! We're still waiting for a couple late entries, but here's the wrap-up of all the fics that were fanworked and their related works. You can find the Ao3 collection right over here.

It seems like everybody involved had a great time, so it's very likely that this will be a repeating event. If you'd like to join in on the next one, follow us here and/or send us a message about joining our Discord!

Knaves All Three by @ginbenci: gen, focused on Steve Rogers, Bruce Wayne, Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson, and Tony Stark. Funny comedy-of-errors identity porn. 7922 words, rated T.

All Three Knaves by @o-kaythislooksbad

Playlist by @bittercape

Third Wheel by @kangofu-cb: Jason Todd/Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton. Established Bucky/Clint. Roleplay gone hilariously awry leads to a hot-as-hell threesome. 10,776 words, explicit.

Sequel by @carcrash429

Bookbinding by @moonshinebindery

Remix by @there-must-be-a-lock

Playlist by @capriciouswrites

Won’t You Stay Awhile? (I’m Staring At A Ghost) by @daddyswickedqueen: Jason Todd/Steve Rogers. Steve gets picked up (and flustered) in a dive bar; sexy, but also a great look at both characters. 5022 words, explicit.

Podfic by @betrayedbycinnamon

Remix by @sammialex

Sequel by @darbydoo22

Moodboard by @drgrlfriend

Snow On The Beach by @bittercape: Jason Todd/Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton. Interconnected vignettes of a developing relationship — some funny, some fluffy, some smutty, and some all of the above. 13,181 words, range from T to explicit.

Art by @o-kaythislooksbad

More art by @o-kaythislooksbadkay

Timestamp by @betrayedbycinnamon

Spider and Bat Friends by @emmacortana: mostly gen. A series of standalone fics about Peter Parker in Gotham. Mixed bag with something for everybody: some wildly creative crack, some angst, and more. 170,897 words total, mostly rated T.

Podfic by @graham-cracker-guillotine

Art by @wyxan

The Stockings Were Hung by @betrayedbycinnamon: Jason Todd/Bucky Barnes and background /Clint Barton. Christmas lingerie, insecure Jason, and a tender, reassuring Bucky. 3945 words, explicit.

Remix by @darbydoo22

Moodboard by @kangofu-cb

Sunrise On The East Side by @wyxan: Tim Drake/Peter Parker/Michelle Jones, established Peter/MJ. Spilled coffee + endearingly awkward Peter; luckily MJ is a boss and very comfortable doing something about his crush on Tim. 8816 words, explicit.

Remix by @there-must-be-a-lock

Podfic by @noxnthea

Finders Keepers by @drgrlfriend: Jason Todd/Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton. Adorable “meet-ugly” courtesy of animal friends. Clint and Jason aren’t used to romance, and Bucky decides to change that. 3081 words, rated T.

Art by @bittercape

Podfic by @daddyswickedqueen

Remix by TheologyDiscography

Moodboards by @there-must-be-a-lock

What's in the name by @graham-cracker-guillotine: Peter Parker & Bruce Wayne centric. Feel-good fluff and humor. 2142 words, rated G.

Podfic by @carcrash429

Art by @o-kaythislooksbad

blood upon the snow by @carcrash429: One fic is Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes; others are gen, focused mainly on Clint and Dick Grayson, with appearances by Natasha, Roy, and others. Fae Clint fantasy AU with great world-building. 11,900 words, rated T.

Art by @o-kaythislooksbad

Podfic by @noxnthea

Moodboards by @there-must-be-a-lock

can't start a fire without a spark by @mightymightygnomepriest: Frank Castle/Jason Todd. Frank saves a puppy and gets caught in the rain. Soft and sweet and sexy. 3468 words, explicit.

Remix by @daddyswickedqueen

Sequel by @bittercape

getting better in the worst way by @o-kaythislooksbad: gen, featuring characters from Moon Knight, Doom Patrol, Teen Titans, Hulk, and Venom. Creative canon mashup with characters that don’t get a lot of representation in fic. 80,064 words, rated T.

Moodboards by @there-must-be-a-lock

Hawksnest by TheologyDiscography: Jason Todd/Clint Barton. Post-Under The Red Hood friends-to-lovers with a fun twist on Clint’s story. 3359 words, rated T.

Podfic by CainPods

Sequel by @o-kaythislooksbad

Marshmallow Crime Lords by @noxnthea and @there-must-be-a-lock: Jason Todd/Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton, but the relationship isn’t the focus; lots of BatFamily shenanigans and fluff. 46,440 words, rated T.

Remix by @bill-longbow

Sequel by @bittercape

Art by @wyxan

Podfic by @flowerparrish

Playlist by @carcrash429

If It's A Highway by @there-must-be-a-lock: Jason Todd/Bucky Barnes, Lost Days/post-CA:TWS canon fusion. 77,122 words, explicit.

Timestamp by @bill-longbow

Art by @wyxan

[justsomeclintasha]

“Sit.” He shuts the door behind him and perches on the edge of the chair. Coulson regards him from behind his desk. “She’s not settling in,” he says bluntly. “She’s in holding. Mitchell is in medical with a busted lip and Stoker has a black eye. Something you care to share?”

“No, I haven’t seen her at all this morning. Are you sure-“

“She admitted to it. Attacked them unprovoked. I need you to figure this out. There are a lot of eyes on us right now. This can’t happen again.”

“What are you saying?”

“You need to convince the board that this was the right call.”

“Or what? They’ll kill her? Put her down like some kind of wild animal?”

“I didn’t say that.” Clint glares at him, and Coulson speaks again, his voice soft. “I think some time in the country might do her good. You could both use a break. Do you know a place?”

XXXXX

Gravel crunches under her sneakers as she steps out of the truck, taking in the old farmhouse. He grabs their bags from the back seat.

“Look. There are cows over there in that field.” She points, eyes a little brighter at the sight of the animals. He follows her gaze.

“Yep. That’s the nearest neighbor. Nice and quiet out here.” She moves to take her bag. He passes it over and leads them inside, giving her a brief tour of everything.

“Kind of unusual for a safe house, isn’t it?”

“It’s not a safe house.” She pauses, and he catches the tension in her stance. “It’s mine. Shield doesn’t know about it.”

“Why?” He shrugs, flicking through cover stories, then finally settles on the truth with a sigh.

“It was my house growing up. Back then it was a nightmare, but now it’s somewhere just for me to get away.”

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly, feeling like she ruined it.

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t want to.”

XXXXX

He watches her from the kitchen as he stirs the pasta on the stove. They’ve been here three days and she’s finally started to relax. The porch is her favorite area, and it’s where she sits now, legs tucked under her and damp hair falling in curls around her shoulders. She reaches out to pick up a caterpillar.

The ring of his phone startles him.

“Barton.”

“Clint, we need to talk.” Coulson’s tone causes his stomach to drop. He sets the spoon aside and leans on the counter.

“What is it?”

“Stoker and Mitchell ambushed her. They pushed her into an empty office room and tried to-“

“Fuck-“

“They didn’t-“

“Fuck, Coulson, are you sure? Are you sure they didn’t?”

“I’m positive. She defended herself and left the room immediately. It’s all on video.” Outside Natasha lets the caterpillar crawl up her finger, laughing softly as it gets to the tip. “They’ve been fired, of course.”

“They deserve worse.”

“You still have two weeks. Call me with updates.” Clint huffs out a breath. She sets the caterpillar down in the grass.

XXXXX

“I promised you a safe space,” he says quietly. She tucks her fingers into the sleeves of her hoodie, watching the fireflies in the field.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t even ask.”

“I didn’t tell you.”

And they’re at a standstill. He swallows the lump in his throat. The silence drags on.

“I grew up here. After my parents died, my brother and I ran off to join the circus.”

“People don’t actually do that.”

“Seriously.” She cocks an eyebrow. “Got into a lot of bad shit back then. Coulson gave me a second chance and I was afraid to let myself have it. I fought him a lot. It was hard,” he admits. “And I wanted it to be different for you.”

She sips her tea, considering. They both watch as a deer emerges from the tree line. A fawn follows close behind.

“It is different though,” she says finally. “Because you didn’t have anyone you can trust. And I do.”

[jinxquickfoot]

So I finished my Age of Ultron rewatch. It's been a couple of years since I last saw it, and here are some random thoughts I had on it:

Things I will maintain I like about this movie:

It has some of my favorite jokes in the MCU, and they're usually the little moments. The little nod of validation Rhodey makes after getting a laugh at his "Boom! You looking for this?" story. Clint telling Steve he's no match for Ultron and Steve replying with, "Thanks, Barton". Clint's "Yeah, you better run" after Pietro has long since disappeared with Wanda, there are loads of them.

I like Vision, Wanda and Pietro. Despite being secondary characters with not a huge amount of screen time, Wanda and Pietro feel like real people with real backstories, and Paul Bettany is wonderful the first time we see him as Vis.

It's the only movie we get to see the Original 6 hang out as friends.

I love that Fury randomly shows up in the middle and is like "let me make a sandwich while we discuss how not to let the world end also by the way hi Tony I really care about you"

Other casual appearances of other MCU characters, something that is so lacking Phase 4 onwards. Sam being at the party and Thor going to Selvig for help makes the world feel lived in.

RDJ's never dropped the ball as Tony but his performance really stuck out to me here, god he's good

Steve and Thor have multiple moments of teaming up and working together, what an underrated duo

Hulk vs Iron Man suit inside an Iron Man Suit fight

The Avengers do their best to evacuate Sokovia before Ultron attacks, which does not excuse the amount of damage caused there, but I do think is a plot point everyone forgets about (myself included)

And things that annoy me (skipping over the stuff everyone talks about like the Natasha/Bruce plot):

I hate how Joss Whedon writes Steve, both here and in Avengers. He only feels like Steve when he's being given jokes, otherwise he is so self-serious and stiff, the core of Steve is his heart and it is nowhere to be found in this movie

The movie spends so long setting up character arcs that feel promising and have no payoff. What is the point of Laura telling Clint the Avengers need him if he's going to retire at the end of the movie. Steve has several references to finding home in a way that doesn't go anywhere (Until Endgame, I guess). Don't get me started on Natasha.

It's trying so hard to have a theme but it never says anything unique. Bruce, Tony, Natasha and Vision all refer to themselves as monsters. Ultron decides that the Avengers are the bad guys. Steve has a speech all about proving they're not the monsters Ultron says they are. Based on WHAT? What is the message of this movie?? That the Avengers are better than the evil AI who wants to kill everyone?

(I half-feel there was a previous draft where Clint was their heart, or something, or he died and they were like whelp Phil Coulson 2.0 let's go avenge him, and the random pieces of that are still floating around the script with nowhere to go)

NO ONE is remotely concerned enough when their friends are getting hurt (maybe just the hurt/comfort lover in me, but still.) Natasha comes across as the only person who cares when Clint sustains a life-threatening injury. No one seems to be bothered that Natasha is being held captive by a psychotic supervillain. Tony shows more emotion over a fictional future where they die than when someone is actually in danger.

They really could have had a premise where they weren't allowed to access technology at all and could have gone retro with everything and they didn't and that just feels like a wasted opportunity. Clint and Natasha digging out old spy tech. Steve being like "Yes! This is familiar! I got this!" Tony making genius inventions out of tech from fifty years ago. Come on, it was right there.

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

Fooled Around and Fell In Love

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader

Rating: NSFW 18+ (minors dni)

Warnings: mostly done in Jack’s pov with one switch to reader’s for a short time, mentions of death and funeral setting briefly, bar setting, alcohol consumption, (y/n) mentioned once, heavy make out session, smutty good times, oral (female & male receiving), p in v sex, the fluff is ridiculous topped off with the cutest ending I’ve ever written

Word Count: 3.4k

Author’s Notes: I honestly have had this fic sitting for weeks and completely forgot about it. Oops. This idea has been in my head for at least a year and I finally did it. This was also the first timeI wrote a lot in Jack’s pov which was a lot of fun. I’m probably not going to have anything else until kinktober 👀 Thank you as always to @clint-aww-no-barton and I hope you all enjoy! Also if you have never heard the song played in the fic go give it a listen!! Fooled Around and Fell In Love by Elvin Bishop

ao3 link

Jack Daniels had only been in love once in his life. She’d been his high school sweetheart. He never did figure out how he’d won her heart, but he had. They were going to get married and she’d been pregnant, a baby boy. Then it was all ripped away from him. He’d stood in the cemetery and watched them lower her into the ground along with his heart. Buried six feet under. He swore that day, when he turned his back to her grave, that he was also turning his back on love. He was done with the silly four letter word, that meant nothing but heartbreak. It was hard at first especially seeing his parents, knowing their story. It was a beautiful one, one people wrote books about but Jack just supposed that life wasn’t for him.

  He fooled around of course. He still found women ridiculously attractive, and sometimes it was just too hard not to try and charm his way in. He would flirt until he found the perfect girl, who just wanted a little fun for the night. By the morning he was long gone. It got lonely sometimes, but when it did Jack would imagine himself right back at that grave. It was a reminder to not get attached, not to fall in love. He couldn’t do that again. He wouldn’t live through it a second time.

  He sat now at a local, small town bar, which had pulled in a crowd not long after he’d arrived. He was nursing his second whiskey, turned around on his barstool watching the crowd as it grew. This was his usual Friday night routine, when he wasn’t working. He would come here and wait for the ideal woman and then make his move. Tonight was busier than usual which, Jack didn’t mind at all. The bit of sunlight remaining suddenly broke through the dim lighting, and Jack turned his head to see who was walking in. That’s when his eyes fell on you.

*Your POV*

  You couldn’t believe your best friend had dragged you here. Actually you could. She was strong willed, and didn’t take no for an answer much. You’d rather be sitting at home, binge watching a show and eating your weight in ice cream.

  “Oh come on. Let’s get you drunk and laid.” Your best friend looped her arm within yours.

  “I’m not the one getting over a dick of an ex. I’ll pass.”

  “You still need to get laid honey. You’re too cranky.”

  “I am not! I’m perfectly fine. Plus there’s not a single guy in here who would look twice at me.”

  “Tell that to Burt Reynolds sitting at the bar.”

  You glanced over and sure enough, a man who looked like a younger version of Bandit himself, had his brown eyes on you. You felt your face heat as you turned away.

  “He’s probably looking at you.”

  “Oh honey. He’s not looking at me. Come on, let’s get a booth and I’ll get our first round.”

  You rolled your eyes but let her drag you along to a booth. This was going to be a long night.

*Jack’s POV*

  Jack watched you, as your friend dragged you to a booth reluctantly. You were beautiful. Honestly one of the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on. Something about the fact that you obviously didn’t want to be here, just piqued his interest even more. A little more liquid courage and he would go make his move. He watched your friend walk over, confidence so clear on her face. She leaned on the bar calling out to the bartender, placing her order. Two whiskey’s on the rocks. Then she turned to Jack.

  “Hey tell me, where you looking at me or my gorgeous friend over there when we walked in?”

  “No offense against you darlin’ but definitely your friend.”

  “Oh no offense taken. You’re definitely her type. I just wanted to prove that I was right.”

  She grabbed her drinks and Jack smirked.

  “I’ll add more to your case here in just a minute.”

  “You better be nice to her. I have a black belt and I’ll kick your ass.”

  “I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

  Jack chuckled at your friend’s protectiveness over you. It just made him wonder more about you. Jack realized then, that this was the first time he wanted to actually get to know a woman in a long time. He pushed it away, trying to focus on just getting you in bed, before he downed the rest of his drink and got up. He weaved through the crowd, keeping his eyes on you. Your friend said something to you and you turned, your eyes growing wide before you spun back around, your face turning red. Jack couldn’t help but to think it was cute. Luckily you had just finished your drink, and it gave him the perfect excuse to speak to you.

  “Can I buy you ladies another round?” He spoke as he leaned on the table.

  “You can buy her another round,” your friend spoke and Jack smirked as his eyes went from her to you.

  “Uh yeah. Yeah I’ll take another…”

  “Whiskey on the rocks?”

  “Um…yeah,” you spoke slowly your eyebrow knitting together in confusion.

  “I’ll be right back.” Jack smacked the table before turning away.

  He ordered two drinks for you and himself before making his way back over.

  “May I join you?”

  “By all means.” This time you spoke and slid over, making room for him.

  “Names Jack. I’ve seemed to have forgotten my manners.”

  “Oh (Y/N),” you spoke giving him a shy smile.

  Your friend introduced herself, and then her eyes darted to someone in the crowd and gave a flirty wave. She excused herself, your eyes burning a hole in her as she went. Jack moved to the other side so he was facing you.

  “I see you were dragged here against your will.” Jack spoke and you pinched your nose between two of your fingers.

  “What gave it away?” The way you looked at him was full of embarrassment, but a smile still pulled at your lips.

  “A guy just knows,” Jack smirked as he leaned back, his arm draping across the back of his seat. “Not your usual scene then?”

  “Not really. I went through a very small stage where it was, but it didn’t last long. It ended in heartbreak so I’m safer at home in front of my tv.”

  “Ah come on. You gotta have fun every once in awhile.”

  “I guess I’ve had all my fun.”

  Jack felt his stomach sink slightly but he’d dealt with this before.

  “Oh sugar I promise you haven’t.”

  “What makes you say that?” You raised a brow, challenge in your voice.

  “Because you haven’t been with me yet.”

  “You sure are confident,” you chuckled lightly.

  “That I am. I ain’t ashamed of it.”

  “Definitely nothing to be ashamed of. I wish I had an ounce of it.”

  “You should. You’re a beautiful woman.”

  You looked down at the table your face once again red.

  “Thank you.”

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “It’s just…I don’t have the best record so…” your voice trailed off and Jack felt his heart clench.

  He wanted to make you feel like the most beautiful woman on earth. He wanted you to believe it. It was now a mission of his, and he never left a mission unsuccessful. Jack slid out of his seat, and he watch your face fall slightly.

  “May I pull you to the dance floor sugar?” He reached his hand out and he saw a smile pull at your lips.

  “Yes you may.” You grabbed his hand, and he pulled you out of the booth and out onto the dance floor.

  A fast pace song was playing at the moment, so Jack spun you around and the two of you joined in on a little line dancing, before the song shifted to something slower. Jack pulled you close, his hands on your hips and yours wrapped around his neck. He watched you look around the bar, and he knew you were trying not to meet his eyes. He reached up and his finger brushed at your chin, moving your head until your eyes met his. You looked over his face, your eyes stopping briefly at his lips. He quirked an eyebrow and you gave him a soft nod. Jack dipped his head and his lips met yours. The entire world disappeared. It was just you and Jack. He felt something shoot through him, and it only made him kiss you deeper. He felt your fingers lace in the hair at the nape of his neck. You kissed him back with equal fever, and it made Jack wonder if you had felt the same as him. He never wanted to stop kissing you. He could stand here until the day he died, attached to your lips. He had to get you out of here, now. He pulled away and looked down at you. You were panting and searching his eyes. He could tell you were having a battle with yourself. You pulled him down, your lips brushing at his ear and pulling a shiver through him.

  “Take me home Jack,” your words were intoxicating and Jack gulped before nodding.

  You pulled him along to tell your friend where you were going. He could only let out a soft chuckle at the high five the two of you shared, before you all but pulled him out the door. Jack took the initiative then, and pulled you to his car. He opened the door for you and you slid in. He was quick to round the front and climb in, buckling and driving off. There was a comfortable silence, full of the tension that hung between you and Jack, as he drove as fast as he could without breaking the law. Your knee bounced rapidly, and Jack knew you were probably feeling the same excitement he was.

  Jack noticed far too late that he’d pulled into his driveway. He hadn’t even thought to ask you where you lived. He’d just driven straight here. Another sign he was off his usual game. Deep down, he already knew why. He shook his head slightly trying to clear his thoughts, to focus. The two of you filed out of his car, and he was quick getting the front door open. As he shut it, he moved to cage you between him and it. You were both panting, and he smirked, before he was kissing you again. Damn your lips, your kiss could make him drunk like he had several bottles of whiskey. You moaned against his lips and he shuddered. Your hands traveled over his shirt, and soon he felt his jacket fall to the ground. He was quick to get rid of yours, before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. One hand stayed secured around you, flat against your back, while the other traveled down to your ass. He gave you a quick squeeze, and with a gasp against his lips, you jumped circling your legs around his waist.

  The two of you stayed there for several moments, never coming up for air, you pressed between the door and Jack. He let out a breath through his nose, and pulled away reluctantly. Your eyes fluttered opened and you panted. Jack’s breathing was rapid as well, and he gazed at you.

  “Please tell me you want to,” his voice betrayed him as it came out slightly hoarse.

  “More than anything,” you breathed, your voice not even going above a whisper.

  That was all Jack needed, before he pulled you back to his lips, his kiss hungrier than before, as he walked through his house and to his room. He kept you close still with one arm, as the other caught him as he laid you down on the bed and hovered over you. You kept your arms secured around him but your legs slowly fell away, spread wide for him to stay between. He kept himself propped slightly letting his other hand wonder. He his slipped under your shirt and then under the wire of your bra letting his thumb brush across your already hard nipple. It pulled a moan from Jack’s lips and he sat up slightly bringing you with him. His lips parted from yours as he quickly pulled your shirt over your head and discarding it somewhere in the room. Lips back on yours he soon tossed your bra away too. Then he finally let his lips drop and start to wander across your body. Your skin was soft and you smelled so good, that once again Jack could only think about how he never wanted to leave this moment. He kept his kisses feather light as he explored you, finding all the places that made you moan. He noted them carefully, before he finally moved to your breast. He pulled your left nipple between his fingers and pinched slightly. At the same time he pulled your right one between his lips and flicked the hard bud with his tongue. You let out a loud moan, your back arching into him and Jack smirked at himself. He flicked once more as he pulled and then was gone. He was quick to repeat the process on the opposite breast. You, once again, beautifully responding to him. He started to make his way down your stomach, until he came to the top of your jeans. He leaned up slightly, undoing your button and zipper slowly. He glanced up at you and you let out a whimper in a plea. Jack felt his cock twitch at the sight and sound.

  He pulled your jeans away, along with your underwear and let them fall to the floor. He stood then, still stationed between your legs and looked down at you fully bare for him now. You were beautiful, no that wasn’t even the right word. There wasn’t one that accurately described you. Jack knew he was in so much trouble. His eyes that had racked over your body, now met yours, that still had a plea held in them. Your pupils blown, your lips swollen. It was truly a sight. He kept his eyes on yours as he removed his shirt and didn’t bother with his jeans yet as he kelt between your legs. He wound his arms around your legs, flatting his hands on your thighs to keep your legs open. The sight before him made him lick his lips. You wiggled and let out another desperate whimper, that sent Jack reeling. He dove, his tongue licking up your slit, and you let out the most beautiful noise Jack had ever heard in his life. You tasted incredible and it sent Jack into overdrive. He kept going, sucking and licking at your clit. He felt his hat knock off from his head, and your fingers in his hair pulling slightly.

  “Jack,” you panted out, pulling slightly harder and he looked up at you still giving your clit little flicks with his tongue.

  “Please…I want to feel you…inside me,” you begged and Jack smirked.

  He reluctantly pulled his mouth away from you and stood. You sat up your feet hanging from the bed, as he watched you undo his pants. He helped you shove his jeans and underwear down, and before Jack could think to make a move you had his cock in your hand. You were quick to take him into your mouth, and it was so unexpected it took Jack a moment to catch up. His hand laced in your hair and he pulled ever so slightly, pulling a moan from you around his cock. He let out a hiss and closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in how good your mouth felt on him. He pushed his heavy lids open, looking down at you and it was such a beautiful sight, it was so hard for Jack to stop you. He pulled you up to him and kissed you deeply. The both of you seemed to moan in unison at tasting each other on your lips. He lightly pushed you back once again, and hovered over you. He pulled away, his forehead falling to yours as he glanced down and lined himself up with your dripping entrance, before he pushed in. He made himself go slow trying to take in how you felt as you opened for him. He buried his head in your neck as he finally filled you completely, and it was like the perfect puzzle pieces coming together.

  “Fuck,” you whined and that sent Jack into a frenzy.

  He pulled out and then snapped his hips forward, letting out a moan at the feeling. He did this a few more time, pulling moans and curses from you before he set a quicker pace. The room filled with the noises coming from the both of you. Jack tried so hard to be quiet, so he could hear ever last little sound you made. He wanted to hear them for the rest of his life. He wanted to spend every spare second he had pulling them from you. You felt so good around him and he swore he had never been with anyone that felt this perfect. It was making him climb his high, quickly.

  “I’m so close,” you suddenly whimpered out.

  “Let go for me sugar,” Jack spoke in a horse voice.

  You snapped and clutched at him like a vice. It was enough for him to follow you. He drilled deep inside of you, and you milked him. He let out a groan as he buried his face in your neck. Your fingers came up and ran lazily through his hair. The two of you stayed like that for awhile, until you’d come back down to earth. Jack pulled out of you and gently laid down next to you. You turned on your side and he did the same, the two of you looking at each other.

  “You were right,” you spoke after a few moments and Jack’s eyebrow quirked.

  “About what sugar?”

  “That was a lot of fun. The most fun I’ve had in awhile,” you smirked and Jack felt his heart jump slightly.

  “I must say it was the most fun I’ve had as well sugar. You’re breathtaking,” the last few words fell from his lips in a whisper as he reached out and brushed away hair that was stuck to your face.

  His fingers lingered as they softly brushed down your face, and he watched your eyes close and lean into his touch.

  “Let me clean you up and we can get some sleep. That is, if you want to stay?” Jack had sat up and he paused looking back at you.

  “Yeah I think I would like that,” you looked up at him and he smiled as did you.

  He cleaned you up gently, and the two of you settled into bed. Jack pulled you close and watched as you slipped to sleep before he soon followed.

  The sun pouring into the bedroom window pulled Jack from the most blissful sleep he could recall having. He turned his head to look at you, and my god how beautiful you were. You were still peacefully asleep. Your breathe was even and the sun danced over you. Jack watch you for awhile weighing these feelings that were creeping up on him. He knew deep down no matter how hard he tried not to, love was going to creep back up on him one day. Looking at you in his bed next to him he could feel it. He gently and slowly crawled out of bed, slipping on some pajama pants before padding to his kitchen. He turned on the radio and turned the volume low letting old classic rock and country music fill the silence. He started in on fixing you breakfast, silently praying that you would want to stay for it.

  “I must've been through about a million girls

  I'd love 'em and I'd leave 'em alone

  I didn't care how much they cried, no sir

  Their tears left me cold as a stone”

  The familiar lyrics of a song filled the air around Jack, and he found himself smiling to himself. He moved around the kitchen and then he caught you leaning against the doorframe, hair ruffled and nothing but his shirt hanging on your figure. He knew in that moment, one glance at you, eyes catching yours. Both of your faces breaking out into smiles. The lyrics of the song rang true. Jack Daniels had fooled around and fell in love.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl​ @arcadianempress​ @discogrrl​ @immundusspiritu​ @someplace-darker​ @thisis-theway​ @ohpedromypedro​ @scribbledghost​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @princess-and-pedro​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @littlevodka​ @all-hallows-evie​ @mack4676​ @perropascal​ @audreyshepbvrn​ @mswarriorbabe80​ @kaqua​ @novemberrain221​ @weasleywinchester​

[trashywormeateroffics]

The right universe.

Summary: After Y/N's life turns upside down, she's full of grief. Somehow, one day, she manages to travel to the MCU, where she meets her favorite characters, including a certain god who seems willing to establish a friendship with her. Suddenly she's enwrapped in this new world, where everything she loved in a screen is now reality. How will she react? Will she be able to deal with the ghosts that haunt her? Or will she let them consume her? Will she be open to accept the love she is offered? Read to find out!

Read this on AO3!

Category: F/M.

Relationships: Loki/reader.

Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Sam Wilson (Marvel), James “Bucky” Barnes, Vision (Marvel), Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Stephen Strange, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Thor (Marvel), Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Peter Parker, other minor appearances of other characters but these are the main ones, Pepper Potts, Loki (Marvel).

Additional tags: Loki/reader - Freeform, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Loki & Tony Stark Friendship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluffyfest, Slow Burn, Friends to lovers, Mutual Pining, Pining a lot because we love to suffer, Domestic Avengers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is a parental figure, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Everyone is a good bro, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, y/n, After Infinity War but no one died and the purple bitch was defeated, Missions, Y/N is a universe traveler, Grief, Therapy, Protective Loki (Marvel), Loki in love.

MASTERLIST OF THE STORY

Chapter 57: Endgame.

“Alright, it's time. Bring them back.” Steve told Bruce. It had been two minutes and a half since they killed Loki and Y/N and they were getting impatient.

Bruce nodded and signaled for Natasha to grab the defibrillator to shock Y/N as he prepared himself to shock Loki.

“Alright, on three Nat.” He said and the redhead nodded and looked at her friends limp body, frowning in concentration. “One, two, three!”

Suddenly, a gasping Y/N and Loki jumped quickly into a sitting position.

“Are you guys okay?!” Bruce asked them both, frantic, as he was trying to check both their vitals at the same time.

They both looked at each other and nodded.

“We are okay.” She told him, calming her breathing.

That's when she felt something materializing in her hand. She looked down and found the dagger of death, with some runes carved into it that weren't there before.

“You got it.” Loki told her.

“I did.” She laughed incredulously. Then she remembered how she got it and frowned unnoticed by the team, except for Loki, who noticed it and looked at her with question in his eyes. A second later, she sobered up. “Alright guys, the whole dying thing has me quite tired. Could we go to get some rest?”

“Y-yeah.” Steve answered her. “Of course.”

“Are you sure you're okay?” Natasha asked her again, unsure.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just really tired.”

“Alright, go rest guys. We will take care of the dagger.”

They both nodded and got up from the beds to head to their room.

“Y/N,” Loki began as soon as she closed the door to their shared quarters.

“Yeah?” She wasn't looking at him and that's what made him sure that something was wrong.

“What was her condition?” He asked knowingly.

Y/N took in a sharp breath.

“Sigyn's soul.” He lifted his chin and nodded.

She went to the end of the bed and sat down, looking at the floor.

“Am I a terrible person Loki?”

“You are not, my love.”

“But I… I agreed because in a way I want her to suffer. How can you justify that?”

“Y/N,” he grabbed her hand, “she killed your family. She then proceeded to lie to you and infiltrate this new family that you found with the intention of killing you and eventually ruling over the universe with a position that is yours to have.” She chuckled breathily.

“When you put it like that…”

“Y/N…”

“It just hurts, you know? When I stop to think about it, it hurts. And I don't want to hurt her, not really, past my rage, I'm just hurt… But I… I need to hurt her to end this.”

“I know, darling. I know.” He said as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. “You are the last person who should go through this.”

“Yet here we are.”

“Here we are.” He agreed.

“I love you Loki. And I'm really scared.”

“I love you too.” He told her and then breathed in deeply. “And everything will be alright. I promise you.”

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

“Y/N, wake up!”

“Loki? What-” She was cut off by a loud explosion echoing a few floors down.

“She's here.” She widened her eyes.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y where is the team?”

“The garden miss.”

She got up from the bed and began running with him towards the rest of the team.

When they both reached them she saw the scene that was unfolding with a knot in her stomach. Sigyn was there with her whole army of enhanced soldiers, smiling wickedly as she looked at Y/N.

“Steve! The dagger!” She told him.

Captain America looked at her and shook his head.

“What?” She whispered.

“You mean this dagger?” Sigyn's voice answered for him. She looked at her and found the dagger in her hands. “You were really going to kill me, little sister? That is harsh.”

Y/N clenched her teeth and put herself in a defensive stance, prepared for a fight. The goddess laughed loudly.

“You really think you stand a chance without this?”

“I guess we'll have to find out.”

“Very well, whatever you wish.” She signaled for her army to prepare themselves and soon enough, the garden was a battlefield.

“We can't win this fight! We need a plan, Cap.” Clint said in his earpiece.

“I'm thinking!” He responded as he was trying to catch his breath in between throwing his shield around and knocking out a few of them, only for them to get back up again.

“This is like fighting an army of Y/Ns and Wandas, how the hell are we going to do this?” Sam asked, worried.

Meanwhile, Y/N was looking at Sigyn, flying over them and smiling maliciously, knowing that she was winning.

“The mind flayer.” Y/N whispered with wide eyes.

“What?” Clint asked.

“They all have…” She grunted.

“Y/N!” Steve shouted. “Y/N!”

“I'm… fine.” She said as she got up from the floor after getting hit as Loki helped her. “They all have a part of her power. It's like a hive mind. We need to kill the mind that has control.”

“How are we gonna do that when she has the only weapon that can kill her?”

“Make sure you're distracting her army… and let me handle her.”

“Y/N, no!”

“Please Tony, this is my fight.”

“No, it's ours.” He told her. “Go, we'll keep them occupied.”

She smiled softly.

“Darling,” she looked at him expecting resistance but was met with a soft look. “Be careful. I love you.”

“I will. I love you too.”

And just like that, she was flying over every one of them, heading towards her sister.

“I thought you were smarter than this.”

“Yeah well, you overestimated me.” Sigyn smirked. Then she prepared her hands for combat and Y/N did the same.

Blasting her magic towards the goddess, she grunted when she missed and was in return hit with Sigyns magic.

“You stand no chance against me.”

“You keep saying that.” She blasted her magic and this time she didn't miss. Sigyn almost fell to the floor. “Are you trying to convince yourself?”

“Ha!” She laughed. “I know you are trying to distract me. You are not good at this, Y/N.”

“Oh, but I am.” She told her as she disappeared into thin air and appeared behind her, kicking her back and making her fall to the floor this time.

“An illusion? That is cheap, even for you.”

“You've always been a sore loser.” Y/N shook her head and landed on her feet gracefully.

Sigyn got up and faced her, but couldn't stand for much longer as another blast of magic hit her. And another, and another.

When she managed to get up, she strutted towards Y/N with an expression so livid it made her question what person she had let into her life for these past two years.

Sigyn kicked her in the ribs and she fell on her back, wheezing. When she approached her again, Y/N kicked the back of her legs and made her fall on her back.

For a bit, they kept throwing punches and blasting magic at the other.

“Alright, time to distract her.” She said into her earpiece.

“On it.” Sam said and began shooting at her from the sky.

“These mindless mortals!” Sigyn groaned, more annoyed than anything else.

Perfect, Y/N thought.

“Sam, keep her occupied, I need to get the dagger.” She looked at Loki. “Loki, love, could I borrow your favorite dagger?”

“I- yes, darling.” He said, narrowing his eyes at her, confused.

“Thanks.” She said and then she closed her eyes and concentrated on conjuring the dagger she had given Loki a few years back, when they had not confessed their love yet.

Meanwhile, Sigyn was trying to blast Sam with her magic and he was dodging her attempts. Until he wasn't anymore.

“Sam!” Y/N yelled as her friend fell from the sky. “Someone get him!” She cried.

“Another one on the list of dead loved ones?”

Y/N clenched her teeth and looked at her. That's when she heard Wanda speak on the earpiece.

“He's okay, just hurt.” Relieve flooded her in waves and she looked at Sigyn with so much rage she could've killed her right then and there.

“You are not going to win this Sigyn.”

“Oh, but I already have.” She said, gesturing around her, at the avengers fighting and getting more tired by the second.

Y/N looked at them, they wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer. She closed her eyes and concentrated in summoning her magic. Then she opened them and looked at her sister.

“I swear to you, you are going to regret this.” She said strutting towards her with a set jaw.

Y/N hit her again and again, while Sigyn did the same. The ones around them couldn't tell who was winning, which worried them. Sigyn, on the other hand, was sure that she was.

“Keep hitting me all you want, you know that it won't kill me. I on the other hand-” Y/N hit her on her stomach. “I can kill you.”

“I dare you to try.”

“Oh, I will.” Sigyn pulled out the dagger and began throwing jabs at Y/N. She dodged most of them, except for a few scratches here and there.

Y/N kicked the goddess onto the floor and the dagger went flying in the air, falling a few meters away.

Rolling on the ground and grunting, they were both trying to fight off the other and grab the knife.

Suddenly, an explosion rang out behind her, where everyone else was, and she turned briefly, ignoring the screams from her teammates. Then, everything turned into a slow motion movie. Screams could be heard, but only as echoes.

“Look down, sister.” Sigyn's voice sounded distant but she did as told.

“Y/N!” Loki's voice rang out as she found the dagger dunked in her stomach. “Y/N!” He kept screaming, trying to get to her, but the soldiers wouldn't let him.

She turned around slowly and looked at him. At her love, her everything. She looked around, the broken and tired faces of her family, the reason she was alive. Her life flashed before her eyes, every moment that led her to where she was now. She then looked up and begged for a miracle to happen. Turning to him, she whispered:

“I love you, Loki. Forever.” And then she fell to the ground, limp.

“No!” He wailed, his voice shattered.

“I told you she did not stand a chance against me.” Sigyn said, standing up.

“I'm going to kill you.” Natasha said, full of rage and grief.

“Ha!” The goddess laughed. “I don't think any of you understand what just happened. Y/N was your only chance, and she's dead. So now, kneel before your new queen!”

When no one did as told, still standing and prepared for a fight, she groaned and looked up at the sky in annoyance.

“I said, kn-” She choked on her own words as blood began pouring out of her mouth. She looked down to see a red stain on her stomach, growing bigger by the second.

“I told you… I'd win.” Y/N told her between small gasps as Sigyn fell to the floor.

“How did you…” She tried to ask.

“I switched the daggers. You stabbed me with Loki's dagger and I… stabbed you with the dagger of death.” Sigyn began coughing. “I want you to know…” She looked at the goddess, her sister, the one she had spent every day with ever since she appeared on the compound claiming that she was not who she thought she was. In many ways, Sigyn changed her for the better, in other many, many ways, she did not. She looked at her sister and remembered every night spent reading together, singing silly songs, watching scary movies just to see her terrified face when a jumpscare happened. She looked at her sister and couldnt find it in herself to care. So her next words, she said them very slowly. “I want you to know… that this is for my family.” And she stabbed her again, in her heart.

“I-Im sorry.” Sigyn said slowly, in a hushed whisper, as she was dying.

“I don't forgive you.”

And after coughing a few times, her body laid limp on the grass. When it did, the soldiers began slowly falling too. Then, Y/N's vision began to blur, the adrenaline wearing out and her wound beginning to cause its effects.

Before she fell to the ground, someone caught her.

[acriminalmind]

Covered in White

MaleAvengers x Fem!Reader

Summary: After stressful missions, the men want to de-stress and empty themselves and you are the perfect candidate to help them do that. 

Male Avengers in this story: Tony Stark, Steve Rodgers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, Clint barton. 

Warnings: smut, bondage, buttplug, masturbating, cum eating, vaginal, oral (m receiving), kidnapping, voyeurism, praise, pet names, Stockholm Syndrome.

Tell me if I missed any warnings.

Idk what this is. It's certainly not my best work. Maybe I'll delete this later, maybe not. This is more like a short story made out of shorter stories. Nevertheless, Enjoy!

-

Clint had been sent on a mission to a Hydra base to gather useful information when he first saw you. You were one of the Hydra scientists The Avengers were after. The moment the men saw a picture of you they knew they wanted to have you to fulfill their needs. Clint got the information he needed and then decided to wait for you to leave the base. A little after midnight you walked outside, but before you got to your car an electronic arrow struck your face and knocked you out. Clint picked you up and put you in the jet. When he had you strapped tied on one of the chairs he sends out a message to the guys with a picture of your sleeping form. Looking back at you one more time with a dark look, he started the jet and flew back to the compound. "Time to bring you to your new home."

-

The sunlight peeking through the curtains woke you up. When you opened your eyes you had no idea where you were. In a slight panic, you hadn't noticed that your hands and feet were bound to each post of the bed and that you were completely bare. When you did though a scream left your mouth. Clint, Steve, Bucky, Tony, Sam, and Peter were watching you through the hidden cameras. "Shall we officially welcome our prisoner, boys?" Clint asked his teammates before walking towards your chamber.

-

After your captors explained what they were gonna do to you, you tried to scream for help, but to no avail. The room you were locked up in was soundproof. They said to you that this punishment was better than getting sent off to a horrible prison like the rest of the Hydra scientists they found at the base you worked at. "Maybe you will end up liking it, doll," Bucky said to you darkly before leaving the room followed by the rest. From that day they would come in unannounced to destress in or on you. Sometimes alone, other times together.

-

Tony Stark

Tony came in one day after he had a pretty rough mission. He was angry and wanted to get rid of it before he went home to his wife and daughter. After getting rid of his pants and boxers he straddled your chest. The tip of his hard cock was covered in pre-cum. "You are gonna suck me dry until I'm satisfied, and don't you dare use your teeth. I will cut your toes off one by one if you do that. Do you understand, mutt?" "Yes." "Yes, who?" One of the rules you had to follow now you were their prisoner was calling them by their title. "Yes, Master." A dark smirk plastered on his face, "Good girl." He took your face in between his hands, "Open up." When you had opened your mouth to the fullest he pushed his cock inside till it was fully in and reaching the back of your throat, making you gag a little. "Your mouth feels so good on my cock." Tony started to move his head up and down. "Use your tongue, don't hold back. I know for sure that you know how to please a man with that mouth of yours. Prove it, or you will be punished." He let go of your head so you could move on your own. Licking his shaft, you murmured around his cock to send vibrations, which makes him moan. "Yes, like that. Don't stop." Looking up at him you saw that he had thrown his hand back. Feeling the throbbing of his cock you speeded up your pace. "I'm gonna cum," he warned before he spurted his load into your mouth. Before getting off of you he forced you to swallow his cum, which he watched you do with darkness in his eyes. "Till next time, pet." He walked out of the room after he had dressed back up again and locked the door behind him.

-

Bucky & Steve 

Bucky and Steve always came together. They had won a fight against a small army of Hydra soldiers and they wanted to celebrate that. They freed you from your ropes, knowing that you couldn't escape, and manhandled you on all fours. When they both were naked they took their position. Steve kneeled in front of you, slapping his huge cock against your cheek, ordering you to open, which you did and Bucky kneeled behind you and inserted his stiff member into your behind. "Good girl, taking both of our cock so good." Steve grabs ahold of your hair and stuffs more of his cock into your mouth. Bucky's grip on your hips tightened. "Feels good, doesn't it, doll?" Steve pulls your mouth off of his cock so you can answer, "Yes, sir," before putting it back in. "Gripping me tight, you're milking me dry. Are you cumming, bud?" "I'm almost there. Her mouth feels so good around me." Your walls start to clench around Bucky his cock. He picks up his pace more, chasing his orgasm. "Prepare yourself, sweets. I'm cumming," Steve moans. When he spills into you, you feel Bucky's cum paint your other hole. They moan in a union. Bucky rides out his orgasm en with these few thrusts you feel your approaching. "Come on my cock, doll. Let us see how good we fucked you." Your wetness started dripping alongside your tighs. "That's a good Dollie. Look at the mess she made, Steve," Bucky smiled at his pal. After they both withdrew from you and made sure that you had swallowed Steve his load they laid you back on your back again tying you back to the bed, but not before putting a blue plug in between your asscheeks. They both kissed you on your head before dressing up and heading out. "Sleep tight, princess."

-

Sam Wilson

Sam loved fucking into your ass. He mostly came to you after training sessions. Your feed would be freed, but your hands would still be bound to the bed. He flipped you around and pulled your ass up in the air. "Good to see you ready to take me, baby girl," he said when he admired the blue buttplug before slowly pulling it out. Bucky's cum started dripping out onto your legs. You felt the bed dip behind you. The feeling of Sam spanking your ass a few times, admiring the firmness of it made you moan. "Are you ready to take daddy?" "Yes, daddy. I'm ready. Put your cock in me, I want it in me, please." "good girl, so well-behaved. Trying to escape the first weeks, but now begging to be fucked by your owners." Sam grinned when he finally grabbed your ass and pushed himself inside of you in one swift motion. He didn't wait long before setting a brutal pace. You repeated his title over and over again with each thrust. "Take your daddy's cock, baby. Gripping me real tight. Daddy loves his sweet girl." Sam wouldn't be satisfied with one orgasm. He would give himself and you multime until he decided it was enough. Today you both got 7 orgasms before he stopped. After admiring your ass with his dripping seed he pushed the plug back in. "You were a good girl for daddy today, baby."

-

Clint Barton 

Clint made you kneel in front of him in between his legs, with your hands tied behind your back. He was obsessed with your big breasts. The moment he first laid eye on you he started to fantasize about fucking them. Now his fantasies will become reality. His cock stood proud in between his legs. He grabbed your breasts and pushed his member in between them, moaning at the soft feeling of your skin. Slowly he started to move. "God, that feels good. Even better than I imagined. Laura would never let me do this to her." When he felled his orgasm approach he fastened his pace. "Open your mouth, hun. I'm gonna cum." The tip of his cock was aimed at your open mouth. He spurted his load and except for a few drops, everything went into your mouth. "Let me see your filled mouth, baby." The sight of his white juices floating in your mouth made him moan. "Swallow." You did. The drops that didn't land in your mouth made their way down your chest in between your boobs. "This will definitely happen again, sweets."

- 

Peter Parker

Peter was a little shy the first time he went to you, but the moment he saw you lying naked, tied down, and at his mercy all that was gone. After he had to get rid of his clothes he stood before the bed, slowly stroking his long cock in his hand, watching you. When he felt ready he laid on top of you and sweetly kissed your lips, before taking his tip in his hand and inserting himself inside you. His pace was slow but with hard thrusts, making you feel every hit on your G-spot. "You feel so good, baby." He said sweetly in between thrusts. Taking one of your nipples inside his mouth, while pinching the other with his hand. "I'm cumming, are you gonna cum?" You nodded. "Words, baby, I want words." "Yes, Mr. Parker, I'm cumming." "Good, I want to cum together." And so you did. Your juices mixed inside you. The feeling made your eyes roll back. Peter let you ride out your orgasm before kissing your lips again and sliding out of you. "See you after my math test tomorrow, baby." He smiled at you before leaving in his spiderman suit.

-

Tony, Bucky, Steve, Sam, Clint, Peter

There were moments when all of them came in together. This happened mostly when they were sent on the same hard mission. You were ordered to kneel in the middle of the room. They all stood naked in a circle around you, pumping their cocks. One by one they covered you with their loads covering you in white. Your face, breast, stomach, well almost every part of you was covered with their seed. After all of them were finished they took some pictures for the group chat and left you, still covered with juices to wait for one of them to use you again. And honestly, you started to kinda enjoy being their cumrag. You were a little curious about the female Avengers though. Did they know about this? Did they also have a toy like you? You didn't get to wonder about it for too long when the door to your chamber opened and the ones you were just thinking about walked in.

-

Onto the next!

-

Check this out

[swan-of-sunrise]

Hawkeye (Part II)

Summary: Clint reaches out to (Y/N) for help and after a visit with the physically and mentally taxed archer, she takes it upon herself to meet Hawkeye’s #1 fan and impart a little wisdom onto Clint’s young partner.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: This week's chapter is a little longer because (a) I'm not sure I'll have Part III finished by next Thursday and (b) You guys deserve it!! There's a surprise character that'll pop up in the second half of this chapter and if you've seen Spider-Man: No Way Home, then I think you'll know who it is lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part II) December 21st, 2024 Apartment of Moira Brandon, East Village (Previous Chapter)

Out of all the Avengers she’d been introduced to during that fateful party at the Avengers Tower so many years ago, (Y/N) always had a secret soft spot for Clint Barton; he was equal parts kind and sarcastic, quickly noting the anxiety she’d been desperately trying to mask from the moment she arrived and taking the time to get to know her while simultaneously directing playful jabs at his fellow teammates. Their first meeting and team-up in the subsequent conflict with Ultron coupled with Natasha’s endless stories from their days of working together at S.H.I.E.L.D. cemented (Y/N)’s unbreakable trust in the archer, and it was that trust that led her to an average-looking East Village apartment building only four days before Christmas with a priceless and top-secret piece of S.W.O.R.D. technology tucked away in her messenger bag.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice, (Y/L/N),” Clint smiled as he ushered her into the temporary safe house, checking up and down the hall before locking the door and leading her into the cozy living room. “See any of those idiot Tracksuits tailing you?”

(Y/N) shrugged her winter coat off and draped it over the back of the couch with a humorless chuckle. “Nope, but I almost wish I had; I could’ve used a good laugh or two after that horrendous traffic jam on the Brooklyn Bridge.” She folded her pink scarf in half and tossed it on top of her coat, meeting Clint’s eyes with a sardonic smirk beginning to spread across her face. “Wouldn’t you know, some dumb-ass archer decided to impale a Pym Particle-infused arrow into the Manhattan Bridge and create commute hell for anyone traveling in or out of Brooklyn?”

Rolling his eyes, Clint flopped down onto the well-worn couch and sighed in exasperation; he looked exhausted, with darkened circles under his eyes and a noticeable cut on his forehead. “Still a smart-ass, I see. For your information, I shot a Pym Particle-infused arrow at a regular arrow and then it impaled itself into the bridge.”

“Well, either way, I thought you’d like to know that Scott got his ass chewed out by Hank for that little stunt,” She replied in amusement and sat herself down on the couch beside him, taking a moment to adjust her sweater over her small baby bump before rummaging through her messenger bag. “Apparently, Hank’s not too fond of his life’s work being used for – and I quote – ‘stupid shit you see on the eleven o’clock news.’”

The archer scoffed at that. “I once saw the guy use Pym Particles to enlarge a goddamn chicken sandwich, but whatever.”

(Y/N) laughed as she withdrew a small metal case and handed it over to Clint. “Back-up hearing aid, as requested; my coworker said that this is one of the best on the market, so you should be well-covered if yours ends up breaking again.” He nodded in thanks and slipped the case into his pocket. Her former teammate’s recent hearing loss as a result of years of work as a S.H.I.E.L.D. spy, Avenger and vigilante inspired her to seek out Brooklyn College’s underfunded but resilient disability resource center; she studied ASL and learned enough to not only begin teaching Steve and Carina, but to also pre-film her lectures for any hard of hearing student who decided to enroll in her Introduction to American Popular Culture course. “And I looked into that socialite guy for you…” Activating the transparent S.W.O.R.D. tablet – a parting gift from Nick Fury before he traveled up to the organization’s newly-built space station – (Y/N) allowed it to scan her handprint and read off the information she’d collected. “Jack Duquesne, born into the obscenely-wealthy Duquesne family that’s apparently descended from European aristocracy. Since he’s seemingly never worked a day in his life, he’s had enough free time to become an expert swordsman and accrue a pretty impressive sword collection; is that what he was doing at that black market auction the other night?”

Clint nodded as he studied the images on the tablet’s screen. “He wanted to add the Ronin’s sword to his collection; according to Kate, he ran off with it after the Tracksuits crashed the auction, and then he almost took my head off with it when we broke into her mom’s penthouse this morning.” When (Y/N) thoughtfully tilted her head to the side, his frown deepened. “What?”

“When I did a little more digging, I found out that Duquesne is listed as the CEO of Sloan Limited. It’s a shell company, one that launders money for none other than-”

“The Tracksuit Mafia…” The archer exhaled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Kate thinks that Jack Duquesne killed his uncle Armand. At first, I thought the idea of him becoming her stepfather someday was clouding her judgement but it’s looking like her instincts might’ve been right.”

Taking note of the stiffness in his movements and the weary tone of his voice, (Y/N) tucked the tablet back into her messenger bag as she gave him a sympathetic smile. “None of what I found out really helped you, did it?”

“It helped, (Y/L/N), it really did…” Clint hastily reassured her. “But I’m no closer to being able to go home for Christmas. I’ve got the suit and the sword, but Maya Lopez and the Tracksuits still have me and Kate connected to the Ronin and there’s a good chance that they’ve got Laura’s Rolex; I can’t leave until I track it down and figure out a way to stop the Tracksuits from targeting Kate, and I’ve gotta do all that before Kingpin gets involved.” He sat back and offered her a small smile. “The Barton Family Christmas hit a little speed-bump, as you can tell, so how’s the Rogers-(Y/L/N) Family Christmas going so far?”

“Well, Carina helped us decorate cookies and gingerbread houses for the vets down at the VA hospital yesterday, and then she decided that our living room wall could use a thick coat of frosting as well.” Clint burst into laughter and (Y/N) couldn’t help but join him. “Steve’s convinced that she’s got the makings of an artist, but I just think she likes to keep us on our toes. And this little gumball…” Beaming, she rubbed a hand across her bump. “Moved for the first time this morning.”

“That’s amazing! Boy or girl?”

“We don’t know yet, but we’re gonna open the envelope my doctor sealed for us together on Christmas Day and find out.” Memories of her first pregnancy and the overwhelming loneliness she struggled with unwittingly came to the forefront of her mind, but she forced herself to ignore them as she continued. “I’ve never really been one for big gender reveals, but after Carina’s…shall we say, unconventional birth and everything we’ve been through since, I just wanted this pregnancy to be special for us.”

A look of understanding crossed Clint’s bruised face, as he was one of the few Avengers who could empathize with desiring balance between a normal family life and the superhero life they’d been thrust into, but he merely smirked and jokingly replied, “Well, if you’re still thinking of baby names, I’ve always thought that Clint Rogers-(Y/L/N) had a nice ring to it.”

(Y/N) snorted in amusement. “Oh, really? You know, I’ve heard the same exact thing about Sam Rogers-(Y/L/N), James Bucky Rogers-(Y/L/N), Bruce Rogers-(Y/L/N), Thor Rogers-(Y/L/N), Korg Rogers-(Y/L/N) and Rocket Rogers-(Y/L/N).”

“I’m not usually one to judge, but I’ll totally judge you if you name your kid after a talking raccoon or a big pile of rocks.” When his chuckles died down, the archer’s blue-grey eyes softened as they looked between her face and the bump she was unconsciously cradling. “I’m really happy for you guys, and I know…I know that Nat and Tony would be, too.”

After flashing him a thankful smile, (Y/N) leaned her elbow on the back of the couch and rested her temple against the palm of her hand. “So, what’s this Kate Bishop like?”

“A pain in my ass,” Clint bluntly replied and when she lightly scoffed at his answer, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m serious! That kid’s cocky, reckless and she talks way too much…but I can’t deny that she’s a damn good archer and her instincts are sharp.” His brow arched as a thoughtful expression crossed his injured features. “You know, she reminds me a little of you, actually; she put that suit on to protect innocent people from the Tracksuits without a single thought for her own safety, just like how you volunteered to help an Air Force vet and a couple of wanted Avengers save the world from Hydra without a single thought for your own safety.”

(Y/N), detecting a hint of concern in her friend’s tone of voice, nodded in understanding. “You’re worried about her.”

Clint nodded. “Damn right I am. You were twenty-seven when you helped Steve, Nat and Sam stop Project Insight, and Kate’s only twenty-two; you understood the risks of getting involved in this sort of life, but Kate…she’s got blinders on. I tried to make her understand that I’m not a role model, that I’m not someone that people should look up to and that this life I’ve led for the past twenty years isn’t a game but like I already told you, she’s cocky and reckless.”

“She doesn’t know about the Ronin, does she?” When Clint shook his head, (Y/N) bit her lip and carefully contemplated her next words before speaking. “Maybe the reason you can’t get through to her is because you haven’t shown her the real you and she can sense that you’re hiding something from her; if you open up to her now, then you might be able to stop her from getting too deep into all this.” He shrugged his shoulder, but she could see that she hadn’t convinced him to confide in his reluctant partner; she glanced down at her wristwatch and hummed to herself. “Well, I should probably head out now if I want to beat the commute traffic to Brooklyn…”

“Yeah, and I should give Laura and the kids a call before I pass out from exhaustion.” Clint helped her to her feet and gave her a fond smile as she pulled her coat and scarf back on. “It’s been good seeing you, (Y/L/N), and I really appreciate your help. Tell Steve that I said hi and that he should totally name his second-born after one of his oldest and coolest friends, okay?”

“Sure thing, Hawkeye,” (Y/N) chuckled, slinging the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulder as they walked over to the apartment’s front door and giving her friend a hug, careful of his bruised and battle-worn limbs as she did. “Good luck, Clint. You’re going to fix this and you’re going to make it home for your Barton Family Christmas and on Christmas Day, we’ll give you guys a call to let you know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” With a smile and a teasing salute, Clint opened the door and watched her head towards the building’s elevator before retreating into the temporary safe house.

(Y/N) stepped into the elevator and after the door slid closed, the uneasy feeling that had begun to form when the topic of Kate Bishop came up only seemed to deepen as the elevator descended. It was foolish to further embroil herself in Clint’s struggle against the Tracksuits; not only was she entering her pregnancy’s second trimester but if a powerful man like Kingpin caught wind that she was involved, it could put Steve’s secret life in jeopardy and their family’s safety at risk. But it was Clint’s comparison of Kate to (Y/N) that compelled her to pull the S.W.O.R.D. tablet out of her messenger bag and research the young archer’s cell phone number.

“I sure hope that I’m doing the right thing, Nat,” She murmured under her breath as she worked. “For Kate and for Clint’s sakes…”

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

An hour later, (Y/N) was seated at one of the rickety metal tables outside Greenwich Village’s own Joe’s Pizza, patiently waiting for the twenty-two-year-old to work through her star-struck awe while she enjoyed a slice of pizza and scratched the young archer’s rescue Golden Retriever behind his ear.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I’ve met two Avengers in less than a week! Is this, like, some sort of a superhero test? Or a trial period or somethin’? I mean, I’ve only been in four-ish fights so far…or wait, was it five? I don’t know, I can’t really remember ‘cause I’m pretty much running on caffeine and adrenaline at this point,” Kate nervously chuckled, a little out of breath as she finally stopped rambling and attempted to rearrange her excited features into a nonchalant smile. “…So, um, what can I do for you, Ms. (Y/L/N)?”

“Please, just call me (Y/N).” Smiling, (Y/N) took another bite of her pizza slice and used it to point at Kate. “I’ve heard a lot about you from our mutual friend, so I wanted to meet you for myself.”

The young archer’s brows raised almost comically. “R-Really? Wow, that’s really…was it all good things you heard?”

“Mm-hmm, and I also saw the video of you rescuing this good boy on the news.” The one-eyed Golden Retriever nuzzled his face against her lap and perked up when she tore her slice of pizza in half, wolfing it down in record time once she offered it to him. “He’s lucky that someone as skilled as you came along when you did.” After watching the dog enjoy his chunk of pizza, she looked back up at Kate and sobered as her eyes fixated on the steri-strips that closed the lacerations that were scattered across her youthful face. “Actually, I asked you to meet me here because I wanted to talk to you about this case you’re working with Clint.”

Kate slumped in her seat, a dejected frown beginning to form on her injured face while she took a halfhearted bite of her pepperoni pizza slice. “You think I should stay home and let Clint handle it, don’t you? That’s what my mom thinks, too; she didn’t say anything about it to me, but I know she thinks I’m crazy for doing this. I mean, I’m just a civilian and Clint’s a freaking Avenger, so I guess I see why it’s nuts that I’m helping him out, but I…I can’t just sit back when I know that I can help.”

Smiling a little to herself, (Y/N) dabbed at her lips with a napkin and shook her head. “Kate, I’m the last person on the planet who’d ever tell you to stay home and ignore the instinct to help. I was just a civilian when I helped Steve, Nat and Sam take down Hydra – an unpublished historical-fiction novelist with a part-time job at the V.A., who just so happened to be one of only two people in D.C. that a couple of wanted Avengers could trust. They tried their hardest to make me stay home and out of danger but I refused, because I knew that I could help them. I had to help, no matter what, and nothing they’d say could change my mind.”

“So, you understand why I’m still helping Clint?” The young archer’s expression brightened and she sat up in her seat. “That’s great!” When (Y/N) didn’t immediately answer, her head tilted to the side in confusion. “…Isn’t it?”

“You and I are a lot alike and because I see so much of myself in you, I wanted to tell you what I wish someone had told me ten years ago, when I took my first steps into the life of an Avenger.” (Y/N)’s fingers caressed the content Golden Retriever’s fur, taking small comfort in his calming presence as she continued. “When you choose to spend your life trying to help people, there’s going to be consequences you’ll have to face. Some of the consequences won’t come as a surprise – the fights and battles have taken a physical and mental toll on me, for example, and I’ll have to live with their effects on my body and on my mind for the rest of my life – but others will. From the moment it began, my entire career’s been called into question; you see, people assume that my success is due to my long-time association with the Avengers and not the writing skills I’ve worked my ass off developing and perfecting. I lost any chance at anonymity or a private life when I announced my engagement to Steve Rogers. I became estranged from my family, because they didn’t approve of my relationship or my association with the Avengers. I went through the joy of befriending some of the kindest and most misunderstood people in the world, and then I was forced to mourn them in a way that no one but my fellow Avengers could ever understand; the world lost Iron Man, Black Widow, Black Panther and the Vision, but I lost Tony, Nat, T’Challa and Vis.”

Kate bowed her head and stared down at the discarded pizza crust on her plate. “And you lost Steve, too.”

(Y/N) nodded mutely, careful to keep up the ruse that Steve Rogers died in the Battle of Earth and wasn’t currently wrapping Christmas gifts with their fifteen-month old daughter in their Brooklyn home. “When you face the threats that Clint and I have faced, you have to accept that there’s going to be things that you lose along the way. I don’t tell you any of this to dissuade you, Kate, far from it; I’ve always believed that if you feel that you can help, then it’s your moral obligation to do so.” She reached across the table and rested a comforting hand atop Kate’s, giving her a small smile when her eyes finally met hers. “But it’s important that you know that this life isn’t easy, and it’s only fair that you hear it from one of the only Avengers who stumbled into this life the way you have. Do you understand?”

Kate nodded, and the brief silence that filled the air as (Y/N) finished her slice of pizza was broken by a timid question. “Do you know who the Ronin is?”

“…I know who they used to be,” (Y/N) carefully replied. “But if you want to know more about the Ronin, then you’ll have to ask Clint.”

“Urgh, I knew you’d say something cryptic like that. Hey, what’re Clint’s favorite Christmas movies and does he have any strong opinions about ugly Christmas sweaters?”

After (Y/N) helped Kate plan out the perfect mini-Christmas party for a homesick Clint, she bid the young archer and her energetic Golden Retriever goodbye and watched them both stroll down the sidewalk with a fond smile on her face. It was clear to her that Kate’s heart was in the right place, and that perhaps she was the perfect person to help Clint move on from the Ronin as well as resolve the ongoing conflict with the Tracksuits. I just hope they’ll both stay safe, she thought as she anxiously bit her lower lip and stroked her small baby bump, her mind preoccupied with a myriad of the worst possible outcomes to the archers’ partnership.

“Here you go, Ms. (Y/L/N): one large chicken and olive pizza to go,” The young worker’s sudden appearance shook (Y/N) out of her heavy thoughts and after setting the pizza box down, he started to bus the table with a small smile on his face. “Need any packets of Parmesan cheese or red pepper flakes?”

“No, thank you, I-” (Y/N) cut herself off when her eyes caught sight of a familiar well-worn paperback sticking out of the teenager’s back pocket and she felt herself begin to grin. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a copy of For Queen and Country with its original cover art. How’re you enjoying it?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “It’s one of my favorite books!” The young worker’s gaze briefly met hers as a light blush dusted his cheeks; there was a brief flash of grief in his brown eyes – a deep sort of grief that looked entirely out of place in the eyes of a teenager – but it soon vanished when a bashful expression graced his features. “I’ve been a fan for a pretty long time, Ms. (Y/L/N), and I was actually workin’ up the courage to come out here and ask you for your autograph. I don’t wanna bug you or overstep-”

“Of course I’ll autograph your copy!” (Y/N)’s smile widened as he stammered out a brief thanks and scrambled to hand her the paperback and his server’s pen. “Who should I make it out to?”

“Peter, Peter Parker.” Again, (Y/N) was struck by the strange emotion that flashed across his face, but what gave her pause was the sudden familiarity that his name brought her; she couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about the teenager’s name tugged at the far reaches of her mind. Doing her best to shrug the unsettled feeling off, she jotted down a brief greeting and signed her name before blowing on the drying ink and handing the book and pen back with a smile. “Thanks a lot, Ms. (Y/L/N)! It was good seein’ you agai-um, sorry, I think my manager’s callin’ me, happy holidays!”

Peter Parker, who’d abruptly turned as white as a sheet, shoved his book and pen into his pocket and scooped up the dirty dishes before practically sprinting back inside. (Y/N)’s brow arched at his odd shift in behavior, but gathered up her pizza box and strode down the sidewalk to where she’d been lucky enough to park her yellow Volkswagen Bug. After securing the pizza in the car’s front trunk (or ‘frunk,’ as Sam liked to jokingly call it), she carefully climbed into the driver’s seat and waited a moment for the baby to settle down before dialing Steve’s cell phone number.

“Hey, sunshine! How was your visit with Clint?”

“Productive, for the most part; he has an idea of who the middle-man between Kingpin and the Tracksuits is, but he’s still not sure how to stop them from targeting him and his new friend Kate or uncovering Laura’s past. I also had a quick chat with Kate over lunch, which is why I’m bringing home a chicken and olive pizza from Joe’s; you should also know that your offspring conned me into buying it.”

Steve chuckled. “Oh, they did, huh?”

“Mm-hmm, and you should count yourself lucky that it was only pizza; at four months pregnant with Cari, I was craving Flamin’ Hot Cheetos dipped in vanilla ice cream,” (Y/N) snickered as her husband made a sound of disgust on the other end of the call. “Oh, and the strangest thing happened as I was leaving! Do we know a Peter Parker from anywhere?”

“…I don’t think so, but the name sounds awfully familiar.”

“Right? There’s something strange about it but I can’t put my finger on-” A recognizable babbling in the background of the call caused her to stifle a giggle. “Someone’s feeling chatty today, aren’t they?”

“I think that last episode of Sesame Street might’ve riled her up a bit; you know how much she loves when the Count makes an appearance,” Her husband remarked before calling out, “Cari, did you wanna talk to Mama? Mama’s on the phone right now.”

The gibberish grew louder as the infant toddled over and happily exclaimed into the phone. “Mama!”

“Hi, lemon drop! I’ll be home really soon, okay? Mama loves you!” (Y/N) smiled to herself, listening to their daughter’s incoherent mumbling grow faint as Steve regained control of the cell phone. “I should be home in a half an hour or so, depending on how backed up the bridge is.”

“Fingers crossed that all the city’s archers decide to leave the Brooklyn Bridge un-impaled for the afternoon commute.” Steve joked. “You can tell me all about Clint and his new partner over pizza and my famous green smoothies. I love you, sunshine.”

She gave her phone an exaggerated air-kiss that made Steve huff out a quiet laugh. “I love you too, sweetheart, and I’ll see you soon.”

After hanging up the call and tucking her cell phone into her messenger bag, (Y/N) started the car’s engine and turned up the radio, the local station’s Christmas playlist already playing through the speakers. “Okay, gumball, your daddy promised to make us a smoothie, so let’s get this show on the road.”

Pulling away from the curb, (Y/N) hummed along to the upbeat Elton John track in the hopes that the music would distract from the unsettling feeling beginning to take form in the pit of her stomach, but the tune wasn’t enough to make her shake the suspicion that someone was watching her from afar.

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

A/N: Who do you guys think was watching (Y/N)?? You'll have to stay tuned to find out! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5 

Hawkeye (Part III)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist 

Tagging:  @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​ @junipermurdock​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345@crist1216​​​​​ @capswife​​​​​ @lilmschild​​​​​ @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​ @y-napotat​​​ @mary1raven​​​​​ @groovyqueer​​​​​ @ljej95​​​​​ @innersublimefury​​​ @prettysbliss​​​​​​  

[arlana-likes-to-write]

What Was I Made For? By Billie Eillish

Summary: After Yelena returns to Soyna's apartment from failing to kill Clint Barton she begins to question her place in this world. Luckly for her, you are there to lend a helping hand.

Warning: Self-doubt, Fluff, Lots of drinking, mention of Natasha's death, Yelena needs the biggest hug.

Word Count: 2.7k

The front door slammed shut and alerted you to her arrival. But you didn’t get out of bed when you heard the hushed voices of Yelena and Soyna through the door. It was when you heard one set of footsteps storm off, you climbed out of bed and opened the door. You lived with Sonya when she and Yelena exposed you to the Red Dust. She offered you a room until you decided what was next. However, that was the problem. You weren’t sure what was next. All of your life you followed orders and behaved like a good soldier to complete the orders to a man that no longer existed. He could no longer hurt you. What were you to do now? “How is she?” You asked. Soyna was resting her hands on the kitchen counter.

“She didn’t complete the mission,” that was a surprise. Yelena always completed the mission. You didn’t know anything about her newest assignment, just that the target was in New York City and she would be staying here until she finished the job. You sighed, walked over to the fridge, and took out two bottles of vodka.

“I’m guessing she’s on the roof,” you put on your sneakers and winter jacket.

“Zvezda (star),” you stopped before going up the fire escape. “I don’t think she wants to talk to anyone.” You smiled at your friend.

“Well, it’s lucky I’m someone special,” you opened the window and stepped onto the fire escape, closing it behind you. Zvezda it was a nickname Yelena gave you. The Red Room assigned you to a rising crime lord in the New York and New Jersey area. At least that was what Soyna told you. The things you did for them would come in flashes, mostly in nightmares. Once you adjusted to having your mind and body back, you got a tattoo of Saturn on your arm. The planet symbolized stubbornness, stability, and authority. It was for anyone that wished to take control of their life. That was what you needed. A gentle reminder that you were in control of your life and the end of your story. So they tried to give you the nickname of ‘planet’, ‘Saturn’ but you didn’t like any of them until Yelena came up with star. It fit you well.

You stepped onto the roof, the winter air caused goosebumps to form on your legs. “I came up here because I do not want to talk,” Yelena said, without turning around. She sat on the roof’s edge, legs dangling above the city below.

“Good thing I don’t want to talk,” you said, sitting down next to her. It was close enough that you felt the warmth radiating from her but you gave her enough space to not overcrowd her. It was a delicate dance to play with the blonde. You opened the bottle. “Drink.” You offered her it but she didn’t take her eyes off the busy city street below. You took a sip from the bottle, the burn made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You put the bottle between you and her, leaning back and looking at the city. It was beautiful this time of year. Red and white lights danced in the darkness. You wondered what it was like to celebrate Christmas. Holidays weren’t celebrated in the Red Room. Holidays were used as an easy way to get into a party to find a target. It was another day of training and another night handcuffed to your bed.

“You are going to catch a cold wearing that,” she took a generous sip from the bottle.

“And I thought you didn’t want to talk Belova,” she was wearing her black tactical suit. A smirk was on her face as she took another sip and you picked up the bottle, mirroring her. The other Widows liked to tease you that Yelena had a soft spot for you. She rarely snapped or became annoyed with you but you contributed to not bothering her. You let her exist, not forcing her to talk.

“What did Soyna tell you?” She still refused to look at you.

“You didn’t complete the job,” you shrugged. “I didn’t ask more. Not my place.” It was true. If Yelena refused to kill the man or woman then it had to be a good reason.

“Why are you here then?” Finally, she looked at you. Her green eyes were red, her cheeks blotchy, and dried tears on her cheeks.

“Just to sit here and be your friend,” you took another sip. You felt her eyes on you soon it became too much and you looked at her. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“I do not know,” you nodded.

“Well, when you do know I’m here,” you continued to sit in silence, passing the bottle back and forth until it was empty and you opened the next one. The alcohol was making you feel warm like you were surrounded by a big hug. Yelena rubbed her eyes, suppressing a yawn. “Come on,” you stood up, wobbling slightly. You didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or your legs being asleep. You weren’t drunk, a little tipsy at best. “You should get some sleep.” The blonde groaned and you held out your hand. She sighed, took it, and grabbed the fuller bottle before standing up. She stumbled more than you did. Was she drinking before she came back to the apartment? You were a few inches taller than her and you caught the blonde when she stumbled forward. Her head fell into the crock of your neck. Her warm breath caused goosebumps to form on your skin.

“You smell good,” she mumbled. “Like euc-euc eucalyptus,” she stumbled over the word a few times which caused her to giggle. You rolled your eyes.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed. You walked in front of Yelena as you led her down the fire escape. Your hand lingered on her hip now and again to steady her. When you opened the window, the apartment was quiet. You weren’t sure if Soyna went to bed or went out. Yelena was eyeing the couch that had been her bed for the past few nights. “Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?” You asked as if you could read her mind. She looked at you, her green eyes wide.

“Can I?” She whispered. It was so rare to hear such vulnerability in her voice.

“Of course, you can,” you took the bottle from her and put it back in the fridge, making a mental note to buy Soyna two new bottles. You grabbed Yelena’s hand and brought her to your room. The first time she was in her was when she dropped you off. You’ve changed it since then, added posters of bands you liked and pictures you’ve taken around the city. She sat on the edge and looked around your room. “Do you want to change?”

“Clothes are out there,” she pointed to the door. “Don’t wanna move,” you giggled. “What’s so funny?” She asked as you walked to your closet.

“Your just cute,” you saw a blush rise to her cheeks. “I have stuff you can use,” you grabbed her a long sleeve shirt and an extra pair of sleep shorts. You handed them to the blonde but knelt on the floor to take off her boots. She didn’t fight you but watched you with a curious expression. “Do you need help changing?” Yelena shook her head. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” You left your room with her boats in hand to give her some privacy. You filled two glasses with water before returning to your room. Yelena was changed and resting her back on your headboard. You placed both glasses of water on your nightstand. “Did you get hurt tonight?” She hesitated but shrugged. “Do you want me to look at it?”

“No,” she simply said. You turned on the light you had on your nightstand and turned off the overhead light before climbing into bed. She copied you, getting under the covers, and lay down to face you. Tears swelled in her eyes.

“Yelena,” you whispered. “Are you okay?” She shook her head, a sob escaping her lips. You didn’t think and brought the emotionally distraught Black Widow into your arms. She tensed up at the sudden contact but you felt her hands grip onto your shirt like a lifeline. “Sh, you’re okay,” you whispered, undoing the braid in her hair and running your fingers through her blonde locks. “Your safe. Your safe.” You kept repeating it until her cries turned into hiccups and her breathing evened out. She was fast asleep in your arms. You wondered if she ever allowed herself this peace, this safety net to fall back on. Yelena always seemed so strong, barely showing any emotion. It had to be exhausting. You allowed yourself a few minutes of soothing her before falling asleep.

*

It took a few moments for Yelena to recognize where she was, alone, in a room she had only seen in passing but never dared to go in. Your room. It always seemed welcoming, warm, and inviting. Yelena groaned, pushing her hands to her temples. Her head was pounding. She wasn’t sure if it was from all the alcohol she drank or the crying. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried, especially in front of someone. It was embarrassing and threatened the way she presented herself. But last night was the best night’s sleep she’s had in a long time. Yelena saw the glass of water and medicine you left out for her. There was a part of Yelena that was curious about where you ran off to but the much louder part was dreading to face you. With a sigh, she finished the water and ventured into the apartment. You were in the kitchen, mixing something into a metal bowl. “Where is Soyna?” Yelena asked. You jumped slightly.

“She ran to the store so I’m in charge of breakfast,” you smiled. “I’m making pancakes.”

“Do you need help?” Yelena offered. She wasn’t well versed in the kitchen, surviving mostly on take-out or easy microwave dinners.

“Can you make coffee?” That was something she could do and she was grateful to do something. You turned up the music you were listening to and the kitchen was no longer quiet. When the coffee started, Yelena couldn’t help but watch you move around the kitchen. You were so different than the other Widows she’s saved from Dreykov’s claws. You were soft, caring, and like Melina said all those years ago to her and Natasha you kept your heart. Her heart was tainted, blackened with grief and a thirst for revenge. But she felt empty, lost, and without a purpose. “Your thinking too hard,” your voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Sit. The food is done.” Yelena did what she was told and sat down. You placed a plate in front of her with syrup and coffee from the pot. Why were you doing this? Yelena wasn’t deserving of your kindness. “Yelena, stop thinking and just eat.” You smiled. Your smile made her stomach flip.

“Thank you,” she took a bite of the food. “It’s really good.”

“I’m glad you like it,” you both ate in silence, allowing the music to fill it. But her mind started to wander and it went back to your room. Yelena had a room at Melina’s farm, she rarely used it as she slept in hotels or apartments of the Widows she’s helped. The room wasn’t decorated, and she didn’t have posters or pictures to hand up. The only picture she had was a ripped photo strip of her and Natasha.

“Yelena,” she looked at you. “Are you okay?” She forced a smile.

“I’m okay, malen’kaya zvezda (little star), no need to worry.” She wasn’t expecting you to frown.

“Your not okay,” you said. Your blunt comment surprised her. “And that’s okay. We can’t always be strong. We have to break now and again.” Yelena chuckled, shaking her head.

“Tell me, how did you keep your heart?” She asked. You didn’t mask the confusion on your face. “Your heart is good. They didn’t taint it.” Your frown deepened.

“Do you not think your heart is good?” Yelena couldn’t find an answer. How could she tell you she was hired to kill an Avenger and she believed the lie that he killed her sister? “I think your heart is good,” you continued. “You wouldn’t do what you do if your heart wasn’t good.” Yelena laughed bitterly, looking out towards the window. She wondered what Clint and Kate were doing right now. Were they celebrating Christmas?

“Do you ever wonder why we were put through the Red Room?” She asked. “Besides following Dreykov’s orders and taking down countries and starting wars. But what about now? The Red Room is gone and we are left with these kills,” she sighed, running her hands through her hair. “What was I made for? I used to know but I’m not sure now.” Yelena looked at you. You were watching her intensely, it made her feel small and foolish under your graze for opening up like this. But she couldn’t stop.

“Sometimes I don’t feel real,” she continued. “I’m just something someone paid for. I don’t know how to feel,” Quietly, you rested your hand on top of hers. Yelena was surprised she didn’t pull away.

“What was your mission?” You asked. Yelena stared at your connected hands.

“Someone put a hit on Clint Barton,” she didn’t need to loop up for you know you knew the name. “Valentina gave me the job. She said,” Yelena sighed, closing her eyes. Her throat began to burn as she felt her emotions start to overpower her. “She said he had a hand in my sister’s death.”

“Did he?” You whispered. Yelena shook her head.

“No. It’s why I didn’t kill him,” you didn’t say anything instead you ran your fingers across her hand. It was soothing. “I wonder,” Yelena continued. “If Valentina is like Dreykov. I’m blindly following orders without thinking for myself.” It was your turn to sigh and Yelena glanced up at you. You were deep in thought, staring at the now empty plate.

“You and I and every other Widow were not given a fair or easy life,” Yelena counted herself lucky for the 3 years in Ohio. She was given a family, even though it was for a mission. It was more than some of the other girls had. “We were born to be used, and abused, and controlled but I know that isn’t the end of our story.”

“What is the end?” Yelena asked. You finally began to smile.

“I don’t know but we are free, Yelena. We write our own story. No man or woman can take that from us,” you squeezed her hand. “You were made to be anything you want.” Yelena scuffed, shaking her head. You made it sound so easy.

“I don’t know what I want,” there was one thing she wanted more than anything in the world. She wanted more time with her sister. It was so unfair how little time they had together. You removed your hand as you started cleaning up the breakfast. Yelena hated to admit how much she missed it.

“Well, I would stop working with Valentina,” you loaded the dishwasher. “Go on a vacation. Swim in the ocean. Eat your weight in ice cream,” Yelena chuckled. Once you were happy with how the kitchen, you leaned back on the counter. “That’s the beautiful and scary thing about being free there is no limit to what we can do,” Yelena smiled, a real when. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she smiled.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” she said. “How did you keep your heart?” You shrugged.

“They tried to break it,” you told her. Your smile was no longer happy. “But I had to believe the horror we were subjected to wasn’t our end. It gave me hope,” this time Yelena grabbed your hand and interlocked her fingers with yours.

“Will you join me?” She asked. “On my self-discovery journey.”

“Yeah, of course,” you said. “I’d follow you anywhere you go.” Yelena felt a warm feeling grow in her chest. She couldn’t blame the alcohol or her grief. You were to blame for this giddy feeling that she had about the future. For once, Yelena wasn’t afraid and she hoped to make her sister proud.

_

Might return to this little AU in the future. May add some angst in Part 2. We'll see what happens and how I'm feeling lol

[avengerscompound]

The Recruit - 2. You

The Recruit - An Avengers Fanfiction

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Word Count: 3124

Warnings: None this chapter

Synopsis:  When Sam Wilson is set up on a blind date, he doesn’t expect anything to come from it.  He is already in a relationship after all, and not just with one other person, but a whole group of them. You never expected to end up working for the Avengers let alone be dating six of them at the same time.  Now you’re balancing a new job, a new romance, new friends, and a secret that could destroy a lot of lives if it got out.  It’s a tricky balance to get right at the best of times, but when something happens to Steve Rogers it’s up to the people who love him most to get him back.

2. You

There had been a lot of different dates you’d had in your life.  Good dates.  Bad dates.  Fun dates.  Boring dates.  You’d done everything from the old-fashioned dinner and movie to taking a hot air balloon ride through the countryside.  Yet even with all the different dates, you’d been on with people you barely knew or knew really well, you had never felt such a strong connection with someone as you had Sam Wilson.

The date hadn’t even been that outstanding.  If you’d described the date to someone and only said the things you did, you were sure they’d tell you it sounded horrible.  Sitting outside Madison Square Garden with an ice cream listening to a band neither of you had paid to see sounded cheap and lazy.  Yet it had been fun, and relaxed, and you had loved talking to him.  He had somehow managed to both listen to you in a way that made you feel like you were the most important person in the world and to be able to hold your attention with every story he told.

The date was so good when Sam called you, you weren’t at all surprised.  Delighted - but not surprised.

“I was hoping you might like to come around,” Sam said.  “I’m a decent cook and my sister always said cooking for someone was the best way to share a part of you.”

“Aren’t you an old romantic?” you teased.  Normally you would be a little hesitant about being invited to a homemade dinner so early. They always seemed to come with the expectation of sex.  You weren’t opposed to having sex early on, but you liked to come to these things naturally without added pressure.  You trusted Sam though.  Not just because you had gotten along so well, but also because he was also an Avenger.  The fact he hadn’t gone in for a goodnight kiss was encouraging too.  He didn’t seem like the kind of person to pressure you.  Besides - you could handle yourself if your instincts were completely off.  “I’d love that.”

“There’s just one thing - and I get it if it’s a deal-breaker - but the tower has a lot of hush-hush stuff in it.  Plus, you know, the Avengers all kind of want to keep their private lives private, so coming here needs you to sign an NDA,” he explained, sounding about as nervous as he had when you’d shown up to the restaurant.  “It’s standard and I can send it to you if you want a lawyer to look it over - and I get if you’re not comfortable, we can do something else…”

“No, it’s fine,” you laughed, interrupting him.  “Send it over.  I’m ex-special-ops, remember?  I get the need for Non-Disclosure Agreements.”

“Great,” Sam said with a sigh of relief.  “I’ll email it to you now.  If you read it over and change your mind, let me know.  We can go catch a game or something.”

The NDA had been fine in the end.  Nothing out of the ordinary, just a promise not to share sensitive information about the Avengers’ business or the private lives of the residents of the tower.  You signed it and sent it back, and the following Friday you arrived at the tower at six to meet with Sam.

You had to pass through security when you got to the tower and you were directed to an elevator and told to just get on and it would take you to the correct floor.

The doors opened to a large open area with an open kitchen, a large glass dining table, and several couches along one side of the room, each paired with a small table.  Behind them were frosted glass windows that seemed to lead into various offices.  There was a selection of art on the walls and sculptures scattered here and there, but your eyes were drawn to the people sitting on the couches by the window that looked out over the city.

You froze when you saw them.  It had been nerve-wracking first meeting Sam.  He wasn’t just famous for being Falcon of the Avengers, he was legendary in special ops, and the date Joaquín had set up seemed too good to be true.  You had needed to work up to it and practice not saying something dumb.  It was Sam’s nerves that set yours at ease.  Yet here was a whole group of Avengers you hadn’t been expecting to see at all.  Not just any Avengers either.  Most of them were big names.

Steve Rogers sat sandwiched between Bucky Barnes and a blond woman you didn’t recognize, while Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton were stretched out on the couch opposite them.

Not even when Steve Rogers stood quickly to greet you and the others slowly got up with him, could you make yourself unstuck from the floor.  “Hi!” Steve said, warmly approaching you.  “You must be Sam’s date.  He’s just stuck in a meeting that’s gone two hours over so far.  He asked that we keep you entertained.  He shouldn’t be much longer.”

You took his hand and shook it and he gestured to the chairs.  You managed to move, though you hadn’t said anything yet.  “This is Clint, Natasha, Sharon, and Bucky,” Steve said, indicating from right to left.

You nodded and introduced yourself and Clint moved over to make room beside him on the couch.

“Can I get you a drink?” Steve asked when everyone except him was sitting again.

“Oh god yes,” you said, looking around at what everyone else was nursing.  Clint and Steve both seemed to have beers, while Bucky had a glass with two fingers of whiskey in it.  Sharon had a glass of red wine and Natasha had a bright red cocktail in a champagne croup.  “A beer would be great.”

Steve grabbed one from the fridge and handed it to you as he took his seat between Sharon and Bucky again.  “Sorry that you had to meet the friends after only one date,” Sharon said.  “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Could be worse.  Could be his sister grilling me about his intentions,” you joked.

“Oh god, that’d be the worst,” Clint said.  “But I guess at least Sarah’s nice. When I met this one’s sister, she tried to kill me.” 

“Harsh,” you said.  You laughed along with the lightness of the comment, but the way he made it sound, you had a feeling that it was a factual story and not a joke.  It was also your first sign that Clint and Natasha were a couple.  You wondered why they kept it a big secret from the public.

“I mean, to be fair, your brother has tried to kill all of us,” Natasha said.

“Yeah, but that’s just because he’s like that, not because he has beef with you guys specifically,” Clint argued.

“What about the rest of you?  Any other siblings trying to kill any of you?” you asked.

“No, I got on pretty well with Bucky’s sister when she was alive, and Sharon and I are only children,” Steve answered.

“He did date my great-aunt though, so that was a little weird,” Sharon answered.

Which meant that Sharon and Steve were a couple.  That was interesting because of the way Bucky was sitting so close, you had thought for a second that he and Steve were together.

Steve held up his hands.  “I didn’t know she was your aunt when I first asked you out.  And it’s not my fault that the Carter family tree has such amazing women on it.”

“Well, when you say things like that how am I supposed to resist you?” Sharon said and nudged him.

“I mean we all have eyes, it’s already pretty hard to resist him,” Clint teased.

“When have you been able to resist anyone, birdbrain?” Bucky said, raising his eyebrow.

Clint fell back laughing. “Wow.  I am definitely going to get you for that later.”

As you sipped your beer and listened to them banter you were surprised by how easy it was to get along with them.  They were funny and not pretentious and they seemed kind, even behind the sarcasm.  A trait that was not always easy to find in people.  The other thing that slowly dawned on you was that your initial assumption that two couples were sitting with you was wrong.  Sam’s friends were in a five-person polycule.  You weren’t sure if they were all dating each other or not, but there was definitely some crossing between them.

As you finished your beer, Sam arrived.  You stood as he approached and he kissed your cheek in greeting.  “Hey, sorry I was so late.  I hope they weren’t too annoying.”

“They were really lovely actually,” you said.  “Maybe I don’t want to go with you anymore.”

Sam put his hand over his heart. “I’m wounded.”

“That’s what you get for standing her up,” Clint teased. “We swoop in and steal her.” 

“I’m the only one who does any swooping here,” Sam countered as you hooked your arm around his.

“I’m ready when you are,” you said.  “It was really nice meeting you all.  Thank you for keeping me company.”

“Anytime,” Steve said.

“We should all get dinner together,” Natasha added.

“Hey now, lady,” Sam teased.  “Let’s see how this date goes before we start planning weddings.”

You waved goodbye to them as you followed Sam back into the elevator.  “Your friends are really nice,” you said as you stood beside him facing the door.

“Yeah, they’re good people,” Sam agreed.  “And they must have taken to you if they’re inviting you around for dinner.”

You laughed and nudged him with your shoulder.  “Hey, I am awesome.”

Sam looked at you with soft eyes and smiled.  “I’m starting to see that.”

You could feel your face heat up and you stared up at the numbers on the elevator watching them countdown.  The doors opened and you followed Sam to his apartment.  It was a clean space, but with the kind of clutter that you expect in a home that’s lived in.  He had a wine rack attached to the wall half filled with different bottles and a large glass bowl under it that held a ludicrous amount of corks.  There was both a CD and a record player in the hall with a huge stack of vinyls and CDs.  The walls were decorated with a mixture of photography and art and there were random sports trophies, model planes, jars filled with feathers, and loose golf balls and tees decorating the place.  You followed him into the kitchen and took a seat at the bench.

“I hope you like seafood,” he said.  “My folks had a fishing boat when I was growing up.  We still own it - but my sister runs it now.   You don’t grow up in New Orleans on a fishing boat without picking up a thing or two.  If I had more time I’d do a gumbo, but as you can see - “ he waved his hands around a little frantically as he went to the fridge. “I did pick up some fresh shrimp and halibut at the market this morning.   I thought I’d blacken the halibut, and do some cajun shrimp and rice.  What do you think?”

“I think a girl could get used to this,” you said, making Sam laugh.  “Can I help out at least?”

“Of course,” he said, getting a chopping board and the knife block and putting it in front of you.  “If you could cut up the vegetables, we’ll take it from there.”

You began to cut up the onion, garlic, peppers, and corn as Sam buzzed around the kitchen getting different things out and starting to prep the seafood.  “You okay with spice?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, go crazy,” you agreed.  “Make me regret being born.”

Sam burst into laughter and nudged you.  “That’s what I like to hear.  Steve is a complete pussy when it comes to spice.  The guy can lift a car full of people over his head but put pepper in his mashed potatoes and you’d think he was dying.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image.  “Poor Steve - he grew up in the 20s.”

“And he’s Irish, don’t forget that,” he said.

“I would never,” you agreed.  “I mean, it’s pretty impressive how much he’s adapted to though.  All the tech, and changes in the way people think.  The guy’s polyamorous, you have to give him a little leeway on his baby palate.”

Sam looked over at you with his eyebrow raised. “You picked up on that, huh?”

“Well - I am an expert on reconnaissance,” you said.  “I’m good at noticing things.”

“How do you feel about that?” Sam asked.  The tone in his voice made you think this was important to him and that he wanted an honest answer and not for you to just go along with it out of politeness.

You shrugged.  “Love is love, right? I don’t think love should be just limited to two people.  As long as everyone is on the same page and consenting adults.  I think I’d even be open to it myself if I felt that strongly about more than one person.  Why limit yourself?  I think mostly I’m impressed he and Bucky were open to it given the time they’re from.  There must have been a lot of internal prejudices to get past to allow themselves to be open to that kind of love.”

Sam’s smile seemed to soften more as he gazed at you.   “You’d be open to it?”

“I mean - I’ve never tried it, but - yeah?  I think so.  I’ve thought about it in the past and how if someone brought it up with me or if I’d be open to falling in love with more than one person.  I don’t think I need it, but I’d be open to it,” you explained.

Sam made a relieved-sounding sigh and looked down at the fish he was preparing and then back at you.  “I’m really happy to hear that.  See I need to admit to something.  I wanted you to come here so you’d meet them.  The date we were set up on?  I had been turning it down for a long time.  You see Joaquín didn’t know that I’m already seeing someone.  Five someones.  I’m part of that group too.  But I had so much fun with you… if you’re open to it, we’d like to date you too.”

You looked at him with wide eyes.  “What?”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, and you don’t have to decide now.  I don’t even really know how it would work.  I guess we’d have to get together and discuss the details of that,” Sam said.  “All I know for sure is - I’ve felt the kind of instant connection we have before once.  And I’m now completely head over heels in love with that man.  I know for a fact that love can be shared between more than two people at a time.  That’s the lifestyle I’m part of.  It’d be a damn shame to miss out on that kind of love again because it’s not conventional.”

You shook your head like you were trying to clear it.  “I think I need a drink.”

Sam laughed softly.  “There should be white wine in the fridge.  There’s some beer for sure.  If you check the freezer there’s Vodka.

You went to the freezer and took out the vodka.  Sam pointed to a cabinet behind him where he kept his glasses.  “They’re all open to this?” you asked.

“They said they wanted to meet you,” he said.  “But we’re very much about grabbing happiness where we can find it.  A lot of us don’t get that very much.  Our jobs are isolating and dangerous.  We lose people we love.  Back before I met them I was seeing a guy and he died in a firefight.  I mean - I don’t have to tell you how dangerous our jobs are.  You’ve been there.  If they think that dating you will make me happy, they’re open to it.  But we do have a lot to think about.  I mean if you’re just happy to go along with whatever we suggest we don’t want to blow up what we already have.  And you’re not just going to go along with what we want.  You have to protect yourself too.” 

You poured yourself a shot and downed it. “Okay -” you said shaking yourself off.  “This is a lot to think about.”

“I know,” he said, pausing what he was doing with his skillet and looking at you.  “Look, maybe what works for us is just you and me dating, while you’re aware that I’m with other people.  That will mean you have to realize my time will be limited.  But - whatever works, works right?  Just - think about it.  What do you want?  What are you willing to try?  What are straight-up no deals for you?  I guess, just remember - we have to be secretive.  The public wouldn’t like the idea of Captain America being bisexual and polyamorous.  Other than that - you’ll be the new person in an established group.  It won’t always be easy to be in that position.  But - you have to admit - we had a connection.” 

You let out a breath and poured yourself another drink.  “This is a lot.  I mean - we haven’t even kissed.”

Sam smirked.  “I can change that,” he said.

You looked at him and took a step forward.  He took your hand and pulled you towards him.  When your body was pressed against his you, he leaned in.  You bridged the difference bringing your lips to his.  His lips were soft and he grazed them over yours.  You had read about the spark people felt when they kissed someone before, but you’d never felt it before.  Not until now.  As you kissed Sam Wilson it felt like a current ran through you, setting every one of your nerve endings alight.  He was smiling when he pulled back and your mouth chased his for just a moment.

“How about this,” he said, caressing your jaw with your thumb.  “Let’s have a nice dinner together.  We can see how we fit.  You can go home tonight and think about it.  Call me when you know what you want to do.”

You nodded and let out a breath.  “Yeah.  I think that is a good idea,” you agreed.

He pecked your lips again and went back to cooking.  There was definitely a spark between you.  It was a connection you hadn’t felt with anyone in a long time.  The question was; could you handle any of this?

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