#ivvic writes

[betrayedbycinnamon]

June Jukebox Scribbles

Day 2 (swap for i touch myself - Divinyls “I don’t want anybody else)

word count 325

“Don’t do it,” Natasha warned when she turned to see who Clint was staring at.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t go after Barnes. You’re just going to get yourself hurt.”

“Bucky wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You hurt you,” she reminded him. “I’m not saying he’s gonna do anything on purpose, but Clint. You know better.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“Isn’t he still mad at you after that stunt you pulled last week?”

“Probably. I’m gonna go offer him a drink.”

“Promise me this isn’t going to end in tears and heartbreak.”

“You worry too much.” 

He stopped by the bar before crossing the room to Bucky. Steve caught his eyes as he was approaching and gave him a nod before slapping Bucky on the back and walking off. Clint wanted to lick the confused furrow between his brows; Christ he was down bad.

“What do you want?” Bucky demanded as Clint held out a bottle to him.

“Thought I’d bring you a drink.”

“Don’t you have someone else to hassle?”

“You’re my favorite person to hassle.”

“Lucky me.”

“Aw, don’t be like that baby.”

“Not your baby, Barton,” he said, sounding tired, but finally took the beer.

“You still mad about last week?” The look he got was response enough. “I said I was sorry.”

“Go tell it to one of those dames from Friday.”

“Didn’t take you for the jealous type.”

“I’m not, I’m. I don’t have any claim on you, and I know I’m not anyone’s first choice, but you don’t have to rub it in.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Go find someone else to hassle.”

“I don’t want anybody else.” Bucky gave him another flat look. “I’m serious. Look, I was only showing off on the dance floor ‘cause I was hoping you were watching, not ‘cause I wanted any of them to go home with me.”

“And you want me to go home with you?”

“Yeah. You ready to get out of here?”

[betrayedbycinnamon]

Opus 88 (snacks)

(2348 words) by ivvic Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Hangry, So many snacks, Wooing through Food Summary: Bucky keeps getting partnered with Barton, who is a decent enough agent, but does the man ever stop eating?

@schildmehdchen commented that they had to check that ding-dongs were a real snack, and I'd like you to know we also have Ho-Hos.

Best hostess snack?

DingDong

HoHos

SnoBalls

Zingers

Twinkies

Honey Bun

something else dropped in the comments

Voting ended onJun 29

[betrayedbycinnamon]

If you’re still going…winterhawk “I think we need to talk

“I think we need to talk.”

“Why, yes, Bucky. I would like a beer. Or, something stronger. A shot? Vodka? Or a 9 mil would be perfect.”

“Really? Do you have to be so dramatic?”

“No good conversation has every started with the phrase, ‘we need to talk,’ so give me something to put me out of my misery.”

“So fucking dramatic,” Bucky repeated, rubbing at his temple with one hand.  “Get inside and sit down. I’ll get you your drink.”

Clint flopped down on the armchair petulantly, arms crossed protectively over his chest.  

“Just, I thought we had something good going on,” Clint grumbled from his seat, knowing full well Bucky could hear in the kitchen.”

“For fuck’s sake, Clint. I’m not breaking up with you.”

“You’re not?”

“No.” Bucky knew he sounded exasperated as he shoved a beer bottle into Clint’s hand, but probably the fond smile he couldn’t wipe off his face softened it.

“We gotta work on your lead in. That was awful.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“So what did you want to talk about?”

“Dunno if I should. As dramatic as you are tonight, you might spin this into a proposal, and I ain't quite ready for that yet.”

Clint hadn’t really been moving much, sitting on the couch, but it was still starkly obvious the way he froze, labelled half peeled on in his limber fingers, breath caught in his chest. Bucky was sure it was hope sparkling in his eyes and causing the pink flush across his cheekbones, and he filed it away for later.

“I won’t,” Clint finally managed to get out, voice breathless.

“Maria’s got me doing my annual review, and I wrote you down as my emergency contact without even thinking.  We practically live together and you’re the one I want there if I wake up in a hospital, before Stevie even, so I got to thinking how it was stupid we don’t spend every night together. So, how about it? Move in with me?”

Bucky almost couldn’t finish the last question before the wind was knocked out of him as Clint tackled him for a hug, beer spilling out of the bottle forgotten on the floor

[betrayedbycinnamon]

June Jukebox Scribbles

Did I try to post this in May because I was so excited about the prompt drops I forgot what day it was? Maaybe. Here's attempt two, with my 300 word exactly submission after painstakingly deleted 83 words. I know it wasn't a hard limit, but almost one hundred words over the goal seemed excessive. I may post the extended edition later in life.

June 1st - Joy To The World - Three Dog Night / “I never understood a single word he said”

Bucky didn’t feel social when he arrived at the tower. He’d spent so much time isolated first by Hydra, then by choice when he hadn’t trusted himself. Steve’s new team was… a lot. To put it nicely.

Which he usually didn’t. “Are they always so damn loud?”

He kept to himself, avoided the public areas and refused to speak English when he couldn't. That and his body language made it pretty clear he didn’t want friendship.

Steve went along with it, afraid he would leave, until he’d started to worry Bucky wasn’t ‘progressing in his recovery.’ ‘Sam says,’ became his cue to flee. Unfortunately his favorite spots were invaded by the archer.

He got used to the friendly idiot and to having another body share his space. It wasn’t friendship, just the reassurance that life was still going on around him. Clint would talk to him, even though Bucky only responded in Russian. Sometimes Clint retaliated by switching to sign.

On bad nights, when they were both on the roof with hollow eyes, Bucky would unload about the nightmares that had driven him from bed. 

It was great, until he overheard Steve corner Clint and demand to know what Bucky had been telling him after a particularly rough week.

“As far as you’re concerned, I never understood a single word he said.”

Bucky stalked over, snarling, “You speak Russian? Why the hell didn’t you say something?” he demanded before storming off.

Clint caught up with him later. “The thing is, it seemed like you needed someone to listen and I could understand more than just the words you were saying. Seemed like it helped.”

It had, which was why Bucky was so mad. “Explain.”

Clint did, and by the end of the night it didn’t feel like such a betrayal.

[betrayedbycinnamon]

June Jukebox Scribbles day 6

word count 326

On vacation with the fam so haven't been able to get much done the past couple of days because these kids are loud and distracting even when we're chilling in the rental, but we're all having a blast.

Got a little something for day though :)

June 6th - Therefore I Am - Billie Eilish / “I don't think I caught your name”

Clint hadn’t expected to find anyone in the base; the latest intel had it as abandoned which was why he hadn’t bothered to wait for the team to scramble.

He’d quickly realized his mistake and managed to take out three guards without raising an alarm but instead of backing out he’d pushed further in when he heard screaming coming from the bowels of the building.

He took out a few more goons who were too focused on heading into the nightmare room to realize he was there. Five people were trying to wrestle a man into the worlds worst dental chair while six more circled him with guns and cattle prods. 

Clint felled three of them with arrows before the others turned on him, but now able to pull free the prisoner turned into a whirlwind of movement, stealing weapons and moving so fast it reminded Clint of the Tasmanian devil cartoon. Clint joined in, switching to hand to hand combat in the tight quarters.

Together the cleared the room in short order. Clint was feeling pretty good but then another man appeared in the doorway, reciting disjointed Russian. His new friend staggered and stared in horror at the rapid fire words. Howling, he tried to cover his ears and Clint understood there wasn’t time to ask questions.

The man dropped to the ground, arrow lodged in his throat and the space went quiet.

Clint grinned through a mouthful of bloody teeth, a deranged look that would send most folks recoiling but his current partner in crime just gave a tentative smile back. It seemed like he wasn’t used to using those muscles, though the rest of them had moved easily a flawlessly fluid ballet of violence.

It had been beautiful. 

“I don’t think I caught your name,” Clint said and extended a hand, letting his grip linger. He was definitely feeling good about his luck as the man’s grin widened. “Wanna get out of here?”

[betrayedbycinnamon]

Opus 87 (read this)

(513 words) by ivvic Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers Additional Tags: it's so fluffy I'm gonna die Summary: Bucky hands Steve something to read to the team.

[betrayedbycinnamon]

Shoulder kisses please 💜🩶

When Clint and Bucky started dating, it had been a slow, gentle process.  They’d already been fucking, which was neither slow nor gentle, but that had had everything to do with adrenaline and the need to burn off excess energy.  Things had shifted after the first time they’d accidentally fallen asleep together after several enthusiastic rounds of ‘oh god we nearly died but didn’t sex.’ 

It hadn’t been entirely unheard of for one of them to start to nod off in post-coital bliss, but if the sleeper belonged in that bed the other would make a quick escape, or there would be a gentle nudge and gesture towards the door.

But then they’d both fallen asleep, and slept through the night, neither disturbed by nightmares. When Bucky had woken up to sunlight streaming on his face — he always kept his curtains open, he liked to see the sky — the fact that Clint was wrapped around his middle, snuffling softly against his chest, had warmed him inside more than the sunbeam. So after Clint had finally woken up he’d asked if they could do it again.

Dating Clint had been surprisingly good. He’d kinda expected Clint to be a bad, or lackluster, boyfriend, and yeah, he had a habit of forgetting what the date was or showing up late after losing track of the time, but he was thoughtful and observant when they were together, and when they weren’t he did small things that showed he was thinking about Bucky. He picked up small trinkets that had made him think of Bucky, or sent him ridiculous snapshots of his day or random memes he found from who knew where — probably Kate.

All in all, Bucky felt cherished.

They had their rough moments, but on balance it was coming up good.

Clint started pressing little kisses on Bucky’s forehead and he just wasn’t sure how to deal with it. He was positive it was a comment on his height, so the first time it happened Bucky had shoved him hard enough he’d nearly fallen on his ass. Clint had taken in Bucky’s blush and laughed hard enough that he’d nearly fallen over again, and from then on never passed up an opportunity to do it again.

Bucky continued to bluster, to grumble about how he was a perfectly normal height for his time, it wasn’t his fault people had started to become giants, but secretly he loved each and every kiss.

He didn’t understand why Clint kept doing it, outside commitment to the bit, until it occurred to him that he was perfect height to press a kiss against Clint’s bare shoulder. Clint had amazing shoulders, from all the years of pulling that bow string, and Bucky had explored every inch of them with his mouth many many times. He’d mapped out every scar and freckle and could probably reproduce the constellations from memory.

But none of the compared to the early summer afternoon he walked into the common room and found Clint talking to Tony, his back to the hallway Bucky had come from. He was wearing one of those terrible shirts with the sleeves cut off, strings fraying and hanging all over, and Bucky was seized with the urge to press a kiss right against the ragged cloth edge.

Not one to deny himself anymore, he’d crossed the room silently and done just that, arms wrapped around Clint’s middle in a gentle squeeze and Clint had frozen mid-word. 

“You okay there bird brain?” Tony asked when he didn’t resume his conversation.  “Hello? Anybody home?”

Clint ignored the teasing and turned in Bucky’s arms, an incredibly gooey look in his eyes that made Bucky blush to see. Both of them uncomfortable with the amount of emotion that look implied they’d gone to their room to fuck about it instead of talk, without a single further word to Tony, who had yelled in mock outrage.

But Bucky got it now, what the forehead kisses meant. Because he felt the same rush of emotion whenever he bussed his lips over one of Clint’s shoulders, felt the words that he wasn’t ready to speak trying to tumble out of his mouth and seeping into the freckled skin with each kiss instead.

He’d get there one day, probably soon. But for now, he tipped his head up for a forehead kiss whenever Clint walked over, and pressed his own kisses against Clint’s shoulders.

[betrayedbycinnamon]

Ok ok ok there are so many good ones for Winterhawk here! I shall restrain myself.

40. Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really crack a smile for me?

alternate, 8. Wanna bet?

Were these supposed to be drabbles?  LOL. 

Bucky glared at the coffee pot, willing to to drip faster. He hadn’t been able to sleep the previous two nights, between Rogers’ snores and his own nightmares and he even he was self aware enough to realize he was well past grumpy in his sleep-deprivation.  He didn’t need much sleep, but he did need some.

He was just hoping some caffeine could get him through the early morning meeting, and after that he had every intention of taking a nap.

“Not sure even you can intimidate that pot into working faster,” Clint said from his elbow. He managed to suppress his startle reflex, goddamn spies, and turned his glare onto Clint.

Clint, who was only wearing a low slung pair of basketball shorts. Bucky could see way too much of the man from his broad shoulders to his bare toes, which was a problem because he wanted to lick all of that golden skin with its scattering of freckles and faint line of hair disappearing under the waistband.  Hell, even his knobbly knees were a problem for Bucky, which was how he knew he was in deep.  

Clint raised his hands in front of him, biceps bulging with the movement, in a placating maneuver. “Glaring at me isn’t gonna make it go faster neither.”

“Maybe I’m glaring at you to make sure you don’t try and take any of it till after I get my fill.”  It was a boldface lie.  Bucky always glared at Clint, it was the only thing he could think to do to keep any other incriminating expressions off his face. He was terrified someone was gong to catch onto his stupid little crush. Steve used to sniff out Bucky’s feelings for someone like nobody’s business, but so far his nose had been too busy chasing after Sam.

“Sure, okay. You get first dibs.”

“I get the first pot,” Bucky corrected.

“Aw, no, what?” Clint whined, and Bucky felt the urge to kiss the pout off of his face.  Instead he redirected his glare back to the now half-full coffee pot. 

“It’s lucky you’re cute,” Clint muttered to himself. Probably Bucky wasn’t meant to hear it, but he did and his lips twitched upward as warmth surged through him before he got control of his face.

But it was Hawkeye watching him glare at kitchen gadgets and Hawkeye hadn’t earned the moniker for nothing.

“Was that … holy shit. Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really crack a smile for me?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Bucky said, trying to sound exasperated, but he could feel his ears heating up and knew there was no way Clint would miss the blush.

“Oh, wow. No. You did, you absolutely did. I don’t think you’ve smiled once since you got here and you just smiled for—”

He cut himself off and backed up rapidly, only stopping when his bare back hit the opposite counter, when Bucky whirled to glare directly at him. Bucky stalked forward, menace and threat clear in his movements, until he was right in Clint’s space, finger jabbing hard in his sternum.

“The Winter Soldier doesn’t smile,” he snarled. And then his body registered how much bare skin was pressed against him; he could feel Clint’s body heat through his own thin sleep clothes. It suddenly wasn’t just the tips of his ears burning. 

“Maybe not, but I think Bucky Barnes might.  I think Bucky Barnes might blush too,” Clint crooned, leaning in.  “I think Bucky Barnes might—”

This time Bucky cut him off with a kiss.