Cap/Coulson

Ok so capiscoul

Steve quits the avengers he just hates the pressure and the fighting and he’s just so tired. But he can’t exactly be trusted on his own. He fights it saying he doesn’t need a babysitter and Fury does not give a fuck, he is getting one.

Steve takes off on his motorcycle and is in the middle of nowhere at a gas station/diner when a gorgeous red car pulls up. He is so impressed with the car that he doesn’t notice it is Coulson for a minute. 

Phil comes in and sits across from him and after Steve gets over the Coulson is alive shock he insists that he is fine and he doesn’t need a babysitter. Coulson takes off his prosthetic hand and asks if Steve thinks he’s the only one who gets tired of saving the day and Steve is dead silent.

When Phil is hit in the face with a strange alien spore, he locks himself in his office and orders Peter to radio SHIELD with aspecific code. Peter complies.

Steve, on his way home from an investigation in Latveria, receives a call that Phil needs his help.

This is a paired fic. The alternate is being done by scrivenbear, and should be up some time this week.

It started in Skype.

"Let's write sex pollen," we said. "It'll be fun," we said.

Steve has a date. He asks Phil for help. What else can Phil do but go along with it?

Here’s one for the Capsicouls. White tux, black tux, and a whole lotta pastel colours. Admittedly, I was reluctant to post this for a lot of reasons- mostly the huge backlash from fans and other sources- but after showing it to some friends [who are eager to mock my life choices in jest], and seeing their genuine reactions to it… I was comforted enough to post. Bet you Phil is still wearing those Captain A briefs under that 3 piece.

"You look like you could use a drink," Phil says as Steve wipes his brow with the back of his hand. "You’ve been painting all morning."

Steve is about to protest—claiming that he has quite a bit more to get done before they open for the night—until he sees the two pints sitting on the bar and Phil’s inviting smile. 

Leave the first sentence of a fic in my askbox and I will write the next five;

lywinis

Phil stared down at his own cup of coffee, wondering if there was any easier way of having this conversation. “Humans don’t normally have soul mates,” is what he finally says carefully. “I however -“ 

"You’re not human?" Steve asks, looking incredulous, and Phil swallows thickly. 

"Not exactly," He settles on, unwilling to meet Steve’s gaze. "Its part of the reason I survived being stabbed by an Asgardian having a tempter tantrum." 

When its clear that his attempt at humor dies, Phil looks up and sees Steve looking at him, not in disgust, but in curiosity. 

Leave the first sentence of a fic in my askbox and I will write the next five;

achillespelides

Phil hummed under his breath, and continued to do the dishes, like what Steph had just said wasn’t all that big of a deal.

"You already knew, didn’t you?" She asks, and watches as Phil looses the battle not to smile. "You are an ass." 

"Actually, Tony would be the ass here. He told me about it a week ago, thinking you would have told me the moment you found out." Phil points out, looking at Steph with a fond expression. "I figured you would tell me when you are ready." 

"You’re still an ass," Steph mumbles, coming up behind the other man and looping his arms around his waist, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "But not as much of one as Tony." 

Steve Rogers is the lead developer of the MMO, Blade of the North. A recent hit, he still manages to do a lot of the work himself — including checking up on a supposed hacker. What he finds instead turns the summer into something a little more bearable.

((My character has died and is now a Reaper. They must escort a certain number of souls over to the other side before they may rest in peace themselves. Send me a ✩ and my character will react to yours being the last soul they have to take.))

Steven Grant Rogers was a pain in his ass, if he was honest with himself he always had been. For one thing the kid had been engineered, practically gift wrapped for him. Born with a death wish. And then he’d met that ‘Bucky Barnes’ who seemed hellbent on saving the stupid, skinny and sickly boy from himself, and his clutches.

He bided his time, waited for his best friend to be drafted, a few weeks time and death would have his final say. But then there has been Erskine and his damn serum, transforming that fragile bag of bones into something even Narcissus would envy. Now Steve would not only be more difficult to reach, but he robbed him too of yet another hundred souls playing hero to the 107th.

So death was patient, with a soul like Rogers’ you had to be, biding his time, lying in wait. Trouble was no soul had ever endured as long as Steve’s before. Admittedly nearly 70 years of that unnaturally long lifespan was spent watching his soul sleep, carefully encased in ice, but nearly a century? That was plenty enough time to become attached, especially for a lonely soldier like death…

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Phil Coulson/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Slow Dancing, Dancing, Fluff, Capsicoul - Freeform Summary:

LiveJournal