(âcos otherwise Iâd be lying when I told @kangofu-cb that the even ones were the safe ones this month)
It is either the best or the worst weather for assassinations. The sky is a gray ceiling, radiating light like fluorescence; no direct sun to ruin his aim, but the sort of fuzzy gray to pass as shadow that hides nothing and no one. He has chosen a roost, long-distance, and he will make his way up there in plenty of time to carry out the job, but right now he is scouting as many routes as he can to safety afterwards.
The Soldier feels strange in the civilian clothes that are best for this kind of work. Unlike himself, whoever himself could be said to be. His heavy canvas jacket is dark gray and covers a multitude of weapons; his hands are covered with black leather that creaks when he clenches them.
His head jerks up at the sound of pounding feet, this alleyway already dismissed as an escape route because of the uncertainty of the terrain; the Korean restaurant five doors in has an acquisitive relationship with cardboard boxes, and they have been here long enough to have coated the alley floor, treacherous and slick. They take the guy who pelts down the alleyway out, his feet skidding out from underneath him. He - taller than the Soldier and coltish, all limbs and baby face - crashes shoulder first into the side of a dumpster with bruising force, lands hard on his hands and knees.
Men crowd the end of the alleyway, all dressed similarly, like they're going for calisthenics. The man at the Soldier's feet is the only anomaly, dressed in torn jeans and a sleeveless shirt, a black leather cuff around his left wrist and a buckled collar around his throat. He scrabbles across the trash covered ground, ducking behind the Soldier's legs, and it is the first time in a very, very long time that he has been the lesser threat.
"You don't want to get involved, bro," a wheedling voice says, echoing down the alleyway and making the kid at his feet flinch. "Give us kid and we get out of all your hair, yes?"
The Soldier considers. The advantage of specific orders is that there is room around the edges of them whenever something unexpected occurs. He has no parameters, here.
"Don't." The low voice is the kid's, and the Soldier looks down to find him kneeling now, looking up at him, wide blue eyes and a jaw like steel. He has hearing aids curved over his ears, and when he swallows the collar around his throat moves. There is no known category in which to put the way that makes him feel.
"Why?" he asks. The men at the end of the alleyway are coming closer; he has done nothing yet that will establish him as a threat in their eyes. He will allow them another seven feet.
"You want me?" The kid says. He curls a shaking hand around the Soldier's ankle, fingers like ice sliding under cloth, brushing the skin above the Soldier's boot. "You're - you're a Dom, right? I could be good for you."
The Soldier doesn't - he swallows, hard. He can't seem to drag his eyes away from the boy at his feet who is working to appeal to instincts that he doesn't know the meaning of; that he didn't know he had. Something in his gut seems to startle awake, something hot and vicious and all-encompassing.
It is a smooth movement, even hampered as he is by a shoulder that is already turning purple, heading for black. The kid pulls the knife out of the Soldier's boot and whirls to throw it, catching in the closest man's shoulder; there is something about the precision with which he throws that suggests it is deliberate, that he did not hit him in the throat.
Soft-hearted.
The Soldier has a split-second decision to make, and he makes it. The knife at the small of his back goes to the kid.
"Do not throw this one," he says, and there's a spark of a smile that he is moving almost too fast to see. A gun from his shoulder holster that is smashed down into a man's nose, too close; he has allowed himself to get too distracted, and now they are all around him, but their soft clothes offer nothing in the way of defence, the heavy gold chains they wear easy to use against them. The kid stays out from under his feet and that is all he has time to appreciate until he is done, all of them down and groaning, at least five men earlier than he should be.
He turns to find the kid, bleeding from his lip now and with a shallow slice across his side, sinking down to his knees and smirking a little as he flips the knife to hand it back, handle first. The Soldier tucks it into the small of his back and then reaches out again, almost against his will, to thread leather-clad fingers through dark golden hair.
"Good," he says, his voice painted dark by instinct, by something he doesn't understand. "You did good."
The kid's breath stutters, and he leans into the Soldier's hand.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Hey could you do a dom/sub fic where subs at shield need to go through periodic training to ensure that they won't go give out information if they're forced down in subspace or subdrop. Other than that i'm not really picky, just would like sub!clint and dom!phil. Thank you!
((Sorry this took so long, my computer has been on the fritz))
Read it here at: This is Sexism!, or under the cut below
âThis is fucking stupidâŠâ Clint muttered as he pulled off his shirt.
Phil sighed and flipped through the paperwork he was looking at. âYouâve known about this since before you came in Clint. It makes sense, and you know it.â
âI know, I knowâŠ. Doesnât mean itâs not stupid. I mean, why donât they pull this shit on doms? They drop too!â
âes, but not nearly as often, an not nearly as hard. I understand you believe itâs discriminatory, but it really is for the best interest of everyone.â
Clint grunted and slid under their bed covers. âShut up and go to sleepâ
Phil raised an eyebrow. âWho died and made you Dom?â
âNobody. We both know who wears the pants in this relationshipâ
ââŠ.Natashaâ They both said at once, before laughing.
âGoodnight, Phil.â
âGoodnight, baby.â
*******Clint loooked at the therapist. The kid had to be fresh out of school, because holy shit did they look young.
âIâm sorry, you want me to do what now?â
âKneel.â
âYeah, no. I donât kneel for anyone.â
âYouâll kneel for the right dom.â The therapist said with a small smirk.
Yeah⊠definitely fresh out of school. Also, would Phil punish him if Clint beat the shit out of the little snot?
âSorry. Still not gonna happen.â
âWell what if a dom forces you to?â
Clint looked the kid dead in the eyes. âIâll kill them.â
The kid seemed to understand then that Clint wasnât the sub to be pushed around. Giving a slight cough, the kid flipped through their notes. âMoving onâŠ..â
Clint sighed. Different year, same old bullshit.
The psych eval was to test the sub agents on how well they handle a sub drop/sub space. This can be a very difficult and emotional time for any sub, and a time where they are more open about everything.
Ergo, if a SHIELD agent gets put into a drop or subspace, they can spill the beans on a lot of shit.
Not that any of the subs in SHIELD would ever do so, sub space or not, but the precautions were still in place.
Clint thinked it sucked and it was discriminatory, since doms were never checked over to see how well they were handling things. Which is utter bullshit, since Clint couldnât think of a single case where a sub has spilled the beans while in a drop; and could count on all fingers and toes the number of times a dom has let the ball drop do to some dom drop shit, or even a sub distracting them.
But the doms were the ones in power, so obviously they could do no wrong.
Fucking assholes.
The whole lot of them. Including this little prick, who is going to die if he asks one more fucking time -
âSTOP ASKING ME KNEEL YOU FUCKING BANANA.â
ââŠ.Okay I think thatâs the end of this session. Goodbye Agent Barton.â
*******âBanana?â
âI swear to god Phil, I was totally justified in losing my shit.â
Phil smiled and wrapped his arms around Clintâs waist. âI know, I reviewed the videos. Dr. Harenâs behavior was totally unprofessional, and they have been notified of their relief of duty. I was more remarking on the unsuality of the insult. Why banana?â
âFirst thing that popped into my mindâŠ.. Speaking of bananasâŠ.â
Phil groaned, âThat was the lamest sexual innuendo I have ever heard. I should punish you just for hat.â
Clint laughed and pressed a kiss to Philâs chin. âSo you heard and saw everything in that video?â
âMhmâŠâ
Clint hummed, âI would for you.â
âWould what?â
âKneel.â
Philâs mouth popped open slightly. âReally?â
âYes.â
âThat⊠IâŠ. UhmâŠâ
Clint laughed and turned in Philâs arms. âYou donât have to say anything.â
Phil gazed into Clintâs eyes. âBut I want to⊠Clint, you honor me with that statement. To know I have that sort of trust from you is, itâs an amazing feeling. I love you.â
âI love you too, you weirdo. Now, letâs get out of here before Fury finds out about my test.â
ok. so this is random. but could u maybe write a d/s au avengers fic where coulson is clints dom, and one time he get really mad at something, and he takes it out on clint? Outcome: clint is scared shitless of coulson. angsttttttt pls. dank u!
Sorry this took so long to post, but I finally got it out!!!!Hopefully itâs what you asked for :)
Read it here at: Rooftop Conversations or under the cut
Clint Barton was the dommiest sub you had ever had the pleasure of knowing in your life. Nothing about his persona could ever be read as someone willing to listen to anyone, let alone a dom. It always came as a shock to everyone he met when it was revealed his status.
Until they saw him with Phil.
When Clint was with Phil it was was like a switch had been pulled. Gone was the devil-may-care attitude of recklessness and disarray. In its place was a man full of deep affection and caring who practically melted at Philâs touch.
Phil was a nondescript dom. He was the kind of dom that most people thought of as âweakâ or âwimpy.â
Until they saw him in action.
Phil went from meek and mild accountant to full-fledged badass that can wipe out an entire mercenary camp in one afternoon.
It was a weird coupling, but at the same time, it was as natural as breathing.
They took care of each other, and always had each otherâs back. Nothing could separate them.
Well⊠almost nothing.
~
It was late September when The Thing âą happened. It is called The Thing âą because calling it Phil Lost His Shit and Almost Got Clint Killed was too long a name.
It all started with Phil just getting off from an incredibly exhausting mission that has lasted three weeks more than it should have, and he was just so tired. He was tired, hungry, and needed a shower but he still had so much work to do.
It was enough to make you cry.
But Phil was Phil, and he could handle it.
He just hoped no one pissed him off along the way. Phil arrived at his office to a yard long stack of paperwork that was overdue, almost 900 emails that were all priorities, and three more mission files he needed to go over, not to mention his AAR that needed to be done before he could even think about going home.
âWell, letâs get this over withâ He muttered as he dropped down into his seat.
****
Clint had been waiting for Phil to return from his mission since about 30 minutes after he had originally left. Clint and Phil often went on separate missions, but it had been a while since their separation had been this long. So understandably, Clint was a little excited to see his dom again.
Maybe a little too excited, and the four red bulls he had instead of lunch wasnât helping. It also didnât help that Phil had his phone off, so Clint had had no idea what kind of mood the older man was in. Clint knows there are a time and place for his excitement, and when it was crunch time for Phil, he knew to stay away.
Clint knew he should have checked with Philâs assistant too, to make sure his stack wasnât too big. But he was just so excited! He missed his dom, and he had been such a good boy while he was away, and he couldnât contain it any longer!
Clint knew when Phil had made it back to his office, and within ten minutes, was bursting through the air vent and dropping down onto the floor in front of Phil.
Usually, this sort of behavior was par for the course with Phil. He took it with an eye roll and accepted the kiss that was bestowed upon him with grace. But today it was just not happening. When Clint burst through the air vent and jumped towards the ground, the gush of wind that came with it tipped over Philâs work file and made everything go out of place.
âPhil!!â Clint said with glee.
Philâs eye twitched. ââŠClint.â
Clint didnât catch the tone of Philâs voice and came around to press a kiss to Philâs cheek. âIâve missed you! Did you miss me? I mean, I know you did, but validation would be nice. How was the mission? Did you get everything done? I got to train the newbies while you were away, which was a mistake on Furyâs part, but I digress⊠Phil?â
Phil was not in the mood to listen to Clint and was too much in a bad mood to tell him this kindly. âClint. Please leave.â
Clint tilted his head, âLeave? But I just got here⊠Do you have a lot of paperwork? Is that it? I can help if you want me to. My handwriting isnât the best, but Iâm very quick⊠Do you want me to sort through your mail instead? Youâre not answering me? Phil? Are you okay?â
Phil knew he should take a few breaths and accept Clintâs help, he knew that would be the right thing to do. But he just wanted to be alone and get this paperwork done without Clint talking to him a mile a minute like he always does when one of them gets home from a mission.
âClint⊠Leave.â He said again in the same quiet tone.
âAre you sure? I can leave if you want I guess, but you also look stressed out. Do you want a massage before I go? It may help you out before you go back to your paper-â
Phil had had enough. âI SAID GET OUT!!â He yelled, quickly rising to his feet and slamming his hands against the desk.
Clint, startled at the outburst, jerked backward. âRight⊠sorry⊠Iâll leave nowâ He said quietly as he quickly left the office through the door, making sure to close it softly behind him.
Phil raised a hand and rubbed his face. âShit, I donât have time to apologize⊠Iâll talk to him laterâ
Phil sat back down in his seat and tried not to give Clint another thought as he rushed through all his work.
It was several hours later when he finally got it back to a manageable level for the oncoming days that he was reminded of the earlier incident.âCrap. I was too harsh on Clint⊠I should find him an apologizeâ
~
Clint was a wreck.
Clint and Phil had a very positive relationship, based on mutual loving and respect for themselves, each other, and their boundaries.
Phil had broken one of Clintâs very fragile boundaries, and it was not one that could be repaired easily.
Clint was a victim of a lot of abuse in his life. First, it was his parents, until they died in a car crash when his father was drunk. Next, it was his brother Barney when they were in the orphanage. His mentors at the circus thought beatings were the better way to train that positive reinforcement. He had some boyfriends/doms in the past who thought the abuse was what would make him submit (they were wrong). Not to mention all of the torture sessions that were par for the course in his field.
Phil knew all of this, knew what Clint had gone through. Knew that punishing Clint would never involve loud noises or beatings (not that he was one for those anyway). Knew that he had to fill Clint up with all the love he had in him. Phil knew this, but he still yelled.
He was stressed, and he yelled, and now both of them are paying the price.
~
Clint left Philâs office and quietly closed the door behind him. His demeanor has done a 180 from when he had dropped from the air vents.
Clint usually stayed and talked to Philâs assistant for a bit, making sure they were both on the same of when Phil needed to get home. But today he kept his eyes down and briskly walked past, not even bothering with a âhelloâ.
âYouâll be okay Clint, he was just stressed out,â Clint said quietly, trying to make himself feel better as he walked through the halls. âYou did nothing wrong, he was just stressed. Phil never yells, so he was just stressed. You didnât do anything bad, you just came at the wrong time. Phil loves you, he was just stressed.âClint kept repeating this over and over to himself, trying everything he had to make himself feel better.
It worked, a little.
Clint knew in his head that Phil loved him and would never hurt him, but the scared little boy hiding inside was screaming that he was in trouble. âI just need to clear my head, thatâll make everything betterâ Clint whispered to himself as he climbed into the vents and up to the roof.
Whenever Clint was troubled, he always knew being up in the sky and open-air would make him feel better. Clint made it to the roof and sat on the edge, his feet dangling over the sides. Phil hated when he did this, it gave him bad anxiety, but Clint didnât care. Phil had made him feel like shit, so he was going to do whatever it took to feel better.
~
Phil had for some reason thought that Clint would have gone home and sulked after his outburst earlier. He was wrong.
âShit, I must have really upset himâ Phil murmured as he pulled out his phone and tried to call Clint.
Clint didnât answer.
Phil sent a text.
Clint didnât answer.
Phil tried both again, but there was still no response. Phil was beginning to panic. Clint was obsessive about answering his phone no matter the mood he was in, and he always kept it charged. Phil hoped it was just Clint ignoring him because if something bad had happened Phil would never ever be able to forgive himself.
Phil tried a couple of more times, with no success; finally caving in, and calling Natasha.
~
Clint was still sitting on the roof a couple of hours later when another figure plopped down next to him.
âPhilâs worried about you. You arenât answering your phone. Guess he forgot you donât get signal up here⊠You okay?â
Clint grimaced, âItâs so stupid.â
âYour feelings arenât stupid. Phil knows not to yell.â
Clint shrugged his shoulders, âBut I know I should have checked before going in.â
âYeah you should have, but he still shouldnât have yelled.â
Clint sighed, âWeâre both at fault here. Should I go apologize?â
âNo, I should be apologizingâ
Clint jerked at the sound of Philâs voice and quickly stood up. âPhil! Iâm sorry, I should have checked before bothering you-â
âClint, get away from the edge!â Phil said quickly, cutting Clint off as he was trying to apologize.
Clint shook his head, âPhil! Iâm trying to say Iâm sor-â Clint gasped as his balance was thrown off, making him fall backward over the edge of the roof.
âCLINT!â Both Natasha and Phil cried as he started to plunge downwards.
Luckily, Clint was able to catch himself on a nearby railing. âIâm okay!â He cried as both Natasha and Phil peered over the edge.
âHold on Clint, Iâm coming!â Phil yelled as he began to strip off his jacket.
âI mean I can pull myself up, you donât have to-â
Phil was already climbing down to Clintâs position. Clint smiled as Phil got to the railing. âI am sorry Phil, I shouldnât have bothered youâŠâ
Phil shook his head, âNo. Iâm sorry, I was stressed, but I never should have yelled. Not at my good boyâ
Clint blushed and ducked his head. Praise from his dom was the one thing that could make him drop quicker than anything.
âHey I love that yâall are communicating, but maybe do that NOT hanging 10 stories from sudden death hmm?â Natasha called down to them, followed by a rope dropping between their bodies.
âI mean sheâs not wrong,â Clint said with a smile.
âWhen is Natasha ever wrong?â Phil said as he and Clint began to climb back to the rooftop.
âThanks, Nat, that was much easier than climbing the scaffolding.â
âDonât mention it. Iâm gonna leave so you two can talk⊠Though in Philâs case it may be more of a scolding. You did almost die Little Bird.â
Clint grimaced, âIs it too late to jump back off the roof?â
Phil slipped back on his jacket and wrapped Clint in his arms. âYep. But donât worry, it will be scolding only⊠No yelling, ever again. Okay?â
Clint smiled, âPromise?â
âPinky swear.â
âI love you, Phil.â
âI love you too Clint, do you forgive me?â
âOnly if you forgive me.â
âI do, even though thereâs nothing to forgive.â
âGood⊠Can we get Chinese food and have makeup sex?â
âSure thing baby, gotta show you how much of a good boy you are.â
Summary:Â Clint is a professional masochist. Â Kind of.
Comments: Dayum son, this fic isnât explicitly Clint/Phil all the way through but it involves Clint being a live model at a BDSM shop and Coulson getting all up in his business with BDSM products. Â Then eventual romance!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Phil/Clint d/s AU where everyone is either a Dom or sub. sub!clint
I've Never done a D/S fic before, but hell, still probably better than 50 Shades of Grey.
Find it here at : More than Okay or read under the read more
âYou are my sub, and by law that means you have to listen to meâClint rolled his eyes, âOh shove it up your ass Phil â you know those rules only apply to their older generationâPhil just sighed and shook his head, flopping down onto their bed. âMy mother always wanted me to have a meak sub who would listen to everything I said and be sweet as pie, why in the hell did I have to fall in love with a mouthy little brat?âClint smirked, âBecause my ass just wonât quit?âPhil rolled his eyes, âAh yes. Thatâs what I put on all of my paperwork for Fury when we sent our paperwork for change in designation. âClint Barton has an ass that wonât quit and Phil Coulson wants to lay claim to itââClint shrugged his shoulders, âIt does have a nice ring to itâPhil groaned and threw a pillow at his loverâs head.
*****âCoulson, your boy is coming in hotâPhil stood up from his desk quickly and followed Fury out of his office and down to the waiting bay where the agents would be coming in from their latest mission. Phil had known that sending Clint on this mission with another handler would be disastrous, and god does he hate how his predictions came true. âComing in hot,â by definition for Clint and Phil, meant that Clint was in dire need to come down into subspace, and come down fast, or who knows what the hell would happen. Standing there, Phil watched in agony as Clint stomped out of the quinjet. His whole body was full of tension, and his face had murder all over it. Phil just knew that there had been a huge loss on the trip, either a team member or an innocent. Grabbing Clintâs arm as he tried to push past, Coulson held on tight while Clint tried to shake him off. âGet the fuck off me Coulson, I donât need your dominant bullshit right nowâPhil growled and shoved Clint down onto his knees, âMy name is sir, Barton; and you know it, and my âdominant bullshit,â is exactly what youâre gonna get.âClint mashed his teeth together and refused to look into Philâs eyes. Oh, that wonât do⊠This must have been really bad, usually heâs belligerentâŠ.. Grabbing Clintâs chin, Phil pushed Clintâs face up âLook at your Dom when heâs talking to you, itâs impolite otherwiseâClint looked into Philâs eyes for a moment before flicking them away and jerking his chin down. Sighing, Phil gripped Clintâs hair and tugged him to a standing position âOkay tough guy, I guess Iâm going to have to show you whose bossâClint looked up at Phil with a challenge in his eyes, almost daring Phil to beat him. Which he was, it was just the way with Clint. Phil just leered at Clint and looked over at Fury, âIâll handle Barton and he should be ready for his debrief by tonightâFury nodded and allowed Phil to lead his body through the SHIELD hallways and back to his office. Dom Agents that they passed all nodded at the display of strength from Clint, and the subs just turned their heads away, knowing that this scene should be private. Phil just ignored them all as he finally reached his office door, opening it with one hand and shoving Clint inside. Clint tripped a bit as he stumbled into the room, but immediately gained his balance and swung to face Phil, âAsshole!âPhil raised an eyebrow, âThat all you got punk?âClint growled and pounced towards Phil, which Phil knew was going to happen and was able to grab Clint midair and slam him into the ground. âYou wanna play rough, boy? Because I can do that to teach you respectâClint just struggled underneath Philâs hand, but Phil held on until Clint was still. Phil just sighed, âFinally. You want to tell me what happened, or do I need to bring you down?âClint stayed silent. âYou gonna answer me?âClint stayed silent still.Phil grabbed Clintâs hair and pulled his head up, âAnswer your Dom boyâClint just clenched his teeth, but refused to answer. Which was answer enough for Phil. Bring him down it is. Standing up, Phil pulled Clint up by his hair and pushed him over his desk. âPull down your pantsâClint just stood still. âI said pull down your pants!âClint tensed his muscles and dragged down his pants and underwear.âGood boy,â Phil cooed as he pulled his belt out of his belt-loops. Clint just grunted as Phil wound his belt around his hand and then snapped it out, making sure the belt was tight enough to bring a sweet sting to Clintâs thighs and asscheeks. âYouâre gonna count each slap, you got that boy?âClint stayed silent. Phil brought the belt hard down on Clintâs right thigh â âI said count!ââOne!â Clint cried outPhil just smiled, âGood boyâAnd so it went on. Phil brought down the belt on Clintâs thighs, asscheeks, calves, and the underside of his knees countless times. It went on so long that even Phil was beginning to feel the strain. Jesus, this must have been really bad. It was going on 45 minutes before Phil heard the first sob from Clint. Phil blew out a breath in relief and gave Clint a few more hits from the belt as Clint begin to cry freely, huge wracking sobs that took over his whole body. Phil dropped his belt and gathered Clint against his chest, shuffling them both over to the couch in the corner of his office and flopping down onto it. Phil cuddled Clint, âShhhhâŠ. Thereâs my beautiful sub, there he is. Doesnât that feel better?âClint just sobbed and clung to Philâs shirt, âSorry, Iâm sorry!âPhil just shook his head, âDonât be love. Itâs okay. Come on now, thatâs it, no need for tears babyâClint just clung weakly to Philâs shirt and cried, allowing Phil to cuddle him and soothe him, his bod finally willing to let go of the tension that had wrecked him earlier. Phil didnât know how long it was when Clint finally stopped crying, but he knew it must have been at least 30 minutes.Clint just pulled away to look up at Phil and smile, âThanksâŠ. I guess I needed that, huh?âPhil chuckled, âYou think?âClint just shook his head, âSorry⊠I⊠ A lot of shit happened that I had no control overâPhil nodded, âI know baby. Want to talk about?âClint bit his lip, âMaybe later? Iâm still a little shaky and kinda just want my Dom to cuddle me⊠Is that okay?âPhil grinned and hugged Clint to his chest, âThatâs more than okayâ
Summary: Clint deals with Phil's death, the death of his dom.
Comments: Phil and Clint had a dom/sub relationship, and Phil dies without releasing his sub - Clint still feels that he belongs to his dead master and he can't break away. Â Bittersweet story and ending, very well written. Â Approx 2.4k words.
