That Fanfic Stuff

If that had been all, the day would have been perfect as it was. But you had arranged a dinner with a few of his nearest and dearest. The meal had been delicious and the company better. He’d been smiling for hours, all thanks to you.

When you entered the house, you spun away from the hand that had settled on your back with a smile on your lips. “Have you had a good birthday, Jack?”

His smile widened. “The best, baby. Thank you.”

You hummed as you tilted your head. “You still need to open your present though.”

He blinked at you then looked from the new watch on his wrist to you and back again. You’d given it to him before you left for dinner. “What’s this then?”

“That was your pre-dinner present. Now it’s time for your post-dinner present.”

Your smile shifted into something sly and sultry and Jack’s cock immediately stirred with interest.

“Is that so?” His voice was low, rough.

You bit your lip as you nodded. “Come along, Dr. Abbot.”

His hand slid into the one you held out to him and you tugged him toward the bedroom. You pushed him into the chair in corner. “Sit down and get comfortable, then you can have your present.”

His eyes stayed locked on you as he took off his leg. You took it from him, placing it in its usual location before returning with crutches and setting them within easy reach. It was automatic for you to take care of him, to tend to him. He doubted you even really registered you’d done it.

He leaned back in the chair, getting comfortable as you stepped back from him, just out of reach. Your fingers found the zipper at the side of your dress and pulled it down slowly as you gave him that smile he adored. His breath hitched as the fabric slid from your shoulders into a puddle at your feet, leaving you in nothing but an exquisite set of lacy black lingerie.

His gaze raked over the length of you. “You are the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, voice breathy.

You positively beamed at him and god, he didn’t think he could love you more than he did in that moment.

“Come here.” He beckoned you forward.

You closed the distance with a swing of your hips. He pulled you into his lap, hand cupping your face as he kissed up the side of your neck, teeth nipping occasionally at the tender flesh.

As the opening chords of your favorite song filled the air, you closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in the rhythm. You danced and sang along until Clint’s voice was replaced by a guitar solo. You opened your eyes as you continued to dance and your breath caught as you locked eyes with none other than Hawkeye himself.

A slow smirk curled his lips as heat smoldered in his eyes. He moved toward you and it took a moment for you to realize that he was exchanging his guitar for another one. His gaze stayed glued to you as he settled the new instrument into place. “You keep dancing like that and I’m going to cum in my pants.”

Heat flooded your face as your mouth dropped slightly. Did he really just say that? To you? Holy shit.

He smirked and glanced back at the stage. He was running out of time. “What’s your name?”

You managed to stutter it out making his smirk widen.

“I like it. It suits you.” He started to walk backward to his spot. “I’ll see you after the show, sweetheart.”

A second later, he was singing again like the whole exchange had never happened. Though he did continue to shoot glances in your direction.

You guessed you’d get the chance to talk to him after all.

Somehow, that moment led to you following the band to their next three shows. Clint had asked and you’d been unable to say no. You were between jobs anyway and had enough savings to pay your portion of the rent for a few months. Though Clint had offered. Had said he’d pay anything he needed to cover your ass while you played groupie for a while.

It was amazing. Backstage at every show. Clint shooting you glances while he sang. Throwing an arm around your shoulders as he came off stage before he dragged you off to whatever party was going on that night where he made certain to keep you right by his side.

You and the singer spent hours just talking, getting to know one another. And while you loved the heavy flirting and the gentle touches, he hadn’t so much as attempted to kiss you. Frankly, you were frustrated.

It wasn’t like he was leaving you to fuck someone else but he wasn’t fucking you either. Was he even interested? Every time you thought he was and decided to make a move, he’d play with someone else’s hair. Get close to whisper in their ear.

You groaned at your train of thought. He was a rockstar. Why would he want a girlfriend when he could sleep with whoever he wanted? Did you really think he’d fall in love with you and be faithful and all that? Get a grip. He was Clint fucking Barton.

You flopped back on the hotel bed. You were staying in one of the bedrooms in the suite Clint occupied. While the thought should thrill you, it wouldn’t come to anything so what difference did it make? Your phone rang and you answered without looking at the screen. “’lo?”

“We’re going out.” You recognized the voice instantly. Natasha was the band’s drummer and Clint’s best friend. You’d spent more time with her than anyone else except Clint.

“Out where?” You were tired. You didn’t want to go anywhere. But you also needed to do something other than pine after someone who clearly wasn’t interested.

“Clubbing.”

“I don’t know,” you said and braced yourself knowing Nat wouldn’t be happy.

“I wasn’t asking.” Her voice got that edge the said she wasn’t going to argue, you were just going to do as she said and be happy doing it.

You sighed. “Fine.”

“Wear the dress I bought you.”

“Absolutely not.” The dress, if it could even be called that, was indecent. When she’d given it to you, you’d thought it was joke.

“Listen. I like you. You fit in well with the rest of us. But you need to loosen up.”

You frowned. “I’m loose.”

She snorted. “No, you’re not. You need to get laid. Wear the dress.”

With that she hung up. You scowled at the ceiling for a moment before moving to retrieve the dress from your bag. She had a point. You did need to get laid, but you were certain that you wouldn’t be satisfied with anyone but Clint.

You stopped before leaving your room and tugged at the bottom of the dress. The hem cleared your ass by about two inches. Far too short. Of course, pulling at the bottom only put more of your breasts on display. There just wasn’t enough dress to go around. There were even cut-outs on the sides to show more skin.

Fuck it. You took a breath and rolled your shoulders back. You opened the door and stepped into the main room only to jerk to a stop when your gaze fell on Clint. He lounged on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. A smile curved his lips when he heard your door.

“Hey…” he started, only to trail off as he raised his head. His eyes went wide as they took you in from head to toe. He licked his lips. “Nice dress, sweetheart.”

You cleared your suddenly dry throat. “Thanks. Nat bought it for me.”

He huffed a laugh. “Of course, she did.” He moved across the room, closing the distance between the two of you. His eyes never left yours. He stopped once there was less than a foot between you. You looked up at him. “What’s the occasion?” he asked.

“Clubbing with Nat.”

His jaw set as his gaze darkened. “I don’t fucking think so.”

You arched a brow. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not going out in that outfit.”

Ugh. This man was so incredibly aggravating. “What do you care?”

His hands immediately found the curve of your hip and the back of your neck. His lips crashed into yours in a frenzy you gladly got lost in. When he pulled away, his eyes searched your face. “In case you haven’t figured it out by now, sweetheart, you’re mine.”

“And how was I supposed to know that when you wouldn’t even kiss me? I thought you weren’t interested.” Irritation colored your words.

“Not interested?” He scoffed and pulled you in for another kiss. “Guess that’s what I get for being a fucking gentleman. Thought you’d be flattered it wasn’t just about the sex and you think I didn’t want you. I’ve been fucking hard since I saw you dancing that first night.”

The corner of your mouth kicked up. “Aren’t you supposed to see a doctor if you have an erection lasting more than four hours?”

“You’re fucking hilarious, sweetheart.”

You grinned and cupped him through his jeans to find that he was indeed hard. “I feel like I should help with this.”

“Fuck yes.” The hand on your hip moved to join the other on your neck. His thumbs ran along your jawline as he just looked at you for another moment before kissing you again. He walked you backward until your back found the wall.

His lips moved from yours to trace a line down the column of your throat. From there he found your collarbone. Before he could move any lower, you were interrupted by the ringing of your phone. Clint pulled it from your hand, his lips now tracing the curve of your breast.

He answered without even glancing at the screen. “She’s not going,” he said and hung up. He tossed the phone aside.

You laughed and tugged at his hair. “What if that wasn’t Nat?”

He shrugged. “It was.”

His hand found its way under your dress and he froze upon discovering your bare pussy. He pulled away from worshiping your skin with his lips to glower down at you. “You were going to go out in this scrap of a dress with nothing underneath it?”

Your face heated. “Well, you’d be able to see panties through the openings on the sides. And you really don’t wear a bra with a dress like this.”

He growled before kissing you again. His hands found the bottom of your ass and lifted you. As he walked toward his room, he muttered against your lips. “My girl’s trying to fucking kill me. Would have had to kill anyone that saw what was mine. Trying to get me locked up.”

You couldn’t stop a soft laugh at his antics.

Clint grinned and tossed you onto his bed. You squealed in surprise before laughing again. He crawled up the bed until he was laying beside you. His hand ran across your stomach until his fingers found the openings in the dress. He caressed your bare skin. “You sure about this, sweetheart? Because you aren’t the regular groupie. If we do this, you’re mine. And everyone is going to fucking know it.”

The thought of the publicity that would come with being his girl made your head spin, but it was worth it. Of course, it was. You initiated the kiss this time. Soft, sweet, loving. “I’m sure, Clint. Make me yours.”