Clint is a 15-year-old circus brat and pickpocket still growing into his shoulders the first time he meets Bucky, a meeting which leaves a mark on him, literally -- fingerprint bruises on his wrists that won't heal and an echo of someone else's emotions in his chest. That bond becomes the only good thing he's got, bringing him back from Loki's ice cold magic and all the shit that comes after. It takes a long time for him to realize that sometimes, it's the only thing bringing Bucky back too.
A soulmate AU.
Bookmarked by Teldra
18 Jan 2019
Clint finds himself spiraling into a deep depression after the Battle of New York...until the Winter Soldier ends up saving him and inadvertently giving him a new purpose – to save the man that the Soldier had once been – Bucky Barnes.
Not one to be outdone, the Soldier decides that his new mission is to ensure that Clint remains alive himself. Protecting a blonde man with a self-destructive streak is somehow very familiar to him.
Through the back and forth of who is saving whom they cross the country and learn more about themselves and each other – and perhaps find a reason for living.
23 Aug 2018
Sam slaps his hands against the conference table, half-standing from his seat.
“You spent three days with the deadliest assassin on earth? Doing what?”
Clint’s face goes red and Maria feels her stomach drop.
“No,” she manages. “Barton. You didn’t.
“Um.” Clint's face scrunches up like he can wince his way out of the conversation. “I didn’t not.”
AKA Clint ends up confessing to having met the Winter Soldier once before.
01 Jan 2019
“Have dinner with me,” the other man said, once Clint was sorted, and it was neither a demand nor a request, but somewhere in-between in a way that sent a tingle down Clint’s spine.
“Now?” Clint blurted, glancing around at the afternoon sunshine that filtered through the trees around the museum entrance.
James chuckled. “Tonight,” he corrected. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Sure?” Clint said, bewildered and- okay, he was still a little overwhelmingly turned on, and more than a little confused by James’ interest in him, by the firm conviction of his statements. “I can- I can do that.”
It was disconcerting to be the object of so much attention, especially having made such an utter fool of himself in the elevator.
“Good,” James said, and he smiled, a little, a bit of the sunshine warmth he’d shown Natasha, but tempered with something darker and more heated. “Wear something nice,” he instructed, and when he walked away his hand trailed down the bare skin of Clint’s arm, and his thumb ghosted over Clint’s knuckles in a way that made him shiver.
What the fuck.
And now Steve had brought him home like a goddamn found puppy he wanted to keep.
“What the fuck, Rogers?” Clint asked, his hands itching for a bow, a gun, an anything, but not stupid enough to make any sudden moves. There was no way to casually reach for the pistol he’d tucked into the back of his jeans, not with Steve so close and the Winter Soldier so unkillable.
“He’s not the Winter Soldier,” Steve said in a rush of expelled air, reading the tension in Clint’s arms correctly. “He’s Bucky Barnes.”
Either there were two silver-armed motherfuckers running around - and Clint could believe anything at this point - or this situation was even more bizarre than he’d first thought. And he knew bizarre. He’d been part of a circus.
A love story involving Billboard's Top 100, chopping firewood, and not looking like incognito serial killers when out on the town.
Bookmarked by Teldra
16 Jan 2019