such_heights | Avengers kissing fest!

(Me? Procrastinating on my own fannish projects? Never!)

I declare a festival of kissing for my pretty summer fling fandom. Avengers movieverse, all characters, all ships and no ships, all fanworks.

THE RULES:

01. Leave a comment with two or more characters from the Avengers movieverse who you'd like to see kiss. You can include a prompt if you like as an optional extra for the prompt-filler.
02. Reply to a comment with a fanwork in which those characters kiss. The kissing can be platonic or romantic, on the mouth or the cheek or the forehead or the shoulder or anywhere else that you like.
03. All fanworks welcome, including art/podfic/vids/icons/recs/meta/fic etc. Multiple fills for the same prompt are encouraged. Replying to your own prompt is fine. Anon commenting is fine. Coming back and posting a fill two months later is fine.

\o/

eta: fills so far:

Bruce/Clint
by estelendur

Bruce/Natasha
by musesfool

Bruce/Pepper/Tony
by d_generate_girl
by such_heights

Bruce/Tony
by musesfool
by thingswithwings
by florahart
by estelendur

Bucky/Natasha/Steve
by hederahelix

Bucky/Steve
by gorgeousnerd
by jain
by laylee

Clint/Coulson
by sunnyrea
by meinterrupted

Clint/Darcy
by liseuse
by liseuse 2
by grammarwoman

Clint/Hill
by stevie

Clint/Natasha
by recessional (contains gory imagery)
by liseuse
by liseuse 2 (gory imagery)
by some_stars
by recessional 2
by ceridweyn_lin
by recessional 3
by recessional 4
by anonymous

Clint/Steve
by longwhitecoats

Clint/various
by ashen_key

Coulson/Fury
by emmypenny

Coulson/Steve
by estelendur
by such_heights

Darcy/Jane
by meinterrupted

Darcy/Thor
by florahart

Darcy/Steve
by musesfool
by liseuse

Fury/Hill
by longwhitecoats
by igrockspock

Fury/Steve
by jain

Heimdall/Loki
by just_ann_now

Hill/Natasha
by just_ann_now
by liseuse

Hulk/Pepper
by spicedrum

Jane/Tony
by spicedrum

Loki/Thor
by terryh-nyan
by longwhitecoats

Natasha/OFC
by ashen_key

Natasha/Pepper
by thingswithwings
by such_heights

Natasha/Rhodey
by sinensis

Natasha/Steve
by liseuse
by musesfool
by spicedrum

Natasha/Thor
by spatz

Pepper/Tony
by thingswithwings
by spatz

Rhodey/Tony
by spatz

Steve/Thor
by estelendur

Tony/team
by such_heights

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

In real life, things take a long time to get better. And sometimes, they just don't.

Natalia isn't sure which one this is. If she could go back in time, she'd honestly change their places: she knows what having her mind overwritten does to her, and yes, it's fucking awful and yes, every time it happens or threatens to happen it's several months of stitching herself back together and shoving herself through the hard places through sheer force of will, but she knows, and eventually there's just her. The "her" that she's made. That she's hammered out of what she wants, because frankly, she can't trust anything she remembers before the day she was sent out on that last mission before -

Before SHIELD. And everything associated.

Everything that makes up her self is safe, because she damn well made it herself.

It would have sucked. It would have been hell. But she'd know where it would all end. And she'd know, the way only someone who's been powerless over and over again knows, that it wasn't her fault. That there are some things no one can fight.

With Clint, she's . . . not sure. That feels like disloyalty, tastes of sour milk and rot in her mind, which is another thing she'll happily lay at that fucking would-be-god's door. Clint's not someone she should ever doubt.

Tonight, she finds him on the floor of the Manhattan apartment they're sharing, on SHIELD's dime. Natalia doesn't want to be here, and she doesn't think Clint does either, even if he's never done anything but shrugged. She wants to be four hundred miles from any more than a hundred people, up some mountain somewhere, with a good surveillance system and weeks worth of provisions. Clint would probably at least be with her on the "up a mountain" bit. So if SHIELD and the Council want them here, in easy reach, SHIELD and the Council can pay for it.

She finds him on the floor, his back against the supporting wall and face to the windows, knees bent, and his loaded P30 on the floor beside him. At least, she assumes it's loaded. His arms are propped on his knees and his head is bowed.

Natalia sighs, drops her bag and keys and jacket on the floor - fuck neatness, for the moment - and comes and sits down beside him. When she moves to pick up the gun, he twitches a hand towards it; she pauses, looks at him and says, "Don't make me fight you for the gun. That would be embarrassing."

His mouth twists, but he doesn't interfere as she picks up the gun and unloads it, including the round in the chamber, throws the magazine to the other side of the room and the loose bullet in the opposite direction, and then flicks the safety on. "What the fuck were you going to do with that?" she asks, quietly.

Clint stares out the window and when he speaks, it isn't really an answer. "I don't know if I can do this," is what he says, in his flattest and most monotone - and most honest - voice.

Hearing her own doubts out of his mouth sends ice and iron up her spine and makes her want to kill something; failing that, she says, in her own coldest and most definite voice, "Of course you can." When he looks at her - knowing that when she talks like that she's saying the words with everything she is, a prediction of the future more than anything else, she says, "If I have to drag you through this by the hair, I will do so."

She says it in Russian, too, just to drive home the point.

"He's gone," she adds, when Clint looks away. "Barton." She reaches over and makes him look at her, catching his jaw in one hand. "He's gone."

"And what if he isn't?" Clint demands. He jerks his head back; his eyes are guarded and his mouth is twisted. "What then, Tasha?"

Natalia takes a deep breath and doesn't call him any of the things she doesn't really mean, wouldn't want to say except that he's fucking with the foundations of her world and it isn't even him, it's Loki. "Then," she says, calmly, "I will lock Dr Foster in a small room in fucking Azerbaijan until she makes me a new inter-world bridge and then I will start killing people until someone is Asgard tells me how to fucking fix this."

"You have bolt-holes in Azerbaijan?" Clint asks.

"Don't try to change the subject."

Clint puts his face in his hands, and for six breaths - his breaths, she counts - he doesn't say anything. Then he sits back up and holds one forearm with the other hand. "Sorry," he says. "I'm sorry. I'm not - today isn't good."

"Barton, if you ever fucking apologize to me again," she says, with feeling, "for something like this, I will kick your ass. And I won't kiss it better afterwards."

Clint makes a noise that might be a laugh or might just be the sound of someone being strangled and trying to breathe. But he manages, "Duly noted, Agent Romanov," before his head falls again.

Natalia waits. Then she reaches over and worms her hand into his free one, arm crossing over one of his and under the other. "Hey," she says. "It'll be fine. You're here. You're safe. It's over. This is just . . . ." she sighs. "The really fucking shitty aftermath."

Clint doesn't say anything, but he does let his fingers interlace with hers, and kisses the back of her hand.