#starkspangledwinterhawk

[incorrecttonyxeveryonequotes]

Tony: [looking at sky] This view is so beautiful, right guys?

Steve: [looking at Tony’s ass] Wonderful!

Clint: [looking at Tony’s ass] Totally!

Bucky: [looking at Tony’s ass] Yep.

[libramayablue]

Question: What's another way to transfer music from your computer to your iPod without Itunes?? I have been trying to use Itunes, but half of my songs weren't on there. 😩😵

[aurumacadicus]

For the AU, you had one where Bucky was a demon and Steve was an angel and Steve was sent to take care of Tony and Clint, but he was slowly dying trying to help tony, can we get 5 head canons for that? It’s my favorite!

The post in question can be found here.

Steve sometimes just basks in Clint and Tony’s presence. They don’t even have to be doing things together--one time Bucky came in and Clint was playing video games and Tony was reading a book in another room and Steve was just there on the couch, looking like there could be nothing better than just sitting there. “What’s your deal?” Bucky asks, feeling oddly unsettled. Steve blinks his eyes open slowly and tips his head back over the couch to look at him. “They’re happy,” he explains simply. “That’s all I ever wanted for them.” “Gross,” Bucky says immediately, more reflex than anything, and skitters into the room Tony’s in to curl up with his head on his lap. Tony lifts his arms so that Bucky can cuddle up against his stomach properly, then rests a hand on his head, scratching lightly around the bases of his horns. “Hey, honey.” Bucky grunts a greeting, then tips his head up to look at Tony, frowning. “Are you happy, Tony?” Tony blinks in confusion. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” “Hng,” Bucky says, and buries his face in Tony’s stomach again.

Steve tells everyone that him rescuing Bucky was a one-time thing, and it was only because he clearly made Tony happy. Still, when more demon hunters show up at their door, he’s also the one that turns and very pleasantly says, “Sweethearts, please go into the bedroom.” “But,” Tony begins, offended. Bucky begins ushering them ahead of him. “You heard him, sweethearts. Into the bedroom we go. Wouldn’t want you to go blind from the sheer brightness of Steve’s true being.” “The sheer what of his what,” Clint asks, before Bucky pulls the door shut behind them. Once the door is shut, all they can hear is the horrifying noise Steve had made at Bucky that one time to drown out his words.

“I WANNA SEE,” Tony shouts, kicking the bedroom door open after the noise has stopped. He stops. Stares. “Oh my God this is so many eyes,” Clint says. “Where do I look. Which eyes do I make contact with. ARE YOU A BALL OF FLAMES WITH EYES FLYING AROUND IT?” Somehow, the ball of flames at the center of Steve’s being heaves an exasperated sigh, and all of his eyes roll at once. It’s a bit more complicated, his voice booms from nowhere. But basically yes. I’m a ball of flames with eyes flying around it. Like Rutherford’s model of an atom. “Don’t you drag science into this,” Tony barks. “There’s nothing scientific about what we’re seeing!” “His wings look like antennas,” Clint says, and Steve sighs again. “I’m gonna touch the flames,” Tony decides, taking a step toward him. No! Steve snaps. Bucky, stop him! “You’ll burn your arm clean off, Tony,” Bucky says as he obediently stops him, amused. Clint looks disappointed. “So we can’t bone like this?” All of Steve’s eyes turn on him. Excuse me what. “Yeah, there’s nothing attractive about him like this,” Bucky adds skeptically. Steve jerks to glare at him. Somehow it’s a lot more intimidating now. Bucky blames it on the fact that there are even more eyes to do it with.

They want to fuck the ball of flames. They are not allowed to fuck the ball of flames. “This doesn’t seem fair,” Clint complains. “We get to fuck Bucky in his true form! How come we can’t fuck you in yours?” “Because he’s a fucking ball of flames!” Bucky barks, at the same time Steve raises his eyebrows and says, “That’s not Bucky’s true form.” Clint and Tony go silent, slack-jawed, before they burst out with questions and please for him to change forms. “Look what you’ve done,” Bucky hisses, putting his hands on his hips as he turns to glare at Steve. “You’re right,” Steve agrees miserably. “I shouldn’t have said that. I should have known. In my defense... I’m still not used to humans being monster fuckers.” Tony’s eyes go all big and hurt. “You guys aren’t monsters!” Clint turns to give Tony a bewildered glare. “Tony.” “Not bad ones!” Tony hurries to add, but the damage has been done, from the way everyone’s looking at him. Anyway eventually they bully him into shifting into his true form and he’s used to people quaking in fear at the view of a giant, flaming hellhound, but Clint literally takes one look at him and coos ‘puppy!’ and Tony just begins hugging his leg, and it’s all very overwhelming, how unafraid they are.

“Oh my God they’re so ugly,” Clint says, delighted, when Tony presents him with a baby demon. “Can I hold it?” “You have to hold it tight, otherwise it’ll try to bite you,” Tony explains. “It won’t mean to! It’s just... consumed with itself. It reacts to every emotion with ‘eat it.’” “I mean, who doesn’t?” Clint reasons. He turns. “Hey, Steve, look at--” He trails off, frowning. Steve looks up from where he’s casually strangling Bucky. “That’s nice, sweetheart,” he says, then goes back to shaking Bucky wildly, growling, “I can’t believe you brought one of those here it could fucking rip them to shreds you’re such a fucking dumbass and I don’t know what any of us see in you.” “It’s cute!” Tony tries to insist, running his finger over the demon’s beak. “Steve, look! Like a chicken and a lizard had a baby!” The demon coos and lovingly bites his finger hard enough to draw blood. “...This doesn’t mean anything,” Tony begins. “TAKE IT BACK,” Steve orders, and Bucky mulishly takes the demon back to Hell.

[marvelpolyshipbingo]

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[fandom-fic-rec]

Cuddle Therapist

Fandom: Marvel

Ratings: General

Warnings: None

Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters:  James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark

Summary

Tony has no idea that he has become the designated cuddler in the relationship for when his boyfriends are having bad days. He doesn't need to know that to enjoy all of the affection though.

Link

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6852811#main

[feelingsinwinter]

The Mountain’s Crown - Chapter 8 (end)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Everything was ready, Tony thought.

Usually, being done with a task filled him with a sense of achievement. This time, however, felt different. It made the gaping hole in his chest bigger and deeper. As if someone had carved his heart out. It probably shouldn’t feel as familiar as it did.

No matter how he felt, though, it had to be done. All he could do was make sure they would be safe and well provided for their trip. Dry meat, fruits and cheese for rations, Clint was an astonishing archer, he could hunt for them if needed. So could Bucky, considering his skills. Tony also had given them some warm clothes and thick blankets for the cold nights or if the weather turned bad enough to need them.

Tony had considered giving them horses but discarded the idea almost as soon as it came. Some of his guests were ready to go back to the world and sported soft spots for the three men, but taking care and feeding horses was expensive and difficult. Tony didn’t know enough about their lives to tell if they could do it and while he trust them to take the right decision, it wasn’t necessary to put them in that situation.

They’d come all the way from the city to the mountains, did it on their own feet. They certainly could make their way back without horses. The Kingdom’s borders weren’t that far, anyway.

[Beware the read more]

There was nothing left to do. No matter how hard he tried to find something. Nothing aside from letting them know they were free to go and giving them indications. If they wanted a map, he couldn’t even use the pretext of drawing it himself since he already had one prepared.

It had been a long time, Tony thought bitterly, since he’d wanted to keep someone as much as he did for those three. But they weren’t his to keep and they didn’t want to stay. Tony was many things, some of them bad at best, but he wasn’t one to keep people that didn’t want to stay, not without a good reason anyway. His good reason was gone now.

“Time to keep your word,” he muttered, eyes lingering over the bags.

Something hard poked him in the shoulder and Tony lifted a hand, running his fingers alongside Peter’s beak until he reached the feathers. The griffin rested his head on Tony’s shoulder, clucking softly and gently bumping the side of his head against Tony’s.

There were times where Tony wondered if Peter could feel others’ emotions. Be it humans or animals. Some days, the griffin could be found curled up either around dogs, horses, wolves, bears, pretty much everything he could reach outside of the house. At first, it seemed entirely random but as time passed, Tony had started to find a pattern. It always pointed toward a distressed animal had needed some presence, some comfort, something, anything, and Peter had provided it.

“Must be hell, living near me, if you can feel my emotions,” Tony joked, voice low as he glanced sideway at Peter.

Tony couldn’t help the squeal when Peter pinched his ear.

“I didn’t deserve that!”

Tony batted his beak away, freeing his sore ear from the evil beak. Peter leaped away, chattering happily as he danced, beating the ground and flapping his wings. Tony chuckled and reached for a bag and handed it to the griffin.

“Stop being an idiot and help me.”

Peter snorted, tucking his wings back against his flanks, doing a terrible job at hiding his disappointment. He took the bag Tony was handing him in his beak and started toward the house.

Peter was totally unprepared when Tony reached out to pinch the space under the tuft of feathers on the left side of his head. Peter squeaked in surprise, dropping the bag on his surprise, and screeched angrily as Tony snickered.

Before the griffin could leap and make a move on the vengeance burning bright in his eyes, the house’s door opened and let the three men out. This time, at least, Tony wasn’t in a compromised position.

“Are you about to fight a griffin again?” Bucky drawled as Clint snickered, not bothering hiding it.

There was an answer to that but Tony kept his mouth shut, very well aware of the way Steve’s eyes were wandering near Tony’s feet. The way Steve’s face fell as he took in the three bags made Tony’s heart clench painfully from where it was beating madly against his ribs. He did nothing but watch as the realization dawn on Steve. Then on Bucky and Clint.

Words were lost to him, mind blank, only filled with the play of emotions washing over the three men’s faces.

To say what, anyway ?

There was no reason for their reactions. None for Clint’s defeated shoulders either, or Bucky’s resolved face. Why Steve would be sad, anyway? They finally got what they wanted: freedom. To be allowed to go and come back home, to be done with the shitshow the Mountain’s Crown was on a daily basis.

“Tony?”

There was no reason for flinching away from Steve’s hesitant tone either. Or the way it had wavered toward the end. No reason, and yet Tony did. It felt like a vacillating arrow, shot without conviction, flying weakly and yet felt like it stabbed right into Tony’s chest, leaving him breathless and lost.

This was illogical. They only accepted, grudgingly at best, to stay because Tony wouldn’t let them go. They agreed to prove themselves trustworthy. It had worked, Tony trusted them now and was letting them go. Yet, they looked like he had just punched them. It made no sense! No sense at all! Why couldn’t they react like he was doing them a favor, be happy and cry out in victory? Why couldn’t they just grab their fucking bag and go like everyone else would? At least it would be done and over and Tony could go and lick his wounds in peace.

Steeling himself and shoving away the knot of emotions that was starting to snowballing out of proportions, Tony straightened and dusted his clothes to give himself time to pull back some kind of composure.

Beside him, Peter made a low clucking sound, shuffling away, head and wings lowering ever so slightly. Tony carded his fingers gently through the feathers. “You can go, I’ll take it from here.”

Peter nibbled the tip of Tony’s fingers before trotting away, shaking the earth when he soar to the sky, wings spread wide and feathers glinting in the early sun.

Which left Tony alone to deal with what should have been a clean cut but seemed to be about to go wrong. How was he supposed to let them go if they looked like he was kicking them out instead of giving them back their freedom, like they’d wanted from the beginning? Clint was healed, Tony deemed them trustworthy, there was nothing keeping them here.

“So,” he started, clearing his throat when it came all wrong, strangled by the knot tightly wound up around Tony’s throat. “After some thinking and time, I’ve decided you can go. I don’t think you’ll be a threat to this place, which was why you had to stay in the first place,” he felt necessary to remind them. They didn’t stay willingly in the first place, for fuck’s sake. They helped, sure, but it was all a way to prove they weren’t going to harm Tony’s charges. And because those assholes couldn’t stay idly by to save their lives. Steve had started to learn knitting in lack of anything else to do, Clint had carved a bow and some arrows for Tony to train with and Bucky was always occupied, be it cleaning or taking the animals on a walk. Which wasn’t needed since they were all free to wander around and go if they so much as wanted to. All of it to keep themselves occupied when they weren’t taking care of the haven. For Goodness’ sake, it’ll be hard to go back to his old ways, Tony thought. It would be hard to go back and work on the water system now that he wouldn’t have as much help as he had while they were around and taking charge of most if not all the work. They had brought life with them. They were now taking it away, their warmth, their voices and their touches. Tony would be alone, once again. “I prepared your package-”

“These are our bags,” Clint cut him, frowning.

“Yeah, I took the liberty of filling them with what you needed. They were already full of your belongings anyway.” It hadn’t hurt, Tony convinced himself. Of course they wanted to leave. He wouldn’t stay either, not with two lovers and a life outside of this place. “I gave back your weapons. There’s food for a few days, warm clothes and blankets. I’ve a map if you need o-”

“We don’t need a map, we don’t wa-”

Clint’s tirade ended with the sound of a deflating balloon when Bucky elbowed him in the ribs. For the second time. Tony frowned, tilting his head to the side as he considered them. What the fuck was happening. He shook his head and went back to the point: “So. No map needed, got it. You can go whenever you want but if you want to be at home early, I’d suggest leaving now.” Leaving them to pick up their bag and do as they wanted, Tony turned on his heels and tried to think of what he was supposed to do at this hour.

The horses maybe? Or the dogs? Maybe see if the wolf was doing better today and if his paw was on the right direction for healing properly. There was so much to do and his routine was disrupted, refusing entirely to come back to him. His head was a mess of scrambling brain.

Behind him, he heard Steve calling after him but the sound ended in a “oof”, indicating Bucky had probably used his pointy elbow once again. No surprise here. Nothing to feel hurt about, or dejected. Or like his heart was shattering in his chest.

Tony headed toward the house, bitterness cloaking his throat and eyes burning.

***

Some days later

Peter’s chattering call startled Tony out of his daydreaming. Glaring at the floor still covered in mud, horshit and whatnot despte his best efforts, Tony rested the broom against the nearest stable and headed outside.

Since the wonder boys’ departure, staying focused on a task had become nearly impossible. He’d tried to work on his side projects, including the running water, but it only ended in hurting himself and damaging something he’d have to fix later. Way later. When he’d be able to think straight like a normal human being, kind of later.

Days had passed, though, and nothing had changed.

Reading was bound to fail and he would only realize it after reading the same sentence - or page - for over a hundred times. At best. Trying and build another part for the house? Bad idea. His thumb was still sore from where the hammer had hit it one too many time and the tool was probably still laying where Tony had throw it in a fit of rage.

While his cares for his guests hadn’t lessened and he was still doing well, the rest suffered greatly. Cleaning took twice longer than before, harvesting was harder than before because not only was he distracted, but he was also alone and the garden hadn’t shrink since the boys’ departure. Which means he had to harvest the whole thing and then stack it neatly, hoping the garden would get back to its previous size sometime soon. Tony’s cellar was crowded with fruits and vegetables.

He’d tried to make jam but even that had turned into a disaster.

His forearm had started to hurt, anyway. Again. It was probably time to take care of the wound and change the bandages. First, though, Tony needed to check what had upset Peter enough to warrant an alarm.

He was nearing the end of the flat ground in front of the house, reaching where it started going downside, toward the forest. From there, Tony would be able to see anything coming their way. Giving him enough time to ponder about the nature of this call.

Peter’s alert had been a small one. Definitely not the one related to a wounded animal or Tony would already be rushing and running his lungs out. Nothing dangerous to expect either, the sound for that was entirely different. More like…

Greetings.

“What the-”

Crossing the trees’ borders were three very recognizable, very unexpected silhouettes. The one on the left had broad shoulders and long hair but they were tucked away. Probably with one of those ridiculous leather tie Tony had given him when Bucky had complained about his hair getting in his face. On the right side was Steve. He was wearing the clothes Tony had put in his backpack, including the leathered gloves. Between them walked Clint. Even from afar, Tony could make out the proud grin splitting his face in half.

It made him chuckle, despite the disbelief. Steve was holding the flange of a horse stirring a cart covered by a white cloth. Tony frowned. No matter how much he loved them and trust them, there was still that tiny doubt about what could be hiding under the piece of cloth. What else was waiting behind the curtains of trees. Was an army on its way over here?

Peter flew above Tony, his shadow covering him for a full second as he passed, gliding lazily toward the incomers. The griffin landed near the rig, not close enough to allow the men to touch him, but enough to tell if something felt wrong.

Tony sighed in relief when Peter leapt forward, clucking his beak in happiness and prancing in front of Steve, Bucky and Clint, wings flapping and tail flicking happily. The griffin broke in a sprint and jumped, soaring through the sky with a loud cry, probably attracting Trisha and Birdy’s attention.

A part of Tony wanted the three men to be coming back for staying more permanently. It was a huge, selfish, part, clearly. Another one, though, was already scolding them if they weren’t, because they would hurt the animals.

Fist firmly planted on his hips, Tony waited for them to join him but of course Clint had something else in mind. Halfway there, he dropped his backpack, tripped Steve and pushed Bucky away before sprinting toward Tony. Behind the archer, the others two started yelling as they run after him but Clint didn’t slow down. Not even when he reached Tony, which was definitely not expected. He rammed into Tony, sending them both tumbling on the ground where he kissed him, using Tony’s opened mouth to deepen it instantly.

He yelped, surprised, but when his brain caught back to what was happening, Tony let out a small moan and kissed back, his arms winding around Clint’s frame and gripping tightly on his tunic. He has been longing for them for so long, Clint’s body covering him felt like a balm over his open, aching heart.

It was way too early, for both of them if Tony was to judge Clint’s complaint, when Bucky ripped Clint off of Tony and glared at the archer. Far from feeling threatened, Clint grinned and waggled his eyebrows:

“Loosers.”

Weirdly enough, it wasn’t worth a punch right to the face but it was a near thing considering the way Bucky glared at him and Steve pinched Clint’s side in retaliation.

Tony was still spread on the ground, taking them in, his eyes roaming over every change he could find. Bucky looked freer than ever, shoulders straight and smile carefree. There were no shadows lurking in the grey of his beautiful eyes. Only mirth shining bright and free.

“You planning on stayin’ there all day, doll?” Bucky drawled.

Steve had a beard peaking out, a few days growth. His left hand was holding onto his belt were a long sword was attached. It wasn’t old, not entirely new either but it had been well taken care of, the metal shone and Tony could smell the familiar scent of oil. Steve looked expectant, smiling softly despite an edge of uncertainty.

Clint… Clint was bright and smiling like there was no tomorrow and nothing could reach him. His lips were slightly swollen, not enough to be obvious but Tony could see it. Had seek it. They were bright, bringing hope with them but-

“I’m trying to decide if you’re real or if I’m hallucinating,” he said, voice hoarse, drinking in the sight of Bucky’s broad shoulders straining his top, of Clint’s muscular arms showed off by his armless tunic, of Steve’s clear blue… frowning eyes.

Steve crouched beside Tony and touched delicately above the end of the bandage on Tony’s forearm.

“What happened?”

A look at his sleeve showed that blood had pierce through the bandages and onto the fabric. It took a bit of effort and a lot more motivation Tony felt he had, but he managed to raise on a seating position and lifted his sleeve. He winced when it pulled on the wound but it wasn’t as bad as it seemed, it was just a bit of tore flesh and some holes. Ok, a lot of holes. But nothing to fuss over.

“A bear cub. Mama bear wasn’t happy with me. It was near the borders of the Crown’s so its magic couldn’t sooth them as much as if they’d been inside. She still let me help. Not before taking a chunk as a warning though.” It looked like he had told them the bear had ripped his leg off. Tony snorted, a smile tugging at his lips. “Seriously, guys. It’s not that bad. It’d be better if I could stitch it but it’s badly located so… still, no big deal.”

Bucky’s sigh felt like it came from so deep within himself, Tony worried a second about how tired and old the man really was.

“I guess I should resign myself. I only fall in love with daredevils, I guess.”

“You’ve got a type,” Clint snorted as Steve grinned so widely, it probably hurt.

“Let’s take care of that,” Steve said, through his too big smile, eyes shining like the sun glinting over the ocean. Steve extended a hand and Tony took it, grateful for the help because Clint had tackled him just right. His back and chest felt like he’d been run over by horses but damn did he missed being kissed.

Which- A look back at Clint’s lips revealed them just that little bit swollen, still glistening from their kiss. Not a hallucination.

“You kissed me,” he said, dumbfounded, as Steve stirred him toward the house, followed by Clint and Bucky and the horse pulling the cart.

“That I did!” Clint answered proudly.

“But why?”

Steve’s hold on his arm was gentle, leading him softly and ready to hold him up if he was to collapse. Tony huffed, annoyed, but let Steve hold him. It irked him that Steve thought him so weak but on the other hand, his touch had been dearly missed and Tony wasn’t about to give that up to sooth his pride. There was plenty of time to prove Steve wrong. If they were to stay.

Please, make them stay.

“Because, you stubborn piece of shit,” Bucky said without any heat, his hand nestled in Tony’s lower back, “we were ‘bout to ask you t’be our fourth when you kicked us out.”

Tony spluttered and would have stopped on his track if it weren’t for Steve’s gentle leading and Bucky’s hand pushing him forward.

“Bucky thought it would be wise to prove to you we were serious. So we went back home, sold our house and took our belongings with us so we could move in.”

“You what?!” It was hard to say which from shock, disbelief, hope and happiness took the lead. “What if I’d say ‘no’?”

“But you won’t, right?”

Tony gaped as they passed the threshold, lost for words, making Clint giggle and Steve smile softly. The blond tugged lightly on Tony’s arm, bringing him close as he leaned down. Anticipation fluttered in Tony’s chest and he raised on his tiptoes to meet Steve halfway but before any contact could be made, Tony was snatched away and right into Bucky’s chest.

“Me first,” he growled, satisfaction thick in his voice as his hand tilted Tony’s head for a better angle. Tony heard Steve protesting in the background but Bucky’s lips finding his made everything else fade. It was chaste, at first, a small, light touch of their lips. But Bucky was nothing if a dirty player and soon his tongue swept across Tony’s lower lip, soon followed by teeth nipping at the soft flesh, making Tony mewl softly. Before anything could get satisfying enough, though, Bucky started laughing, shaking against Tony’s. “Steve’s glaring at us and I think he might be plotting my death,” Bucky explained with a happy grin, eyes dark with lust.

“I might have, actually,” came Steve’s growling answer.

Clint’s whooping ended in a fit of giggles, quickly followed by the three of them.

Steve’s kiss wasn’t as soft as Tony had expected. It was wicked and hungry and it lit a burning fire of lust in Tony’s lower belly. For a second he wondered how he was supposed to survive a relationship with them.

“First, we need to take care of that arm, then we need to talk,” Steve stated, leading them inside, where he knew the supplies to take care of injuries were located. His eyes spoke of want and need and impatience but his hand, while firm, remained tender.

Somewhere behind him, Tony heard someone whine in despair.

His bet was on Bucky.

FIN

[starkspangledwinterhawkmonth]

You can do it!

With less than two weeks left in August Stark Spangled Winter Hawk Month is just over a month away.

That still gives all of us plenty of time to cobble together our fanworks. 

That idea that has been sitting in your head? Write it down. Doesn’t matter if it’s just an idea or a story, write those sentences and post them in October. 

Is that idea more of an image than a story? You can write it down as well. Talk about what you want to create, even if you never end up drawing it. Or even just get a sketch down. 

Is it a mood board, but you can’t quite decide on the aesthetic/ images you want to use? Or maybe you have an picture, but you can’t quite get it to work the way you want it to. Talk about it/explain your process. You can even do it via video.

This month is less about completion and perfection and more about sharing and bonding over a shared love of this rare ship. 

So if you have been struggling or just have been feeling down about your work, it’s okay. Perfection isn’t needed. Just you. ❤️

[sierranovembr]

Guuuh, I’m just trying to write a little thing for @starkspangledwinterhawkmonth and Bucky went and had FEELINGS all over it and I am not sure how to get them back to it....

Tony and Clint are making out upstairs without you, guys!  Seriously!

[latelierderiot]

ok, @meaanimo @petronellarose  hear me out.

zombie!Tony with these wwii ghost (his bfs??) hovering over him, ‘because we can’t leave this precious boy alone!’ 

‘You died when we weren’t around!’ 

‘That’s why you don’t need to worry! I can’t die again! What’s the worst that can happen?’

‘...you can forget your head?’

‘.....’

‘...which already happened...’

‘we agreed not to talk about that. ever. again’

‘...more than once’

‘....’

Enters Clint, baseline human, offended because a dead man shouldn’t be so hot, wtf! The ghosts that are with him are a little bit intimidating... and he seems to have a preference for dead people? That won’t stop him tho!

Tony laughs so hard he breaks in half, the soldier ghosts don’t know over who fret, because their precious zombie is in half, laughing on the floor, and the other one is actually alive! He can hurt himself! HE CAN ACTUALLY DIE OMG!

[menatiera]

Inktober Day 2: Barefoot (based on this prompt list) Pairing: StarkSpangledWinterHawk - focused on Winteriron Length: 1300 words Summary: Bucky is sleepwalking when he has a bad dream. Tony comforts him. @akira-of-the-twilight

Tony jerked awake because of the absence. He rubbed at the ARC-reactor and briefly thought with dream-foggy brain, wow, I did get used to their presence. He didn't expect that, but here he was, missing his boyfriends even while sleeping. He yawned, and get up to retreat to their room... only to realize he was in their room already. Only the others weren't.

His mind finally kicked in, giving him the necessary information that Steve and Clint were both on a mission, so them being away was completely normal, nothing to worry about. Bucky, on the other hand... he should've been here. They fall asleep wrapped in each others’ arms. Tony's heartbeat skyrocketed. "Friday?", he asked quietly, out of breath in a second. The AI was not as familiar with him as Jarvis were - probably never ever will -, but she responded immediately.

"Mr. Barnes left twenty minutes ago, and is currently located in the swimming pool area."

The answer only made Tony's worry worse, and he basically sprinted out of the room, toward the lower level.

How did Bucky even get down there? The doors should've been locked and sealed. It's not like mere doors could hold back the former Winter Soldier long, but breaking one means alerting Friday, and therefore alerting Tony, and...

Tony stopped as soon as he entered the hall. Bucky was near the open blue of the water. He wore his pajamas: comfortable Hawkeye-purple sweetpants, an Iron Man hoodie and Steve's original dog tags around his neck. (Actually, all of his clothes were Avengers-themed. Since Bucky realized the first floor gift shop could provide any and every clothing item with the team's merchanise, he refused to wear anything else.) He was also barefoot, frozen in his place with one foot in a puddle, and Tony's heart sank as he realized his boyfriend was silently sobbing between muttered words.

"Hey, sweetheart", Tony called, but got no response at all. Bucky's posture was tense and submissive: shoulders hunched, metal arm loose next to him and flesh arm hugging his own torso. His head was so lowered that a vertebra was painfully sticked out on the nape of his neck.

Tony moved closer cautiously. "Baby, whatever it is, it'll be all right." He got around the other man in as big circle as the pool allowed him, and walked closer from the front. Bucky stared at the ground, blind, unblinking. Tony cursed under his breath.

Just as he expected: Bucky was trapped in one of his nightmares. Good dreams never made him sleepwalking.

That's why Tony installed a door-locking protocol to the Tower. To avoid Bucky wandering away until he comes to his senses. "Friday, how did Bucky end up here?"

"I'm afraid Mr. Barnes overrode my protocol, boss."

"In his sleep?"

"In his sleep", Friday confirmed, and damn, that was impressive. Tony wasn't sure that anyone beside Bucky and Natasha would be able to hack into his AI, and they had the advantage of knowing how Tony and Friday worked, but doing it while not really conscious? Damn.

Tony forced himself to pay attention to the present situation, since drooling over the Soldier's hacking abilities was pointless at the moment. He couldn't understand Bucky's quiet Russian murmuring, since he was barely audible, but he'd recognize that tone anywhere: that was the sound of being in pain and begging for relief.

A Hydra memory, then.

Tony had to decide what to do. Doctors, including Bruce, always warned against waking up the sleepwalking person, especially if that person was an unpredictable supersoldier with a healing brain from past trauma, but letting Bucky stay in some godawful nightmare was on the edge of torture. Tony was always the man of risks, and just standing and watching his boyfriend's suffering while not doing anything was really out of the question.

He clapped his hands three times, almost aggressively loud.

Bucky cried out and staggered backwards.

"Bucky, James, it's okay, it's me!", Tony called at the same time, and was already next to Bucky, hugging him close to his chest, ignoring the fact that he could’ve been killed by a single blow if Bucky would react violently.

"Net, pozhaluysta...", the first two word still came out in Russian, but then Bucky woke up more, and he shut up to finally assess his surroundings. His sobs were cut the moment he was awake, but his face was still wet with tears. "Tony..."

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty", Tony murmured into his ears, tightening his hold on him. "It was a dream, just a nightmare, it's over now."

Bucky clutched to Tony like his life depended on it, but still he moved both of them backward, floundering away from the light-reflected surface of the water. He shut his eyes close, and took some shaky breaths, trying to ground himself.

"Wasn't just a dream", he argued, and he sounded weak. Tony's heart ached, but at the same time, he felt proud. It took a long time for Bucky to open up to anyone, and Tony was honoured to be among the trusted few. "Memory."

"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want."

"I don't want", Bucky shrugged. "But Doc says I can't repress everything", he added after a brief pause. "Wet. The water. It... They used...", he stammered with his words, and he had to start again. "Electricity. As a punishment. They locked me up in a cell where there was always water on the floor and if I misbeheaved... it just needed a little spark and... y'know I was already afraid of electricity." He hid his face behind his metal palm. Tony hold him closer and tried to bottle up his anger toward long-dead people, to be as calm and collected and reassuring as his boyfriend needed right now. "Because of the machine. And I'd... I wanted to do anything just to avoid... God, I did so much to..."

That was the point where Tony lost it and couldn't hold back his words. "No, baby, it's not your fault, remember? We're over this, it's not your fault, all the blame is on them, you are innocent in their crime. And it won't happen ever again, I promise, I swear, we'd never let it happen again."

Bucky still didn't lift his head.

"I know it's awful, Bucky, believe me, I know." Tony had his own share of torture and water-related trauma, and after tonight, he was quite sure he won't even bear to shower for a few days. "But you can trust me, you can trust us. Me and Steve and Clint? We'd die before we let anyone harm you again, sweetheart."

Bucky finally let his hand fall to his side, and instead he hid his face in Tony's shirt. "I know", he whispered.

They stand there for a while, hugging each other. Tony enjoyed Bucky's warm presence in the embrace, and felt the slow process as the other's pulse resettled into its normal, steady rhythm. The fact that he was able to offer comfort to Bucky made him felt better too, helped him to calm down as well.

"I'm sorry", Bucky said after a good ten minutes of silence.

"You don't have to", Tony reassured him. "Wanna call Steve or Clint?"

"Nah, I'd rather stay with you", Bucky confessed, and Tony couldn't suppress a happy smile at that. Bucky lifted Tony's hand to his mouth and gave a light kiss on it. "My one and only Mechanic."

"And my one and only tin soldier", Tony teased back immediately. The silly nicknames showed they were over the hardest part of the night. "And Bucky?"

"Hm?"

"From now on, we'll sleep with socks on. These tiles are freezing my feet."

Bucky chuckled back a little laugh. "If you say so..."

[sierranovembr]

Nearly plotless OT4 fluff to complete my first bingo for the TSB!!! I also managed to fit it into squares in each of my other active bingos as well. 🎉🎉🎉

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Additional Tags: Polyamory, Established Relationship, OT4, Cuddling & Snuggling, Comfort Clothes, starkspangledwinterhawk Summary:

Sometimes you just have to crawl into bed before dinner. Or, Tony has a bad day and gets some comfort from his boyfriends.

[aurumacadicus]

Did someone say more StarkSpangledWinterHawk? No? Too bad you’re getting some anyway. Watch out for under the cut!

Demon Bucky is bored. Driving others to sin is no fun when so many people don’t need that much convincing. He remembers only a few hundred years ago when it took all of his cunning and skill to get a human to enjoy some premarital sex. Now he just needs to find the right establishment and humans will come onto him. He hates to sound like one of the older demons but he misses the good old days where humans were fun to manipulate.

He’s so bored, in fact, that when he feels the tingle of magic that means a demon is being summoned, he seriously considers letting one of the underlings go up instead. Then he sighs, because summonings powerful enough to make him aware of them are so rare that this is actually interesting again. If it fails to be interesting enough for him, he’s going to smite the human that summoned him. They so rarely get summoning circles right anymore, they’re so easy to break out of, and the sad truth is that a human desperate or dumb enough to summon a demon is rarely missed by friends or family.

Except everything about the summoning circle is perfect--every rune in its place and every sigil tight like a steel trap. Bucky is immediately pissed off but also intrigued by the skill that was necessary to complete the summoning circle like this. He looks around, frowning. It looks like a regular apartment, perhaps a bit on the shabbier side, but clean. Bucky turns his attention on the two humans instead, both of them looking at him, stunned. He examines them quickly, humming thoughtfully as he takes them in. They’ve both got a darkness clinging to them, though the blond’s has definitely faded. The brunet’s has faded, too, but not as much.

“What do you want?” Bucky asks when it’s clear they aren’t going to say anything. The circle’s clad tight enough that he can’t leave until he’s heard them out, and it’s quite possible he might even have to make a deal with them to leave--he’s not quite sure yet, some of the sigils he needs to examine a little more.

The blond jumps, and then he straightens his shoulders and asks, “Can you heal people?”

Bucky sneers at him, offended. “I can do anything. The question is will I? To be clear, the answer is no.”

The blond looks dismayed, but the brunet straightens his shoulders and scowls at him. “Everyone has a price. You’ll do it if we offer you what you want.”

“And what do you think I want, precious?” Bucky asks, amused in spite of himself. Humans were so adorably stupid these days.

The brunet opens his mouth, then closes it again, frowning unhappily with the knowledge that he has no idea what Bucky would want. The blond frowns. “What do you want, then?”

“Nothing,” Bucky answers immediately, because it’s true. As bored as he is, he’s also pretty content. He can easily find whatever he wants on his own. He looks the two humans up and down slowly. Perhaps later he’ll find someone to sleep with. Hell, maybe he’ll change form and seduce one of them.

“There’s got to be something,” the blond insists helplessly. “After all he’s done for us, we should be able to help him too. I can’t let him die like this. I’ve only just gotten him...”

Bucky watches as the brunet turns to look at the blond, trying to be reassuring even though he also looks a little heartbroken. Oh. How interesting. It’s so obvious the brunet is in love with the other human, is perhaps also in love with other person they’re speaking of, as the darkness clinging to him intensifies just a little.

Love me, his aura begs so softly, so pleadingly. I’m here. Love me too. Please, I’m here, please love me back. It’s sad, for all that it’s delicious, and Bucky licks his lips at the agony that the blond can’t see.

The brunet notices, eyes sharp and calculating. “What about me?” he asks, and starts to reach into the circle.

Bucky raises his eyebrows in surprise, but anything he’d say is covered up by the blond grabbing his hand before it can break through, angrily snapping, “He’s not going to take you, Tony.” The brunet, Tony, looks hurt by the words. The blond immediately backtracks, changing his grip on Tony’s hand to something gentler. “Tony, you agreed to stop putting yourself in destructive situations. Come on. Look at him, obviously he’d take you, but you can’t just--we’ve been working on this, Tony...”

Bucky watches, enthralled, as the darkness clinging to Tony grows inkier with shame and jealousy. From what he’d seen, humans had melted down or harmed themselves with less darkness, and here this man stood, not crying or moving, just drowning in his shame and anger. Bucky wonders how he tastes, wants to put his mouth on him and sate himself with it.

“Clint,” a voice croaks out from behind a closed door, and Bucky stares at it, because that’s the croak of a dying man. Whoever is behind the door has weeks at most, a day or two at the least. No wonder they’d called on him for help.

The blond, Clint, gives Tony a long look. “Don’t do--anything you would do if you were alone,” he says, before disappearing behind the door as well.

Tony watches him go, and the darkness clinging to him deepens with longing.

“I could give you that,” Bucky purrs, and watches the human jump. “I could love you like you want to be loved.”

Tony brightens a little, then frowns. “No. You’re not capable of love.”

“I am,” Bucky says gently, letting his gaze soften. “I can love. I can love you, Tony. Don’t you want to be loved like Clint is?” Tony bites his bottom lip, and Bucky moves closer, pressing his hands to the edge of the circle. “Don’t you want to have your feelings returned, Tony? I can love you so deeply, sweetheart. I can give you what you want.”

Tony squirms, looking at the door before turning back at Bucky. “Demons--they’re not capable of love,” he tries to insist, but his voice shakes.

“Oh, no, sweetheart,” Bucky coos, honey dripping from his voice. “That’s the problem. We’re too capable of love. We love so deeply, over centuries. I could love you, dear, if you’d just let me. I could help you forget all the times you’ve been looked over, ignored, forgotten. I can give you all the things you’ve ever desired--love, affection, kindness. Everything that the world has cruelly withheld from you, Tony, I can give you that.”

“...I can’t have your word on that,” Tony whispers.

Bucky leans as close as he can, cooing, “Oh, honey, you can. I’ll promise you anything you want. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you. I’ll cut out my heart and put it in your hands, if that’s what you want. Just please treat it tenderly. It’s more sensitive without the protection of my chest.”

Tony looks back at the door again, but his body has turned away from it unconsciously. He looks back at Bucky and is obviously trying not to sound as hopeful as he feels. “Would you promise to heal Steve? To make sure that he and Clint have long, happy lives together?”

“Of course,” Bucky answers.

“Would you promise that I’d be the only one?” he asks. “That you wouldn’t take more humans? So I wouldn’t have to share you?”

“I wouldn’t want to share you either,” Bucky agrees. “Of course.”

“Would you promise not to hit me? Would you promise that you’d never hurt me?” Tony whispers, trembling--with fear, with excitement, with desire and desperation.

“Do love-bites count as hurting, dear? Couldn’t I leave the occasional nip to show everyone that you belong to me?” Bucky coos. “So that no one could take you from me? So that you’d be mine, and mine alone?”

That seems to strike a chord in the human, eyes wide and aching, as he reaches out toward him again, fingers skimming the edge of the circle.

“TONY,” a voice bellows, and the door bursts open, and a man, small and skinny and sickly stands there, looking furious.

Bucky shrinks back, hisses angrily when Tony’s hand jerks away from the circle.

“Steve,” Tony whispers, voice shaking with fright.

“Are you stupid,” Steve snarls, and Tony flinches, takes a step backward, away from Steve and toward the circle.

Bucky looks down at the human’s feet, then looks back up, hissing at the blond threateningly, because he’s always been skilled at the fiddle. “He’s not stupid. He’s so clever. Look how well he did the circle. Only a clever human could do this.”

“Only an idiot would summon a demon!” Steve insists angrily, and Tony takes another step backward, shaking.

“Don’t say that, Stevie,” Bucky simpers, pressing to the edge of the circle again. “Every summoning I’ve answered has always had a desperate human on the other side of it. Foolish? Perhaps, but always without anywhere else to turn. Where would you have them go, when everything else has forsaken them?”

“They’re not. Forsaken. Tony, come here,” Steve orders.

Tony hesitates, hugging himself.

“Why do that, Tony?” Bucky whispers so only he can hear it. “What do they have to offer you? He’s only out here because he’s angry. I’d take care of you, sweetheart. I’d love you. Don’t you want to be loved?”

“Tony,” Clint says, voice trembling. “Please come away from the circle. We’ll talk about this. Come back.”

Tony’s silent for a moment before his shoulders slump.

Bucky nearly pounds on the circle in rage, bearing his teeth. No. No. He was so close. Tony was almost his. He glares at Clint over Steve’s shoulder, then smirks, smug. “Back to what? A dying man? Stevie has days at most.”

Clint looks crushed, and Tony makes a tiny, pained gasping sound. Steve lets out a roar that’s all inhuman anger and righteousness, darting toward them on legs that shouldn’t have the strength to even be able to stumble to their knees, and Tony lets out a terrified yelp as he steps backward.

His heel breaks the circle, and Bucky grabs him, snarling victoriously and dragging him back further into the circle. His delighted cackling covers Tony’s scream of terror as he drags him back through the portal with him.

.-.-.-.

They hadn’t made a deal. But Bucky’s powers can’t touch an angel unless they allow it, so he wouldn’t have been able to heal Steve anyway.

“Steve was an angel?” Tony whispers into Bucky’s chest, tears still clinging to his lashes.

“Looked like a guardian angel,” Bucky confirms.

“Oh,” Tony says sadly. “He must have been Clint’s.”

Bucky doesn’t tell him that Steve was probably his guardian angel, too. Steve was run ragged, so much that he couldn’t take time to rest and heal, and it’s clear from the pale spots still dotting the darkness over Tony that he’d spent a lot of time and effort on him alone. There’s darker spots, too, true despair that should have killed him but he’d been dragged back out of. Steve looked like that because of Tony, not because of Clint.

“I loved them,” Tony whispers, like it’s a shameful secret, like Bucky didn’t know that just by looking at him. “And no matter what I did, they’d look at me like I made them tired, or sad. I couldn’t make them happy no matter how hard I tried. I was always their disaster friend that they had to take time out of their days taking care of.”

“I’m sure you weren’t that much of a disaster,” Bucky offers.

“No, I was,” Tony says miserably. “Maybe this really is better for everyone. At least when you get tired of me, you can eat me or something.”

Bucky nearly chokes. “I don’t eat people!”

“You can find someone to eat me, then,” Tony suggests. “Then I won’t make anyone tired or annoyed ever again.”

The darkness that covers Tony starts to taste sour, but Bucky doesn’t tell him that.

Tony expects torture, expects to be hurt, especially since Bucky didn’t actually make any promises, only said that he would. “I’m a hedonist, doll, not a monster,” Bucky explains patiently. “Most demons my age don’t care for eating humans. Just the really old ones that you can outrun and the really young ones that you can basically kick off of you when you feel them gnawing.” Tony giggles wetly, reluctantly amused, and wipes his eyes.

“Of course, if you want me to hurt you, I can be persuaded,” Bucky adds with a lecherous smile, and the human laughs again. It’s a good look on him.

Bucky shows him how to kick the younger demons to get them to leave him alone and it’s only then that Bucky really considers that Tony’s humanity might be a problem--he doesn’t kick hard enough.

“I don’t want to hurt them,” Tony says sadly.

“Tony, most of them are going to be eaten before they hit puberty,” Bucky tries to explain.

Tony looks up at him with wide, watery eyes. “But they’re so little and cute, like a lizard and a chicken had a baby.”

One of the little demons squawks, offended.

“Clearly you have never met a chicken,” Tony tells it imperiously.

“I think it’s upset you called it small,” Bucky offers.

Tony squats down to pat the ugly little thing on the head. “You’re really ugly,” he tells the demon. “But it’s kind of cute.”

The little demon puffs its chest out. Bucky thinks it’s gearing up for a really angry shriek (those take effort in the younger demons), but all it does is strut around proudly. He can’t tell if the thing is smug because it was called ugly or cute and he honestly doesn’t want to know.

“Come on,” Bucky says gruffly, because seeing Tony be kind and gentle with the younger demons is doing weird things to his feelings.

Tony never gets the hang of kicking them, but that’s okay, because most of them like him somehow. And hell, the ones that didn’t were always ganged up on by the ones that did.

Bucky figures he’ll just keep Tony close so that he can protect him because his heart’s softer than a beanbag.

.-.-.-.

Tony is a dream, so hot and slick and tight. He whines just right, whimpers in a way that makes Bucky want to surround him, keep him safe from everything. So many of the other demons are jealous, and Bucky thrives on it, whispers endearments and affection into Tony’s ear until he revels in being wanted, feeling powerful and desirable. He clings to Bucky’s horns, the bases of his wings, leaves long scratches down his back and bloody bite marks on Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky loves it.

Bucky loves him.

So when he’s forcibly dragged back to the human plane by two familiar faces, he’s livid.

“You had your chance!” he thunders. “He’s mine now! Mine! You can’t have him! He’s mine!”

Steve, big and broad and buff now, snarls and leaps for the summoning circle in a flash of shiny feathers. Bucky surges to meet him. There’s a dazzling flash as he’s thrown backward with great force, slamming into the opposite wall. Bucky would laugh except he’d ricocheted around the summoning circle like a goddamn pinball.

“Tony!” Clint exclaims, running for the circle and reaching out for him, but Steve lunges to yank him back with a hiss. “Steve!” he snaps, struggling in his grip.

“DO NOT. Go into the circle,” Steve hisses, then looks back at it, gently saying, “Tony, honey, come here. Come out of the circle.”

Tony peeks out from behind Bucky, frowning. “But…”

“Come out of the circle,” Steve repeats softly. “Come on, Tony. You don’t have to stay with him anymore. We can help you.”

“You can’t help him, you never could,” Bucky snarls, wings swinging out to hide the human from view. “He’s mine now. I’ve had him every which way you can have a human. It’s not my fault you’re poor losers.”

Clint looks stricken. “Tony.”

“He didn’t force me,” Tony explains helplessly. “I wanted--I just wanted--”

Bucky curls his tail around Tony and tugs him close, smug. “He wanted to be wanted, and I gave that to him. You didn’t and now you’re jealous.”

“Tony, come on,” Clint says, smiling shakily. “You don’t really want to be with him, do you? Let’s talk about this, okay? I’ll make those pancakes you like so much.”

Tony looks torn, huddling up against Bucky’s side as he whispers, “But he loves me.”

“Demons are not capable of love!” Steve snarls immediately.

“I’m more capable than you!” Bucky snarls back.

Tony at least has the sense to duck this time when they both leap at each other and collide with the edge of the summoning circle.

“CUT IT OUT,” Clint bellows, and Steve mulishly doesn’t leap at the circle again. Bucky hisses and bares his teeth before curling around Tony again. “...Let’s talk this out like rational adults,” Clint says after a deep breath breath. “We can figure this out. Okay?”

Steve makes an incredibly horrifying hissing sound at Bucky before curling his wings around Clint protectively. “Okay,” he answers begrudgingly.

“No,” Bucky answers loudly, angry. “I was just about to eat and I’m hungry.”

“What do you eat?” Clint asks, sighing.

“Tony’s ass, usually,” Bucky says, and it’s worth Tony screeching at him to see Clint and Steve flush.

.-.-.-.

Clint cries when he finds out that Tony was in love with him. The ugly kind, with heaving sobs and splotchy cheeks and snot everywhere. Tony looks miserable and tugs at Bucky’s arm and asks to leave.

“We can’t, sweetheart,” Bucky informs him gently. “I have to make a deal or hear them out.”

“But I didn’t tell Clint on purpose,” Tony sniffs. “He was so happy with Steve. If I’d said anything I would have just ruined it, and then they both would have hated me.”

“Tony,” Steve chokes out, dismayed, and Bucky actually feels a little bad for how distraught the angel looks. He’d clearly poured so much time and energy and power into Tony in an attempt to heal him, to the point where he nearly drove himself out of existence, and it hadn’t worked.

He’s still pretty smug, though, that he’s clearly done more for Tony than the angel had.

Steve must see it too, because his jaw clenches and the look he gives Bucky is of pure hatred. Bucky preens a little.

“But I love you too,” Clint sobs, and Tony goes still at the demon’s side. “Why do you think we tried so hard to help you, Tony? I wanted you to stay close, even if it was just as a friend. Every time you went back to the bottle or drugs to try and make yourself numb and we pulled you back out wasn’t because we felt sorry for you. It was because I loved you.”

This… this might be a problem, Bucky thinks after a moment.

.-.-.-.

Clint tries to make a deal but every time he opens his mouth to make one, Steve makes an inhuman sound to cover his words so that even Bucky can’t hear it, like glass breaking and nails on a chalkboard and every animal roar all rolled into one.

“Give him back,” Steve snarls when Clint falls silent. “You stole him. Give him back.”

“First of all, he came into the circle, I didn’t step out, so you can’t say I stole him if he stepped in. I took an offering. Also! Tony’s a person who can make his own choices,” Bucky says imperiously, even though he’s taking the world’s biggest gamble, because he’s giving Tony a choice now and it’s possible that Tony won’t choose him. “That’s what free will was all about, right?”

Steve makes a frustrated sound and glares at him but grinds out, “Yes, it was.”

Tony gives Clint a look, longing and mournful and disappointed, but he also feels more content now than he’s ever felt in his life (except maybe that one time, when Clint had crawled into a hospital bed with him, and promised to be there for him when he needed, when the wounds on Tony’s arms were still raw and tender, and Clint’s promise had felt a lot like love he’d never gotten before). Bucky lets him do whatever he wants back in Hell, even if it’s cooing over the baby demons, and patiently listens when Tony babbles on and on, trying to understand but mostly failing but not caring that he feels stupid at all.

“Are you happy, Tony?” Clint asks, elbowing Steve when he tries to squawk a negative in outrage. “Does he make you happy?”

Tony, looking down at his feet under the angel’s incredulous gaze, whispers, “Yes.”

Clint reaches out, and Tony shyly extends his hand over the edge of the circle, letting him hold it without stepping inside himself. “You look happier,” Clint admits softly. “And if you’re happy, I’m happy for you. But I don’t want to never see you again. Can’t I see you again?”

Tony looks up at Bucky pleadingly, all big, wet eyes and trembling lip because even with how short their time together has been, the demon is a sucker for him.

Bucky sighs, gritting his teeth as he glares at Steve, before finally saying, “I’m… sure that something could be arranged.” The way Tony perks up at the admission is worth it, even if the angel opposite him looks incredibly smug about it.

It feels a lot like a custody arrangement, but Tony and Clint are happy with it, so Bucky and Steve keep their mouths shut.

.-.-.-.

If Tony had thrived under Bucky’s attention, he absolutely blooms under Clint’s additional care. He smiles more, is more animated even when he and Bucky are alone, smiling and happy. Steve says nothing, but he relaxes the more they all hang out together, and Bucky gets the feeling that Clint might be smiling for Steve more, too.

Still, neither Bucky nor Steve are prepared to see Clint turn from chopping some carrots to cup Tony’s cheeks and draw him into a kiss. Tony makes a startled little keening noise before leaning into the kiss, tipping his head accommodatingly, until they’re both panting and moaning quietly into each other’s mouths.

They only break apart at the sound of shattering glass, startled, and Tony shrinks when he sees the glass shards sunk into Steve’s palm, looking guiltily between him and Bucky.

“Look what you did,” Bucky hisses at Steve angrily, and he’d be lying if he said it was entirely because of how sad Tony looked.

“Hng,” Steve replies dumbly.

Tony and Clint eye Steve for a moment, nervous and contemplative in turn, before Clint carefully curls his hands over Tony’s hips and leans in to press a few nibbling kisses to his throat that make Tony whimper and press back against him.

“Steve!” Tony cries, distraught, as the angel collapses. “I’m sorry!”

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” Bucky says, leaning over him and seriously considering just destroying him while he’s down, then has to do a double take. “Hell’s bells,” he says gleefully. “He came so hard he passed out.”

Bucky tries to convince Tony and Clint to keep going, but Tony is a fretter, and Clint is a follower, so he sighs and helps get Steve laid out on the couch. He does have to admit that it’s pretty adorable when Tony insists on putting a cool cloth over Steve’s forehead, and Clint gamely wets one for him.

Steve comes to a few minutes later with a breathless ‘oh lord I came so hard I went blind.’

This is the best day of his life, Bucky decides gleefully, and informs Steve that he has a washcloth over his eyes.

Steve gets his revenge when they come back from buying cake to find Clint bouncing on Tony’s cock and Bucky trips over nothing and lands face-first into the cake he was holding with a splat.

“My cake!” Tony whines.

Clint draws his attention back to him with a kiss and murmurs, “Guess you’ll just hafta lick it off of him. What a shame.” Tony seems very on-board with this and lets himself be drawn into the kiss.

Steve wonders if he could get away with smearing Clint’s cake all over himself, too, but Bucky looks incredibly uncomfortable with how sticky he is, and honestly, getting the frosting out of his feathers is probably a chore anyway. Steve can just feed Clint his cake with a fork. He likes doing that anyway.

.-.-.-.

Steve and Bucky never really “get along,” but they manage to tolerate each other for their humans’ sakes. It helps that they’re rewarded with kisses and… other favors.

“Still, you guys could at least show off for us once in a while,” Clint mutters petulantly.

Tony lifts his head and makes an interested noise.

“Ugh,” Bucky begins, but cuts himself off with a keening noise when Steve buries his hands in his black feathers and tugs just the right way that Bucky drops to his knees and whines helplessly, at his mercy.

“Wings can be a huge erogenous zone if you know where and how to touch,” Steve explains when he notices Clint and Tony gaping at him.

Bucky gets his revenge by making Steve hump against his thigh uselessly as he fondles his wings in return.

And, well, Steve’s not so bad. Rigid, maybe, because of his beliefs, but open to discussion if you approach him the right way. It helps that Steve admits he was jealous in the beginning, still is a little, because he’d spent so much time and effort and energy and even himself on Tony, and Bucky had so easily and quickly helped Tony when Steve had nearly died trying to do the same thing. Bucky supposes he can respect that. Even now, sometimes Tony’s mood just drops, and Bucky can’t do anything about it. He can’t imagine the struggle of having to choose between charges and then watching as your powers do little to nothing to improve the one you chose.

He doesn’t tell Steve that he just lets Tony be sad, and angry, and despairing, until Tony decides he’s tired of being depressed and shoves the feelings down again. It is, unfortunately, an angel’s nature to try and fix things. Bucky decides to give him just a little more leeway, because he can’t imagine how it feels to fail someone like Steve failed Tony.

It sure is something to be protected by Steve when hunters come after him, though.

“You make Tony happy, is all, and if Tony’s happy, then Clint’s happy,” Steve mutters, blushing a little when Bucky gapes up at him. “They’d be sad if you were destroyed, so I had to protect you. That’s all. Don’t put so much stock in this.”

“I’m telling Tony and Clint you like me,” Bucky answers immediately, and dodges Steve’s outraged swipe gleefully. “I’m telling them. You like me! Just for this, I’ll let you watch me fuck Tony with my tail. One time he rode me so hard I was chafed for days, the greedy little thing.”

Steve mutters to himself petulantly, but, well. He’s noticed Bucky’s tail, too. Maybe he does want to see it in action.

It still takes a lot of enthused convincing from both Tony and Clint before he lets Bucky use that tail on him, though.

[feelingsinwinter]

The Moutain’s Crown - Chapter 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

The Mountain’s Crown was beautiful in more ways than Steve had thought it would ever be.

At first, when he had seen it as they were running away from Tony’s house, it was nothing but a path to go through until they could reach a safe place. Some shelter. Far away from there. He’d seen round hills and thought about the difficulty they would put on their way. The grass, thick and fat, was just a long mat that could cover anything to make them trip. The sky, wide and open, had been clear and the kind of blue poets were talking about in their odes.

Far away was the tree’s cover. It had seem so far away at the moment, almost unreachable. Not that it would have kept Steve from trying anyway. Clint’s safety depended of him and as soon as Clint was safe, Steve would have come back to help and support Bucky.

At the time, the Crown was nothing but a hostile ground, full of unknown threat and too much open space.

Since then, however, everything had changed.

The Crown had gone from threat to workplace, and from there had become a home. The house, huge and still under construction felt safe and open, ready to welcome him each time he went through its doors. What had been cold, unforgiving stone was now the proof of how hard Tony worked. Each day brought new marks, scattered all over the house, telling Tony had been the one building it. With his bare hands and maybe the help of his friends.

[Beware the read more ! <3]

The way the wood had been carved and worked spoke not only of hard work but also of love and patience. Each scar draw in the wood, a story Tony was nothing but happy to tell with grand gestures and happy smiles.

The Crown felt safer than their home had ever felt, back in the Kingdom. Safer and happier.

There was no one, here, to stare at Bucky with judging, wary eyes. Nobody to point at Clint and whispers stories where nobody could tell the truth from the lie, but kept on spreading them anyway.

No one to look at Steve and smile eagerly with a wave, with an invitation for him to dinner or breakfast and none for Bucky or Clint. Nothing expected of him aside from feeding the dogs and being scolded by Tony for indulging them too much. All the while being himself flooded by an army of over excited war dogs morphed into puppies as soon as Tony was in licking distance.

The Crown had everything to offer. Bucky had never seem as happy and relaxed as he did now that he didn’t felt as threatened as he had in those first few days. Clint… Clint could probably live anywhere and everywhere as long as he had them with him but the Crown had soothed some of the hurt and erased the frown he had, more often than not, when they were at the capital city.

Now the hills looked like open arms, invitation to roam around, discovering new places with the same awe he had felt the first days. The forest casted a welcomed shadow on sunny days and was peaceful most of the time.

Tony had warned them about wild animals that could still attack but all of them knew their way around a forest and Steve had never felt threatened despite walking by a bear and catching a glimpse of a pack of wolves not so far from the Crown’s “borders”.

They felt at home.

The house, though, wasn’t the only thing that had grown on them.

“We need to tell him,” Clint said out of the blue, jaw set and arms crossed.

He was staring at them, determination written across his face.

“Tell him what?” Steve asked from where he was sitting on the bed, trying to understand what he had fucked up in his knitting project. Again. He was bound to go to Tony for some help and explanation about what he had done wrong this time.

Clint was a perfect distraction for the disappointment mixed with hope and expectation at the prospect of spending some more time with Tony. A very serious distraction, though, judging by the way Clint was glaring at him from across their room.

Worry started to bloom in Steve’s chest but it faded quickly when Clint flashed his teeth at him in a beaming smile.

“That we’re in love with him, of course!”

The words took a handful of seconds before Steve registered them but he felt himself flushed deeply, the tip of his ears burning as he spluttered, mind struggling with half a dozen things he wanted to say and mouth unable to say any of them.

Hope, horror and fear were warring inside Steve’s head and none of them seemed able to win or dominate the others.

The fear made him glance at Bucky but he discovered that Bucky wasn’t doing any better. Where Steve had started a contest with tomatoes, Bucky had spectacularly blanched and stared at Clint.

“Oh come on guys, don’t try and tell me you didn’t realized it?”

Clint’s smug face slightly diminished Steve’s dread but could only do so much. When the Clint’s grin faded ever so slightly, though, Steve felt his insides coiled tighter.

“You realized we were all in love with him, right?”

As he glanced at one and the other, Clint’s grin faded entirely.

“I-I knew,” Bucky said urgently, unable to handle Clint’s disappointed face. “But…”

“No but,” Clint belied with a scowl, “you just refuse to let it be. You did the same with me because you felt guilty about Steve, you thought you were betraying him.”

“I don-”

“You do,” Clint countered with a frown, glaring daggers at Bucky.

“Will you stop cutting me, you little s-”

“When you’ll stop being a stubborn pain in the ass, you moro-”

“Stop!” Steve shouted, setting his knitting project aside.

Bucky had clenched his fists, lips tightly pursed and a muscle on his jaw was twitching every so often. His eyes, a moment ago wide and shining were now cold and burning with anger. While Clint was on the receiving end of it, he wasn’t the one responsible of it. If Bucky was good at one thing, it was for hating himself.

“We should discuss this,” Steve said calmly, despite the weight sitting heavily on his stomach. “Shouting insults won’t help.”

Clint glared at Bucky a second longer before his shoulders dropped and he averted Bucky’s. “I thought you knew.”

“… I knew,” Bucky sighed as he rubbed his left shoulder. “I was just being-”

“An ass,” Clint finished with a small smile. “Yeah, you were.”

“Smartass,” Bucky muttered, shoving Clint gently, smiling softly if a little warily.

Bucky glanced at the door, clearly wishing he could go out and leave the hard part behind but knew he couldn’t. Their relationship was based on communication and they were far from their first year of polyamory where everything had been hell and hard learned lessons. They had learn from their mistakes, the hurt they had inflicted to each other that they could have avoided if they had talked. It didn’t make it easier for any of them, though.

They all had their moments. Sometimes Clint was the one opening up the conversation, like he did with this one, sometimes it was Steve and Bucky had been the starting point of a few of them. They’d learn. And while they still didn’t like it, they knew it was the best way to dodge lost arrows. Love could be like a battlefield, Steve thought. If the team’s members didn’t work together and communicate, it was bound to fail.

They made it work, through pains and fears, angers and uncertainty, they went a long way from their starting point. They would make it work this time too.

Clint and Bucky made their way to Steve’s bed, sitting cross legged on each side of it. They all traded looks and meaningful glances, until Steve got tired of it.

“So-”

“You sketched him and Bucky cuddled him!” Clint rushed, as if he only had been waiting for someone to start the conversation so he could give his proofs.

Thing was… he wasn’t wrong, no matter how Clint’s way of saying it could be pegged as childish.

Steve had found Bucky cuddling Tony, curled up and entangled to the point where it had been hard to tell where one began and where the other ended. Had found them in a similar position more than once.

Usually, Bucky wasn’t much of a cuddler. He could tolerate a hug here and there, a few touches from time to time only from people he liked but there was something important about his personal space. It felt like an invisible wall stood all around him, keeping everyone at arm’s length and out of his way. Be it with one of his deadly glare or his general appearance, Bucky rarely let others approach him, let alone touch him.

Except where his lovers were concerned. Then it was another thing entirely.

It was a dead giveaway, indeed. Why Steve hadn’t linked the dots was a mystery. He’d been the first one telling Clint about how much of a big deal it was for Bucky to cuddle so openly with him when Clint had started doubting about Bucky’s feelings. The beginning had been rough for all of them. Bucky was still working on his recovery and there were days where he could barely hold himself together, Clint had doubted himself more than once since he was the one entering a pre-established relationship. Steve, for his part, had felt like he was losing Bucky and Clint and had had to fight two wars at once. One against the voice telling him he should leave them before they did, another one screaming at him to double his efforts. While the latter seemed like the best part, pushing himself on them wasn’t the solution. He had to give them space and time to heal, they all needed to find their grounds and how the relationship would work.

It had been tedious and difficult but the reward was ten times worth it all. They healed, they learned and they still loved each other.

While the meaning of Bucky’s cuddling habits with Tony had escaped him, Steve thought, his own hadn’t.

It was hard to keep himself from glancing to the side, where his sketchbook laid. Steve knew himself well enough to know he sketched what he loved and what he liked. It could be landscapes or tools of everyday, some people in their daily tasks but on most pages were Bucky and Clint in any and every situation.

Steve sketched what he loved.

The last pages of his sketchbook were filled with either Bucky or Clint but Tony had sneaked in there too. Laughing as Birdy decided Tony was a fine nest to lie on, pinning him to the ground. Focused on his task as he took care of a wolf whose paw had been severely injured by a trap. The very same wolf as it slept with its head in Tony’s lap. Tony and Clint, lying on the ground and stargazing. Clint was pointing at something in the sky but Tony only had eyes for Clint, gaze intense and wondering. Tony and Bucky cleaning the horses’ stables together, this one had a next part where they were wrestling on the floor like kids, hay sticking out of their clothes and hair.

“You talked to him,” Bucky pointed at Clint, eyebrow raised.

Clint frowned, confused, until the light shown in his eyes. He stared at Bucky, not angry or wounded, just surprised. “You heard us?”

“No,” Bucky started, before correcting himself. “Yes. Kinda. I was passing by when I heard you say his name. I didn’t linger, I didn’t want to spy on you, it wasn’t my intention.”

“I know,” Clint said with a small smile, before flopping face first on the bed and crawling until his head rested in Bucky’s lap. “I don’t mind,” he added with an awkward shrug, considering his current position, “you already know everything about it. I’m just surprised I didn’t see you.”

“It was at night,” Bucky explained, looking between Clint’s eyebrows instead of his eyes.

“Ah,” Clint said, like it explained everything. With a small smile, he grabbed Bucky by the neck and pulled him in for a kiss, smile lingering and gaining Bucky’s lips. They were both smiling when they came up for air and Steve had to remind himself about their current conversation and the need for an answer.

“That means we’re all in love with Tony?”

“Yup!”

Bucky hummed his approval, still licking his lips and looking relaxed now that he knew Clint wouldn’t be angry with him about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“And we want to include him?”

Bucky looked straight at him, his smile losing some of its calmness to gain in sharpness. The asshole wasn’t fooled by Steve’s choice of words and was letting him know.

“That we do,” Bucky purred, his foot nudging Steve’s thigh, crawling slowly upward until it was pressed flat against Steve’s cock. “I saw you staring, handsome, wanna join us?”

Clint perked up, his eyes taking on a mischievous glint as he took in the outline of Steve’s hardening cock and Bucky’s predatory smile.

So much for a serious conversation, Steve thought as a smile curled his lips.

[massivespacewren]

My gift for @akira-of-the-twilight for the Winteriron Holiday Exchange 2016! I hope you like it! The first picture is supposed to be more of a colour sketch because I didn't have time anymore.... I'm sorry only one of them is finished!You reblogged a post about Dragons glowing on the inside, and I couln't resist! :D I imagined a huge plot in a fantasy AU, where Tony is a dragon and Bucky gets sacrificed to the dragon. After some misunderstandings, they get to know each other and are very close, and Tony might count Bucky as part of his hoard.Then Steve and Clint show up to slay the dragon and save Bucky. Tony of course thinks he needs to protect Bucky from the people attacking them! (Picture 1)After all the misunderstandings are cleared up, they all end up in a relationship together (and Tony builds Bucky a metal arm). (Picture 2) On AO3 HERE

[starkspangledwinterhawkmonth]

While I'm Here (6455 words) by SierraNovembr Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Clint Barton/Steve Rogers Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Additional Tags: Polyamory, OT4, starkspangledwinterhawk, sswh2018, Uniform Kink, Steve POV, Steve Sandwich, Smut Series: Part 2 of See Another Night Summary:

Clint is in uniform and had called the room to attention and someone else is walking towards Steve with confident, measured steps. Steve locks his knees against what he suspects is coming.

Recovering from Tony's recent brush with losing his memories has been a process for everyone, but today is about pleasing Steve. Tony, Clint, and Bucky surprise him and it's fantastic for everyone. Mostly.

[feelingsinwinterold]

The Mountain’s Crown - Chapter 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

There were hushed voices arguing not so far away from him. Clint could hear them despite their best effort to keep their tones low. The voices sounded familiar but despite his best efforts he couldn’t quite put names on them. Yet.

Considering the pain his head was in, he probably had hurt it and Clint was used to that kind of things. Particularly with the aftermaths and dealing with consequences. Especially those related to his boyfriends, who, now that he could put two strings of thoughts together, were the ones arguing next to the bed he was currently lying in.

The last memories Clint could muster didn’t speak of any bed, yet he was definitely lying on one. They’d been going out camping, no bed should have been involved in that. Even less when he thought back on his last memory now that he had access to it. He remembered falling off a cliff but whatever had happened after that was lost to him. The feeling of being held tight, of burning pain in his leg, of being harangued to stay awake were the last things he could remember.

While he knew waking up would mean being on the receiving end of two angry stares, Clint forced his eyes to open and had to blink back against the bright light the sun was casting through the nearest window. He groaned, instantly silencing the arguing, and raised his hand to the left side of his head, where the worst of the throbbing was located. Under his fingers was the familiar feeling of dressing wrapped around his head. He also found his hand wrapped in dressing too.

[Beware the read more]

Pushing the headache to the side, he studied the bandage with curiosity. It was clean, cleaner than any he ever had, and perfectly done. It fitted his hand, keeping his fingers free all the while keeping pressure probably in the right places since he didn’t know exactly what he had to warrant the dressing.

“None of you made that,” he said, cutting off Steve before he could start with his mother-henning. Bucky frowned, arms crossed over his chest, but there was nothing new about it. “Steve’s dressing are messy and Bucky’s always keep me from using my fingers. Who did this? Where are we?”

Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve sat on the right side of Clint’s bed. The sheets looked fresh, as did pretty much everything about this room. It was kinda spacious despite holding three beds. There was space for them to wander, a table on the far corner of the room with chairs. Despite having some difficulties thinking straight, it was obvious the room was only made for two beds and the third one, alike a third chair, had been added for their sake.

“We don’t know,” Steve answered reluctantly, glaring at the closed door. “We woke up here. Whoever brought us here took care of us.”

Clint raised an eyebrow, making of show of looking Steve over, then Bucky. Brooding and face closed off, Bucky had settled himself against the wall in front of the door. That way, if anyone came from it, he would be the first one to be seen, allowing Clint and Steve to take action if necessary. He would be the first one to be injured, too, Clint thought with a scowl. The bastard was always one to talk but when it came to the real shit, Bucky was as self-sacrificing as any of them. Hypocrite.

“Ok,” Steve agreed with a small smile, “they took care of you,” he rectified with a glance toward Clint’s forehead where the dressing was.

“Judging by Bucky’s caged wolf attitude and your frowny face, the door can’t be opened, can it?”

“No,” Bucky growled, face murderous. “It’s locked and the door’s thick enough that neither of us can break it without injuring ourselves.”

“And,” Steve forcefully added with a pointed look toward Bucky, “because we don’t know if they’re hostiles.”

“They locked us in, Stevie!” Bucky shouted. “I don’t know what else you need.”

And that, Clint thought, was probably the subject of their arguing. Bucky was always quick to feel threatened and backed in a corner, but Clint could relate to his cautiousness. On the other hand, if someone had taken the time to dress Clint’s wounds so carefully, they couldn’t be that bad. Especially since they were nice enough to leave them together. Whoever had done that, had had to move a bed into the room to accommodate them… and it was something. If they were intent on hurting Bucky, Steve and Clint, the best bet would have been to keep them separated and put pressure on Clint’s injured state. It was the best leverage they could get and use, but they didn’t.

“Alright,” Clint said with effort has he heaved himself upright. “Let’s see what we can do about that door.”

Before he could set a foot on the ground, though, Steve had a hand on his chest and pushed him back on the bed.

“You’re injured,” he scowled.

“Yeah, but we’re trapped and I’m not sure I’m feeling comfortable enough to let that be without at least knowing a little more about our keeper. Besides, I’m not that badly inj- What the fuck is this?”

His left ankle was held in a cast that went up to half of his shin. The pain, however, was light and he had barely registered it until he had laid eyes on it. Which was probably telling something about the drugs he must be on.

The uneasiness that had appeared when Steve had told him they were locked in grew and coiled tightly in his stomach. He was starting to feel sick. It was one thing to be slightly injured while being potentially held prisoner. It was another to be unable to run for his life if something was to happen. Steve and Bucky could probably get away without him, they were fast and had some of the best stamina Clint had ever seen. But they would never let him stay behind, not when they were unsure of his safety. No matter how Steve was giving the benefit of the doubt to the person keeping them, it was one thing to be trustful, it was another, for Steve, to trust some stranger with his boyfriend’s well being and safety. Especially in such situation.

“We need to get out,” Clint stated firmly.

It took a few minutes, but convincing Bucky and Steve to actually go along the plan proved to be easier than Clint had thought it would be. Steve must be more worried than he let on, which shouldn’t be a surprise considering Steve’s boyfriends and only family were in probable danger.

Standing on his feet, on the other hand, was harder than expected and he staggered to the door with Bucky’s help, ignoring the worried glances Steve and him were trading over Clint’s head.

While breaking the door wasn’t a possibility, picking the lock definitely was and Clint was pretty good at that. Especially with the kit he found still in his backpack. Whoever had brought them here had discarded them of their weapons but left everything else.

It didn’t take very long for the lock to be forced and for Clint to have Steve taking position under his right arm to support a part of his weight and help him walk.

The door opened, Bucky went first and made sure the hallway was empty before moving forward.

They went down the right hallway, staying close to the wall, senses in high alert. Bucky walked in front of them, footsteps light and silent, hands opened and ready to take down any opponent that might appear and threatened them.

Watching Bucky in the mindset he used while on a mission or on the battlefield was always a sight to behold. His eyes would swipe from one point to another, taking in anything and everything. Bucky’s body would moved with a purpose and fluidity it lacked the rest of the time, when  relaxed and casual.

It was no wonder that, seeing Bucky like this, always gave them the hots. The bastard knew it, though, and would use it against them from time to time, which would always give way to some of the most interesting moments of their sexual lives. The things Bucky could and would do during sex were… brilliant and amazing, and Steve and Clint would never get tired of it.

Steve jostled Clint a little, frowning at him despite his knowing smirk. “You’re staring at his butt, I’m not sure it’s what you’re supposed to watch,” he said, his frown softening and his grin only growing firmer.

In front of them, Bucky looked back at them, focused eyes like steel and razor sharp but showing a hint of smugness.

“Go back to your room,” someone said, voice firm and cold, from around the corner.

Bucky startled and whirled around, ready to jump into action but stilled entirely when his eyes landed on whoever had spoken. Clint and Steve had to move closer to be able to see the newcomer too and they understood almost immediately Bucky’s stillness.

Bucky was one hell of a soldier, the kind who had trained his entire life and had became extremely skilled. He could disarm someone fast and easy. An untrained soldier would lose his weapon in less than a few seconds, finding their hands empty without knowing how it had happened. Someone a little more use to that kind of technique would take some more time and probably require to be neutralized at the same time.

There were people, though, who were trained enough to give Bucky a hard time. The man currently in front of them was among them. His stance was perfect, his grip around his sword loose and pliant but firm and trained. The man’s eyes spoke of hard won battles, of days spent training to get to that level. Experience and confidence were written across the man’s body.

“What if we don’t?” Bucky asked, voice low and gravely, eyes never leaving the man’s face.

Without moving, his hold on his blade never weakening and his arm still despite the weight of the weapon, the man looked at Bucky. Really looked at him.

Clint was good at picking hints, at seeing things others didn’t. One of his skills was to read people like open books and his only match in that regard was Bucky, but the man staring them down from the other side of the hallway hadn’t given Clint much to work with. His face was carefully blank, aside from hard, focused eyes. They didn’t wear the same coldness Bucky’s currently, but the man had seen death and blood, probably more than most. He was wary and ready to take action if necessary but since he had choose to talk before attacking, he might be more inclined toward helping them than hurting them. Which made sense. If Clint was right, the man had helped them. Probably saved them, considering their last location.

“Listen,” the man said, a repressed sigh audible in his weary voice, “I don’t want to hurt you and I would appreciate it greatly if you could just go back to your room. I will bring you some food and water, I was coming to check on his wounds,” he pointed at Clint, “and yours,” he added to Steve who looked rightfully abashed when Bucky shot him a dirty look.

“Will you lock us up again if we come back in there peacefully?” Steve asked, watching the man closely.

For the first time since the beginning, Clint saw the man hesitating, his eyes darting ever so slightly to the side. He looked uncomfortable, maybe ashamed even, which didn’t go all that well along the possibility of him having bad intentions where Clint, Steve and Bucky were concerned. He looked also young, suddenly, probably the same age as them, barely older.

That second of hesitation was all Bucky needed.

In a blur of movements, he was on the man. Slithering along the sword’s blade, he struck sharply on the man’s wrist, making him drop the weapon. The man hold back a scream, his face going from shy and unsure to sharp and focused as he took a fought back.

His open hands and flexed knees spoke of training and competence but no matter how much Clint would have loved to stay and watch, he had to go. As soon as Bucky had made his move, Steve had steered him toward what they hoped was the exit.

As they were hurrying toward the door they could now see, the sounds of pained grunts and bodies hitting stone followed them. There wasn’t much they could really do and coming back to help Bucky would only make it worse. Bucky was perfectly capable of holding his ground against a trained opponent but if he had to worry about any of them as he fought, he would be unfocused and more likely to make a mistake. Clint was a liability and so was Steve since the man had implied he was hurt too.

Clint kept his mouth shut despite the moans and whimpers escalating his throat as the pain in his leg creeped toward unbearable levels and his arm started to burn like raging fire. They couldn’t slow down, not if the man came after them, not if it meant Bucky had to stay longer behind. The faster they put distance between them and that place, the safer they would be.

Trying to keep a tight leash on his worries and raising panic, Clint couldn’t hold back a glance over his shoulder as Steve and him barreled out of the house. From inside, he could still hear the sound of the fight. At least it meant Bucky was still alive.

Looking back in front of him, Clint discovered that the ground was going down on a slight slope. The house was built on top of a mountain and they’d have to climb down.

He had barely a second to wonder how a man, apparently alone, had managed to drag three dead weights from a cliff to that place when a roar thundered over them. Every bones in Clint’s body felt like they shattered to the sound as it went on and on, echoed by the mountains. What dropped in front of them made the earth shake and made Steve lose his balance, sending them tumbling to the floor.

Clint cried out as pain erupted from his leg but screeches and great wings slapping the wind covered the sound.

Before he could roll around and maybe take a look at what was making his whole being scream in terror, Clint felt Steve’s arms grab him and gather him against his chest. Which conveniently allowed him to face their coming death. Today, death had three sets of eyes and they were all staring angrily at them.

Towering over them in its terrifying might was the biggest wyvern Clint had ever seen. Smoke smouldering from its snout and opened maw, showing teeth as big, long and sharp as were its claws. Distantly, Clint noticed a finger was missing on the right wing and the thick leather was scarred, the angry lines spreading widely like something had tore through it. It was a wonder it had healed. Wyverns stuck on the ground never lived long enough to heal, they were quickly dealt with by scared humans or other predators. This one, though, had survived. Its great size might have helped but Clint suspected there was more to it.

On its left stood one of those creatures people were use to avoiding at all cost. Luckily, their favorite territories and nesting places were too far up the mountains to be seen or a real concern. Those crazy enough to seek roc birds were rarely to came back, if they came back at all. This one was a deep shade of pink, the color fading along its neck and head, becoming a startling white. Its primaries were the same white, a silvery glint to them, and the way the light reflected and played on them was fascinating. Clear, winter blue eyes were staring at them. While birds of prey always had a severe look to them, this one seemed ready to tear the flesh off of their bones.

On the wyvern’s right side, smaller in comparison but no less frightening in its deadly look was a griffin. Taller than a standing human, it had all the deadly part of both the lion and the eagle but bigger. While it was at first glance slightly less frightening than a wyvern or a roc bird, Clint had seen griffins hunting and killing. There was nothing that could escape a hunting griffin. They were smart and agile, while bulky, they were also lithe enough to maneuver tightly and the manoeuvres they could pull while flying were astonishing.

The wyvern would be the best choice, Clint thought. Fire or jaws of death, it would be quickly over. Clint wasn’t sure the roc or the griffin would be kind enough to let him die quickly.

Clint’s leg was sending bolt of pain through his body, pulses of agony joined by the throbbing of his arm. Steve could probably run away but the bastard wasn’t one to give up on anyone, much less his boyfriends.

Behind them, the door kicked open. The thick wood hit the stone wall in its momentum, the sound covered by the wyvern’s constant growling. The roc bird screeched loudly, spreading his wings wide but before it could do anything more than readying itself to fly, the griffin had jumped. As Steve was staring down the two resting beasts, Clint followed the winged creature and hold back an anguished scream when he found it had pinned Bucky to the ground, knocking the sword out of his hold and out of reach.

A resonating growl brought Clint’s attention back on the wyvern as it leaned toward them, promises of death glowing in its terrifying eyes.

“Trisha, don’t!”

There was a very fair probability Clint had peed himself. He turned again to watch the man tumbling out of the house, blood running down his face and a bloody hand pressed on his ribs. He stumbled over something and fell with a string of curses.

The wyvern had stilled, so had the roc bird, wings still spread wide and body coiled for action. The griffin hadn’t moved, its large, deadly beak a few inches away from Bucky’s face. The talons of its front paw had grazed Bucky’s shoulders and flanks as it pressed him onto the ground.

It took some time for the man to come back on his feet, all the while wyvern, roc bird and griffin looked like they wanted nothing more than go and help him but remained where they were. Keeping them in check, Clint guessed. At least it resolved the mystery of how a man could carry three men from one point to another, all on his own.

“Fuck, I hate humans,” the man grumbled and stumbled again, managing to stay on his feet this time. He thrust a finger at the griffin, glaring at it with all his might despite his bloody shape. “You! Don’t look so fucking angry, you’re the one who show them to me!” The griffin looked impossibly ashamed and contrite, head slightly hunched while still threatening Bucky. The roc bird folded up his wings, silent, suddenly not so mighty anymore. “Yeah, you can make yourself smaller, Birdy bird, I didn’t forget you either.” The roc’s head almost disappeared in its shoulders. The man huffed painfully, pressing his hand back against his side with a wince.

Leaving all pretense the man lowered himself to the ground and sat.

“Whatever. The cat’s out of the bag anyway,” he sighed.

“You were protecting us,” Steve tried. His arms were still tightly wrapped around Clint, holding him close to his chest. Like he could protect him against a fire breathing creature and a winged beast that could rip them to shreds without having to put too much effort into it. Which was without counting the roc bird who liked to drop its prey from the sky when it didn’t feel like hunting like a regular bird of prey.

“Nah,” the man denied with a shake of his head. He made a gesture toward the deadly creatures, fingers coated in blood from a cut up his arm, “I was protecting them.”

Shock wrote itself across Steve’s face.

“Now,” the man said, “you don’t leave me much of a choice. With a bit of waiting, you would’ve been gone and free and we’d all live happy ever after. But if I let you go now I can’t be sure I won’t see you again leading an army to us.”

“Why would we do that,” Bucky pushed out, the pressure the griffin kept on his chest making it difficult to speak.

“That’s what humans do,” the man stated, like it was the obvious answer. And a little bit like Bucky was an idiot.

“You speak like you’re not one,” Clint intervened, watching the man’s reaction closely.

“Yeah, well,” the man answered. “I’m still at a dead-end and I don’t like killing people. Much,” he added like an afterthought.

“Then don’t?” Steve tried, tightening his hold on Clint like he would on a life buoy. He was obviously pressing on the only way out he could see but it was also Steve’s nature. Despite being a soldier for years, seen things that had led men to insanity, Steve was still a strong believer in human nature. In trust and kindness, in generosity and truth. “Let us stay,” Steve added,  “and you’ll let us go when you’ll deem us trustworthy?”

“If,” the man corrected instantly.

But the look he shot Steve, incredulous but seemingly considering, had nothing on Bucky’s glare. Despite being pinned to the ground by a griffin, he looked like he would like nothing more than whack Steve’s upside the head and kick his ass for good measure.

Clint… Clint couldn’t think past the pain and the certitude he had done something real bad in a previous life to deserve so much shit in this one.

You can also find it on AO3.