#hawkie’s ficlets

[hawksonfire]

tattoo parlour / mistaken identity, poly ship of your choice

Clint sits on the table, back far enough that he can swing his legs above the floor. This isn’t his first tattoo, by any means, but it’s the first one on his thigh and it’s with a new artist. He saw Bucky out there earlier, dealing with a kid who wanted some pokemon on his back, but only had time to say hi before he was bustled into this private room by an intimidating redhead who smacked Bucky’s ass on their way by.

“Take your pants off,” she says, snapping her latex gloves.

Clint almost makes a joke about how she should at least buy him dinner first, but he holds back. He doesn’t want to be that guy, after all. He shucks off his pants and lays them neatly on a chair, sitting down and stretching out his leg for her. “I shaved right before I came here,” he says when he sees her pulling out the razor.

She runs a finger up his thigh and nods, putting the razor away. “Would you prefer I speak or keep silent?” she asks him.

“I’ll be turning off my hearing aids,” Clint says. “The needle freaks me out, and if I can’t hear it, it’s better. Just grab my shoulder if you need to get my attention.”

She nods, and he turns off his aids, leaning back in the chair. He feels the stencil get applied and the tattoo start, and lets himself fall into a meditative state, closing his eyes and letting his mind drift. After a while, he feels a squeeze on his shoulder.

He opens his eyes and turns his aids back on, stretching out his shoulders. His thigh is burning faintly but he gets distracted as the artist speaks. “You sit very well,” she says, a hint of admiration in her voice. “We are done for today.”

Clint nods and looks down to see the tattoo, and his mind goes blank. “Uh,” he says, eyes wide. The tattoo is an intricate design of a spiderweb, pristine and fresh-made, until it reaches his inner thigh, where the delicate web begins to fall apart, becoming tattered and wispy.

“Do you not like it?” She asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“No, it’s gorgeous,” he assures her. “It’s just… I was supposed to get a tattoo of a quiver?”

She blinks at him. “No. You are Frank, right? Frank wanted a spiderweb.”

“Good for Frank,” Clint says, “But I’m Clint.”

Her face goes white and she shouts something in Russian out the door. After a moment, Bucky comes in. He sees Clint and his new tattoo, and he and the redhead have a rapidfire argument in Russian. “Clint,” Bucky says. “Nat’s real sorry she messed up, it’s on the house. And so is your next tattoo, if you choose to come back here. It’s my fault, really, I mixed up the numbers two and three in Russian.”

“I take it Frank is in room two,” Clint says dryly. He’s honestly not mad, not even a little. The tattoo is a gorgeous piece of work. “I appreciate the price, Buck. But I’ve got a better idea.”

“And that would be?” Nat says, lifting an eyebrow.

“Go on a date with me?” Clint asks sheepishly, suddenly uncomfortably aware he’s pantsless in front of these two. “I’ve had a crush on Bucky for forever, and something tells me you two come as a package deal.”

Bucky and Nat exchange a glance, and then Nat sidles up to Clint, smirking. “Do you sit as well as you do for tattoos doing other things?” She purrs.

Clint swallows. “I can certainly try.”

[hawksonfire]

Soulmate AU ironhawks for the ask meme pretty please!!!

“He’s self-centered, egotistical, entitled, and he’s a complete narcissist,” Natasha says, sitting down on Clint’s couch. He wouldn’t dare call it a flop, but…

“This guy really got under your skin,” Clint says, passing the ice cream. “Even I can’t do that anymore.”

Natasha sighs. “I know this job is important, but god is he ever annoying. I took his bodyguard down in the ring today, scared the shit out of them both.”

“Good for you,” Clint says, digging for the last bit of ice cream in his container. “I’ll be honest, I kinda wanna meet him, Nat. Since he got back from whatever happened to him in Afghanistan, he’s been making really big strides in green energy. Totally turned away from weapons.”

“He’s still a stuck up spoiled little rich boy,” Natasha scoffs. “Why don’t you bring me lunch tomorrow? You can interrupt my lunchtime meeting with him, and he’s so goddamn nosy he’ll have to come meet you.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Clint says cheerfully, clinking his spoon against hers. “Now pass the mint chip.”

————

Clint’s been waiting for about ten minutes, hands in his back pockets as he leans against the wall. By technical standards, he’s loitering. But he looks damn good while doing so, which means it’ll take an act of god to make him stop.

“Here he is, Mr. Stark,” Nat’s voice says from across the room. She steps out of the elevator and walks towards Clint, heels clacking on the marble floor.

“Well, hey there handsome,” Stark says, looking Clint up and down as they reach him. “Whaddaya say about letting me sit in on whatever workout got you those arms sometime, hmm?”

Clint smirks. “Only if you let me watch you do whatever workout got you that ass, hot stuff.”

Stark laughs, a surprised bark of a sound, and holds out his hand. “You know who I am.”

“Then I guess you have me at a disadvantage,” Clint purrs, reaching out to take his hand. “Just the way I like—“

He freezes, cutting himself off with a sharp inhale as warmth suffuses his entire body the second his hand touches Stark’s. He looks up to meet Stark’s eyes and sees the same shock he’s feeling reflected back at him.

“Well, that makes me real glad I came down here today,” Stark says. “Real glad indeed.”

[hawksonfire]

I got two tropes for you!

Flirting Under Fire / Interrupted Declaration of Love

<3

“Watch where you’re shooting that thing, Barton!” Bucky shouts, barely managing to dodge out of the way before an arrow slams into the giant warrior frog to his left.

“That’s not what you said last night,” Clint shouts back, laughing.

Bucky snorts and shakes his head. “You’re an idiot, Barton.” He reloads his gun and fires a couple more times, ducking behind a building.

“But you love me, right?” Clint asks, and Bucky can hear the pout in his tone.

“Yeah, I—“ Bucky’s cut off by a horrifying screech as a frog warrior snake thing leaps for the building Clint is standing on. Before Bucky can do anything, it swallows Clint whole. “NO!” Bucky screams, and he races for the building.

The frog snake thing leaps away, clearing buildings in one leap, but Bucky doesn’t stop running. He ignores the shouts in his ear from the others on the team, completely focused on rescuing Clint. After a few minutes, he manages to catch up with it along an empty street. “You spit my husband out!” He snarls, emptying everything he has into the thing.

It doesn’t seem to have an effect, and Bucky is this close to just throwing himself at it before the thing’s eyes go wide. Bucky’s serum enhanced hearing manages to pick up a faint beeping and he leaps out of the way, barely finding cover before the frog snake thing explodes into a hail of guts.

Bucky pokes his head around the wall, half-dreading what he’ll find, and then—

“I believe you were in the middle of telling me you loved me,” Clint says, covered in green slime head to toe and clutching at his ribs. Bucky storms up to him and, uncaring of the grossness he’s covered in, kisses him until they’re both breathless.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” he says, holding Clint close.

“I won’t,” Clint says, his grip on Bucky just as tight.

“That’s sweet and all,” Stark says as he lands. “But did you say husband?”

[hawksonfire]

How about Bodyguard AU and Mutual Pining with Ironhawk? :)

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Tony says for the millionth time.

“Yes you fuckin’ do,” Clint says, also for the millionth time. He crosses his arms and glares at Tony. “People want to kill you, and Pepper needs that not to happen. I happen to agree with her.”

“Well, then I need a different bodyguard!” Tony says, pouting. “Why can’t I have Happy back?”

“You asked for a new bodyguard when Happy tackled you and broke your old couch,” Clint says. Hearing that Tony wants a new bodyguard hurts a little, if he’s honest. He thought they were getting along pretty well. Maybe Tony realized that Clint has a massive, could-be-seen-from-space crush on him?

“I liked that couch,” Tony says, pouting harder. “Do I have my new one yet?”

“It arrived yesterday,” Clint says patiently, well used to how Tony seemingly switches tracks out of nowhere. “You said it was squishy enough and that you liked it.”

Tony shrugs. “Sure. I trust you. But I still want a new bodyguard.”

“Could you at least tell me why?” Clint asks. “If there’s somethin’ I’ve done, Tones, just tell me.”

Tony shakes his head, his lips a thin line on his face. “It’s just…” He trails off, then waves a hand at Clint. “All of you. Your whole cornfed, aw shucks, good guy thing.”

“You don’t like that I’m a good guy?” Clint asks. “I don’t understand.”

Tony sighs. “It’s unethical to want to fuck your bodyguard. It’s even worse when you want to keep him around afterwards for snuggles.”

Clint blinks. “I quit,” he says suddenly. “I quit so hard.”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to blink. “You… what?”

“I have a crush on you that could be seen from space,” Clint says. “If it’s unethical to want to fuck your bodyguard, then it’s definitely unethical to want to fuck your boss.”

A slow smile spreads across Tony’s face as he wraps a hand in Clint’s tie. “I accept your resignation,” he murmurs, pulling Clint down into a kiss.

[hawksonfire]

assassin au / drunk hookup

Bucky stumbles through the club, heading towards the bar. Everything’s a little blurry, but the music is thumping and the people are hotter this way, so he can’t complain. Someone bumps into him from behind, sending him careening forwards and slamming into a hard body. “Fucking watch it!” He shouts after the figure receding into the crowd.

“Such a dirty mouth for such a pretty thing,” says the body he bumped into. Steadying him with strong hands, the guy in front of Bucky looks him up and down with baby blue eyes.

Bucky returns the look, biting his lip. “It could be dirtier,” he says coyly. “Wanna see?”

“You had me at watch it,” the guy says, sliding an arm around Bucky’s waist.

Bucky grins and leads him towards the bathroom, making sure to put a little extra sway in his step. “Hope you don’t mind, handsome, but the alley’s too far away.”

The guy says something that’s lost under the swell of the crowd cheering, and the two of them stumble into a bathroom, slamming up against the wall. “What am I going to do to you?” Blue eyes asks, hands roaming Bucky’s body greedily.

“I know exactly what I’m planning on doing to you,” Bucky says with a grin. He slides a hand up Blue Eyes’ neck, pulling him down a little when—

“Ow! What the—“ His hands fly to his neck and Blue Eyes starts to slur. “Whaddid you do t’ me, you lil—“ He keels over, sliding down the wall to land on the ground, blue eyes open and unseeing.

“Ugh.” Bucky dusts himself off, making sure not to catch himself with his poison ring. “Honestly, I deserve better than a club bathroom.”

“I would wholeheartedly agree,” someone drawls from behind him. Bucky whirls around, pulling the knife he kept from the sheath on his back out. “That was a stellar kill if I’ve ever seen one,” the man says. He’s tall, muscular enough to give even Bucky a problem, and has sky blue eyes that are sparkling with amusement. Add in some tousled blond hair, and Bucky’s traitorous libido perks up its head the way it hadn’t when his victim had been talking.

“Thanks for the compliment,” Bucky says cautiously. “How ‘bout you come over here and I show you how stellar I can be?”

Blondie laughs. “I don’t think so, not with that knife pointed at me, sugar. You’re good, for getting to an open season target first.”

“You’re in the business,” Bucky says, lowering his knife a tad.

“Sure am,” Blondie says. “I’m Clint. Was comin’ in to take him out myself, but then I saw you and couldn’t resist watching the show.” He smirks, and Bucky can’t help the flicker of interest he feels at this.

“Admission price can be hefty,” Bucky purrs, sheathing his knife. “Think you’ll be able to pay up?”

Clint eyes him indolently, arousal practically drifting off him in waves. “I’m sure we can come up with something. Better than a club bathroom, anyway.”

Bucky smiles, a coy little thing. “Buy me a drink first, Clint, and we’ll see. I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.”

[hawksonfire]

curveball: platonic clintnat with hair brushing/braiding and scars

“Sit.” Natasha’s tone leaves no room for argument, so Clint does as he’s told and sits behind her. “Brush,” she says, handing him her favourite hair brush. “I need to think.”

Clint gathers her hair and starts brushing in long, smooth strokes. She still has a little blonde in her hair, but it’s mostly back to red now. As he brushes, he gets glimpses of the scars on her neck, the ones covered by her hair.

He’s never asked how she got them and she’s never told—there are some things even best friends don’t talk about, and if there’s one thing they are, it’s best friends—but he knows that if she hadn’t already done it, he’d have hunted down every person who ever gave her a scar and done bad things to them.

Minutes pass and they sit in silence. Clint normally can’t sit still for very long, even if he’s got something to occupy his hands, but he’d do anything for Nat. He’s reminded of the last time he came to her with his aids out and she played with his hair until he was ready to hear the world again. That’s the kind of thing they do for each other—well, that and covering for each other when they go on murderous rampages.

He braids her hair carefully, making sure it’s tight enough to stay in place if she gets into a fight but loose enough to not give her a headache, and kisses the top of her head when he’s done. “Was I quiet enough?” he asks, because Nat still believes love is for children and even if he means it, it’s better to show than tell with her.

She nods and squeezes his arm briefly. “One might almost believe you have impulse control,” she says, because Clint still doesn’t like compliments unless he’s too fucked out to refute them and they don’t do that anymore, but he still likes knowing he helped.

“I most certainly do not,” Clint says, grinning as he hauls her up onto the couch. “Dog Cops?”

Natasha rolls her eyes but nods. “Two episodes,” she says, because even if she doesn’t like the show, he does and she would do anything for him.

“I’ll get those chips you like,” Clint says, because wven if he thinks her chips are stinky and gross, she likes them and he’d do anything for her.

That’s what they do.

[hawksonfire]

stranded on a desert island & green-eyed epiphany for samclint!

Sam’s not jealous of a piece of driftwood. He’s not. It’s just a chunk of wood being carried by Clint.

Shirtless.

Sweaty.

In the sunlight.

But he’s not jealous of the piece of wood, because it’s just a piece of wood. He’s the one who gets to sleep next to Clint while they’re on this godforsaken island—to keep warm, of course—he’s the one who gets to talk to Clint all day, and he’s the one who watch Clint try and make them a fort to sleep in.

“The storm’ll be here soon, I think,” Clint says, forcing the driftwood into place in the sand. “Probably should start getting all the supplies into the fort.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “I’ll grab the water?”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Clint says, planting his hand on Sam’s chest to keep him sitting.

Sam really hopes Clint can’t feel how fast his heart is beating right now. “I won’t?”

“Nope,” Clint says cheerfully. “You’ll stay put while I get the supplies, and then I’ll come back for you. Gotta stay off that leg, Sammy boy.”

Sam grumbles, but he doesn’t put up any real fight. Clint gathers all their food and water and puts it inside the fort, then comes back for Sam. “I coulda walked,” Sam tries halfheartedly.

“Nah,” Clint says, scooping him up like he weighs less than that piece of wood. “Besides, I was getting kind of jealous.”

“Jealous?” Sam asks. “Of what?”

Clint blushes, his already sunburnt skin going a shade darker. “Of the chair,” he admits. “It’s stupid.”

“You—oh. Oh.” Sam blinks, his mouth open in surprise. “I was jealous of the wood you were carrying earlier,” he admits.

“Aw, Sammy,” Clint teases. He gently sets Sam down on their shared bedroll, propping himself up on an elbow next to him. “Whaddaya say we make good on this surprise vacation, hm?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Sam says grinning.

[hawksonfire]

for the prompts things, winterhawk, Library AU & Enemies to Lovers, possibly they're enemies who realize they both like the same book series?

“Hey, we got a new shipment,” Nat says as she walks by. “It’s in the back, and it’s your turn to unload.”

Clint stands up, dusting off his pants. “Aw, Nat, you always give me the best jobs,” he says, batting his eyes at her.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t look now, but your favourite person is here.” She jerks her head towards the circulation desk and Clint looks to see one Bucky Barnes standing there with a pile of books in his arms.

“I hate you,” Clint informs Nat as he heads over. He’s on desk duty today, so as much as he doesn’t like Barnes, he has to help him. “Hi there, sir.” Bucky’s always been a jerk to him, and unfortunately Clint can’t be a jerk back. He still takes his sweet damn time checking Bucky’s books out though.

Barnes looks up from his books, the smile falling off his face as he sees Clint. “Barton,” he says, setting his books down.

Clint ignores the flat tone and pastes a smile onto his face. “Let’s see what you’ve got today.” He picks up the books and examines them, scanning them purposefully slowly. Romance, thriller, biography, adventure—wait a minute. “You like the Quadstar Trilogy?”

“It’s my favourite series,” Barnes says stiffly.

“No way,” Clint says. “Mine too!”

Barnes stares at him. “Really? You aren’t just saying that to, I dunno, make fun of me or something?”

“I don’t joke about books, Barnes,” Clint says seriously. He scans the book and hands it back to Barnes, preparing to forget this weird conversation ever happened when—

“Maybe we could get together and talk about it sometime?” Barnes asks, his cheeks turning red as he runs a hand through his hair.

Clint looks him up and down, tilting his head. “I’d like that,” he says after a moment. “I’d like that a lot.”

@winterhawkbingo square G4 - Librarian Clint

[hawksonfire]

writing prompt!!!!! ghost au, unrequited love, buckydall??!??

Bucky sees him sometimes. The tall man with golden horns and golden eyes. He’s been in Bucky’s life since he was a boy, always just across the street or on the other side of the battlefield. At first, he thought the golden-eyed man was a blessing. A guardian angel sent from above to protect him.

Then he went to war and stopped believing in angels. Stopped believing in much of anything.

There was Azzano, where the golden-eyed man stood over him and watched impassively, and Bucky was too weak to say anything. He could only stare, begging the golden-eyed man to save him, to end the pain he was in.

There was the train, where the golden-eyed man was crouched right next to Steve. He didn’t cry when Bucky fell, even though he knows the golden-eyed man heard Bucky’s screams.

There was Hydra, but the golden-eyed man didn’t show up there until the helicarrier. He stood behind Bucky as Steve fell, watching over his shoulder until Bucky couldn’t stand it anymore and went after Steve.

He’s hiding out in an abandoned building a few months after the helicarrier when he sees him again. “Why are you here?” Bucky cries, standing with his fists balled by his sides.

“I am here to watch,” the golden-eyed man says. “I am here because I care.”

“If you cared for me, why haven’t you fucking done anything?” Bucky screams.

“I cannot interfere,” he says, his golden eyes catching the fading light.

“I’ve been through hell three times over, you think I give a damn that you care?” Bucky scoffs. “Please. If you truly cared, you would have fucking interfered.”

“I cannot interfere,” the golden-eyed man says agaim, and when Bucky turns around, he’s gone.

[hawksonfire]

unexpected virgin & kink for brucebucky

“You’re a what?” There’s no judgement in Bucky’s voice, just curiousity.

“I’m a virgin,” Bruce says quietly, fidgeting with his bedsheets. “I was never the most confident guy before, and after… Well. There was never anyone who was willing to risk it, and now that I’ve figured out how to control it, there was no one I trusted enough. Until you.”

“Bruce, I’m honoured,” Bucky says softly, taking Bruce’s hand. “And we can go as slow as you want, or we can stop completely. I’m not going anywhere, and neither is my attraction to you.”

“That means a lot,” Bruce says, smiling. “As do you. But I want to do this. I’m ready.”

“Alright,” Bucky says, and he leans in and kisses Bruce gently, moving his hand to Bruce’s thigh. “Ready for the blindfold?”

Bruce takes a deep breath. “Ready.”

[hawksonfire]

A follow-up to the ghost au Buckydall one, pretty please?

“Why do I gotta come to this thing, Steve?” Bucky asks as Steve pulls him along.

“Bucky, Thor’s a god,” Steve says. “Plus, he’s actually a really nice guy, and he wants to meet you. He’s bringing some people from New Asgard, too.”

Bucky sighs but lets Steve pull him along. He is kind of excited to meet Thor—Steve won’t shut up about him. After some twists and turns, they make it to the meeting spot just as the first car is pulling up. A giant of a man steps out, long Viking-type braids in his blond hair and beard. “Steve!” He says happily, and Steve grins and goes right in for a hug.

“It’s good to see you, Thor,” Steve says after releasing him. “This is Bucky, my best friend.”

“I have heard much about you, Bucky,” Thor says, shaking his hand. “And this is my best friend, Heimdall.”

Bucky turns to see a golden-eyed man step out of the car, and he knows, even before Bucky sees Heimdall’s face, that this is the golden-eyed man he’s seen his whole life. Almost as if in a trance, he walks over to Heimdall and looks up at him. “You,” he growls, and then he hauls a fist back and slams it into Heimdall’s face.

——————-

“I’m not going to apologize,” Bucky says flatly, arms crossed. Steve may have locked them in this room together until he apologizes, but Bucky’s a patient man. Far more patient than Steve is stubborn, anyhow.

“I do not expect you to,” Heimdall says, still holding a tissue to his nose. “You have every right to be angry, but would you permit me to explain?”

“You have two minutes,” Bucky says.

Heimdall nods, removes the tissue and starts to talk. He tells Bucky a story of being chosen young for the highest honour, of guarding the Bifrost. He was chosen by their king and he swore an oath to never leave his post—and he never did. “The closest I ever came was when you were taken by Hydra the first time,” he says solemnly. “I left my post to beg my king to allow me to save you, and he punished me by throwing me in the deepest cells for a month, years in Midgardian time. When I got out, I couldn’t find you.”

“Why me?” Bucky asks, after a moment. “What’s so special about me?”

“The Norns have intertwined our life threads, Bucky Barnes,” Heimdall says. He makes no move towards Bucky, but the space between them seems infinitely smaller somehow. “I know not why, but I am not so big a fool to disregard it.”

“Well, you maybe aren’t, but I’m sure not going to listen to these Norns,” Bucky says. “I won’t punch you again, but I can’t get over a whole lifetime of anger in an afternoon. Life threads be damned, I make my own fucking choices now.”

Heimdall inclines his head. “I would never ask of you anything different.”

Bucky turns and leaves without another word, shouldering his way past Steve and Thor silently. He has a lot to think about.

[hawksonfire]

prompts!! Circus AU!! First Kiss!! Winterhawk!!!

The lights dim and the spotlights turn on, shining up towards the top of the tent. A hush falls over the crowd as they see the two figures at opposite ends of the tent raise their hands high into the air and give a little wave.

Bucky tucks away a joke to tell Clint later about how cliche the crowd is and focuses on the act. Clint is trying a new trick tonight, and even though they've practiced it a million times before, this is the first time in front of a live audience. We got this, he signs to Clint at the other end of the tent.

Even from here, he can see the smirk on Clint's face. I know, is his response, and then they hear the musical cue.

Bucky backs up a couple steps, hops onto his rig, and then launches himself into the air at the same time as Clint. They swing towards each other and back once, twice, three times—

And then Clint lets go of his rig, sailing through the air and does a triple flip right overtop of an explosion of rainbow confetti. His hands slap into Bucky's, stinging shocks echoing through them. Bucky's legs strain with the added weight of a new body, but he's anchored safely and Clint knows not to move too much.

They swing back to the platform, the spotlights still on them, and then back out again, and Bucky gathers all his strength and bends himself in half, throwing Clint up into the air above him for the best part of the trick.

Clint spins and spins, twisting his body in impressive ways, and then starts to fall back towards the ground. The crowd gasps in horror because there's no one there to catch him, and Bucky can hear the shouts begin—

And then he swings back and Clint's hands are in his again. They swing back to the platform and land with nary a stumble, bowing to the raucous cheers of the crowd below.

Clint turns to Bucky, joy on his face and laughter on his lips, and opens his mouth to say something.

Bucky doesn't let him say anything. He just kisses him, in full view of the crowd with the spotlight still on them. The crowd gets even louder, cheering and screaming, and Bucky laughs.

Clint beams at him, taking his hand as they both give their final bow with fingers entangled. Not too shabby for a first kiss, Bucky thinks. Not too shabby at all.

[hawksonfire]

Winterhawk, 40 "Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?", please 🤍

Clint's been trying to make Bucky laugh since the day he arrived in the Tower. Some of the stupidest shit he's ever done has been to achieve this goal, but it hasn't worked yet/

He's done everything from whipped cream pies to Steve's face to dying Tony's hair shampoo green to shitty knock-knock jokes left outside Bucky's door. Nothing seems to work; he hasn't seen a single smile cross that smouldering face.

"You are hopeless," Natasha says to him one day, after a particularly stupid prank—it involved glitter and cut-outs of Steve in the suit.

"I just want him to laugh, Tash," Clint says. "Just once, I would like to see him happy."

"Have you tried actually talking to him?" She asks, lifting an eyebrow.

"I told him knock-knock jokes," Clint says.

"That's not talking to him," Nat says, shaking her head. "That's telling him jokes. Put down the whoopee cushion and try actually having a conversation with him, Clint."

Clint pouts, but hands her the whoopee cushion. "Still use that on Sam," he says as he walks away to go find Bucky. He eventually finds him in the kitchen, watching Bruce bake. "Hiya Bucko, how's it hangin'?"

Bucky snorts. "You finally give up on getting me to smile?" He asks, a smile playing at his lips.

Clint stares at him. "Have I entered an alternate dimension?" He asks. "Or did you just finally crack a smile for me? Natasha was right."

"She usually is," Bucky agrees. "Now sit down. I hear you've got some pretty terrible jokes, and I want to hear them."

[hawksonfire]

Hey! For the ask game could you do Ghost AU/Forgotten First Meeting for wintermoonhawk? Or just MarcClint if you’d rather.

"You're a ghost," the man clad in white says, two crescent moon blades in his hands.

"Yes," Clint says, floating a foot off the ground. "We've been over this, Moon Knight, last time we met."

"I've never met you before in my life," Marc says, his grip on the blades tightening. Honestly, it's like he's forgotten everything about Clint. Doesn't he know that blades can't hurt him? Hardly anything can anymore.

"Sure you have," Clint says, crossing his legs in midair. "We met last year in Tunisia. And I met Steven in London, six months ago, and Jake gave me a ride to the airport last month. We've met since then, Marc, more than once."

Marc's stance goes a little lax, and Clint can just picture the look on his face he gets when he's talking to Steven or Jake, and then it stiffens up again and his mask almost seems to snarl. "None of us have ever seen you before in our lives," he says. "Now tell us how you know who we are, and we'll go easy on you."

"You really don't remember?" Clint says, floating down until he's standing on the ground. "Coffee in Kansas? Drinks in Toronto? None of it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Marc says, advancing on Clint.

Clint's fist clenches and he shoots up into the air, too high for Marc to get to him. "Get out here, you bird skull headed bastard!" He shouts, glaring up at the moon. "I have a bone to pick with you!"

There's nothing, for a while, just Marc pacing underneath him, and then—

"What do you want, bird?"

"You made him forget," Clint accuses. "Give them back. Now."

A sigh. "You have always been insufferable." A wave of a gloved hand, and Khonshu disappears into the moonlight.

"Ass," Clint grumbles. He looks down to see Marc on his knees, clutching at his head, and he floats down quickly. "Back with me, Spector?"

Marc looks up at him, the mask dissolving into a ray of moonlight. "Clint?"

Clint smiles at him, gently thumbing over a bandage across his nose. "There you are."

[hawksonfire]

it's not in the AU's, but could you do a sugar daddy AU? and perhaps their first meeting?

"You did what?!" Bucky stares at his sister, his phone loosely clutched in one hand.

"I signed you up for a sugar daddy service," Becca says, shrugging. "I don't see what the big deal is, Bucky, tons of people have sugar daddies."

"Becs, I don't need a sugar daddy!" Bucky says. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, I don't need some rich guy to buy me fancy things I'll never wear in exchange for pictures of my feet or something."

Becca rolls her eyes. "That's not what it's about, Bucky. Wouldn't it be nice to not have to worry about groceries, or to be able to buy that new jacket you were looking at the other day?"

Bucky shrugs, unwilling to admit that she's right. He doesn't need someone to take care of him.

She rolls her eyes. "You're ridiculous. Just look at the damn pictures. You've got four potential sugar daddy's already, and at least three of them are hot."

"Fine," Bucky says, grumbling as he opens up the app. "But I won't be happy about—woah." His eyes go wide as he opens up the pictures on the first potential 'daddy'. Blond hair, blue eyes, muscles for days, and he has a cute dog. "Damn."

"What was that?" Becca asks, cupping a hand over her ear. "I couldn't hear you over the sound of me being right."

Bucky throws a pillow at her, ignoring her squawk as it knocks her over. "He's hot. What do I do now?"

"You message him, you dummy," Becca says, pulling the pillow away from her face. "Let him know you're interested."

"What do I say? I don't want to sound like an idiot." Bucky types and deletes various versions of 'hey' with Becca looking over his shoulder.

"Too late," she says cheerfully. "You always sound like an idiot. I dunno, just say that you like his pictures or something."

"Thanks, Becs," Bucky says flatly. "So much help, you are."

She shoves at him and he shoves back, hard enough that she rolls off the couch. "I want ice cream," she declares, and heads into the kitchen.

Bucky stares at his phone, willing the prefect starting message to come to him. "Grow a pair, Barnes," he mutters to himself as he starts typing.

Hi! I like your dog. And you aren't half bad either ;)

He hits send and immediately is hit with a sense of embarrassment, even though he's done nothing worth being embarrassed over. As he's sitting there, stewing in his feelings, his phone dings with a return message.

Thanks :D you're not too bad yourself, pretty boy ;)

Bucky grins, blushing faintly. He's always been easy for a compliment, especially when they call him pretty.

So, Clint. Tell me about yourself :)

@winterhawkbingo - I4 - Sugar Daddy AU

[hawksonfire]

bar AU/almost kiss thank you love you

Bucky's working his ass off behind the bar, pouring drinks and practically leaping from customer to customer—it's a real busy night, and the only other bartender has been busy all this time with a singular customer. "Steve!" Bucky calls across the bar. "Stop flirting and get to work! There are people waiting, hotshot."

Steve says something to the other blond he's speaking to, winks at him and turns away, making a face at Bucky as soon as his back is turned. "What's up your ass, Buck?" he says, smirking as he wiggles past Bucky.

"Not what I'd like to be up there," Bucky retorts, pressing himself against the bar. "Chop chop."

"Yessir Mr. Barnes sir!" Steve says, shooting off a salute as he starts making drinks.

Bucky scowls at him, but with the two of them working, they manage to get most of the crowd dealt with in about ten minutes. Once there aren't as many people clamouring for his attention, he leans forward against the bar and blows some hair out of his face. "Busy night?" someone asks.

Bucky looks up to see the blond that Steve had been talking to earlier looking at him sympathetically. "You have no idea," he says with a smile. "Be glad to get home once my shift is over."

"Yeah? You got someone waiting for you?" The blond says, leaning over the bar slightly with a faint smile on his face.

"Yeah, I—" Bucky's cut off when someone bumps into him from behind, shoving him forward against the bar and towards the client. He comes to a stop half an inch away from the man's face, so close he can see the flecks of green in his blue eyes.

"I'm Clint," the man says, his lips almost touching Bucky's as he speaks.

"Bucky, and the man currently pressed against my ass is my boyfriend Steve," Bucky murmurs, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards.

"This is my way of asking if you want to come home with us," Steve says cheerfully, seemingly uncaring that Bucky and Clint are a breath away from kissing. "You're exactly Bucky's type."

"Oh?" Clint says with a smirk. He doesn't move away.

"He's not wrong," Bucky admits. He bites at his lip, admiring the line of Clint's jaw blatantly. "So, whaddaya say?"

"I'd like that," Clint says, grinning. "I'd like that a lot."

also written for @winterhawkbingo Square O5 - Ameriwinterhawk