#Hawkeye x OFC

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

appreciation

Clint Barton x F!Reader

Prompt: “is that my shirt?”

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

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

Word Count: 1,616

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, seriously. Now stop arguing.”

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

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

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

“Fuck…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck…”

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

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

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

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

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

“You can say that again.”

“Damn.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

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

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

.

.

.

.

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

[ana-swritings]

Merry December 2022 - Day 1

Hello my lovelies.

Here is day 1 of this year's Merry December.

Hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think. :)

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Day 1 of Merry December

Prompt: Childhood Memories

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Clint Barton x OFC (Clara)

Words: 929

T.W.: N/A

Summary: Bringing back the past.

It was a cold December day. Clint and Clara were up in his room, sitting in bed in front of the fireplace, talking and laughing. Clint couldn’t help, but to, every once in a while, stare at Clara. They had been together for almost a year, but it felt a lot longer. They had met through Sam, Clara was a close friend of his and he had thought that her and Clint would make a cute couple. After giving him the “you hurt her, I hurt you” talk, even Sam was surprised to see how great they were together.

Clint was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize that Clara was staring at him, waiting for an answer. She had just asked him what his favorite part of Christmas was and when she didn’t get a response, she just stared at him, waiting. Pulling him back to reality, by waving her hand in front of him, she asked him if he was okay. Clint just nodded and kissed her.

After asking her to repeat the question, he went on to tell her that his favorite memories were the ones of when his kids were little. He told her about their staring contests, the candy cane competitions, the snowball fights and making snow angels in the backyard. He had a smile on his lips while remembering all of them and he knew that he would give anything to go back to that time.

Then, it was Clara’s turn. She told him how she was raised by her grandfather and grew up on a small farm. How she used to make popcorn garlands and how only half of the popcorn would end up in a garland, since she would eat the other half, something that used to drive her grandfather crazy. She told him how her grandfather would cut a fresh pine tree for their Christmas tree every year and how she loved the smell of fresh pine trees that would fill the house.

She told him that her grandfather would let her decorate the little farm house any way she wanted and that, one year, she even decorated the stables, putting a hair band with antlers on it, in one of the horses. She told him how she would paint one ornament every year and put it up on the tree and that her grandfather would paint one as well. Those were the best memories she had of her childhood, memories from a time where everything was simple, a time before everything became complicated and dark.

Clint saw tears in her eyes. It was clear to see that she missed him immensely and that that time of the year was hard for her, because of it. Pulling her closer to him, he wrapped his arms around her and felt her tears soak his buttoned shirt. He told her that he was sure that her grandfather was looking down on her and that he would be proud of her, of the woman she had become.

Clara slightly pulled away and looked up at him, thanking him. Clint leaned down and kissed her sweetly, feeling her kissing him back. His hands stayed wrapped around her, as they both deepened the kiss. Breaking away so they could catch their breath, they sat there, in each other’s arms, until Clint had an idea.

Standing up, Clint told Clara to just wait there for him, that he would be right back. Clint left, leaving Clara on the bed, wrapped in a cozy blanket, watching the fire burn through the wood logs and warming the room. She had no idea what he was going to do but she knew that, whatever it was, it was meant to cheer her up. Clint always did that, whenever she was feeling sad, he would come up with something to make her feel better and it never failed to work. She loved him for that.

Clara saw Clint return to the room, after a few long minutes, hiding something behind his back. When Clint got close enough to the Bed, she saw what it was he was hiding. On one hand he had a bowl filled with popcorn and on the other a couple of spools and two needles. She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips when she realized what he was planning.

Sitting down next to her, Clint took a thread and slid it through one of the needles, giving it to her and then doing the same for himself. Taking a popcorn from the bowl, he poked it with the needle until it was completely through and the line was on the popcorn, therefore placing the first popcorn in his to-be garland. Clara followed his lead and did the same thing.

Half way through it, Clint looked back at her and saw her smiling at the memories that, no doubt, were coming back to her. He smiled and gave her a kiss on the side of her head, whispering an “I love you” at the same time. Clara turned to him, kissing him sweetly and answered back with an “I love you” of her own.

They spent the rest of the night making popcorn garlands and telling stories of when they were little, laughing at some of the crazy things that they would sometimes do. Clint could tell that she was feeling better and that made him smile even wider. All he wanted was for Clara to be happy and safe and he would do whatever it took to make sure that she was.

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[thewillofdeez]

The Warlord and the Revolutionary: A Dracule Mihawk/OC Romance - Chapter 1: Unexpected Visitors

Summary: Mihawk has never been big on surprises, but when Zoro and Perona showed up on Kuraigana, Mihawk took it in stride. He learned how to adjust and even slowly began to enjoy their company. Just under a year later, another surprise showed up on his island - his ex-girlfriend, on the verge of death. The one he hasn't seen in fifteen years. And he might still love her.

Slice of life goth family cuteness headcanons mixed with OC romance.

Chapter 1 word count: 3360

Dawn broke over Kuraigana Island on an early December morning, and the rays of the sun snuck through the fog which lingered over the island, brighter than one might expect, particularly after the storm that had ravaged the island for the past two days. Dracule Mihawk rolled over in his large, plush bed, one literally fit for a king. He covered his eyes with his arm and groaned softly. Another day, it seemed.

Throwing back the covers and sitting on the edge of the bed, he stretched deeply and yawned, feeling the muscles in his back release from their taut, sleepy state. Making his way to the ensuite bathroom, he leaned over the sink and ran a hand through his hair, which hung in strands over his forehead. Not nine months ago, Mihawk would have awoken at a leisurely pace, started his day when he was ready, and gone about his business just as he always had - exactly when he intended to, and not a second sooner. But nine months ago, his life changed drastically when two young morons arrived at his doorstep, thanks to his fellow Warlord Batholomew Kuma. Mihawk had always been somewhat fond of Kuma - he believed him to be a good man, whatever that meant when it came to pirates - and held a certain level of respect for him, a feeling he believed was mutual. Perhaps that’s why the former King of the Sorbet Kingdom sent these two pastel punks his way - he knew they’d be in good, if begrudging, hands. Kuma’s true motive was still unknown to Mihawk, and given the devastating state of the man the last time he saw him, probably always would be. But, as his crimson-haired friend always liked to say with a shrug and a crooked smile, “It is what it is.”

Mihawk prepared himself for the day and made his way down the exceptionally long staircase from the main bedroom, allowing his mind to wander over the events of the last nine months since the War of the Best. The circling stairs easily took ten minutes or more to descend at a leisurely pace. There was a time not long before his unexpected guests arrived that he considered moving to one of the numerous, more accessible bedrooms housed within the ancient castle, but then they showed up, and well, suddenly he had a full house to be the master of - well, more full than it had ever been in his stay there anyway.

They were the “ghost princess” Perona, formerly of the Thriller Bark Pirates, and Roronoa Zoro of the Straw Hat Pirates. Mihawk had never met Perona before, though he vaguely recalled his fellow (former) Warlord Gecko Moria occasionally mentioning in casual conversation a pink-haired upstart working on his crew. The man, for all his faults (and really, who was Mihawk to talk about faults?), had clearly thought of her like something of a daughter. Young, displaced, and with no deep roots to speak of, Perona had joined Moria’s crew as barely a pre-teen. Such was often the case for those who became pirates - abandoned, cruelly neglected, or left behind by deceased parents, finding a crew to care for you and take you in was often the best way of survival for children who had few or no other options, and there was hardly a successful pirate captain alive who didn’t also bear the title of “adoptive parent.” Mihawk himself recalled being one of those children once.

Roronoa Zoro had made a lasting impression on Mihawk about a year and a half ago, when the consequences of a disrupted nap brought devastation to hundreds of Marines, and brought the two swordsmen face to face for the first time in the East Blue. Even before he could really claim he knew the man in the way living together allows one to know another, Mihawk had seen some of his younger self in Zoro - stupid and arrogant, sure, but also driven and full of potential. Even Mihawk could admit that with age comes wisdom, and he was also decidedly unwise at Zoro’s age, though he’d certainly be loath to admit that to anyone today.

Whereas Perona found great joy in the domesticity of castle life, filling her days with baking experimental sweets, sewing new fashions from the old bolts of fabric she found locked away in an unused room, and dusting the hundreds of ancient bookshelves (a feat made much easier by the ability to fly), Mihawk could tell that Zoro was often restless. Whether it was because he had never stayed in one place for so long or because he deeply missed his crew, Mihawk wasn’t sure and certainly wouldn’t ask. Mihawk could relate to how Zoro felt - despite making a permanent home for himself, he often felt the call of the sea, and appreciated the ability to set sail whenever the urge hit him. But now he had dependents, and a promise to fulfill, and sometimes the sea had to wait.

Zoro proved himself to be an adequate guest, after he adjusted to his new home. He cleaned up after himself, if at his own pace, and made himself useful where needed. Surprisingly, the young man had developed a penchant for working in Mihawk’s farm, specifically when planting season arose shortly after Zoro and Perona’s arrival. Mihawk was keenly aware that Zoro and Perona knew how quickly Mihawk could end their stay on the island if he so desired - by the sword or otherwise - and appreciated that the young people at least tried to be decent houseguests. 

Nine months before, about a week since Mihawk’s return from Marineford, Zoro’s wounds had been healing nicely after his numerous encounters with the Humandrills, and his training with Mihawk had been off to a solid start.

After breakfast one morning, a decidedly awkward meal with the company of three still becoming accustomed to each other’s presence, Mihawk asked the two young people to join him outside. Zoro and Perona followed him down the sweeping stone stairs and across the bridge over the lake, towards a series of land plots filled with budding weeds and old, brambly vines.

“I’m fine with you living here,” Mihawk announced to the duo, facing the empty fields. “If I’m being honest, it’s a rather…” Mihawk considered his words carefully, looking up to the fog-covered sky. “...Interesting change of pace for me.”

He turned around, hands in his pockets. “But I’m not running a bed and breakfast here. If you’re going to live on my island, you need to pull your weight. I’ve spent the last seven years making this place work by myself, and I’m going to take advantage of any help I can get.”

What could Zoro or Perona possibly say to that? Any snarky comments they might have held on the tips of their tongues were swallowed, knowing the older man was right. They were guests, unexpected and only begrudgingly accepted, and this was no leisurely vacation. Perona may not have had a set end goal in mind, but from the moment Mihawk accepted Zoro as a student, with his forehead to the cold stone floor of the castle, he knew this was going to be work. As for Perona…well, what else was she to do, with Moria presumed dead and her home only the place she once knew in name?

Mihawk handed them each a pair of gloves and they set to work. Neither Zoro nor Perona knew the first thing about gardening. The learning curve was steep to say the least. But Mihawk proved to be a decent teacher in more than just swordsmanship, instructing them on the overall plan, how to pull the old plants from the ground, break up the soil, lay the seeds, and what the expected results would be. It wasn’t a task to be taught in a week, or even two. Hell, it had taken Mihawk two seasons on Kuraigana to make a moderately successful harvest by himself, and that was after countless hours in the castle’s library reading up on agricultural practices, soil types, and irrigation. But Zoro and Perona proved to be quick enough learners, and by the time the first sprouts were peeking from the ground in early April, he could find both of them out there of their own volition, only needing to speak to him occasionally for guidance.

In the early days of their time together, as the three of them worked on their own tasks in the field, Mihawk couldn’t help but observe Zoro and he moved down along the planting lines with a hand cultivator, whistling a tune Mihawk recognized but couldn’t quite place. The hat Zoro wore covered his eyes in shadow, but a soft smile stuck out where the sun hit the lower half of his face as the song ended.

“You seem to be quite comfortable in the garden, Roronoa,” Mihawk offered as he yanked some of the previous year’s dry, stringy growth from the ground, tossing it in the wheelbarrow to be composted later.

Zoro chuckled. “Kinda reminds me of the dojo where I grew up, back in the East Blue.” He stayed silent for a moment, then continued. “I was sort of an obnoxious kid, had more energy than I knew what to do with even after training all day. Wound up getting myself in trouble a lot.” Mihawk held in a snort of his own. Obviously.

“So my sensei helped me build a zen garden. It’s not the same thing, of course, but…when I was eight and full of energy I didn’t know how to dispose of and had a brain that wouldn’t shut the hell up, sitting in the sand and moving it around with no real goal in mind…it helped me. I learned how to meditate that way. Working the soil….kind of brings me back to that same headspace, ya know?” Zoro lifted his head to meet Mihawk’s golden eyes, and was met with only a knowing smirk before Mihawk returned to his task. The silence after was slightly less strained.

The sound of a sizzling pan broke Mihawk from his thoughts as he walked into the castle’s open kitchen. “Morning, Mihawk!” smiled Perona as she looked up from the skillet.

Mihawk nodded in acknowledgement. “Ghost girl.”

“Eggs?” She asked.

“Over easy,” he replied, making his way to the counter where Zoro was pouring coffee into three mugs, a self-assigned task he had taken on over time. Mihawk grasped one and took a deep sip, feeling the warmth circulate through his chest. Perona plated the men’s preferred eggs as well as her own, along with sausage and toast and sat them on the counter, where they were grabbed by their respective person and brought to the long dining table. Mihawk, as always, sat at the head of the table in his plush, oversized chair, while Zoro sat to his right and Perona to his left. Mihawk opened up the paper, which Zoro had earlier brought in from the news coo. Before settling in he separated the paper into his housemates’ preferred sections and handed them over. Each of them ate their breakfast and drank their coffee, occasionally commenting on a story of interest. At this point, it was a comfortable routine.

As Zoro flipped through his section, he came across a picture of the man sitting to his left. The article was a retrospective of the careers of the current Warlords, likely triggered by the addition of the most recent one, Trafalgar Law. Mostly, Zoro thought, it was probably just a way to take up page space on an otherwise slow news day. While reading about his mentor, something caught Zoro’s eye:

Name: Dracule Mihawk

Origin: Grand Line

Bounty: 3.59 Billion

Also Known As: Hawk-eyes, Marine Hunter, Naked Hawk

Naked Hawk, huh? That was one he’d never seen before, or perhaps had just never paid attention to. The other two nicknames were obvious in origin, but that third one…

“Hey Mihawk,” Zoro said, “What’s with the name Naked Hawk?”

Mihawk choked slightly on the coffee that slid down his throat, his eyes widening. “Let me see that,” he said, grabbing the paper from the younger man’s hands. Mihawk’s eyes scanned the page. He then sighed and handed it back. “Twenty years I’ve been trying to bury that infernal nickname, and yet every so often it pops up. Must be Shanks’s doing.”

“Sooo…I’m guessing there’s a story there?” Perona offered with a grin.

“Oh there is,” Mihawk replied, “And you’ll hear it over my dead body.”

After breakfast was typically when training started for Mihawk and Zoro. While the storm had kept them working in the dungeon for the past few days, today was proving to be nice, if a bit chilly, and so they’d take their sword work outside.

“Hey Perona, I know it’s my turn but d’ya mind handling the dishes from breakfast? I’m itching to get started.” Zoro’s hands were already ghosting over the hilts of the three swords at his side, flexing and eager to pull them from their sheaths.

Perona puffed her cheeks in anger. “So I’m cooking AND doing dishes? Nuh-uh, Mihawk, tell him, we have a rotation for a reason!”

Mihawk sighed. It was going to be another one of those days, where the two couldn’t go ten minutes without finding something to bicker over. While he knew the young adults regarded each other fondly, hardly a week could pass without them butting heads over something inconsequential, and he of course, being an unwilling referee, would have to hear about it.

“Zoro, do the dishes, it won’t kill you to wait another fifteen minutes.” Mihawk rose from his seat and moved to the sink, finishing the last sip of his coffee and placing it and his empty plate in the sink. “I’ll meet you outside.” Zoro grumbled but turned his attention to the pile of dishes as Mihawk grabbed Yoru from its resting place and walked out onto the front steps.

Making his way to the paved area in front of the castle, Mihawk let out a few practice swings with Yoru, loosening up and preparing for the first round of the day with his student. Zoro’s progress over the last nine months had been impressive, if Mihawk could say so. While the green-haired swordsman still had a long way to go if he planned on killing his teacher and claiming the title of World’s Greatest Swordsman, Mihawk had to admit Zoro was doing well. 

Even though Mihawk found himself looking forward to their usual practice rounds, he'd personally had a lot to learn about how to be a good teacher in the one field he was truly an expert in, something he’d slowly improved upon over time. He recalled a time in the early days of their training when they were sparring together.

Mihawk unleashed a projected attack at Zoro, sending blue crescent blades flying through the air at him. Zoro had been caught off guard, and while he hadn’t acted quickly enough to deflect the attack, he had just barely been able to roll out of the way, and onto the ground.

Zoro panted, rising from the stone. “The hell, you trying to kill me?”

Mihawk scoffed. “Not my fault your defenses are sloppy, at best. That was pathetic. Makes me wonder what I saw in you in the first place”

Zoro had risen to his feet. “Ya know you’re great at the criticism, but not so good with the constructive part. Got anything useful to tell me? Anything I can work with?”

Mihawk let out a small chuckle, resuming a fighting stance. “Well…you’re great at dodging. Unfortunately, that won’t be enough to defeat me!” He leapt towards Zoro, swinging Yoru in punctuation of his statement.

Finished with the dishes, Zoro made his way down the stairs to meet Mihawk, and pulled the Wado Ichimoji from its sheath.

“Ready?” Zoro asked, smirking. Mihawk responded with a clash of his steel against Zoro’s own. The two swordsmen carried on in battle for the next few hours, Mihawk occasionally stopping to provide guidance.

The sun was reaching its apex in the sky, signaling that it was almost time to break up their battle when Perona’s voice cut through the sound of clashing metal.

“MIHAWK! MIHAWK!” The sharp-eyed man and his student turned at the sound, to see Perona floating rapidly towards them, parasol in hand.

“Mihawk there’s someone on the beach! A ship ran aground during the storm I guess? There’s someone there, she’s not moving.”

Mihawk panted, catching his breath from the exercise with Zoro. “Where? Show me.”

Leaning Yoru against a crumbling wall, Mihawk and Zoro followed Perona to the north side of the island, just behind the castle. Coming over a hill they could make out a small craft with torn sails, leaning slightly to the side, its hull driven up along the beach. A few yards upshore was an unmoving figure.

Mihawk could feel his blood pressure rising at the thought of another random stranger to take in, disturbing the peace he’d found and with whom he’d have to start the accommodation process over again if they needed to stay. He wasn’t a fucking charity. As he walked down the beach, he let out his frustration. “I swear to God if I have to take in one more stray….” A few feet from the unmoving figure, Mihawk came to a sudden halt, the expression on his face changing from anger to shocked recognition. The small frame, the pale skin, the deep purple hair… Perona and Zoro stopped behind him, bumping into each other.

“Olivia?” Mihawk said silently. Swiftly, he moved around the person and knelt at her side, flipping her onto her back. Her skin was freezing. Mihawk’s breath caught in his throat. He took in the woman before him, damp, bedraggled, breathing shallowly, and partially covered in a rash that reminded him of the way frost settled on glass. Lifting her shirt slightly, he saw it covered much of her torso and arms and was making its way up her neck and onto her jawline. With every shaky breath she exhaled, it was visible like a breath in freezing temperatures. While the island was chilly, it wasn’t that cold. Something was horribly wrong. “Shit. Olivia? Olivia??” He cradled her face in his hands, trying to get a response, but none came. Zoro and Perona rushed to his side. Mihawk bolted into action.

“Perona, I need you to go to the town on the next island, the one we visit for supply runs. A doctor lives there, her name is Dr. Takahashi. Tell her we have a woman in her late 30’s with a snowflake-like rash, cold skin, and when she exhales it’s like breathing on a cold day. Get her here as fast as possible, even if you have to drag her by the neck.” Perona nodded, her face set in determination, and without a word she took the order and fled over the water towards the nearest island.

Mihawk reached down and began to scoop the unmoving woman into his arms. She let out a small groan with the movement, her eyes fluttering open slightly.

“M-Mihawk?” she whimpered, the image of the man holding her fuzzy, but familiar, his golden eyes unmistakeable even in her delirious state. Mihawk smiled softly - the first genuine smile Zoro had seen him make in all his time on the island. Well I’ll be goddamned , he thought.

“Hey,” Mihawk said, cradling her with his left arm and pushing a strand of wet hair from her face with his free hand. “Don’t worry, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”

The woman smiled slightly before losing consciousness again. Mihawk lifted her into his arms and stepped quickly towards the castle, with Zoro in tow.

“Hey, you know her?” the younger man said, struggling to keep pace with the other man’s longer legs.

Mihawk’s golden eyes hadn’t left the woman’s face yet, his feet carrying him towards the castle with hardly a thought. But with Zoro’s question he looked up.

“I do,” Mihawk said. “She’s my ex-girlfriend.”

Next - Chapter 2: The Longest Night

[theartichokesarepurple]

y'all i forgot to post this but yesterday i was scully for my friend's costume bday party:

big slay if i do say so myself. 10 dolla blazer and tape laminated badge.

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God: Chapter 23

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

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

Warnings: canon typical violence, alcohol consumption, guns

Word Count: 7k

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

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

“I said an hour,” he stated. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, alright then. More for me.”

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

“Yeah, that’s why I asked you here.”

“Do you have your phone?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not you and you know it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, but I can read the numbers.”

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

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

“Let us help,” he said. 

“No,” she retorted. 

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

“I don’t need help.”

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

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

“Eliza.”

“I’m sorry, bad joke.”

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

She shrugged.

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

“I-”

“Get down!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?” she asked. 

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

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

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

“Foggy,” he coughed. 

Always thinking about other people first. 

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

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

“He’s fine, Matt. C’mon.”

“We need to get behind the counter.”

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

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

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

“Okay, let’s go then,” he said. 

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

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

They all looked at her. 

Eliza coughed again. “I am so sorry.”

“Sorry? What the fuck is happening?”

“Do you have a gun somewhere?”

Josie pointed to the holster under the counter. 

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did what?”

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

“What? What did you just say?”

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

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

“Oh.” He blinked. “Sorry.”

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

“That explains why you’re yelling.”

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

“I’m sorry, Matt, I didn’t know!”

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

“How did you-” he said. 

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

“Yeah, I do. They’re coming in.”

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

“Seven,” Matt told her. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pinched himself. “Feels pretty real.”

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

“No.”

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

“Tell me something only you would know then.”

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

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

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

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

She nuzzled against him. “Clint.” 

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“I hate you so much.”

“I know.”

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

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

She stepped away. “How are you here?”

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

“How? What about Laura? The kids?”

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

“What if you get caught?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

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

“Yeah, I know,” Clint responded. 

“People died.”

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

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

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

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

“Who are you?” he retorted. 

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

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

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

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

“Lawyer, actually,” she said. 

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

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

“What are you doing here with your lawyers?”

“I’m a fugitive, remember?”

“This is a public bar.”

“Well, it’s a friend’s bar.”

Josie scoffed, “We’re not friends!”

“Acquaintances.”

“Absolutely not.”

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

“But he’s blind.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How does he-” Matt gawked at her. 

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

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

“She’s right. I won’t.”

“I’m sorry, Matt,” she said. 

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

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

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

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

Matt appreciated his brutal honesty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We run,” Eliza finished for him. 

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

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

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

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

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

Eliza nodded. “Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded. 

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

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

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

“We will know when we get there.”

“Right. Echolocation and all that.”

“It’s not echolocation.”

“Then what is it?”

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

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

He sighed, “Yes.”

“So technically, you are a bat.“

“Bats aren’t blind, Clint.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bummer.”

“How did it happen?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, you more of a loner?”

“Something like that.”

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“And at what point did you become friends?”

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

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

“Yeah.”

“You have someone like that?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

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

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

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

“What, Clint and Matt?”

“Yeah, it’s suspicious.”

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

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

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

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

“Stop having bad feelings then!” 

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

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

“Nothing,” they replied in unison. 

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

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

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

Battling Jack Vs. Viktor Creel.

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit down,” she ordered. 

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m okay, Matt.”

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

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

He cried out, “Holy fuck!”

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

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

“Je- you couldn’t have warned me?”

“I warned you. I apologized in advance.”

“That wasn’t a warning.”

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

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

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

“Do you need me to stop?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” she shushed him. 

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

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

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

“Sharing is caring, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[melswifeasf]

Safest in your arms pt 10

previous chapter || next chapter || series page

Pairing: Georgia Miller x fem!oc

Summary: fall fest was supposed to be a fun activity for Samantha but it turned into nothing but a huge disappointment.

Warnings: (18+) MDNI, cursing, age gap relationship (18 and 30) grooming.

HALLOWEEN WAS THE BEST time of the year which all six friends could account for. they could dress slutty, get drunk and go to parties the whole weekend. it wasn't until their sophomore year they ditched the whole 'binge scary movies and stuff their faces with candy' deal and started going out instead. they had wanted to go to a party that night but none of them had planned a costume and Ellen had said she preferred her daughter to just go out on Saturday instead. Samantha didn't push it, it wasn't like her to do so.

the group of friends were in Matthews like most weekends. they were all sitting on the couch except for Natalie and Oliver who were on the floor like they had been last time they were there the last they were there. it was almost midnight and she thought by now she would be with a certain blonde but her friends were very persistent on her staying and she couldn't say no. even then that didn't stop her from texting her.

🍑 : are you gonna be at the festival

tomorrow?

S: prob? depends on if my friends

are going

S: are you?

🍑: i have to since Paul is running for

mayor again, he needs everyone in

the office with him.

S: does this mean Georgia Miller is

going to dress up?

🍑: i have to do that?

S: ofc you do, ur in the Mayors office

you kind of don't have a choice

🍑: does that mean your dressing up?

S: for the festival? no lmao.

S: i prob will later though, i think we're

going to some party

🍑: will i be able to see your costume?

S: i'll send pics;)

🍑: i'll be looking forward to it

🍑: what will your costume be?

S: idk tbh, we're all dressing up together

but they can't decide on what it should

whilst she waited for a response from the blonde she put her phone face down in her lap and turned her head to look at her friends. she was laying her head on Jades lap, her hair was being played with softly. Nia had Samanthas legs on her lap and Matthew was sitting beside the brunette with a respectable space between them. it was understandable that they wanted to keep things between them under wraps, especially considering they were still taking things slow and Oliver was overly protective when it came to Nia and her love life. she only ever had one boyfriend during her Junior year but it only last six months because Oliver would always try and scoot himself in between them. it wasn't fair, Nia never did that with him and Nat.

"i think we should go as nuns" Matthew said and looked up from his phone. they all laughed.

"the day i see you in a nun outfit will probably be the day that i die." Jade said with a chuckle.

"you putting that on would be an insult to nuns and i'm not even religious like that," Natalie said.

Matthew rolled his eyes, "okay i get it, i like sex." he shrugged. Samantha wondered if he was actually offended or if he was just acting like that because he always did. a part of her would believe he was offended, especially since the girl he currently had a thing with was sitting right beside him and listening to everything. although that shouldn't matter, Nia knew who Matthew was since the day they met and it's not like all of that knowledge would disappear now that they were figuring things out.

"more like you get around." Jade mumbled with a small chuckle making the girl in her lap slap her arm softly in warning.

"what about the avengers?" she proposed, trying her best to differ the conversation from him and to something else. "there's six of them so the numbers check out" she continued.

Oliver scrunched his nose, "i don't think any of us want to be hulk"

"or hawkeye" Nia mumbled.

Samantha sighed, "okay. any other ideas?" they had been going at it for a while now and it was starting to annoy everyone in the room. it was just hard, none of them wanted to pick something basic but there weren't that many group costumes, especially with six.

"we could all just wear purge masks" Natalie shrugged making both Samantha and Nia grimace.

"ew that's like super 2019. that is the most boring shit ever" she said shaking her head. Natalie sighed.

"okay then i don't know"

the room fell silent once more as they thought about more ideas. Matthew was on his phone searching for ideas but he seemed to be coming up with the same things over and over.

"what about toy story" Nia said making the raven girl point at her in agreement.

"i can be barbie. she's hot" she said earning a small smile from Jade.

"true." she agreed.

"holy shit," Oliver muttered making them all look at him in confusion. "Matthew and i could be Kens and you girls could be barbie." he proposed with a huge smile. that didn't sound like a bad idea at all, she doubted anyone else would think of doing that. it just surprised her that Oliver was the one to think about that over everyone else. she'd expect that from Nia or maybe even Jade but Oliver? that was something she never saw coming.

"why are you actually kind of a genius" Nia said matching her brothers grin.

"i think i'm more of a raquel though," Jade said, her lips twisted to the side as she was looking at the space in front of her in thought.

"i totally see that" Natalie nodded then gasped as she looked down at her boyfriend in excitement. "we could be Ken and Barbie from the Toy Story movie." she said happily.

Oliver's grin grew wider, "you're a genius babe" he said and the blonde shrugged sheepishly before she leaned down to press a soft kiss on the boys lips.

"i'll be howdy Ken," Matthew said, his lip curling into a smirk.

"valid, valid." Samantha nodded, "i never thought i'd see you in a cowboy costume and honestly i love that for you"

Nia frowned, "but then what would i be? i don't want to be in some horrid 80's work out jumpsuits" she said sadly.

"you could match with me" Matthew offered, his smirk gone and replaced with a small smile that everyone else in the room messed but Nia couldn't.

"yeah, you guys would look great." Natalie said to try and encourage her friend. they really needed to come to a conclusion so they could get the costumes the next morning.

"that just leaves you," Jade said looking down at Samantha.

"i'll be og barbie. you know, with the pink dress? god i'm gonna look so hot" she sighed out a bit dreamily causing them all to laugh.

"i sometimes forget how obsessed you are with yourself," Natalie chuckled.

"whatever, it's called self love." Samantha bit back and threw up her middle finger at everyone in the room.

they all started to talk about what they needed to buy which wasn't much since most of them already had clothes that could go with it. the only person who didn't was Natalie and Oliver because he needed a hawaiian shirt. Samantha figured her dad would have one though she offered to try and look for one for him. Samantha would just wear a pink dress that she already had and wear glittery eyeshadow along with pink heels to really seal the deal.

Samantha didn't feel her phone vibrate any more meaning Georgia hadn't texted her back. she tried not to overthink it, the blonde was probably asleep by now. it's not that she needed to talk to Georgia every minute of the day but the blonde had been a bit distant since the morning and she wondered if she did something wrong. the day that they hooked up Samantha and her stayed up another hour before the blonde grew tired and fell asleep, as soon as she did Samantha snuck out through the balcony. it was thankfully still slightly dark outside, the sun had just began to rise so it wasn't completely light outside. things were fine even the morning after, their dynamic didn't change but she was starting to wonder if the blonde had just now started to regret it, the reality of it all finally sinking in. the thought alone made her stomach hurt.

now that she knew what being with Georgia was like, life before her seemed so boring. nothing compared to the night they shared, the chemistry, the passion and overall it was just so fucking hot and every time she thought about it a light shade of pink would cross her features. her overthinking was cut short by Jade who locked her phone and threw it on the empty spot beside her.

"guess what i heard," she said a small smirk playing at her lips. everyone stopped to look at the girl, each of them just as confused, including Samantha who was looking at her with furrowed brows.

"what?" Oliver chuckled.

Jade looked down at Samantha, "Sophie Sanchez and your sister are talking." she said, her smirk never leaving.

"holy shit, are you for real?" Matthew laughed in slight amazement. Samantha didn't say anything as she waited for Jade to respond to him. there was no way Max was talking to someone - specifically someone she knew and wouldn't tell her. the thought alone hurt her feelings more than she thought it would.

Jade nodded, "yeah. i heard it from Kate. i think she even invited her to some party Brodie's throwing." she laughed and anyone who had common sense knew she was making fun of Max.

the raven haired girl didn't even care to comment on that. all she could think about was the fact that her sister was talking to someone and she didn't bother to loop her in. maybe she was a hypocrite considering she didn't tell the girl about her ex girlfriend but that was different, she couldn't tell Maxine because she knew it would ruin a lot of friendships and she didn't think it was fair for that to happen when all she wanted to do was to be happy. Maxine didn't have that problem, it's not like Samantha would get mad if she talked to Sophie. she just wished she was important enough in Maxs life to have been in the circle. maybe she was a shittier sister than she thought she was.

the girls mood had drastically changed and the only person who seemed to notice was Nia who began to rake her fingers through the girls hair. "you okay?" she asked softly, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Samantha shook her head as she tried to form a smile, "yeah." she whispered.

both of them knew she was lying.

the next day the group of friends all rode together to the festival. they had all gotten everything they needed for their costume and there was a while until they needed to get ready so they decided why not go. Natalie Oliver were still parking the car seeing as there wasn't any empty parking spaces so they dropped the four friends off before driving off to try and find a space. as soon as Nia and Jade saw that there was fresh apple cider they each broke away from Matthew and Samantha leaving them on their own. they were each waiting for the two girls near the face painting station where Samantha could clearly see her sister and her friends.

what she had heard yesterday was still fresh in her heart and seeing her sister only made it sting even more. she never thought she would be left in the shadows of her sisters life and yet here she was.

she wasn't the only one overthinking though. Matthew glanced at the shorter girl briefly, his heart was beating faster than usual which he had never felt before. why was he nervous? he only felt like this before games. he sighed, "can i ask you something?" he spoke up breaking Samanthas stare in her sisters direction and directing her sight toward him.

she had an idea of what he would be asking but nodded regardless, "what's up?"

"has Nia told you anything.. about us lately?" he asked a bit hesitantly, he paused to try and get the words out without seeming too n invested.

Samantha shook her head, "about what?" she asked feigning confusion. she didn't want to throw her friends under the bus like that, especially not with the literal guy she was crushing on.

Matthew looked at her with 'seriously' look on his face. "you're her best friend and she hasn't said anything? i don't believe you" he said and crossed his arms against his chest.

the raven girl rolled her eyes, "if you already knew the answer then why'd you ask."

Matthew shrugged, "i want you to be honest."

"she has."

"what did she say?" he quickly responded.

Samantha looked at him with raised brows, not at all used to seeing him this desperate. "just that you guys talked during Sophomore sleepover." she said honestly. they hadn't really spoken since and she assumed it was because they were taking things slow.

Matthew nodded, his face turning so he was looking in front of him and not directly at the shorter girl. "that's it?"

"did you want her to tell me something else?"

he shook his head. "i just.. i know she likes me and all but i don't know if she would want to actually go on a date with me." he said scratching the back of his neck nervously.

Samantha's expression softened, she now understood that it wasn't just one of his usual conquest, he actually care for Nia. "i think she'd say yes"

"really?" he asked his head snapped back toward the girl. she nodded with a gentle smile.

"yeah."

the boy couldn't contain his smile so he turned back around, "okay" he confirmed. neither of them could continue their conversation considering the sole topic of it was walking toward them with a cup in hand. she was laughing at something Jade had said and Samantha didn't miss the way the boys eyes shinned at the sight. she loved them together.

the brunette and Jade approached them, each holding a cup of cider. "want some?" Nia offered Samantha as she held her cup out but Samantha shook her head.

"im good. thanks though." she said earning a smile from the brunette as she went back to talking with Jade.

soon enough Oliver and Natalie were walking toward them hand in hand, once they were caught up with the group they walked around a bit to see what they could do. there were some activities which they participated in which really just means Oliver and Matthew would compete with one another. they spent half an hour carving a pumpkin which both looked equally as bad, none of them had the heart to tell them that though. that thankfully didn't last long since they all went toward the stage when they heard Paul begin to announce who had won the decoration competition. they all knew who the winner was even before so it was really pointless.

Samantha could see Georgia up on the stage, their eyes met for a second, each of them sharing a smile before the blonde turned to talk to her coworker. the six teens were in the crowd, half of them whispering to each other whilst Nia and Matthew were watching Samantha and the blonde exchange small glances.

"bootylicious really takes the whole costume thing seriously." Matthew said with a small smirk knowing the name he called her would annoy her.

he was right, the raven girl rolled her eyes at him. "shut up" she mumbled making both Nia and Matthew glance at one another in amusement. she looked so hopelessly in love and yet couldn't see that herself.

"best window decoration," Paul announced, a small card being pointed at him so he could read off of it. he was wearing a suit that was unbuttoned to reveal a super man costume, he was even wearing a black wig and glasses to complete the look. "goes to.. Liz Chavez" he finished earning an applause from the crowd. they watched as a trophy was brought up to Paul before her gave it away to the winner. "winner of best apple pie," Cynthia which isn't a surprise at all. "to the surprise of no one, goes to Cynthia Fuller." as they all expected. everyone began to clap once more but neither Samantha nor her friends did.

"bitch," Jade muttered under her breath making them all laugh.

"careful, the witch might hear." Matthew quickly whispered before turning back toward the front so they could watch the red head take a picture with the mayor. Samantha saw the small and cold interaction between her and Georgia when she grabbed the trophy from the blondes hand. that made a smile form on her lips, she loved that about Georgia. the camera snapped a quick picture and the redhead pulled away from the mayor and behind him on the stage.

"and now a very exciting announcement from the mayors office. we are going to be renovating the Wellsbury public library." cheers erupted from the crowd once more, even from the six teens who were glad they were finally going to do something different in the town.

not everyone had the same reaction though, Cynthia walked back up toward the front of the stage clearly upset with what she had just heard. "but the library is one of the most historic buildings." she said.

"exactly. this is why it deserves upkeep." Paul nodded. "we're gonna be adding a third floor. we are going—"

he was quickly interrupted by the red head who sounded even more upset, "upkeep? sounds like your plan is to depreciate a beloved landmark." she said in a condescending tone then reached over to snatch the mic causing it to make a slight squeaking sound making everyone cringe.

"fuck." Samantha muttered knowing whatever was going down wouldn't be good.

"what Wellsbury deserves is a mayor with a vested interest in preserving that standards in this town. i mean, first the drugs, now the library. where does it stop?" she said. cameras were snapping pictures repeatedly, each of them wanting the hot new story for the day.

"bitch needs to get laid," Nia joked earnings snickers from the group.

"someone get her a broom so she can fly away." Oliver added making his girlfriend shove him softly, not able to contain her amusement at his words.

"green gardens actually allowed us to have a surplus that far exceeds—"

"i saw Mayor Randolph last night on a date." she interrupted him, talking louder to drown his words out. murmurs erupted in the crowd causing her to nod, "yes. with his assistant" she confessed pointing at the blonde in accusation.

the crowd fell silent at her words just like Samantha felt her stomach drop, her before amused expression replaced with a blank expression. the three oblivious teens began to whisper their surprise whilst Nia and Matthew looked at their friend worriedly. they glanced at one another, each of them trying to have a silent conversation so try and figure out what to do.

Samantha's eyes locked with Georgia who looked nothing short of regretful but she quickly looked away, turning her attention to Paul making that horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach intensify. this was why she had been super distant they day before. she probably couldn't find the balls to tell her that she wanted to end things then. it shouldn't even matter, they aren't even together but that didn't take away the absolute pain she was feeling in her chest. was this what all of her one night stands felt when she didn't talk to them anymore? was this her karma?

she chuckled softly, her head shaking in disbelief. she felt stupid for ever thinking her and Georgia could be anything but a simple fuck.

"let's go." she said dryly, not even turning to look at her friends as she began to walk away from the crowd. not even Cynthia making a skeptical of herself could make her feel better and all she wanted was to get that horrible feeling out of her body and never have to talk to Georgia again. the pettiness of her words didn't matter to her, she didn't care that it had only been two months since they met, or that they only had sex once and that they never agreed to be exclusive. it was the fact that Georgia didn't tell her, the fact that she kept her in the dark and even texted her asking if she would be able to see her after she went to the halloween party because Ginny would be out til late. did she think she could just keep her little date a secret?

no, fuck her.

none of them questioned her as they walked to Oliver's car, at least not until they were actually in it. "why'd we leave? i wanted to get my face painted." Oliver said when he began to pull out of the parking space. his words earned him a slap in the back of his head from his sister who was sitting directly in the seat beside him.

"ouch, what the fuck?" he said his hand rubbing the impact to try and soothe the pain. Nia shot her brother a look through the rear view mirror which cause him to shut up a second later. Samantha wasn't paying attention to Jade and Natalie who looked extremely confused by the whole situation.

thankfully Matthew was the one who solved the problem which meant more to Samantha then she could ever really express. "Sam was having an attack." he lied. well, it wasn't a complete lie, she was having a sort of anxiety attack but it didn't have to do with the crowd around her.

"are you okay?" Jade asked quickly after, she turned her head to look at her friend with worried eyes.

Samantha nodded softly, "i'm good. i just didnt take my meds today." which also wasn't a lie. since she stayed the night at Matthews she didn't have her pills. she was planning on taking them before going to the party since she wasn't planning on drinking, the idea of driving to Georgias house drunk was incredibly irresponsible but that wasn't the case anymore and she was starting to regret it. in fact the only thing that could make her feel better at this point would be blacking out so she didn't have to think about her shitty love life. funny how she went from not having one just a month ago and now it was more complicated than ever.

[fairy-writes]

fairy's fics for gaza

hello everyone! i'm not sure anyone would even be interested or care about this but i'm OPENING REQUESTS for @ficsforgaza !! by tossing my hat into the ring, i hope to help raise money and interest for this cause!

keep in mind i'll maybe close my requests if i get overwhelmed or can't fulfill a request. i am setting the donation limit for $5 for 500 words. ofc this is subject to change (e.g. you want a shorter or longer request)

how this works!

you (the reader): send me A DIRECT MESSAGE (not an ask pls, those are reserved for regular requests) asking for a request. i will start working on your request once you've provided proof to me (with any personal info removed) of your donation to a VETTED FUNDRAISER. DO NOT SEND ME THE MONEY

me (the writer): once i have vetted the fundraiser (there is a list to choose from HERE), i will begin work on your request. keep in mind i have other projects to get done (e.g. original stories, other requests still in my inbox, etc.) so it won't be published right away.

LIST OF FANDOMS/PEOPLE I'LL WRITE FOR (these are all x reader):

Arcane: League of Legends: Viktor, Silco, Jayce Talis, Vi, Vander, Caitlyn Kiramman, Mel Medarda

Bungou Stray Dogs: Nakajima Atsushi, Nakahara Chuuya, Dazai Osamu, Kunikida Doppo, Fukuzawa Yukichi, Saigiku Jouno, Suehiro Tecchou

The Case Study of Vanitas: Vanitas, Noé Archiviste, Roland Fortis, Dominique de Sade

Demon Slayer: All the Hashira, Akaza, Kokushibo, Douma, Kibutsuji Muzan, Kamado Tanjiro (aged up), Agatsuma Zenitsu (aged up), Hashibira Inosuke (aged up)

Doctor Who: The Doctor (9th, 10th, 11th, 12th), Jack Harkness, River Song

Fullmetal Alchemist: Roy Mustang, Greed, Riza Hawkeye, Jean Havoc, Envy, Alex Louis Armstrong, Olivier Armstrong, Edward Elric (post-FMAB), Alphonse Elric (post-FMAB), Ling Yao (post-FMAB)

Grimm (NBC): Nick Burkhardt, Hank Griffin, Sean Renard, Drew Wu, Monroe

Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru, Fushiguro Toji, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Itadori Yuuji (aged up), Fushiguro Megumi (aged up)

Moriarty the Patriot: William James Moriarty, Albert James Moriarty, Louis James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Fred Porlock, Sebastian Moran, James Bonde

Tokyo Ghoul: Uta, Kaneki Ken, Kirishima Touka, Kirishima Ayato (re: age), Nishio Nishiki, Tsukiyama Shuu

GENERAL RULES

i write specifically SFW. no NSFW or dark content here folks. though there are plenty of participating authors who write either dark content or NSFW!

all writing is gender neutral but can be customized to a female!reader

absolutely no exclusionists welcome. that includes anyone who is or condones racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, aphobia, ableism, islamophobia, antisemitism, or anything similar.

things that WON'T be written: nsfw/smut/spice (implied or otherwise), abusive relationships, yandere, self-harm, suicide, eating disorders, mental disorders, incest, character x character, character x oc

if you have any further questions please let me know!! i've never done something like this and it's very probable i've left something unclear lol.

feel free to check out the BLOG for more information! they also have a FAQ here!

[toyatenmacanon]

a few nights ago i saw deadpool & wolverine

gods there were so many things i loved i started writing them down on my popcorn container

oh sopiler warning for every good thing so if you havent seen the movie DONT YOU FUCKING DARE CLICK (also this is a long ass post)

the "bye bye bye" dancing as dp kicks ass

and the fact that the double who did the dance was credited as "dancepool"

the ass slaps in the changing montage

the itty bitty wolverine

the feral one

the one getting crucified on the X

ok everyone knows the "are you fucking or fighting" part but

i said "both" out loud AND I WAS WITH MY PARENTS AND THEY BOTH HEARD

wolverine running at the other guys on all fours

human torch just kinda being a throwaway

and the after credits scene where he just actually says all that stuff dp said he did

the loki reference

and like. everyone

the antman base

"looks like paul rudd finally aged"

the entire diner scene

DOGPOOL

one of my notes is literally just "zesty"

"mj if youre nasty" i dont remember the context but yea

"you look like if hawkeye was a superhero"

gen z trauma

the gayass car fight scene

and wolvies badass trunk entrance

"have you been checked for adhd"

"theyre gonna make him do it till hes 90!"

the wild amount of deadpools

feat. welsh deadpool, baby deadpool, kid deadpool, sexy deadpool, dnd lookin character deadpool

i didnt write the exact quote but "something sometging multiverse all we needed was the wizard of oz the gays knew it"

the kickass deadpool fight scene where everyone just casually grts back up at the end

and peter being the one constant

the gayest scene with deadpool & wolverine fucking with the matter and antimatter together while wolvie is shirtless bcs ofc he is

the "shwarma?" ref

he started the movie with a world of 9 people, and ended with 14 people and a dog <333

im too emotionally attached to the xmen universe

also why was thor crying??? (HELP I ALMOST WROTE SHREK)

heres my notes btw

[nekoannie-chan]

Week 12 Reblog Masterlist

}Welcome to Week 12 2024 or Week 220, as always, fics would be listed in the order I read them.

I hope you enjoy it!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

♥ You can check my reading guidelines here.

♥ You can check my masterlist here.

♥ You can check my main reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check my March reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 11 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 13 2024 here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

𝙺𝚎𝚢𝚜: 💛 ᵒʳᶤᵍᶤᶰᵃˡ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

💜 ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ

🖤 ᵈᵃʳᵏ

❤️ ˢᵐᵘᵗ

💚 ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

💙 ᵃᶰᵍˢᵗ

🧡 ᶜᵒᵐᵉᵈʸ

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

This is the list of the fics I read and recommend in Week 12 2024:

Captain handsome (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @bookishtheaterlover7 💚

I'll always care about you (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @cevansbaby-dove 💚

Headcanons (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @mx-your-name 🖤

A love as sweet as honey prologue (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @crazyunsexycool 💙

Hawkeye part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @swan-of-sunrise 💚

Temporary custody part 1 (Stucky X OFC) by @sarahowritesostucky ❤️

Look what we have here (Stucky X Reader) by @1800jjbarnes 💙

Headcanons (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @mx-your-name 🖤

Slut! (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @anonymityisfunwriter 💙

In the night (Stucky X Reader) by @1800jjbarnes ❤️

Fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @cevansbaby-dove

Off Broadway part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sassypossumm 💚

Made for me epilogue (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @saiyanprincessswanie ❤️

Fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @mellowswriting 💚

Welcome home Captain (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @j-buchanan ❤️

New world order part 4 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @queen-of-the-avengers 💚💙

Take it off (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @capsiclecevans ❤️

Fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @stargazingfangirl18 ❤️

You mark on me part 13 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @georgiapeach30513 ❤️

Lunatic III (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway ❤️

Clean shaven (Stucky X Reader) by @lesbojournals ❤️

Temporary custody part 2 (Stucky X OFC) by @sarahowritesostucky ❤️

[chrysopoeias]

controversial and way too long rambling about otp and fan interpretations

I cannot stand this pathological need to insist that with the royais, it is actually all along secretly Hawkeye who is the real mommy boss in the relationship, while Mustang is a barely functioning man-child that needs her instructions just to breathe. This insistence that Hawkeye must be the meaner, nastier, cooler, more badass person I see way too often. That she must be the one that is always smarter and better at everything. And above all, she must be tired and rolling her eyes out of her skull constantly for dealing with Mustang's bullshit and the whole relationship in general. 

Why can’t Hawkeye just be lame and have her issues too? Why must she be the mean alpha boss bitch? If anyone should be the mean alpha boss it’s more likely Roy ‘I punch children to get my point across’ Mustang, honestly.

And where is the love and romance in this idea, portraying one character as always annoyed and tired by the other? Portraying it as Mustang being the child that Hawkeye needs to mother, or he might end up sticking his tongue in a wall outlet down a public toilet. If I read about it one more time I will commit sudoku in minecraft.

It feels like disrespect for Mustang’s character too. The joke/gag about him being useless in certain situations only works because he has a hero complex. He is obsessed with being useful, on never giving up, especially on others. Not being able to help others highlights that and hurts him fundementally. It is not that he IS actually useless.

Hawkeye is just not the one in charge and leading the relationship and their goals. She is the one that follows, famously. It’s a repeated point that she is the more overtly insane and dependent one. Roy’s end goal is what keeps her going. She will explicitly not move on and take charge of their plan herself if she comes into that situation, she will simply give up and kill herself.

The need to see her be the one that is just better, stronger and smarter and doing everything in the dynamic all the time (while doing it perfectly ofc) annoys me. I have no idea where this comes from, besides popular bad American cartoons and movies often using the ‘clueless man x fundementally better woman’. Or it is #feminist ideas that the female character must be perfect and in charge otherwise it's too stereotypical and problematic.

I know fandom spaces are mostly made up of women, so it’s extra silly to me that women are the ones complaining about men in straight relationships putting all emotional labour on women and taking advantage of learnt helplessness to get out of tasks. And it is correct to complain about that. But then the same people turn to fiction and go ‘Aw isn’t it cute and sexy and so endearing for a male character to be completely helpless while his better and smarter and stronger mother girlfriend has to do everything for him UwU’. Truly baffling. It’s so unsexy to me.

My sickest fantasy is wanting to see mutual effort and respect in romance. Can they just both be cringe and pathetic sometimes? Strong and clever sometimes? Take care of each other and fill in when the other is lacking? For their codependecy and mess to be mutual? 

Stop making Mustang into a helpless child FFS.

[lexytoga]

just rewatching loki, since i started watching agatha and hawkeye, just relazing what if loki ended up like sylvie if frigga didnt show him love, personlly i think frigga was the one who kept loki from crossing a line he might regert, and now seeing sylvie being more violent, more rude towards people cause she didnt fully grow up with her timeline frigga's motherly care, even in the comics, frigga is pretty strict towards loki and loki ended up being a mad king, but ofc he still loved her, i dont know just trying to justify her actions cause i think she had reasons and i like her alot lmao XD she was good in S1 kinda annoying in S2 (this is not sylvie x loki post but I dont mind the ship!)

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

to ashes, development

Clint Barton x F!Reader

To Ashes, Chapter Thirty-Five

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

Warnings: angst, fluff, canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 2,313

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

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

You wrinkled your nose. “Oh, gross.”

Clint frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You still clear on the plan?”

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

“Y/N…”

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

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

“You ready for this?”

“That’s my line.”

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

***

You were really getting tired of these guys.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do we?”

“You doubt me?”

“I—”

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

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

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

“Clint—”

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

“Holy—”

“Y/N!”

“I’m fine, just—”

“Forget the bitch! Get the Ronin!”

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

“What the hell is that thing?!”

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

“Don’t you fucking dare, Barton!”

“Just go!” he barked back. “Now!”

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

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

“What are you—?”

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

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

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

“Are you insane?”

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

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

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

“It was still really stupid, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome.”

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

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

“Is that a thing?” he replied dryly.

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

***

“Lat—”

“What?”

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

“What?”

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

“Lat– Latveria?”

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

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

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

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

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

“‘She’?”

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

“Lucia von Bardas.”

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

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

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

“And?”

“And what?”

“We’re going to take her out, right?”

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

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

***

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

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

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

“You’re a little magic.”

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

“So, how long exactly is this ride?”

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

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

“I thought I was magic.”

“Magic and despised.”

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

“Curse you and your logic.”

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

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

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

“…How about now?”

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

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

***

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

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

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

Had he… had he been holding your hand?

.

.

.

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

[liptonwashere]

requests for edits are always open!

about me

My first name is Samantha. I go by either Sam or Lena; whichever one you like.

I'm a 21 year old self-taught editor from Venezuela. I made BoB and The Pacific edits while trying to survive life, yaaay :)

INTJ 4w5. Aquarius.

Spanish / English

I love calisthenics, Carwood Lipton, music, baking, reading, economics, and editing ofc :)

edits

bob lookscreen

winnix - american teenager

speirs - be agressive!

bob - skyfall

bob - battle of the bulge

speirton

bob - soldier by fleurie

bob - i ain't worried

bob - spanish sahara

speirs - maneater

bob and the pacific parallels pt. 1

george luz - i'll be around

eugene roe - l'enfer

the beauty of band of brothers

john basilone and lena riggi - the ghost of you

masters of the air - in the air tonight

interests/fandoms

🎵 music (all over the place): the smiths, radiohead, dpr ian, kendrick lamar, elvis presley, nothing but thieves, mac demarco, arctic monkeys, muse, taylor swift, lady gaga, nf, conan gray, onerepublic, mitski, taemin, my chemical romance, queen, paramore, troye sivan, hozier, frank sinatra, agust d, jungkook, gemini, monsta x, one ok rock, sabrina carpenter, lana del rey, natalia lafourcade.

📚 books: all quiet on the western front, testament of youth, goodbye to all that, storm of steel, poilu (louis barthas), sassoon's poems, the great gatsby, poe's short stories, crime and punishment, no longer human, the brothers karamazov, frankenstein, the art of war.

📺 tv shows/animated series/anime: band of brothers, the pacific, generation kill, hannibal, sherlock, the legend of korra, arcane, hxh, snk, peaky blinders, castlevania, the boys, silo, only murders in the building, brooklyn nine-nine, the office, true detective, the punisher, daredevil, hawkeye, the mandalorian, andor.

🎥 fav movies: the pianist, the godfather, top gun maverick, spirit: stallion of the cimarron, a knight's tale, blade runner 2049, the grand budapest hotel, the dark knight, jojo rabbit, 1917, knives out, sound of metal, parasite, the gentlemen, kingsman, into the spider-verse, hacksaw ridge, sicario, the big short, whiplash, prisoners, inglourious basterds, the winter soldier, good bye lenin!

TikTok

Instagram

Ko-Fi

that's a wrap!

[findroleplay]

－ 20 year old looking for some fandom roleplays at the moment! some info about me and my rules before we go any further. i am currently in college and working while also having other activities and what not on the side, that being said i can't alway be online! please do not bombard me 24/7 but i always love a good reminder here and there, just not painfully every minute. i'm personally an advanced literate roleplayer so it may take me a bit more time to type up my replies because i love details and details and details! i also write in 3rd person and would prefer my rp partner to be about the same please. just easier that way for me. mostly i'm looking to do ocxcc (me playing my oc) but i'm also VERY happy to double up!! i love seeing other creative ocs and setting both sides around the same time and letting our ocs interact. let's just make sure that both sides are fair and we write the same for both! that being said, please do help come up with the plot. let's get our creative juices flowing and throw out all ideas, no matter how insignificant or dumb you may think it is; i will gladly hear it!! i'm very much someone that LOVES talking ooc with my partners. i love sending tiktoks, edits we make, ideas, headcanons, all outside the rp. i would love for my rp partner to also love those things because it just makes it more fun for us both! nsfw is completely fine and i am more than very happy to do it, let's just not make it something that happens every five minutes you know. i am also fine with more darker/dead dove sort of topics as long as we're both in agreement to what we're comfortable with and not comfortable with. one detail i would very much love to add to the roleplays is omegaverse, but that's not required or anything at all. now for the more fun details! alrighty here are the fandoms i am currently looking to roleplay and what characters i would love to pair with my oc from each of these fandoms! (fair warning some of these i don't have a wiki for my oc, but i do have the important details we will need to start off) - Shameless (as of this being written i am on season 5, episode 7, and i haven't ever seen the show before so i'd love minimum spoilers! i will keep track with you where i'm at in the show ofc as time goes on!) : Philip/ Lip or Fiona Gallagher. off topic but for this show i'd also love to do Ian x Mickey (me playing mickey) - Marvel (this is very broad but so you know, i have seen all the movies; not recently but i have, and i've watched up to the FATWS show. i have seen both Spiderverse movies, the X-Men movies, Daredevil, The Punisher show, Venom, and i'm pretty sure that's it for now) : Logan Howlett, Miguel O'hara, Miles Morales, Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Eddie Brock/Venom - One Piece (oh the wonder that is of this anime. i won't lie, i only started it recently and i just got to Skypiea and that arc sooo you will have to be very patient with me on this show 😭) : Vinsmoke Sanji, Roronoa Zoro, Nico Robin, Hawkeye Mihawk - OHSHC (one of my all time favorite animes, i've rewatched this show so many times already. it's such a comfort and i just love it!!) : Kyoya Ootori - MHA (so i'm rewatching the show because i stopped watching after like Endeavor Agency arc i think it was, so it was a long while back. right now i'm on season 2 and JUST started the UA Sports Festival arc so like with One Piece be patient because I have like 3-4 shows i'm watching at the moment LOL) : Toshinori Yagi/All Might, Shota Aizawa/Eraserhead, Shoto Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugou, Enji Todoroki/Endeavor, Natsuo Todoroki

i'm more than happy to move to discord to discuss and roleplay there, but for now that's all. i'll try to get back to every like that i see as soon as possible!

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[ao3feed-janefoster]

LITTLE DREAMER (Bruce Banner x Reader)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/bhEcWse

by narohhh

Short story!

ABO dynamics where everyone smells of soap up until they find their true mate.

In this case, you found yours while you were playing a game with your best friend. This game- however -comes to a swift end, because by pure accident, you find your alpha which just so happens to be Code Green.

Alpha!Bruce Banner x Female!Omega!Reader

Words: 3613, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Reader, Bruce Banner, Hulk (Marvel), Clint Barton, Hawkeye, Original Female Character(s), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Jane Foster (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Pepper Potts, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan

Relationships: Bruce Banner/Reader, Clint Barton/Original Female Character(s), Jane Foster/Thor, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe, everyone smells like soap, until you find ur soulmate, all scents i used are a product of bath and body works, bc im a slut for bath and body works, Protective Hulk (Marvel), Bruce Banner Hulks Out, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, ofc is a little shit, But so is Reader, reader is female, Female!Reader - Freeform, ABO dynamics, Alpha Bruce Banner, Omega Reader, ofc is a beta, Beta Clint Barton, Alpha Natasha Romanov, Omega Jane Foster (Marvel), Alpha Thor (Marvel), Beta Pepper Potts, Beta Tony Stark, Beta Happy Hogan, guess who can't think of anymore tags, also the world needs more alpha bruce banner, okay? bye now

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/bhEcWse

[ana-swritings]

Kinktober 2022 - Day 27

Day 27 of Kinktober

Kink: Mirror Sex

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Clint Barton x OFC (Brielle)

Words: 1056

T.W.: N/A

Summary: Let me watch you

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

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

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

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

- “Hey, beautiful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- “What do you think?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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