#the other rpf was mostly tongue in cheek and having fun with it

[avengerscompound]

Neighbors

Neighbors - A Hawkeye Fanfic

Character pairing:  Clint Barton x F!Reader

Word Count:  3568

Warnings:  Smut (MF, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, phone sex, oral sex, vaginal sex)

Synopsis:  You move into a new apartment and discover you have a fantastic view of your very good looking neighbor.  A neighbor who not only is an Avenger but who also seems to have a very playful side.

A/N: This is a rewrite of one of my old RPF fics, so if it’s familiar that’s why.  I just liked it a lot and it worked well with Clint.  Also, normally I kinda write Clint and when I’m thinking about him I flick between comic and MCU Clint.  In this one, I was absolutely thinking about 6′4 blond dumbass Clint.

Neighbors

It had taken far too long for you to move into your new place.  It had been exhausting and awkward.  There was no elevator in this building and you were on the fifth floor, so all day you had been carrying boxes upstairs again and again.  You were finally done now, thank god.  All your stuff was still in boxes and you were eating pizza straight out of the box as you sat on the floor of your new apartment.

Things hadn’t been going great for you lately.  You’d been downsized and ended up taking a job that paid half as much.  Which meant you had to move to a smaller apartment in a worse part of town.  You’d broken up with your boyfriend.  You were trying to stay positive.  At least you had a roof over your head, even if it was water stained and only had views of the big ugly apartment block across the alley.

You finished your dinner and took a shower, washing away the sweat and muscle pain from the day.  When you got out you wrapped your towel around you and went into the bedroom.  You were about to drop your towel when you glanced out of the window and noticed there was a guy in the apartment across from you.

He was stunning and also just wearing a towel.  He was tall and muscular but in that way gymnasts were.  Lithe and slim but with defined abdominals and pecs.  His arms were amazing with the kinds of muscles men had who actually needed strong arms rather than the kind built up through lifting weights.  He looked both strong and flexible though he also wore a collection of scars and bruises that started on his cheek and went right down to his calves.

You both just stood staring at each other for a moment.  It was like you were looking in some kind of weird alternate reality mirror where your other you was a fucking sex god because you both bit your bottom lips at the same time, startled suddenly, and then rushed to pull the blinds closed.

As you got them closed a sudden realization hit you.

That was Hawkeye.

You kept seeing him from time to time in the apartment across from you.  You would try not to stare - or at least you’d be subtle about it if you did.  The next time you both really noticed each other, you were mostly moved in.  The few remaining boxes were stacked in the corner and you had started to think of the place as your own.  You were in your bedroom putting away one more box when your favorite party song came on your playlist.  You tried not to dance.  You really did.  You failed and started shaking your ass as you spun around the room.  You were having a lot of fun until you spun around and saw Clint Barton holding a cup of coffee and laughing.

He put the cup down and gestured for you to continue and you shook your head.  He made a pleading gesture and you decided to have a little fun.  If Hawkeye wanted to see you dance then you’d give him a show.  You started to gyrate your hips slowly, popping them with every few beats.  You slid your hand down from your throat, over your breasts, and took the hem of your t-shirt in your hand as you looked over at him.  He nodded enthusiastically and you lifted it over your head and tossed it to the side.  You continued to move around the room and started to play with the buttons on your pants as you kept eye contact with him.

His eyes darkened and he ran his tongue over his bottom lip.  He leaned one hand against the window frame and he shoved his other hand in his pocket.  He nodded at you to continue and you unbuttoned your shorts.  You then grabbed the cord to your blinds and pulled them closed.  Just as they flipped closed you saw him throw his arm in the air and yell, ‘Oh, come on!’  You couldn’t help but laugh.

The next time you saw him you’d been out drinking and you’d come home very late.  You didn’t even bother turning any lights on, you’d just stumbled into your bedroom and flopped on the bed.  The light from the apartment across from yours was on.  You looked over with your eyes narrowed.  The light coming through was annoying but not annoying enough to get out of bed and close your blinds.

Clint was lying on his own bed.  He was completely naked and stroking his cock.  It was weird.  He was so far away but it was like you were seeing everything in high definition.  You could see the scar on his bicep shift as his muscles flexed and released.  You could see the head of his cock appear and disappear as his hand pumped it.  You could see the veins and tendons of his forearm twist and flex as he moved his hand up and down.  You could see his chest rise and fall as his breathing got shallower and shallower.  You could see his face distort with pleasure as he brought himself closer and closer to orgasm.

Your cunt flooded and you found yourself toying with your clit without even realizing it.  Just when you realized how fucking creepy you were being and that you needed to stop what you were doing and go and close the blinds - he came.  White ropes spilled onto his hand and stomach.

You had never felt as simultaneously terrible and turned on in your life.

A few days later a heatwave hit the city.  There was no air conditioning in your apartment and you opened your windows to the sounds of the city, coaxing a breeze in.  You spent the day in your underwear in front of your only fan, wishing you were anywhere else on the planet right now.

You weren’t the only one.  You had been dozing in front of your fan and when you opened your eyes you saw Clint looking over at you.  He was dressed in a pair of boxers with Deadpool on them and that was it.  He was glistening with sweat and holding a glass of ice water.  He smiled and waved at you and you raised your hand in return.

He mouthed the words ‘it’s futzing hot’ to you and fanned his face with his hand.

You mouthed ‘you are’ back and pointed at him.

He laughed and shook his head, pointing back at you.

Your face somehow got hotter than it already was.

Clint took an ice cube from his glass and ran it over his collarbone and down between his pecs.  You didn’t think he was doing it for your benefit, it’s just that it was really fucking hot.  But even still, it made you bite your bottom lip and your cunt tingled.

You saw him laugh and you let your lip go.  He pointed at you.  You knew exactly what he wanted.  You held up your finger and padded off to the kitchen, getting yourself your own glass of ice.  When you returned to the window, you took out a cube and sucked on it before sliding it down your neck and over your collarbone.  The water from the ice ran down your skin and into your bra making your nipples harden.

Clint nodded and you took another cube and ran it under your breasts and over your stomach, swirling over your belly button.  His eyes stayed glued to you and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.

You took the last remnants of the cube and ran it over the top of your bra.  You reached behind your back and looked at him.  He nodded just once and you unhooked your bra and slid it off.  You both just stood there staring at each other.  His underwear was beginning to tent due to an obvious erection but it was like neither of you knew what to do now.  He suddenly jumped and grabbed a t-shirt from the floor.  He looked at you and mouthed the word ‘sorry’ as he pointed to the door.

A couple of days later you got home from a work dinner, kicked off your shoes, and headed to your bedroom.  You took off your jacket and hung it in your wardrobe and you saw Clint lying on his bed, eating some pizza.

You went to your light switch and flicked it on and off.  He looked over to you and grinned, getting up off the bed.  He leaned against the window frame and crossed one leg over the other.  He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt with a purple target on it.  He waved and raised an eyebrow at you.

You started unbuttoning your blouse, keeping eye contact with him.  He smiled and pulled his shirt off over his head.  You tossed your blouse to the side and shimmied out of your skirt.  You didn’t know why, maybe you’d been hoping for this, but you’d dressed in matching black lace underwear with a garter and sheer black stockings.  When he saw you his eyes went wide and you could clearly see him say the word ‘fuck’.

Clint pushed his sweatpants down and kicked them aside and you both just stood staring at each other.  You began to tease your fingers over your breasts, flicking your nipples through the lace of your bra.

Clint mouthed ‘take it off’ to you.  You gave him a half-smile and unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side.  You started squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples.  Clint just watched you, his tongue poking out between his lips.

You pointed at him and mouthed ‘your turn’.

He teased his hand over his cock through his boxers and gave you a look like he was asking for permission.  You ran your tongue over your bottom lip and nodded.  He pushed his hand under the waistband of his underwear and began to stroke his cock.

You slid your hands down your stomach and slipped one into your panties, rolling the tip of your fingers over your clit.  He smiled.  Once again it was like you were looking at a weird mirror to a parallel universe.  You were both leaning your head on your arm, pressed against the window staring at each other.  You were both stroking yourselves.  Your hands moved quicker and quicker.  You both came simultaneously, tensing up and relaxing as one.  You stood staring at each other for a minute.

Clint took his hands from his pants and wiped it on his boxers.  ‘Good night’ he mouthed at you.  You laughed and mouthed ‘good night’ back and went and got ready for bed.

You don’t see Clint for a few months after that.  You tried googling him but nothing really popped up.  You were a little worried but you figured because he was an Avenger, shit probably came up from time to time.  You went about your own life as normal.  Work, home, hanging out with friends, the occasional bad date.

It was a Saturday when you saw him next.  You got home from brunch and went to change into something more comfortable and he was in his bedroom packing away his bow.  You went to the window and waved.  He looked up beaming at you and waved back.  He was a little beat up.  His eye was black and he had a plaster on his nose.  He made a gesture at you like he was holding a phone to his ear.

You went to your desk and wrote your number on a sheet of lined paper with a sharpie and held it up to the window.  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed in the number.

Your phone rang and you answered it.

“I missed you,” he said.

“Where have you been?”  You asked.

He smiled.  “Had a mission.  You been behaving without me, dirty girl?”

His words made you squirm and you rubbed your legs together.

“Oh, you like when I call you that, huh?” Clint asked.  “That’s what I’ve been calling you in my head since you danced for me.  That dirty girl from across the street.”

“Why don’t you come over?” You asked.

He shook his head.  “I’d love to, but not today.  How about you give me a show instead?”

“You gonna tell your dirty girl what to do?” You asked.

He chuckled and you watched as he rubbed his hand over his thigh.  “You’re my dirty girl, are you?”  He asked.  “I do like that.  How about you take that pretty dress off for me?”

You switched your phone on to speaker mode and put it on your bedside table.  You returned to the window and pulled the straps of your dress down and shimmied out of it.

“Good girl,” he purred.  “You’re pretty hot, you know?”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you replied.

He laughed.  “Thank you.  Let’s see the rest of you then.”

“You’re not going to undress for me?”  You asked, fiddling with the cups of your bra.

“Not today,” he said, looking at you with a half-smile that said he’d devour you if you let him.  “Today you’re my dirty girl.  Today you’re gonna behave for me.”

“Come over,” you breathed.

“Ask me again and the game’s over for today,” he growled.  “Now take off your underwear.”

You shivered.  How could you possibly be playing this game with a complete stranger?  You don’t even know the guy.  Just because he was an Avenger and you’d been flirting at him through a window didn’t make this okay.

Your hesitation must have been obvious.  He walked over to the window and put his palm on the glass.  “Sorry,” he said, gently.  “I thought that was what you wanted.  We don’t have to do that.  I just… I can’t actually come over right now.  Fuck.”

“No, it’s fine,” you quickly assured him.  “I just had a minor freak out.  Let’s play.”

“Well then, what are you waiting for?”  He said, slipping back into his role.

You unhooked your bra and tossed it aside and then slowly unhooked your stockings from the garter belt.  You turned and dragged your underwear down.  His hum came through the phone faintly as he watched on.

“Leave the stockings on,” he said.

You turned to face him again, stepping out of your panties.

“Touch yourself,” he growled.

You slid your hand down your stomach and between your legs.  You slipped your fingers between your folds and stroked them up and down.  You rolled your clit between the tip of your index finger and thumb.  As pressure built inside you and spread out, you pushed a finger into your cunt and stroked it inside yourself.

“Talk to me,” Clint said.  “Tell me what it’s like.  Are you thinking of me?”

You stared across the street at him.  “I always think about you.  It feels good.  Warm. I wish it was you.”

“Next time, dirty girl,” Clint hummed.  “I promise.  How about you taste yourself?  Tell me what you taste like.”

You pulled your fingers from your pussy and stuck them in your mouth, slowly sucking them clean.  You hummed as you did and heard Clint take a harsh breath in on the other end of the phone.  You gazed over at him and he adjusted his pants.

“Salty, a little sweet.  Acidic.  Like eating lychees on the beach,” you said.

“Do you have a toy you can use?”  He asked.

You nodded.

“Go get it and hop up on the bed.  I want your pussy facing me,” he ordered.

You went and got your vibrator from your closet.  It’s a simple silicone rabbit in pale pink.  You sat down on your bed facing the window and leaned back on your elbows with your legs spread.

“Fuck, you look amazing,” Clint purred.  “You know what I’d do if I was there?”

“Tell me,” you hummed.

“I’d fucking eat that pussy out until you couldn’t walk straight,” he growled.  “Get yourself off for me.”

You lubed up your vibrator and turned it on.  You slowly ran it up and down your labia before pushing it inside you and letting the ears rest on your clit.

“That’s it, my dirty girl,” Clint groaned. “Fuck yourself for me to watch.  Are you imagining that it’s me?”

“Yes,” you moaned.  “Oh, fuck.”

As you brought yourself closer and closer to orgasm, Clint kept talking to you.  Telling you how much he liked watching you.  How it would be him fucking you next time.  How dirty you were and how much he liked it.

“Come for me, dirty girl.  I want to watch,” Clint growled.

You were sitting pretty close already but his words acted as a trigger.  You came, crying out and twisting on the mattress.  Your legs snapped shut around our vibrator and you pulled it away panting, and curled up on the mattress.

“That was beautiful,” Clint praised.  “I promise next time it will be me.  Are you alright?”

You sat up and switched off the toy, looking across at him.  “More than alright.”

“I gotta go, I’ll call you later, okay?” He said.

You waved at him and he gave you a guilty-looking wave in return before heading out.

The following day you hadn’t really seen Clint around at all.  It was just after nine at night and you were stacking your dishwasher when your phone buzzed.  It was a text from Clint.  It just said; ‘Don’t say anything’.

The next thing you knew there was a knock on your door.  You opened it and Clint pushed you against the wall, his mouth immediately on yours.  You kicked the door closed and wrapped your arms around his neck.  His hands slid down your back to your ass as you became light-headed from lack of oxygen.

He lifted you suddenly and for a split second he broke the kiss and you gasped for air before he was on you again as he carried you to your bedroom.  He tossed you unceremoniously on the bed and wrestled with your fly.  When he got it open he roughly yanked down your jeans and threw them to the side.

For one split second, you thought this might be the craziest fucking thing you’ve ever done and then his face was between your thighs, his tongue lapping at your pussy.  Two fingers entered you and you gasped and bucked up underneath him.

He expertly used his tongue and fingers on you, sucking and licking at your clit as he stroked your g-spot again and again.  You came apart, twisting and arching off the mattress, crying out incoherently as your orgasm crashed down on you.

He stood and fished a condom on his pocket before dropping his pants and sheathing himself.  You just managed to scramble back up onto the bed and he’d caught you again.  Before you even had a chance to think, he was deep inside you, kissing you hungrily.

He fucked you hard and fast.  You clung to him, your nails running down his back.  His mouth moved to your neck and he bit you - marking you.  You couldn’t even think straight, all that you were was what was happening to you.  A second orgasm hit and you spasmed under him.  He pulled out and flipped you over.  You pulled your knees up under you and he was inside you again, pounding into you from behind.  You scrambled for leverage at the headboards and his hands slid down your arms.  When he reached your hands he linked his fingers with yours.

The room echoed with the sound of your joint moans and grunts.  He tensed against you, his hands squeezing yours and he came.  For a moment he just stayed inside you, his cock twitching and his head pressed into the middle of your back.

He got up and just left the room.  You rolled over blinking, unsure of whether or not that was it.  Had he just come in, fucked you without saying a word, and left?  Before the panic really set in he was back, and he flopped down on the bed beside you.

“Hey,” he said, grinning.  “Nice to meet you.  I’m Clint.”

You burst out laughing and gave him your name.

“I feel all jittery now.  That was pretty full-on,” he said snuggling down into your shoulder.  “What do you want to do?  I can stay.  Or if you hate that, I’ll go. I mean, I dunno.”

You put your finger on his lips.  “So you don’t do that often then?”

He shook his head.  “Nope.  Fuck...” he dragged the fuck out several beats and ran his hand down his face.  “Just seemed like something you and I should do.”

“I liked it.  You can stay,” you said.

“Good,” he said, laughing.  “‘Cause I wanted to.  Can I take you out for breakfast in the morning?  I think maybe we should not only be crazy deviants.”

You giggled and nuzzled into him.  “Yeah, I’d like that.  But maybe a little bit of crazy deviates still.”

He laughed and pulled you into his arm.  “Of course.”

[allhailkingrooker51]

Suicide Blonde (Michael Rooker X Reader)

Disclaimer:  Obviously set in an AU where Rooker’s never been married, no kids, etc.  This is purely fantasy and would never happen in a gazillion years.  If you don’t like RPF, don’t read.

Warnings:  RPF, mild smut

He hurried to turn his alarm off, cursing under his breath as he accidentally knocked his phone off the nightstand and sent it clattering onto the hardwood floor.  He cringed, not so much about the shattered condition his phone screen was possibly now in, but whether or not he had disturbed your sleep.  He was trying his hardest not to wake you, and after all that noise, he knew he probably hadn’t succeeded.  You had to give him an “A” for effort for trying at least, but you were indeed awake.  It wasn’t entirely his fault though.  You had been blessed with the misfortune of never being able to sleep through even the slightest sound since the day you were born.

He sat up on the edge of the bed and yawned, grumbling as he finally stood up and shuffled to the bathroom.  Neither one of you liked to get up early.  And it was early, too early, one of those days he had to be on set at the crack of dawn.  You waited for the sound of the water running in the shower before you snuck off to the kitchen to make him breakfast.

It was still black as night outside the kitchen window as you put on a fresh pot of coffee, counting down the seconds until you could taste that early morning caffeine rush and give your brain a jumpstart.  You then went about whipping him up a quick breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast.

You had just set his plate and coffee on the table when he walked into the kitchen.  He went straight for you, grabbing you in a tight embrace from behind, nuzzling his scruffy chin against your cheek.  “I’m sorry I woke you up.  You forgive me?”

You turned around in his arms to face him.  He looked so damn cute with his hair still damp from the shower, his blue eyes drowsy with sleep and his lips stretched into a lazy smile.   How could you ever be mad at him?    

“It’s ok, baby,” you assured him, giving him a kiss before you both sat down at the table.  “I had already planned on making you breakfast anyways.  Besides, I can always take a nap later.”   You smirked and nudged his leg under the table with your foot.  “And, we both know you’ll end up falling asleep again somewhere.  The make-up chair, or some random prop couch, middle of a scene,” you teased.  

He chuckled.  “That is exactly what I’m gonna do, and I can’t wait to do it.  Mostly just to fuck with Gunn for making me get up this early,” he joked.

———————————————————————————————

After the two of you were finished eating, he grabbed his backpack and keys and wrapped you up in one last hug before he had to leave.  “Hey, let’s go out for dinner later when I get home, hm?”  

“That sounds fine with me,” you replied.

“Well, I mean if you still wanna be seen in public with me after today,” he grinned.

Your face scrunched up.  “What does that mean?” you puzzled.  

“Nothing.  Nevermind.”  He was trying his best not to laugh.

“Nooo, tell me,” you whined.  “Why wouldn’t I wanna be seen with you in public, you goofball?”

“Nope.  Can’t tell you.  It’s a surprise.”  With another quick kiss and an “I love you”, he was out the door before you could ask him another question, leaving you standing there wondering what on earth this surprise could be.  Heaven knows with him it could be anything.

———————————————————————————————-

That evening, you heard the back door to the kitchen open and close, followed by the familiar sound of his keys hitting the countertop.    

A few seconds later, he walked into the living room.  “Surprise!”

You looked up from your laptop to see him standing there, his baseball cap in one hand, his other hand toying with the curls on his head.  

Your jaw nearly hit the floor.  “Oh…my…God…come…here.”  

He busted out laughing and flopped down on the couch next to you.  When he had walked out the door that morning, he had left with a head full of brown curls and three weeks worth of a fuzzy, salt and pepper beard.  He had returned home a bleached blonde and not a trace of stubble to be found on his face.

“So?  Whadda ya’ think?”

You sat your laptop on the coffee table and moved closer to him.  “Ummm…well, it’s…different,” you giggled, running both of your hands through his hair.  “But, yeah, I like it.”

“You really like it or you just saying that?” he asked, wondering if you were just being nice.

“No.  Really, I like it.  I mean I never thought of you as a blonde before, but I’m kinda digging it.”  You inched closer to him still and straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and twirling the newly blond curls on the back of his head with your fingers. “It’s actually pretty sexy.“

“Yeah?” he smiled and ran his tongue on the inside of his cheek.  His hands instinctively slid down to cup your ass, and he inhaled sharply as you started grinding against his crotch.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, leaning down to leave a trail of slow, soft kisses along his jawline, noticing how strange it was to not feel his scruff against your skin.  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch, sighing as you whispered in his ear.  “It’s making me want you..right….now.”

He swallowed hard, his breath beginning to quicken as he watched your fingers graze down his chest, lifting up the bottom of his t-shirt to get at his jeans.  You could see the outline of his cock under the black denim becoming more defined every second.

“You wanna maybe postpone dinner for a bit?  See if what they say is actually true?”  You unbuttoned his jeans and took your sweet time unzipping them.

“If what’s true?” he rasped, suddenly finding it hard to concentrate on the conversation as you slipped your hand inside his underwear.

“That blondes really do have more fun,” you purred, wrapping your fingers around his cock, stroking him in a torturous, slow pace until he couldn’t take it anymore.

He grinned, and his eyes burned wild as he flipped you onto your back on the couch.  He yanked his shirt over his head like it was on fire and threw it across the living room.  “I think I already know what the answer’s gonna be, but let’s find out anyway,” he growled and buried his face against your neck, nipping and kissing as he tugged down your jeans.

After the third round testing out that old saying, you both decided to just stay in and order pizza.