#clint centric

[mildly-concerning]

I make no promises.... but teen!Avengers time-locked in an apocalyptic city? might include ironhawk and stucky.... and I might have started it already.... idk if ill make it a full fic but.... it seems promising.....

[themculibrary]

Clint Barton-Centric Masterlist

Links Last Checked: May 23rd, 2024

Clint Barton: Certified Matchmaker (ao3) - pquill steve/bucky N/R, 5k

Summary: Clint was absolutely, positively fed up. And he had good reason to be, too.

He was sitting at the dining table of the Avengers' communal kitchen, nursing a novelty mug that may or may not have contained upwards of four shots of coffee. That extra caffeine was well earned, in his opinion, because before him stood the two most oblivious creatures Clint had ever had the misfortune of knowing. The pair were giggling like schoolgirls as they made Sunday's breakfast, blissfully unaware of the world around them.

Clint scoffed as he took a sip of the pitch black liquid. Despite the fact that his coffee cup had 'drama queen' emblazoned on the side, he was sure he was being perfectly reasonable in saying that the only person more laughably senseless than Bucky Barnes was Steve Rogers. Together; disaster.

OR, five times Clint plotted to get Steve and Bucky together, and one time he didn't have to.

Everything You Say (Sounds Like Gospel) (ao3) - enigma731 clint/natasha G, 3k

Summary: Clint thinks he probably shouldn’t be surprised by anything after having his mind hijacked by a god, saving the world from actual aliens, and eating lunch across from Tony Stark. But even after all of that, he still isn’t expecting Captain America to visit him in the hospital.

Five Times Clint Saw His Teammates, and One Time They Saw Him (ao3) - rohanrider3 clint/natasha T, 15k

Summary: Everyone runs on something. Clint is better than most at seeing at what that is.

And people--especially the Avengers--are full of surprises.

Or, don't underestimate the "least powerful" team member just because he fights evil with snark and a weapon from the paleolithic era.

I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning (ao3) - CloudAtlas clint/natasha, kate/america M, 106k

Summary: The Life and Times of Clint Barton: Medical Student.

Like an Arrow Through a Flock of Doves (ao3) - arsenicarcher (Arsenic), hoosierbitch clint/phil E, 62k

Summary: When he takes the rap for a crime committed by Barney and the Swordsman, Clint is charged as an adult at 17 and spends the next four years of his life without protection in prison. Enter one Neal Caffrey, who knows how to charm his way to whatever he wants or needs, and Clint's life gets a lot more interesting. Pretty much, the story of Clint in prison, Clint getting out, and Clint, like always, finding his way to SHIELD, and Phil.

(Never Gonna) See You Again (ao3) - Batfink bucky/clint T, 3k

Summary: When Clint agrees to return to the Avengers fold, little does he realise he is being set up by Natasha with a certain other former russain assassin.

Remember, I loved you (ao3) - spectralarchers harold/edith T, 50k

Summary: We all know Clint Barton. That Avenger who always has something funny to say, and who never misses a clue. Hawkeye, they call him. And for good reason. But, what we don't know is where he came from, how he became the marksman he is today. Where did it start? How did it happen? Who were the people who made him who he is?

Six Feet Underground (ao3) - shatteredhourglass clint/phil/natasha T, 20k

Summary: It's hard to bounce back from watching someone you love die in front of your eyes.

Slow Growth Investment (ao3) - arsenicarcher (Arsenic) bucky/clint/steve E, 37k

Summary: Left at the hospital, injured and penniless, Clint tries to find his way to another circus, or some other means of supporting himself, but makes a few decisions that end up costing him. He's pretty much given up on ever making something of his life when he's in the wrong place at the wrong time, witness to an assassination. As it turns out, that's the best luck he's had in years. (Alternately, for those of you who know what this refers to: the obligatory hooker AU.)

Teach You to Fly (before you fall) (ao3) - WithTheKeyIsKing clint/everyone G, 3k

Summary: Set in a world where when you fall in love, the person you love's Soulmark appears on your skin.

Clint Barton falls in love way too easily. His skin is littered with other people's marks, all of them unreturned (or so he thinks)

The One With The Damn Zip Ties (ao3) - MillyVeil T, 26k

Summary: Clint's hands are tied behind him and there's nothing he can do to stop them from dragging him to the center of the room and wrestling him onto his back. The bottle appears in his field of vision and despite his best attempt to stay calm, his drugged up brain goes straight to white-out fucking panic, because water and being held down is a combo he's experienced before.

The Only Guy Steve Knows Who Lives In Brooklyn (ao3) - Beans (provetheworst) clint/natasha T, 27k

Summary: Clint’s the only guy Steve knows who lives in Brooklyn, which is probably why the Winter Soldier starts hanging around his apartment. Clint has had worse houseguests, but even that doesn’t explain how he ends up on a thirty three hour flight to Madripoor trying to save the guy Captain America’s probably in love with from mad scientists.

The Other Man Out Of Time (ao3) - sara_holmes bucky/clint G, 97k

Summary: Also known as Time Travelling Clint Wrecks the Universe.

Due to The Time Stone having a great day screwing around the fabric of reality, Clint finds a copy of himself thrown back into Normandy, 1944. Cue Clint 2.0 meeting Bucky Barnes, the Howling Commandos and a pretty different version of Steve.

The War That I Can't Win (ao3) - enigma731 clint/natasha M, 9k

Summary: Clint knows it’s bad when he wakes to the familiar yellow ceiling tiles and antiseptic scent of Medical and no recollection of getting here.

“You have a head injury,” says the doctor, who looks like the kind of medical cookie-cutter clone he’s started to suspect S.H.I.E.L.D. grows in tanks somewhere down in the basement. “You were unconscious for nearly twelve hours. You also have three broken ribs and a broken collarbone. I think it’s safe to say that you’ll be in this room for a while.”

This Means War (ao3) - wonker8 clint/everyone T, 40k

Summary: Wherein Clint's rather oblivious to his teammates' (and others') advances, and a war is started for his affections.

We'll Haunt This Place (The Two of Us) (ao3) - ElloPoppet clint/steve, past clint/phil, sam/bucky E, 25k

Summary: Huh. Captain America showing up at his farm unannounced in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon with a suitcase. Somehow, not the strangest thing to ever happen to Clint. Not even the strangest way he had been woken from a nap, honestly.

What the Deep Heart Means (ao3) - unpossible clint/phil E, 40k

Summary: Clint doesn’t want to go out. Doesn’t want to make conversation, doesn’t even want to eat. But he can’t show any of that, not if he doesn’t want to be rendered inactive by the psychs. Being useful is all he has left.

What he does want, mostly, is to be taken out back like Old Yeller. But that isn’t an option. He doesn’t get the easy way out.

Valerian (ao3) - harcourt bruce/clint N/R, 4k

Summary: Written for this prompt, where Bruce starts to find Clint asleep in his room when he de-Hulks and is afraid he'll get smashed.

Clint has a sleep problem, but not a Hulk problem, even though Bruce thinks he should have a Hulk problem.

Bruce has a Hulk problem and a memory problem and a sleep problem. Or rather, a what the heck does Clint think he's doing when Bruce is asleep problem.

[tonystarktogo]

Bitter Sunday prompt: Team Freeloader seeing that Tony Stark doesn't need them when they get back and yet they need him. But he's all out of fucks to give about them.

For some reason I feel like I keep being the hardest on Clint in these bitter posts and showing more understanding/regret/etc from Natasha and Steve, so I figured I’d mix it up and start this one with him. Because I genuinely like all the characters, I’m just very unhappy with some of their choices (and obviously Tony is my favourite and I’m by no means unbiased).

When Clint first gets off the plane back in his birth country he isn’t happy like he’s envisioned himself being for months. He’s dreamed so many times of this moment, but now that it is actually happening, there’s no relief. No excitement.

Only–he’s not sure what’s left or how to call it but it feels empty.

Seeing his family again goes not at all and exactly like he thought it would. Laura slaps him, though she’s crying to hard for it to truly hurt. Unlike when she twists away from him, avoids his touch, because that. That won’t ever not hurt. Lila is smiling at him, a tiny thing, like she’s not supposed to but can’t help herself. She’s clinging to Cooper’s hand, who’s glaring darkly in a not at all encouraging way. And there’s Nathaniel, the son that doesn’t even know him, just pats his mother’s cheek awkwardly in an attempt to stop her tears and–

Clint isn’t ashamed to say he flees. He doesn’t know what to do or say to make this better and he just…takes the easy way out. He moves back into the compound, away from the family he doesn’t quite know, only it’s not the same.

The compound has always been his home away from home, sometimes perhaps more so than it should have been. It’s different now though, hasn’t been the same since their return. At first Clint assumes he’s simply remembering things better than they actually were. With how often he’s been lying in Wakanda’s ridiculously idyllic gardens, dreaming of this place, it’s entirely possible after all.

Besides a lot of the things he notices in the beginning are small, easily forgotten. They just begin to pile up after a while.

Like the way Clint can’t remember the water ever having turned cold on him before–but maybe he’s just never showered long enough? Or the way their fridge ends up being empty more often than not and how their laundry just keeps piling up until Sam snaps and declares Saturday laundry day–and you better be there or else.

Then there is their battle gear. It’s starts with the clothes, which are good quality and the right size. But. They aren’t great quality and they aren’t tailored. And Clint wouldn’t have noticed this a few short years back, but now he does. Now he knows how it could be. Knows that the material doesn’t have to stick to his skin quite as uncomfortable, doesn’t have to limit his mobility just a slightest bit. It goes on with his weapons. The knifes that are decent but not perfectly designed for the kind of throwing he prefers. The arrows that are just arrows, are replaced after every fight but don’t suddenly appear out of thin air–and that is something Clint remembers well, the excitement when he used a new kind of arrow, uncertain of what to expect, the thrill of all the new possibilities once he realises what their purpose is–and he misses it.

The first time they’re out in the field again, they almost get killed. Sam is in the hospital for three weeks, Clint only barely escapes with a broken arm and a concussion. It’s not because they’ve forgotten how to fight, it’s because they’ve made a terrible, idiotic mistake that Clint wants to hit himself for even months later. 

Because for some inexplicable reason it hadn’t occurred to any of them that Iron Man wouldn’t join them. (He hadn’t been called on, they later learn, because the threat hadn’t been deemed that dangerous–and it wouldn’t have been, if only they had adjusted their strategy accordingly.)

The training Steve puts them through after that episode is rigorous but nobody dares to complain. And it doesn’t happen again, not on that grade, but Clint is a decent agent, he recognises that their efficiency isn’t what it was. He recognises what–who–is missing.

He finds himself watching Stark on TV sometimes now, during reports of attacks they haven’t been called in to handle–Stark’s not alone, Clint notices, and can’t put his finger on why that bothers him–interviews, even gossip channels. He doesn’t know why. Doesn’t know when he’s stopped hurling insults designed to hurt at the screen, just that he did. 

It takes Clint three months to admit to himself that he misses Tony Stark. He doesn’t say it out loud, isn’t sure he ever will. He never asks the others about their thoughts on the billionaire either, though it’s no secret that Steve has been trying to patch things up–and has been insistently rebuffed with a polite distance Clint wouldn’t have believed Stark capable of if he hadn’t witnessed it with his own eyes.

He doesn’t reach out, doesn’t call the man. He could, he supposes, though the thought of having to apologise for some of the things he’s said in anger leaves a stale taste on his tongue. Clint has never been good at apologies. He’s much preferred that silent understanding he used to share with Tony–and maybe that’s part of the problem.

Either way it doesn’t matter because Stark is so far removed from them now, it’s hard to imagine they’ll ever be reunited again. He’s there occasionally, during battles, but they never even hear his voice, it’s always just FRIDAY on the comms. And contrary to Steve Clint can take a fucking hint. He isn’t going to run after the other man, he doesn’t want to.

Really.

And if he occasionally finds himself glaring at the TV where Stark and a masked Spiderman exchange jokes in front of the excited reporters, well, it’s not like he’s jealous or something. That would just be stupid.

It takes another thirteen weeks for Clint to admit to himself that the things he misses most about Stark aren’t the nice things he gave them, the money or the way he always seemed to know how to redirect the presses’ attention in a way that benefitted them. 

It’s the way Stark used to join him in the kitchen at ass crack in the morning sometimes, hand him a cup of hot chocolate and stare silently into nothingness, just to keep Clint company. It’s the way they used to watch Gilmore Girls together and constantly make references to the show, just to confuse Steve and piss him off. It’s the way Stark nodded off against Clint’s shoulder sometimes, after a particularly exhausting day, like he hadn’t been mind-controlled by a psychotic alien mere weeks ago.

Not that it matters anymore, now.

Staring unblinkingly at his ringing phone showcasing Laura’s number that Clint can’t bring himself to answer, he bitterly wonders to himself if maybe that’s why he was always going to follow Steve’s call at the drop of a hat–because he’s always been better at running rather than staying.

I’m not sure this is what you had in mind but I tried my best. The focus was supposed to be Clint’s friendship with Tony rather than the fallout from the Accords, and then things just got completely out of control *shrug*

[themculibrary]

hi!!! can you guys link any clint-centric fanfics?

Bruises On Your Thighs (Like My Fingerprints) (ao3) - RedTeamShark clint/brock E, 44k

Summary: “Nothing gets an Omega compliant like a little family to look out for, Rumlow. If you can flip an Avenger to our side, there’s a bright future for you and him.”

--

It's nothing but another mission for Brock Rumlow, S.H.I.E.L.D. S.T.R.I.K.E. Commander and undercover Hydra agent. Clint Barton is a target, an objective, an Omega that the Alpha need only manipulate into sex. It's a success as soon as he steps into the room, even if he keeps finding reasons to not just hold the heat-rattled Omega down and force him to take his knot. Nothing Barton could do would change the outcome of this. Nothing.

Easiest Way To Go Is Up (ao3) - WriteThroughTheNight clint/phil T, 12k

Summary: Clint Barton is the Avengers' token human. But Clint Barton is not human, not fully at least.

OR

The one where Clint has wings, and no one knows.

Heat (ao3) - Ryoko21 multi pairings E, 95k

Summary: Clint was a badass. He was an assassin, a killer, a terrorist, and an archer. But he was also an omega. And as long as his organization kept control of the suppressants that kept him from going in to heat, he’d keep doing whatever they asked. No matter how distasteful he found it, or how little of his soul was left at the end.

But when Clint is injected with heat inducers, rendering his suppressants useless, can SHIELD's top agents save the archer before he goes mad?

Mokusatsu (ao3) - shadesfalcon bucky/clint/steve, background sam/natasha E, 125k

Summary: Clint Barton has been strung along from abusive relationship to abusive relationship all his life. Not that he would use the word “abusive”. He would argue that, as a sub, he was born to take whatever it is his dom feels like throwing at him.

But even with that attitude, he’s nervous about his current situation. Trapped in a bureaucratically mandated relationship with not one but two doms is going to be difficult and dangerous. Especially since these two doms are both members of the Avengers themselves.

He hopes that whenever he disappoints them, they’ll have at least a little pity on him, even though he knows he won’t deserve it.

What the Deep Heart Means (ao3) - unpossible clint/phil, clint/omc E, 54k

Summary: Clint doesn’t want to go out. Doesn’t want to make conversation, doesn’t even want to eat. But he can’t show any of that, not if he doesn’t want to be rendered inactive by the psychs. Being useful is all he has left.

What he does want, mostly, is to be taken out back like Old Yeller. But that isn’t an option. He doesn’t get the easy way out.

- Tori

[winterhawkkisses]

[No number because no Bucky; this was more an experiment with the ‘cold turkey writer’ program, which won’t let you access anything until a time/word limit has passed. I kinda like it...]

It's not the kind of neighbourhood for it, and maybe that's why it works so well; there're no green and white competitors, no disposable cups, just the unmatched rickety tables on the sidewalk and the gentle scent of roasting beans.

Clint bought the building without much of a plan in mind for it, save that he wanted things to carry on as they were. He paid a hell of a lot more money for it that it was worth, but what else would he have done with it? Coulda donated it to charity, maybe, but charity starts at home, and half the tenants would've struggled to find somewhere new. So he'd laid out practically everything he'd had, and he'd watched a bunch of online tutorials that told him how to fix door locks and unblock drains, and he'd tried to be on the useful side of the landlord continuum, when time allowed.

Time didn't always allow, of course, 'cos whatever else Clint might be he was an Avenger, and sometimes it'd be weeks at a time before he managed to make his slow and painful way back to Bed-Stuy.

One of those times, battered and worn, he'd had to check three times to make sure he'd got the right place. When he'd left, the storefront on the ground floor of his building had been empty. Rusting shutters, shitty graffiti, cracked sidewalk with determined weeds; it'd been something he'd vaguely intended to do something about, but it was near the bottom of a hell of a long list. So it'd been kind of a surprise to return to this.

They'd been busy. It was clean, for a start, the windows glinting in the struggling springtime sun. There was a striped awning over the door and the shop's name stencilled onto the glass: Has Beans, which made him grin a little painfully around his bruises. Clint pushed open the door, noting the cheerful little tinkle of some of the chimes Hen braided together and kept trying to sell, Aimee's artwork displayed proudly along the walls. Marco was standing behind the counter, grinning wide and pearly, his dreads tied back with a bandanna that matched a couple of the cushions scattered around the various chairs.

"Hey, Clint," he said, deep and slow, and for all that he'd never seen this place before Clint'd never felt so at home. (Especially when he got a lumpy hand-made mug full of coffee pushed into his bandage-wrapped hands.)

Tony had, naturally, given him a room in his tower; a suite, actually, complete with ridiculously well-equipped range. Clint spent more and more time in his building, though. Bought himself a tool-belt. Fished another action figure out of a u-bend as he whistled tunelessly through his teeth. And most days he ended up curled into a threadbare armchair with a good vantage point on the shop, coffee mug held close to his face so he could breathe it all in.

Some things, of course, there was no avoiding. He got dragged back into it without chance of refusal for a while - Tasha was trying to hold the fort pretty much on her own, while Cap went off looking for some old army buddy with murder on his mind. Clint slid back into the space left for him without much difficulty - run and duck and draw and release - and only occasionally thought longingly of warm-lit coffee shops and a couch that was worn just exactly into his shape.

He was thinking about deep, rich, caffeine-carrying goodness and idly shooting DoomBots, one Wednesday, perched on the cold iron of an ancient fire escape and hoping it'd continue to hold up to his weight. Tony had been persuaded in for this one, which Clint was pretty sure was because he was avoiding some kinda fancy dance; he swept across the sky and rained tiny fragments of exploded robots in his wake. At ground level, Tasha was holding her own, and Clint sent an exploding arrow into a cluster of 'bots heading her way more to hear her curse than anything else.

"So is there a point to this?" Clint asked, narrowing his eyes and picking out his next three targets. "I mean, nefarious plan, or just Doom being Doom?"

"There seems to be some crazy notion that we're weaker without the Capsicle," Tony said, grin audible in his voice. "At which, frankly, I take offence. I managed before he melted, I can do just fine now."

"Geez, Stark," a new voice cut in, "and here I was hoping that you'd missed me."

Clint grinned as the words were backed up with the familiar echoing clang of a vibranium shield finding its mark, loud enough and pitched just right to overcome the muffling that came from sacrificing one of his aids for use as a comm.

"You said there'd be tears," another voice added, wryly amused, and Clint watched in awe and not a little envy as a guy with freakin' robot wings swooped onto the scene. "Tearful reunions and a ticker-tape parade."

"I can probably manage a confetti arrow," Clint said, "and a tiny flag that says 'yay!'"

"...Confetti arrow?" Tasha said dryly, over comms, sounding barely out of breath.

"Someday that confetti arrow's gonna save your life," Clint told her, "and you're gonna regret ever making fun -"

"I will never regret mocking you, Hawkeye," she said, and even without seeing her face he knew exactly the smirk.

"Good to have you back, Cap," Tony said, awkward but genuine, and Clint couldn't help but wonder a little at the warmth in Cap's voice when he replied.

"It's good to see you, Tony."

"So where's the assassin?" Clint asked. The DoomBots appeared to have lost any sense of purpose, with the arrival of Captain America, and were mostly straggling off the scene; Clint took one out with a carefully placed arrow and caused an incredibly pleasing chain reaction of metallic carnage. Man, he loved his job.

"Bucky's back at the tower," Steve said. He sounded kinda subdued. "He's - we're giving him some time."

The layers of meaning under the surface, there, sounded all kinds of exhausting; Clint resolved to head homewards for coffee, instead.

[capriciouswrites]

Drunk fic! If you finished Daredevil (I can't remember lol oops) then Matt/Claire + first real date. If not, Kate Bishop + cooking attempt in Clint's apartment. (Or both in one? lolz)

I didn’t, actually, finish it. Though I still intend to. (I’m so bad at keeping up to date on shows. Like, almost entertainingly bad.) I’m doing the second and this is in an AU movie ‘verse because I said so. Clint!centric

“Is that supposed to be on fire?” is the first thing Natasha signs when she walks through the door.

Clint blinks slowly, his coffee hasn’t kicked in yet despite the fact that it’s six in the evening, and turns his head to see flame coming from his stove. He suspects it’s probably making some noise, but since his last run in with a series of bombs killed his hearing aids he can’t even hear a hint of it. At some point he’s going to want to talk to Tony about making new ones – he’d thought the SHIELD ones were small, but Tony’s had been basically a sticker. Damned impressive. Even if Pietro had managed to rip one off as he ran by one of those times. Little bastard.

Natasha ruffles his hair as she goes back. Which is – if he doesn’t trust Kate at a stove (and apparently he shouldn’t) he definitely doesn’t trust Natasha cooking for them.

Which isn’t to say she’s bad at it – he’s not entirely sure, she’s probably amazing at it because he can count on one hand with fingers left over the number of things Natasha isn’t amazing at (points to paranoid cold war planning, he guesses) but because she might put hot sauce in a donut or something just for entertainment value.

It takes him a few minutes to locate his computer – his Stark phone died when he accidentally through it at a mob member (knocked the dude right out though, which gives it huge bonus points) so he’s using an old Nokia that he thinks he might’ve gotten when he was fourteen originally. (He could definitely kill a man by throwing the Nokia at them – it’s roughly the weight of a brick.) Once he’s got his computer he orders a pizza.

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have cash, but that tends to be the sort of thing Kate can figure out. Or Nat can just convince the guy to give them the pizza for free. (It’s only happened once and Clint had promptly proposed.)

By the time he turns back to the kitchen the flame has died down. There aren’t flashing lights so, somehow, the fire alarm hasn’t gone off. That probably means it’s dead and he should fix it, but mostly he’s relieved he’s not going to have to deal with fireman.

Nat and Kate have their heads bent closely together, turned away so he can’t see their lips.

He turns back to the computer and offers a 20% bonus if the pizza comes in the next ten minutes.

[haforcere]

As a supervillainsupercriminal contract worker with a morality deficit, Clint Barton leads a glamorous life. You know, stolen cars, dangerous women, a really confusing relationship with a meddling do-gooder, the works. It's pretty awesome. Except for, uh, medical bills, the mob, and being on the run all the time. That part isn't all that awesome.

(A supervillain AU where Clint shoots arrows at people and gets beat up a lot. So, not really that much of an AU.)

FIC REC!

AU where Clint, Bucky, Kate, Natasha and Lucky the Pizza Dog are criminals  CONTRACTORS, OK.

WiP, but I loaded this to my ipod to read on the way home from work, and it's amazing. The Clint voice, the dysfunctionality and socially awkward mis-speaks! Barney! Danvers and the way she has had it up to here, but can't quite manage to arrest anyone.

It's well put together and beautifully written and it's definitely up there in the best fic I have read in this fandom category. Wonderful balance where everything is a trainwreck and you feel a lot for Clint, but also want to laugh at his life.