Avengers kissing fest!

[such_heights]

(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

Comments

Re: For science!!

[meinterrupted]

Thanks!

Re: For science!!

[meinterrupted]

Glad you liked!

Re: For science!!

[meinterrupted]

Obviously, it's /only/ for science, right? ^_^

[spicedrum]

=)

I've been reading a lot of angsty and/or porny fic lately, so I thought they deserved a break.

[spicedrum]

=D

They deserve some fluff every now and then.

[redfiona99.livejournal.com]

Natasha/Clint, safe

[meinterrupted]

Clint hates hospitals. He hates the smell, all antiseptic-clean to cover up the stale odor of sickness; he hates the neutral paint on the walls and the plain white tile floors; he hates the judgemental looks the nurses always shoot his way, like he’s about to make off with the entire contents of the pharmacy. But most of all, he hates hospitals because it’s where people go to die.

He’s been sitting at Coulson’s bedside for hours, maybe days. He's not really sure anymore. Normally, he’s good at waiting out the target, sitting back and taking his time to line up the perfect shot. Patience is practically his middle name (along with trouble, obnoxious, and any number of other less-than-flattering terms Coulson’s called him over the years, usually in that exasperated tone) but tonight, there’s nothing for him to aim at. This enemy won’t go down with a well-placed arrow.

He sighs and rubs his eyes, gritty with lack of sleep. Later, he’ll blame exhaustion for the fact that it takes him a full minute to realize that Coulson’s eyes are open, that he’s finally awake and staring at Clint. He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Sir,” he whispers, a question, a prayer.

Coulson tries to talk, his voice barely above a rasp, but he can’t quite form words. Finally Clint shakes himself out of his stupor and grabs the cup of water off the bedside table, holding the straw in place while Coulson drinks. He pulls back after a few swallows. “Talk to me, Barton,” he whispers, his voice wrecked but tone unmistakable.

Clint nearly cries in relief. “We won, sir. Thor took Loki back to Asgard, and Stark blew up the Chitauri planet or mothership, or whatever it was. A lot of the city is rubble, but civilian casualties were less extensive than expected, given the fact that goddamn aliens attacked New York City. Sir,” he adds, belatedly. He can feel the tears threatening to spill over, and he drops to his knees by the bed, clinging to Coulson’s hand. “The director said... We thought you were dead. I thought you were dead.”

Coulson’s fingers twitch under Clint’s, as much motion as he’s capable of right now, and Clint squeezes back gently. “I was,” he rasps. “I got better.”

Clint presses his lips to Coulson’s fingers and lets the tears come.

[meinterrupted]

OH! So freaking heartbreaking.

[meinterrupted]

Steve/Darcy, pin-up

[zvi]

Fury? Rhodey? Pepper? Maria Hill? Sif? One of the Warriors Three?, "if you're my girlfriend's boyfriend's girlfriend's SO, are we dating?" (modify genders as appropriate)

[sohotrightnow]

Tony/Jane, competitive

[liseuse]

Oh, this is beautiful. Thank you! All that feeling. Oh, Clint.

[meinterrupted]

Thank you! I love Phil and Clint and ALL THEIR FEELS!

[spatz]

He does the same to Bruce now, hesitant in a way he'd never be if Bruce were awake, more afraid of himself and his ability to break everything he touches in ways Bruce can't even comprehend than he is of Bruce or the Hulk or even the possible weirdness of getting caught watching Bruce sleep.

Ahhhhhhhhhh, TONY. My heart.

(also, Tony's tumblr would be the best thing in existence - all robots and embarrassing candids of other Avengers and occasionally rants about Hammer Tech and/or smackdowns of people and reblogs of Steve and Thor's hilarious attempts at PR)

Re: uh, mild warning for Clint using Special, Slightly Gorey Imagery

[goodbyebird]

Very awesome <3

Re: For science!!

[spatz]

Jane had always loved science.

Heeeee. God, I can just see Natalie Portman's face saying this.

[spatz]

She teaches him knife vocabulary by *sparring* with him. Oh, Natasha. ♥

Fill: I hear you calling and it's needles and pins (Part 1/2)

[terryh-nyan.livejournal.com]

[I hope I haven't broken the rules of this challenge >__< I apologize in advance if it's not enought of a "kiss"! *crosses fingers* Also I'm not native, so I apologize for eventual mistakes too - espicially with the Odintongue].

---

«Loki Odinson. Thou have been taken before the Court of Asgard as a consequence of thine numerous crimes».

Thor listens to the words flowing, slowly and solemnly, from his father’s mouth. They resonate in every corner of the courtroom, strong, almost making the golden pillars vibrate with the sound of that powerful voice. He can do nothing but focus on them, as he did when he was little more than an ignorant child. He knows what’s coming, knows far too well that it couldn’t be any other way, but there’s this small part of him that’s still naïve enough to hope the judgment that awaits his brother won’t be harder than strictly necessary.

The cheering crowd of Asgardians makes the thought fade and die almost at the same time it springs to life.

«Silence!». The walls tremble with the force of Odin’s resolution, almost like a thunder had just hit them, and the courtroom falls silent again.

«Thou have forged an alliance with the Chitauri and brought them to Midgard, attaining power from the Tesseract thou had stolen. Thou have murdered with thine hands a great number of humans, and murdered still using the Chitauri. Thou have poisoned their minds, with thine scepter and with thine words. And thou art guilty of treason against thine own kin».

Thor listens and drinks all those words in, swallowing hard. He’s never tasted anything that sour, and his chest tightens in pain as his gaze moves from empty space to Loki’s figure.

He’s used to hear his bother being called “silvertongue”, his lips being labeled as “poisonous” – he’s hearing it now, the crowd back to screaming and clattering swords and slamming hands on mahogany tables.

He can understand why: he’s seen Loki’s words throw kingdoms into chaos, tear apart a human mind, honey to the ears of the weak and the strong all the same, but deadly as a snake’s bite. Nevertheless, he remembers what those lips tasted like against his own, and not once Thor has felt the bitter tang of poison on the tip of his tongue.

He can’t say that Loki hasn’t tried persuading him either, to believe in his lies or stand by his side in his madness. But, if he ever tried to poison him, that must’ve been the only time he’s failed.

Thor remembers what his brother’s lips would feel like against his own, and that alone is wrong enough. He can almost feel their touch ghosting on his mouth, the light press of them, cold, but soft and alive. Sometimes they’d just brush, the faintest of touches, a clear teasing to test his patience; others they’d be rough, hungry, and demanding, and he’d find himself unable to do anything but follow.

Now those lips are sealed by a heavy, metallic mask, barely letting him breathe. A prison to all of his words, exactly like it was meant to be.

Fill: I hear you calling and it's needles and pins (Part 2/2)

[terryh-nyan.livejournal.com]

«Therefore, thine punishment shall be adequate, and guarantee the safety of everyone».

Loki’s eyes won’t look at him. They’re chained with their father’s – absent as they’d been staring into the void – so Thor lifts his gaze as well. He doesn’t meet the stern look of an impassive king, but the tired eyes of a suffering father. Months before, he wouldn’t have recognized the cracks in his expression, wouldn’t have noticed those lines on his forehead grow deeper and harder, his own words hurting him like lightning.

Now he does, and he’s grateful he can at least acknowledge and share his pain.

«To prevent thou from being a menace to the Nine Worlds again, thou shall be imprisoned in the deepest cell of the Palace».

He hopes it’s all there, that this is it, but he’s wrong.

The next words freeze him to his seat.

«For thine lips art venomous, and speak nothing but deceptions,» Odin continues, «they shall be sewn together with Eitri’s awl, so that no Asgardian, or Midgardian, shall ever be deceived by thine words again».

The crowd cheers, and Thor wants to scream.

This is too much, he thinks. This is cruel, Father.

He’s about to say it. He’s about to earn himself another punishment, he’s aware of that, but he can’t stay quiet. Loki might have been beyond reason, but he’s still of Asgard. He’s still his brother. And it doesn’t matter to him what any of those fool courtiers think, he’s ready to silence them with the might of Mjolnïr, if he has to.

That’s when his father speaks again, louder, this time, pure thunder shaking the whole building to the very core.

«By the authority vested in me as Odin Allfather, Father of All Gods, King of Asgard and Defender of the Peace among the Nine Worlds, this is my decision and no objections will be tolerated!»

He glances at him. Briefly, but long enough that Thor can see everything that hides behind his tired, old eyes.

I would give anything not to have to do this, son. It’s the best I can do not to condemn him to death.

It’s the first time he’s seen his father look so weak and powerless in his life.

Two guards escort Loki out of the courtroom. The people of Asgard won’t stop cheering.
Loki doesn’t turn his head towards him once.

All that remains of his brother is the ghost of his lips pressing against his own.

Thor knows for sure that, if there’ll ever be one, next time their mouths touch, he will feel the bitter tang of blood on the tip of his tongue.

[spatz]

D'awwww. Banter and hot chocolate! Though I am also sad about the lack of pie puns. You can never have too many of those. ;)

ETA: so, would you call this a 'slice of life' fic? *rimshot*

[liseuse]

There are three things in her life that Darcy can depend on right now.

One: Coulson will always be in the office before she is. No matter how early she gets there. She'd spent three weeks trying to be there before him, and it never fucking worked. So she stopped, and started turning up at 8.50am precisely every morning. Which gave her ten minutes to decide on a playlist to listen to, eat half a sesame bagel and have her best game face on for 9am when the phone starts ringing.

Two: Steve will insist that Tuesday is pizza night. Tony will insist Tuesday is Thai food night. They will arm wrestle over it, and Tony will lose. Because Steve won't let him arm wrestle whilst wearing the suit. Steve will then, every other Tuesday, let Tony have his way and there will be Thai. At this point Darcy thinks the delivery guys know their food intake better than they know their own names.

Three: At exactly 2.15pm on a Friday, Clint will swing by the office, bring her a fancy coffee drink of some description, annoy Coulson for ten minutes and then leave, blowing her a kiss as he walks into the hallway.

Which is why she gets a little bit freaked out when it is 2.20pm on a Friday afternoon and Clint is nowhere to be seen. She hasn't got any texts, from any of the Avengers, so she doesn't think giant robots have attacked New York. Also, she can't see any out of her windows, so she's probably right. Coulson is still in his office, so Clint isn't somewhere with him, and she saw Natasha heading down to the gym after lunch with Hill, so he probably isn't somewhere with Natasha.

She debates sending him a text, asking where the fuck he is, and then realises she has never actually texted him unless it's been an emergency. Surely she can't start now? And how the fuck would that message go? Clint, where are you? I want to know what stupid syrupy concoction you've thought up this week? Yeah, that wouldn't be weird at all. So she sits at her desk, pretends to type up the sitrep from yesterday, flicks through her blogroll and debates getting into an argument via tumblr.

Clint is a no-show, and eventually it's 4.55pm, and Darcy is packing her bag and wondering which bar Thor has chosen for Friday drinks. She has her iPod out, and is looking for something to listen to on the way home, and then Clint pokes his head round the door.

"You!" Darcy says, "You are late!"

"Yeah, sorry about that," Clint says and shrugs. Darcy would start in on a tirade, but she sees his wince as he moves his shoulder, and then clocks the scratch down his cheek.

"You are also hurt," Darcy says, and pulls the first aid kit out of her desk drawer. "Sit down."

"It's just a scratch," Clint says, throwing himself (albeit, gently) into the chair and kicking his heels up on to the desk. "No need to get all Nurse McMahon on me."

"Oh, please," Darcy scoffs as she uncaps the antiseptic and gets a gauze pad out. "As if I would ever wear those shoes. Speaking of shoes, get yours off my desk."

"Yes, ma'am," Clint says, and mock-salutes her. He inhales sharply as she wipes at the cut, and then looks down her top as she tries to work out if it's going to need any butterfly strips. "Nice bra."

"Yes, it is," Darcy smiles. "I'm not going to bother with the strips. You'll only take them off the minute you get out of the office."

Clint tips his head to the side, "Probably. Coulson in?"

Darcy shuts her desk drawer and rolls her eyes. "Of course he is in. You do know he's going to tell you to go to medical to get that shoulder looked at if you go in there? And then you'll have to deal with McMahon."

"Shit," Clint grumbles. "It's just a little strained. I'll have a hot bath and get an ice pack or something."

"I'll make you a deal," Darcy says as she pulls her jacket on. "You buy me a beer, to make up for not getting coffee, and then another beer so I don't rat you out to medical."

"You're on," Clint says and holds his arm out to Darcy. "Come on my lady."

"Also, I want a proper kiss at the end of the night. No more of this blowing them across the room." Darcy grins, taking Clint's arm and flicks her desk-lamp off.

"I should get injured more often," Clint whispers in her ear as they step out of the office.

"Do not even think about it," Darcy warns, and then mentally rewrites her list of things to be counted on, so that it includes Clint sneaking a hand into the back pocket of her skirt. This has to be the end of every Friday.

[spatz]

“Sorry Pepper” he growled, head hung low in shame.

She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek.

CUTEST IMAGE EVER.

[liseuse]

I am sure they come to Darcy as she is falling asleep, so she writes them all down on her phone, and then reads them aloud over breakfast. Only Clint laughs.

*ba-dum-tish!*

[liseuse]

SO MANY FEELS, OMG.

Re: afterparty (aftermath)

[spatz]

Tony lets go of Bruce's wrist and slides his arm around Bruce's shoulders, holding him tight for a second and then loosening his grip, like a sideways one-armed hug. "Don't worry, we'll figure it out," Tony says. "It'll just lead us to a new understanding of matter and energy, that's all."

Perfect, perfect geeky reassurance. I would be comforted, too! (And yes, Bruce, that is exactly like a one-armed hug. Oh, honey.)