Arrow and Shield – Chapter 7

Arrow and Shield – Chapter 7:

“So, you’re judge, jury and executioner in one person?” Coulson asked. 

“Did I hold the bow? Yes. Did I nock the arrow? Yes. Did I aim at
D’Andrea? Yes. Did I release the arrow and kill the man? Yes. Did I
decide to do it? No. So, is it my fault or the fault of the person who
decided he had to die?”

spectralarchers: MISSING SCENE IN INFINITY WAR…

spectralarchers:

MISSING SCENE IN INFINITY WAR #9 ▬ (see more here)
(#iw spoilers // #aiw spoilers)

“Except I wasn’t. If I had been here, maybe- maybe I could’ve made a difference.”

more Clint Barton gifs /// more Steve Rogers gifs /// more Ronin gifs /// all gifs /// buy me a coffee!

Serial killer Steve is amazing! Can we get a c…

Serial killer Steve is amazing! Can we get a continuation of it? Please and thank you so much.

One hour till they would open the bar. Bucky just carried two bottle crates with soft drinks behind the bar to refill the fridges. But Steve was busy glaring at his phone. Apparently the guy who was here with Clint was some local businessman who was well known and the cops searched for him now. He cursed a bit and Bucky looked up.

“What’s wrong?” he asked and frowned.

“Nothing,” he lied and put his phone in his pocket. But Bucky kept looking at him.

“Is it about Clint?” he asked after a moment and Steve shook his head. But he realized immediately that Bucky didn’t believe him.

“Goddammit, why don’t you just talk to him? Every time he comes with a date you sit here and glare at them, you scare the date away and then you comfort him.”

“That’s…” Steve started but Bucky interrupted him.

“That’s exactly what happens every time! Talk to him!”

“He thinks I’m straight,” Steve muttered.

“Then tell him that you’re not,” Bucky snapped. He grabbed the bottle crates with the empty bottles and carried them out without looking back. When Bucky was out of sight he took out his phone again and started to read again. The cops searched for this guy and they knew that he had a date before he disappeared. That was bad.

If the cops found out that Clint was his date they would question him and then he would find out that this asshole didn’t just vanish but that something happened to him. Or worse, they would suspect that Clint was the reason why the guy disappeared. No, he would have to do something.  

“Fuck, Steve!” Bucky snarled and his head whirled around. “Stop stalking the poor guy and help me for fuck’s sake!”

“I’m not stalking him, I just…” he started but Bucky once again interrupted him.

“Tell me you’re not reading his newest tweet?” he said and Steve felt the urge to just do that, now that he mentioned it. But he fought it down, put his phone back in his pocket and helped Bucky to refill the refrigerators in the bar.

Later that evening Clint came in. He looked around, went to the bar and flopped down on a stool.

“Look what we have here? Something the  cat dragged in?” Bucky joked and Clint only raised a brow. “What’s up, man?”

“Give me something strong, please. Got arrested today,” Clint said and Steve had to use all his willpower not to hurry over to him and hug him.

“Oh my god,” Bucky was visibly shocked. “What happened?”

“Greg – the guy who walked out on me last weekend – is missing and they think I know anything about it,” he said. Bucky had just poured a vodka in a glass but now he stopped and looked in Steve’s direction. Steve could literally feel his eyes on him but he pretended not to, opened a bottle of beer and gave it to the man in front of him.

“That’s awful,” Bucky said and shoved the glass over to Clint. Steve turned and looked at him now. He seemed tired, worn out and frustrated. These cops… no one was allowed to make Clint unhappy, not even cops. He pressed his lips together, went to them, took the bottle out of Bucky’s hand who threw another glance at him. He refilled Clint’s empty glass and smiled.

“It’s on the house.”

And tomorrow he would have to solve another problem.

Conversation

Clint: Steve! Steve, she’s got a gun. Steve, it’s pointed at my dick!
Sam: Would you rather it was pointed at your face?
Clint: I know it makes no sense, but yes!
[Natasha points her gun at Clint’s face.]
Sam: Better?
Clint: Not really.

#9 AmeriHawk, but can it be Christmas cookies …

#9 AmeriHawk, but can it be Christmas cookies instead of chocolate chip? Please and thank you 💘

“Honey, I’m home,” Clint called jokingly when he entered the apartment. He let his bag drop beside the door. Steve didn’t answer despite him being at home. Clint had sent him a text when he landed and Steve had said he would be here.

He cocked his head and listened. Was that music? From the kitchen? He removed his shoes, let them beside his bag and went to the kitchen.

When he opened the door he thought he ran against a wall. The first thing he noticed was that it was scorching hot and he involuntary made a step back. But then he stopped and stared open-mouthed. The kitchen looked as if a bomb went off. Bowls, spoons, rolling pins, ingredients, flour and other stuff was cluttered on every flat surface. But it smelled awesome. The next thing he noticed was the music. Billy Idol sang Jingle bell rock at full volume. And Steve – only wearing sweatpants and an apron – sang and danced along. Clint’s pants went a little tight.

“Steve?” Clint asked and Steve startled and spun around.

“Oh!” he blurted. “You’re here already?” He came over to him and kissed Clint.

“Yeah,” Clint said. “I sent you a text and you answered. Remember?” Steve turned around and looked at the clock on the opposite wall.

“Oh,” he said. “I thought you had to debrief first.”

“I was in debrief. That was two hours ago,” he said before he gestured at all the stuff in the kitchen. “What happened here?”

Steve furrowed his brows. “I’m going to make some of my mom’s famous christmas cookies,” he beamed. Clint’s eyes went wide. He had never had homemade christmas cookies.

“Seriously?” he asked and Steve nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah,” he said. “Wanna help me?”

“Really?” Clint asked and he licked his lips. Steve nodded again but when something started to smell a little weird, he cursed and spun around, hurried to the oven and pulled out a baking tray with dark brown cookies.

“I guess they’re not supposed to look like that?” Clint asked and Steve shook his head.

“No,” he admitted. “You distracted me.” He turned to Clint. “But… to make up for the ruined cookies you have to help me,” he smiled then.

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Clint grinned. Steve threw an apron in his direction and Clint put it on. “Okay, what are we going to do now?” He asked. Steve looked over the chaos in the kitchen and Clint leaned over, stole a bit of the cookie dough and before Steve could complain he popped it in his mouth. It tasted awesome. Loads of butter and spices. He loved it.

“Hey!” Steve complained and slapped his hand but Clint only grinned.

“Hmm,” he said. “It’s awesome. I love it.”

Steve looked at him – mockingly offended – with a brow raised.

“But not as much as I love you, honey,” Clint added then, stole another bit of the dough and ate it grinning.

“Here,” Steve said and pressed the rolling pin in Clint’s hand. “You can help me cut out the cookies.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Clint saluted smirking and Steve shook his head with a smile, slapped Clint’s butt, grinned when he saw the floury handprint and kissed Clint’s cheek.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he whispered. “And I love you, too.”