coulson clint

you know that one show about saving the world?

the one with a team of unlikely heroes?

who’s leader is a man with an eye patch?

And on the team there’s that dark haired asshole who wears a suit?

Also, the genius with anger issues?

And the badass ninja lady who can kick everyone’s ass?

You know, the one with Hawkeye?

And the precious blond cinnamon roll with armor symbolism?

The show with the immortal blonde guy with the beard?

Who is somehow connected to the villain?

Who has an inhuman army at his command?

Remember? It had that guy who died and everyone was really sad about it?

And who could forget the primary-colored stone of unimaginable power which they are all fighting over!

Marvel Netflix shows we need:

  • Black Widow
  • Hawkeye
  • Howling Commandos
  • Maria Hill
  • Coulson
  • Loki
  • Falcon
  • Peggy Carter (I know we had a show about her, but we need more!)
  • Hulk
  • Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver
  • Steve and Bucky’s life before the war
  • Bucky’s life during Hydra (dark and sad I know.)
  • Budapest
3

anonymous asked:

"Hello handsome stranger, you don't seem very good at hotwiring a car. It's the blue wire you should use. Or would you like the keys instead?"

When Clint walked out of the diner after lunch, the last thing he expected to see was someone attempting to hotwire his car. Judging by the amount of cursing, the thief wasn’t having a lot of luck. Since the thief had left the car door open, Clint watched him struggle for a minute. His would-be car thief was actually quite good looking (from what Clint could see of him, anyway).

Padding over, silently, Clint watched the thief work and tried to figure out why his car was being stolen in broad daylight by a good looking guy in an expensive suit with broad shoulders and clear blue eyes.

“God damn it! Why won’t you start?”

Clint held back a laugh and decided to give the thief a break. It’s not like the car was going anywhere and Clint could easily pull the guy out if he had to. “You’re not very good at this, are you? You’ve got to use the blue wire.”

The thief jumped at the sound of Clint’s voice so close and there was a hollow, ‘thunk!’ as his head hit the roof. “Fuck! Where did you come from?”

“The diner, right over there.” Clint pointed and then cocked his head to the side as sirens started to wail in the distance. “You maybe want to get out of my car? Looks like the police are headed this way for some reason and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind making a quick stop.”

Instead of the answer, Clint was hoping for, his thief started hitting the steering wheel and cursing more. “Those sirens are for me. I’m a cop and the shitty unmarked they assigned me for my latest case stalled as I got the call our perp was making a run for it. He’s headed this direction, so I picked the first car I found that was unlocked.”

Clint leaned on the roof and tried to mask his disbelief. “You may be a good looking guy, but I’m not  dumb enough to fall for that load of bull.”

Before Clint could continue his rant and try and forcibly remove the guy from his car, there was a badge in his face. Taking the badge, Clint whistled low and impressed. The picture on the ID was definitely Clint’s handsome thief and apparently, his name was Phillip J. Coulson and he was a detective for the NYPD.

Coulson snatched the badge back and went back to trying to hotwire the car. “Satisfied?”

“Um, yeah.” Coulson tried another wire and Clint sighed. “Blue wire, detective.” The sirens were louder now and Clint fished his keys from his pocket. “Unless you want the keys?”

Without another word, Coulson grabbed the keys and jammed them in the ignition. Clint leaped back as Coulson pulled the door closed and watched his car speed off.

“You’re welcome!” Clint yelled at the disappearing shape of his car.

“Who are you yelling at?”

“For God’s sake, Nat! I’m gonna put a bell on you one of these days.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

Clint smiled at his best friend and pointed in the direction his car had gone. “Hot cop stole my car. Think the insurance company will actually believe that?”

“I don’t even believe that.”

“It’s the truth. Detective Phillip J. Coulson stole my car and went to chase bad guys.” Clint and Natasha started walking to their shared apartment and Clint recounted the whole story.


–A Week Later–

Clint had just made coffee and was ready to pour himself a cup when he realized there were no clean cups to be found. He was seriously thinking of just drinking straight from the pot when there was a knock at the door.

Shuffling over to the door, Clint tried to hurry, but he could feel his pants starting to slide down his hips. Clint knew he needed to get rid of them since they too big, but they were also soft and comfortable and purple and he still loved them.

The knocking started again and Clint called out, “Hold your horses! I’m coming!”

Yanking the door open, Clint was ready to give whoever it was a piece of his mind but found himself speechless. Coulson was standing there, fist raised to knock again and looking sheepish.

“Good morning, Mr. Barton. I came to return your car.”

Clint stared at Coulson, not hearing a word. And really, who could blame him? Coulson was standing in Clint’s doorway wearing dark jeans and a light blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Clint’s eyes traveled up one strong forearm up to Coulson’s face and the thick, black-rimmed glasses that framed eyes that seemed even bluer now that Clint could get a good look at them.

“Um…I’m sorry, what?”

Coulson jingled the keys in his other hand. “Your keys. To your car?”

Shaking himself, Clint smiled. “Oh! Right! You couldn’t hotwire it. How’d you find me?”

Coulson grinned and Clint was almost distracted by the small crinkles that appeared at the corners of Coulson’s eyes. “The car’s registration.” Coulson’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “And I’m a cop. Finding people is kind of my job”

Clint laughed. “Right, do you wanna come in? Or…?”

Coulson looked nervous again. “Well, I was hoping I could convince you to let me take you out for coffee? As a thank you for letting me take your car. Or, I could just give you your keys and go. I totally understand if you don’t want to ever see me again.”

“I’d like that.”

“Which?”

Clint bit his lip, nervous himself now. “Coffee. With you. Sounds good. I just need to change real quick.” Stepping back from the door, he ushered Phil inside. “Come on in. Promise, I’ll be fast.”

Coulson smiled again and stepped inside and Clint ran to his room to change. He grabbed what he hoped were clean jeans and a t-shirt and quickly got dressed, not wanting to leave Coulson waiting for too long.

When he walked back into the living room, he found Coulson looking at their bookshelves and took a moment for himself to admire the detective’s backside. Clint was about to clear his throat to get Coulson’s attention when the man spoke first. “So you weren’t lying when you called me, ‘good looking’.”

Clint coughed. “What?” Coulson turned and smirked at Clint. “Of course I wasn’t lying. You are good looking.”

“Good. Ready for our date?”

Coulson tossed Clint his keys, and Clint was still shocked by Coulson calling this a date that he let them hit him in the chest. “Date?”

“That’s what I’m hoping this could be. It’s been a long time for me, but I like you and even though our meeting wasn’t exactly conventional, I think we could try.”

Regaining his composure, Clint took a step toward the door and smiled at Coulson. “I’d like that a lot…Phil.”

Coulson beamed back and followed Clint out the door.

Gone - Part 2

As soon as the words leave your mouth you can feel yourself start to panic, you feel everything start to close in, the sidewalk is too loud and strangers too close. You haven’t even realized that you had hit the SOS button on your watch until a car pulls up in front of you and Natasha steps out.

“Птица? What’s wrong?” She grabs your upper arms and locked eyes with you, “Breathe, Y/N, take deep breaths, inhale deeply, hold it, good, not exhale, slowly, breathe with me”

It took a few minutes but eventually you manage to calm down enough to get into the car. “Thank you for coming” you whisper.

You reach out and lay a hand on Tasha’s arm, needing some kind of contact to keep you grounded, to keep you from falling back into a panic.

“What happened back there?”

“I’d rather tell everyone at the same time, I don’t know if I can say it more than that” you murmur, curling up in the car seat.

In the years that you had been with Bucky you had become close to the other Avengers, becoming almost like a Den Mother to everyone else. You were the one who managed to help Steve and Bucky learn that there was nothing wrong with getting seconds, or even thirds. You were the one who dragged Tony and Bruce out of the labs to eat, sleep, and bathe. You loved making sure everyone was taken care of.

After about 30 minutes in New York traffic Tasha was pulling into Avenger’s Tower. Steve and Tony were already waiting in the garage for you two to get back. Steve and Tony each take one of your arms, giving you concerned glances when they see your red eyes. The two lead you up to the common room, where everyone else is waiting.

“I thought you were supposed to be eating lunch with Robocop this afternoon” Tiny said, sitting down next to you on the couch.

You flinch at Bucky’s nickname, “Yeah, we had lunch, and after we finished eating, he-he broke up with m-me, he said that he didn’t’ want to be with me anymore” suddenly the tears that you had been holding back since the café started pouring down your face.

Steve draws you into a tight hug, the super-soldier cradling you gently in his arms as he lets you sob into his shoulder.

“Hush now, doll, it’s alright. Bucky wouldn’t just do something like that, he has to have a reason” Steve whispers, rocking you gently.

You take a deep breath and attempt to stop crying, “That’s not even the worst part” you sniffle and wipe your eyes.

“What else happened?” Bruce asked, he crouched down in front of you, taking one of your hands in his. The others lean in, offering silent support.

You look down into your lap, unable to meet anyone’s eyes, “I’m pregnant, and Bucky’s the father”

After the initial shock, Bruce and Tony take you down to the lab to run a few tests of their own, confirming your pregnancy. After the tests were done you quietly told them that you hadn’t told Bucky about the baby. Everyone agreed to keep your secret, and Steve suggested, more like ordered, you to go to bed, claiming that the emotional trauma had taken its toll on you.

You wrap Steve in a quick hug, “Thank you”

He hugs you back, gently pulling away and holding you by your shoulders, “You know that if you want to keep this a secret you can’t stay in the tower”

Tony piped up from across the lab, “I have houses all over the world if you want to use one of those!”

You nod quietly, “Thank you, Tony, but do you mind if I take a little while to think? I’m gonna need to get all of my stuff from Bucky’s floor, but I don’t really think I can face him …”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call Thor, the two of us will move everything into the spare room on your floor while you get some sleep” Steve reassured, he gently rubbed your shoulders.

You smile and squeeze Steve’s hand and leave the cave. Tasha is sitting on your bed by the time you get up to your floor.

“Are you going to leave the Avenger’s once the baby comes?” She asked, watching as you start to get ready for bed.

You lean over and press a kiss to Tasha’s forehead, “And leave you with all of these boys?! Never! You’re my family, Tasha, everyone here is. I’d never leave you, as long as you don’t mind me being here with a baby …”

Tasha gave you a small smile, “Only as long as you let me babysit the little one, I supposed I can allow you to stay”

“I’ll need your help protecting the baby. Bucky and I both have the serum in us, so I don’t know if that will affect the baby. Whether is does or not, this child will have a target on its back. I can’t protect him on my own”

“Him?”

You smirk, “Just a feeling I have”

Natasha crouches down so she is eye level with your stomach, “I will be the best aunt possible to you, little bird. No one will ever hurt you.”

You can feel tears well up in your eyes, and you pull Natasha into a hug, “Thanks, Tasha”

“I’ll oversee the moving of your things, make sure no one breaks anything and don’t leave anything behind. Sleep now”

“Goodnight, Tasha” Once she leave you lay down and pull up your shirt, “You are going to be the most loved and well protected baby in the whole world. Your Uncles and Aunt will make sure that you want for nothing.”

By the time you wake up the next day, it’s almost time for lunch. You stumble out to the kitchen to find Steve, Clint, and Natasha already there. You inhale the delicious scent of coffee.

“I can’t have coffee anymore” you moan, plopping down at the dining room table.

“No, caffeine is bad for pregnant women. I was doing to research last night. A lot of people said that citrus tea is a good substitute, so JARVIS ordered some last night”

“Thanks, Stevie” you mumble, taking the cup, “I’m really gonna miss coffee”

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll drink your coffee for you” Clint chuckles, taking a huge sip of sugared up coffee.

“Thanks, Clint, I really appreciate that” you say dryly, giving Clint an unimpressed look. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Tony’s compiling a list of properties, Bruce is looking into doctors for you and the baby, Sam had to work, Phil was called into SHIELD late last night, Bucky still hasn’t come back to the tower, and I don’t know where Wanda and Vision are”

You nod quietly and start talking to the other about what you plan to do about hiding your pregnancy. By the end of your conversation you’ve decided what you’re going to do.

Everyone gathers in the common room a few hours later, around lunch, even Thor is there. As soon as he sees you, Thor rushes forward, pulling you into a tight bear hug. Natasha is quick to follow, snapping at Thor, “Be careful! You might hurt the baby”

Thor lets out a booming laugh but set you gently on your feet, “Congratulations on your pregnancy, Little Bird. I am saddened to hear that James does not share your enthusiasm”

“He doesn’t know about the baby, Thor, and I want to keep it that way. He didn’t want to be with me, and I won’t tie him to me with a baby”

Thor nods solemnly, “Of course”

Natasha levels serious eyes on you, “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

You nod, “Yeah, if Tony doesn’t mind” you pause, shifting from one foot to the other, “I’d like to live in one of your houses in Europe. Bucky wouldn’t expect me to leave the country, so that’s exactly what I want to do”

Tony nods, waving his hand, “Of course! You can use as many houses as you want. You can take one of my quinjets, and one of the suits with you”

Natasha marches over until she stands in front of Phil, who’s been quiet so far, with he hands on her hips. “Y/N will need protection, I will be going with her. This pregnancy has never been recorded, there might be complications, and I do not want her to be alone”

Thor’s booming laugh echoes around the room, “Son of Coul would not dare earn your scorn, Lady Natasha! I would also like to accompany Y/N on her journey.”

You give Thor a shove, note even moving him, “I don’t want to leave the Avengers without back-up. What if something happens!?”

“I can be anywhere on Midgard within moments, and Natasha will not take no for an answer. It would be best to allow her to accompany you”

Steve steps forward, throwing his arm across your shoulder, “Don’t worry about us. Sam and Rhodey agreed to move into the tower while you and Tasha are away. If anything happens JARVIS will be able to let you know”

Indeed, Ms. Y/N. All of Sir’s properties are equipped to support my technology

“Thanks JARVIS, that actually makes me feel a lot better.”

“Will you be returning to the tower after the baby is born? And will you be rejoining the Avengers?” Phil asks.

“I’d like to come back, and I’d like to still be an Avenger. I understand if you would rather I not live here though. I won’t be easy raising a child …”

“A babe is a most precious gift, something to be treasured and loved” Thor murmurs

Tony rolls his eyes, “I would be upset if you didn’t come back! How an I going to prove that I’m a better Uncle than Bird Brain over there, if you don’t come back?!”

Clint snorts, “No way in hell will you be a better uncle”

“Neither of you will be the favorite, that will obviously be me!” Steve calls out as he walks into the kitchen, “I mean wat kid wouldn’t love to have Captain America as an uncle?!”

“You may be Captain America, Steven, however, I am a god!” Thor shouts

Lunch dissolves into everyone shouting why they would be a better uncle. Natasha sits next to you and smirks, already knowing that she’s going to be the coolest out of everyone

Two days later you are waving at everyone as the ramp of the quinjet. You flop into the seat, Thor is across from you, and Tasha is ready to fly the jet.

“Last chance guys, once we take off you’re stuck with me for the next 9 months”

“My comrade may have abandoned you, Y/N, but I intend to stay with you until the child is born, and then after”

“I as well do not wish to leave you in such a delicate state” Thor reached across the aisle and placed a hand on your knee, “Do not doubt your worth to us, Little Bird. We will not leave you unprotected, ever”

You give Thor a soft smile, and a quiet “Thank you”

Turning you look out the window and watch as Avengers tower gets smaller and smaller on the horizon. Soon enough it’s gone, just like you.

anonymous asked:

Phil is planning to quit his job in SHIELD and move away. Clint needs to either figure out the way to make Phil stay or come clean about his feelings. (Or both :) )

Author’s note: these two prompts just seem to go hand in hand (kinda like Phil and Clint). To both Anons, thank you and I hope you don’t mind I put them together in one fill.

- Lola

He’s thought long and hard about it. He believed he was strong enough to handle anything that SHIELD could throw at him but it turns out he’s not. Not anymore.

To be that close to someone for so long and not be able to tell them how you feel; to not be able to act on those feelings. To feel the heat of their skin beneath your hands, their warm breath against your cheek, their tears on your fingertips not because you’re making love slowly, passionately with all the time in the world but because you’re keeping pressure on a wound desperately trying to stop them from bleeding out. To stroke their hair and wipe the sweat from their eyes while they hold tight to your hand not with love but from pain. To never be able tell them “I love you. It’ll be okay because I love you and we’ll get through this together.”

You get through it, that first time then the next, until one day it all becomes too much.

No. He’s not strong enough. Not anymore.

It’s time.

***

“What’s this?” asks Fury peering at the manilla file with SHIELD CONFIDENTIAL stamped across it in large black letters as though it might be contaminated. In his line of work, it’s always possible.

“My resignation,” Coulson tells him dropping into the notoriously uncomfortable visitor’s chair on the opposite side of the desk.

“Hmmm. I’ll bite. Why is your resignation sitting on my desk, Senior Agent Coulson? And don’t get comfy. You can’t come in here, toss that on my desk, and sit your ass down like you’re here for a scotch and a chat.”

Coulson makes himself comfortable anyway – he’s the only one who can – while Fury pours the scotch. He accepts the drink, takes a sip and says calmly, “It’s time.”

Fury doesn’t bother sipping. He downs his in one and refills the glass.

“Shit,” he mutters.

They joke about a couple of times a year, especially when things are rough and friends and colleagues are injured… or lost. They joke about jacking it in and retiring to some small town or tropical island and doing civilian shit like teaching or becoming a mechanic or running a bar. Then they get drunk and start the spy shit all over again. But Coulson; Fury’s sharpest recruit, his one good eye, his… friend, once told him the day he said “It’s time” it was real. A point of no return had been reached and he wasn’t coming back from it. He had thought it was still a long way off but… guess not.

“You told them yet?”

Coulson shakes his head and takes another sip.

“You told him yet?”

Coulson drops his gaze. Fury sighs.

“Why don’t you just…”

Coulson cuts him off. “You know why.”

His voice is still calm but now there’s a slight edge to it and even Fury understands that pushing Coulson when he’s like this is a lost cause. He’ll get up and walk out and there’ll be no more talking. Ever.

“Mother-fucker!”

***

“I wanted to tell you two first. I owe you that.”

That brings the two of them up short from their ear flicking and rib poking of each other.

Coulson’s leaning against the front of his desk, arms folded across his chest, head tilted slightly to the side. Not his ‘duty stance’ which would be worrying. He’s relaxed, chilled even but something’s off.

“Fuck, boss! You’re not dying are you?” Clint asks… well demands.

Natasha gives his ear another painful flick. He pokes her ribs. Coulson rolls his eyes.

“I’m retiring.”

“Oh… is that all? Thought it was life or death or s’mthin.”

Natasha ceases all teasing and stares at her handler with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

“Really?”

Please don’t say it. Please don’t say it. Please don’t say it she recites in her head over and over.

He’d confessed all to her years earlier when they’d almost lost Clint on a mission gone wrong. He hadn’t meant to but his face gave him away. She’d slipped into the hospital room when Coulson was watching over him. The tears on his cheeks hadn’t quite dried and they’d glinted when he’d looked up to see her waiting silently by the door. But it was the look of absolute love and adoration and pain on his face just before he lifted his head which told her everything she would ever need to know about how he felt. His words later were merely confirmation of that which she’d already guessed.  

But he says it.

“It’s time.”

She closes her eyes for a moment then opens them again. The sadness in them is almost too much for him and he clenches his jaw bunching the muscles together in hard lump much like the one in his throat. She nods her acceptance and he nods his gratitude. They won’t speak of it again and she’ll keep the promise she’d made those years before. Clint won’t find out from her.

Oblivious Clint asks, “So if you’re retiring can I have your office?”

Coulson snorts and unfolds himself from his position and returns to his chair on the other side. “Hardly. Jasper’ll need somewhere to hide from you when he takes over.”

“Never worked for you.”

***

“He’s leaving,” Natasha says.

“He’s not,” Clint argues, bored with the conversation already. “He always says that when one of us gets hurt. And this time it wasn’t even that serious.”

In the scheme of things, he’s right. A couple of cracked ribs, a black eye and plenty of cuts and bruises were nothing spectacular. But for Coulson his “one day” had arrived and he wasn’t coming back from it.

“You have to convince him to stay.”

“He’s not…”

“Clint,” she says sharply. He flinches.

“Do you trust me, little bird?” she continues gently, regretting that she made him jump.

“Always, Tasha.”

“Then convince him to stay… or tell him how you feel.”

He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to.

She touches her hand to his face and whispers softly, “Tell him. He’s moving back to Wisconsin in two months.”

***

When he finds out she’s right, Clint tries everything. Cajoling, threats, jokes, begging, the silent treatment. Being awesome, being a dick, being a complete and utter pain in Coulson’s ass… And with each new attempt, Coulson gives him that little half-smile and says quietly, “It’s time.”

Clint’s heart is breaking. The realisation finally hits him, Coulson – his rock, his comfort, his protector, the fucking love of his life – is leaving and there’s nothing he can do. His heart… his world… is falling apart.

He tries one last thing.

“Okay. I get it. You’re retiring. Moving back to Hicksville USA to teach high school students about Captain America and the Howling Commandos.”

Coulson snorts. He’s already considered how to work them into his lesson plans.

“Can I call in one last favour?”

“Pretty sure you’re on negative favours by now, Barton,” Coulson tells him with an amused look.

“Yeah, well probably but… y’know. One last negative favour?”

Coulson smiles properly, with dimples and creases in the corners of his eyes, which almost succeeds in cleaving the archer’s heart in two. But he ignores that sharp pain and does everything he can to hide his feelings. As usual.

“It’s still no for the office.”

Clint gives him a pitiful look; it’s not hard to do.

“Okay. One last negative favour,” Coulson agrees.

“Help me sort out my apartment.”

“Clint, by the time we do that I’ll be dead of old age never mind retired!”

Clint pulls out all the big guns and gives him a pitiful look and the puppy dog eyes. 

Coulson sighs. “Okay but… I’m putting a time limit on it. I move in a few weeks. Still have to pack.”

“I guess I could help…”

“Guess? Barton You’ll be with me 24/7 for the next week plus the few hours it takes to pack up my stuff.”

Clint ignores the comment about the time it will take to pack Coulson’s entire apartment. He has one week to change Coulson’s mind.

***

In the end it takes one box… well trunk.

“Can you give me a hand with this?” Clint asks dragging it out from a cupboard. They’ve worked pretty solidly for two days. Found a routine with the clearing and cleaning working smoothly as a team… as always. It saddens them both.

“Fuck, Barton! You got a dead body in there you’re not telling me about.”

Clint grins. “Nah, boss. You know I always tell you about those before I ask you to help bury them.”

Coulson huffs out a soft laugh that raises the hair on Clint’s arms and neck.

“You start, I’ll grab some beer.”

“Not gonna explode is it?”

“Ah… no?”

“Not encouraging, Barton.”

Clint gives his handler, soon to be ex-handler if this doesn’t work, a few minutes to uncover his treasures. They’re worthless to anyone but him. Useless trash really but he hopes they​ might mean something to Coulson. Might explain how he feels about the other man.

When he returns to the bedroom Coulson’s sitting with his back against the wall, surrounded by bits of paper (ticket stubs, torn flyers, rejected mission reports…); broken items (a watch, a fountain pen, a pair of glasses…); stuffed toys (an overstuffed bear, a dog missing an eye, a knitted purple elephant); a box full of bottle tops; a bag full of candy bar wrappers, another with hospital tags… a brick, a piece of rubble and a pile of stones… and so much more Coulson Phil recognises as going back almost ten years.

The elephant’s in Phil’s lap and he’s absently rubbing its ear. He looks up at Clint, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“All this time?” His voice is hoarse with emotion.

Clint shrugs then nods. He doesn’t move for a moment, standing awkwardly with the two bottles. He sets them down and slowly walks forward, as though not to spook the other man, and sits beside him on the floor. Phil’s eyes never leave him.

Their arms are touching, just enough to feel the warmth from the other. Phil lets his hand slide down to Clint’s resting on the floor, and brushes his knuckles against the archer’s. Clint takes his hand and carefully threads their fingers together.

“Stay,” Clint tells him softly leaning in towards him.

Phil squeezes his hand gently and nods. The kiss when it happens is a tender brush of lips before they rest their foreheads together. The rest will come but for now they’re happy just being like this.

***

“What’s this?” asks Fury peering at the manilla file with SHIELD CONFIDENTIAL stamped across it in large black letters as though it holds an wanted surprise within. In his line of work, it’s always possible.

“My request for reinstatement,” Coulson tells him dropping into the notoriously uncomfortable visitor’s chair on the opposite side of the desk.

“Hmmm. I’ll bite. Why is your is your reinstatement request sitting on my desk, Senior Agent Coulson?”

Coulson accepts the offered glass of whisky, takes a sip and says calmly, “Because I’m getting married and I’d like to work alongside my husband.”

Fury smirks and tips his glass in a celebrity toast. “'Bout fucking time. Here.”

“Not going to explode is it?” Coulson enquires suspiciously, stopping another manilla file with SHIELD CONFIDENTIAL stamped across it in large black letters from sliding off the desk with his forefinger.

“You have to get over the whole exploding items thing, Cheese. Your first gig as Level Eight. We found Captain America.”

anonymous asked:

One of them is a dragonrider. He really loves his duty - and his dragon, but relationships would be much easier if the damn wyrm wasn't so jealous of his attention and picky on who's worthy of their rider...

The working title for this is: Five Times Clint’s Dragon Prevented Him From Having Sex and the One Time She Approved of his Partner

Needless to say that this has some other ships besides ClintCoulson.  It’s also NSFW!

There is a read more!

“I’m sorry, she usually doesn’t leave me at the bottom of the tower,” Clint said, eying his date as the walked up the spiral staircase to the top of the Tower of Dragons. The hike up the stairs was really killing the passion that had started below at the festival.  Clint frowned, wishing he hadn’t stupidly claimed the highest apartment in the tower.  Draka always waited for him to fly him up though until now.

Apple, no, Strawberry, nope that wasn’t right either.  Cherry? Yes, Cherry!  Cherry looked at him and then looked up.

Only halfway there, Clint thought following her look.  

Cherry huffed, before turning.  "This is so not worth it"

“Cherry,” Clint called down to her, following her for a few steps.  "C'mon, we’ll be there in no time.“

"No way,” Cherry declared, gesturing wildly as she walked downstairs. “Totally not worth it.”

Keep reading

2

The Avengers

B-DAY

Imagine Being Natasha’s Mate

For My Followers

Heels clicking on the tile, you softly hum as you walk towards your bosses office.

You’re Phil Coulson’s kick ass assistant.

Opening the office door you stroll in without a care only to stop short upon seeing Black Widow with Clint.

“Phil! Clint has something to tell you!” you call and shuffle your feet nervously. The Widow is staring at you with her piercing green eyes.

Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, was sent to kill Black Widow but it seems he decided to bring her in.

“(Y/N) meet Natasha Romanoff,” Clint greets and gestures to the red head. You hold out your hand to her and she takes it.

As soon as your skin touches your knees buckle and you gasp.

This is her, this is your alpha.

Before you collapse to the ground Natasha scoops you up into her arms and nuzzle her head in your neck.

“What seems to be the problem (Y/N)?” Phil questions and comes walking in. Natasha promptly growls at the presence of a new alpha. Clint is Phil’s omega mate. “Oh.”

“Phil! Look Black Widow is (Y/N)’s mate! That means we have to keep her!” Clint exclaims and barrels into Phil’s arms. “She’s not that bad I promise.”

“If you don’t leave me with my mate right now I promise I can get that bad,” Natasha threatens in a voice that makes you swoon.

“I’ll be fine Phil! Leave!” you insist.

Phil rolls his eyes and lets Clint pull him from the room.

Once you’re alone the Widow places you on Phil’s desk and cups your face.

“Can I mate you?” she asks in a gruff voice. “I promise I’ll never hurt you. I vow to care for you until my dying day.”

Gazing into her eyes you end up completely disregarding everything she’s done and just nod your head.

“Yes you can mate me,” you reply. Natasha purrs and captures your lips in a bruising kiss.

You can see yourself enjoying your future together.

anonymous asked:

I saw this tweet on the tonight show: I was looking up a guys info on a college computer. Heard his voice from behind me telling me how to correctly spell his name. And I just immediately thot of Clint looking up Phil. I hope you find this as entertaining as I do :) please and thank you

“It’s got a ‘u’ in it.”

The soft voice over Clint’s shoulder hits him like a sledgehammer. His whole body goes on red alert, and he can even hear the Star Trek alarm klaxons pounding his ears.

Is it possible for a person to blush everywhere?

“Um.” - is his witty rejoinder, followed by a dry, heavy swallow. Clint’s sure the entire campus computer lab must be staring, since he’s suddenly transformed into a pulsing star going supernova.

The owner of the soft voice reaches over Clint’s shoulders to the keyboard, and he finds himself mesmerized by his fellow student’s forearms - freckles. pale hair. gold watch. memorize dammit! - as he clears the Google search field and begins to type.

“C-O-U-L-S-O-N.” He hits Enter, and unconcerned with Clint’s mortification, Google smoothly fills the screen with a page of links. Most of the articles laud some accomplishment or other, Clint notes vaguely - high school valedictorian, a sports win, an ROTC meet, Dean’s list. Clint picks at a frayed thread on his ratty jeans.

Coulson-with-a-U circles Clint’s task chair to lean against the edge of the desk. “Philip - one L - middle initial J., if that’ll help.” He grins, soft and easy. “Or Phil, to friends.”

“Um. Hi. Clint.” He tries for a nonchalant wave, achieves a small flap of fingers. “Barton.” His other hand tugs nervously at his too-big T-shirt.

Philip-with-one-L nods, lips pursing, as if to say Of course, I knew that already. Which is ridiculous. Clint sits in the far back of the one history class they share. Slouched down in the back row. While Phil-to-friends, in the center of the room, engages. With the material. With the professor. With the other students. With an earnest, glowing passion for the subject that fascinates Clint. Who tries his hardest to melt into the room’s puke-tan walls.

So of course, Coulson-with-a-U can’t possibly have noticed him. It’s ridiculous.

…isn’t it?

Phil’s barely had time to blink as this flashes through Clint’s mind, making him blush still deeper.

“Nice to meet you. Officially.” Phil’s smile broadens. “So, Clint. Barton.” He glances back at the monitor. “Are you feeling lucky?”

Reading a fic about my OTP and it reaches the smut scene
  • Me: *stops reading*
  • Me: *pours glass of wine*
  • Me: *takes cleansing breath*
  • Me: let's do this