ZThemes
[Whispers in ear] I want to do the dirtiest things to you. {pass on to the first 10 blogs on your dash and see their reaction}
agentbartonofshield

starkattack321:

agentbartonofshield:

 

starkattack321:

Tony laughed and turned to face Clint. “Oh really? And what if I said I wanted you to tell me what they were?” he teased

Tony laughed and shoved his back. “If you don’t tell me, it means we don’t do them. A terrible loss, I think, but you’ll have missed out.” He would too, but he wasn’t going to say that.

"Pfft." Clint had half a mind to tackle the man and prove a point, but he restrained the urge. His growing interest in his teammate had become somewhat of a distraction over the past few days, but the archer was determined to appear entirely in control of his thoughts. "Fine by me. You’ll have a tough time finding an ass as fit as Hawkeye’s, Iron guy."

"I don’t know, our dear captain’s is pretty fit." Tony smirked and winked at him. "I could always test the ‘straight and wholesome’ theory." Steve was attractive, but Clint had the attitude that attracted Tony.

"Breaking the all American boy scout would be as fun as it would be difficult. Good luck with that." He smirked, giving Tony a wink. 

Tony laughed and shrugged. “It would certainly be worth it. Wouldn’t be so hard though, since no one can resist me!”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Kay, Tone. You sully Cap, and I’ll be at the range.”

Azalea had been looking for Clint for three months. She was assigned to the case because she was very easy for people to underestimate and it would make things easier when she finally did find him. But she hadn't expected to find him like this. Her jaw nearly dropped and her grip on the bloody knife in her hand tightened as she rushed forward to cut him loose from the ropes. "Clint? Clint, it's Azalea, c'mon I'm getting you out."
azalea-in-time

azalea-in-time:

agentbartonofshield:

azalea-in-time:

agentbartonofshield:

azalea-in-time:

agentbartonofshield:

azalea-in-time:

agentbartonofshield:

Clint groaned in response, stirring slightly in an attempt to recognize his visitor. Dries blood stained his face and the agent had lost over twenty pounds being bound to a chair with little to no food for months. His limbs were sore and he had severe bruises and gashes all up his malnourished body, making it incredibly difficult to properly stand up. “A…?” He croaked out, squinting at his savior.

"Hey…hey, you’re okay now. We’re gonna get you help." She tried to reassure him, wrapping her arm under his and helping to pull him up. "I just need you to help me get you to the jet, can you do that?" She asked worriedly. "Can you walk at all?"

Clint nodded and murmured a positive response, slowly getting to his feet though leaning on Azalea quite a bit. “Jet?” He asked, throat scratchy and voice hoarse. In a better light Azalea would see one of Clint’s eyes was swollen shut, obviously having suffered thorough facial wounds. He steadily used his friend as a crutch till they got to the roof of the building where the transport was waiting for them.

"I called in backup as soon as I knew you were in here." She explained gently, taking as much of his weight as she could as she helped him onto the roof. A medic ran off of the jet and helped her get him inside.

The SHIELD medic helped Clint lay down and signaled for them to take off with Azalea onboard. He worked quickly to take into account Clint’s vitals, asking a few gentle questions to keep the former captive in focus

"Put me out, doc…" Clint groaned, hands weakly grabbing at the man’s bullet-proof vest. The medic looked up in concern to Azalea, shaking his head. The Hawk’s blood pressure was too low to afford anything that would make him unconscious. "A, please… Knock me out, put me out…” The archer continued, unable to understand in his delusional state, 

Azalea’s chest tightened at his pleas and she sucked in a sharp breath. “I can’t…” She murmured tearfully. Seeing him like this hurt her. She was overjoyed that they found him alive, but she hadn’t expected to find him like this. There wasn’t any part of him that wasn’t injured and bloody. “You gotta stay awake Clint…you have to, okay? Talk to me.” She practically begged him, brushing his hair away from his eyes and stroking his cheek gently. He could barely see out of the one eye that was open but she needed him to try to look at her and speak to her. “What’s your full name?” She asked.

Clint’s good eye focused on Azalea, weak hand weakly touching the one on his cheek appreciatively. The much needed affection at least gave him something to hold on for, after it being completely absent from his life for months. “Clinton Barton… Francis Barton…” He trailed off pathetically, suddenly going into a violent coughing fit. The attending medic looked slightly confused, but nonetheless calm and responded attentively. He looked up to Azalea and grimaced, putting an oxygen mask over Clint. “Do you know what they were doing down there? To the patient?” He asked, unsure how else to phrase such a morbid question.

"Okay, good, that’s good. Clint, you gotta keep talking to me okay?" She jumped a bit when he suddenly started coughing and she looked to the medic frantically. He got Clint an oxygen mask and Azalea looked back down at him, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She gave a small shrug at the Medic’s question. "I’m not sure. Some form of experimentation is all I know." She explained, stroking Clint’s cheek with her thumb. "You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you home, okay?"

The archer nodded weakly before the transport touched down at the nearest SHIELD base. Met with a medical staff and gurney, Clint was wheeled off where he could get the urgent care that he needed while an agent herded Azalea to some place quiet and void of the shouts of doctors and nurses.

"Agent Azalea, correct?" The man in the suit asked, setting down a file on the metal table in the stark room. "This is the extended file on Barton’s rescue mission. You were given the bare necessities, but here’s what commands knows about what happened inside.” He strolled to the other side of the table with his hands stuff in his pockets, waiting for her to read what was in the manila folder stamped “Level 7.”

agentbartonofshield

azalea-in-time:

agentbartonofshield:

azalea-in-time:

agentbartonofshield:

azalea-in-time:

agentbartonofshield:

azalea-in-time:

agentbartonofshield:

azalea-in-time:

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azalea-in-time:

Her head was down and she was sitting on the bed against the wall when Clint walked in. One of the male nurses was sitting across the room keeping an eye on her. There was no privacy here. They had cameras everywhere and when they didn’t have cameras they had someone assigned to watch her.

She didn’t say anything as he walked in and sat down in the metal chair they’d asked him to sit in. She toyed with the end of the hospital gown that she was clothed in, looking at her hands. She had acknowledged his presence when he first walked in, but now she was back to shutting everything out.

The nurse gave a clearly frustrated sigh. “She hasn’t said anything to anyone since she’s been here. Don’t expect much of a response. I didn’t think she’d have any visitors given how antisocial she is.” The comment was strange given how Azalea was usually a people person, nothing close to antisocial.

The agent looked around the room, taking in the stark walls and cold appearance of the room. He had trusted the staff to take care of her, but the person so silent and unresponsive hardly resembled his friend.

"Hey." He tried softly, sitting down and hoping to be casual. "How is everything, A?"

Her eyes flickered up to his for a moment before she dropped them again. She didn’t react very much, but she was actually very happy to see him. She just didn’t have the willpower to show it.

The nurse spoke up then. “You know, I’m not even sure if she understands what you’re saying. She could have brain damage.” He sighed, clearly grouchy. It was close to the end of his shift and almost all of the nurses hated being assigned to Azalea because it just meant sitting there. No communication, just sitting. “She doesn’t react to anything we say. I could scream fire and she wouldn’t even blink.”

Azalea didn’t do anything at first, but then she slowly looked up at Clint. Her face was nearly emotionless, but she couldn’t quite get rid of the desperation in her eyes.

Clint studied his friend’s stoic features before turning to the nurse. “I’m with SHIELD, you can leave now.” His voice clearly held resentment for the man’s less than tactful words about Azalea. The nurse’s protests were met with a sharp look, the archer immediately standing. “Look, if you’re uneducated enough to say she ‘probably has brain damage or something’, then you’re not fit to be in the room while two government agent exchange words. So get out.”

He glared until they were left alone, taking his seat calmly and speaking softly again. “A… I understand if you don’t want to talk, but… I’ve had my fair share of visits in places like these…” He watched her closely, waiting for anything that could resemble communication.

Azalea watched the exchange between Clint and her nurse and her lips curved up just slightly into a smile. She seemed relieved as soon as the nurse left and her eyes met Clint’s for a few seconds as she studied them carefully.

She listened attentively while he spoke to her and dropped her eyes when he was quiet. She gave an almost non-existent shrug, most likely too small for the cameras to pick up. She began to play with the hospital bracelet. It had grown loose on her since she’d been here, she’d lost an alarming amount of weight but she was eating just fine. The doctors finally realized it was the stress she was under. From what? They didn’t know.

Clint looked around the room, spotting a camera and then turning back to Azalea. He spoke softly, calm as ever. “Are the cameras mic’d?” He hoped not, as it would free him to freely speak with the ‘patient’ while turned from the view of the singular camera.

Azalea smiled a bit again. He was good- he’d probably be able to figure it out before she had to tell him. She didn’t reply, but she stood up and walked over to the table. She took her cup of water and drank the rest of it before putting it upside-down over a camera on the desk. It was the only one that was mic’d and it wasn’t an actual camera so they wouldn’t notice it for a few minutes.

She went back and sat down. “Three minutes.” She whispered. That’s how long they had until someone noticed and came to kick Clint out and put Azalea in solitary for breaking the rules.

The agent pieced everything together quickly, and rushed to make the most of his three minutes. “A, I have authority. I’m a government agent, they actually respect that stupid shit around here.” He looked desperately at his friend, tricolored eyes observing the starved agent before him. “What have they been doing all these months, Azalea?”

Azalea was shaking now and she refused to look at him. Her heart was pounding and she wanted him to get her out desperately. Tears began to prick at her eyes and they flicked up to meet his for a split second again. “Two minutes.” She whispered, voice breaking.

"A." Clint said firmly, giving his friend a stern look. "Tell me. Give me something.” He glanced back at the camera, annoyed at his time limit. “I have authority for once. I can bully these people out of your life. But I need you to talk.”

She’d misjudged the time. She made a mistake. They were already coming. She could hear them rushing down the hall and her eyes widened in fear. “Get me out.” She begged him in a hoarse whisper, her voice cracking. The door swung open and several nurses came in. Azalea crawled backwards on the bed and tried to make herself as small as possible as she got as far away as she could. It was too late. She couldn’t tell him anything now.

"You need to leave now, she hasn’t been taking her medicine- she’s not stable." One of the nurses said and Azalea let out a small whimper as they grabbed her and hauled her to her feet. She was going to ‘solitary’, that’s what happened when she broke the rules. She didn’t know why they called it solitary though because they never left her alone when she was in there. They were always poking and prodding and…

"I-" she began to speak and realized he mistake instantly as the nurses hand gripped her tighter and she tensed as they began to talk instantly to hide the fact that she had. "Agent Barton you need to leave now." One of the nurses insisted again.

Clint, never one to keep his emotions under wraps, shoved the first nurse out of his way. “A, I’m going to get you out of this, okay?” HE called out over the second nurse’s shoulder. He could be kept from his friend for now, but the agent was determined to do some permanent damage to the place that took Azalea captive.

Discrimination isn’t a thunderbolt, it isn’t an abrupt slap in the face. It’s the slow drumbeat of being underappreciated, feeling uncomfortable and encountering roadblocks along the path to success.

— Astrophysicist Meg Urry, quoted in "Girls Love Science. We Tell Them Not To." (via almost-a-class-act)

drconfess:

Submitted by a follower:
I bet the person I like is reading my confession and is like oh fuck that’s about me I know it.

drconfess:

Submitted by a follower:

I bet the person I like is reading my confession and is like oh fuck that’s about me I know it.

I have made a series of very bad decisions.

— Clint Barton (via incorrectmarvelquotes)

Oh, look at that. I’ve been impaled.

— Phil Coulson (via incorrectmarvelquotes)

send me a ☾ for my muse waking up to find yours in their bed in the middle of night

cccale:

liaby:

Is it ironic that I just used knots I learned in Boy Scouts to tie myself to my bed for another guy to fuck me?

oh my god^

knightwing:

Hawkeye #15

knightwing:

Hawkeye #15

"I’m in the Army. Yeah. My MOS? 92W. Yeah I’m sorta a big deal."

"I’m in the Army. Yeah. My MOS? 92W. Yeah I’m sorta a big deal."

agentbartonofshield

azalea-in-time:

agentbartonofshield:

azalea-in-time:

agentbartonofshield:

azalea-in-time:

agentbartonofshield:

azalea-in-time:

agentbartonofshield:

azalea-in-time:

Her head was down and she was sitting on the bed against the wall when Clint walked in. One of the male nurses was sitting across the room keeping an eye on her. There was no privacy here. They had cameras everywhere and when they didn’t have cameras they had someone assigned to watch her.

She didn’t say anything as he walked in and sat down in the metal chair they’d asked him to sit in. She toyed with the end of the hospital gown that she was clothed in, looking at her hands. She had acknowledged his presence when he first walked in, but now she was back to shutting everything out.

The nurse gave a clearly frustrated sigh. “She hasn’t said anything to anyone since she’s been here. Don’t expect much of a response. I didn’t think she’d have any visitors given how antisocial she is.” The comment was strange given how Azalea was usually a people person, nothing close to antisocial.

The agent looked around the room, taking in the stark walls and cold appearance of the room. He had trusted the staff to take care of her, but the person so silent and unresponsive hardly resembled his friend.

"Hey." He tried softly, sitting down and hoping to be casual. "How is everything, A?"

Her eyes flickered up to his for a moment before she dropped them again. She didn’t react very much, but she was actually very happy to see him. She just didn’t have the willpower to show it.

The nurse spoke up then. “You know, I’m not even sure if she understands what you’re saying. She could have brain damage.” He sighed, clearly grouchy. It was close to the end of his shift and almost all of the nurses hated being assigned to Azalea because it just meant sitting there. No communication, just sitting. “She doesn’t react to anything we say. I could scream fire and she wouldn’t even blink.”

Azalea didn’t do anything at first, but then she slowly looked up at Clint. Her face was nearly emotionless, but she couldn’t quite get rid of the desperation in her eyes.

Clint studied his friend’s stoic features before turning to the nurse. “I’m with SHIELD, you can leave now.” His voice clearly held resentment for the man’s less than tactful words about Azalea. The nurse’s protests were met with a sharp look, the archer immediately standing. “Look, if you’re uneducated enough to say she ‘probably has brain damage or something’, then you’re not fit to be in the room while two government agent exchange words. So get out.”

He glared until they were left alone, taking his seat calmly and speaking softly again. “A… I understand if you don’t want to talk, but… I’ve had my fair share of visits in places like these…” He watched her closely, waiting for anything that could resemble communication.

Azalea watched the exchange between Clint and her nurse and her lips curved up just slightly into a smile. She seemed relieved as soon as the nurse left and her eyes met Clint’s for a few seconds as she studied them carefully.

She listened attentively while he spoke to her and dropped her eyes when he was quiet. She gave an almost non-existent shrug, most likely too small for the cameras to pick up. She began to play with the hospital bracelet. It had grown loose on her since she’d been here, she’d lost an alarming amount of weight but she was eating just fine. The doctors finally realized it was the stress she was under. From what? They didn’t know.

Clint looked around the room, spotting a camera and then turning back to Azalea. He spoke softly, calm as ever. “Are the cameras mic’d?” He hoped not, as it would free him to freely speak with the ‘patient’ while turned from the view of the singular camera.

Azalea smiled a bit again. He was good- he’d probably be able to figure it out before she had to tell him. She didn’t reply, but she stood up and walked over to the table. She took her cup of water and drank the rest of it before putting it upside-down over a camera on the desk. It was the only one that was mic’d and it wasn’t an actual camera so they wouldn’t notice it for a few minutes.

She went back and sat down. “Three minutes.” She whispered. That’s how long they had until someone noticed and came to kick Clint out and put Azalea in solitary for breaking the rules.

The agent pieced everything together quickly, and rushed to make the most of his three minutes. “A, I have authority. I’m a government agent, they actually respect that stupid shit around here.” He looked desperately at his friend, tricolored eyes observing the starved agent before him. “What have they been doing all these months, Azalea?”

Azalea was shaking now and she refused to look at him. Her heart was pounding and she wanted him to get her out desperately. Tears began to prick at her eyes and they flicked up to meet his for a split second again. “Two minutes.” She whispered, voice breaking.

"A." Clint said firmly, giving his friend a stern look. "Tell me. Give me something.” He glanced back at the camera, annoyed at his time limit. “I have authority for once. I can bully these people out of your life. But I need you to talk.”

"I’m in the Army. Yeah. My MOS? 92W. Yeah I’m sorta a big deal."
fucking POG

"I’m in the Army. Yeah. My MOS? 92W. Yeah I’m sorta a big deal."

fucking POG