This threat is for any questions, or general comments and chat :)

Posted a few prompts to kick things off :)

mission parameters

Edited 2023-06-25 05:43 pm (UTC)

beach body

"Don't go over there," Clint hisses urgently as he holds his partner back by the arm; she isn't wearing enough clothes to get a hold of easily and grabbing the Black Widow's skimpy bikini top isn't something he'd do without an invitation (one that he plans to score later on, but right now is definitely neither the time nor the place).

"Whatever that thing is floating in the surf - looks like one of Von Doom's re-imagined velociraptors? - could still be alive. Although on second thought, smells like it's been dead for a week; either way, maybe we should just go hang out by Stark's pool?"

locked door

"If we do this, it changes everything; there'll be no going back."

Nat's expression was cold and emotionless as ever, the way a spy's face should be, but her eyes gave her away, because this meant more than she would ever actually say, and Clint knew it, which is why his response was entirely non-verbal.

Pulling back, he fired the arrow into the lock, watching the mechanics scramble and the electrics spark, before the heavy door finally slid open to reveal the cryogenic chamber containing the Winter Soldier, a.k.a. Nat's ex-lover, Bucky Barnes.

Itsy bitsy spider

The shouting, shrieks, and swearing coming from the boys' locker room sounds like someone is being murdered - unprofessionally, violently, and loudly - and while Maria likes to avoid anything Avengers related as a general rule, for the sake of her sanity, someone probably ought to scout out the situation just in case. She raises an eyebrow at Natasha and then turns her back, so that she can later say with all honesty that she didn't see Natasha blatantly violating HR policy and general privacy by pushing open the door and strolling in, although she's pretty sure that Natasha has already seen all of her team mates naked at this point anyway.

"That?" she hears Natasha say a moment later, in absolute disgust, and Clint replying, "Come on, it's too damn big to even wash down the drain - HOLY SHIT that's fast - !"

Edited 2023-06-29 09:47 pm (UTC)

Hawks protect their prey

C'est la vie...

too many emojis

"Let me get this straight," Coulson says, staring at Natasha who's seated on the opposite side of the conference table and who merely stares back, "in order to ensure a stealthy entrance you delayed Captain America by sending all comms in emojis, which you" - he switches his gaze to a pleasantly smiling Clint - "refused to translate for your team mate even though you were sat right next to him on the quinjet waiting for the go-ahead?"

"No one ever learns from being given all of the answers," Clint says kindly, patting Steve on the shoulder, "and besides, Bucky managed to figure it out."

"Because I actually bother to show up to the language and culture classes and all that shit," Bucky says, folding his arms, "unlike some people who clearly have more important things to be doing," he continues as Steve looks around at everyone else with an air of betrayal.

Edited 2023-06-29 10:16 pm (UTC)

not enough emojis

"I'm uncertain why we've been called to an additional debrief when an after action report was submitted, on time and in full, as is the only requirement under SHIELD policy for successful completion of a mission of that level,," Natasha says, her voice perfectly even and her facial expression perfectly bland.

Coulson matches her as he replies, "Because while I am also quite capable of understanding emojis, emoticons, and other pictographic languages, I think you'll find said report fell short of a suitable amount to explain events to my satisfaction."

"Yeah, but we did also submit a report to IT so they can fix that electronic mission forms error with, um, pictographic languages going off the edge of the page like that," Clint points out, "which is going above and beyond, improving the functions of the agency, and all that."

Ear plugs

Camping

“Whatsit?” Clint muttered into the receiver, his voice rough with sleep — Phil Coulson was on the other end, and he didn’t need to check the caller ID to verify; Coulson was the only person who had the number for this phone.

“I need you back at base ASAP,” Coulson said calmly, a much different tone than Nick Fury would have used if he were in Coulson's place, barking at Clint to haul ass and be there yesterday—"oh, and take Romanoff with you," Coulson added, “she's not picking up her calls."

Clint looked over at Natasha's side of the bed where she was just a lump under the blankets, her own mobile flashing for attention on the nightstand, unheaded and unanswered—for once, she'd allowed herself the indulgence of earplugs.

Edited 2023-06-26 08:51 am (UTC)

Awww... :) Also, all hail dashes and semicolons! (Welcomes another master of the art...)

Needed the rain

Taut

Glitter bomb

Shipwrecked.

"This is not exactly what I had in mind," Clint grumbles as he scans the endlessly rocky, endlessly red horizon.

Natasha peeks out of the porthole at the oddly turquoise sky, dominated by a giant, ringed moon (or planet?) and at least six other, lesser celestial bodies.

"I guess next time you tell Rocket that your ideal holiday is being shipwrecked with me, far from human habitation, you'll have to specify that you mean a sandy beach and palm trees, and preferably somewhere on Earth."

Edited 2023-06-27 07:01 pm (UTC)

Post surgery

(a little AU version of Age of Ultron, where Clint isn't a husband and father)

"Hey, Plastic Man," she said with a smirk, the moment he stepped into the room, covering her anxiety with humour, in the age old tradition of their kind.

"Dr Cho says I'll be fine, by the way - no lasting damage, not a scratch on me - even my girlfriend wouldn't notice the difference," he told her with a look.

Nat approached Clint, one hand reaching out, opened her mouth to speak, but returned to neutral in a second when the rest of the team started to file in, still taking a quick and opportune moment to lean in and whisper in his ear; "We'll test that theory later."

Russians and vodka

bird bath

It had been a long mission, dirty and stressful, and Clint was more than glad it was finally over, that he was home again and able to relax in a good, hot bath, free to let all the badness just soak away.

He was as close to sleep as he dare be while laying in water, sure nothing could feel better than this, when suddenly there was tapping on the door, a click as it opened, and a soft voice saying; "Need someone to scrub your back?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he said, opening his eyes and smiling as Nat walked in, disrobing on the way - maybe be could feel better after all.

third time lucky

Humans, humans, humans... the humans will give a treat to Lucky since he has been such a good boy and didn't bound into bed with them this morning, but no, his two humans are leaving with the pointy stick and the toy that makes a loud boom that Lucky is NEVER supposed to touch and they are not offering treats even though Lucky has been a good boy and deserves treats.

Maybe the other one will give Lucky treats when she comes by to walk him later, but she doesn't either, even though Lucky was a very good boy and even helped scare away the bad man who yelled at her during their walk.

Sad, Lucky lays down with his head on his paws and waits until his two humans return, looking tired and dirty and smelling like the dead rat Lucky found last week under the dumpster - a thing which Lucky had hoped would earn him a reward but instead had earned him a bath and a stern scolding - and the two humans hug and cuddle him and finally, finally, finally give him a treat and after they have their own bath, they even let him cuddle in bed with them and Lucky thinks that yes, he is a very lucky, good boy.

(Yeah, I don't know where that came from either ;))

don't tempt me

malfunction

just keep dancing

"Nat," Clint starts as he sweeps her into another spin on the dance floor, "I really think we should -"

"No," she hisses,grasping his hand harder than necessary, "I have not spent the past month away on a long term mission, with this gala as the one highlight -" she plows right on, ignoring his indignant grumble about how he really thought he was a highlight "- as the one highlight to look forward to on my return only to have it ruined by Stark and his frat boy antics right now."

"Ok, but as much as I know you want to keep on dancing, I feel like I need to mention that the balcony is on fire - literal fire - right now, and we really should evacuate."

sunlight/moonlight

Sunday

Natasha loves Sundays - even though as SHIELD agents and Avengers, it's not like either she or Clint ever get a typical weekend off - because Sundays are when they can sleep late, make a fancy breakfast, head out to the coffee shop down that street that knows Clint by name or any number of other "normal people" things.

Or, like this morning, Natasha can admire Clint's sleeping form in the soft, pre-dawn light, and trace her fingers along hard muscle, sleek sinew, and the myriad tattoos on his arm and shoulders - or she can lightly caress the new one on his back that matches the one on her arm.

"You know I'm enjoying this impromptu and somewhat furtive massage - if you can call it that," Clint rumbles into his pillow - and Natasha can hear the smile in his voice even if she can't see it - "But if your hand goes any lower, I won't be held responsible for what happens next."