such_heights | Avengers kissing fest!

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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

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

"Fucking Melbourne, nothing ever goes right in this city," Clint mutters as he watches the extraction team haul the prisoners away. "Always a fucking shitshow."

"We're alive," Natasha says, in a clipped tone. "We got the information, no one necessary died, and we are alive."

"And we're looking so well on it," Clint says pointedly, looking at the arm she's cradling, and the cut on her temple, then at his three broken fingers and ballooning foot.

"You've looked worse," Natasha says, smiling wickedly. "And they definitely look worse." She turns her head towards the three men tied to stretchers. One of them doesn't have many teeth left, and Clint thinks he can see a rib through his shirt. The second is crying, big gasping tears, and he can't get anywhere near enough breath. The third ... well, the third is a mess of muscle and blood, and Clint thinks he might be missing an eye.

"I didn't take his eye," Natasha says. "He was missing that before. But I do now have a a nice marble to add to the collection."

Clint high-fives her, gently, being careful of his wrist and her shoulder. "Fury will be so proud."

She huffs a laugh in response, and then stiffly stands up. "Come on, arrow boy. We both need showers."

--

It isn't until later in the bathroom that Clint really begins to believe they may escape Melbourne with their life. Natasha has confirmed she can't find any bugs in the room, and if she can't find them then he trusts there aren't any, and Coulson has made contact saying he's fine, and they got the intel. Clint feels some of the tension leave his spine, and he carefully strips out of his gear, and goes to join Natasha in the shower. They've done this for years. It started as a quicker way of getting in and out of the bathroom and only having one set of blood to clean away, but now Clint stands, bracketed against the shower wall by Natasha, and lets her kiss him gently along the jawline.

"Safe, we're safe, it's okay," she mutters, and he runs his hands up her sides to check that she is really there, really is right in front of him, and sinks to his knees, kissing his way down her stomach. He keeps his hands running up and down her sides, and then her thighs, until he feels some of the stress and strain leave them and her muttering turns from a message she thinks she's giving him, but that she needs to hear as well, and then does his best to make sure she isn't coherent at all.

Clint lifts up Coulson's injured hand and bows exaggeratedly over it. "The dashing hero." He kisses the knuckles of Coulson's hand then looks up the length of Coulson's arm with a grin. "You are quite welcome."

Whew. *fans self*

"Did you really punch a prisoner?"
Coulson smiles slowly. "Twice."
"Want to get a coffee later?" Clint asks.

Oh, you boys. ♥

Oh! OH OH OH! This is... guh. Poor Loki, poor Thor, poor Odin.

(And if you hadn't mentioned be a non-native speaker, I would never have noticed. Your English is probably better than mine! *g*)

They need a big family hug. And a good therapist.

I'm glad you liked it! <3

Why thank you! *u* You're so sweet!

Hehehe now I feel the urge to write a whole date fic. God I'm a squisher!

Oh god, yes, can this be canon? Please?

Aw, that's just perfect

You can tell Pepper appreciates her professionalism. *nods*

"Tony, we had a deal."

"What? I'm being quiet."

"You're doing that thing."

"I'm a man of many talents, Pep - need a little more specificity there."

"The humming thing."

"I told you, it's a high-frequency resonance from the arc reactor. I could, y'know, shut it off, except-"

"No, you're actually humming. I think it's Black Sabbath."

"Oh. Well, I'm informed I have a mellifluous voice. Jarvis, don't I have a mellifluous voice?"

"Very soothing, sir."

"See, there you go."

"Tony, I'm trying to take a bath."

"And I'm being quiet!"

"Tony...."

"Here, look, I'll kiss it better. You have great ears, have I ever told you that? Very cute. And the little bit underneath smells great. With the bubbles, too, is that lavender?"

Pepper rolled her eyes, reached up to grab the back of Tony's shirt, and pulled him into the bath with her.

I am cackling/laughing out loud and cannot stop.This is the Best Thing Ever!

Awesome. So many layers of awesome. Especially the dress.

These days, Natasha's job involves a lot more literal ass-kicking than it used to, but she was trained in espionage first, and has worked with and trained many others since. She found, over time, that the one thing no one can teach is intuition: taking the measure of a gesture seen once, understanding what an expression means in a fraction of a second, judging the emotional level in a room. It's instinctual, it's cultural, and it is the most vital survival skill she has ever known.

So sometimes Thor drives her crazy with the hand-kissing.

Natasha thought she had it figured out when he did it with Jane and Pepper. She adjusted her theory slightly when he included Madeline, the Stark Tower chef. But when he bestows a kiss on the hand of Wilson, the guy who runs the soup kitchen they just saved from mole people, she gives up and asks.

"It is a pledge of respect and service," he tells her, puzzled, like she's the confusing one. "Informal, of course, and any bonds of allegiance would take precedence. Is it not the same here?"

"Not really," she says. "Mostly, it's seen as a romantic gesture."

"Ah. Yes, it can be that as well, between two who are already intimate," Thor agrees. "But the meaning holds true."

Natasha thinks back to the times she's seen Jane receive kisses before leaving gatherings, correlates to the noise level in the Tower at night, and lifts an eyebrow at Thor. "Service, huh?" she asks.

"Of a sort," Thor says, smug.

Natasha chuckles. "Lucky Jane."

He inclines his head to her, a wicked sparkle in his eyes. "As you say."

Edited 2012-06-28 22:35 (UTC)

- order in tnight? wrking on sthng w Jane -

Pepper took off her earrings and put them in her clutch as she crossed the lobby. She deleted the text and thumbed over to the JARVIS app on her phone.

“JARVIS, is Thor here in the Tower?”

Yes, Miss Potts. He is waiting in Dr. Foster's office. He appears to be quite bored.

“I'll stop by on my way up.” She pushed the button for the correct floor. “I doubt Jane will be getting back down there any time soon.”

Thor and Pepper exited the elevator to the sound of bickering voices coming from the living room. Pepper didn't even try to follow their conversation. She walked over to the bar and poured 2 glasses of wine. She handed one to Thor and motioned for him to follow her to the sofas that faced the large bank of windows overlooking the city.

“Were you and Jane supposed to go to dinner?” she asked as they settled in.

Thor nodded morosely. “It does not seem that we will be on time for our reservation.”

They both looked over to the corner of the room.

“Tweak it a little bit there, maybe add a little more force, and... ta da!” Jane beamed at Tony.

“Wow, good one,” Tony said, clearly impressed. “Now give me one of yours.”

Jane entered a formula into the system, and Tony studied it, left arm folded across his stomach, fingers on his right hand pinching his bottom lip.

“Tony and I were supposed to be going out, too, but now we're ordering in. Would you like me to get something for you and Jane?” she offered.

His stomach displayed perfect timing by growling loudly, and he gave a bashful smile. “Yes, please. I would be quite grateful.”

“Is there anything in particular you'd like? Italian? Greek? American?” She paged through varous menus on her phone.

“Jane has been introducing me to Chinese food, and we have been experimenting with some of the spicier dishes. I find the seafood offerings are most delicious.”

“Chinese it is, then. JARVIS, please have Mr. K's deliver our regular order, doubled, and add Firecracker Prawns, Lamb Szechwan, and....” she studied Thor through narrowed eyes, “Sea Scallops in Garlic Sauce, Hunan Tofu with Pork, and an order of Sweet & Sour Cold Cabbage.”

At once, Miss Potts.

“That should tide you over.” She patted his arm as she got up to head back to the bar.

She went to fill her already empty glass, glanced at Tony and Jane arguing animatedly in the corner, grabbed the bottle and a spare, and returned to the seating area.

She and Thor made some companionable small talk about recently released movies. Pepper was pleasantly surprised by his knowledge of some of the indie pieces she'd seen at the Tribeca Film Festival. He seemed keenly interested in films that gave insight into the human condition.

Jane's raised voice made them pause their conversation. “That's ridiculous! You have to account for the acceleration--”

Tony cut her off, “--and that's why I changed your variables here,” he pointed at something in the schematics, “here, and here.”

“Oh my god!” Jane's face lit up. “That formula has been nagging at me for months! I don't know whether to kiss you, or strangle you for solving it so quickly.

“He hasn't been into being strangled for a few years now,” Pepper found herself responding before she could stop to think.

"Yeah,” Tony added, “being waterboarded kinda puts a damper on breath play--"

"He used to show up to board meetings with the bruises around his neck--" Pepper placed her own hand around her neck for emphasis --

"--not to mention kinda almost dying for a second with that nuke thing."

"--poor Mr. Stephenson used to turn beet red--"

"--you should have let me send that hooker to him for his birthday--"

"--and he would always wear his shirts unbuttoned so everyone could see--"

"I was a bit of a self-destructive bastard back then."

"He really was."

"So, I'd really prefer the kissing if you don't mind.”

"Yes, definitely, the kissing is the way to go," Pepper concluded, waving her once again empty wine glass for emphasis.

Jane stared at Tony like she was mildly shell-shocked.

“Don't tell me you're too chicken to pay up,” Tony dared.

“I'm just reviewing...” Jane replied absently. “I think-- Did your girlfriend just give me permission to kiss you?”

“Did she? Pep?” Tony turned toward her.

“Yes, Tony,” Pepper replied.

“Is that a Yes, Tony, what do you want now?, or is that a Yes, Tony, you can kiss the cute scientist?”

“Yes, you can kiss the cute scientist. That is,” she gestured to Thor, “as long as her very large boyfriend here doesn't object.”

Three pairs of expectant eyes turned to Thor.

He smiled. “By all means, Tony. I think you will be quite pleased.”

Jane gripped Tony's tie and pulled him toward her. They kissed softly, then parted about a minute later.

Tony smirked. “That all you got, Foster, because I gotta say, I was expecting m-- mmfff”

Jane grabbed Tony's shoulders and pushed so that he was leaned back against the table. She wrapped her right leg around his waist. A helpless sort of mewl sounded in his throat as she rubbed against him. He shoved one hand in her hair, brought the other up to cup one of her breasts.

Thor smirked and settled more comfortably on the sofa, eyelids heavy. One of his hands seemed to be making its way toward the fly of his jeans.

Excuse me, Miss Potts. Your order has arrived.

“Oh goody,” she said, taking another sip of her wine. “Dinner and a show. Tonight's turning out to be not so bad after all.”

After the Loki situation, SHIELD takes them both off active duty for a few weeks. Ostensibly it's until all the paperwork clears, but really, Natasha knows, it's because they're resources, and SHIELD is managing them. It doesn't feel like a kindness.

Even less kind to Clint, who isn't just being rested but also watched. A period of observation is understandable after what happened, a new and inexplicable form of mind control for an extended period of time. They can't take Natasha's word for it that he's back--though she thinks Fury's as convinced of that as she is, but he can be surprisingly serious about following procedure, when procedure isn't stupid.

He might have taken Coulson's word that Clint was himself again, and Natasha would have trusted it too. Coulson had been fond of Clint, in his quiet little way, and it had been mutual. Another reason it's hard to be around Clint now, to watch him forced into idleness with no distractions and no mission.

Which doesn't mean she doesn't stay. She's off active duty but she's free to go, at least as free as any SHIELD agent ever is--which is to say, with eyes on her, but just the usual eyes. And she could go anywhere. But Clint can't. To be sure, they're hardly married or even official partners, and she's spent more time on solo missions than working with him since he brought her in. For now, though, she stays. Trains with him, when he doesn't prefer to be alone. Watches movies--he likes big action films, preferably the kind where the villain is some natural disaster. There's alien invasion movies in his collection too--they've watched most of them together--but she suspects the bloom is at least temporarily off that rose.

(He doesn't so much like the movies where the bad guys are other people and the fights are violent orgies of punching and gunplay. Not--she's almost certain--for any deep emotional reason, but because that kind of thing done badly is annoying, and done well it's shop talk.)

He's being kept in SHIELD's New York facility, because the Helicarrier is in dry dock being repaired and upgraded, and anyway it's not really built for long-term habitation. The New York building is a nice enough place, with a big gym that even has an archery range, if only a small one. His quarters have windows. But it's not enough.

"You have to let me take him out," she tells Fury. "We won't leave the city, but he needs a break. Or a mission," she adds, out of no real hope. On that she expects no leeway; 'agent under enemy control' is three to six weeks of observation, depending on the circumstances, and no time off for good behavior. (The observation period doesn't always end happily, but this one will. Because he's fine. It's just the procedure.)

"Do you know how many routes there are out of this city?" Fury says. "I'm not in the mood to blockade Manhattan because Barton got itchy feet."

"I can keep Barton under control," Natasha says. "And he doesn't want to leave SHIELD. Just this building."

"One and a half more weeks and maybe he can."

"He won't--" She stops herself. It isn't true, anyway. Of course he'll make it. Clint's no more fragile than she is. It only feels true, watching him lift weights, shoot arrows a short distance in a straight line, spar with her in a way that feels hollow now that she knows exactly what he's capable of and remembers the taste of his blood. Watching him flinch and carefully relax when some agents had passed them in a corridor, glanced at him, and then the murmured names of two of the agents he'd killed had floated down the hallway after them.

"You know this isn't necessary," she tries.

"It's procedure," Fury says. "For a damned good reason." He looks at her more closely. "But there's no reason you need to stay locked in here with him."

She hasn't, quite. She goes outside, mostly when Clint's made it clear he needs his space for a while. It doesn't seem fair to take off while he's stuck in there, though. And maybe--she knows her own weak points; she has to. When she's away she starts to feel tense. Anything could happen, without her.

Of course she doesn't say anything like this to Fury. She doesn't say, either, We're off active duty because we're your resources, and resources need to be managed, and that's all well and good but you're killing him, and there won't be anything left to burn out if you don't give him some way out of his own head.

She doesn't say, I can't stand watching him like this, and I can't leave.

She says, "Two hours. We'll go to the park."

But Fury knows her pretty well, and he probably hears the rest.

*

Clint's been on edge all day--moreso than usual, which is what prompted her to finally confront Fury. So she doesn't go find him right away. She goes outside, walks a few blocks and drinks some tea at a coffeeshop and watches people. The SHIELD facility is in one of the unscathed sections of the city, but there's reconstruction work underway another few blocks down and the growling hum of equipment carries well.

She heads back in the evening and goes to his quarters. Sharing a bed is an old habit, though in the past it's only ever lasted a few days, after bad missions. This was a bad mission, no question about that, but it's been ten days now since she first slid under the sheets next to him. Well, if he wants it to stop, he'll let her know.

His body is tense alongside hers. He tries to wear himself out but it's the same every night; he only relaxes in his sleep, between dreams. A little of the tension slips away, though, when she presses close against his back.

It's not about sex, between them. That isn't who they are. But this is what he showed her about herself: she needs contact. Just like everybody else.

(You're not a machine, he'd said, they tried to make you into one but you're a person, you don't have to--you get to decide-- Hands on her face, in her hair, his forehead pressed sweaty and hot against hers.)

Natasha rests one hand on his bicep. "You've got a two hour furlough tomorrow," she says. "We're going to the park."

For a minute he doesn't respond. If it weren't for the tautness in his muscles--and if they were other people entirely--she might think he'd fallen asleep.

"Fury's sending me on a field trip?" he says finally. "Thought I couldn't break containment. Thought I might try to run off and do more bad things."

"We'll have chaperones," she says. "Best deal I could cut."

She's seen Clint cry before, once--not including tears from pure physical pain, which are involuntary and signify nothing. Only once. She isn't seeing it now, but with her chest against his back the shaking is pretty unmistakable. She holds on to his arm and rides it out.

"It's only eleven more days," he says eventually. His voice is thick, and wavers a little, but not so anyone else would notice. "Not like they're torturing me in here."

"Yes they are," Natasha says, and presses a quick hard kiss to the back of his neck. "You need a break."

"I need a mission," Clint snaps.

"That deal I couldn't make." She sits up on one elbow and looks at him. She hadn't expected him to get up and dance, but he seems somehow worse. "Clint, what's wrong?"

"That…is a damned good question." His body curls in tighter, away from her. Worry creeps up her spine, cold and grey, even before he goes on. "Maybe I should be in here. Maybe I'm not safe."

"Not safe?"

His clenched fist thumps down on the mattress. "I feel--I don't feel right."

She doesn't have to force herself to consider the possibility. This is the kind of scenario her mind runs automatically, whether she wants it to or not. "You think you might still be under some kind of influence?"

"I don't know!" Another thump. He's turned away so much that he's mostly talking into the pillow now. This is all new, this level of--distress. She's held him through so much, helped him back after torture, after worse things than torture--but this is different.

Do you know what it's like to be unmade? he'd asked her.

Of course she knows.

"Come here," she says, and pulls at him until he rolls over. "Look at me."

He looks. His eyes are hurt, and hollow. "Tasha…"

She touches his face, and his eyes flutter closed again.

"I don't even feel real anymore," he says, very quietly.

Natasha has always trusted her instincts. Clint draws in a shaky breath when she slides her fingers into his hair, and then she's kissing him, holding on and kissing him. His arm lands heavily on her back and clings tight.

It doesn't last so long, not even long enough to leave her out of breath. She doesn't move away, lips brushing his cheek when she speaks. "You're real," she says. "And you're going to be all right again."

He doesn't say anything for a minute, just strokes her back slowly, big hand rubbing up and down, up and down, in time with the puffs of breath against her face.

Finally he says, "You learn that technique from the SHIELD psychiatrists?"

She feels the corner of her mouth twitch, and she lets go of him. "Go to sleep," she says. "We're going to the park tomorrow."

"Yaaaay, walkies," Clint mutters. His grin is only slightly more visible than her own. "You're not going to let me try and slip the handlers, are you?"

"Apparently Fury's not in the mood for an emergency blockade. I even had to promise to stay out of the more wooded areas."

"This fucking job," Clint says, and yawns. The tension isn't gone from his body, but it feels like lying next to a person again, not unexploded ordnance.

Like always, he falls asleep first. Natasha lets herself drift off on the sound of his breath, shallow and steady, close enough to touch.

Are we voting? I vote for date!fic.

Oh, this gave me a wicked chuckle.

This is amazing, I love how you captured them, just on the edge of broken.

Oh goodness, I want this to be a whole story about them being glamourous and dangerous and kicking ass.

This is all kinds of beautiful and achy and raw, and even giggle-inducing at the end.

FEELINGS. OH GOD. THESE TWO. *hearthands*

Oh twist my arm!

Jane, you little minx you! ^_^ Very nice!

ahhhhhh CLINT. NATASHA. This is hurty and so, so good.

"Did you really punch a prisoner?"

Coulson smiles slowly. "Twice."

♥ Love!

<3 thankies

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Page 9 of 26

Avengers kissing fest!

Beware: gory imagery.

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

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

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Re: And it feels so good

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Don't Burst My Bubble (Pepper/Tony)

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Clint/Natasha, "So quietly to catch"

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

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Re: Clint/Natasha, "So quietly to catch"

Re: Clint/Natasha, "So quietly to catch"

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Re: Clint/Natasha, "So quietly to catch"

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