I... don't quite know what to say about this, except, uh. Enjoy?

[sirona_fics]

For once, I know exactly whom to blame for this. Then again, perhaps not so much 'blame' as 'thank'? Er. Well, whatever, I don't care, it made my day vastly better. Door number two it is.

This is the filthy Clint/Phil dirty talk porn that happened yesterday, posted here by popular demand, for everyone who asked, you know who you are. The rest of you? Strollll on by if you prefer. I promise you won't be missing a thing.

...In my defence, I still don't know where the fuck these two came from, and how it is that I find myself completely bowled over by all their BAMFery, and their fucking faces and ajhfksdjfghsfdkjgh THEY ARE SO SMITTEN AND IN LOVE AND NOTHING WILL EVER CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE, OKAY.

Like I said to cradle_song, THIS IS VERY VERY EXCEEDINGLY FILTHY OH MY GODDDD I ACTUALLY MADE MYSELF BLUSH WITH IT WHEN I WAS RE-READING SOME PARTS. IT'S BASICALLY CAPSLOCK VOMIT OF FILTHY DIRTY TALK. >.>;; So, be warned going in, and skip if you'd rather. Warning for semi-public sex and dirty talk -- a lot of both.


All right. If you're still here, this is how it started: foxxcub emailed me yesterday morning, with this GLORIOUS idea that a friend of hers had. Which was this:

Now I want a scene in the Avengers movie where Hawkeye has to do surveillance or something and he spends the whole time talking dirty to Coulson over the comms and Coulson just keeps this entirely straight face, doesn't even twitch, and no one around him has any idea, because really, Coulson is the mother of all badasses. Which of course is exactly why Clint does it... he wants to know what it'll take to make him break.

>>And I... kind of lost it a bit. And this happened.

OH MY GOD WE NEED THIS SO BAD. SKLJDKLSFDGSLGHFSDJHSJKLHG JESUS FUCKING CHRIST HIS FACE. AND CLINT KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT HE'S DOING TO HIM. AND SO PHIL STANDS THERE, JAW TICKING JUST THE TINIEST BIT, COMPLETELY CALM EXCEPT FOR THE PAPERCLIP IN HIS POCKET WHICH IS MANGLED BEYOND RECOGNITION, AND WHEN HE TAKES UP A PENCIL TO MAKE A NOTE IT SUDDENLY SNAPS IN HALF THROUGH NO FAULT OF ITS OWN.

JESUS.

FUCK. I HAVE CLINT WORDS IN MY HEAD NOW WHY OH MY GOD BECAUSE RIGHT HE'S JUST STANDING THERE, LINK OPEN DIRECTLY TO CLINT, BINOCULARS GLUED TO HIS EYES, CLINT STATIONED ON TOP OF SOME BUILDING HALF A CLICK AWAY, AND PHIL HUNCHED DOWN BEHIND, IDK, SOMETHING, WITH HALF A DOZEN AGENTS MILLING ABOUT AROUND HIM, AND THEN SUDDENLY CLINT SAYS, UTTERLY BLAND AND CONVERSATIONAL, "YOU KNOW, COULSON, BEEN WONDERING SOMETHING." AND PHIL ROLLS HIS EYES AND SAYS "DO I EVEN WANT TO KNOW," AND CLINT HUMS, HUMS, OKAY, NON-COMMITTAL AND OFF-HAND, SAYS, "WELL, IT'S ABOUT YOU, BUT YOU KNOW, YOU DON'T HAVE TO ANSWER, I'D LIKE TO FIND OUT FOR MYSELF," AND PHIL ROLLS HIS EYES AND FIGHTS HIS (NOT PLEASED, DAMN IT) SMILE, SAYS, WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT TO KNOW ABOUT ME, AND THEN CLINT SAYS, "BEEN WONDERING WHAT YOUR COCK WOULD TASTE LIKE, SLIDING OVER MY TONGUE, WHEN IT NUDGES AT THE BACK OF MY THROAT. I'D OPEN UP FOR YOU, COULSON, LET YOU INSIDE, UNTIL I CAN SWALLOW AROUND YOU, UNTIL ALL I CAN TASTE IS YOU."

Phil absolutely does not choke. He especially does not choke when there are agents everywhere around him, and one of them is bound to want to know what that asshole Barton is possibly saying to him, Phil has never been more sure IN HIS LIFE that he doesn't want them to know.

"Barton, what are you doing?" he asks, voice perfectly, pointedly level.

"Me? Not doing a single thing, more's the pity. Fuck, I want to, though. Some nights I can't sleep for the itch to find out what you'd feel like inside me, how you'd open me with your fingers, god, you have amazing hands, has anyone ever told you that, gorgeous thick long fingers, I'm aching to feel them inside me, filling me, preparing me for your cock. You'd fuck me, wouldn't you, Coulson? I mean, I think you'd like to, you look at me sometimes and I can see something there in your eyes, even if you never act any different. I'll take you in, Coulson, I'll take all of you, I'll be so good, and then once you're balls deep in me I'll tighten again around you, and I'll feel you so deep, I'll feel you in my throat."

Phil notes with some surprise that he's still breathing. He didn't think he could possibly have the presence of mind to do anything other than groan breathlessly with how viciously, excrutiatingly hard he'd got in the space of an instant. He clenches his jaw, feeling the vein in his temple start to pulse insistently. "All right. Let me rephrase that. Why are you doing it?"

A sigh filters in through his earpiece, more than a little wistful. "I guess I got tired of waiting for you to make a move," he says, and now his voice has dropped, turned deep and so, so suggestive that Phil's cock jerks just from the sound of it. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" he says next, and fuck, Phil wants to wrap his hands around his neck and squeeze. "Do you want me to stop?"

If there was even a shred of amusement in his voice, Phil would shut him down so hard and fast Barton would get dizzy. But there isn't. There's nothing but honest curiosity, dark, earthy want in the way Barton's tongue curls around the words, like Phil imagines it would curl around something else, too--godfuckingdamn it.

>>...And then foxxcub proved why she's one of the best enablers around, and DEMANDED the rest of it in a strongly-voiced suggesion, and then I said WHAT COULD I EVEN WRITE FROM HERE THAT WOULDN'T BE STRAIGHT-UP PORN. OR JUST PHIL STANDING AROUND TRYING NOT TO COME IN HIS PANTS WHILE CLINT KEEPS FUCKING TALKING IN HIS EAR, and she said, UM DUH, THE LATTER, and added,

ALTHOUGH RIGHT BEFORE HE COMES, COULSON JUST SHUTS OFF THE COMM LINK AND DOES NOT BREATHE UNTIL THE MISSION OR WHATEVER IS OVER, AND THEN IDK, CLINT JUST STROLLS UP TO HIM ALL WIDE-EYED AND INNOCENT-LOOKING AND NODS HIS HEAD AND SAYS, "AGENT, YOU LOOK A LITTLE PUNCHY" AND COULSON JUST SNAPS AND LOOKS AROUND TO MAKE SURE THE COAST IS CLEAR AND SHOVES CLINT INTO THE NEAREST EMPTY ROOM AND SLAMS HIM AGAINST THE WALL, AND THEN, FUCK, CLINT HAS THE BALLS TO SMIRK EVEN WHEN COULSON HAS HIS HAND AT HIS THROAT. "I SHOULD SUSPEND YOU, TELL FURY TO PUT YOU ON AN INDEFINITE HIATUS," COULSON HISSES, BUT CLINT'S SMIRK GETS WIDER AND HE DRAWLS, "YEAH, BUT YOU WON'T."

"OH, WON'T I?"

"NOPE. I'M NOT BLIND, AGENT, AND NEITHER ARE YOU."

AND THEN, LIKE, HE ARCHES INTO COULSON AND MAKES THIS FILTHY LITTLE BREATHLESS LAUGH WHEN COULSON GRITS HIS TEETH AND MOANS.

>>And then I said,

AND THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL PHIL CAN TAKE OF THIS, REALLY. THE COAST IS CLEAR, EVERYONE'S WAY TOO BUSY TO PAY THEM ANY MIND, AND CLINT HAS BEEN ASKING FOR THIS ALL FUCKING DAY, AND HE HAS VERY CLEARLY BEEN EGGING PHIL ON UNTIL JUUUUST BEFORE SNAPPING POINT, SO REALLY, PHIL HAS FUCKING EARNED THIS. SO HE KICKS AT CLINT'S LEGS UNTIL THEY FALL OPEN, SHOVES HIS EAY BETWEEN THEM, LINES UP WITH CLINT'S HIP AND PUSHES UP AND IN, AND CLINT'S LAUGH TURNS INTO A DESPERATE BITTEN-OFF MOAN, BUT PHIL HAS HEARD IT NOW, HE'S GOT CLINT'S NUMBER, EVEN IF CLINT WASN'T RIGID AGAINST HIS OWN HIP HE'D KNOW EXACTLY WHAT WAS GOING ON.

"DID IT TURN YOU ON?" HE ASKS, GROWLS INTO CLINT'S EAR. CLINT'S HIPS HITCH. "DID IT GET YOU HARD, THINKING ABOUT ME DOING THOSE THINGS TO YOU? DID YOU RUB OFF AGAINST THE ROOF AS YOU IMAGINED MY FINGERS INSIDE YOU, MY COCK PUSHING DOWN YOUR THROAT? I OUGHT TO DROP YOU TO YOUR KNEES NOW AND FUCK THAT FILTHY MOUTH OF YOURS; YOU'LL LIKE IT, WON'T YOU, IF I HOLD YOU DOWN UNTIL I'M FILLING YOUR MOUTH WITH COME?"

CLINT WHIMPERS AND THROWS HIS HEAD BACK HARD ENOUGH FOR PHIL TO HEAR THE CRACK AGAINST THE WALL, BITES HIS LIP AND MAKES THAT CUT-OFF SOUND AGAIN THAT SETS PHIL'S BLOOD ON FUCKING FIRE, EYES HEAVY AND DARK, SO DARK. THEN HE'S BRACING HIMSELF ON PHIL'S SHOULDERS, PUSHING HIMSELF OFF THE WALL UNTIL HE'S CURLING HARD, MUSCLED LEGS AROUND PHIL'S HIPS, WIDE OPEN FOR HIM, COCK SLIDING AGAINST PHIL'S IN A LONG LINE OF DESPERATION, AND PHIL WATCHES HIM AS HIS TEETH ALMOST TEAR THROUGH HIS BOTTOM LIP, AND THEN HE'S LEANING CLOSER, NO CONSCIOUS THOUGHT REQUIRED, TAKING CLINT'S MOUTH IN AN OPEN-MOUTHED, DESPERATE KISS, FUCK-ALL FINESSE AS HE THRUSTS HIS TONGUE INSIDE THE WARMTH OF HIM, TRIES NOT TO THINK WHAT IT'S GOING TO FEEL LIKE TO SLIDE IT INSIDE HIS ASS AS CLINT KEENS ABOVE HIM AND JERKS IN HIS GRIP, MASHES HIS ASS AGAINST PHIL'S MOUTH. PHIL IS COMPLETELY MINDLESS WITH NEED NOW, HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT HE'S DOING EXCEPT THAT IT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD, HANDS FULL OF CLINT'S ASS, TEETH CLOSING ON CLINT'S LIP, SWALLOWING HIS MOAN STRAIGHT OUT OF HIS MOUTH.

"PLEASE," CLINT BEGS, AND FUCK IF IT DOESN'T GIVE PHIL NOT SO MUCH OF A NUDGE AS A DAMNED SHOVE TOWARDS COMING IN HIS FUCKING PANTS LIKE... WELL, LIKE SOMEONE WHO HAS CLINT BARTON SHOVED AGAINST A WALL, MOANING FOR HIS TOUCH.

....OH GOD. *bites lip*

>>And she said,

AND HE KNOWS, LOGICALLY, THAT THEY CAN'T DO THIS HERE. THEY REALLY, REALLY CANNOT. BUT SOMEHOW THIS DOES NOT STOP HIM FROM GROWLING, "PLEASE, WHAT? YOU WERE SO EAGER TO TELL ME EVERYTHING YOU WANT ME TO DO TO YOU WHEN YOU WERE IN MY EAR BEFORE, SLOWLY KILLING ME."

CLINT MAKES A CHOKING SOUND LIKE HE'S TORN BETWEEN AROUSAL AND FRUSTRATION, AND FUCK, IT'S A NICE SOUND. "OH, I GET IT, I--FUCK--KARMA'S A BITCH, HUH?" HIS VOICE BREAKS A LITTLE WHEN PHIL CURLS HIS HAND AROUND AND CUPS HIM, HARD.

>>And then I... kind of lost it again. >.>;;

"YOU GOT THAT RIGHT," PHIL MURMURS IN HIS EAR. CLINT SHUDDERS VIOLENTLY, HIPS JERKING FORWARD, MASHING HIS ROCK-HARD COCK INTO PHIL'S HUGE, WARM PALM. "OH," HE SAYS, SOUNDING DESTROYED. PHIL, ALTHOUGH IN MOST SITUATIONS QUITE THE BASTARD, DOES NOT ACTUALLY GET OFF ON TORTURE, SO HE SHIFTS HIS HAND A LITTLE, STARTS RUBBING THE HEEL OVER THE BULGE IN CLINT'S PANTS, LICKS AROUND THE SHELL OF CLINT'S EAR, DRAWS THE SOFT LOBE INTO HIS MOUTH, SUCKS HARD BEFORE CLOSING HIS TEETH OVER IT.

"SAY IT," HE GRUNTS, BREATHING HARSH INTO CLINT'S NECK. "SAY IT, BARTON."

"FUCK," CLINT KEENS, ONE HAND FISTING INTO PHIL'S HAIR AND PULLING. THE JOLT GOES STRAIGHT TO PHIL'S COCK THAT'S BEEN TRYING TO DRILL A HOLE THROUGH CLINT'S SUIT. "FUCK, PHIL, I WANT YOU. I WANT YOU INSIDE ME, I WANT YOU TO FUCK INTO ME, FUCK ME OPEN FOR YOU; I WANT YOU TO TAKE OFF THAT STUPID FUCKING TIE OF YOURS AND TIE MY WRISTS TO THE HEADBOARD, SO I KNOW THAT EVERY TIME YOU LOOK AT IT AGAIN YOU'LL SEE ME, SPREAD OUT FOR YOU TO TAKE. I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME UNTIL I'M BEGGING YOU TO MAKE ME COME, AND THEN PUSH MY LEGS UP AND FUCK ME THROUGH IT, UNTIL THE ONLY NAME I REMEMBER IS YOURS."

PHIL IS MANY THINGS, EACH MORE DANGEROUS AND CONTROLLED THAN THE NEXT. ONE THING HE ISN'T, THOUGH, IS THE KIND OF GUY WHO CAN LISTEN TO THAT VOICE BREAKING DOWN TO A RASP, WHISPERING INTO HIS EAR WHILE HE MAULS CLINT'S NECK WITH TEETH AND LIPS AND TONGUE, LISTEN TO THOSE HALF-CHOKED MOANS AND FEEL THE WAY CLINT'S COCK JERKS IN HIS HAND, AND REMAIN IMPASSIVE.

THEN CLINT LIFTS HIS HEAD, LOOKS HIM RIGHT IN THE EYE, AND SAYS, "AND THEN I WANT TO DO IT ALL TO YOU."

"CLINT," HE GROANS, PLASTERS HIMSELF OVER CLINT'S TAUTLY MUSCLED BODY, RIDES OUT THE YANK ON HIS HAIR AS CLINT SHUDDERS AND CRIES OUT, FAINT, NO MORE THAN A KEEN, AND SHUDDERS HIMSELF AT THE WETNESS SPREADING OVER HIS PALM, SEEPING INTO HIS PANT LEGS. CLINT HEAVES GASPS OF BREATH AGAINST HIM BEFORE HE SAGS, THIGHS TREMBLING WHERE THEY STILL CIRCLE PHIL'S HIPS, ARMS LOCKED AROUND PHIL'S SHOULDERS, BLUE EYES HAZY WITH PLEASURE.

"OH, MY GOD," CLINT MOANS, HIGH ON ENDORPHINS AND RELEASE, MOUTHING AGAINST THE SIDE OF PHIL'S JAW. PHIL'S WHOLE BODY FEELS SO TENSE THAT HE WORRIES THAT HE'S GOING TO SHATTER INTO A THOUSAND PIECES, BEYOND DESPERATE, BEYOND THINKING AT ALL OF ANYTHING OTHER THAN THE PLEASURE SPARKING BEHIND HIS EYELIDS, SO INTENSE IT THREATENS TO SPILL OVER INTO PAIN. "PHIL," CLINT MURMURS INTO HIS EAR, "OH, PHIL, YEAH. THAT'S IT. NEXT TIME YOU'LL GET TO DO ALL THAT, SINK INSIDE ME FROM THE START, FEEL MY MUSCLES GIVE AROUND YOUR COCK AS I FIGHT TO TAKE YOU, YOU'LL LIKE THAT, I CAN TELL, YOU'LL LIKE ME BEGGING YOU TO FUCK ME HARDER."

"CLINT, I CAN'T--" PHIL CHOKES, FINGERS DIGGING INTO THE MUSCLES OF CLINT'S ARMS, SO TIGHT AND FIRM, DELICIOUS, PHIL WANTS TO LICK THEM ALL OVER. AND HE WILL, HE REALISES, HE WILL, BECAUSE CLINT WILL LET HIM.

"AND WHILE YOU'RE FUCKING ME, MAYBE I'LL SLIP A LITTLE SOMETHING INSIDE YOU, THIS VIBRATOR I GOT, THAT I USE WHEN THE THINKING GETS TOO MUCH, WHEN MY SKIN GETS FLUSHED JUST AT THE THOUGHT OF TOUCHING YOU, I'D TAKE IT AND SLICK IT AND I'D NUDGE IT INSIDE MY ASS, RIGHT AGAINST THAT SPOT, AND I'D JACK MYSELF AS I THINK ABOUT SUCKING YOU, PHIL, HEY, MAYBE NEXT TIME I'LL LET YOU HAVE THE REMOTE--"

PHIL, FOR LACK OF A BETTER WORD, SCREAMS. HE FEELS CLINT KISS HIM, HARD, TO MUFFLE THE NOISE, AND HE IS ABJECTLY HORRIFIED AT HIMSELF, HE NEVER LOSES CONTROL LIKE THAT, EVER, BUT THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT CLINT, HIS VOICE, HIS EYES, HIS ARMS AROUND HIM, THAT MAKES HIM FEEL SAFE, LIKE HE CAN LET GO OF HIMSELF A LITTLE, LIKE HE CAN LET CLINT TAKE CARE OF IT. IT'S DANGEROUS, SURE ENOUGH, BUT FOR THE FIRST TIME HE WONDERS WHETHER IT'S NOT MORE DANGEROUS TO AVOID IT, PUSH IT BACK, LET IT BUILD AND BUILD UNTIL IT'S TOO MUCH, TOO BIG TO KEEP BACK AT ALL.

HE'S DIMLY AWARE OF HANDS IN HIS HAIR, GENTLY SMOOTHING IT BACK, PRESSING SOOTHING FINGERS AGAINST HIS SWEAT-SLICK TEMPLES, OF KISSES BEING PRESSED INTO THE CORNERS OF HIS EYES. HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY AT ALL. HE SHOULD FEEL MORTIFIED -- BUT INSTEAD THERE'S ONLY AN ODD SENSE OF PEACE, OF CONTENTMENT. HE LOOKS UP, SEES THE LOOK IN CLINT'S EYES, WARM LIKE HE HAS NEVER SEEN BEFORE -- OR MAYBE HE HAD, IN THOSE EYES, BUT HE'D TOLD HIMSELF HE WAS MAKING IT UP, WISHFUL THINKING. WELL. A FEW THINGS TO TALK ABOUT AND NO MISTAKE.


...Soooo. Um. That was the great porn debacle of 25th Jan 2012? If you made it all the way down here, let it be known that I am impressed. And, uh, sorry?

ETA: Now with hilarious art by zoronoa. ALL TOO FEASIBLE, ME THINKS.