Random One Shots

Random one shots with actors, musicians/bands and characters.

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248. Clint Barton 1

~Those arms, you were dazzled by them. Tanned and bulging with lovely thick muscles, Barton’s arms always made you feel happy to see him. They had to be your favorite part of him, other than his sassiness and charming smile. All of him was good. You just wanted to get a little bit closer to him. You were not an agent, not even close.
Okay, maybe you were close. You were part of the science lab. You helped out with Tony and Bruce when they needed an extra hand and though you were nowhere near their intelligence, you were a genius in your own right. Tony was a master at everything it seemed, mainly machinery (or so you liked to tell yourself), Bruce at physics, and you with the human body and medicine. Tony and you would draw out schematics for some of his suits, to see how to best shape the pieces of armor in order to properly fit the person inside and Bruce and yourself would have long discussions and what not about possible medicinal cures for a myriad of different ailments.
But all of your knowledge seemed to fly out the window whenever Agent Barton came in. You would clam up and silence would reign over you. He was friendly enough, which only made it harder for you to open up. None of that mattered right now though.
“Hey guys, you mind helping me out for a minute?” Seeing Barton greet you one-handed with a pale face made your stomach drop to your shoes.
“Agent Barton! What happened?” You were by his side in an instant. He was shocked to hear your voice and could not help but let out a tired laugh and smile.
“So you do talk?” You gave him a glare as you sat him down, removing his hand from his upper arm, revealing a rather large nasty gash.
“Oh, Barton. What happened?” you asked quietly.
“Just a nick, nothing to worry about. I’ll be fine.” He flashed you that gorgeous smile and you felt a small bubble of anger burst at yourself for blushing.
“You need stitches…” you murmured, opening a drawer dedicated to medical supplies.
“No one better to stitch me up than you, Y/n.” He winced as you started to clean out bits of glass from his arm, carefully wiping out the wound with sterile cloth. “Tell me, can you prescribe me serious painkillers so I can call it a night.” You smirked despite yourself.
“For some reason I don’t think you’ll have much trouble sleeping tonight.”
“I won’t if you’re next to me.” You stilled for just a moment before stitching him up.
“Let me patch you up, then we’ll see where it goes, yeah?” his lips on yours was a welcomed surprise. His lips were warm and surprisingly soft, carefully moving against your own. You pushed on his chest, breathless and with a shy smile.
“You wanna get dinner with me?”
“Barton?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up so I can get this done and we can leave.” He leaned forward, connecting his forehead with yours.
“You got it, boss.”
 

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