Apples and Donuts (Rogers/Barton x reader)

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Steve was by no means perfect; sure, he carried that wholesome and honest persona, and physically he was the picture of goals, but despite the outward perception, he was just as flawed as anyone else. On the battlefield he was assured and confident, beyond capable and unbelievably strong, but at home in his personal life, he had insecurities and doubts that made being in a relationship with him very difficult. He had fears about putting you in danger that left him unwilling to bend, and they all but crippled him in committing himself to anything that could last with you. He always carried the fear that either you would be hurt someday, or that he would be lost and cause you pain after he was gone. Most of his fears felt irrational to you, but to Steve, they were as real as the feelings for you that he couldn't deny. You knew that if Steve loved you, it would be with everything that he had, and he would value you above anything else. Steve was the choice to make for a life of safety, but it would also be a guarded one that he could one day run from under the excuse of keeping you out of harm's way.

Clint, on the other hand, was even further from perfect than Steve was. Comparing the two men was like comparing apples to donuts; one was the healthy, logical choice that would be the safe bet, and the other was the more indulgent and carefree choice that would likely just be bad for your health after too long. Time with Clint was never boring, to say the least, and barely a minute went by that wasn't fun. Sure, he would never do anything to put you into danger, and he held some of the same fears that Steve had, but Clint was more likely to set those aside in the name of a good time. He knew that you could handle yourself, and that with the pressures of being on a team like the Avengers, good times came few and far between. Clint was the clear choice for a life of adventure, but life couldn't always be lived with the hope that the worst might be avoided by luck alone; with Clint at your side, it was more than likely that you would see that day come.

So now, as you faced both men as they stood before you, waiting for an answer as to which of them you were going to choose, your mind was frozen and left your voice mute. They were so similar and different in so many ways, that the idea of choosing one over the other for any given reason was absurd to you. You cared about both of them, and could see yourself with either, but you cursed yourself for getting into this situation in the first place. It wasn't like you had done this on purpose; the more time that you spent with each of them only led to more opportunities to fall hard, and fall you did.

"(Y/N)?" Steve coughed out quietly, interrupting your thoughts. "We're gonna need an answer here."

"Yeah, (Y/N)," Clint joined in, "I think you should hurry up and let Cap off the hook."

"Let me off the hook?" Steve huffed, turning to his teammate. "I think you're being a little presumptuous, Barton."

"How do ya figure?"

"If she's looking for someone to hang out with, you're definitely in the running for best friend, but beyond that-"

"Well excuse me for enjoying a little fun," Clint laughed in retort, "but she's looking for more than a bodyguard at her side anytime she goes out. You spend more time worrying about what you're doing than you do actually enjoying it."

"How would you know?"

"Come on, you're Steve."

"Meaning?" Steve snapped, standing just a little bit taller over Clint, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The two men had quickly shifted what had been their confrontation with you into an argument between them as if you weren't even standing there.

"Meaning, you never just let go and have fun. (Y/N) isn't going to want to spend every night holed up in the compound because you're too scared to live a little. Not everything is a threat, and you don't always have to be watching your back."

"And not everything is fun and games, and one day you're going to get her hurt because you aren't being careful enough."

"You're so old, Rogers."

"You're so immature, Barton."

The two were now taking angry steps towards each other, their proximity so close now that even the slightest unplanned movement could end in contact that would start a fight. Your goal was never to pit the two friends against each other, and it left you feeling remorseful and uncomfortable to be standing here and watching the argument unfold. You were the only one who would be able to put a stop to it, and it could only be by giving them an answer once and for all. When you finally spoke up and broke into their banter, they turned to look at you eagerly, each of them wanting you to choose in their favor more than anything.

"Alright, that's enough," you broke in, looking from one man to the other, "I've made my choice..."

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