Clint Barton Comic Novels & Stories

Bart sat alone in the classy bar, completely speechless and frozen like he had been asked to make a choice between life and death. After thinking for an awfully long time,Bart took out his phone and called Katelyn. "Hey" *Hi Barry* "I told you i didn't like being called Barry" He let out a brief laugh filled with bitterness. *Ok ok I'll stop. What's up?, you aren't the type to call late at night* ".... Katelyn" *Yeah, what's up?* He took in a deep breath before he spoke. "Let's stop hanging out."

Chapter Eleven— fake dating. ☆Micaiah's POV☆ We sat in his study. Barton himself looked like something out of a mob movie—sixty years old, silver hair slicked back, a pinky ring that caught the light when he moved his hand. Kieran stood behind me, silent and watchful. He'd barely said a word since we arrived. "So," Barton said, swirling his scotch. "Daemon Blackwood." I leaned back, keeping my expression neutral. "He's becoming a problem."

Alex Sebastian collected a huge amount of Loan from Clint Empire twelve years ago when he started his company and could not pay it back. Ten years ago, Gabriel Clint who was the founder and CEO of CLINT EMPIRE lost their first son and the second had to go to jail for the murder of his only brother, this left the parents devastated and when they could not bear it, they lost their life as a result of the shock. When Gabriel's younger brother took over the company, Alex Sebastian felt elated feeling that he no longer had to pay the loan. But to the astonishment of everyone, The murderous son who was convicted of ten years in imprisonment comes back after five years, Cruel, brutal, and ready to

“I lost mine before the first day of classes. I cannot justify buying another. Besides, I never attend the games anyway.” Clint turned and left. He returned with a spirit shirt. He walked over to where I was standing behind the counter and pulled the shirt over my head. “You will wear it,” he said sternly, but it wasn't his blue eyes looking back at me, it was Carter, his dragon’s, amber ones. I recoiled both in shock and fear. However, he failed to notice or care about my trepidation. Typical for him, and well, anyone. I know that I am insignificant, and I will not allow myself to think otherwise, but I do wonder what has gotten into The Trio.

" Barton cast an affectionate glance at Jana, his face lighting up with surprise. When he looked at me, his arrogance and smugness were completely unconcealed. Beside him, Trenton puffed up with pride.

he drily remarks. “It is,” I admit. Claude brings me to a chair and sits me down. He walks away and returns with a wet wash cloth and a glass of water. After handing them to me he takes the other chair. A pensive look is on his face. “Now what?” I ask him. “We talk to Barto. He is a rogue. He claims to have a message for you. Maybe Maverick sent him.” “He doesn’t smell like one,” I say, thinking back to the cells. They stank. Of blood, urine, excrements and and mostly fear. But not the tell tale putrid smell of rogue.

He fucked me harder and then finally shot into the condom. Bart took me to his bed and he laid on his back and pulled me to him. I laid down with my head on his chest. He softly kissed me and rubbed my back and shoulders tenderly and gently. I gently rubbed the hair on his chest and stomach. I know I shouldn't compare him to Gordie, but I couldn't help it. Bart's chest and stomach were hard with muscle. It looked good, but wasn't nearly as nice to cuddle with as Gordie's softer body. "You're a good boy, Clark," Bart whispered. "You're my boy now."

He cried out loud in pleasure and clutched at my hips as his climax hit him. I looked at him with amusement and smiled. Then as soon as he recovered, I got off him and stood in front of him, looking directly at him. He raised an eyebrow as if wondering why I was so silent and serious. I looked directly into his eyes and said “You enjoy this too much to be ghosting me” His eyebrows furrowed together but he remained silent so I asked again “Are we clear, Barton?” He nodded and smirked. I shook my head mockingly and left him alone while he tried to recover from his ecstasy.

“It’s been a long time, you could a least give me a hug.” Bartholomew taps a beat on the table before standing up, putting his arms out inviting Claudia to put her arms around him. “It has been a long time” Bartholomew says, taking his seat again. “I see you are still hacking into places that don’t want you to.” “And you are still trying to stop me” Claudia giggles, calling the waitress over. “Low fat Hazelnut latte and a full cream one for my friend here.”

I didn’t need the half-truths he’d been dishing out like rationed water anymore. When I finally looked at him, Clint wasn’t standing like the man who usually had three backup plans tucked behind every decision. He looked… tired. Not exhausted as he’d run from something. But tired in the way people get when they’ve spent too long lying, too long covering tracks that keep reappearing.