Avengers Preferences

He likes you... Dun dun DUNNNNNN!!!!!!!! (Loki - Clint)

Loki: Norse Legends

"I got you the stupid book," you told him, chucking it ito his lap as he sat cross-legged on the floor.

He picks it up and glances at the front cover before skimming through it. His eyes light on a passage and widen in shock and horror. "You mortals think I did what?"

"Told you it'd be... interesting." You watch his reaction, his face disgusted as he looks through it.

He choked. "I'm Sleipnir's mother? And I'm married to Sigyn? You mortals realise that Jormungand cannot be my son when he is in fact a giant apocalyptic snake?" He glares at you. "Get me a pen, mortal. I must correct these atrocities."

  You snort. "Not likely. I'm your guard, not your servant, and even if it wasn't, didn't you get the memo? I hate you."

You turn away because you don't want him to see the flicker of uncertainty; the fact that you're not sure now that you hate him. Which is, of course, absurd. He killed countless people, including your parents. How can you not hate him?

"Sometimes I wonder why I love you, mortal." You whip around, and his brilliant green eyes meet yours. There's a faint smile on his face, not his usual smirk or sneer, and then he looks back down on the book. "Are you kidding? The Queen of Hel?"

You turn away again, mind whirling. What just happened? He's the king of lies - in fact, the god of lies. He's obviously lying. Or joking. Right?... Right?

Tony: Thor's Birthday

"Tony Stark-" you begin in your usual manner, when he cuts you off.

"It's just a bit of fun, Y/N, and it's Thor's birthday."

"Thor's not even on Earth right now, Tony," you point out. "It's not like he's going to turn up for the party."

"Thank goodness for that," he replies, "he drinks everything."

"You drink everything."

"That's different," he explained, pouring himself a glass. "It's my alcohol."

You sigh. "Fine. But you better not repeat last time."

"What? Last time was great."

  Last time was, put nicely, verging on apocalyptic.

*

You sigh, and look at your watch. 03:27. Normally you wouldn't care that much, but there's an important meeting with the Avengers tomorrow - or should you say, today.

  Looking over the scene, your eyes light on Tony, who's talking to one of his classic girls - fake tan, fake blonde hair, fake white teeth, none-too-subtle makeup.

  Except he's actually saying the words, "Um, no thanks."

  She looks affronted. "Excuse me?"

  "There's a girl I want - not made of plastic." Tony's voice is getting a little slurred but you know he always tells the truth drunk. "So no thanks."

  Are you imagining things, or does he keep glancing at you?

[This was terrible. Apology whale: 🐳.]

Steve: Stranger Danger

You're almost offended and definitely disappointed when you see somebody else sitting on your personal bench. Technically, it's public, but this is when you always sit here. It's also where you've been unofficially meeting Captain America, or Steve, for nearly a month now.

  Nevertheless, you decide to sit there. Maybe this guy will leave by the time Steve arrives.

  Sitting down, you get out your book. You're soon absorbed in Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero when Steve turns up. He pauses, also clearly stumped by the problem of the taken seat.

  A series of awkward and confusing hand gestures later, you arrange to move over to the next bench along. As you get up to leave, the guy looks up. "Leaving so soon, sweetheart?" He clearly hasn't seen the makeshift sign language conversation.

  "Um, yes?" You take a breath in and wish you hadn't; the guy smells like a mixture of cheap perfumes, sewer and out of date yoghurt.

  "Aww, but we were just getting to know each other! Hey, before you go, can you do me a favour and lend me your phone number?" He leers at you unimpressively. "I think I lost mine."

  You're about to point out a) neither of you spoke, b) that doesn't even make sense, c) if he could afford a phone, he could afford a shower and d) STRANGER DANGER, or possibly just the last one, when Steve walks closer, casually looping an arm around you. You shiver at the unexpected movement. "Ready to go, sweetheart?"

"Sure," you say gratefully, and you both walk off. As soon as you're out of earshot, you raise an eyebrow. "Sweetheart?"

"It was all I could think of," he said quickly. "And that guy was a creep."

"Don't worry, I wasn't about to give him my number." No, you were about to scream STRANGER DANGER and run like a maniac.

He looks at you awkwardly, before turning away and you walk in silence for a bit. Then he looks up at you, nervously. "Can I have your number?"

Clint: Clueless

You're talking to a guy at the water fountain outside the training halls. He seems nice, and at least he tries to laugh at your jokes. Which is better than most people, who just look at you oddly before continuing to talk.

Then you get interrupted. Clint. He looks irritable for some reason and you wonder why. "Y/N, Fury needs to give us the brief."

Confused, you look up at the wall clock. "It's 4, Clint, the brief's at five."

"Y/N/N." He looks murderous, but then you do too. You've told him you hate that nickname, even though you know you sort of like it now. Well, you've got used to it anyway. But you can't tell him that. "We really have to go."

"Fine." You give Water Fountain Guy - you forget the name - an apology and walk off with Clint. In exactly the wrong direction. "What was that for?" you ask him angrily.

"What's this? What was that?" he says back, in a Suppressing-Anger-Quiet voice. The danger zone.

You stare at him blankly, bemused. "What?"

"Who was that guy?" he demands.

"I make conversations with people at water fountains, Clint," you say angrily. "Badgers, remember?"

"This is not the time for badgers, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N!"

You give him the look.

He gives you the look.

You both burst out laughing.

Inside joke. Long story. Don't even ask. Or even, "Don't worry, it's just a Clint and Y/N thing." All standard answers from the other agents when any new was introduced to them.

*

"But I still don't get why he even cared about WFG anyway," you said later at dinner that evening. You stopped when you saw the others trying to hold in laughter. "What?"

It was no use. They all gave up the struggle and laughed simultaneously. "Oh, Y/N," said Natasha, patting you sympathetically on the shoulder with laughter in her eyes, "you're so clueless."