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I've been REALLY LAZY about posting things that I wrote last week. I told myself that I'd do it when I was around a mouse again (because I hate copying and pasting from a laptop) but I've been back for DAYS and haven't gotten around to it!
These are courtesy of the Kissing Post at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
be_compromised.
Title: Practice Makes Perfect
Fandom: Avengers movie!verse
Characters: Clint/Natasha
Word Count: less than a comment's worth since this is comment fic
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
quennessa requested a Sneak Attack kiss
Summary: Moving into Stark Tower is fine as long as he gets to keep what's really important.
Stark Tower was a revelation to Clint. For a person who always considered SHIELD headquarters to be the epitome of comfort (because doors that closed and LOCKED were something of an anathema where he came from), the tower was a revelation. Comfort and fashion co-existed in a way that he only thought possible on TV.
"And this is your room."
Clint looked over at Pepper, his face as blank as he could make it. "My room?"
"If you'd like it to be." Pepper consulted the Stark Tablet as if it held the answers to the situation. "Of course, you're welcome to change anything if you'd like. Please consult JARVIS if you'd like to take out a wall but everything else is completely up to you."
She continued to talk, expanding on something or other that he quit listening to after he realized it was just conversation filler and had nothing to do with him, but finally came up with a good excuse to leave him alone in the room while she continued on with her much more pressing duties.
The quiet made the room feel more ominous, as if he should have left, as well. There was nothing very comforting here. The chairs weren't chairs so much as metal slats covered in fabric that might rip if he tried to get too comfortable. The bed didn't look any better. He was scared to check out the bathroom in case that proved to be completely unusable.
"This your room?"
He took a deep breath as he turned to face the door. It no longer surprised him that Natasha had the ability to sneak up on him but he normally tried to keep from reacting. Now he didn't think he had it in him to lie to anyone else.
"Yep. This is all mine." When she uncrossed her arms and walked into the room, he struggled not to push past her out into the hallway where he would be able to somehow find the right elevator to take him down to the main doors and freedom. "And how is yours?"
"I hate it."
It took a moment for Clint to realize what she'd said. "You... hate it?"
"It's blue. I hate blue. Yours is blue, too. You hate blue. And these aren't chairs. They're instruments of torture. On second thought, keep these. I think we can make use of them but get rid of the bed."
"Because it's blue?"
She smirked at him. "No, because it looks like it would fall apart with one decent workout."
"Workout?"
This time she gave him a withering frown. "Workout. On a bed. Has it been that long, Clint, that you've forgotten what a bed should really be used for?"
"Not completely my fault. Work got in the way. As did a continent, a guy with a glowing staff, and a swarm of robot aliens."
Natasha didn't appear to be paying any attention to his excuses. Instead, she was pulling out the drawers of the bedside table. "Hey, did you see this?"
"See what?"
When he was within arm's length, she lashed out with a leg, wrapping it around both of his so that he had two choices: either fall against the window or onto the bed. Because he was smart, he took the bed.
One good bounce was enough to confirm that she was wrong. The bed would stand up to a decent workout. Unfortunately, it would be the most uncomfortable workout he could imagine. She held him in place with a hand on his chest as she bent down and covered his mouth with hers. It was everything he hadn't had in over a month, slow and thorough and completely Natasha.
"What was that?" he asked as she pulled back.
"A kiss. Have you forgotten what those are, too? Seriously, Barton, do you have to have constant reminders about these things?"
"Yes." He took hold of her hand and pulled so that she had no choice but to fall back on him. "How about you stay here and catch me back up on how it works?"
"Here?" When she looked up at the blue room, he followed her gaze. Instead of seeing somewhere he could never imagine living, he started to see possibilities. A new color on the walls and completely different furniture, of course, but it didn't seem nearly as horrible as it had.
"Yeah. Here." He reached up to touch her cheek. "You've got something. Right there."
Instead of reacting, she smiled. "What is it?"
"My lips."
"You're learning," she whispered as he kissed his way from her cheek to her mouth. He was going to need a lot more practice to make up for all that time he'd wasted.
And the second one...
Title: Realiziation (on a tank)
Fandom: Avengers movie!verse
Characters: Clint/Natasha
Word Count: another comemnt fic
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:sunny_serentiy asked for possible sexing on a tank and, by golly, I wanted to make that happen.
Summary: For the moment, they're alone in the middle of a dead battlefield. What a perfect opportunity for some kissing.
The world was on fire. Ash came down in a relentless rain of destruction while smoke clogged lungs and made eyes tear. It was all in a day's work, really.
"Yep. The tank's dead. Electrical is completely shorted out. We're not going anywhere in this thing." Clint pulled himself out through the turret opening, easing himself down next to Natasha. "Anything good going on out here?"
"We killed all the bad guys. The chopper took away all the good guys. Our mission was a complete success." She wiped at a smudge of grease on his cheek. "And you're a mess."
He leaned over, dropping a kiss on her cheek. "And you're beautiful."
"I thought we weren't-" but she didn't finish her sentence as she stared at him, confusion clouding the thrill of victory in her eyes.
Now it was Clint's turn to look uncomfortable. It had been so easy to fall into their roles from the past weeks. They'd played an arms dealer and her trusty sidekick with surprising ease, both of them throwing themselves into the playacting with a joy that had made it quite believable.
They weren't those people. Not any longer. The smoke and ash had properly disintegrated Hudson and Jerry into nothingness, leaving only Natasha and Clint.
"We've done it before. Without a backstory telling us we liked it."
She shook her head. "No, we haven't."
"We should." Clint leaned back on his elbows, pretending he was admiring the gray sky instead of sneaking glances at Natasha from under lowered lids. "Don't see why we shouldn't. I like you. I like kissing you. And the other."
"The other?" She leaned over him, her smile pure devil. "You mean sex? If you can't say it out loud, I'm not going to allow it in our relationship."
His fingers left streaks of dirt behind as he smoothed them over her cheekbones. "Fine. Make fun of an old man for his deep set principles."
"Principles? Don't try to pull that with me. You just can't say it because it embarrasses you. It has nothing to do with principles."
"See? You know me so well." His hand moved to the back of her neck but he didn't pull her close, just let it sit there, warm and comforting. Her eyes slid closed and, for a moment, he couldn't tell if she liked his hand where it was or if she was trying to figure out how to get rid of it.
When her eyes opened, he thought he could see his answer, but it wasn't until her lips brushed against his that he knew exactly what it was that she had decided on.
"Sex," he whispered, pulling her back down to him when she tried to lift away.
Her laughter vibrated against his skin as she kissed a path over to the spot just under his ear. "I knew you could say it. How are we going to get back to civilization if the tank isn't working?"
"Who said we needed to be back in civilization?"
"Right here?"
He moved his other hand to her hip, pulling her toward his body. "I'm the one whose got a string of rivets pressing into his back. What do you have to complain about?"
"Well, for one," she hesitated with just the barest hint of a smile, "I could use another kiss."
"Still aren't completely sold?"
"No. I just really like kissing you."
His hands moved to either side of her face, his thumbs caressing the soft skin stretched over her cheekbones. "That's really something you should have told a guy."
Her lips against his were the only retort she offered. It was, in fact, the perfect retort because there was nothing he could do, nor anything he wanted to do, to counter it. All he could do was enjoy the moment and her lips against his.
These are courtesy of the Kissing Post at
be_compromised.Title: Practice Makes Perfect
Fandom: Avengers movie!verse
Characters: Clint/Natasha
Word Count: less than a comment's worth since this is comment fic
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:
quennessa requested a Sneak Attack kissSummary: Moving into Stark Tower is fine as long as he gets to keep what's really important.
Stark Tower was a revelation to Clint. For a person who always considered SHIELD headquarters to be the epitome of comfort (because doors that closed and LOCKED were something of an anathema where he came from), the tower was a revelation. Comfort and fashion co-existed in a way that he only thought possible on TV.
"And this is your room."
Clint looked over at Pepper, his face as blank as he could make it. "My room?"
"If you'd like it to be." Pepper consulted the Stark Tablet as if it held the answers to the situation. "Of course, you're welcome to change anything if you'd like. Please consult JARVIS if you'd like to take out a wall but everything else is completely up to you."
She continued to talk, expanding on something or other that he quit listening to after he realized it was just conversation filler and had nothing to do with him, but finally came up with a good excuse to leave him alone in the room while she continued on with her much more pressing duties.
The quiet made the room feel more ominous, as if he should have left, as well. There was nothing very comforting here. The chairs weren't chairs so much as metal slats covered in fabric that might rip if he tried to get too comfortable. The bed didn't look any better. He was scared to check out the bathroom in case that proved to be completely unusable.
"This your room?"
He took a deep breath as he turned to face the door. It no longer surprised him that Natasha had the ability to sneak up on him but he normally tried to keep from reacting. Now he didn't think he had it in him to lie to anyone else.
"Yep. This is all mine." When she uncrossed her arms and walked into the room, he struggled not to push past her out into the hallway where he would be able to somehow find the right elevator to take him down to the main doors and freedom. "And how is yours?"
"I hate it."
It took a moment for Clint to realize what she'd said. "You... hate it?"
"It's blue. I hate blue. Yours is blue, too. You hate blue. And these aren't chairs. They're instruments of torture. On second thought, keep these. I think we can make use of them but get rid of the bed."
"Because it's blue?"
She smirked at him. "No, because it looks like it would fall apart with one decent workout."
"Workout?"
This time she gave him a withering frown. "Workout. On a bed. Has it been that long, Clint, that you've forgotten what a bed should really be used for?"
"Not completely my fault. Work got in the way. As did a continent, a guy with a glowing staff, and a swarm of robot aliens."
Natasha didn't appear to be paying any attention to his excuses. Instead, she was pulling out the drawers of the bedside table. "Hey, did you see this?"
"See what?"
When he was within arm's length, she lashed out with a leg, wrapping it around both of his so that he had two choices: either fall against the window or onto the bed. Because he was smart, he took the bed.
One good bounce was enough to confirm that she was wrong. The bed would stand up to a decent workout. Unfortunately, it would be the most uncomfortable workout he could imagine. She held him in place with a hand on his chest as she bent down and covered his mouth with hers. It was everything he hadn't had in over a month, slow and thorough and completely Natasha.
"What was that?" he asked as she pulled back.
"A kiss. Have you forgotten what those are, too? Seriously, Barton, do you have to have constant reminders about these things?"
"Yes." He took hold of her hand and pulled so that she had no choice but to fall back on him. "How about you stay here and catch me back up on how it works?"
"Here?" When she looked up at the blue room, he followed her gaze. Instead of seeing somewhere he could never imagine living, he started to see possibilities. A new color on the walls and completely different furniture, of course, but it didn't seem nearly as horrible as it had.
"Yeah. Here." He reached up to touch her cheek. "You've got something. Right there."
Instead of reacting, she smiled. "What is it?"
"My lips."
"You're learning," she whispered as he kissed his way from her cheek to her mouth. He was going to need a lot more practice to make up for all that time he'd wasted.
And the second one...
Title: Realiziation (on a tank)
Fandom: Avengers movie!verse
Characters: Clint/Natasha
Word Count: another comemnt fic
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:
sunny_serentiy asked for possible sexing on a tank and, by golly, I wanted to make that happen.Summary: For the moment, they're alone in the middle of a dead battlefield. What a perfect opportunity for some kissing.
The world was on fire. Ash came down in a relentless rain of destruction while smoke clogged lungs and made eyes tear. It was all in a day's work, really.
"Yep. The tank's dead. Electrical is completely shorted out. We're not going anywhere in this thing." Clint pulled himself out through the turret opening, easing himself down next to Natasha. "Anything good going on out here?"
"We killed all the bad guys. The chopper took away all the good guys. Our mission was a complete success." She wiped at a smudge of grease on his cheek. "And you're a mess."
He leaned over, dropping a kiss on her cheek. "And you're beautiful."
"I thought we weren't-" but she didn't finish her sentence as she stared at him, confusion clouding the thrill of victory in her eyes.
Now it was Clint's turn to look uncomfortable. It had been so easy to fall into their roles from the past weeks. They'd played an arms dealer and her trusty sidekick with surprising ease, both of them throwing themselves into the playacting with a joy that had made it quite believable.
They weren't those people. Not any longer. The smoke and ash had properly disintegrated Hudson and Jerry into nothingness, leaving only Natasha and Clint.
"We've done it before. Without a backstory telling us we liked it."
She shook her head. "No, we haven't."
"We should." Clint leaned back on his elbows, pretending he was admiring the gray sky instead of sneaking glances at Natasha from under lowered lids. "Don't see why we shouldn't. I like you. I like kissing you. And the other."
"The other?" She leaned over him, her smile pure devil. "You mean sex? If you can't say it out loud, I'm not going to allow it in our relationship."
His fingers left streaks of dirt behind as he smoothed them over her cheekbones. "Fine. Make fun of an old man for his deep set principles."
"Principles? Don't try to pull that with me. You just can't say it because it embarrasses you. It has nothing to do with principles."
"See? You know me so well." His hand moved to the back of her neck but he didn't pull her close, just let it sit there, warm and comforting. Her eyes slid closed and, for a moment, he couldn't tell if she liked his hand where it was or if she was trying to figure out how to get rid of it.
When her eyes opened, he thought he could see his answer, but it wasn't until her lips brushed against his that he knew exactly what it was that she had decided on.
"Sex," he whispered, pulling her back down to him when she tried to lift away.
Her laughter vibrated against his skin as she kissed a path over to the spot just under his ear. "I knew you could say it. How are we going to get back to civilization if the tank isn't working?"
"Who said we needed to be back in civilization?"
"Right here?"
He moved his other hand to her hip, pulling her toward his body. "I'm the one whose got a string of rivets pressing into his back. What do you have to complain about?"
"Well, for one," she hesitated with just the barest hint of a smile, "I could use another kiss."
"Still aren't completely sold?"
"No. I just really like kissing you."
His hands moved to either side of her face, his thumbs caressing the soft skin stretched over her cheekbones. "That's really something you should have told a guy."
Her lips against his were the only retort she offered. It was, in fact, the perfect retort because there was nothing he could do, nor anything he wanted to do, to counter it. All he could do was enjoy the moment and her lips against his.
