#I've got a solid beginning and most of an end and a big pile of mush in the middle

[galwednesday]

So back in the summer 2016, I wrote 18k of an immediately post-CA:TWS Shrinkyclinks AU with the working title The Lion and the Mouse, then got distracted and mostly abandoned it. When I was writing Bait and Switch, I stole the concept of how Steve and Bucky met from this WIP, not thinking much about it because I wrote Bait and Switch quickly and didn’t expect to go anywhere with it. Except then people asked for more, and specifically the story of how they met, with Steve saving Bucky from an attempted mugging. Which I, uh, stole. From myself.

I’m doing some writing file clean-out today and when I looked at The Lion and the Mouse I discovered the first 4,000 words are almost entirely complete, up to and including the part where Steve and Bucky meet, so I’m posting it here. This isn’t in the same universe as Bait and Switch, but it’s what I was thinking of when I was writing their character dynamics, and I thought it might interest people who had asked for Bait and Switch’s thwarted-mugging scene.

“Have we met?” Iron Man asked. “Because I gotta say, there’s something familiar about you. But that awesome cyborg arm, which, by the way, you should stop trying to punch me with, I would definitely have remembered, so--” Iron Man failed to dodge the Asset’s grab and was thrown upside-down into the wall of the helicarrier. He stuck there for a moment before falling face-first onto the floor. “Maybe not.”

The Asset scaled the closest ladder in under three seconds. Iron Man was a distraction, not the primary target.

The Asset climbed onto the catwalk and ran towards the Widow. She was ignoring the fight behind her, too busy tampering with something on the control panel.

Targeting system, a dispassionate voice in the Asset’s head supplied. The Asset disregarded the thought as irrelevant. It couldn’t help deducing information based on passive observation, but it had never been encouraged to know more than it was told.

It threw a knife at the Widow’s back. She moved impossibly quickly, turning so the knife passed harmlessly to one side, but that brought her nearly within the Asset’s reach. The Asset lunged forward--

Iron Man lurched over the edge of the catwalk and slammed into the Asset’s side, knocking them both down to the lowest level of the helicarrier, the glass underbelly. The ground drifted past deceptively slowly beneath them. The helicarrier was riding low enough that the Asset could see river water quaking from the repulsor engines’ vibrations.

(continues beyond the cut)

“We’re not done, terminator.” Iron Man tried to pin the Asset’s left wrist, but the Asset had already torn off one of his gauntlets and his one-handed grip wasn’t strong enough. The Asset locked its thighs around Iron Man’s waist and threw its body into a twist. Iron Man rolled with the spin and fired his remaining hand repulsor to gain extra momentum, trying to break free of the Asset’s grip.

The repulsor blast must have hit an already damaged support pillar. One moment the Asset was rolling Iron Man onto the floor like a beetle onto its back, and the next the Asset was stunned and gasping, lying face-up and pinned by a metal beam across its abdomen and chest. The beam was too heavy to lift. The Asset was trapped.

“And the Soldier’s finally down. Jesus.” Iron Man pulled his booted foot free of the fallen beam and staggered upright. “Romanoff, you good?”

“Swap made.” The Widow’s voice was light. “We have seven minutes until the fireworks start.”

“Great.” Iron Man shook his foot, the boot repulsor flickering on and off like a dying lightbulb. “I’m down to one and a half repulsors, so if I’m piggybacking you out of here it’s going to get pretty bumpy.”

Their earpieces crackled, a woman’s voice talking about a helicopter en route. The Asset didn’t bother to listen.

Mission failure. Fear washed through the Asset, cryo-cold. Mission failures were unacceptable. It must not fail the mission.

The Asset braced its elbows against the floor. It set its boots flat against the glass below and pushed up with its hips, ignoring the screaming agony spiraling through its abdomen.

“Easy there, tough guy, you’re going to rupture something. Correction, JARVIS tells me you have ruptured several somethings, and now you’re making it worse. Hill, better send paramedics with the chopper if you want the Soldier to live long enough for interrogation.”

Interrogation sent another pulse of terror down the Asset’s spine. It could remain silent despite almost anything, had been given plenty of practice, but interrogation was never easy to endure.

“You know, you really do look familiar.” Iron Man’s head tilted and his faceplate popped up. He narrowed his eyes at the Asset’s face. “JARVIS, run facial recognition on our party crasher.”

The Asset automatically noted that Iron Man was now vulnerable to a throwing knife to the eye, but both its hands were occupied and killing Iron Man wouldn’t salvage the mission. Mission failure mission failure mission failure.

The Widow appeared over the edge of the gangplank. She took in the situation at a glance and gave Iron Man an exasperated look. “For God’s sake, Stark. Keep your faceplate down until the Soldier is disarmed.” For a moment the Asset saw that same face, with the same annoyed line between her eyebrows, but smaller and rounder. A little girl’s pout laid over eyes that were decades too old.

Malfunction, the Asset thought.

Iron Man didn’t seem to hear her. His head snapped back to face the Asset, his eyes widening. “What? JARVIS, repeat that.”

The whine of its arm’s servos increased in pitch as the Asset strained harder. Fire radiated out from its sternum as additional ribs fractured under the pressure. The beam didn’t move.

The panel of glass beneath the Asset did.

The panel separated from one side of its metal housing with a sharp crack. The Asset watched the gap grow wider by inches, slow but inexorable. The seam was going to fail, and the Asset was going to fall.

The Asset stopped pushing against the beam, letting its body go lax against the slowly shifting glass. There was no way to prevent it. And it was fitting, somehow, that the Asset should die by falling.

The Asset didn’t know why. The Asset knew a lot of things without knowing how it knew them.

Iron Man didn’t notice the panel sagging. His eyes, brown and heavy-browed and incomprehensibly familiar, stared at the Asset’s face.

“Sergeant Barnes?”

The glass gave way.

The Asset fell.

Before it hit the water, words formed somewhere in the whirling chaos behind the Asset’s eyes, shaping themselves in accordance with a long-forgotten accent.

Fuckin’ finally.

[[PROBABLY A CHAPTER BREAK]]

The Asset hadn’t expected to survive the fall. The shock of water closing over its head prompted its body to struggle automatically, kicking towards the light in search of oxygen. Once it was breathing and treading water, extraction training kicked in.

The Asset dragged itself to shore and wove a muddy trail through the parks and back alleys of the city, concealing its passage on autopilot. It tore a strip off its undershirt to tie over the bullet wound in its thigh. Pursuers might have sniffer dogs. The Asset must avoid leaving a blood trail.

Iron Man’s parting words played on repeat. Sergeant Barnes? There was something right-but-not-right about Iron Man’s face, about the Widow’s face, something known-but-not-known. Stark, she had called him. His face, his voice, that name, Sergeant Barnes? The Asset’s head buzzed with dissonance.

The Asset didn’t expect to survive the confrontation with its handlers. The Asset had already known it was scheduled for decommissioning. The technicians routinely forgot how acute its hearing was and discussed forbidden topics where the Asset couldn’t help but overhear; it never drew attention to this in case it was punished for listening. The Asset had known before it even reached the helicarrier that this was to be its final mission. Its failure just proved the handlers right. It had grown unstable, erratic, ineffective. The Asset was a tool that had outlived its usefulness.

The Asset reported in because that was how all the its missions ended, and it didn’t know to do anything different in case of mission failure, but it wouldn’t have surprised the Asset to be greeted with a bullet to the brain as soon as it walked into the bank.

Instead, the five technicians in the vault nearly pissed themselves when the Asset appeared, silent as ever even though it couldn’t stand fully upright. Most of the broken ribs were on its right side where the beam had struck. Its abdomen felt worse than the the ribs, or the gunshot wound in its left thigh, but the Asset could feel its body already working to repair the damage. Soft tissue damage healed quickly. It would survive these injuries, if it was allowed to.

“M-mission report,” one of the technicians stammered. That wasn’t proper procedure, handlers were the ones who debriefed the Asset, but there were no handlers present to report to.

The Asset gave its report anyway. Anticipation of punishment was worse than pain, and it didn’t want to wait. It was going to be decommissioned anyway. What was a protocol violation compared to the mission failure it was about to recount?

The Asset’s summary of events made the technicians draw together in a frightened huddle. Two of them kept glancing at the door, either hopeful or worried about who might come through next. Another, the quietest and calmest, snuck two quick looks at the bulletin board the Asset knew concealed a wall safe containing cash and emergency supplies. The other two appeared to be in a state of shock.

“Fuck,” one whispered when the Asset finished. “The news was right. Shit, oh shit.”

“Does that mean Pierce is really dead?”

“The STRIKE teams haven’t checked in. If they were on the helicarriers--”

“They must be dead, too. Or arrested.”

“Christ, look at all these files.” One technician was at a computer, her face frantic as she typed. “They released everything. Everything.”

“What about this address? Is this base burned?”

“Fuck, forget about the base, what about our addresses? Our names?”

“Stop trying to grab the keyboard, look on your own fucking computer!”

The technicians bickered while the Asset stood against the wall. Nobody had told it to do anything else.

The wait gave its ribs time to knit back together. The searing pain in its abdomen lessened, slowly fading into the deep ache of bruising instead of the acute fire of rupture. The Asset was extremely thirsty, but nobody had given it water. The gunshot wound in its thigh reopened as its body worked to expel the embedded bullet. Eventually the bullet dropped down its pant leg, resting on the top of its boot.

Its mind rattled. It hurt, conflicting thoughts grinding against each other, forbidden memories and whistling gaps. The chair would scrape the confusion away, but the chair--

The Asset didn’t like the chair.

The quietest technician wasn’t searching for information like the others. He was sitting at his desk, thinking, watching the other technicians. Watching the Asset. Sweat gathered at his temples and darkened his hair.

The Asset tracked his movements when the quiet technician pulled a pistol from a desk drawer.

The other technicians were facing away, arguing among themselves and distracted by their computers. Easy targets.

The armed technician killed the others. He was fast and fairly professional about it, needing no more than three bullets per target before they stayed down, but it was loud and messy all the same. The shots echoed in the enclosed space despite the vault’s sound-proofing, bleeding into one staccato cacophony.

The Asset watched silently as the technician swallowed hard and readjusted his grip on the pistol. He lowered it to his side.

“Asset,” the technician said. He pulled the bulletin board off the wall. “Open this safe.”

The Asset didn’t know the combination of the safe, but it was an older model and had never been built to stand up to a weapon like the Asset’s arm. One heave on the door handle pulled the entire safe from its wall housing. The movement reopened the Asset’s wounds, sending more acid through its abdomen and a rush of hot blood down its thigh, but the pain wasn’t mission relevant. It could be ignored.

The Asset threw the safe across the room. It smashed corner-first into the reinforced vault door and burst open, spilling its contents onto the floor.

“Jesus Christ! You crazy fucker.” The technician glared at the Asset. “There are grenades in there, fuck.”

The Asset felt a little indignant. The technician should have included this information in the mission briefing if he felt it was relevant. The watching part of the Asset, the part that eavesdropped on handlers and kept its conclusions to itself, thought that the technician was a poor substitute for a handler. He didn’t observe the proper protocols. Probably didn’t know the proper protocols.

Running scared, the watching part Asset thought. Pierce was dead. The STRIKE teams were dead or captured. Hydra’s files had been released to the world. Low-level Hydra agents would be running scared.

If there was one emotion the Asset could reliably recognize, one pattern of behavior it could predict, it was fear.

Who was authorized to command the Asset, with Pierce and Rumlow out of commission? Who was authorized to punish the Asset for mission failure? Who would issue corrections for disobedience?

The watching part of the Asset unfurled and stretched.

The technician glanced up from where he was kneeling by the safe, scooping bundled papers and bricks of cash into a paper bag. He jerked his chin at the Asset’s thigh, which was still oozing blood. “Can you fight with that?”

It was a stupid question. The Asset’s internal ruptures were far more limiting to mission performance than a mostly-healed flesh wound. But the technician had never ordered the Asset to report its full status, so he was unaware of the extent of the damage. Not a handler, the Asset reminded itself. Its pulse picked up with an emotion it couldn’t identify, something like the feeling of checking weapons before a firefight.

“Functional for moderate combat,” the Asset reported. It added, because the technician was clearly not going to think of it on his own, “Rehydration necessary.”

The technician took a coffee cup from one of the desks, filled it from the water cooler in the corner, and pressed it into the Asset’s hands. The Asset drained it quickly before it could be taken away. The water was cool and pleasantly tasteless, much better than the noxious river water it had swallowed earlier or the nutrient IVs it was usually given. Evidently there were advantages to not having a real handler.

The technician looked at the chair and frowned. The Asset’s grip on the coffee mug tightened, but the technician was a cryo specialist. He didn’t know how to use the chair, and he had just killed the technicians that did.

“Fuck it,” the technician muttered. He grabbed the bags of cash and weapons and jerked his head at the door. “Asset, move out.”

***

The technician waved the Asset into the passenger’s seat of one of the field vans, not the black one that rode heavy with armor plating, but the white one with “RUSTY’S PLUMBING - RESULTS GUARANTEED!” painted on its side in big, looping letters. He put the bags of cash and weapons into the back and tucked his pistol into a holster hidden under his blue windbreaker. He put on a headset and connected it to his phone before he started driving, pulling onto I-95 and heading north.

“Buckle your seat belt,” the technician ordered. The Asset complied. It was good to ride in the front of a vehicle, with a full range of vision for upcoming obstacles or threats. The trees lining the highway were pleasant to look at. The Asset occupied itself by memorizing the license plate of every car they passed.

The technician received a call after 22 minutes of driving.

“What?” the technician demanded. “No, I told you. Get the STRIKE teams out of lockup and meet me at the rendezvous in Trenton. Blow up the building if you have to, just stop them from getting transferred to somewhere more secure.” A pause, then the technician slammed his palm onto the top of the steering wheel. “Fuck your cover! Are you even listening to me? I cleaned out the base in D.C. I have the Asset. Shit, that’s enough to start a new cell right there. Your cover’s blown already. All our covers are blown, once they decode those files.” Another, longer pause. “Do whatever you have to do. Report in three hours.” The technician yanked off his headset and slumped back in his seat. “Fucking moron.”

The technician listened to the radio the entire drive, sometimes swearing or punching the dashboard as news anchors revealed a new piece of information. The Asset sat silently without giving any sign that it registered what was being said.

The radio gave names for Iron Man and the Black Widow: Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff. The names were right-but-wrong just like the faces.

Sergeant Barnes. The news didn’t mention that name. The news didn’t mention the Asset at all, although it had a lot to say about Alexander Pierce and Nick Fury and SHIELD and Hydra and Natasha Romanov and Tony Stark. The Asset rolled the names through its mind, lost in thought. Tony Stark. Sergeant Barnes. Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, Natashenka, Nat…

The Asset couldn’t arrive at the correct name, but Nat recalled a child with red hair and a killer’s eyes. The Black Widow’s face in miniature.

Malfunction, the Asset thought automatically. It hadn’t been wiped in more than nine days, far longer than standard protocol. One of the technicians had complained to a handler about it and had been overruled. The Asset’s initial assassination of Fury, Nicholas J. had spawned unexpected, urgent follow-up missions as Hydra’s maneuvers were countered by SHIELD loyalists, and Rumlow had wanted the Asset to be field-ready at a moment’s notice.

Wipes kept mission-irrelevant memories at bay. The Asset was to report unauthorized memories to its handler at once, so the distractions could be properly removed.

The Asset had no handlers left to report to. The Asset said nothing. The watching part of the Asset approved. It wanted to wait and see what would happen.

The Asset was very good at waiting.

They stopped in Pennsylvania, just shy of the border with New Jersey. The technician left the Asset in the car while he pumped gas. Once the tank was full, the technician hovered by the car for a few moments, then opened the passenger-side door.

“Out,” the technician ordered. “We’re going inside. Stay behind me. Don’t say anything. Got it?”

“Confirm.” Standing up was a mix of pleasurable stretching of cramped muscles and painful pulling on wounds that hadn’t quite healed. The Asset’s abdomen felt hot and tender but essentially sound. Its thigh wound had closed and was forming scar tissue that would fade away within a week. The Asset could fight if it had to; it had pushed through injuries that were much worse.

The gas station was empty apart from a clerk at the desk who glanced up at the technician and the Asset, then went back to reading her magazine. The Asset shadowed the technician’s footsteps, taking a perverse pleasure in hiding in the technician’s blind spot, so the technician was constantly turning his head to catch sight of it. Malfunction, the Asset thought, just a little more smug than wary. The technician wasn’t a handler. The technician could hurt the Asset in the course of regular maintenance, when the Asset’s pain was incidental, but he didn’t have the authority to discipline it.

Whoever the technician was taking the Asset to might have that authority. Sobered by the thought, the Asset dropped back a few more paces. The radio had claimed that Alexander Pierce was dead, but there were others. There were always others.

[[TV playing in the corner shows driver’s license photos of suspected Hydra personnel that includes the technician; he sees the store clerk recognize him]]

“Shit,” the technician hissed, face twisting. He pulled his gun from the small of his back.

The clerk froze in place, her mouth opening in shock.

The Asset moved without knowing it was going to. Its flesh hand snatched the gun from the technician’s grip. The technician’s head snapped back as the Asset’s metal fist collided with its chin. The Asset heard the crack of bone.

The cashier screamed.

The technician was dead before he hit the floor.

The Asset separated the clip from the gun, set both of them on the floor, and left the gas station at a sprint.

[[disables tracker and whatever drug ampoules he can reach, manages to backtrack to Philly before collapsing to ride out the withdrawal]]

The Asset hadn’t expected to survive coming down from whatever drugs Hydra had used to keep it docile and compliant. At the worst stage of the withdrawal, when it was shaking, puking, and hallucinating in the basement of a condemned building, it had wished it was back in cryo, numb and frozen and not hurting. It would even have gone to the chair.

Two days later, it had crawled out of the basement, filthy and exhausted but more clear-headed than it could ever remember being.

The Asset was starting to feel a certain kinship with cockroaches.

The Asset spent more than a month just keeping low, moving only through shadows and sleeping once every three days, curling up on rooftops and in flophouses. Hydra didn’t find it. SHIELD didn’t find it. The Asset wasn’t sure there was any difference between the two, no matter what the radio had said, but either way, it wanted to avoid the interrogation Stark’s words had promised.

The Asset ruminated on Romanoff and Stark. It thought maybe Romanoff had been a fellow asset, and Stark had been a technician. Or maybe Stark was a stranger and Romanov an enemy. The Asset couldn’t decide, couldn’t seem to settle on a conclusion.

Neither of them had been a handler. The Asset was sure of that. Hydra had burned the memories of past missions out of its head, but they had made sure the Asset’s ability to recognize its betters was crystal fucking clear.

The Asset’s head ached constantly. Sometimes the pain was just a mild inconvenience, and sometimes it was incapacitating. It wasn’t clear whether to the Asset whether its brain was healing, or just turning to mush. The Asset had been eating mostly from trash cans. Its memories were incomplete at best, but it was certain people didn’t used to throw away so much food. Bruised fruit, stale bread, half-eaten hamburgers. Finding enough to sustain itself hadn’t been difficult.

The hand’s fingers did not open or close. The Asset had opened the forearm access panel and ripped out whatever it could reach, knowing that one of the components was a tracker and unable to distinguish which one. It had felt like fire burning up through the arm and into the shoulder, radiating agony down its back and up its neck into its skull, before the nervous system feedback had, mercifully, shorted out. The Asset could still raise the arm and rotate it at the elbow and shoulder, but the wrist and hand joints were locked in place.

It took weeks for the Asset to form anything approaching a plan. Taking care of basic needs like thirst and hunger were instinctual enough that the Asset could do them on autopilot, but it was out of the habit of thinking for itself.

[[Heads to Brooklyn like a homing pigeon; has vague memories of safety and belonging there. When he arrives, wanders disconsolately looking for where he used to live (without knowing that’s what he’s looking for), but can’t find it. The closest he can find is an alley, where he tries to sleep.]]

The Asset had been asleep with its head on the backpack. Tactical error. One of the boys must have pulled the backpack out by its straps. Now the backpack was four feet away, at the largest boy’s feet.

The three boys had frozen when the Asset swung upright, but as seconds passed while the Asset did nothing but stand rigidly still, they relaxed.

“Woah, easy there,” one of them said. He took a few steps away and looked at the mouth of the alley, either checking for pursuers or scouting an escape route.

“Relax, he’s just a fucking junkie,” the largest boy said quietly. Then, louder, “What’s in the backpack, man? You gonna share?”

The boy crouched beside the backpack, reaching for the zipper.

The Asset could kill him so easily, even with one malfunctioning hand. The steps were as clear as a roadmap: immobilize shoulder, grasp head, twist, drop. It would take less than a second.

The thought made its stomach churn. The Asset held itself rigid, every muscle locked in place, afraid that moving would lead to another body at its feet.

“Hey!” A new boy, his hair startlingly bright in the gloom of the alley, charged forward from the alley’s other end. He stepped in between the Asset and the threat and puffed up like an angry goose. His baggy coat and overstuffed backpack made him appear larger than his thin legs suggested he was. “Leave him alone!”

“Alex,” the third boy muttered, tugging on the largest boy’s sleeve. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Alex shrugged the hand off. He was half a foot taller than the boy standing challengingly in front of him. “We were just talking. What’s it to you?”

“You need to leave,” the blond boy said, voice hard. “You can’t just take people’s stuff.”

“Fuck you, I’ll go when I want to,” Alex retorted. “And I want to see what’s in the backpack first.”

Alex reached for the backpack’s zipper, but the blond boy slapped his hand away before he could touch it.

Enraged, Alex drew back his fist.

The Asset moved.

Alex’s punch landed full force on the Asset’s metal arm, sending a ringing vibration through its shoulder. Alex howled and pulled his hand back to his chest.

“You fucking--”

“Come on, Alex!” the second boy shouted. The third was already running. Alex let himself be pulled out of the alley, and within seconds the Asset was alone with the blond boy.

On closer inspection, the boy wasn’t a boy at all. He was short, no more than five and a half feet, but his voice was deep and his face had no trace of baby fat. The Asset estimated the man was in his mid-twenties.

“Sorry you had to deal with those guys,” the man said. He took a few steps back, leaving the Asset standing over its backpack. “I know one of them, he’s not so bad, but his cousin is a total dick. Are you all right? That sounded like a pretty hard punch." The man reached out and ran both hands up the Asset's left arm. The Asset didn't allow itself to flinch away.

The man’s hands squeezed gently, paused, squeezed more firmly. "Wow, that's--" His eyes went wide and his hands dropped away from the arm. He held them spread at chest height for a moment, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have grabbed your arm without asking. That was not okay, geez."

The Asset had no idea what was going on, but the man seemed upset, which made it nervous. Things didn’t go well when people around the Asset were upset.

It slowly picked up the backpack. When the man didn't do anything but watch, the Asset settled the backpack straps over its shoulders, feeling more secure.

The man reached his pocket and the Asset tensed. It calculated the hang of the jacket and the size of the pocket bulge automatically; not heavy enough for a gun, but a knife could be small and light, or a taser--

He pulled out a rectangle wrapped in blue foil. "Are you hungry? I have an energy bar. It's, uh." He flipped the bar over and squinted in the dim light. "Blueberry lemon flavored. You want any?"

The man half-unwrapped the bar and handed it to the Asset. The Asset took it and bit, tentatively. It was chalky and sweet. Blueberry lemon, it thought, memorizing the taste.

“Not bad, right?" the man said. "That was my last one, sorry. Are you still hungry?"

The Asset knew better than to admit to a weakness, but the man seemed to know anyway. He just kept talking.

"I know a church near here that has food, usually, and a place to sleep if you don't mind waking up with the bells. We could go there now, if you want."

The Asset thought about this. It had to sleep somewhere, and evidently the alley wasn’t safe. The blond man wasn't a threat. If the church was a trap, the Asset could run.

The Asset nodded, and the man smiled.

"Great! It's a little over a mile, are you okay to walk that? Oh!" He smacked his forehead, making the Asset startle. "I forgot to introduce myself, sorry. My name's Steve."

SO THAT’S WHAT I GOT. I have about 14,000 more words of this story written, so either I’ll finish it and post it as a complete fic or I’ll officially give up and post it somewhere as a morgue file.

[calmgotmelike]

Hey guys! So this is something I wrote awhile ago and idk if y’all will like it but wanted to post it 😊 let me know what you think and/or if I should write more. If you have any questions about horse stuff feel free to message me! The cover page has all the horses on it! I’ll reboot with the order of which horse is which.

5sos x horses; Luke Hemmings x Nicole

Chapter​ ​1

The​ ​trailer​ ​door​ ​swung​ ​open​ ​and​ ​a​ ​beautiful​ ​chestnut​ ​warmblood​ ​backed​ ​out​ ​with​ ​his​ ​head​ ​held​ ​high​ ​and​ ​his​ ​tail brushing​ ​against​ ​his​ ​legs,as​ ​he​ ​swishes​ ​it​ ​back​ ​and​ ​forth.​ ​His​ ​name​ ​was​ ​etched​ ​on​ ​the​ ​silver​ ​plate​ ​attached​ ​to​ ​the cheek​ ​piece​ ​of​ ​his​ ​orange​ ​halter.​ ​The​ ​scripture​ ​was​ ​neat​ ​and​ ​straight,​ ​etched​ ​in​ ​all​ ​capital​ ​letters​ ​"CRASH"​ ​centered in​ ​the​ ​middle​ ​of​ ​the​ ​plate.​ ​Crash​ ​was​ ​a​ ​heck​ ​of​ ​a​ ​horse,​ ​strong​ ​and​ ​trained​ ​to​ ​the​ ​t.​ ​He​ ​excelled​ ​in​ ​everything​ ​he​ ​did. He​ ​won​ ​almost​ ​all​ ​the​ ​Jumper​ ​shows​ ​he​ ​entered​ ​and​ ​excelled​ ​in​ ​dressage.​ ​Crash​ ​was​ ​sent​ ​to​ ​my​ ​farm​ ​as​ ​a retirement​ ​home,​ ​even​ ​though​ ​he's​ ​only​ ​about​ ​6.​ ​His​ ​owner​ ​decided​ ​that​ ​he​ ​should​ ​retire​ ​from​ ​the​ ​show​ ​life​ ​and​ ​just be​ ​a​ ​normal​ ​horse​ ​so​ ​I​ ​bought​ ​him​ ​to​ ​teach​ ​people​ ​how​ ​to​ ​jump​ ​and​ ​use​ ​him​ ​as​ ​a​ ​beginner​ ​level​ ​show​ ​horse.​ ​I​ ​took Crash​ ​from​ ​the​ ​trailer​ ​hand​ ​and​ ​led​ ​him​ ​into​ ​the​ ​barn.

The​ ​barn​ ​had​ ​about​ ​12​ ​stalls​ ​with​ ​an​ ​attached​ ​indoor​ ​riding​ ​arena​ ​at​ ​the​ ​end.​ ​There​ ​were​ ​6​ ​sets​ ​of​ ​cross​ ​ties in​ ​the​ ​isle​ ​between​ ​the​ ​stalls.​ ​There​ ​was​ ​a​ ​room​ ​5​ ​stalls​ ​deep​ ​on​ ​the​ ​left​ ​that​ ​was​ ​filled​ ​with saddles,halters,leads,bridles,​ ​and​ ​everything​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​needed​ ​along​ ​with​ ​their​ ​food.All​ ​the​ ​stalls​ ​led​ ​out​ ​to​ ​long stretched​ ​out​ ​paddocks,​ ​leaving​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​plenty​ ​of​ ​room​ ​to​ ​run​ ​and​ ​graze.​ ​All​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​were​ ​outside​ ​in​ ​their pastures​ ​when​ ​we​ ​entered​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​and​ ​​ ​I​ ​brought​ ​Crash​ ​into​ ​the​ ​4the​ ​stall​ ​on​ ​the​ ​left.​ ​I​ ​released​ ​the​ ​lead​ ​from​ ​the place​ ​it​ ​was​ ​clipped​ ​on​ ​his​ ​halter,​ ​letting​ ​him​ ​loose​ ​in​ ​his​ ​stall.​ ​He​ ​instantly​ ​gulped​ ​up​ ​some​ ​water​ ​and​ ​moved​ ​to​ ​his hay​ ​with​ ​a​ ​wag​ ​of​ ​his​ ​tail.​ ​After​ ​waving​ ​off​ ​the​ ​trailer​ ​hand,​ ​i​ ​climbed​ ​up​ ​into​ ​the​ ​hay​ ​loft​ ​and​ ​pushed​ ​down​ ​8​ ​bales​ ​of hay,​ ​landing​ ​them​ ​right​ ​outside​ ​the​ ​front​ ​door​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn.

"Oy,Nicole!​ ​You​ ​almost​ ​crushed​ ​us​ ​there​ ​sweetheart."​ ​a​ ​thick​ ​Australian​ ​accent​ ​called​ ​from​ ​below.​ ​I​ ​smiled as​ ​i​ ​climbed​ ​down​ ​the​ ​ladder​ ​faced​ ​with​ ​4​ ​boys​ ​covered​ ​in​ ​hay.​ ​"Sorry​ ​guys!"​ ​I​ ​giggle​ ​as​ ​i​ ​grab​ ​each​ ​hay​ ​bail​ ​and quickly​ ​stack​ ​them​ ​in​ ​a​ ​4X4​ ​pile.​ ​"Haven't​ ​brought​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​in​ ​yet?"​ ​A​ ​voice​ ​asked​ ​form​ ​behind​ ​me.​ ​I​ ​turn​ ​around​ ​to face​ ​him.​ ​He​ ​is​ ​tall,​ ​about​ ​6'3",��� ​with​ ​bright​ ​blue​ ​eyes​ ​and​ ​blonde​ ​hair​ ​that​ ​was​ ​styled​ ​up​ ​into​ ​a​ ​quiff.​ ​"The​ ​new​ ​horse came​ ​just​ ​a​ ​few​ ​minutes​ ​ago,Lucas.I​ ​haven't​ ​had​ ​time."​ ​I​ ​smiled​ ​at​ ​him​ ​as​ ​i​ ​walked​ ​up​ ​to​ ​him​ ​and​ ​quickly​ ​kissed​ ​him on​ ​the​ ​lips.​ ​If​ ​you​ ​couldn't​ ​tell​ ​the​ ​blonde,tall​ ​boy​ ​is​ ​my​ ​boyfriend​ ​Luke.​ ​With​ ​him​ ​he​ ​brought​ ​his​ ​friends Ashton,Calum,and​ ​Michael.​ ​Ashton​ ​is​ ​tall​ ​but​ ​the​ ​shortest​ ​of​ ​the​ ​boys.​ ​he​ ​has​ ​curly​ ​brown​ ​hair​ ​with​ ​emerald​ ​green eyes​ ​and​ ​is​ ​always​ ​smiling.​ ​He​ ​wore​ ​a​ ​ripped​ ​up​ ​muscle​ ​tee​ ​and​ ​black​ ​skinny​ ​jean​ ​identical​ ​to​ ​the​ ​rest​ ​of​ ​the​ ​boys. Calum​ ​has​ ​black​ ​hair​ ​with​ ​a​ ​blond​ ​streak​ ​in​ ​his​ ​bangs​ ​that​ ​is​ ​swept​ ​off​ ​to​ ​the​ ​side​ ​just​ ​over​ ​his​ ​chocolate​ ​brown​ ​. Michael​ ​has​ ​a​ ​different​ ​hair​ ​color​ ​every​ ​time​ ​i​ ​see​ ​him,​ ​but​ ​today​ ​it​ ​was​ ​red​ ​and​ ​styled​ ​in​ ​a​ ​messy​ ​wind​ ​swept​ ​look hiding​ ​​ ​a​ ​little​ ​bit​ ​of​ ​his​ ​jade​ ​eyes​ ​from​ ​view.

"Do​ ​you​ ​guys​ ​wanna​ ​help​ ​me​ ​get​ ​them​ ​in?"​ ​i​ ​asked​ ​as​ ​i​ ​ran​ ​down​ ​to​ ​the​ ​end​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​entering​ ​the​ ​stalls and​ ​clipping​ ​the​ ​doors​ ​to​ ​the​ ​paddocks​ ​open​ ​and​ ​sliding​ ​the​ ​stall​ ​doors​ ​closed​ ​behind​ ​me.​ ​Ashton​ ​and​ ​Calum​ ​did​ ​the same​ ​as​ ​I​ ​saw​ ​Luke​ ​and​ ​Michael​ ​struggling​ ​to​ ​open​ ​a​ ​hay​ ​bail.​ ​"Um,Nicole​ ​do​ ​you​ ​have​ ​like​ ​a​ ​knife​ ​or​ ​something?" Michael​ ​yells​ ​to​ ​me​ ​as​ ​i​ ​meet​ ​Calum​ ​and​ ​Ashton​ ​by​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room,​ ​all​ ​the​ ​stalls​ ​ready​ ​for​ ​the​ ​horses.​ ​"You​ ​don't​ ​need one,Mike."​ ​i​ ​say​ ​as​ ​i​ ​walk​ ​over​ ​to​ ​them​ ​and​ ​take​ ​the​ ​baling​ ​twine​ ​and​ ​popping​ ​it​ ​off​ ​the​ ​hay.​ ​"Your​ ​girlfriends​ ​got​ ​some muscle,​ ​Luke"​ ​Michael​ ​nudges​ ​Luke​ ​in​ ​the​ ​arm​ ​as​ ​he​ ​watches​ ​me​ ​break​ ​open​ ​4​ ​more​ ​bales​ ​of​ ​hay.​ ​"It's​ ​because​ ​I've been​ ​opening​ ​hay​ ​bales​ ​for​ ​you​ ​for​ ​like​ ​3​ ​years."​ ​i​ ​turn​ ​around​ ​and​ ​look​ ​at​ ​Michael​ ​who​ ​is​ ​shocked​ ​for​ ​being​ ​called​ ​out on​ ​not​ ​be​ ​able​ ​to​ ​do​ ​it.​ ​The​ ​rest​ ​of​ ​the​ ​boys​ ​start​ ​laughing​ ​at​ ​Michaels​ ​lack​ ​of​ ​words​ ​and​ ​soon​ ​he​ ​joins​ ​in​ ​realizing​ ​i

was​ ​joking.Partially.​ ​The​ ​4​ ​boys​ ​helped​ ​me​ ​get​ ​hay​ ​in​ ​all​ ​the​ ​stall,​ ​Luke​ ​tossing​ ​a​ ​broken​ ​up​ ​bale​ ​over​ ​his​ ​shoulder and​ ​walking​ ​to​ ​the​ ​end​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn,​ ​throwing​ ​2​ ​flakes​ ​in​ ​each​ ​stall​ ​until​ ​he​ ​ran​ ​out.

As​ ​soon​ ​as​ ​the​ ​hay​ ​was​ ​in​ ​all​ ​the​ ​stalls,​ ​Calum​ ​turns​ ​to​ ​me​ ​and​ ​asks​ ​"can​ ​i​ ​do​ ​it​ ​this​ ​time?"​ ​I​ ​laugh​ ​as​ ​I​ ​nod my​ ​head​ ​and​ ​grab​ ​onto​ ​Luke's​ ​arm​ ​as​ ​he​ ​comes​ ​up​ ​next​ ​to​ ​me.​ ​Calum​ ​put​ ​his​ ​fingers​ ​in​ ​his​ ​mouth​ ​and​ ​whistled​ ​loud and​ ​long​ ​and​ ​there​ ​was​ ​a​ ​moment​ ​of​ ​silence​ ​throughout​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​then​ ​there​ ​was​ ​the​ ​sound​ ​of​ ​thundering​ ​hooves.​ ​All the​ ​horses​ ​came​ ​running​ ​in​ ​as​ ​we​ ​stood​ ​at​ ​the​ ​beginning​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​and​ ​watched​ ​as​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​started​ ​to​ ​nibble​ ​on their​ ​hay.​ ​In​ ​the​ ​stall​ ​to​ ​our​ ​left​ ​was​ ​Cam,​ ​a​ ​big​ ​chestnut​ ​suffolk​ ​punch.​ ​His​ ​coat​ ​glistened​ ​from​ ​the​ ​sunlight​ ​peeking​ ​in through​ ​the​ ​door​ ​behind​ ​him,​ ​making​ ​him​ ​look​ ​as​ ​if​ ​he​ ​was​ ​sparkling.​ ​On​ ​the​ ​Right​ ​side​ ​was​ ​Joe,​ ​a​ ​big​ ​black percheron​ ​with​ ​a​ ​huge​ ​head​ ​and​ ​body.​ ​His​ ​mane​ ​was​ ​perfectly​ ​straight​ ​and​ ​flopped​ ​to​ ​one​ ​side​ ​as​ ​he​ ​ate​ ​his​ ​hay. Beside​ ​Cam​ ​was​ ​my​ ​favorite​ ​horse,​ ​Baelfire.​ ​He​ ​is​ ​a​ ​beautiful​ ​bay​ ​Arabian​ ​with​ ​a​ ​beautiful​ ​white​ ​blaze​ ​going​ ​down​ ​his forehead​ ​and​ ​ending​ ​at​ ​the​ ​end​ ​of​ ​his​ ​nose.

Across​ ​from​ ​Baelfire​ ​was​ ​Jade.​ ​I​ ​have​ ​had​ ​Jade​ ​since​ ​she​ ​was​ ​a​ ​foal.I​ ​rescued​ ​her​ ​form​ ​an​ ​animal​ ​shelter after​ ​her​ ​mother​ ​passed​ ​away​ ​and​ ​needed​ ​constant​ ​care.​ ​​ ​There​ ​was​ ​about​ ​a​ ​month​ ​where​ ​i​ ​was​ ​sleeping​ ​in​ ​the​ ​barn with​ ​her​ ​,feeding​ ​her​ ​bottles​ ​every​ ​3​ ​hours.​ ​Now​ ​she​ ​was​ ​one​ ​of​ ​the​ ​best​ ​horses​ ​I've​ ​ever​ ​trained.​ ​Even​ ​though​ ​she​ ​is about​ ​7​ ​years​ ​old,​ ​she​ ​is​ ​trained​ ​to​ ​understand​ ​my​ ​vocal​ ​commands​ ​and​ ​i​ ​use​ ​her​ ​all​ ​the​ ​time​ ​to​ ​teach​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​kids how​ ​to​ ​ride.​ ​She​ ​is​ ​a​ ​beautiful​ ​white​ ​Warmblood​ ​mare​ ​and​ ​is​ ​one​ ​of​ ​the​ ​most​ ​beautiful​ ​horses​ ​I've​ ​ever​ ​seen.​ ​Next​ ​to Baelfire​ ​was​ ​Luke's​ ​horse,​ ​Coal.​ ​We​ ​had​ ​gotten​ ​him​ ​about​ ​a​ ​year​ ​and​ ​a​ ​half​ ​ago​ ​as​ ​a​ ​5​ ​year​ ​old​ ​and​ ​Luke​ ​instantly fell​ ​in​ ​love​ ​with​ ​him.​ ​Horses​ ​then​ ​turned​ ​into​ ​a​ ​passion​ ​for​ ​both​ ​of​ ​us.​ ​Luke​ ​worked​ ​hard​ ​with​ ​Coal​ ​to​ ​make​ ​him​ ​the excellent​ ​horse​ ​that​ ​he​ ​is​ ​today.​ ​Coal​ ​is​ ​absolutely​ ​spoiled​ ​too.​ ​Luke​ ​always​ ​sneaks​ ​down​ ​and​ ​gives​ ​him​ ​twizzlers​ ​and candy,​ ​which​ ​Coal​ ​loves​ ​and​ ​can​ ​now​ ​smell​ ​on​ ​anyone,​ ​even​ ​in​ ​your​ ​breath.​ ​Across​ ​from​ ​Coal​ ​​ ​​ ​is​ ​a​ ​horse​ ​named Klaus​ ​who​ ​is​ ​the​ ​biggest​ ​horse​ ​in​ ​the​ ​barn.​ ​He​ ​is​ ​a​ ​beautiful​ ​black​ ​and​ ​white​ ​shire​ ​with​ ​with​ ​fluffy​ ​white​ ​feathering​ ​on his​ ​jet​ ​black​ ​legs.​ ​​ ​He​ ​has​ ​a​ ​straight​ ​blaze​ ​running​ ​down​ ​the​ ​length​ ​of​ ​his​ ​face​ ​and​ ​ending​ ​right​ ​above​ ​his​ ​nose. Despite​ ​his​ ​big​ ​body,​ ​he's​ ​the​ ​sweetest​ ​horse​ ​and​ ​everyone​ ​who​ ​meets​ ​him​ ​instantly​ ​falls​ ​in​ ​love​ ​with​ ​him.​ ​Next​ ​to Klaus​ ​is​ ​Crash​ ​the​ ​warmblood​ ​that​ ​I​ ​received​ ​this​ ​morning.​ ​He​ ​was​ ​settling​ ​in​ ​nicely​ ​as​ ​he​ ​munched​ ​on​ ​his​ ​hay looking​ ​up​ ​and​ ​down​ ​the​ ​aisle​ ​at​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​around​ ​him.​ ​Across​ ​from​ ​Crash​ ​is​ ​Beck.​ ​Beck​ ​is​ ​a​ ​solid​ ​colored​ ​golden paint​ ​with​ ​a​ ​flaxen​ ​mane.Beck​ ​is​ ​sort​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​stud.​ ​He​ ​always​ ​has​ ​the​ ​2​ ​barn​ ​mares​ ​around​ ​him​ ​and​ ​he​ ​is​ ​always very​ ​possessive​ ​over​ ​them.​ ​The​ ​other​ ​horses​ ​let​ ​him​ ​think​ ​he's​ ​the​ ​boss​ ​but​ ​when​ ​he​ ​steps​ ​out​ ​of​ ​line​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​put him​ ​right​ ​back​ ​in​ ​his​ ​place.

Next​ ​to​ ​Beck​ ​is​ ​an​ ​empty​ ​stall​ ​at​ ​the​ ​moment.​ ​Across​ ​from​ ​the​ ​empty​ ​stall​ ​is​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room​ ​filled​ ​with​ ​saddles and​ ​bridles,along​ ​with​ ​brushes,first​ ​aid​ ​supplies,​ ​and​ ​a​ ​bunch​ ​of​ ​other​ ​horse​ ​necessities.​ ​Next​ ​to​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room​ ​is​ ​a chestnut​ ​warmblood​ ​gelding​ ​named​ ​King.​ ​He​ ​is​ ​the​ ​old​ ​guy​ ​on​ ​the​ ​farm​ ​at​ ​the​ ​age​ ​of​ ​24,which​ ​is​ ​just​ ​a​ ​number​ ​to him.​ ​King​ ​loves​ ​to​ ​run​ ​and​ ​he​ ​loves​ ​to​ ​act​ ​like​ ​a​ ​2​ ​year​ ​old​ ​and​ ​run​ ​around​ ​the​ ​paddocks​ ​with​ ​the​ ​young​ ​guns​ ​of​ ​the barn.​ ​We​ ​never​ ​count​ ​King​ ​out​ ​because​ ​of​ ​his​ ​age.​ ​His​ ​age​ ​just​ ​makes​ ​him​ ​more​ ​experienced.​ ​Across​ ​from​ ​King​ ​is the​ ​other​ ​barn​ ​mare​ ​Aussie​ ​who​ ​is​ ​an​ ​Australian​ ​Stock​ ​horse.​ ​She​ ​is​ ​a​ ​beautiful​ ​dark​ ​bay​ ​with​ ​light​ ​points​ ​and​ ​legs. Aussie​ ​is​ ​a​ ​great​ ​trail​ ​horse​ ​and​ ​has​ ​received​ ​many​ ​ribbons​ ​in​ ​reining​ ​and​ ​barrel​ ​racing.​ ​I​ ​still​ ​take​ ​her​ ​to​ ​shows​ ​every once​ ​in​ ​a​ ​while​ ​but​ ​here​ ​new​ ​favorite​ ​thing​ ​to​ ​do​ ​is​ ​to​ ​go​ ​swimming​ ​in​ ​the​ ​lake​ ​down​ ​one​ ​of​ ​the​ ​trails.​ ​Next​ ​to​ ​Aussie is​ ​one​ ​of​ ​my​ ​favorite​ ​horses,​ ​Dino.​ ​Dino​ ​is​ ​an​ ​18​ ​hand​ ​giant​ ​Warmblood​ ​and​ ​is​ ​ever​ ​pound​ ​of​ ​2,000lbs.​ ​Dino​ ​is​ ​a​ ​dark bay​ ​with​ ​light​ ​dapples​ ​on​ ​his​ ​rear​ ​and​ ​white​ ​socks​ ​on​ ​his​ ​two​ ​front​ ​legs.​ ​Across​ ​from​ ​Dino​ ​is​ ​a​ ​small​ ​Paint​ ​named Mason​ ​who​ ​is​ ​very​ ​vibrant​ ​red​ ​paint​ ​with​ ​one​ ​brown​ ​eye​ ​and​ ​one​ ​blue​ ​eye.​ ​Mason​ ​is​ ​The​ ​youngest​ ​horse​ ​that​ ​i​ ​have at​ ​just​ ​about​ ​3​ ​years​ ​old.​ ​He​ ​is​ ​ridable,​ ​but​ ​is​ ​very​ ​green​ ​and​ ​needs​ ​a​ ​lot​ ​of​ ​help.​ ​Every​ ​one​ ​of​ ​these​ ​horses​ ​holds​ ​a special​ ​place​ ​in​ ​my​ ​heart​ ​and​ ​they​ ​are​ ​all​ ​family​ ​to​ ​Luke​ ​and​ ​I.

"So​ ​you​ ​guys​ ​ready​ ​to​ ​go​ ​now?"​ ​I​ ​ask​ ​as​ ​I​ ​enter​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room​ ​walking​ ​down​ ​the​ ​line​ ​of​ ​bridles​ ​hooked​ ​to​ ​the wall​ ​and​ ​grabbing​ ​the​ ​black​ ​leather​ ​bridle​ ​with​ ​a​ ​snaffle​ ​bit​ ​on​ ​it​ ​and​ ​a​ ​silver​ ​tag​ ​on​ ​the​ ​brow​ ​band​ ​reading​ ​"Baelfire".​ ​I then​ ​grab​ ​my​ ​saddle​ ​from​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​rack​ ​to​ ​the​ ​left​ ​of​ ​all​ ​the​ ​bridles,​ ​along​ ​with​ ​a​ ​saddle​ ​pad​ ​and​ ​girth.​ ​"Ash​ ​here has​ ​never​ ​ridden​ ​a​ ​horse,​ ​Nicole"​ ​Michael​ ​says​ ​as​ ​he​ ​grabs​ ​Ashton's​ ​shoulders​ ​and​ ​pushes​ ​him​ ​a​ ​little.​ ​"​ ​He​ ​can​ ​ride Jade!​ ​Where​ ​did​ ​Luke​ ​go,​ ​he​ ​can​ ​help"​ ​I​ ​ask​ ​Michael​ ​as​ ​Luke​ ​is​ ​no​ ​where​ ​to​ ​be​ ​found.​ ​As​ ​if​ ​on​ ​queue,​ ​Luke​ ​comes out​ ​of​ ​one​ ​of​ ​the​ ​stalls​ ​and​ ​starts​ ​walking​ ​towards​ ​us.​ ​"Well​ ​i​ ​was​ ​tacking​ ​up​ ​Coal​ ​cause​ ​i​ ​had​ ​a​ ​feeling​ ​you​ ​were gonna​ ​ask​ ​me​ ​to​ ​help​ ​Ash."​ ​Luke​ ​announces​ ​as​ ​he​ ​comes​ ​up​ ​next​ ​to​ ​me​ ​with​ ​all​ ​my​ ​tack​ ​in​ ​my​ ​arm​ ​and​ ​grabs​ ​my saddle​ ​and​ ​places​ ​it​ ​on​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​rack​ ​near​ ​Baelfires​ ​stall.​ ​"​ ​Thank​ ​you,​ ​Baby."​ ​i​ ​say​ ​as​ ​walk​ ​up​ ​to​ ​where​ ​he​ ​was with​ ​my​ ​saddle​ ​and​ ​i​ ​attached​ ​my​ ​lips​ ​to​ ​his.​ ​At​ ​first​ ​it​ ​was​ ​a​ ​soft​ ​kiss​ ​but​ ​then​ ​it​ ​grew​ ​into​ ​more​ ​of​ ​a​ ​kiss.I​ ​started​ ​to

Laugh​ ​into​ ​the​ ​kiss​ ​as​ ​Baelfire​ ​reached​ ​his​ ​head​ ​out​ ​of​ ​the​ ​stall​ ​and​ ​grabbed​ ​Luke​ ​by​ ​his​ ​t-shirt.​ ​Luke​ ​pulled​ ​away from​ ​the​ ​kiss​ ​feeling​ ​the​ ​pressure​ ​of​ ​Baelfire​ ​pulling​ ​on​ ​him​ ​and​ ​once​ ​he​ ​got​ ​his​ ​shirt​ ​free,​ ​he​ ​said​ ​"I​ ​guess​ ​i​ ​have some​ ​competition,​ ​Hey​ ​Baelfire."​ ​Luke​ ​giggled​ ​as​ ​he​ ​scratched​ ​Baelfires​ ​head​ ​and​ ​started​ ​walking​ ​towards​ ​the​ ​tack room.​ ​"What​ ​do​ ​you​ ​want​ ​Jade​ ​in,Nicole?"​ ​Luke​ ​yells​ ​over​ ​his​ ​shoulder​ ​as​ ​he​ ​enters​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room.​ ​"​ ​Throw​ ​her​ ​in​ ​the kimberwick​ ​and​ ​use​ ​Mason's​ ​saddle."​ ​I​ ​yell​ ​as​ ​I​ ​get​ ​a​ ​halter​ ​on​ ​Baelfire​ ​and​ ​pull​ ​him​ ​into​ ​the​ ​aisle,​ ​attaching​ ​him​ ​to the​ ​cross​ ​ties.​ ​"What​ ​the​ ​heck​ ​did​ ​you​ ​just​ ​say?"​ ​Ashton​ ​giggled​ ​as​ ​he​ ​looked​ ​at​ ​me​ ​like​ ​i​ ​had​ ​3​ ​heads.​ ​"It's​ ​the​ ​tack Ash.​ ​Luke​ ​will​ ​show​ ​you."​ ​I​ ​laugh​ ​as​ ​i​ ​return​ ​to​ ​Baelfire​ ​and​ ​start​ ​brushing​ ​him​ ​off.​ ​Calum​ ​and​ ​Michael​ ​come​ ​out​ ​of​ ​the tack​ ​room​ ​with​ ​tack​ ​and​ ​place​ ​them​ ​on​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​racks​ ​that​ ​are​ ​on​ ​the​ ​wall​ ​down​ ​the​ ​aisles.​ ​"Are​ ​you​ ​guys​ ​taking Beck​ ​and​ ​Dino?"​ ​I​ ​ask​ ​as​ ​the​ ​walk​ ​down​ ​to​ ​the​ ​end​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​and​ ​into​ ​stalls.​ ​"Yes,Nicole.​ ​Is​ ​that​ ​a​ ​problem?"​ ​Calum sasses​ ​as​ ​he​ ​gives​ ​me​ ​a​ ​grin​ ​and​ ​enters​ ​Dino's​ ​stall.​ ​"​ ​I​ ​laugh​ ​and​ ​continue​ ​brushing.

​ ​Luke​ ​comes​ ​out​ ​of​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room​ ​with​ ​Ashton​ ​in​ ​toe​ ​and​ ​sets​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​down​ ​on​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​rack​ ​with​ ​a​ ​Purple saddle​ ​pad.​ ​I​ ​put​ ​Baelfire's​ ​light​ ​blue​ ​saddle​ ​pad​ ​on​ ​his​ ​back​ ​along​ ​with​ ​the​ ​saddle.​ ​I​ ​then​ ​attached​ ​the​ ​girth​ ​and tightened​ ​it​ ​on​ ​both​ ​sides.​ ​I​ ​unclipped​ ​Baelfire​ ​from​ ​the​ ​cross​ ​ties​ ​and​ ​slip​ ​the​ ​reins​ ​over​ ​his​ ​head​ ​and​ ​slide​ ​off​ ​his halter.​ ​I​ ​slowly​ ​push​ ​the​ ​bit​ ​in​ ​his​ ​mouth​ ​and​ ​pull​ ​the​ ​crown​ ​piece​ ​over​ ​his​ ​ears​ ​and​ ​adjusted​ ​the​ ​nose​ ​band​ ​and​ ​throat latch.​ ​I​ ​left​ ​the​ ​reins​ ​over​ ​his​ ​neck​ ​and​ ​just​ ​let​ ​him​ ​stand​ ​there​ ​as​ ​I​ ​put​ ​on​ ​his​ ​light​ ​blue​ ​splint​ ​boots.​ ​Once​ ​I​ ​was​ ​all tacked​ ​up.​ ​I​ ​looked​ ​behind​ ​me​ ​to​ ​see​ ​everyone​ ​tacked​ ​but​ ​Ashton.​ ​"Whats​ ​the​ ​hold​ ​up​ ​Luke?"​ ​I​ ​ask​ ​as​ ​i​ ​come​ ​up​ ​to Jade's​ ​side.​ ​"Umm,​ ​well​ ​i​ ​can't​ ​find​ ​her​ ​girth"​ ​He​ ​says​ ​as​ ​he​ ​scratches​ ​the​ ​back​ ​of​ ​his​ ​neck​ ​and​ ​looks​ ​around​ ​the​ ​tack room.​ ​I​ ​go​ ​in​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room​ ​and​ ​look​ ​under​ ​some​ ​of​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​racks​ ​and​ ​find​ ​the​ ​girth​ ​we​ ​were​ ​looking​ ​for​ ​under​ ​one. It​ ​must​ ​have​ ​fallen​ ​while​ ​we​ ​were​ ​moving​ ​all​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​around.​ ​I​ ​exit​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room​ ​and​ ​hand​ ​Luke​ ​the​ ​girth​ ​as​ ​he hands​ ​it​ ​to​ ​Ashton,​ ​he​ ​instructs​ ​him​ ​on​ ​how​ ​to​ ​put​ ​it​ ​on.​ ​"Ok.​ ​Ash​ ​so​ ​you​ ​buckle​ ​it​ ​like​ ​a​ ​belt​ ​and​ ​then​ ​you​ ​go​ ​to​ ​the other​ ​side​ ​and​ ​tighten​ ​it​ ​a​ ​bit."​ ​Ashton​ ​does​ ​the​ ​girth​ ​no​ ​problem​ ​and​ ​then​ ​picks​ ​up​ ​the​ ​bridle​ ​from​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​rack​ ​and moves​ ​to​ ​her​ ​head​ ​and​ ​unclips​ ​her​ ​from​ ​the​ ​cross​ ​ties​ ​and​ ​bridles​ ​her.​ ​After​ ​he​ ​is​ ​done​ ​bridling​ ​Jade,​ ​He​ ​puts​ ​on​ ​her purple​ ​splint​ ​boots​ ​and​ ​she​ ​is​ ​all​ ​set​ ​to​ ​go.

We​ ​all​ ​went​ ​outside​ ​with​ ​our​ ​horses​ ​in​ ​one​ ​hand​ ​and​ ​a​ ​helmet​ ​in​ ​the​ ​other.​ ​Michael​ ​led​ ​Beck​ ​out​ ​in​ ​his​ ​dark green​ ​saddle​ ​pad​ ​and​ ​splints​ ​which​ ​contrasted​ ​perfectly​ ​with​ ​his​ ​light​ ​coat​ ​color.​ ​Calum​ ​came​ ​out​ ​next​ ​with​ ​Dino​ ​in​ ​a Teal​ ​saddle​ ​pad​ ​and​ ​white​ ​splint​ ​boots,​ ​not​ ​matching​ ​the​ ​teal​ ​because​ ​we​ ​couldn't​ ​find​ ​teal​ ​splints​ ​in​ ​his​ ​size.​ ​​ ​Finally Ashton​ ​and​ ​Luke​ ​come​ ​out​ ​with​ ​Jade​ ​and​ ​Coal​ ​and​ ​join​ ​us​ ​in​ ​the​ ​little​ ​field​ ​in​ ​front​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn.​ ​Luke​ ​put​ ​Coal​ ​is​ ​a​ ​bark blue​ ​saddle​ ​pad​ ​and​ ​splints,​ ​which​ ​kinda​ ​matched​ ​with​ ​Baelfire​ ​and​ ​I.​ ​Luke,Calum,and​ ​Michael​ ​all​ ​hop​ ​on​ ​their​ ​horses and​ ​put​ ​their​ ​helmets​ ​on.​ ​I​ ​tie​ ​up​ ​Baelfires​ ​reins​ ​and​ ​let​ ​him​ ​nibble​ ​on​ ​some​ ​grass​ ​and​ ​walk​ ​over​ ​to​ ​Ashton​ ​to​ ​help​ ​him get​ ​on.​ ​I​ ​walk​ ​over​ ​to​ ​Jade​ ​and​ ​tighten​ ​her​ ​girth​ ​and​ ​roll​ ​down​ ​her​ ​stirrups.​ ​"Ok​ ​Ash​ ​so​ ​all​ ​you​ ​have​ ​to​ ​do​ ​is​ ​put​ ​your foot​ ​in​ ​the​ ​stirrup​ ​and​ ​pull​ ​your​ ​self​ ​up​ ​into​ ​the​ ​saddle."​ ​I​ ​instructed​ ​as​ ​I​ ​held​ ​on​ ​to​ ​the​ ​stirrup​ ​on​ ​the​ ​right​ ​side​ ​of​ ​the saddle​ ​while​ ​Ashton​ ​was​ ​on​ ​the​ ​left​ ​side.​ ​Ashton​ ​put​ ​his​ ​foot​ ​on​ ​the​ ​stirrup​ ​and​ ​pulled​ ​himself​ ​up​ ​into​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​like he​ ​had​ ​been​ ​doing​ ​it​ ​for​ ​years.​ ​"We​ ​have​ ​a​ ​natural​ ​here​ ​boys"​ ​Calum​ ​says​ ​as​ ​he​ ​drops​ ​his​ ​reins​ ​and​ ​puts​ ​his​ ​hands up​ ​in​ ​the​ ​air​ ​celebrating​ ​that​ ​Ashton​ ​got​ ​on.​ ​I​ ​adjusted​ ​his​ ​stirrups​ ​for​ ​him​ ​as​ ​well​ ​as​ ​tightening​ ​his​ ​girth​ ​one​ ​last​ ​time and​ ​then​ ​walked​ ​back​ ​over​ ​to​ ​Baelfire.​ ​I​ ​untied​ ​his​ ​reins​ ​and​ ​jumped​ ​on​ ​his​ ​back,​ ​clipping​ ​my​ ​helmet​ ​in​ ​place​ ​before​ ​i adjusted​ ​my​ ​girth​ ​and​ ​stirrups.

When​ ​I​ ​was​ ​finished,​ ​I​ ​asked​ ​"Are​ ​you​ ​ready​ ​boys?"​ ​with​ ​a​ ​nod​ ​from​ ​all​ ​4​ ​boys​ ​we​ ​start​ ​heading​ ​on​ ​the​ ​trail.​ ​I gave​ ​Ashton​ ​a​ ​quick​ ​run​ ​down​ ​on​ ​how​ ​to​ ​ride,​ ​"Ok​ ​Ashton​ ​so​ ​kicking​ ​her​ ​will​ ​make​ ​her​ ​go​ ​forward​ ​and​ ​kicking​ ​her more​ ​after​ ​shes​ ​moving​ ​will​ ​make​ ​her​ ​go​ ​faster.​ ​if​ ​you​ ​want​ ​her​ ​to​ ​stop​ ​pull​ ​on​ ​the​ ​reins.​ ​If​ ​you​ ​want​ ​here​ ​to​ ​turn​ ​pull gently​ ​on​ ​the​ ​rein​ ​in​ ​the​ ​direction​ ​you​ ​want​ ​to​ ​go.​ ​Don't​ ​worry​ ​if​ ​you​ ​have​ ​a​ ​hard​ ​time,​ ​Jade​ ​knows​ ​commands​ ​so​ ​just tell​ ​her​ ​what​ ​too​ ​do.​ ​Got​ ​it?"​ ​I​ ​ask​ ​riding​ ​up​ ​to​ ​Ashton's​ ​side.​ ​He​ ​nods​ ​and​ ​gives​ ​Jade​ ​a​ ​gentle​ ​kick​ ​and​ ​we​ ​were​ ​on our​ ​way.

[friendlytrees]

Sweet Dreams

Clint BartonXreader!

Summary: Clint has been having many strange dreams lately and they all involve the same girl. On "open house" day for the avengers to recruit new ones, he sees the girl from his dreams.

Word count: 3.6k

•multiple avengers placed into the story and made up characters

Warnings: slight profanity, the tiniest bit of smut, angst.

Destroyed buildings, dead bodies of fallen soldiers, and her. She would always be there in his dreams, it's like she is the angel of death. Every night Clint Barton goes to bed his vivid dreams begin to take their course. They always end in one way, Clint dying or getting critically injured. The girl however, she is the one hurting him. Crushing him with an object, blasting him from afar, and slicing his neck, and more. After he died she would walk up to him say something but he couldn't make out the words.

"I think he's having another one of his dreams" Nat says holding a cup of coffee watching over Clint

"aren't you gonna wake him up? I don't think watching him is the best idea" wanda says with a concerned look "I could give him a happy dream, just say the magic words" she says as she waves her hands

Nat takes a long pause as she collects her thoughts. "Ok, you can give him a good dream as long as im in it" she says with a smile

Wanda nods her head and proceeded to give Clint the dream he deserves instead of him having a nightmare.

It's morning, Clint opens his eyes confused. He sits up and sits at the edge of the bed stretching his arms. He gets up and goes to grab his toothbrush from the bathroom before he is interrupted by nat standing in the doorway

"so how did you sleep"

"I slept pretty good surprisingly, it's been a while since I've had such a good dream" he says as he puts toothpaste on his toothbrush and begins to brush his teeth.

As he brushes he then realizes that it was open house day and his room was an absolute shit show. He takes an hour to clean before getting dressed and going to meet everyone in the kitchen.

When he walks down stairs he can see everyone looking very tired and staring at him angrily. All of them holding pillows

"Barton, you need to learn to control yourself!" Lang says as he throws his pillow at Clint only missing him by an jnch

"what did I do??! I didn't have another nightmare did I??"

"oh it DEFINITELY wasn't a nightmare" tony says scoffing at barton "do you know how loud you were? we could hear you from outside, no OUTER SPACE." tony then stands up and goes in front of Clint and begins to talk quieter "Barton, buddy look, I understand you have your little sexual fantasies and whatever but you need to keep it down so the rest of us can sleep" tony then Pat's his shoulder and walks away

"fantasies? What fantasies?"

he then remembers a very vivid part of his dream where he has sex with ... Nat. He wasn't grossed out by the idea but he wasn't happy with it either. He then heads over to Natasha who is drinking a cup of coffee.

"did you know?"

"did I know what?" She says with a smirk

"you totally did know! That's why you asked about my dream!" He says laughing

"I had Wanda help you out with your dreams and she helped you out a little too much"

They share a few laughs before getting stopped by Steve he called a group meeting. All the avengers, even Peter Parker, head over to sit down at the table or stand around it to listen to what Cap has to say

"alright guys, so today is the open house and I just wanted to make sure everyone was prepared to meet potential avengers. There are a few rules I made so nothing gets out of hand while they are here" he hands out little pamphlets saying 'welcome!' on the front to hand to the potentials. "When the potentials get here I am going to pair you up with one of them and then you give them the pamphlet. Is that clear? Do I have to explain anything else"

Peter raises his hand

"yes Peter"

"so,,, I can get a partner too?"

"no actually you will be greeting everyone at the door and sadly I'll be showing some moves to the potentials and I need your help"

"um sir why is that sad?"

"because I'm going to kick your ass,, anyway with that being said I dismiss you all, the potentials will be here shortly"

Peter stands there with a worried look on his face before being dragged out by Sam and bucky telling him not to worry.

Clint stands in the training room with the other avenges all lined up and turned to face the door to get partnered up. A long black limo then arrives and tons of potentials come piling out and start heading to the door being held open by spidey, in his suit of course.

"welcome! potentials, this is the new HQ for the avengers and you have all been chosen to 'test your might' in the training room. And if you make it past the first cut you'll have a simulated mission and the 2 best potentials shall train with us for a while and join the team!" Cap says with a big grin

"now I'm going to have you pull a random number out this bin and that's your partner"

Clint can see each potential grabbing a piece of paper hoping the person he gets is cool.

He then sees a girl, she seems very familiar but he can't pin point why. She starts to walk over into the room asking everyone what number they have.

"over here!" Nat says waving her hand to the girl "lucky you, you have the best person in the room"

The girl laughs and it makes Clint feel uneasy and when he hears her speak he can almost remember where he has seen her

"hi I'm y/n, do I have to disclose any special abilities I have to you?"

"oh here I almost forgot" Nat hands her the pamphlet cap made "these are all of the rules you need to follow and information you need" she smiles "and yes it would be important to know of your abilities"

"in that case I am able to manipulate the air and turn it into any solid object I want and manipulate the mind"

And with that being said Clint stares widely at the ground and looks up at y/n. she catches him staring and he quickly averts his eyes to a blue kree potential walking towards him.

"hi I'm Erik, do you have a pamphlet for me?"

"oh here you go" he hands him the pamphlet and begins to tell him some of the rules while glancing at y/n every few seconds

Cap then goes up front with Peter to show the potentials some new moves. Steve did great of course peter, not so much.

"it's now your time to train with the potentials, have fun, don't go to Easy on them" he says walking out with Peter limping

Clint goes to look over at Erik and signals him to get into fighting position but he seems confused.

"come on kid get in position" Clint says laughing

"oh" Erik says as he gets in a stance that looks like he is getting ready to do a squat

"no kid look, here is what you do. You put your arms up like you're gonna throw a punch and put one leg back and bend your knees"

The kid repositions himself and then looks up to smile at him. Clint can already tell this kid is gonna need alot of work.

An hour or 2 goes by and the next part of open house is to bond with your potential, so Clint and Erik went into a living room area and talked for a bit.

"I am very excited to become an avenger, it's been my dream since forever"

"oh I forgot to ask, what powers do you have?"

"I can speak to people in their head as long as I've seen them"

"so, you're telepathic?"

"yes, haha my parents, who are kree, came here and had to disguise themselves to blend in. We don't go out much. But yes my parents were so confused on how I got these powers they had me-"

Clint kind of just nods his head listening to the potential speak most of the time explaining how he grew up on Earth and seeing avengers saving the world and blah blah blah. All Clint was worried about was y/n. He couldn't get her out of his head, literally. His best bet was to just ask Erik about her.

"hey uhh, do you know anything about that girl over there" he then points to y/n chatting it up with Natasha

"ahh yes, y/n" he takes a bit of a pause "she can be a bit of a handful. Um, she grew in a rough life her parents were mutants in xmen but they went rogue and we're shot with multiple arrows and died so she actually grew up with me. She doesn't like telling people though so don't bring it up"

"yeah thanks for that,, but does she do anything to your dreams"

"oh all the time. She loves to give me nightmares and when I wake up she would just lay in the bed next to me laughing"

Clint didn't say anything and he kind of just glared at y/n until she made eye contact with him. He didn't turn away. The look on her face was filled with a bit of terror but also relief. Like she didn't have to hide anything anymore. Then Nat came over to us.

"hey guys have you met my amazing potential y/n" she said excited

"no I haven't" he stood up "my name is Clint Barton, nice to meet you" he held out his hand to shake hers

She shook his hand and smiled slightly with a nervous look on her face

Steve Rogers then came in to assign all the potentials rooms that made the cut in the training room

" as I watched you all fight through the cameras and in person, me and another person have voted on who stays and who goes. Out of the 15 that showed up, only 7 made the cut. All the names I call are safe. Natasha, Scott Lang, Tony, Thor, Rhodey, Sam, and Clint. Alright now everyone that made it follow me and everyone else, thank you for coming and always keep working hard, tony will see you out."

And with that Steve walked off with the potentials and Clint was left with nat.

"that girl you're partnered with is the one giving me nightmares"

Natasha then looks over at Clint with her eyes widened and a confused look on her face "excuse me what"

Clint then nods his head while Nat is trying to comprehend the situation.

"how is she giving you nightmares she hasn't even seen you before. Want me to get her kicked out"

"no no don't do anything, I'll talk to her myself"

after that conversation he headed back to his room to get ready for bed.

As he closed his eyes the nightmare soon took place. He was in an abandoned building with skeletons and dead avengers everywhere. He can hear footsteps coming towards him, it was her. She came closer and closer until she was close enough to grab his neck.

"why did you do it. Why did you kill them" she says as she looks like she is going to cry.

"i had to" he says as he struggles to get loose from y/n

"that's the wrong answer" she grips tighter and tighter

Nat would give him tips on how to wake himself up during a bad dream because they would scare her sometimes and she can't watch him 24/7, so he thought it was the time to try it. It worked.

He popped up out of bed gripping y/ns neck then he eventually let go once he saw her tear up. After he let go he sat down on his bed looking at her catch her breath.

"why. Why hunt me down, try out for the avengers and kill me."

"you killed my parents" she says still gripping her neck

Clint kind of laughs at her comment and then goes back to having a Stern look on his face "are you serious? Do you know who your parents are?"

Y/n stands there in silence looking at Clint then at the ground not knowing what to say "you took them away from me"

"if they loved you, they wouldn't have given you such a hard life." He paused and looked at the ground " your parents, yes they were in heros but they found their way to hydra. They thought he was the best bet for the world. They killed and tortured so many people y/n. I had to kill them"

He can hear her beginning to cry and he doesn't really know what to do. Was he really going to comfort the girl that tried to kill him 10 minutes ago? Yeah

"look just sit next to me, we can talk this out"

She slowly walked over to sit on the edge of the bed with him. She then hugged him and started bawling her eyes out on his chest. She noticed how firm it was and how built he was. But all he could think about is trying to get her to stop the nightmares.

After y/n cried she looked up at Clint, they stared at each other for a while

She then leaned in for a kiss

"what are you doing" Clint says as he breaks the kiss

Y/n looks at him teary eyed and covers her mouth thinking about how much she wanted to take it back

"im- I'm so sorry. I should go I shouldn't even be in here right now. I'm so sorry" she gets up and tries to walk out the room before Clint grabs her arm. "No you don't have to go, I was just caught off guard. First you try to kill me and then kiss me. So much happened in those few minutes and I just needed to process"

She nods telling him she understands. As they both stand in the middle of his room they look at the floor until y/n goes in for a hug. It was comforting and warm to let Clint know she was ok. It lasted a while.

"so,,, about my dreams" he whispers in her ear "

"don't worry, it won't happen anymore"

She then smiles at Clint and heads out the room

Clint's wakes up bright and early thanks to cap bursting into his room with Tony to wake him up for the simulated mission with Erik. Clint heads out the door heading to the simulation room.

when he gets there Erik is already there waiting for him.

"hey Clint! I've been practicing hard all night I can't wait to work with you"

"don't get too excited"

Erik had a dazed and confused look on his face from bartons comment.

Soon enough all the team members gathered in front of simulation room. Each team would go in one by one doing a battle again some sort of villain. Steve had taught them about all the villains yesterday when he showed them to their rooms.

"all right now this is the last test you will have to see if you make it into the avengers. Last night I gave you a folder of a villain and their weakness. The villains I gave you are going to be. Good luck"

"first up is Lang's potential" tony says

Scott sends his potential in there and he did not so good. He just about got his ass beat. After him it was Clint's turn. He sends the blue boy in there and waits to see what villain he gets. It's Ronan. Of course Steve would give him a villain the same race he was.

As Clint watched he noticed that Erik's form was better but Ronan taunted him like he does everyone.

"I killed many of our kind, join me, join me in killing off the rest of us, like your dear parents"

"shut up!" He ran at Ronan trying to dodge his attacks. He was hit a few times but he kept going. It was about 20-30 min fight before cap ended it.

Up next was Rhodey, then tony, then Sam, Thor and finally it was Nat. Clint had been waiting to see y/n fight Because he had high hopes for her. She stepped in and when Steve started the simulation, Ultron was her villain. Clint and Erik could see the fear in her face.

"hello sweet girl, I knew your parents. their lives were so boring without me so I took them, we became so strong. Too bad they died, well not really they started getting soft on me."

Her eyes watered but she didn't let him get to her, she fought and fought up until the 30 min mark then Steve had to end it.

"Hey, good job in there" Clint said as she walked out. She thanked him and quickly rushed to the bathroom

Steve then reviews everyone's scores on their simulation and makes an announcement. "Ok everyone can I have your attention. I have added up the highest scores and the names I say will be safe. Before I say them I just want to say it was great working with everyone and we appreciate you trying out. Ok so the two people are, Erik and y/n! Congratulations you two are now official avengers."

Everyone clapped and cheered and the losing potentials were shown out by their teammate.

After everyone left Clint was exhausted, even though he did nothing, so he went to his room to shower and sleep. He got out the shower and was soon interupted by y/n entering his room

"omg I'm so sorry I didn't know you only had a towel on" she said covering her eyes

"it's fine, but can you turn around so I can get dressed"

She nodded and she heard him drop his towel. She was very tempted to look, so she did and all she caught was a glimpse of his butt as he pulled up his boxers.

He turns around and sees her looking "how long have you been staring!" He walks up to her as she laughs "only a few seconds I swear" when she stops laughing she realizes he's shirtless and blushes a little but Clint didn't see.

After the laughter dies down Clint asks y/n why she is in his room

"oh I just wanted to say thank you again for saying I did good in the simulation room" he smiles and says no problem. There is then more silence while they both stand in the middle of the room.

"is that all?" He says

She stares at him and looks at him for a moment

The next thing you know y/n pressed her lips against Clint's once again, this time he doesn't pull away. y/n rubs her fingers through clints slightly damp hair as she locks lips with the marksman. His hand is around her waist, massaging her back as they continue the passionate kiss. Clint begins to get more into the kiss and pushes y/n against the wall then gripping on her ass slightly. Her hands are on his back almost digging into his skin. He soon signals to take off her shirt revealing her lacey bra. She then wrapped her legs around Clint and he carried her to his bed, laying her down so he is able to take off her jeans. He then goes back to her soft bruised lips, then her neck, stomach and when he was making his way further down she she stopped him

"what's wrong" he says eager to continue

"nothing, it's just,,, I think we should wait to do this. Maybe go on an actual date first." She said as she hoped she didn't kill the mood

"I understand, we can wait." He moves up and goes back to her lips to give her one final kiss "so are you sleeping in here" y/n then nods and he goes to his closet and grabs an large shirt for her to wear to bed.

The two then lay there under the covers, Clint holding her in his arms "goodnight" he says to her kissing her forehead. Y/n then says "Sweet dreams" as she kisses his cheek.

[dddddwwwwwwwwww]

Hey I saw your analysis on why John might have been closeted even with loving queer friends and I think your reasoning is the only thing I've seen that actually makes sense!! Everyone else seems to rely on "john obviously has internalized homophobia due to his upbringing or surroundings" but obvs that's not the case... have you thought at all about how meeting and interacting with dad Crocker might affect john?

started out meta then I gave up and ficced it. I hope you get what I’m spinning here. This hasn’t really been proofread, it was a quickie because I just wanted to get the feelings in cyber-ink.

John disappeared shortly after the cake was cut. Jane and Roxy flew their new mutual wife to the top of a ten-foot tiered cake to slice the inaugural piece and he was standing next to me, then as press and party-goers surged forward in a mad rush for sugar he slipped away. I felt the tail end of a cold breeze flit from the crowd and I only barely caught the direction it flew in as it disappeared. John wasn’t a subtle guy, I could tell something was off at the beginning of the ceremony. The biggest surprise was that it took him this long to escape.

This left me with a dilemma. Go chase my date into the hall, or stay out here until he was ready to rejoin the party. I wondered for a half-second if maybe he didn’t want to be followed, but that line of thought was quickly discarded. John was a straightforward guy about everything but his feelings, he wasn’t the type to play passive aggressive games. Or, he was, but not this particular type of passive aggressive game.

I turned in the direction I’d felt the wisp of air fly and I closed my eyes to concentrate. This was a ridiculously huge wedding. I guess 3 creators getting married was kind of a big deal, there were guests of every race, species and blood color in every direction, all churning in a big mosh pit around the cake. The derspitians in particular were getting antsy as they were starting on sugar highs, and most everyone else was half drunk on free wedding booze. It was cacophonous to a ridiculous extent, and I thought I sniffed a whiff of the glittery death-lollipop of Calliope’s. I suppressed a shiver and tried harder to focus. Around me in the peripheral mind of my eye, I could see the souls of the people around me pop up.

Each one flickered like a flame, but held a solid shape that was only mobile at the edges. Each of the few hundred people in this room had one, but they all sort of melded into a pile of nondescript souls I didn’t care about. I reached out further. There was Jane, Roxy, Calliope, all the happy brides, each with a bright, robust flame. I smiled a little, then pushed my radius a little further, past the ballroom. I caught the feeling of John’s soul wandering the south hallway. It was a little dim compared to the firework display of emotion going on in here. I frowned at that, and opened my eyes.

I skirted the edges of the room to find an exit into the hallway. The ballroom was in the very middle of the venue with a long hallway that encircled it and lead to other rooms on the edges of the building. Cool air rushed over me as I stepped into the dark hallway. The AC was cranked to combat the sheer number of bodies in the ballroom, making the hallway freezing. It was welcome, much better than the hot, heavy atmosphere in the other room. Maybe that was why John had left? I rounded a corner and saw him leaning against a wall, picking at a piece of cake on a plate. His expression was melancholy as he pushed the cake around the plate.

It hit me, his dad. That had been his whole fatherly schtick, baking cakes and things like that. Here was Jane getting married, maybe John was just missing his dad? Regretting the experiences they’d never have together? I really didn’t have a lot of my own experience to cross-reference here. I stepped forward, deliberately stepping hard so John heard me coming and looked up.

“Oh, Dirk, hey.” His eyes weren’t wet. His expression was actually just more thoughtful than sad, now that he was looking at me. I walked over and joined him on the wall.

“Sup?”

“Nothing much. Cake.” He gestured to the pile of mush on his plate. He scooped a forkful of mostly frosting and stuck it in his mouth casually. “It’s pretty good.”

“Glad you got a piece. You split pretty fast after the girls cut it.” He shrugged.

“It was just getting hot in there. I figured Jane wouldn’t miss me for the moment if I stepped out.” I nodded, he nodded.

Neither of us said anymore, and we both just stood for a few minutes in silence. I grappled with the idea of asking something, I didn’t wanna pry. It’s not like John and I were much more than fuck buddies currently. The moniker was there, relation statuses set to [OCCUPIED] on various facets of social media, but conversations between us always lapsed into this same silence lately. Somewhere between comfortable and awkward, where we both simultaneously wanted to talk and say nothing at all. Right then, however, I wanted to talk. I mean, fuck, that’s what boyfriends did, wasn’t it? I cleared my throat. John looked at me expectantly.

“Is it your dad?” I forced my eyes at his chin, that was close to eye contact right?

“What?” I couldn’t read from his tone whether he was mad or not. But I was already dedicated to this trainwreck I was gonna see it through.

“I just thought, the cake, Jane gettin’ married, maybe it was stirrin’ up…” I struggled for a word and John cut me off.

“Have you tried the cake?”

“What?” Now it was my turn for confusion. John twisted the fork to spear another chunk of cake and held it to me.

“Try it.” I was a grown-ass man and for some reason that made cheeks go hot for a quick second. I hesitated briefly, then leaned forward and took the bite from his fork. It was oddly intimate for something as simple as a bite. The cake honestly was delicious. It was moist and hearty and the frosty was light and creamy.

“It’s really good.” I said honestly. John nodded in agreement. 

“Jane’s dad made it. You know, he helped plan like, ninety percent of the wedding? Jane told me she wanted to hire a team of professional wedding planners with ten years experience each in arranging flowers and hanging drapes, but her dad insisted on taking charge.” I whistled low, John looked about as impressed as I felt. 

“That’s a shit ton to do, there’s basically half the planet here.” 

“Right? He’s so excited and so supportive of her, it’s almost stupid.” He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s weird. He’s my dad, but absolutely not my dad, yanno?” I didn’t, but I nodded anyway. John went on, “The similarities are just uncanny, and so many times I have to remind myself that he’s not the man I grew up with. But he basically is, he’s just got different horrible jokes and likes a different brand of shaving cream.” He looked down at the cake. “And he’s put hours and hours and days of effort into making sure his daughter can marry her wives, and he’s just tickled to death about it.” 

It clicked, suddenly. I’d been close, but I’d been missing a piece. 

“In what universe would your dad, voted thrice to be “Dad of the year” by Gentlemen’s Biweekly, not be tickled pink to make a cake for your gay wedding?” I nudged his ribs and elicited a small smile. 

“I think I always knew that, that’s what everyone told me, assured me. But it’s not like I could ever be sure. I was 13 when he died, I had no clue, and it’s not like it ever came up around the house. We watched Will and Grace together, that was the extent of gay media I had growing up.” His jaw shifted. “I couldn’t ever be sure. I’ve spent, god,” he reached behind his glasses to wipe his eyes with the palm of his hand, “ever since we got out of the game I’ve been trying to emulate that standard of what being a man meant, trying to keep his memory alive in me, live how he would have wanted me to. And It never quite fit, and it took me so long to figure out that I was never going to have the two and a half kids and a dog that I thought he wanted me to have. I was so sure I was letting him down.” He wiped his eyes again and laughed, a raw half-laugh half-sob of relief. 

I took the cake from his other hand and set it on the ground. As I straightened my hands hovered around his shoulders, unsure of what to do. Thankfully that’s all John needed to know the invitation was open, and he grasped me in a hug, holding me tightly as if to anchor himself. He was taller than me so I had to reach up to wrap my arms around his neck, but we fit together, if a little awkwardly. He wasn’t sobbing but I could feel him cry onto my shoulder and I held him even harder. There in that hall, without words, we connected in an intangible way that only two men like us could. 

“He woulda made so many cakes for any weddin’ you had.” I whispered against his neck. 

After a long pregnant pause John collected himself and we pulled away from each other. Caught up in the moment I pulled my glasses off my nose and slipped them into my breast pocket, realizing a half second too late how corny that was. John met my eyes and smiled. Maybe corny wasn’t too bad. 

“We can stay out here, if you want.” I offered. “I think Callie whipped out the sucker, and somehow it just continues to prove a disappointing experience each and every time I try it. I just don’t think I have that knack.” John bent down and took the plate of cake I’d left at our feet.

“I at least want to finish this before we head back in there. Wanna help?” He offered me another bite. 

“Sure.” I took the fork from him this time and put it into my own mouth, chewing as I scooped another bite and offered it to John. John took the bite without taking the fork, and he really seemed to enjoy this bite. He smiled as he swallowed. 

“I think that’s exactly how my dad would have wanted his cake’s to be enjoyed.” 

[shellheadtmarc]

so i know i've been The Actual Worst™ at actually doing something with this rhodey account but. tony/rhodey for that ship question meme. i need it.

yodels off the mountainside - you asked for it, you’re gonna get it.

Who is a night owl:  silas, we both know the answer to this question.  why are you playing.  tony is 100% the nightowl in this relationship.  some nights he’ll let rhodey roll off to bed with out him, with conversations like, “you are coming to bed at some point, right.”  “yeah, yeah, sure, as soon as i finish this.” in which tony never actually comes to bed.  or if he does it’s super late (or early) and he promptly sticks his cold hands and feet on rhodey.  other nights, especially if rhodey doesn’t have anything to do the next day, tony’ll cajole him into staying up with him.Who is a morning person:  honestly, i don’t think either of them are morning people if actual sleep is involved.  tony’s cheery when he hasn’t had any sleep, annoyingly so, but if he has, they both probably move like zombies until they’ve had their first cup of coffee, in which things progress from indecipherable grunting to stringing simple words together.Are they cuddlers:  god yes.  spoiler, y’all.  tony is a chronic cuddler.  he might not look like it, you might not think he is, but he’s greedy for that kind of affection.  it’s especially true for people he can trust without question, and rhodey is most definitely a person he can trust without question.  sci-fi movie nights are excuses to order pizza and pile on the couch, let’s be real here.

Who is the big spoon:  rhodey is 100% the big spoon in this relationship.  i don’t make the rules, tony did, and that’s just how it is.Who is the little spoon:  tony, because it’s entirely punk rock to feel warm and safe.  it doesn’t matter that tony is actually the taller of the two, rhodey is given jetpack duty and those are the rules.What is their favourite sleeping position:  i imagine it’s not a favorite, necessarily, it’s just how things go.  like, you know, they go to bed, start in the spooning position.  tony kicks off all the covers because he tried to steal them all in his sleep.  rhodey gets pushed to the edge of the bed.  and they end up like.  with tony half on rhodey keeping him on that precarious ledge, half off with his feet hanging off one side and rhodey staring at the ceiling wondering what he’s done in his life to deserve this.Who steals all the blankets:  tony.  and then he’ll get too warm in the middle of the night and kick them all off the bed.  so rhodey gets to wake up cold and probably pushed to the edge of the bed clinging on for deal life because tony is tony and there is literally no escaping him.What they wear to bed:  i see rhodey being the old mit shirts and boxers type.  barring mit shirts, he’s definitely worn his pt shirts to bed.  tony’ll steal them, too, there’s literally nothing shameful about that, don’t judge him??  but tony’s also either buck ass naked or tank top and pajama pants/tshirts.  there is no in between with him and you can never predict which he’s gonna go with.Who likes seeing the other wearing their t-shirt:  tony will swipe rhodey’s pt shirts.  it’s a thing.  rhodey will swipe tony’s tshirts.  the only thing tony refuses to touch are those goddamn polo shirts.  he won’t.  he will not.  you can’t make him.  but it’s not even a question of who likes because if one of them feels like it, they’re gonna wear the other’s clothes anyway.Who falls asleep mid-conversation:  this can go either way.  tony on a three day bender with no sleep might nod off, especially if it’s like…idle conversation because he just can’t help it.  he’ll start awake like five times before rhodey’s just like, “man, just go take a nap already.”  tony will argue, get bullied into it, and then sleep the night through.  rhodey will because tony will keep him up way too late and he just can’t hang the way he used to when they were younger, he’s tired, dude, let him sleep.Who wakes up in the middle of the night with nightmares:  listen, both of them?  i mean are you gonna tell me rhodey doesn’t have his own issues he’s dealing with?  he sure does.  tony is probably more frequent though because he’s still coming to grips with the fact that, yeah, he’s got ptsd, and he’s still learning to cope with it as best he can.Who accidentally punched the other in their sleep:  i feel like they’d both do it at some point.  having a dream (not a nightmare just a dream) and being woken up and at that point where the dream’s going but they’re still not conscious and just a nice solid right hook to the jaw.  or the heel of a palm right to the face.  there wouldn’t be like…any real apologies, per se, but a lot of poking fun at each other about it and bringing it up in conversation with other people, while the other one’s standing right there.Who can’t keep their hands to themselves:  he has a name and it begins with t and rhymes with baloney.  tony, it’s tony.  he’s a toucher anyway.  give him the option of admitting you got them lusty feelings and it’s on.Who said “I love you” first:  they’ve been telling each other “i love you” for so long it doesn’t even matter now.  even before there was anything non-platonic.  even in verses where everything’s platonic.  tony never fails to tell rhodey he loves him, fullstop.  rhodey never fails to tell tony he loves him.  fullstop.  tony’s lost and lost and lost and rhodey knows that.  and knows it’s important for tony to let the people he loves know he does.Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background:  oh my god listen.  you know how peter and ned have really terrible pictures of each other in their phones?  this.  idgaf what mcu told you.  they both have absolutely embarrassing unflattering pictures of each other as their contact pictures.  so rhodey can be sitting somewhere, his phone starts to ring, and it’s literally a picture of tony you wouldn’t think exists because it’s completely unattractive and unflattering.  doesn’t matter if they’re smoochin or not, they’re still best friends and that’s the shit best friends do.Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror:  it’s a game.  whoever gets the shower first starts it.  and it goes back and forth while they get ready for the day.  and we’re not talking mushy little love notes, no.  we’re talking them taking the piss out of each other back and forth while they get ready.Who buys the other cheesy gifts:  they both do this.  like the epitome of gag gifts, things that reference injokes between them that no one else will get.  serious gifts, though, rhodey’s tried and tried to curb tony’s budget on those and tony just will not listen and rhodey’s learned to just sigh and let it go because tony’s tony and tony is hardheaded.Who initiated the first kiss:  rhodey would almost certainly have to?  tony?  is a piner?  he pines.  have you noticed that?  he doesn’t act.  he’ll flirt and make comments and be awkward but.  it’s either mutual or you gotta let him know you’re 100% where he is or he’ll make sad puppy eyes forever when it’s someone he’s got genuine feelings for.  that said, once that ice is broken rhodey has Regrets.  because that gives tony Permission.Who kisses the other awake in the morning:  mmmm, i would say…it depends…on a lot?  like on the one hand, oh no, that’s cute.  on the other, you’ve got tony drooling into his pillow and that’s gross.  so you know, it varies.  who’s awake, did tony actually sleep, neither of them are gonna be morning people, so…Who starts tickle fights:  tony’s the one that horses around.  so this is definitely him.  and rhodey like, “wow, tony, try to be more mature, you can’t just tickle someone, that’s rude.” and the minute tony turns his back it is on.  this goes for a lot of things, though.  tony being goofy, rhodey pretending to be the more mature one, the minute tony decides pfft, this is no fun anyway, rhodey throwing it right back at him because tony let his guard down.  this is it, this is how they work.Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower:  “ask”.  that’s cute.  yeah, i hate to say it but tony will just shove rhodey to one side.  it ain’t even gotta be sexy at all just, “hey, shove over, you’re sharing.”  Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch:  100% more likely to be tony since he has more flexibility.  listen, you don’t get to just tromp off and do whatever when you’re in the military, even if you are a colonel.  but tony waltzing in and doing that because he’s not really a civilian, but he’s not really government either?  absolutely likely to happen.  and i’m not talking fancy lunch.  no.  that’s not how this works.  i’m talking lunch from one of their favorite hole in the wall places.  you know, heart attack waiting to happen.Who was nervous and shy on the first date:  listen.  do you know how long they’ve known each other?  their first date-date wasn’t nervous.  it was a continuation of the shit they usually do, only at that point it wasn’t pals being pals anymore, no more two dudes in a hot tub five feet apart, and more handholding, thank you and goodnight.Who kills/takes out the spiders:  come on.  neither of them are babies about this, there’s no way you can quantify who takes out the spiders.  they both will.  post meeting peter, there’s a new no spider killing rule in the house, though.Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk:  hi yes this is tony.  listen, it could be that whole au where these two idiots are like married with a kid and tony would still want random strangers to know he’s stupidly in love.  he’d still want rhodey to know he’s stupidly in love with him.  it doesn’t matter.  no matter the situation.  it’s tony.

ship meme : accepting : @alloyally 😍😍😍