ATTF: Three Sentence Fics

[inkvoices]

Hi All and welcome to the revitalised All The Things Friday! ATTFs are party posts that we kick off on a Friday and last the whole weekend, sometimes even longer if they're a challenge or if we're just having so much fun that we want to keep going. For more info on ATTFs, to see what we have coming up, and to sign up to do these party posts - which we really need people to do if you want ATTFs, hint hint! - please click on this link.

Okay, so this week, due to popular demand, is THREE SENTENCE FIC TIME!

Here's how this works: comment to this post with a prompt. As many times as you like. People can then fill those prompts, but only with fics that are three sentences long. Which is not to say that you can't get creative with what those three sentences look like, or write more than one three sentence fic installment, but sometimes the challenge of fitting a lot into a small space can be fun. You can fill as many prompts as you like, the same prompt can be filled multiple times, and you can even write three sentence fills in response to other people's fills to create round robin or chain fics. We're open to creativity, but the aim of the game is three sentences.

The usual community rules apply and the usual community theme - which is that we love all things Natasha and Clint, with each other, other people, threesomes, in gen fic, you know the drill.

PARTY TIME! Happy Friday :)


Things to remember:
1) Always label NSFW (Not Safe For Work) stuff in the title and post under a cut.
2) Fic and artwork needs to have a rating and warnings (or you can say that you’ve chosen not to use warnings).
3) For people with annoying internet connections, say in the title if a comment is graphic/images/gif-heavy and post picspams under a cut.
4) Have a damn good time! (Because if that’s not happening then this post has clearly failed.)

Comments

[kiss-me-cassie.livejournal.com]

WHOOHOO! I need fluff. So much fluff. So... there's my prompt. Silly Fluff.

fluff goes boom (pg, warning: don't try this at home)

[inkvoices]

The milk run assigned to the newly formed Strike Team Delta as their first mission had an equipment list that, rather pointedly, did not include anything that could conceivably cause explosions, implosions, or any large scale destruction that might endanger civilian lives and SHIELD’s reputation, which meant that when the explosions, implosions, and destruction – far from any civilians, it must be said – started happening Agent Coulson was the only member of the support and observation team who appeared unconcerned.

“She made a tumble dryer explode with the fluff left inside it,” Clint gleefully explained later, his hair still slightly smoking, whilst the Black Widow stood behind him, arms crossed, aiming exasperated-fond-amusement at Clint and glares of suspicion at everyone else. “So that does that mean I get my exploding arrows back for next time, sir?”


I have recently discovered – not be personal experience, I hasten to add – that not cleaning the fluff out of your tumble dryer can cause it to set on fire. I’m sure Strike Team Delta could work with this. Also, beware fluff in tumble dryers!

[inkvoices]

public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable

(OH YEAH, PROMPTS!)

PDA

[alphaflyer.livejournal.com]

He's bleeding and sore but his arms still have strength; Natasha steps into their circle without hesitation, moulding herself to that warm, hard body that feels so much like home. She revels in the feeling of his tongue in her mouth, and for a moment it's like all the doombots in the world couldn't harm them -- until Steve's polite cough breaks the spell, and she opens her eyes to find him staring at them in undisguised horror.

Clint is a man of few words, but somehow he always finds the right one, and this time is no exception: "What??"

[inkvoices]

the truth isn't all things to all people all of the time

In Vino Veritas, rated G

[meatball42.livejournal.com]

(in my defense, this is clearly one of the cartoons)


"Natasha, tell them this makes me look mysterious and dashing, like you said," Clint demands, crossing his arms at Steve and Sam, who completely fail to cover their smirks when they turn to Natasha expectantly.

It's true that Natasha had told Clint he looked dashing and mysterious in his purple-and-gold sequined tuxedo, but now that she's properly knocked back some of Stark's top-shelf booze, her feelings on the matter have... evolved.

"Well... you always look mysterious and dashing to me," she replies, already cracking up along with Sam and Steve while Clint crosses his arms and pouts.

[inkvoices]

poetry in motion

[geckoholic]

They have a great many things in common, a lot of them obvious -- humans amongst gods and miracles, the best at their trade, weapons made fragile mortal flesh -- but sometimes Natasha thinks that the hidden similarities are more important than that. The way they both grew up in an environment that was hostile and threatening; the resilience they learned from it; the fact that they both know how to use their bodies in a fight in a way others yield their weapons. She watches Clint swing down from his outlook point and angle himself to shoot even as he falls, catches him watching her when she wraps herself around an assailant and brings him down with little else than skill and strength, and she knows he recognizes that too -- poetry in motion, a literal dance with death.

Lololol, the one time run-on sentence come in handy. IDEK.

[inkvoices]

For those of you who've read Black Widow: Forever Red: why is for guitar players and Americans.

(Because the minute I read that line I went that's a Clint Barton fic, right there lol. Anyone else read it?)

[inkvoices]

shit weather

(I'm British, the weather is a thing, hush :p )

[alphaflyer.livejournal.com]

Clint puts the collar of his leather jacket up a little bit higher, but all it does is channel the water more effectively down his neck, and straight down his spine. "Fuck," he mutters to himself, knowing full well that the only effect of this utterance will be that Steve will be hitting him up for yet another tenner for the orphanage. Maybe he should go back to that Edna Mode person; a cowl with batman ears doesn't sound so bad right now, even if the only thing she had in his size was purple.

[alphaflyer.livejournal.com]

Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton and a talking raccoon walk into a bar.

[franztastisch]

"Yeah, yeah, lap it up," Bucky says grumpily, arms crossed and positively pouting.

He looks like a goth who got high and raided his sisters make-up, the black eyeliner/eye shadow combo taking up almost half his face, and Clint can hardly hold himself up he's laughing so hard while next to him, Natasha is almost crying.

"I'm gonna fucking kill Steve," Bucky mutters.

[alphaflyer.livejournal.com]

No matter how hard they try, Coulson and Hill can't figure out what happened in Budapest.

the gift that keeps on giving (no warnings)

[inkvoices]

Barton oscillates between avoiding people’s eyes when they ask and bold, in your face, tall tales depending on the people doing the asking, while Romanoff alters her poker face just enough to raise a single, perfectly shaped eyebrow, until it becomes obvious to even the most hard-headed that they’re never going to tell.

For Agents Coulson and Hill that’s the perfect opportunity for a challenge issued over late night paperwork and burnt coffee that leads to attempts to find, and then decipher, purposefully obfuscated mission reports, hunts through the Archive, favours bought and exchanged with other agencies and with sources, the obtaining of camera phone footage and security camera footage that somehow never has the right angle, side trips and the rare use of holiday days to interview supposed witnesses, even eventual attempted bribery of Strike Team Delta…. but no matter how hard they try, Coulson and Hill can’t figure out what happened in Budapest.

(Clint keeps suggesting that telling one of them, or both, would be the perfect present when he can’t come up with any other special occasion gift ideas; Natasha says the challenge is the perfect present.)


PS. I still owe you - and others - Halloween ficlets; I haven't forgotten, it's in progress :)

[alphaflyer.livejournal.com]

Unexpected marriage.

[kiss-me-cassie.livejournal.com]

"Clint, what the hell is that?" Natasha asks, her attention pulled away from his amazing arms and her plans for them by the flash of gold on his hand.

He looks embarrassed and ducks his head so he doesn't have to meet her eyes as he confesses, "Uh, so... when Stark and I went out to the bar last night, he found out how good at slight of hand I am and he decided we should go to Vegas for -- hell, I don't remember what exactly -- but we drank a hell of a lot more and well... I think we got married at one of the wedding chapels on a dare," he concludes in a sudden rush.

Natasha stares at him dumbfounded for a moment before doubling over in laughter; he's never going to live this down.

[gsparkle]

The worst zoo trip ever.

[alphaflyer.livejournal.com]

The zebra enclosure, as Clint and Natasha peer past the torn chickenwire, looks like a battlefield; its inhabitants lie lifeless in the grass, more grisly red than their usual cheery black-and-white. The raptor, the leg of one of its victims dangling from its massive jaw, stares at the newcomers, its beady yellow eyes sizing them up like so much dessert. Clint's voice is slightly hoarse as he whispers into his smartphone: "Hey, Coulson -- what did you say von Doom was experimenting on again?"

[inkvoices]

must be Tuesday

[kiss-me-cassie.livejournal.com]

"What's she doing?" Steve whispered to Clint, as he watched Natasha tilt her head and study each move the tiny, on-screen blonde made, before executing a similar move in real life and mumbling about balance and inertia.

Clint shrugged and left her to her television show. "She does this every Tuesday, critiquing the choreography; you get used to it."


(Eh, I know the timeline doesn't match. She'd still be Red Room when BtVS aired, but who cares? Fic, right?)

[inkvoices]

feathers

Feathers

[desertport]

After greeting him at the door of their home after his mission, Laura plucked an unutterably soft wisp of a white feather from the sleeve of Clint's silk dress jacket and held it before his eyes, eyebrows raised in question. But before he could answer, Natasha pushed between them in her evening gown and lush, white feather boa, stopping to press her lips familiarly to Laura's before heading upstairs to change. Clint reached and pulled from Laura's shirt another silky wisp, the look in his eyes unutterably soft.

[inkvoices]

black eye

[geckoholic]

I shall not make this tragic, I shall not make this tragic, I shall not...

[kiss-me-cassie.livejournal.com]

Pretty in pink

[spyforaday.livejournal.com]

Nothing good happens after 2 a.m. Or does it?

[kiss-me-cassie.livejournal.com]

He's bone tired and aching, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep the sleep of the dead for a good ten hours or more before even having to think about anything else, but the moment Natasha slips beneath the sheet beside him, all thoughts of sleep flee from his mind. She's soft and warm, and oh god, her mouth against his is intoxicating, her nimble fingers on his skin hypnotizing. He slides his arms around her lithe body and pulls her tight against him, figuring who cares if he has to meet with Fury as ass-early o'clock or he's just gotten back from a grueling mission, she's here and she's so very alluring and he doesn't have nearly enough wits about him to deny her, even if it is past two in the morning...

[spyforaday.livejournal.com]

Clint Barton plays the piano (and/or sings).

[spyforaday.livejournal.com]

A change of heart.

A Change of Heart

[alphaflyer.livejournal.com]

Pepper looks at the ... thing in her hand, no longer pulsing and vibrating and giving off shocks, but still dripping slime; certainly, nothing in her job description comes close to what she'd just been asked to do. But still, there's something about it, and so she holds it under the tap, letting the warm water run over it until only the shiny metal remains.

Since she has known him, he has worn many masks -- narcissist, genius, merchant of death -- but somehow she knows that, thanks to that small machine in her hand, Tony Stark has become so much more.

[spyforaday.livejournal.com]

A little romance goes a long way.

[jackwabbit.livejournal.com]

(Sorry - missed the prompt part at first... but here's a little thing for you until I can answer some...)

-----

Clint loved his couch.

Most days, he couldn't think of a better way to spend the afternoon than laying on it with a bag of chips and a beer.

That is, until a certain redhead joined him there.

[kiss-me-cassie.livejournal.com]

Prompt: Couch

See? All fixed. :) Now write part two, which tells us what happens on the couch...

[inkvoices]

weekend

[inkvoices]

lazy

[inkvoices]

all these things I've done

[inkvoices]

one time Steve asked to draw Natasha and Clint

[spyforaday.livejournal.com]

As Clint looked at the pencil sketch he held in his hand, he shook his head and muttered, "Ya know, Cap, when you asked to sketch Nat and I during one of our sparring sessions, I didn't really know what to expect, but, ah, it sure wasn't this, 'cause I don't think we look like this when we're kicking the shit out of each other."

Looking over his left shoulder, Natasha allowed a small smile to ghost over her lips as she gazed knowingly at Steve's interpretation of her and Barton: two beautiful bodies that fit perfectly to one another in a tender yet protective embrace, while their eyes seemed to be simultaneously focused on each other and just beyond, ready for the next situation that threatened to separate them.

She raised her eyes to Steve, nodded in his direction, patted Clint on the shoulder, and simply said, "Nailed it."

[inkvoices]

teamwork

[kiss-me-cassie.livejournal.com]

Clint's got eyes on the entrance to the compound and reports to Natasha, "Not too many front guards, so if you get half, I can get the other half easily."

She takes out the first guard with a sweep of her legs, the next with her widow's bites, and before Clint has time to do much more than blink, there are six men laid out on the ground, all of them unconscious or dead, and not one marked by an arrow.

"Aw, Nat, you took all the fun out if it!"