Power (NC-17, Movie-verse, Hawkeye/Black Widow/Agent Coulson)
Title: Power
Character(s)/Pairings: Phil Coulson/Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: M/M/F sex, oral
Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable here. Marvel does. I do not make any money from this.
Author Note: Wrote this for Porn Battle XII... don't know why I didn't post it here sooner! >.>
Phil knew what he looked like. It served him well after all, non threatening, pencil pushing beaurocrat types put people at ease. Never mind that he was one of the most highly decorated agents SHIELD had. Never mind that that calm, cool, in control exterior in the face of some of the weirdest shit anyone had ever seen made the men and women serving under him (well… most of them anyway) feel that things were under control even when a Norse god or Asgardian tech monster or whatever freak of the week was bearing down on them.
Fury had decided that the liaison office was the right place for him. After all, Avengers didn’t look like pencil pushers. Oh, he’d still be saving the world, but he wouldn’t be front and center at the press conferences. Not that he wanted that, of course. That sort of attention compromised far too much of his ability to go unnoticed.
Still… it might be nice to get a little nod now and then.
That was the thought he’d been stuck in when a warm hand closed on his shoulder. A hand, he knew, that could kill the average man in 3.4 seconds. And she wasn’t alone. He took in Natasha’s lean, cat-suited silhouette for a moment. She couldn’t blame him for looking if the zipper was that far down, right? “Agent Romanoff.”
“Jesus Coulson, don’t you ever smile?” Barton hopped up on the desk and smirked at him. “You know, that thing normal people do where the corners of their mouths curl up? Ever try it?”
“Not with you around, Barton.” He glared back. It wasn’t a real glare-not one he actually meant-but Clint’s singular joy in the universe was being a pain in the ass and as the Avengers liaison officer, it was usually his ass that had to deal with it. “What’s on your mind?”
“Exactly what my partner asked, Agent.” Natasha’s hands moved over his shoulders and even through the suit jacket she unerringly found every knot in his muscles. He would have relaxed into the massage if he didn’t get the distinct feeling something was really wrong with all of this. “Don’t you ever smile?”
“I…” his brow crinkled a little. Why would these two care if he was smiling? Usually it was all business-well, with Natasha anyway-but there was no mission at the moment, no reason for either of them to seek him out. “I don’t see how that’s important.”
“Aw, come on, Phil.” Barton jumped off the desk and moved toward the office door, locking it with a flourish. “Lighten up. Have some fun!”
“What my always subtle partner is getting at, Agent Coulson,” Natasha leaned in, her breath tickled his skin and he couldn’t quite suppress the quick hitch in his breath. “Is that we are more than willing to… relieve some stress for you. Help you relax.” He felt her lips press to his pulse point on his neck and he nearly gulped. He knew they didn’t call her the Black Widow for nothing and he was suddenly very aware of how good she was at her trade. The heat of her body left him for a moment and he was able to think clearly again. “But if I am not to your liking…” He spun and looked at her but her eyes were on the other man in the room.
“Hold on.” Coulson eyed them both wearily. This couldn’t be what it looked like. He wasn’t some dumb, fresh on the job kid and this absolutely could not be what it looked like. “Let’s make sure we’re all on the same page.”
“We want to fuck you. That straight forward enough for you?” Barton smirked again and to Phil’s surprise there was a fair bit of heat behind it.
Phil felt his mouth go dry and it was only due to that calm, cool, in control exterior of his that he didn’t leap up on his desk and let the two of them do whatever they felt like doing to him. “That was all I wanted to know.” He cocked an eyebrow at the archer.
“So, what shall it be, my dear agent Coulson?” Natasha turned that dazzling smile back on him.
“Well…” Phil considered the options, limited though they were in the confines of his office. “I wouldn’t want to feel I’d left anyone out of a team building exercise.”
Barton laughed and Natasha’s smile shifted to a slightly more predatory and slightly unnerving grin. She slid around him, hands moving under the suit jacket and pulling it off in one fluid motion before she was in front of him and her fingers toyed with his belt. They had this down to a dance. As Natasha freed him from belt, pants and boxers, Barton claimed his lips in a searing kiss that blocked out any tug of fabric or sudden rush of air on his skin.
They switched spots seamlessly as Natasha claimed a kiss of her own. The difference was distinct. Soft lips instead of rougher, slightly chapped ones; soft skin when he reached up and cupped her cheek instead of the bristly feel of Barton’s perpetual five o’clock shadow. The soft press of her lips instead of the demands of his. It was intoxicating and he was more and more sure that giving in to them was the best idea he’d had in ages.
But no kiss was going to distract him from the warm wet tongue that trailed over his cock a moment later. He broke the kiss to moan, then gasp in surprise as he looked down the line of his own body to see Clint suck the head of his cock into his mouth. The archer chuckled, sending vibrations through him and getting another moan. “Don’t look so surprised, Phil.” He laughed again before taking Phil’s cock back into his mouth.
“Just surprised you can do something useful with that mouth, Clint.”
Natasha let out a dark laugh. “See, Tovarich, I told you he knew your first name.” a hint of her original accent colored the words and he moaned again as the heat of Clint’s mouth pulled away again.
He heard the zipper on Natasha’s uniform a moment before she settled in his lap. “Relax, my dear agent Coulson.” She smiled and turned her back to him as she took him into her with a soft, throaty moan. “We will take care of you.”
Before he could let out any soft of response, he felt her tense and gasp. A moment later he figured out why as Clint’s tongue traced random patterns over his balls. “God, damnit Barton!” His head fell back against his desk chair and Natasha ground her hips down against him, driving him deeper into her.
He wasn’t going to last long. Between the tight heat of Natasha trembling around him and Barton’s tongue pressing and licking and finding every over sensitive spot possible. But Phil Coulson was not a man to give in easily. His arms snaked around her body until his fingers could find the spot that, only occasionally was distracting Barton from his single minded attention to Phil’s balls and he pressed on it, driving a pleasant cry from Natasha’s throat.
Clint, suddenly sure that his partner was getting all the attention she’d need, sucked on the soft skin at the base of Phil’s cock before moving lower and bringing a calloused finger up to stroke the skin just behind his sac. As Natasha cried out and tensed around him again, Phil felt his own control giving way and hammered up into her, coming hard even as Barton’s finger pressed gently on his ass.
Both Coulson and Natasha sat limp in his desk chair for a moment. She slowly pulled up and off of him, turning to press a still very passionate kiss to his lips before facing her still kneeling partner. She smiled as her eyes reached the bulge in his costume. “That looks painful darling.”
“Yeah, anyone willing to help?” He smiled for a moment before Phil found himself on his knees in front of Barton, pressing his own insistent kiss on the man and palming him through the tight leather of his uniform. He moaned and shuttered-definitely the kind of reaction Phil was looking for-before helping the two of them get him out of his clothes.
It would all forever be a blur for Phil. Everything about it. Natasha’s encouragement and directions. The thrust in Barton’s hips whenever he wanted more of whatever Phil was doing. The need in both of them for him. But the thing that was always going to be crystal clear in his memory was the look of utter abandon on Clint’s face as he came. The look of complete surrender and need.
Every smug smirk from that point on was going to bug him a whole lot less because of that look.
The three of them eventually gained their feet again and cleaned themselves up enough to be presentable. Clint leaned in, pressing a quick kiss on Coulson’s lips. “I was right. You should smile more.” Phil couldn’t stop himself from doing just that. Clint patted his cheek and smirked. “It looks good on you.”
Natasha leaned across the desk as Barton made for the door. “Welcome to the team, my dear agent Coulson.” She smiled softly.
Phil Coulson sat staring at his closed door for longer than he intended to. He knew who he was, he knew what he looked like and he knew what he was capable of. And now he knew the power he held that he hadn’t really put much consideration into. Two of Fury’s Photoshop pretty Avengers wanted to fuck him.
Now that was some impressive power.
Character(s)/Pairings: Phil Coulson/Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: M/M/F sex, oral
Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable here. Marvel does. I do not make any money from this.
Author Note: Wrote this for Porn Battle XII... don't know why I didn't post it here sooner! >.>
Phil knew what he looked like. It served him well after all, non threatening, pencil pushing beaurocrat types put people at ease. Never mind that he was one of the most highly decorated agents SHIELD had. Never mind that that calm, cool, in control exterior in the face of some of the weirdest shit anyone had ever seen made the men and women serving under him (well… most of them anyway) feel that things were under control even when a Norse god or Asgardian tech monster or whatever freak of the week was bearing down on them.
Fury had decided that the liaison office was the right place for him. After all, Avengers didn’t look like pencil pushers. Oh, he’d still be saving the world, but he wouldn’t be front and center at the press conferences. Not that he wanted that, of course. That sort of attention compromised far too much of his ability to go unnoticed.
Still… it might be nice to get a little nod now and then.
That was the thought he’d been stuck in when a warm hand closed on his shoulder. A hand, he knew, that could kill the average man in 3.4 seconds. And she wasn’t alone. He took in Natasha’s lean, cat-suited silhouette for a moment. She couldn’t blame him for looking if the zipper was that far down, right? “Agent Romanoff.”
“Jesus Coulson, don’t you ever smile?” Barton hopped up on the desk and smirked at him. “You know, that thing normal people do where the corners of their mouths curl up? Ever try it?”
“Not with you around, Barton.” He glared back. It wasn’t a real glare-not one he actually meant-but Clint’s singular joy in the universe was being a pain in the ass and as the Avengers liaison officer, it was usually his ass that had to deal with it. “What’s on your mind?”
“Exactly what my partner asked, Agent.” Natasha’s hands moved over his shoulders and even through the suit jacket she unerringly found every knot in his muscles. He would have relaxed into the massage if he didn’t get the distinct feeling something was really wrong with all of this. “Don’t you ever smile?”
“I…” his brow crinkled a little. Why would these two care if he was smiling? Usually it was all business-well, with Natasha anyway-but there was no mission at the moment, no reason for either of them to seek him out. “I don’t see how that’s important.”
“Aw, come on, Phil.” Barton jumped off the desk and moved toward the office door, locking it with a flourish. “Lighten up. Have some fun!”
“What my always subtle partner is getting at, Agent Coulson,” Natasha leaned in, her breath tickled his skin and he couldn’t quite suppress the quick hitch in his breath. “Is that we are more than willing to… relieve some stress for you. Help you relax.” He felt her lips press to his pulse point on his neck and he nearly gulped. He knew they didn’t call her the Black Widow for nothing and he was suddenly very aware of how good she was at her trade. The heat of her body left him for a moment and he was able to think clearly again. “But if I am not to your liking…” He spun and looked at her but her eyes were on the other man in the room.
“Hold on.” Coulson eyed them both wearily. This couldn’t be what it looked like. He wasn’t some dumb, fresh on the job kid and this absolutely could not be what it looked like. “Let’s make sure we’re all on the same page.”
“We want to fuck you. That straight forward enough for you?” Barton smirked again and to Phil’s surprise there was a fair bit of heat behind it.
Phil felt his mouth go dry and it was only due to that calm, cool, in control exterior of his that he didn’t leap up on his desk and let the two of them do whatever they felt like doing to him. “That was all I wanted to know.” He cocked an eyebrow at the archer.
“So, what shall it be, my dear agent Coulson?” Natasha turned that dazzling smile back on him.
“Well…” Phil considered the options, limited though they were in the confines of his office. “I wouldn’t want to feel I’d left anyone out of a team building exercise.”
Barton laughed and Natasha’s smile shifted to a slightly more predatory and slightly unnerving grin. She slid around him, hands moving under the suit jacket and pulling it off in one fluid motion before she was in front of him and her fingers toyed with his belt. They had this down to a dance. As Natasha freed him from belt, pants and boxers, Barton claimed his lips in a searing kiss that blocked out any tug of fabric or sudden rush of air on his skin.
They switched spots seamlessly as Natasha claimed a kiss of her own. The difference was distinct. Soft lips instead of rougher, slightly chapped ones; soft skin when he reached up and cupped her cheek instead of the bristly feel of Barton’s perpetual five o’clock shadow. The soft press of her lips instead of the demands of his. It was intoxicating and he was more and more sure that giving in to them was the best idea he’d had in ages.
But no kiss was going to distract him from the warm wet tongue that trailed over his cock a moment later. He broke the kiss to moan, then gasp in surprise as he looked down the line of his own body to see Clint suck the head of his cock into his mouth. The archer chuckled, sending vibrations through him and getting another moan. “Don’t look so surprised, Phil.” He laughed again before taking Phil’s cock back into his mouth.
“Just surprised you can do something useful with that mouth, Clint.”
Natasha let out a dark laugh. “See, Tovarich, I told you he knew your first name.” a hint of her original accent colored the words and he moaned again as the heat of Clint’s mouth pulled away again.
He heard the zipper on Natasha’s uniform a moment before she settled in his lap. “Relax, my dear agent Coulson.” She smiled and turned her back to him as she took him into her with a soft, throaty moan. “We will take care of you.”
Before he could let out any soft of response, he felt her tense and gasp. A moment later he figured out why as Clint’s tongue traced random patterns over his balls. “God, damnit Barton!” His head fell back against his desk chair and Natasha ground her hips down against him, driving him deeper into her.
He wasn’t going to last long. Between the tight heat of Natasha trembling around him and Barton’s tongue pressing and licking and finding every over sensitive spot possible. But Phil Coulson was not a man to give in easily. His arms snaked around her body until his fingers could find the spot that, only occasionally was distracting Barton from his single minded attention to Phil’s balls and he pressed on it, driving a pleasant cry from Natasha’s throat.
Clint, suddenly sure that his partner was getting all the attention she’d need, sucked on the soft skin at the base of Phil’s cock before moving lower and bringing a calloused finger up to stroke the skin just behind his sac. As Natasha cried out and tensed around him again, Phil felt his own control giving way and hammered up into her, coming hard even as Barton’s finger pressed gently on his ass.
Both Coulson and Natasha sat limp in his desk chair for a moment. She slowly pulled up and off of him, turning to press a still very passionate kiss to his lips before facing her still kneeling partner. She smiled as her eyes reached the bulge in his costume. “That looks painful darling.”
“Yeah, anyone willing to help?” He smiled for a moment before Phil found himself on his knees in front of Barton, pressing his own insistent kiss on the man and palming him through the tight leather of his uniform. He moaned and shuttered-definitely the kind of reaction Phil was looking for-before helping the two of them get him out of his clothes.
It would all forever be a blur for Phil. Everything about it. Natasha’s encouragement and directions. The thrust in Barton’s hips whenever he wanted more of whatever Phil was doing. The need in both of them for him. But the thing that was always going to be crystal clear in his memory was the look of utter abandon on Clint’s face as he came. The look of complete surrender and need.
Every smug smirk from that point on was going to bug him a whole lot less because of that look.
The three of them eventually gained their feet again and cleaned themselves up enough to be presentable. Clint leaned in, pressing a quick kiss on Coulson’s lips. “I was right. You should smile more.” Phil couldn’t stop himself from doing just that. Clint patted his cheek and smirked. “It looks good on you.”
Natasha leaned across the desk as Barton made for the door. “Welcome to the team, my dear agent Coulson.” She smiled softly.
Phil Coulson sat staring at his closed door for longer than he intended to. He knew who he was, he knew what he looked like and he knew what he was capable of. And now he knew the power he held that he hadn’t really put much consideration into. Two of Fury’s Photoshop pretty Avengers wanted to fuck him.
Now that was some impressive power.