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Uh self indulgent vampire x hunter au 🧍‍♂️(and then they started making out /hj)

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The Hawkeyes

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I'd like to thank my older brother for introducing me to this magnificent ship. They give me brainrot.

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requested by sebbybooty

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Hawkeye: Freefall #3 (2020)

Matthew Rosenberg | Otto Schmidt

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"Okay, well you are a fuckin' piece too." He laughed quietly, only teasing her, even if it was technically true. He could understand why men tripped over themselves to talk to her. She was beyond gorgeous and one hundred percent out of reach, and men always wanted what they could never touch.

"What they don't understand is that, good as you look, it's even better knowing you. They don't deserve to." He leaned into her, turning his head to press a light kiss against her hair. It was no secret that Clint loved her, even if he might lie to himself a little about how deep those feelings went. He doubted he deserved to any more than they did, but he was lucky enough to have her anyway.

He hummed at the information, only mildly interested by it. He'd noticed the bartender was lovely because it was obviously meant to be noticed, but he'd rather spend the time with Natasha. "I'm busy right now."

i was just a girl somebody picked out in a bar.

@sioraiocht

Clint had watched many men, and sometimes women, flirt with Natasha in bar after bar around the world. On missions, in their downtime, sometimes even when they were pretending to be a couple for the sake of their cover. It was relentless and often hilarious and sometimes offensive, and he generally had no idea how she really felt about any of it. (How he really felt about it was better left unexamined; Clint wasn't much for introspection at the best of times, and certainly not with a drink in his hand.)

He'd just watched the latest hopeful slink away with their tail between their legs, a look of amused incredulity on his face that faded as he glanced at her, trying to decipher her expression. He must have decided she needed some comfort because he leaned his shoulder against hers, free hand giving a light tug to a strand of vibrant red hair and knowing full well he risked losing digits that way. "You could never be just a girl."

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My fav guy!!

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Clint Barton by だみ

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"Let me put your mind at ease. Shit's going to go wrong," he laughed quietly, bringing the glass to his lips. "We're on a team of Hulks, gods, Tony Stark, and Captain What-Do-You-Mean-Motorcycles-Aren't-Projectiles. We're gonna fuck shit up. But we'll do it as a team. You know they've got our backs, or we wouldn't be here." It wasn't easy for him either, putting faith in that many people, but for the first time in a long time, he wanted to.

If Clint doubted his place on this team, it wasn't for lack of goodness. He'd always known he came out somewhere in the middle on the morality scale, and he didn't sweat it much. His doubts were because he was human. He was good at what he did--the best, maybe--but that didn't exactly measure up to people with super-human strength. He hummed noncommittally, spinning the glass idly between his fingers. "It's not too bad. Hearing Rogers swear for the first time was eye-opening. It's good to know he's not all morals and spangles. You?"

what if i mess this all up?

@sioraiocht

It was a strange thing, being on a team again. A team that, despite avenging being part of the name, were considered the good guys and, typically, we were on the right side of the law. All of the above were unusual for Clint, even after years of adjusting to working for SHIELD. It had to be even stranger for Natasha. These weren't just agents and assassins they were working with anymore. They were friends. It made the stakes so much higher.

He'd been rattling around what was now Avengers Tower and their new home for over a week, figuring out the layout of the vents and where JARVIS did and did not have eyes and ears-- typical spy shit. Though he was content to spend most of his days and nights here, he wasn't giving up his building in Bed-Stuy either. Never hurt to have a backup and, like Nat seemed to, a part of him still felt this could all crash and burn at any moment.

It was the middle of the night when he'd wandered out for a drink and found her in a rare moment of self-doubt. He pulled a half-hearted smile, Natasha's face cradled between his palms. "So what? You forget who you're talking to? I fuck it up all the time, and you still love me. Even with your scary 'Clint you just fucked this up royally' face on." He kissed her forehead and drew back, picking up his glass. "We got this."

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He was so fucking mad at her. As exhausting as it was being mad at a dead person, he'd spent a lot of nights raging around his empty apartment, angry that she'd chosen this, angry that she'd taken that choice away from him. It wasn't anger welling up in him as he wrapped his arms around her though, clinging just as tightly as she was clinging to him. Tears burned his eyes and throat, falling without his notice or permission. He gulped air, steadied by the persistent thrum of her pulse beneath his fingers, the other sliding into her hair as his forehead tipped to hers. "Tasha, I-I'm sorry." He hadn't known that was what he was going to say until it was out, guilt swirling around with grief and anger. He hadn't been able to save her.

Clint hadn't been doing well since the return from Vormir. He couldn't forgive either of them for what had happened there, but mostly himself. He should have fought harder to save her, but in the end, Natasha had always been better than him. It was what he couldn't wrap his head around. She was better, so that shouldn't mean she was dead.

He was half-convinced he was hallucinating her at his door. He'd been at least half-drunk since she'd died, and in a sort of fugue state after that last fight. He was surprised he'd survived it, truthfully. He moved numbly to hug her, arms wrapping around her, face buried in her shoulder. "Are you real?" He had to ask. His own mind wasn't exactly a reliable narrator at the moment.

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"Yeah, it was." He didn't try to justify it. He had reasons, of course, but they were dumb and sort of cowardly, and he wasn't trying to excuse his behavior. Jess deserved better, but he'd known that since before they ever started dating. He'd never known how to end a relationship the adult way. How did he tell someone that he liked them a lot as a person, but he'd never really intended for things to become serious, and now that they were serious, it was high-key freaking him out? And, in the end, was the result of that conversation really going to be any better than what had actually happened?

He made a dismissive sound, tipping the bottle toward his lips. "She's probably god knows where by now. She never sticks around." Penny blew into his life just long enough to make a mess of things (not that he needed help with that) and then vanished again, often leaving literal wreckage in her wake. At least nobody had shot up his apartment this time. He knew she was bad for him, but it never seemed to matter in the moment. What could he say? He had a weakness for redheads. "I liked her too." But deep down, even if he was sorry about the way it had happened, he was relieved it was over. He finished his beer, signaling for another. "Anyway. Let's talk about your love life."

"C'mon, Nat… We both know if there's a problem, it wasn't her." He snorted softly into his beer bottle, not quite meeting her eyes. Clint lived with a low level of self-loathing at all times. It was his default setting, mostly unnoticeable on a daily basis because he was so used to it, but there were times like now when it became suffocating.

"Jess and I broke up. Penny... may have been involved." Penny may have been in his bed, but that wasn't something he wanted to say out loud. He low-key assumed Natasha already knew, anyway. She always knew everything. His nose wrinkled slightly as he tipped the bottle toward his lips. "For a world-class spy, you're a really bad judge of character."

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Oh, that fire was definitely intentional, as was, he assumed, the blocked door. He'd already tried kicking it down before it was actively burning, and it hadn't budged. It wasn't the first time Clint had walked into an ambush, but it was the first time he was risking Kate alongside him. It didn't sit well, nerves humming beneath his blasé attitude. She might be Hawkeye in her own right, but he still felt responsible. Damn. This was exactly why he'd never had kids.

"Me? I'm never sure of anything. But it's the only exit that's not on fire. Try not to breathe too much." Smoke rose, and there was already an unsettling layer of haze over the ceiling. If she passed out in the vent, they were both dead for sure. He laced his fingers together to give her a boost up and climbed nimbly in after her. Despite the smoke making his eyes and lungs burn, Clint felt more at home up there than he did on solid ground. He was always more comfortable in high spaces.

He opened his mouth to ask her a question and immediately inhaled a lot of acrid smoke, coughing into his shoulder, eyes watering as he continued to crawl. "See anything up ahead?" That unerring compass in his head knew which way the outside was, and while they weren't aimed toward it, they did seem to be moving away from the heat. It was an improvement, however slight. If nothing else, he hoped the vent would dump them out into a room that wasn't on fire. He could work with not on fire.

🏹 @fortitudina liked for a starter

As a general rule, Clint wasn't all that surprised when a mission caught fire. Quite literally, unfortunately. Stuck in a burning building wasn't his ideal situation. Where was the Human Torch when you needed him? Wait, no. Adding fire to fire would be how Clint solved a problem though. "Did we have a plan?" He coughed into his shoulder, eyes already watering from the smoke.

He did have a very specific skill set, and it included spotting things most people didn't see. His gaze landed on a vent high on the wall. Huh. If it led to an outside duct, they were home free. If it led deeper into the building, they could die trapped inside fiery walls instead of, y'know, in a fiery open floor plan. Not your worst idea, Barton. "Up ya go, girly girl." He nodded toward it, already kicking something over to stand on so he could remove the cover and boost her up.

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"Careful. That's exactly the kind of talk that ends in naked shitfaced upside-down archery." Clint didn't have the energy to sustain that particular chip on his shoulder--people thinking it was easy, what he did, like trying to keep up with gods and super soldiers with his human stamina, a string, and some bits of wood was a cakewalk--but he did occasionally end up naked and shooting targets at a party just to prove a point.

NO RAGRETS.

He snorted softly, his sense of humor almost as juvenile. "I mean, if you want more proof I never miss…"

@awcoffee-no sent: Most importantly, I was like 85% sober.

"Knowing you? Not sure if I believe that. But also... I don't think saying that's achieving what you hope it's achieving. Most people would've been less confused had you done that while completely shitfaced - but then.. I suppose I'm not like most people."

Wade moves a hand to rest on the fellow Avenger's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Peanut. Upside down-naked archery sounds easier than it quite possibly is - and I'm already looking forward to the next compound party. Either way - you're free to come pound. If you know what I'm saying."

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hawkeye

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Intergalacticju requested Hawkeye and Pizza Dog, so here’s some “I slept on your head because I love you” dog snuggles. 

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Officially dubbing them dumpster bros after i’m sure countless times both have been tossed in dumpsters post-battle. 

At some point they probably spotted each other and decided to treat themselves to slushies 

inspired by this post 

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‘hey Hawkeye, lookin’ like a lyric out of a less awful 80s song.’

‘katie-kate what does that even mean is this one of those pound sign aesthetic things you kids like.’

'i know that you know it’s a hashtag–’

'then you should know that I know that you know I know that, and I am just being irritating, which is fair 'cause you do it to me all the time.’

’……………yeah ok that’s fair.’