#winterhawkweek2019

[aww-writing-no]

For Winterhawk Week, Day 6

Ao3 Link

Ghost: 

Clint was surrounded by bodies and thought he was going to puke. He closed his eyes, trying to breathe slowly through his mouth, willing away the nausea and trying his best to play dead. He really didn’t want to throw up right now - he was buried under a couple of his former collegues and would rather not add vomit to the list of body fluids he was covered in.

He was trying to focus on slow even breathing when he felt some of the weight on him shift. Fucksticks. Martinez and Johnson were definitely dead, so the only reason they’d be moving would be if somebody moved them.

He cracked an eye open and saw the tip of a black combat boot near his face. A very-much-not-SHEILD-issue black combat boot. Double fucksticks.

The rest of the weight was removed from his back, and Clint felt himself being hauled upright by the back of his vest. Yup, Johnson had definitely cracked a couple ribs when he fell on top of him. He kept his eyes closed, willing his stomach to settle.

When he opened his eyes, the sight before him was enough to make him finally throw up. He shook, spilling the contents of his stomach all over the chest of the man who was holding him up. Like Clint, the man in front of him was wearing all black combat gear. Unlike Clint, he was wearing a mask covering half his face and had an assault rifle slung over his shoulder. His hair looked greasy and unwashed, but the most remarkable thing about him were his eyes. His soot-covered grey eyes that were completely devoid of all emotion.

Then Clint glanced at the arm holding him up and nearly choked on the remains of his own vomit. Scratch that about the eyes. “You’re not supposed to be real,” he whispered, almost to himself.

Everybody knew the assassin with the metal arm was a ghost story to scare baby agents. The Winter Soldier wasn’t real.

Except here he was, metal arm locked around Clint’s tactical vest, covered in puke, and eyes as blank as they’d been before Clint accused him of being a nightmare.

The eyes continued to stare, and the Winter Soldier’s head turned slightly as if deciding what to do with a minor inconvenience.

Clint wasn’t particularly surprised when a hand wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air. He was a bit surprised the guy wasn’t using the metal one to just crush his windpipe instantly, but maybe he liked to watch his victims suffer.

Clint clawed at the fingers around his neck and kicked out at the Winter Soldier’s immovable form. It was mostly out of panicked instinct. He didn’t actually expect to survive this. All his teammates were dead and he was being choked by a guy out of legends. He clearly wasn’t one for leaving survivors or he’d be more than just a ghost story. When Clint’s vision began to go grey, he just wished he’d been able to say goodbye to Coulson. He’d be so disappointed in Clint, dying without saying goodbye.   ………

“Why did you spare me?” Clint asked Bucky Barnes the first time he met him.

Bucky stopped to stare blankly at Clint, nearly causing a collision with Steve and Fury who were trailing behind, clearly arguing.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked harshly. Steve’s head snapped up to stare at Bucky.

Clint stuck out his hand. “Clint Barton, the Amazing Hawkeye, former SHIELD agent you decided not to kill about twelve years back. Not that I’m complaining, mind. I’m just curious.”

Bucky took his hand tentatively, giving it a quick shake before dropping it to cross his arms across his chest. “I still don’t know who you are.”

“Seriously, man? That’s some convenient amnesia.”

Steve turned to glare at Clint. “He can’t help it,” he snapped. “He was brainwashed.”

“Yeah, so was I,” Clint snapped back before turning his attention back to Bucky. “December ‘02? Warehouse on the outskirts of Paris? About thirty SHIELD agents trying to take down what we thought was an AIM bioweapons repository? Everyone taken out by an assassin with a metal arm and an assault rifle except for me?”

It was Fury’s turn to glare at Clint. “You said the building exploded when you were coming back from taking a leak.”

Oops. That sounded about right. When he’d woken up hours later in the warehouse, the Winter Soldier had been nowhere to be seen. Clint had checked the building for the bioweapons they’d been searching for, but like the assassin the freezers were empty and they were nowhere to be seen. After that, Clint had blown the building himself. Not like he could put “the Winter Soldier killed all my colleagues, but apparently decided to let me live” in a mission report.

Clint shrugged. “It wasn’t a lie. I just left out the bit where I exploded it.”

“And where you came face-to-face with the world’s most feared assassin and lived!” Fury shouted, hands balled into fists.

“What, like you’d believe me?”

Fury opened his mouth, likely to begin a very loud rant, when Bucky said quietly, “You threw up on me.”

Three heads snapped around to look at him.

“I picked you up and you threw up on me.”

“You do remember!” Clint crowed, pumping his fist in the air.

“I think...” Bucky hesitated before pausing and turning to Steve, “Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone on Coney Island?”

Steve smiled fondly. “Yeah, and I threw up?”

“I think he,” Bucky paused and turned back to Clint, “you reminded me of that.”

Clint’s eyes widened in shock. “I reminded you of Captain America? Where’s Nat? She’s never gonna believe this.”

“That you threw up on the Winter Soldier?” Fury said. “She’s never going to let you live that down.”

[winterhawk-week]

Winterhawk Week ~ Sept. 21 - Sept. 27

Here are the prompts for each day of the week above! You are free to interpret them in any way you want!

There is no limit to how many prompts you can use or how many things you can make for each day. If you want to make three separate things, that’s absolutely wonderful, go for it you ambitious babe! If you want to make one thing but combine all three prompts, you can do that too, lovely! Create as many or as little things as you want. This is all for fun - so don’t stress!

The week for posting is in five weeks, so you may create things whenever you’d like. Just, if you want it to be added to the collection or reposted to the blog, please wait until the week to post.

Now, onward to the prompts my lovelies! ~

Day 1:

Prompts are: ~ Search and Rescue ~||~ “It’s lonely here without you.” ~||~ Forbidden Love ~

Day 2:

Prompts are: ~ Awful First Meeting ~||~ “Are you jealous?” ~||~ Holding Hands ~

Day 3:

Prompts are: ~ Soulbound ~||~ “I’ve wanted this for so long.” ~||~ Opposites Attract ~

Day 4:

Prompts are: ~ Trapped Together ~||~ “Take that back!” ~||~ Snowball Fight ~

Day 5:

Prompts are: ~ Arranged Marriage ~||~ “Make me.” ~||~ Forgiveness ~

Day 6:

Prompts are: ~ Amnesia ~||~ “Why did you spare me?” ~||~ Accidental Confessions ~

Day 7:

Prompts are: ~ Fireworks ~||~ “What a pretty sight.” ~||~ Last Day Together ~

Have fun and happy creating Winterhawk Loves!

[aww-writing-no]

For Winterhawk Week, Day 5

Ao3 Link 

Seminary:

“Consider it an arranged marriage,” Clint told Bucky helpfully, folding another pair of black pants and slipping them into Bucky’s suitcase. 

“How the fuck is joining the priesthood an arranged marriage?” Bucky snapped, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Technically you’re getting married to God,” Clint said, shrugging his shoulders. “It was arranged for you, therefore you’re entering into an arranged marriage.” 

“It was arranged for me by Nick Fury because he needs someone undercover in the seminary!” Bucky yelled. “Why can’t you do this? Steve’s gonna kill me for blasphemy.” 

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Clint protested. It wasn’t like Fury was asking him to kill someone… probably. Maybe. This time. 

Bucky threw his hands in the air. “It’s exactly that bad! When he finds out about this he’s gonna drag me to church and make me go to confession with a real priest. ‘Forgive me, Father, for I have pretended to be a motherfucking priest because my goddamned boss thought someone was smuggling alien tech through the fucking seminary.’ Yeah, I’m sure that’s gonna go over real swell.” 

Clint snorted, trying to stifle a laugh unsuccessfully. “I mean, maybe lay off the swearing in the confessional?”

[aww-writing-no]

For Winterhawk Week, Day 3

Ao3 Link

Bond: 

Clint looked up from the cash register at Strike Bean Delta when he heard the door open and a cacophony of voices filled the small shop. Things had been quiet this morning, but with the new recruits arriving at Camp Lehigh today he hadn’t expected it to stay that way for long. 

Sometimes Clint hated being right. 

A whole pack of rowdy young men in army fatigues jostled for space as they stared at the menu above Clint’s head. He was about to roll his eyes at their ridiculous posturing when he laid eyes on one of them and felt a sharp pang of - something. 

There was nothing particularly remarkable about him. Grey-blue eyes and brown hair cropped army regulation short, he looked the same as half the kids who came through here for training. Yet Clint felt an immediate bond. Not lust. Definitely not lust, but more like… an old, comfortable friendship. Which was ridiculous because they’d never met before. 

When grey-blue eyes came up to the counter to place his order - medium dark-roast with extra room for cream - he paused, hand in the air and blinking slowly as he went to hand Clint his money. He shook his head slightly before asking, “Have we met?” 

Clint took the money and counted back his change before replying, “I don’t think so”. 

He seemed as confused as Clint, but didn’t press it, walking away to let Clint take the next order. On his way out he stuffed a five dollar bill in the tip jar, which seemed to indicate something, though Clint had no idea what it could be. 

Like many of the new recruits, grey-blue eyes became a regular over the next few months. Strike Bean Delta was the closest coffeeshop to the base, and got a steady stream of business from army folk who quickly tired of whatever institutional swill they served in the mess hall. 

With time Clint learned his name was James, but he went by Bucky of all things. He learned that he was eighteen, fresh out of high school, and had enlisted with his best friend Steve. He had big plans for when he got out of the army, most of which involved going to school and getting some kind of advanced science degree. He took his coffee with a frankly obscene amount of cream and sugar, and had a penchant for apricot cheese danishes. 

Basically, he was nothing like Clint. 

Clint took his coffee black, and often straight from the pot when he wasn’t working. He wasn’t a big fan of pastry, possibly because only ate them when they were stale - two days old and unfit to sell to customers, even at a discount. Technically he was supposed to throw them out, but he wasn’t about to go wasting food that was still edible. 

Clint had dropped out of high school at sixteen and immediately started doing whatever it took to keep food on the table. You know, when he managed to find a place that actually had a table. He was living on the street and had started getting into some real shady shit when he’d been approached by a guy who did outreach for a youth shelter. Somehow between Nick and Phil and the other counselors at SHIELD (Shelter for Homeless something or other - Clint could never remember the full name) they managed to help him get his life back on track. They weren’t good tracks. They were rusty and uneven and usually full of giant splinters, but they were his tracks all the same. 

When Bucky told him he’d been assigned to a unit and would be shipping out the next day, Clint told him to stay safe and impulsively scrawled his phone number on the side of Bucky’s cup. Bucky stuffed a twenty dollar bill in the tip jar on his way out. 

Clint got a text from an unfamiliar number a couple weeks later. It had a picture of the most dilapidated coffeemaker Clint had ever seen, and looked like it had been set up on a stack of crates in some kind of tent. The text read “I’d kill for a cold brew right now. -Bucky”.  

Clint laughed and sent back a picture of the fruit danishes in the display case. 

“Fuck, I’d kill for those too,” was the reply. 

They’d been texting on and off for close to a year - mostly idle chatter and pictures of deserts and humvees (Bucky) or coffee and dogs (Clint) - when Clint woke up screaming in the middle of the night, feeling like his arm was on fire. 

“What’s going on with your arm?” Natasha asked him later that day. 

Clint shook out his arm for what felt like the millionth time, wishing the pins and needles feeling would go away. He really didn’t want to drop a pot of hot coffee on himself today. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he tried not to make a habit out of it. “I probably just slept on it wrong,” he told her. 

Weeks later, his arm was still giving him problems. 

“Go see a doctor; you probably have a pinched nerve,” Natasha told him. 

“A doctor? Who can afford that?” he asked. Health insurance was for people with Real Jobs. He worked at a coffee shop. Besides, he was more worried about the fact he’d sent Bucky a picture of the cutest samoyed he’d ever seen and Bucky still hadn’t responded. One time he’d sent back a picture of one of the bomb sniffer dogs, and Clint still wasn’t over the cuteness of the german shepherd in its little vest and goggles. Clint wasn’t too proud to admit he was hoping for a reprise. 

When Bucky stepped into Strike Bean Delta almost six months later, Clint wouldn’t have recognised him if he hadn’t felt that sharp pang of something when he walked in the door. 

Bucky was wearing civvies, long hair tied up in a messy half-bun, and a lot more shadows under his eyes than when he’d left. Most notably, though, was the distinct lack of a left arm. 

Clint’s own arm went numb at the sight, and the blender he was holding fell to the ground with a loud crash. Strawberry-banana smoothie coated his shoes and oozed slowly across the floor. 

“Aww, smoothie, no,” he whined, and a wet towel hit him in the face, courtesy of Natasha. 

Cleaning up the smoothie gave him plenty of time to try to sort through his feelings, because he was having a lot of them. Like, a LOT of them. By the time he finished cleaning up his mess, his feelings still weren’t sorted, but Bucky was sitting awkwardly at one of the tables with a coffee in front of him. 

“Talk to him,” Natasha said, forcing a plate with an apricot cheese danish into his hands. “Don’t drop it,” she added a second later. 

“But Nat,” he whined, sneaking a glance at Bucky who was staring into his coffee like it held the secrets of the universe. 

“Talk. To. Him,” she repeated, turning Clint around by the shoulders and giving him a literal shove in the right direction. 

“Uhh, I’m glad you’re back,” Clint said, sliding the plate in front of Bucky and taking the seat across from him. He nodded at the missing arm. “I’m guessing that’s why I stopped getting pictures of cute dogs in uniform?” 

Bucky looked surprised, then let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Doctors tend to frown on having animals in the ICU,” he said. “Didn’t think you’d be interested in pictures of cups of jello.” 

Clint smiled, nervousness relaxing into a feeling of ease he seldom felt with other people. He rubbed his left arm unconsciously, telling Bucky, “You’d be surprised.” 

That got another laugh out of him and Bucky’s shoulders relaxed as he reached over to take a bite out of the danish. “Oh man, I’ve wanted this for so long” he said, tipping his head back and closing his eyes briefly. “You do not know how many nights I dreamed about coming back here just to eat one of these things.” 

Clint remembered all the times he’d had an unexpected pastry craving over the past few months and thought that maybe he did. 

“Who are you?” he asked abruptly. As soon as the words left his mouth Clint realized how crazy he must sound, but judging by the look Bucky leveled at him, he knew exactly what Clint was asking. 

Bucky took another bite out of the danish and chewed slowly, looking Clint over as if he didn’t know quite what to do with him. “I suppose I could ask you the same question,” he drawled as he finished chewing. “Who’s the mysterious barista that keeps showing up in my dreams?” 

“You dream about me?” Clint asked. 

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

Clint shook his head. “No, not really. I just get these… I dunno, feelings? I don’t know how to explain it. I’m pretty sure I felt when you lost your arm.” 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Bucky said, clearly startled. “That’s- that’s so messed up. I’m really sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Clint said with a shrug. It wasn’t like he had any control over it - like either of them had any control over whatever the heck this was. “Still doesn’t answer my question, though.” 

“Last week I dreamt you lost your keys. You thought you’d dropped them on the subway and you had to have the neighbor let you in,” he told Clint, eyes seemingly focused somewhere past Clint’s left ear. “Last month I dreamt you were at a gun range, except you were hitting the targets using a bow and arrows. Last year when I was deployed I dreamt about you making coffee more times than I could count. One time you were making it while wearing a crocodile costume. I thought I was just missing home, but now? I don’t know.” 

Clint put his head in his hands as Bucky continued to stare off into space. He should probably be getting back to work soon, but this was too weird for words. He’d definitely done all of those things in real life. “It wasn’t a crocodile costume,” he said finally, at a loss for anything better to say. “It was Abigail the Alligator, the mascot for the sporting goods shop I buy my arrows from. They booked a coffee service for a special event, and they offered me a bonus for wearing the costume.”

Bond, Part II: Here

[aww-writing-no]

For Winterhawk Week, Day 4

Ao3 Link

Saved:

“Okay, I take that back,” Clint told Natasha. “This is so much worse than that time in Abidjan. At least there I didn’t have to wear a tux.” 

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Are you really comparing Stark’s charity gala to the week we spent undercover in a war zone?” 

“Nat, this is a war zone!” Clint hissed under his breath. “Have you seen the way those old ladies are looking at me?” He was pretty sure one of them had winked at him earlier. It may have been the single most terrifying sight he’d ever seen, and as Nat had helpfully reminded him, he’d been undercover in a war zone. Militants with assault rifles couldn’t hold a candle to old women with checkbooks, though. 

“Those old ladies are the ones who put up the money to repair the city every time we destroy it,” Natasha said with a long-suffering sigh. “You’re hopeless. I’m going to dance.” 

“Don’t leave me!” Clint whined, trailing after her. He did not trust the way some of these old ladies were looking at him. He had a suspicious feeling his partner’s codename applied to a lot of the women in this room. 

When Nat offered Steve a hand to dance (and he took it, the traitor!) Clint started looking around desperately. There was an old lady wearing green lace and the biggest pearl necklace Clint had ever seen making her way over with a predatory grin on her face. He needed to get out of there and fast, but Stark had expressly forbidden him to physically leave the premises until 11pm. He felt like some kind of reverse Cinderella, trapped at a ball he couldn’t leave. 

Spying Bucky lurking in the corner with a glass of champagne, Clint hustled over and grabbed his hand. As he felt all the plates in Bucky’s hand shift and Clint’s own hand was held in a vise-like grip, he realized this may have been a slight mistake. 

Bucky turned his head to stare at him, eyes sharp and angry, but the hand relaxed. “What the hell? Are you trying to get your hand broken?” he hissed under his breath. 

Clint shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time, but no. I need you to save me.” 

“Save you?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow and looking around incredulously. “Save you from what? I don’t see anything attacking you right now.” 

“From the old ladies,” Clint hissed, stepping closer to Bucky to whisper in his ear. He felt the other man tense, probably unused to having his space invaded from anyone besides Steve. Clint might have felt guilty about that if he wasn’t so desperate for a rescue. 

Before Clint could process what was going on, Bucky had an arm wrapped around Clint’s waist and spun them both in a circle. 

“The older blonde wearing green?” Bucky murmured seriously in Clint’s ear. 

Clint nodded, unsure what was going on but not exactly complaining about Bucky’s embrace. Though in hindsight, it may have been a mistake to ask the Winter Soldier to save him from the crowd. Bucky probably wasn’t going to kill anyone, but Clint was pretty sure Tony would still be mad if Bucky maimed any of the donors at his party. 

Bucky gave a sharp nod before dropping the arm around Clint’s waist and stalking over to the lady in green. Clint’s eyes widened in alarm, but they widened even more as Bucky stopped in front of the lady and took her hand, giving it a kiss as he bowed. 

The lady grinned, clearly delighted. 

Bucky grinned back. Clint had always heard the Bucky Barnes of old was a ladies' man, but this was the first time he’d gotten to see it firsthand. Bucky gestured to the dance floor and Clint watched as the pair waltzed across the room, Bucky carefully guiding her around the crowded dance floor. 

Engrossed in watching Bucky, Clint didn’t notice someone coming coming to stand next to him until they cupped a hand around his elbow. He startled, nearly dropping the plate of canapes he’d snatched off a waiter’s tray as they passed. 

“You look wistful, darling,” a weathered-looking old woman with what looked like rhinestones glued into her updo said as she rubbed Clint’s elbow. “Would you do me the honor of the next dance?” 

Clint blanched. “I, uhh, can’t dance,” he stammered. 

If anything, the woman’s eyes seemed to brighten at that. “Neither could my husband Eustace, God rest his soul, but we always managed all right.” 

Where was Bucky when he needed him? “No, uhh,” Clint stalled, desperate to come up with a plausible lie, “I, umm, sprained my ankle having a snowball fight with Falcon this morning,” he said, hoping Sam would forgive him the lie.

“Oh you poor dear,” the woman said, moving her hand up Clint’s arm and giving it a squeeze. “Shouldn’t you be sitting down or something?” 

Clint was trying to come up with another lie when Bucky materialized in front of them. 

“Clint, are you monopolizing the attention of this gorgeous young lady when you know you can’t dance on that ankle?” 

The woman tittered as Clint silently thanked whatever gods were listening for Bucky’s super soldier hearing. 

“May I have this dance?” Bucky asked the woman, holding his hand palm up as he gave a deep bow from the waist, never breaking eye contact. 

It continued that way for the rest of the evening - Bucky deftly whisking away all the women who showed an interest in Clint. This was a side of Bucky Clint had never seen and he was frankly impressed. He also wished he hadn’t made up the lie about his ankle, because watching Bucky out on the dance floor made him want to join in. Damn, that man could dance. 

The clock struck eleven and Clint made no move to leave, entranced by the sway of Bucky’s hips as he did the foxtrot with a lady in blue lace. They seemed to fit together as if they’d been partnered for years, but so had every other woman Bucky had danced with. 

Clint wanted to be that lady. 

The clock struck twelve and Clint was still there, watching Bucky like some kind of ballroom voyeur. Most of the guests had left, but some of the younger and more adventurous crowd remained. Bucky was currently dancing with someone with electric blue hair and a tailored suit that probably cost more than most of the cars Clint had owned. 

The last guest left around 2am, and Clint was still there. 

Bucky walked over, the swagger in his step belying the fact he’d spent the last five hours dancing nearly nonstop. 

“Hey doll,” he said with a languorous drawl, “do you consider yourself sufficiently saved?” 

Clint blinked. He’d been so entranced he’d forgotten why Bucky was dancing with all those people in the first place. “Uhhhh,” he replied helpfully. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Bucky asked before muttering “Lucky cat,” under his breath. 

Clint nearly choked. 

“Come on guys!” Tony yelled, sweeping in from across the room. “Stop making heart eyes at each other and get a room already!” 

You know, Clint thought, that actually wasn’t a bad idea.

[winterhawk-week]

Hi everyone!

I’m so excited that Winterhawk Week 2019 has officially begun and though I’m a day late with this post, I still wanted to say this.

You absolutely do not need to post your creations on the day for the prompt you chose! I know things can pop up unexpectedly or the creative juices aren’t flowing like you want them to.

So this is just a little notice that I will be making a masterpost of everything created for Winterhawk Week on October 5th. So you have until then to get your stuff in to be on the masterpost!

But, Honestly, I will still continue to repost everything I see tagged #winterhawkweek for the foreseeable future because again, I know sometimes things happen and you can’t create things in a specific timeframe.

Point of this is, create all the things! Don’t worry about rushing to post on the day of the prompt you used. Have fun, don’t stress and happy creating!

-💜❤️

[aww-writing-no]

When Bucky meets Clint, he's pretty sure he's going to be the one to get him killed.

For Winterhawk Week Day Two: Awful first meeting, “Are you jealous?”, Holding hands

[aww-writing-no]

When you have a search dog, you get used to the early morning call outs. But it doesn't mean Clint likes leaving to go tramping through the woods with Lucky.

For Winterhawk Week Day One: Search and rescue, “It’s lonely here without you”, Forbidden Love

[winterhawk-week]

Winterhawk Week ~ September 21 - September 27

Hello Winterhawk Lovelies! 

A new Winterhawk Week is coming your way soon! All Fan Creators – Writers, Artists, Etc. – are welcome!

This will be like your typical shipweek. If you don’t know what a ship week is, it’s basically just a random week where each day will have one to three prompts for you to choose from to create something Winterhawk related.

Those creations, no matter what they are, do not have to have Winterhawk as a romantic pairing. You can have the pairing be romantic, platonic, they can be enemies or partners in crime – whatever you decide, they can be. The one thing we ask of you is to have the main pairing be about Bucky and Clint and not have them thrown in at the last second.

There will be an AO3 collection available and open for everyone’s works to be kept in one place for the week, which you can find here. Anything that gets added to the AO3 collection, is tagged with #winterhawkweek or #winterhawkweek2019 or tagging this blog, or if you submit your entry through through the blog, will be queued to post to the blog throughout the week.

Once the week is complete, there will be a masterlist with everything that was created – However, that masterlist won’t be created until the 30th of September. This way anyone who is working on something but didn’t get it done in time can still submit their creations!

If you have any questions, please ask them! I will try my best to answer them as soon as I can.

*Special thanks to @hogwartstoalexandria for helping me with the basics of setting up a ship week. I loved how she did the WIW and it sorta inspired me to create this. - so thank you so much, darling! I really appreciate your help. 💕

Because Marie inspired be to do this, and the multiple options of prompts for each day was a fantastic idea, I decided to do multiple prompts too! There will be another post with the prompts for each day so keep a lookout for that!

-💜❤️💜❤️

[winterhawk-week]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Nudity, Accidental Ass Grabbing, Idiots in Love, Platonic Soulmarks, They Might be Idiots But at Least They Used Their Words Series: Part 3 of WinterHawk Week 2019 Summary:

The people who mean the most to you leave marks, not just on your soul, but on your skin. Family, friends, lovers, soulmates. Patches of colour showing where you first touched, skin to skin. The problem is that not everyone's first touches are shaking hands or patting shoulders. Sometimes people are clumsy. Like Clint.

'The one place Bucky hadn’t expected to leave his colour was right in the middle of Clint Barton’s forehead.'

[winterhawk-week]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton Characters: Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel) Additional Tags: Idiots in Love, Angst, it's not actually angsty, They're just dramatic, Nonbinary Character, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Melodrama Series: Part 7 of WinterHawk Week 2019 Summary:

Clint and Bucky spend their last day together before the end. Neither of them are coping very well.

[winterhawk-week]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton Characters: Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Lucky (Hawkeye) Additional Tags: Idiots in Love, Amnesia, Temporary Amnesia, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Nonbinary Character, Nat is a good bro, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, pizza dog - Freeform, Accidental Love Confessions, Poor Timing, No beta we die like mne Series: Part 6 of WinterHawk Week 2019 Summary:

A knock to the head leaves Bucky short a few memories. Again.

Clint has a dog with a knack for cheering up even the grumpiest bastards, and sneaks him in to visit Bucky.

[winterhawk-week]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Bar Room Brawl, Meet-Ugly, References to Domestic Violence, (does not contain domestic violence), referenced homophobia, assholes getting punched, Idiots in Love Series: Part 1 of WinterHawk Week 2019 Summary:

Bucky walks out of a bathroom and straight into a fist. Somehow he still ends up with a date.

[winterhawk-week]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel) Additional Tags: Fluff, Snow, Snowball Fight, Idiots in Love, Established Relationship, Marriage Proposal, Nat is scary, Nonbinary Character, Gender-Neutral Pronouns Series: Part 4 of WinterHawk Week 2019 Summary:

When you've got two sharpshooters working together in a snowball fight, things are bound to get interesting.

[winterhawk-week]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury Series: Part 6 of Winterhawk Week 2019 Summary:

Clint meets the Winter Soldier about 12 years before he meets Bucky Barnes.

For Winterhawk Week Day Six.

[winterhawk-week]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Clint Barton & Tony Stark Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, boys using their words, Happy Ending, NO dub-con Series: Part 5 of WinterHawk Week 2019 Summary:

Someone must marry the Barnes heir to secure the alliance with the Stark kingdom. Clint has volunteered but, having met his betrothed, there's just one problem - Barnes apparently can't stand the sight of him.