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shanachie_quillTitle: Reasonable Possessiveness
Characters: Clint Barton/Tessa Monroe, Ryan, Ken (OCs)
Fandom: Avengers
Series: Avengers’ Assistants
Written For: whogeek
Prompt: possessive bastard
Summary: Clint is a possessive bastard when it comes to Tessa, but she’s slowly training him the proper way to show it.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: just for my series
Warnings: Clint is possessive, Tessa is understanding
Disclaimer: No one recognizable belongs to me and I’m soooo not making any money off this.
Author's Note: So whogeek and I were having a discussion about possession and how boyfriends treat their girlfriends. And somehow that turned into Clint being possessive of Tessa. And that his possessiveness was reasonable. This was…sorta that. It didn’t turn out exactly like I planned.
Clint looked up after the third time Tessa made a noise at her computer. “If the report is that annoying, I vote for not writing it,” he commented.
“Because you would enjoy me not explaining your share of the massive property damage,” she replied. “It’s fine. You can do it.”
Setting aside the bow he’d been fiddling with, Clint moved across the room and dropped onto the couch beside her, smirking as Tessa automatically curled into his body. “But it sounds so much better when you explain it,” he pointed out. “And Coulson doesn’t send it back for revisions.”
Tessa snorted. “That’s because I don’t write things like ‘I had a shot. I took it. The target died.’ And consider that the entire report. But that’s not what’s aggravating me.”
“What’s wrong then?” he asked. Tilting her head to the side so he had access to her neck, Clint pressed his mouth to her skin. “Tell me, baby.”
Tessa cracked up, clutching at the tablet so she didn’t drop it on the floor. “What have we discussed about you and pet names?” she asked when she caught her breath again. “It’s nothing you need to worry about. Just a message from one of my old teammates.”
“That’s good,” Clint commented. He looked at her expression. “That’s not good?”
“It’s only the three of us left from my old unit. And they’re gonna be in town in a few days and want me to meet them.”
“Why is that a problem?” he wanted to know.
“I’m sorry do you not recall the last time we attempted to make plans more than a few hours ahead of time?” she questioned. “Something about roaming abnormally large acid spitting spiders? And why are you not having an issue with me going to meet two guys?”
He raised an eyebrow at that. “Two guys? Oh you didn’t tell me that. Maybe I do have a problem with that.”
She twisted, punching him in the side, although she didn’t have enough leverage for it to actually hurt. “Asshole.”
“Seriously, Tessa, these are your friends.” He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Make the arrangements and hopefully the Avenger jinx won’t kick in. If it does, well, we can always handle things without you. I don’t always need a babysitter.”
Avengers’ Assistants Avengers’ Assistants Avengers’ Assistants Avengers’ Assistants
“Really. Fucking. Hate. My. Job. Sometimes!” Tessa bitched as she peeled her field suit off and deposited it into a hazmat bin.
“Look at it this way. We aren’t under quarantine. So you have time to meet your friends after med check,” Clint responded. “I promise I’ll do my report the right way.”
Tessa eyed him. “You’ll do your report? You?”
Clint reached across the space that separated them, tugging her towards him, and kissed her deeply. “I solemnly swear I will fill my report out the correct way and Coulson will not have any reason to bitch at you before I come meet you.”
“If you don’t,” she warned him. “You’re going to find some of your range time severely curtailed. Got it, mister?”
He gulped and nodded. “Right. Range time. Got it.”
“I have total faith in you, Clint,” she assured him. She hopped off the bed as her name was called by one of the medics and stalked away, confident even in her almost nakedness.
Clint grinned as he watched her leave. “That’s my girl!”
Avengers’ Assistants Avengers’ Assistants Avengers’ Assistants Avengers’ Assistants
“Mon-roe!” the voice cut across the bar and Tessa waved in response, weaving her way through the people that made up the crowd at the bar she’d suggested for their meeting.
Ken lifted her into the air when she reached them, bear-hugging her before putting her down and passing her to Ryan. “Easy, watch the ribs,” she complained as she pounded them on the back.
“You’re getting soft,” Ken complained as they settled down at the table.
“No. I got thrown into a wall earlier,” she explained. “And no, I can’t tell you how or why. Classified.”
Ryan waved the waitress over. “You on painkillers?” he asked, holding up three fingers.
“Bruised not broken,” she answered. “And if they were broken, I wouldn’t have cleared med-check.”
“So I thought your partner was coming with you,” Ryan commented as he lounged back in his chair. “From some of the comments you made, I didn’t think he’d let you out of his sight.”
Tessa studied her former teammates for a minute. Ryan was of a height with Clint, but leaner than him; with a whipcord thinness that belied how strong he actually was. His blond hair was still cut in the buzzcut she remembered and his brown eyes were as sharp as ever. Ken could probably rival Steve for size, although he was as dark as Fury, but he embodied the term gentle giant. She’d missed both of them, even if she didn’t regret the transfer to SHIELD. “He had to finish his report about today’s dust-up,” she answered.
“I thought that was your job,” Ken responded.
“Normally it is,” Tessa explained, “but every so often I make him do it so he doesn’t forget how to write them. Our boss gets mad if he can’t fill in the little bubbles.”
“Oh that’s cold,” Ryan said. “That’s really cold.”
“Hey, I seem to remember being bribed to write someone’s reports,” Tessa replied. “So don’t tell me it’s cold.”
Ken laughed, tilting his bottle towards the smaller man. “She’s got you there.”
“Hey. They pay me to blow shit up. Not tell them how or why or where or when I blew it up,” Ryan grumbled. He made a fist with one hand and then ‘exploded’ it, complete with sound effects. “If the target is neutralized, who the fuck cares how it got that way?”
Tessa snorted into her mug. “Clint wrote a report once ‘The target was crossing the street. I fired. I hit it. Target died.’ I thought our boss was going to have an aneurysm.”
“It’s a perfectly logical report,” Ryan agreed. “I gather he had to write it over?”
“More like I had to track him down and get the specifics from him and write it over,” Tessa replied. “It’s a whole lot easier for me just to write them.”
“Aaww.” Ryan tugged her towards him, grinning as she leaned up against his shoulder. “See. I was training you for your job. If you hadn’t had me, you wouldn’t know how to deal with your…” He waved a hand. “Whatever he is.”
“Her sniper,” Clint’s voice answered from above her. “Among other things. Hey, babe.”
Tessa snorted as she attempted to hold back a laugh, rolling her head to see Clint standing beside the table, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. She could read the lines of tension in his body, but wasn’t sure how much of it was having his back to the room and how much of it was her position. Normally he didn’t have an issue with her touching friends, but he didn’t actually know these two. “Hey,” she greeted him. “What have we said about pet names?”
He smirked, reaching out to touch a lock of her black hair. “That I shouldn’t?”
“And yet you continue to try.” She kicked the empty chair next to her out so he could choose to join them. “You here to stay? Or just making sure I’m not running off?”
“I’m good to stay.” He fidgeted for a minute, finally asking, “Line of sight?”
“Um, guys?” Before Tessa got any farther, Ken and Ryan were on their feet, allowing Clint his choice of the seats. The Avenger slid into place, tugging Tessa into her accustomed spot on his right and let the other two retake seats. Both of them were careful not to crowd him or block his sight lines to the rest of the bar. After a moment, Tessa could feel some of the tension ease out of his thigh where it was pressed up against hers. “Thanks,” she said as the waitress delivered four new mugs to their table.
Ken shrugged. “Not like it’s the weirdest thing we’ve put up with.”
“Yeah, there was that guy we had for like three weeks who had to…do the what you call it,” Ryan said. “The one they decided had a stutter or whatever because he repeated every word three times.”
“That wasn’t weird, that was a nervous tic,” Tessa argued. “And he was fine under fire.”
“He was still…” Ryan tried to continue.
“So they’ll keep going like this,” Ken broke in, addressing his words to Clint. “Tessa said you two are partnered. Where’d you get your training?”
“Which training?” Clint returned. His eyes flitted over to where Ryan’s hand was resting on Tessa’s shoulder, but he didn’t say anything, just shifted closer to her. Tessa rubbed a hand down his arm in response but kept up her conversation with the other man.
Ken indicated his choice of seats. “Sniper training. What’s your preferred gun?”
There was an almost manic glint in Clint’s eye as he answered, “The circus. Although I spent some time in the military; Rangers. And if I have a choice, I use a bow. Quieter and I’m a hell of a lot more accurate with it.”
“It’s hard for you to be more accurate,” Tessa commented. Her look was fondly proud as she explained, “He never misses.”
“Never misses, huh?” Ryan asked, joining the conversation himself. “That seems… I mean I know snipers with a high rate of accuracy, but you always hit what you aim at? I think you might have to prove that.”
Tessa squeezed Clint’s thigh in warning, but he wasn’t reacting the way he normally did when someone derided his abilities. Maybe because Ryan’s tone hadn’t held any of the you’re insane inflections that sometimes colored the SHIELD agents’ when they talked about Clint’s aim. Instead he had a crazy, cocky smile on his face. “What’re you thinking?” he asked.
Ryan glanced around the bar, his eyes lighting on a board at the back of the room. “I’m thinking…darts.”
Tessa’s green eyes widened. “I’m thinking that’s a bad idea,” she said as Clint’s grin widened and he replied, “You’re on.”
“Clin-ton,” Tessa warned, grabbing his arm as he started to get up.
“It’s just a friendly little game,” Clint responded. Leaning down, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips in an unusual display of public affection. “It’ll be fine.”
Tessa looked at him crossly, but let him go. “Behave,” she ordered.
“I promise,” he responded.
“Are you his partner, his girlfriend, or his mother?” Ken asked as they watched the two men walk away.
“Some days I’m not sure,” Tessa responded.
Avengers’ Assistants Avengers’ Assistants Avengers’ Assistants Avengers’ Assistants
Clint was still riding the high of proving his abilities when they got back to headquarters. He crowded Tessa against the wall after they entered their quarters, grinning at her. “Did I make a good impression?” he asked.
“You mean other than kicking Ryan’s ass in darts?” she replied.
“So I should have missed a shot or two?”
“I didn’t say that,” she told him. “But maybe not beat him quite so badly.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He pressed himself more tightly against her. “Did I do good not telling him to get his hands off you? Or telling him ‘mine’?”
She laughed at his question, running her fingers through his brown hair. “You were a very good boy. You only displayed a reasonable amount of possessiveness.”
He smirked down at her. “Does that mean I get a reward?”
Smacking him lightly on the shoulder, she wiggled out of his grasp. “Not if you’re going to be a smug bastard about it.”
“Does that mean no?” he asked as she began to strip off her clothes. “Or yes? Tessa?”
Characters: Clint Barton/Tessa Monroe, Ryan, Ken (OCs)
Fandom: Avengers
Series: Avengers’ Assistants
Written For: whogeek
Prompt: possessive bastard
Summary: Clint is a possessive bastard when it comes to Tessa, but she’s slowly training him the proper way to show it.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: just for my series
Warnings: Clint is possessive, Tessa is understanding
Disclaimer: No one recognizable belongs to me and I’m soooo not making any money off this.
Author's Note: So whogeek and I were having a discussion about possession and how boyfriends treat their girlfriends. And somehow that turned into Clint being possessive of Tessa. And that his possessiveness was reasonable. This was…sorta that. It didn’t turn out exactly like I planned.
Clint looked up after the third time Tessa made a noise at her computer. “If the report is that annoying, I vote for not writing it,” he commented.
“Because you would enjoy me not explaining your share of the massive property damage,” she replied. “It’s fine. You can do it.”
Setting aside the bow he’d been fiddling with, Clint moved across the room and dropped onto the couch beside her, smirking as Tessa automatically curled into his body. “But it sounds so much better when you explain it,” he pointed out. “And Coulson doesn’t send it back for revisions.”
Tessa snorted. “That’s because I don’t write things like ‘I had a shot. I took it. The target died.’ And consider that the entire report. But that’s not what’s aggravating me.”
“What’s wrong then?” he asked. Tilting her head to the side so he had access to her neck, Clint pressed his mouth to her skin. “Tell me, baby.”
Tessa cracked up, clutching at the tablet so she didn’t drop it on the floor. “What have we discussed about you and pet names?” she asked when she caught her breath again. “It’s nothing you need to worry about. Just a message from one of my old teammates.”
“That’s good,” Clint commented. He looked at her expression. “That’s not good?”
“It’s only the three of us left from my old unit. And they’re gonna be in town in a few days and want me to meet them.”
“Why is that a problem?” he wanted to know.
“I’m sorry do you not recall the last time we attempted to make plans more than a few hours ahead of time?” she questioned. “Something about roaming abnormally large acid spitting spiders? And why are you not having an issue with me going to meet two guys?”
He raised an eyebrow at that. “Two guys? Oh you didn’t tell me that. Maybe I do have a problem with that.”
She twisted, punching him in the side, although she didn’t have enough leverage for it to actually hurt. “Asshole.”
“Seriously, Tessa, these are your friends.” He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Make the arrangements and hopefully the Avenger jinx won’t kick in. If it does, well, we can always handle things without you. I don’t always need a babysitter.”
“Really. Fucking. Hate. My. Job. Sometimes!” Tessa bitched as she peeled her field suit off and deposited it into a hazmat bin.
“Look at it this way. We aren’t under quarantine. So you have time to meet your friends after med check,” Clint responded. “I promise I’ll do my report the right way.”
Tessa eyed him. “You’ll do your report? You?”
Clint reached across the space that separated them, tugging her towards him, and kissed her deeply. “I solemnly swear I will fill my report out the correct way and Coulson will not have any reason to bitch at you before I come meet you.”
“If you don’t,” she warned him. “You’re going to find some of your range time severely curtailed. Got it, mister?”
He gulped and nodded. “Right. Range time. Got it.”
“I have total faith in you, Clint,” she assured him. She hopped off the bed as her name was called by one of the medics and stalked away, confident even in her almost nakedness.
Clint grinned as he watched her leave. “That’s my girl!”
“Mon-roe!” the voice cut across the bar and Tessa waved in response, weaving her way through the people that made up the crowd at the bar she’d suggested for their meeting.
Ken lifted her into the air when she reached them, bear-hugging her before putting her down and passing her to Ryan. “Easy, watch the ribs,” she complained as she pounded them on the back.
“You’re getting soft,” Ken complained as they settled down at the table.
“No. I got thrown into a wall earlier,” she explained. “And no, I can’t tell you how or why. Classified.”
Ryan waved the waitress over. “You on painkillers?” he asked, holding up three fingers.
“Bruised not broken,” she answered. “And if they were broken, I wouldn’t have cleared med-check.”
“So I thought your partner was coming with you,” Ryan commented as he lounged back in his chair. “From some of the comments you made, I didn’t think he’d let you out of his sight.”
Tessa studied her former teammates for a minute. Ryan was of a height with Clint, but leaner than him; with a whipcord thinness that belied how strong he actually was. His blond hair was still cut in the buzzcut she remembered and his brown eyes were as sharp as ever. Ken could probably rival Steve for size, although he was as dark as Fury, but he embodied the term gentle giant. She’d missed both of them, even if she didn’t regret the transfer to SHIELD. “He had to finish his report about today’s dust-up,” she answered.
“I thought that was your job,” Ken responded.
“Normally it is,” Tessa explained, “but every so often I make him do it so he doesn’t forget how to write them. Our boss gets mad if he can’t fill in the little bubbles.”
“Oh that’s cold,” Ryan said. “That’s really cold.”
“Hey, I seem to remember being bribed to write someone’s reports,” Tessa replied. “So don’t tell me it’s cold.”
Ken laughed, tilting his bottle towards the smaller man. “She’s got you there.”
“Hey. They pay me to blow shit up. Not tell them how or why or where or when I blew it up,” Ryan grumbled. He made a fist with one hand and then ‘exploded’ it, complete with sound effects. “If the target is neutralized, who the fuck cares how it got that way?”
Tessa snorted into her mug. “Clint wrote a report once ‘The target was crossing the street. I fired. I hit it. Target died.’ I thought our boss was going to have an aneurysm.”
“It’s a perfectly logical report,” Ryan agreed. “I gather he had to write it over?”
“More like I had to track him down and get the specifics from him and write it over,” Tessa replied. “It’s a whole lot easier for me just to write them.”
“Aaww.” Ryan tugged her towards him, grinning as she leaned up against his shoulder. “See. I was training you for your job. If you hadn’t had me, you wouldn’t know how to deal with your…” He waved a hand. “Whatever he is.”
“Her sniper,” Clint’s voice answered from above her. “Among other things. Hey, babe.”
Tessa snorted as she attempted to hold back a laugh, rolling her head to see Clint standing beside the table, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. She could read the lines of tension in his body, but wasn’t sure how much of it was having his back to the room and how much of it was her position. Normally he didn’t have an issue with her touching friends, but he didn’t actually know these two. “Hey,” she greeted him. “What have we said about pet names?”
He smirked, reaching out to touch a lock of her black hair. “That I shouldn’t?”
“And yet you continue to try.” She kicked the empty chair next to her out so he could choose to join them. “You here to stay? Or just making sure I’m not running off?”
“I’m good to stay.” He fidgeted for a minute, finally asking, “Line of sight?”
“Um, guys?” Before Tessa got any farther, Ken and Ryan were on their feet, allowing Clint his choice of the seats. The Avenger slid into place, tugging Tessa into her accustomed spot on his right and let the other two retake seats. Both of them were careful not to crowd him or block his sight lines to the rest of the bar. After a moment, Tessa could feel some of the tension ease out of his thigh where it was pressed up against hers. “Thanks,” she said as the waitress delivered four new mugs to their table.
Ken shrugged. “Not like it’s the weirdest thing we’ve put up with.”
“Yeah, there was that guy we had for like three weeks who had to…do the what you call it,” Ryan said. “The one they decided had a stutter or whatever because he repeated every word three times.”
“That wasn’t weird, that was a nervous tic,” Tessa argued. “And he was fine under fire.”
“He was still…” Ryan tried to continue.
“So they’ll keep going like this,” Ken broke in, addressing his words to Clint. “Tessa said you two are partnered. Where’d you get your training?”
“Which training?” Clint returned. His eyes flitted over to where Ryan’s hand was resting on Tessa’s shoulder, but he didn’t say anything, just shifted closer to her. Tessa rubbed a hand down his arm in response but kept up her conversation with the other man.
Ken indicated his choice of seats. “Sniper training. What’s your preferred gun?”
There was an almost manic glint in Clint’s eye as he answered, “The circus. Although I spent some time in the military; Rangers. And if I have a choice, I use a bow. Quieter and I’m a hell of a lot more accurate with it.”
“It’s hard for you to be more accurate,” Tessa commented. Her look was fondly proud as she explained, “He never misses.”
“Never misses, huh?” Ryan asked, joining the conversation himself. “That seems… I mean I know snipers with a high rate of accuracy, but you always hit what you aim at? I think you might have to prove that.”
Tessa squeezed Clint’s thigh in warning, but he wasn’t reacting the way he normally did when someone derided his abilities. Maybe because Ryan’s tone hadn’t held any of the you’re insane inflections that sometimes colored the SHIELD agents’ when they talked about Clint’s aim. Instead he had a crazy, cocky smile on his face. “What’re you thinking?” he asked.
Ryan glanced around the bar, his eyes lighting on a board at the back of the room. “I’m thinking…darts.”
Tessa’s green eyes widened. “I’m thinking that’s a bad idea,” she said as Clint’s grin widened and he replied, “You’re on.”
“Clin-ton,” Tessa warned, grabbing his arm as he started to get up.
“It’s just a friendly little game,” Clint responded. Leaning down, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips in an unusual display of public affection. “It’ll be fine.”
Tessa looked at him crossly, but let him go. “Behave,” she ordered.
“I promise,” he responded.
“Are you his partner, his girlfriend, or his mother?” Ken asked as they watched the two men walk away.
“Some days I’m not sure,” Tessa responded.
Clint was still riding the high of proving his abilities when they got back to headquarters. He crowded Tessa against the wall after they entered their quarters, grinning at her. “Did I make a good impression?” he asked.
“You mean other than kicking Ryan’s ass in darts?” she replied.
“So I should have missed a shot or two?”
“I didn’t say that,” she told him. “But maybe not beat him quite so badly.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He pressed himself more tightly against her. “Did I do good not telling him to get his hands off you? Or telling him ‘mine’?”
She laughed at his question, running her fingers through his brown hair. “You were a very good boy. You only displayed a reasonable amount of possessiveness.”
He smirked down at her. “Does that mean I get a reward?”
Smacking him lightly on the shoulder, she wiggled out of his grasp. “Not if you’re going to be a smug bastard about it.”
“Does that mean no?” he asked as she began to strip off her clothes. “Or yes? Tessa?”
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