| Barney X Kate one shot. written from kate’s POV this is a snippet from a fan fic I wrote| WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT. LOTS OF SWEARING. AND USE OF ALCOHOL. :))) | apologies for typos
some background information before we start: Clint is in a rough state after new york, battling depression and Kate has been trying to help him get through it. The scene before this is where Clint tries to kiss Kate but she pushes him away.
| 11:30 pm |New years eve|
The frosted doors were cold under her palm as she pushed them open. Kate Bishop jumped into the nearest hipster bar she could find in Bed-stuy. The archer did not intend to spend New Years eve alone hence she looked out for any kind of Dylan O’brien tumblr bearded types to take home with her. Eyes fell on her as she walked towards the bar, perhaps its the fact she’s wearing a red dress, one she’d never thought she’d pull out of the catacombs in a long time but Kate felt angry, she felt reckless.
Hair down and face done up, she slumped into the nearest bar stool and beckoned upon the cute bartender with all the tattoo’s and piercings. There was always something amusing when she found herself ordering a vodka martini because she could pull a James Bond one liner but Kate was not in the mood. California seemed like a goal closer than she had first anticipated. At least she had grandparents out there who didn’t totally hate her.
She loved Clint, more than she had first realized but it wasn’t supposed to happen like it did. Perhaps it was the naive princess in her, to think that Clint Barton was somewhat her knight in shining armor and they’d fall in love just like in the story books. Clint was never meant to be diagnosed with depression, nor was he meant to be drunk as hell when he kissed her; tried to. It just goes to show.
“Beer.” A large figure took a seat beside her and Kate recognized the smokey stench. Great. Another Barton had come to belittle her. “Oh, Katie. Hey,” he greeted.
“Kate,” she clenched her jaw. “It’s fucking Kate.” Her grip tightened around her glass.
“Woah, someone’s got their knickers in a twist.” Barney chuckled, holding up his hands in defense. “I’m just here to drink away the troubles of 2014.”
“In a hipster trash can like this?”
“I know the owner.” He smirked. “I did him a favour back in 05 and that’s how I get free alcohol for life.” Rather pleased with himself.
“Criminal activity, no doubt.” she scoffed, sipping her drink.
“It’s a long story.” Kate noticed him take the drink from the bartenders hand without paying, he wasn’t joking. “Do I even want to ask what’s wrong?”
“All you men, fucking jokes.” She downed her drink in one and ordered for another.
Barney narrowed his eyes at her and said, “aren’t you like under aged or something?”
“Fuck off.” She had no patience for Barton humor. Kate Bishop was a renowned light weigh unlike the older Barton who sat beside her. “So Jess is pregnant and Clint is freaking out.” Kate exhaled.
“Ah,” he said. “I heard. So is that why’re you’re here because you’re in love with my baby brother.”
Kate swallowed her words, an uneasy sensation in her chest, it burned. The truth was that she didn’t even know anymore. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well then, don’t.” Barney shrugged, continuing to drink with much nonchalance.
Kate looked at him, in uncertainty. He was of six foot something stature, a greying stubble but still fruitful in the ol’ Barton blonde. Barney had Clint’s eyes, that’s how she first guessed that they were brothers. But there was something icy about Barney’s stare with the ability to cut my soul. He’d seen the war and it had turned him inside out. “Why did you come back, Barney?” she asked in a more civilized tone.
Barney sighed as his answer was long awaited and it was finally time. “I came to see my brother, I told you this, Katie.” He kept his eyes away from hers and that made Kate anxious.
“You feel guilty, don’t you?”
The other archer chuckled, “what are you now, Dr Phil?” chugging down his beer at a faster pace.
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Clint, he had forgiven you way before you even said sorry.” Kate leaned in, placing a hand on his arm.
He looked down at it and had every right to yank it away but he didn’t. “My debt to Clint goes further than redemption. So many lost years to which I have to make up for.”
“10! 9! 8!” The countdown to midnight had begun, ever single bearded rapscallion in the bar had paired off in anticipation until it was just Barney and Kate left.
She glanced up at the tv, the fireworks were about to begin in central park.
“And don’t worry about Clint, kid,” Barney said. “I’m sure there’s someone out there that’ll appreciate you in ways that my brother never could.” The archer smiled, an enlightening experience to watch him to just that. It warmed Kate.
“5! 4! 3!” It was a rash desicion, certainly one that she’d regret but Kate was in no mood to make the right call. Especially buzzing from her third martini.
She put a hand to his coarse cheek, leaning in to the older Barton, inhaling his scent of cigarettes and sweet scotch. “Happy New Year, Barn,” she brushed her lips against his as he then caught them for a more intense kiss. The stubble was rough against her own cheeks but she didn’t care. He tasted of regret and nostalgia. At least this time it would be on her own terms.
Barney placed a heavy hand on the small of her back, they were big and muscular just as she’d first noticed. With his unruly tongue, Barney deepened the kiss, starting a fervent heat at the pit of her stomach. Lust? Logic? They had merged into one.
As she pulled away from the kiss ever so slightly, his teeth grazed her bottom lip. Kate heard the disappointment in his breath but she didn’t leave him hanging for long. Taking his calloused archer hands, she led him into a rest room out back. She wanted something fast, sordid and numbing.
Charles Bernard Barton would give her just that. He wasn’t one to hesitate, his bow toned arms lifted her upon the surface, her lips returning to his in a burning fashion. Kate laced her fingers through his hair, drawing him closer. She hit her head on the mirror but the line between pain and pleasure had become non existent.
She felt the experience seep through his touch, Barney had done this before. There were just soft moans that filled the air as his kisses traveled down her nape, sending a shiver down her spine. It was euphoric, Kate had never taken any sort of hard drugs perhaps this was what it felt like. She wrapped her svelte legs around his waist, pulling him closer, his hardness evidently growing to her touch. Kate leaned in and whispered the go ahead in his ear; her warm vodka soiled breath, lingering. And with that, she helped him take off the only thing standing in the way of immense satisfaction. Widening her legs, for the sake of his ease, Barney slipped himself in. Digging her nails into his back, she knew what she wanted.
He placed his hands on her slim waist and kept his thrusts gradual at first. Kate kept a steady hand on his muscular chest for support, she couldn’t help but let out louder moans as he increased in pace. Barney seemed to be the more endowed out of the two Bartons. She urged him to not slow down because she was strung up so high on this ride, that any crash at that point would be devastating. He parted his lips slightly to kiss her again, tainting her youth in a way she could only imagine.
Kate felt her walls tighten around him, shooting another warm sensation up her spine, he was soon on his way. At least he lasted longer than most. After dating a speedster, endurance was something that had been lacking.
Barney released himself inside of her, and it was a warm welcome. Melting into his large chest, she exhaled, listening to his racing breath. It matched hers. He helped her off the surface, lifting her like a porcelain doll but she wanted to hold him for a little longer. Resting her head on his chest, maybe it was the alcohol. He was hasty at first but then she felt his arms snake around her waist pulling her in closer, just for a moment. “It’s going to get better, Kate.” He planted a kiss on her head and then let go of her, walking right out of the rest room doors.
Or maybe it was the ol’ Barton charm.
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