#mcu!clint

[13-wonder-writer]

I'm curious, is there a Marvel fan that prefers MCU!Clint over AA!Clint? Because I don't.

[winterhawkkisses]

856

Bucky startles awake to the distant slam of a car door, and he stares up at an unfamiliar ceiling for a second, at a gentle brown water mark in the shape of Italy's boot.

Says a lot that he doesn't panic, come up swinging, scramble for the nearest weapon (which is the knife in his boot by the bed - he's relaxing, he's not an idiot). Instead he settles back against the pillows for a second, stretching out under the heavy old patchwork quilt, watching dust motes dance through the slices of light that sneak in around the curtains.

He aches in one of the good ways, exertion and rarely-used muscles and too little sleep, and he can't help the slight grin as he eases over to the edge of the bed and contemplates finding a shower. He's halfway out the door, tugging up his sagging boxers, when there's a shriek from downstairs.

It's like an electric shock down his spine, like his muscles twitch and react before he even gets to have a say in it, and he grabs a knife and vaults the banister, landing square on top of something plastic and brightly colored that immediately gives way beneath his feet. He's met by four pairs of eyes - three curious, startled, and one amused and exasperated. Clint, who has in the time since he fucked Bucky through the mattress las night apparently somehow acquired some children, folds his arms across his chest.

"Get some damn pants on," he says.

By the time Bucky returns downstairs - freshly showered, hair tied back and dripping, dressed in last night's jeans and a shirt with a purple target that he's not gonna give back - the kids are playing some mutation of a game that involves a GI Joe, three Barbies and a huge ragged bear. Bucky peeks in on them, but makes his way through to the kitchen where gentle sizzling is underlined by the soft country music on the radio.

"What," he says, to Clint's broad plaid-clad shoulders, "the fuck."

Clint flips a couple of pancakes onto a growing stack and ladles in more batter, and Bucky only gets a profile-glimpse of his smile but even that's a lot to deal with, the curling warmth in his stomach is a lot to deal with, so he looks away.

The room is - well, an interior designer's never seen the inside of it, that's for sure, and it's a marked contrast to the Avengers' shiny new base. It's kind of an accretion, built up of bits and pieces over years, everything showing different levels of wear. There's a dart board and a cork board and both are pinned with coupons and photos and flyers for local fairs. There's a refrigerator somewhere under all the magneted drawings, and a stack of fraying recipe books, and a bunch of unwashed dishes by the sink that honestly seems like the easiest thing to process out of all of these. Bucky folds up his sleeves and starts the water running, grabbing the dish soap - floral scented, and an obnoxious shade of pink - and squirting it into the sink.

They work in companionable quiet, for a while, occasionally broken by Clint singing snatches of whatever's on the radio, occasionally broken by the conversation of the kids.

"Syrup's in the cupboard to your right," Clint eventually says, closer than Bucky would've expected him, "and I think there's berries in the fridge." Bucky stills as Clint leans in even closer and brushes a kiss against his cheek - like that's normal, like that's somehow a thing they do - and it takes him a second to follow instructions, grab the syrup and the berries and make his way through to the living room.

The family are all sitting around a low table that's painted in swirls of yellow and purple and pink, the two bigger kids in little wooden chairs and Clint on the floor with the littlest one on his knee. Bucky tries to make himself comfortable on the floor opposite him, aware of all the kids staring at him with curiosity but no real hint of anything wary.

"This is Lila," Clint says, nodding at the little girl, "Nate," dropping a big hand on the kid in his lap's blond head, "and Cooper. Kids, this is daddy's friend Bucky." He drops a wink so lascivious that Bucky chokes on air, has to take a gulp of the juice that's been set out for him.

"Coulda warned me," he says, after a second, and Clint - apparently unconsciously, tugs Nate a little closer, a frown marring his forehead.

"Didn't expect you'd stay," he says, and it's pointed, and Bucky's honestly not sure what to do with that so he turns to Lila, instead.

"Hey, I like the table," he says, and learns - in fairly short order - about how she'd painted it with her mommy when she was really small, and how Cooper had helped a bit but had been too small to help much, and how you can see where his fingers are in the paint, here, see? And then Cooper cut in to tell Bucky about how he helped and to show the fingermarks again, just to make sure Bucky knew where they were, and then somehow that segued into a conversation about favourite dinosaurs and Bucky catches Clint's eye in the middle of it and somehow they're both laughing, in the sunlight, over the syrup-soaked pancakes.

After, they carry the plates out and slide them into the cooling water in the sink, but before Bucky can run the water and get started again Clint corners him against the sink and kisses him deep and slow and filthy until he's left gasping, clutching onto Clint's shoulders to keep himself upright.

"I always woulda stayed if I thought I was invited," he says, and Clint grins and kisses him again.

"You are always invited," he says, low and meaningful, "but Thursdays we eat in Cooper's dinosaur tent."

[queendrinkswater]

I've read so many stories with Deaf! Clint that when I read an MCU!Clint story, I'm like, what is this shit.

[xclintonarchived-blog]

"Just curious, what do you think of me?"

Clint blinked, a little surprised by Kate's question. Of course, his automatic answer to anyone, especially himself, is saying that she was perfect, but most people have him a look when he said it, taking it a multitude of different ways that they never said out loud and he didn't really know how to clarify. "I think you're great."

[xclintonarchived-blog]

"I love you"

@imablxckwidow#6“And you’ll still love me after this movie is over, now shut up!”

[xclintonarchived-blog]

"Please never call me by my full name ever again." (from @charliebarton)

@charliebarton

“Charlotte. Charlotte. Charlotte.” He smirked, emphasizing her name.

[xclintonarchived-blog]

❝Take me drunk I’m home.❞

Clint looked at his friend, laughing quietly. He had never seen her this drunk before. She usually had a better hold on her drinks. He wrapped his arm around her. "Come on, Nat."

[xclintonarchived-blog]

But what if I don't have a rp page to want your kik

((That's alright, I guess! I mean, it's not like it's my personal one, so I don't mind if people know it I suppose. It's anyroleplayaccount))