Fic: Lie to Me (PG-13, Phil/Bobbi)
Title: Lie to Me
Character(s)/Pairings: Bobbi Morse/Phil Coulson
Rating: PG-13
Content Issues: language, implied sexual situations
Word Count: ~630
Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable here. Marvel does. I'm just playing with their toys.
Author Note: Written for my porn table for
avengers_tables, prompt: angry sex.
She pulled up in front of the only motel in town but the string of black cars didn’t tell her enough to pinpoint which room she needed to get into. She was constructing a story to tell whoever was at the front desk when she caught a break. “Birdie? What are you doing here?”
She spun around on her heel and her eyes narrowed. Clint would know exactly what that meant and probably was pretty happy it wasn’t directed at him personally. “Where is he?”
“Debriefs.” Clint shrugged. “I guess you heard about the thing with the… whatever it was.”
“Alien tech verses a bullhorn? Yeah. I heard.” She clenched her fists and for the millionth time since leaving LA, she tried to decide what she wanted more; to punch Phil in the face for being so damn cocky or to kiss him senseless for not getting killed. This time. She still hadn’t settled into a solid answer. It had only gotten harder to decide after talking to Sitwell and getting the whole story. “How much longer?”
“An hour maybe? Room 243. Up on the balcony.” Clint smirked. It was just enough to spike her temper again. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Birdie.” He shook his head and started toward the stairs leading up to the balcony. “I don’t even think my balls are that huge. A fuckin’ bullhorn.” He chuckled and kept climbing.
Bobbi sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose before following him up the stairs. “Shut up, Clint.”
~*~*~*~
“Jesus fucking Christ! I don’t know whether to kiss you or punch you!”
He thought she was going to go with option number two, honestly. That was his excuse for the surprised noise that left him as her lips collided with his. Frankly he hadn’t expected to see her in his hotel room when he came back from his debriefs. He shouldn’t have been surprised-Barton probably called her-but still.
“You went up against an alien suit of armor with a fucking bullhorn? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“How’d you get here so fast?”
“Phil!”
“I didn’t go up against it. I… addressed it with authority.”
“And it blew everything the fuck up.”
“There was that.”
She made quite possibly the most frustrated noise he’d ever heard leave her lips before as her hands came up, tugging through her hair. “Why? Why the fuck would you do that? And don’t give me any of that Rangers lead the way shit. I don’t want to fucking hear that again!”
“Sorry, Bobbi.” He sighed and stepped closer. If she needed to lash out, he’d earned her anger. Sure it was part of the job-she knew that better than anyone after all-but that didn’t make it easier when the person you loved stepped in front of a bullet. Literally or figuratively.
“No. You’re not.” She glared at him, pulling him in for another deep, hard kiss, biting at his bottom lip when he opened up to her. “You’re not.”
“I’m not.”
“I could fucking kill you right now I’m so mad.”
“I know.”
“That’s all you’ve got?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know!” her voice rose considerably. “I want you to say things that are complete and utter bullshit and I know that but…” She practically growled, pacing the small room. “Lie to me. Lie to me and make it up to me.”
He stepped forward again, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her softly. “It’ll never happen again.”
Her eyes narrowed; the anger still very present, if held back. “And?”
“And I’ll make it up to you.”
She didn’t say another word until she’d pushed him down on the bed and kissed him hard again. “You fucking better.”
Character(s)/Pairings: Bobbi Morse/Phil Coulson
Rating: PG-13
Content Issues: language, implied sexual situations
Word Count: ~630
Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable here. Marvel does. I'm just playing with their toys.
Author Note: Written for my porn table for
avengers_tables, prompt: angry sex.
She pulled up in front of the only motel in town but the string of black cars didn’t tell her enough to pinpoint which room she needed to get into. She was constructing a story to tell whoever was at the front desk when she caught a break. “Birdie? What are you doing here?”
She spun around on her heel and her eyes narrowed. Clint would know exactly what that meant and probably was pretty happy it wasn’t directed at him personally. “Where is he?”
“Debriefs.” Clint shrugged. “I guess you heard about the thing with the… whatever it was.”
“Alien tech verses a bullhorn? Yeah. I heard.” She clenched her fists and for the millionth time since leaving LA, she tried to decide what she wanted more; to punch Phil in the face for being so damn cocky or to kiss him senseless for not getting killed. This time. She still hadn’t settled into a solid answer. It had only gotten harder to decide after talking to Sitwell and getting the whole story. “How much longer?”
“An hour maybe? Room 243. Up on the balcony.” Clint smirked. It was just enough to spike her temper again. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Birdie.” He shook his head and started toward the stairs leading up to the balcony. “I don’t even think my balls are that huge. A fuckin’ bullhorn.” He chuckled and kept climbing.
Bobbi sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose before following him up the stairs. “Shut up, Clint.”
~*~*~*~
“Jesus fucking Christ! I don’t know whether to kiss you or punch you!”
He thought she was going to go with option number two, honestly. That was his excuse for the surprised noise that left him as her lips collided with his. Frankly he hadn’t expected to see her in his hotel room when he came back from his debriefs. He shouldn’t have been surprised-Barton probably called her-but still.
“You went up against an alien suit of armor with a fucking bullhorn? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“How’d you get here so fast?”
“Phil!”
“I didn’t go up against it. I… addressed it with authority.”
“And it blew everything the fuck up.”
“There was that.”
She made quite possibly the most frustrated noise he’d ever heard leave her lips before as her hands came up, tugging through her hair. “Why? Why the fuck would you do that? And don’t give me any of that Rangers lead the way shit. I don’t want to fucking hear that again!”
“Sorry, Bobbi.” He sighed and stepped closer. If she needed to lash out, he’d earned her anger. Sure it was part of the job-she knew that better than anyone after all-but that didn’t make it easier when the person you loved stepped in front of a bullet. Literally or figuratively.
“No. You’re not.” She glared at him, pulling him in for another deep, hard kiss, biting at his bottom lip when he opened up to her. “You’re not.”
“I’m not.”
“I could fucking kill you right now I’m so mad.”
“I know.”
“That’s all you’ve got?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know!” her voice rose considerably. “I want you to say things that are complete and utter bullshit and I know that but…” She practically growled, pacing the small room. “Lie to me. Lie to me and make it up to me.”
He stepped forward again, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her softly. “It’ll never happen again.”
Her eyes narrowed; the anger still very present, if held back. “And?”
“And I’ll make it up to you.”
She didn’t say another word until she’d pushed him down on the bed and kissed him hard again. “You fucking better.”