A Facsimile Of Myself

-I have constant nightmares and I’ve always had someone to cuddle with. Now, I realize we’re not on that level but you’re only one here and I’m really scared to go to sleep.

-You’re severely depressed these days and I’m too scared to leave you alone so yes this is the only solution please accept my hugs

-The heater broke and I’m freezing get over here

-Hey dude I read that cuddling helps you sleep better, you wanna try it out?

-The Classic™: The hotel only has a king sized bed, I guess we’re sharing.

-We fell asleep on the couch together on accident, how did my hand end up in your hair? Were you breathing on my neck?! (Why did I get tingly???????)

-You’re staying over, take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch, yes i am yes i am yes i am yes i am no you’re not yes i am FINE WE’LL BOTH TAKE THE BED, happy!!??

He stilled, chest heaving like he’d ran a marathon but he latched onto her words and the tension drained out of him as he relaxed underneath her, dropping his head to her shoulder. “Trust you,” he whispered.

redfacsimile:

“Mmm, sort of a plan. It’s dependent on a lot of unknown factors, but basing what context I have with the more likely scenarios, it might work. Otherwise, we improvise. Wouldn’t be the first time.” Her hand flexed against against the floor, scraping up dirt. “I haven’t heard anyone outside for a while, and while the lack of any ladder or access to the trap door would, in theory, be added insurance we stay down here, I doubt it’ll be much of a problem. We just don’t know what’s above us.” As far as she knew, they were just being held for some unknown reason.

He nodded, and squinted up at the trap door in question and then at the walls. Now that the panic of being captured while at a circus of all places had passed, he was able to consider much much more. “I think I can scale the walls. The rock’s irregular enough I can find foot and handholds, if I leave my boots behind.” That would suck but it would leave more portability. “Once I do it once, I can come get you and piggy back you up. That way you can hopefully get the trap door open and be in position to attack immediately, rather than having to push off the wall.” These carnies had made the mistake of going for a carnie turned assassin and an assassin who was trained using ballet to be light on her feet and nimble. They really needed to work on who they picked for hostages (if that was all they were).

He stilled, chest heaving like he’d ran a marathon but he latched onto her words and the tension drained out of him as he relaxed underneath her, dropping his head to her shoulder. “Trust you,” he whispered.

He stilled, chest heaving like he’d ran a marathon but he latched onto her words and the tension drained out of him as he relaxed underneath her, dropping his head to her shoulder. “Trust you,” he whispered.

Post-battle: -Lacing their bloodstained fingers together and giving a reassuring squeeze to let the other know they’re alright -forehead touches accompanied by relieved chuckles and shared breath -’OMG we’re alive, I can’t believe it’ bear hugs that nearly crush the life out of each other, but ‘holy shit we’re alive so I don’t care if it feels like you’re about to break my back just don’t let go!’ -Bloodied fingertips reaching up to clean away dirt from the other’s features, only to smear it across their nose or cheek, causing them both to laugh and stare at each other adoringly -Anxiously checking each other over before the dust even settles, thanking whatever higher power exists that neither are badly wounded -Carefully cleaning and bandaging each others wounds once they’ve made it to a safe place -Falling asleep in each other’s arms from sheer exhaustion, as the adrenaline finally wears off on the ride home -Finally finding each other on the battlefield, practically leaping at one another in relief, before backpedaling in discomfort from all the wounds they didn’t realize they had, only to chuckle about it and pull each other into a soft, affectionate kiss, smiling like idiots through it all because ‘dammit, we survived!’

Send one to my muse for their reaction

“Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”

“You’re trying to kidnap what I’ve rightfully stolen.”

“While you’re at it, why don’t you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it?”

“They’re terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future.”

“I can cope with torture.”

“Get used to disappointment.”

“You’ve made your decision then?”

“Frankly, I think the odds are slightly in your favor at hand fighting.”

“I would sooner destroy a stained glass window than an artist like yourself.”

“Am I going mad, or did the word “think” escape your lips?”

“Your vote of confidence is overwhelming.”

“I admit it, you are better than I am.”

“You never said anything about killing anyone.”

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

“You mock my pain!”

“Truly, you have a dizzying intellect.”

“Do you always begin conversations this way?”

“This is true love; you think this happens every day?”

“Australia is entirely peopled with criminals!”

“There’s not a lot of money in revenge.”

“You mean you wish to surrender to me? Very well, I accept.”

“Anyone who says differently is selling something.”

“Anybody want a peanut?”

“I do not envy you the headache you will have when you awake. But for now, rest well and dream of large women.”

“Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”

“The battle of wits has begun.”

“I wasn’t nervous. Maybe I was a little bit concerned, but that’s not the same thing.”

“We’ll never succeed. We may as well die here.”

“Please understand I hold you in the highest respect.”

“Isn’t there any way you trust me?”

“You’re trying to trick me into giving away something. It won’t work.”

“I’ll explain, and I’ll use small words so that you’ll be sure to understand, you warthog faced buffoon.”

“I told you I would always come for you. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“I’m not saying I’d like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely.”

“You can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces.”

“What hideous sin have you committed lately?”

“Yes, you’re very smart. Shut up.”

“There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours.”

“That doesn’t leave much time for dilly-dallying.”

“Where I come from, there are penalties when a woman lies.”

“It would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways inconceivable.”

“I challenge you to a battle of wits.”

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude but this is not as easy as it looks, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me.”

“Do you hear that? That is the sound of ultimate suffering.”

“You be careful. People in masks cannot be trusted.”

redfacsimile:

While the question wasn’t unexpected, she certainly hadn’t expected it at that very moment. It hadn’t taken a genius to notice Barton’s propensity for physical contact, but it wasn’t something she had been entirely comfortable bringing up. She was just as tactile, but it had been tarnished by her entire life leading up to SHIELD. Still, he did ask. And she could answer. 

“Cuddling is nice. As is snuggling and any other form of platonic physical contact.” That … came out not as she intended. “The answer to your next question is yes, we can cuddle.” Inwardly she winced, definitely not as warm a response as she had intended to give, but she hoped he understood.

His cheeks flushed a bit at her reply, flustered that she’d immediately known where his train of thought was heading. He knew he wasn’t subtle, despite trying to be. All of SHIELD probably knew that he was flustered by a friendly clap on the back or an arm squeeze by people he trusted. Downside of working with a bunch of spies, he supposed. 

Carefully, he moved over on the couch so that he could snuggle into her, careful and tentative but persistent in finding a comfortable cuddling position. “Thank you,” he mumbled, kissing her temple before he could think it through. He already felt a bit less scattered now that he had someone holding onto him and to hold onto. “Sometimes it just feels like… I dunno, like I’m being crushed by how alone I feel. Nothing else helps, just physical touch…. With someone I trust” he mumbled, blushing deeper. “that list is pretty much just you right now,” he admitted. He didn’t know how else to explain the deep crushing feeling he often felt and had since his childhood.

There was most definitely a smirk on her face as his face warmed, but she refrained from teasing him about it. Something told her it wasn’t a good time for that, he was obviously opening himself up and exposing vulnerabilities that in their field of work could be deadly. A wrong comment could destroy the moment, or even hurt him. And she did not want to do that. 

When he moved, she lifted her arm invitingly and waited for him to get comfortable. He was taller and larger than her, but most everything and everyone was. She knew how to compensate. The sides of her mouth twitched into an even wider smirk at the kiss, but she didn’t pull away. Because she didn’t mind. 

Clint knew it was probably annoying how much he sought out physical affection. It certainly bothered Bobbi when he was married to her, and it bothered any of the sexual partners he took, (which led to him pretty much just having sex for comfort). But the closer he got to Natasha, the more he thought she might be receptive to just cuddling him for a little while. He at least finally felt like it wouldn’t scare her off if he asked. “Hey, Tasha? How do you feel about cuddling?” He asked, trying for casual but looking far too intense for it. 

@redfacsimile 

While the question wasn’t unexpected, she certainly hadn’t expected it at that very moment. It hadn’t taken a genius to notice Barton’s propensity for physical contact, but it wasn’t something she had been entirely comfortable bringing up. She was just as tactile, but it had been tarnished by her entire life leading up to SHIELD. Still, he did ask. And she could answer.