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#clint barton prompt

kilibaggins · 25 days

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Physical Affection Prompts

hi all! I just thought I'd make my own list of various physical affection prompts and since no idea is ever original some of these are 100% on other peoples lists but im not using other lists as reference or copying anyone. this list is for my own use and other peoples use and there's no need to credit me (though it's always nice).

reblog to have your followers send you these as prompts !! or just use them for your own writing.

all of these are meant as sfw prompts but some may seem a bit more intimate.

tracing someones face

tucking hair behind their ear

forehead kisses

desperate hugs

crying into their neck/shoulder

reversed little spoon & big spoon (the one who is normally the big spoon is the little spoon and vice versa)

holding their hand under a table

kissing their hand

kissing their collarbone

sitting with legs in their lap

morning cuddles where they're both mostly asleep and they don't want to wake up yet but they want to cuddle

petting their hair

head pats

sitting on the floor in front of them while they sit on the couch and their arms touch their legs.

holding both of their hands

hugs from behind

gently touching their waist to move past them (dont do this to someone you're not dating! dont believe I have to say this.)

grabbing their wrist or hand and turning them around

playing with their hands when nervous

slow dancing

#prompts #otp prompts #touch prompts #physical affection prompts #fluff prompts #send requests #specifically rn im in the nood for steve rogers #or thor odinson or clint barton or bucky barnes but specifically steve

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tremorsmackenzie · 10 months

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There is an unexplored time period in shield where maria, bobbi, may, natasha, isabel hartley, sharon carter, clint and coulson all worked simultaneously at shield and its a crime that we havent seen anything set in it. that literally sounds like the best thing ever.

like, may has nat in her contacts (season 2 i think). come on.

just imagine the snark.

#melinda may #natasha romanoff #barbara morse #maria hill #isabel hartley #sharon carter #clint barton #phil coulson #agents of shield #fanfic prompts

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oldfangirl81 · 2 months

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Because even if it wasn't true Bucky/Nat/Kate would write it while he slept. And Clint would wear it with a smirk.

#fic prompt #winterhawk #marvel #hawkeye #clint barton #the avengers

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frenchfriedgiraffe · 3 months

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week 4: fear

so… 6 days and a billion drafts later, its finally here! i definitely took some creative liberties with this prompt, but i was rereading fun and games and it kind of just took over my brain… a lot.

#fun fact i drew like a hundred different fandoms for this prompt #rip the snufkin angst you will be missed #hawkeye fanart #clint barton #hawkeye #matt fraction #marvel comics #marvel 616 #tw blood #cw blood #my art

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frankthesnek · 3 months

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♡ sharing a kiss before going in for work (but make it accidental first kiss due to sleep deprivation)

Normally, I only do each prompt once, but since this is so different from the other ask for this one I'll do it again! Thank you 😘

Coming in Hot

Rated G

Prompt: a kiss before going to work

900 words

Steve stood next to the toaster, tapping his fingers on the counter as he waited for his bagel to be done. It was early, and the tower was calm. He'd seen Clint and Natasha preparing for their sparring session an hour or so earlier, but otherwise, it was a ghost town. The toaster finally finished, the crisp pop and ding of it shutting off startling him in the quiet of the kitchen. He plopped his breakfast onto a plate and checked his watch.

It wouldn't be a ghost town much longer, he would bet. Pulling the cream cheese from the fridge, he settled at the breakfast bar and finished preparing his food as he waited.

“Watch it Cap, Stark's coming in hot,” Clint drawled with an amused tone as he entered the kitchen a moment later.

“You don't say?” Steve asked, unsurprised and dry sounding.

The archer just nodded, looking far too happy as he poured the last of the coffee into a mug.

“Fuck I'm late!” Right on cue Tony entered the space, tie hanging undone around his neck as he fumbled with his cufflinks. “Why does she keep scheduling meetings so early? She knows I'm not a morning person.”

“This wouldn't happen to be the meeting Pepper already rescheduled twice because you keep missing it?” Steve asked, the casualness in his tone giving away that he already knew the answer.

“Maybe,” Tony grumbled as he picked up the empty coffee pot and frowned. “Barton, I'm gonna kill you,” he promised, glaring at the other man's steaming cup of coffee.

In response, Clint deliberately took a slow drink, holding Tony's eye while he did.

“Definitely gonna get you. I swear your next batch of arrows is gonna blow up right in your smug little face,” Tony cursed and made a grab for the nearly full mug.

“Extra coffee for you on the bar,” Steve said, pointing to a thermus he'd filled earlier. “Better hurry, if you don't leave now, you'll be late.”

“Thank you,” Tony nearly moaned and picked up the travel cup.

“Uh-huh,” Steve drawled and held up half of his bagel before Tony could try stealing it from his plate.

“Thanks,” Tony repeated with a sigh, taking it gladly. “Why do you know my schedule better than me?”

“Tony, the hotdog vendor in Central Park knows your schedule better than you do,” Clint piped up with a snort of laughter.

Steve chuckled, and he watched Tony hold the bagel in his mouth as he quickly did his tie. Nimble fingers tugging it into a knot that had no right to be as neat as it was for how fast it had been made.

“I refuse to acknowledge the truth of that,” Tony spoke around a mouth full and held the thermus up towards Steve. “Is it—”

“Cool enough to drink? Yes.” Steve supplied, taking a bite from his remaining half of the bagel.

“You're an angel,” Tony said blissfully. Then he leaned over the bar and pressed a fast but firm kiss to Steve's mouth before rushing out, already calling the elevator via Jarvis before he left the room.

Steve's bagel fell from his lax fingers, plopping back to the plate cream cheese side down.

“Did he just?” Clint asked, looking over at Steve with wide eyes.

“Uh…yeah,” Steve muttered, dumbstruck, his lips tingling from the surprise contact.

“And you guys aren't?”

“Nope.”

The two men stared at each other for a moment in confused silence. Steve felt his cheeks grow hot. Tony, his friend and long-term crush, had just kissed him. Lips warm, soft, and real against his mouth. Clint was giving him a knowing smirk but was thankfully holding his tongue. A moment later, the quiet was broken by the buzzing of Steve’s phone on the counter.

“It's Tony,” he said, looking down at the smiling picture of Tony in his purple sunglasses that was set as the man’s icon. The heat of flush skirted down his neck and settled in his chest.

“Speaker, put him on speaker,” Clint demanded, coming to stand next to his friend.

Swallowing Steve swiped the call open and tapped the speaker function. “Hello?”

“I can't believe I'm even going to ask this but I'm rushed, suffering from a caffeine deficiency, and am severely sleep deprived so the last fifteen minutes are a blur—did I just kiss you?”

“Um, yes?”

Tony said nothing, only the quiet shuffle of him still rushing to his car coming through the phone.

“Hey playboy, this is the part where you ask him out,” Clint supplied, flinching away before Steve could swat him.

“Do you have me on speaker?” Tony questioned, his tight voice sounding more flustered than angry.

“Maybe?” Steve hedged.

“Oh for Christ—” and the line clicked off.

“Wow, if that's how smooth he normally is, I can't imagine how he used to snag all the ladies. Must be the money,” Clint chuckled, picking up his coffee and heading off.

Sighing and shaking his head, Steve poked his sad upside down bagel. Just as he was starting to think it truly had been an accident and meant nothing, his phone buzzed with a text from Tony. Steve smiled as he read it.

‘Free for a lunch date after my meeting?’

Steve started to type out that, yes, he was free when a new message popped up, turning his smile into a joyful grin.

‘And that does not count as our first kiss!!’

#asks #answers #thank you!#writing prompt #prompt fic #stony #stevetony #clint barton #first kiss #fluff #domestic fluff #mother hen #drabble #ficlet #fanfiction #fan fic #writblr

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fulcrumwrites · 3 months

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Prompt 9: Types of Assassins

Assassin characters are one of my favorites, but there are many different ways to write them depending on the setting and story.

• Fantasy: in this genre, assassins are limited to medieval weapons such as knives, swords, crossbows, bows and arrows, etc. They typically wear large cloaks and chainmail and bracers. Maybe will have magic abilities or use charms for protection, stealth, and defense.

• Sci-Fi: use guns and futuristic gadgets. May be skilled pilots or have powers to help them kill their targets.

• Historical: depending on the time period, the assassin may reflect the style, race, beliefs, and weaponry of the time and place.

Once you pick a genre, you get into the specific occupation:

• The Spy: part of a spy organization where targets are determined by the government or higher authorities. It’s part of a mission that has a larger impact on their country or world. They are trained to kill as well as gather intelligence.

• The Bounty Hunter: rogue assassins that kill for the money. They don’t ask questions and will kill whomever you ask as long as you pay upfront. Tend to have little to no morals, at least to start.

• The Apprentice: currently being trained in the art of assassination by a more experienced assassin. May not be very skilled yet, but will eventually surpass the master.

• The Hitman: serves only one person; a general, a monarch, a political figure, etc. What ever they say goes, and they answer to no one else.

• The Living Weapon: brainwashed and trained to kill. Sometimes were kidnapped and tortured. Serves one person or organization. They go when ordered and kill without question.

• The Vigilante: they kill for a cause. Either they or someone else is calling the shots and they kill figures they disagree with.

Then you can get to the deep character specifics:

• Morals: were they forced into the assassin profession or did they choose it? Do they hate killing or do they love it? Are they indifferent to it? Where do they cross the line? Do they change at all in the story?

• Skill: Are they good at their job or are they terrible? Where do they specialize? Do they prefer poison or weapons? Are they clean and thorough or do they leave a mess and a trail?

• Calling Card: Do they leave a symbol or are they a ghost in the night? If so, what is it? Do they have patches, tattoos or brands? Do they have a code name?

• Motivations: Did they become an assassin for money? A thirst for blood? Revenge? Religion? Circumstance? Are they protecting someone? Were they blackmailed? Is it in service for their home?

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quietlyimplode · 22 days

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“The knock at the door was so soft, it was lucky Clint hadn’t taken his hearing aids out.”

with clint & nat please ;)

The knock at the door was so soft, it was lucky Clint hadn’t taken his hearing aids out.

He looked through the hole to find Natasha on the other side.

Enthusiastically, he opens the door with gusto, only to have her fall into his arms.

“Oh shit,” he squeaks out, falling with her to the floor.

“I couldn’t get away,” she mumbles, coughing weakly.

He looks at her, face bruised, eye swollen shut.

His heart drops as wonders just what mission Fury had sent her on.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispers, trying to get her into a sitting position without hurting her.

“I’m here.”

Thanks my friend, what a fun one! Hah. I appreciate your prompts <3

Send a distraction - send a sentence and a pairing and I’ll send five more back. <3

#great prompt #natasha romanoff #clintasha #black widow #clint barton #my fic #hawkeye #natasha romanoff fic #clintasha fanfiction #clintasha fanfic

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siriusly-writes · 6 months

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Give it to me

…pleeaaaaseeeeee

Your a dick

Great… I’m still not giving you the sticker

BUT I ATE MY CARROTS

YOU STABBED MIKE NO STICKER

MIKE DESERVED IT

YES BUT YOU GOT CAUGHT

POV: your trying to rehabilitate a long life child soldier as an ex-child soldier your self

You forgot that you have questionable morals, no childhood to reference and are not qualified for this.

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scavengerssuccotash · 4 months

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Dialogue prompts for gifts the team gave Natasha Romanoff their first Christmas as a team circa 2012.

I provide the prompt you decide the gifts!

Tony:

“You know I’m going to tell Pepper about this right?”

“Oh I’m counting on it Miss Rushman.”

Thor

“I-um thanks? This is unexpectedly sweet!”

“Lady Jane helped me pick it out. On Asgard we have a similar festival called Juul.”

Bruce

“How did you know I knew Latin?”

“Tony told me. It’s the language of science after all.”

Clint

“Is there a reason you’re dragging me away from everyone at the party? I wanted to see what Steve got Tony!”

“He got him a hat. Now close your eyes or you’re going to ruin it!”

Steve

“You do remember that I’m Russian right, well was.”

“Well, I might’ve been under the ice for that one but Bruce said it was a draw!”

Feel free to use for your fics, prompts, fan art!

Have fun!

Oh but tag me because I wanna see what y’all come up with!!

((Single-handedly trying to revive the domestic avengers tower fics with this prompt 😭 (such good times!)))

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frenchfriedgiraffe · 4 months

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week 1: pet

so obviously when given the prompt “pet” i just had to draw the best duo in the history of… everything? what can i say, i love these guys.

thanks again to the legend PT for motivating me to do this (and for the prompts of course)

#hawkeye #clint barton #lucky the pizza dog #hawkeye fanart #potatoes prompts 2024 #my art

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mothman-can-write · 3 months

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hi !!! i saw u said you were open for prompts, i mean this is kinda less of a prompt really, but like i loved that blackhill mission transcript thing you did a while ago and would be really cool to see some more stuff in the same vein ig ! but also maybe something like a kinda blackhill first meeting kinda thing idk !! i just love your work tho ! you really have the ability to make me feel all the emotions

OOOOO i just thought of this whilst writing this but maybe something like with clint teasing nat ab having like feelings for maria or something ?? idk i just love ur writing ! sorry these are kinda shitty hahah

NGL I took this prompt and mangled it in my hands. I heard first meeting and my brain was immediately like well that could go seventeen thousand different ways, so I sorta mashed in Clint's teasing to go along with it and made it a little more suggestive than outright shippy. Realistically, I think if Natasha is only meeting Maria for the first time, she's probably still in a place where she's not totally open to such self indulgent things as having a crush

Also, this isn't a mission transcript but I'd love to do more of them that one was really fun! I just don't really have any good ideas for the sort of things they'd have to talk about in the field besides dying haha

ANYWAY enough rambling, though you're all familiar with my inability to shut up these days. ~3k under the cut of Clint being a ballache and nat being sceptical but gay

The only person that doesn’t treat Natasha like she’s a project – or a live wire – is Clint. He’d had his fair share of looking at her with those careful eyes, something behind them that made her teeth itch in her gums like some trained dog. He doesn’t do that so much anymore, not unless she’s in a particular state and doing a very bad job at hiding it. She likes him, she thinks. He might be one of the first people in her entire life that she can truly say she likes.

Naturally, she finds herself in his quarters more often than her own. She lays on his bed as he works on something probably explosive enough to kill them both if he sneezes, and she ignores the pip of her emails as she braids a small strip of hair under her ear. She’s bored, if she’s honest, but she doesn’t want to waste her first free morning of the past fortnight on something so trivial as emails. Or helping Clint.

“You not gonna answer her?” he says without looking up from his work. He holds it close to his face, something far too small in his tweezers.

Natasha’s fingers pause in untangling her braid. “How do you know who it is?”

He still doesn’t turn in his seat, matter of fact when he speaks. “You have a different tone for Hill.”

“How did you figure that out?” She tries not to scowl at him, but she still isn’t used to feeling so see-through. Quite frankly, she’d like to be as opaque as possible, but she seems to have grown rather attached to someone with x-ray vision.

Clint puts his miniature contraption down and turns to her at last. She’s not fond of the smile on his face as he leans over the back of his chair. “You’re not the only spy on the ship. Also, you weren’t trying very hard to hide it.”

“Her emails are usually more important,” Natasha argues, not quite sure why she feels the need to defend herself on it.

Clint grins ever wider. “I never asked why. I just thought you had a massive crush on her.”

Natasha scowls fully this time. “I’ve never met her.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know what’s in those emails.”

“Shut up.”

She reaches for her phone anyway and pointedly ignores the way Clint watches her. The email is much the same as they always are, telling her about meetings and progress and such. She’s overtly professional in every one, but now that she’s thinking about it, Natasha likes the words she uses – just slightly like she enjoyed reading dictionaries as a child. Very, very rarely, Maria will let something slip in her emails that is almost like humour, and Natasha doesn’t tell Clint that she actually does enjoy receiving emails from her just for the fact that she feels a little special when that happens. She’s heard the rumours; she knows not to expect giggles and grins when it comes to the Assistant Director.

In the end, she doesn’t bother to respond to the email anyway and Clint has already turned back to his work. “Not in the mood to sext her back?”

She scowls at the back of his head. “It sounds like Laura needs to watch her back.”

“Oh, god,” he laughs. “Gross. Absolutely not. Not my type.”

“What makes you think she’s mine?”

“You need someone to match your weirdness.”

Natasha wishes she had something to throw at him. She won’t admit that she intrigues her in small ways. She doubts she’s any different from every other CEO and government lead in the world, but some small part of her feels thankful to her faceless emails. She could’ve easily overridden Clint’s choice, could’ve had her put down before she could even think to beg for forgiveness. But she’d given her a chance, and she’d kept in contact despite her supposed overbooked schedule every day since. Maria held her life in her hands at one point, and she’d given her another shot at it.

Despite everything, Natasha still doesn’t sleep well. Or, rather, because of everything, she supposes. One good month doesn’t erase a lifetime of bad – and she’s really a little hesitant to say that this month has even been good in many senses of the word. She wonders if the nights will ever get easier on her with time, or if she’s stuck with these hours of restlessness and sweat for the rest of her life. It’s not a nice thing to think about, and it doesn’t really do all that much to distract her from the shadows that still play behind her eyelids or the way the shapes of the room still seem to swim around the edges. So, she swings her legs over the side of her bed and scrubs at her face with her hands. She can appreciate, at the very least, that she isn’t handcuffed to her bed here. Somehow, that had been a hard thing to get used to. She still sleeps with one arm by the headboard.

There aren't many things to do at this hour. Clint has told her countless times that she’s perfectly welcome to pester him at any time of the night if it would make her feel even minutely better. He says he understands, and she believes him enough from the way his past lines his own face, but it doesn’t make it any easier to put into practice.

She doesn’t have a plan as she steps out into the corridors. She dresses like she’s going to the gym on the off chance that she might be able to sneak into it and punch something until she’s sweaty for reasons more tangible. She wishes the firing range was usable at this hour, but she’s sure that’s much less subtle. Still, there are some nightmares you can only really feel better by shooting at. Maybe she’ll bat her eyelashes into an hour or so at the targets tomorrow.

She passes the odd agent as she trails around the corridors and considers that the ship never really sleeps entirely. There’s always someone on the night shift, always someone pottering around with something. She thinks it would be nice to work when it’s so quiet. Maybe she should ask about changing her hours. It might be a little soon.

The gym isn’t so far from her quarters, and by the time she reaches it her shirt still feels sticky at her back and her stomach still feels like it’s alive in her ribcage. Her hopes are low enough to limbo as she presses her hand to the door, and she could almost sigh with relief when the door opens easily. She’s not against breaking in, but she likes to think she’s been doing a pretty good job of building a better reputation lately. Maybe not socially, but Maria’s emails haven’t managed to sound short lately – not since the last time she’d bypassed what she maintains was a criminally simple encryption on one of Clint’s jobs.

The gym is utterly silent at this time of the morning, which is entirely unsurprising. She doubts anyone else sensible gets out of bed for another hour or two, let alone starts their training regime. Generally, agents are allowed the privilege of breakfast before they’re worked to the bone. Natasha’s never been a fan of food so early in the morning.

She doesn’t really know when she fell out of the habit of scanning each room on this ship like someone will be waiting to haul her out of it, and she blames it firmly on her lack of sleep and nightmare slurred thoughts when she doesn’t notice the other body in the gym until it’s too late.

“I did wonder,” someone says, and Natasha’s attention snaps to one of the benches on the far side, half covered from the entrance.

It takes Natasha an almost embarrassingly drawn out moment to place her features, and she’s sure she only half succeeds in hiding her surprise into an intrigued eyebrow. The Assistant Director didn’t really strike her as the type to be in the gym when everyone is supposed to be sleeping.

“Wonder what?” she asks instead of every other question that gnaws at her head. She stays firmly planted in the middle of the room.

“Who would come in at this time.”

Oh. She’s not wondering about Natasha. She doesn’t really know what that feels a mote disappointing. She hates it when Clint asks how she’s sleeping. Maybe she just doesn’t like lying to him.

“I thought it would be empty.”

Maria places her water bottle beside her on the bench and makes absolutely no move to stand up yet. Somehow, Natasha finds it unnerving, even if she’s taller here. “It usually is,” she says simply.

Her eyes bore into her in a way that makes the back of her neck crawl. Something about her says that she’s calculating, that she’s looking at Natasha and breaking her down into little bite sized pieces. Natasha has never liked being dissected. Maria’s eyes are very blue.

“Do you usually spend your mornings here?” she asks, if only to stop Maria from burning holes into her skull and reading her thoughts directly.

It works, in the way that her gaze flicks away for the briefest moment before pinning her again in that same cool tone. “I guess you could call this morning.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Maria’s eyes soften ever so slightly around the corners, and Natasha would almost call it a squint. “I’ve made a bit of a habit at this point, yes.”

She almost seems reluctant to admit it, and Natasha can’t help the way she wants to pick this woman apart. She has always liked puzzles, and people are just some of the more complex the world has to offer. She thinks she understands the rumours a little more now, even through this uncanny meeting. She wonders if Maria feels her own searching gaze as intently.

Maria stands at last, and Natasha had almost forgotten how tall she is. She thinks she preferred it when she was sitting. “Don’t let me stop you,” she says, and Natasha is silently thankful for the way that answers her question. Again, not that she wouldn’t break the rules. It’s just much harder to make an excuse when the Assistant Director is the one who catches you.

“I would’ve expected the AD to send me back to my quarters,” she notes, as forward as ever when it gets her information. She’ll admit this woman seems to be intriguing. She’s curious as to just why she’s indulging her so far.

Maria’s expressions are all very small, mere suggestions of emotions that only make Natasha want to pick her apart. “That would make me more of a hypocrite than I already am,” she says simply, almost smiling. “Are you getting on okay?” she asks instead , and her eyes are on her like she’s deciphering her again. She’s closer now, making direct eye contact, and Natasha holds it like a game. “Besides the obvious, of course.”

Natasha tries not to scowl. God, does she hate when people pretend like they know her. “What’s the obvious?”

Maria raises one eyebrow ever so slightly, her expression caught somewhere to amusement. “Did the Red Room have you in the routine of training at four in the morning?”

“Sometimes.” They both know that’s not the reason that she’s here, as much as Natasha wishes Maria didn’t.

Her eyes are almost soft. Almost like she truly cares about her. Natasha doesn’t like to let herself believe the sort of things that might cost her later. “Half of the people on this ship struggle with it, Romanoff,” she says, nearly gentle in the silence around them. “You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”

She can almost imagine her setting a heavy hand on her shoulder as she says it, though Maria remains in her own space. She’s still slightly too close for what Natasha is used to however, and it’s the first time she realises the darkness under her eyes. Her face is lined, something bone deep that she doubts ever goes away. It lends her a certain sort of…imperfection that makes her seem a whole lot more human. For everything she’s heard, though she knows to take gossip with a healthy grain of salt, she could almost imagine Hill to be some sort of robot, some living excel sheet.

Standing in front of her, she sort of just looks like a woman who could do with some sleep. She looks like a woman who has spent the last who-knows-how-many hours beating out her own past the same way Natasha intends to. She won’t call it affection. It doesn’t mean Natasha likes the way she looks straight through her any more.

“You have any tips?” she says, aiming for something playful. She really, really just wants her to stop looking at her like she can figure her out right here in the middle of the room. Maybe if she seems better than she is, she’ll leave her alone. She’d rather her conduct a genuine vivisection out on the boxing ring floor if she’s going to continue to examine her.

She’s certain Maria almost smiles at that, a tug at the corner of her lips that is almost sad, almost conspirational. She shrugs ever so slightly. “Shooting things usually helps.”

Natasha tries not to scowl like a child. As if she wouldn’t be there right now if she could get away with it. “I’m on supervised arms training.”

This time, Maria does smile, though Natasha thinks she’d have missed it if she blinked. “Not from tomorrow,” she says plainly, and Natasha can only watch her walk away without another word.

The door closes behind her, and Natasha lets herself furrow her eyebrows as deeply as she likes. She is overtly aware that she is not being let off of supervised training tomorrow. She’s aware that she has been seen as a weapon and an explosive since the moment Clint forgot that he was meant to shoot her. Somehow, she doesn’t think that Maria is one to tease.

It makes it very hard to punch things as effectively as she’d like to when she can only think after Maria. She wonders what keeps her up at night. She wonders what else she does to get rid of the shadows. She wonders why on earth she would let her off of the hook so early. For all they know, Natasha might decide to defect back. She might’ve been biding her time until she could get a hand on one of those guns outside of the range. She’d never even dream of it, of course. She’d rather be supervised for every split second a gun is in her hands for the rest of her life than have to go back to her life before. She wonders just how deep Maria managed to dig. She wonders if she really is all that transparent after all.

She finds herself in Clint’s quarters again as thoughtlessly as breathing. Every spare minute in her schedule that lines up with his, she’ll spend hiding from the rest of the world. This time, she’s sitting in his chair, her knees resting against the edge of his desk so that she can spin it slightly from side to side. Clint is behind her in his bunk, his arms tucked up behind his head and his eyes closed. It’s only 2pm. Natasha wishes she could have a nap too.

“Is she always like that?” she says on a whim, her thoughts still stuck on tired eyes and snap decisions.

“Like what?” Clint asks, completely brushing over her lack of context.

“So…intense.”

“Ah, we’re back on Hill. Yes.” He falls silent again, and Natasha listens to his breath. “Hold on.” His eyes open and his head turns on his pillow to face her. “Did you meet her? When?”

“This morning.”

“You were at the range this morning.”

“Before that.”

“You were asleep before that.” She doesn’t answer, and that tells him everything in as little effort as possible. “Natasha.”

She doesn’t meet his eye. “It’s better than moping.”

“You don’t need to mope. You can come wake me up.”

“But then you don’t sleep.”

“Tasha, do you really think I’m sleeping well either half the time?”

She stays silent again, staring intently at the dimples Clint’s chair has made in the carpet.

“How did you even find her?” he asks eventually, giving up the argument for the countless time. “She’s practically booked to the minute.”

“She was in the gym when I got there.”

“I’m going to skip over the fact that you’d rather punch something until you bleed than come and bug me. Was it worth it? Was she all sweaty and hot? Did you two finally canoodle in person?”

She doesn’t dignify his jokes with a response, her thoughts plain in her expression. “I don’t think she sleeps well either. She looked tired.”

Clint grins a little. “You paying attention to her face?”

Natasha scowls at him. “It’s normal to look someone in the eye.”

“Mhm…” He retucks his arms under his head, settling back against his pillow. “It’s for sure normal to think about them all morning.”

“She took me off of probation,” she says, almost in a rush, like maybe this will change the subject – maybe a little bit like she’s admitting something.

“Oh you definitely have a crush on her. It’s like she’s trying to get in your pants. Remind me never to read your emails.”

Natasha only squints at him, wishing once again that she had something appropriate to throw. The urge distracts her enough that she never does reject the notion. And when she finds herself imagining Maria’s secret little smile in those few and far casual emails, she decides that Clint doesn’t need to know. She’s not been given many chances in her life, and she thinks she could make space in her life for two instead of one. She wonders if Maria would ever want a gym buddy on long nights and promptly decides not to think any deeper into it.

#words #tumblr exclusive #prompts #blackhill #natasha romanoff #maria hill #clint barton

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oldfangirl81 · 6 months

Text

Clint stared but nobody would meet his eyes.

"Pretty sure I didn't give anyone permission to touch my bow."

"It wasn't us!" said Bruce, Steve & Tony.

"You double dared me!" Came Darcy's voice from behind Steve.

Clint pinched the bridge of nose. "I should have figured it was you."

#fic prompt #look i saw this image and instantly thought hawkeye #but he wouldn't miss #incorrect marvel quotes #clint barton #darcy lewis #the avengers

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sunnysideprincess · 1 year

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Prompt:

• Natasha AlianovaRomanoff Stark is trying to keep her baby brother safe. That's proven to be a difficult task, considering Tony's habit of running head first into trouble.

• Bucky knows Nat's brother is off limits. It's why Steve hasn't made a move—they all remember Tiberus Stone and his walk of shame. But a couple of drinks in, and the loud music of his favorite club, he wakes up next to Tony Stark. He doesn't even like the kid!

• Steve knows he's a no good, no name "crook". Doesn't help that Nat's dangerously protective. Doesn't help he's the leader of a masked vigilante group. Yet he can't stop loving Tony. Can't stop meeting him at their favorite café for late night snacks and caffeine fueled talks.

• The game is over. Nat has caught James in Tony's bed and is dead set on killing him. But wait! "We're not just fooling around, Nat. We're together!" Tony saves the day at the last moment. So of course, they have to fake date now.

• Stevie's heartbroken, Bucky's getting shovel talks left and right, and there's someone out there hunting the young Stark heir. Worse, he thinks he might be actually liking the guy he's fake dating to stay alive.

• No one knows this—Tony Stark has been in love with both Brooklyn boys since he first met them. So this might just be a golden opportunity for Tony to get his love life in order. He's gonna need help though. And who better to get the ball rolling than Nat's on and off boyfriend, Clint Barton!

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