Summary: As a senior in college, you kept your nose clean and never partied. You were at the top of your class, set to graduate with honors summa cum laude; unlike Clint Barton. In an effort to get a passing grade and graduate, he asked for your help. What could possibly go wrong? Word Count: 907 Warnings: Language, fluff, possible smut, heavy angst [I’m sorry] Author’s Note: I shouldn’t be this excited about how much angst there is. Something is wrong with me. GIF Credit [X]
Summary: As a senior in college, you kept your nose clean and never partied. You were at the top of your class, set to graduate with honors summa cum laude; unlike Clint Barton. In an effort to get a passing grade and graduate, he asked for your help. What could possibly go wrong? Word Count: 907 Warnings: Language, fluff, possible smut, heavy angst [I’m sorry] Author’s Note: I shouldn’t be this excited about how much angst there is. Something is wrong with me. GIF Credit [X]
Summary: Steve came home from the war to a wife that could not deal with the emotionally, mentally, and physically changed man before her. Dealing with it the only way he knew how, Steve buried himself in his work. After saving hundreds of lives in one heroic act, Steve finds himself put on bodyguard duty. Also known as a glorified babysitter. It wasn’t easy being the daughter of insanely rich and successful businessman, Phil Coulson. After multiple death threats, your overbearing, worries-too-much father decides you need a bodyguard. Word Count: 1,577 Warnings: Language, angst, blood, violence, explicit sexual content, possibly more to come. Author’s Note:
My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc.) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.
“God, dad,” you grumbled. “Why can’t you just listen to me? I don’t need a damn babysitter! I’m a grown ass woman. I can take care of myself.”
Phil was sitting behind his desk and shaking his head. “You seem to forget the amount of death threats that have been sent to you, Y/N.” The pinched expression on his face meant he was done arguing with you about it.
“They’re empty threats. Nothing more,” you said when there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Phil instructed as he stood, fastening the buttons on his suit jacket.
“I apologize for interrupting, sir,” the new arrival apologized gruffly, closing the door behind him.
Your father was wearing his business only smile as he stood in front of the man whose name you didn’t yet know. “No apologies necessary. You must be Steve Rogers.”
“Yes, sir,” Steve responded, shaking Phil’s hand.
Phil started chuckling. “I like you already.”
Steve gave a tight-lipped smile in return, unease rolling off of him in waves.
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