Clint Barton / Hawkeye Novels & Stories

Mr Hawthorne rolled his eyes as he walked over to the wine bar and grabbed a bottle of vodka and two shot cups. "At least, while we try to figure out a way to get ourselves out of the clutches of this monster, let's drink to the fact that our head is still intact on the top of our neck till this moment. That's something worth celebrating." Mr Hawthorne toasted to as he poured a shot for himself and one for Mr Delm. "I might have a teeny tiny idea." He began and Mr Hawthorne sat back down staring at him expectantly. "Okay." "My minions have found out that the only other person that doesn't fear Claw is his younger brother his younger brother is a formidable opponent when it comes to him. We c

It felt wrong but he would not take anything from me. I headed to the kitchen and made a hot drink. The warmth settled me. My house was too busy for my liking. I offered Logan a drink which he gladly accepted. As we were drinking there was another knock at the door which was unexpected. I froze, gripping my hands against the counter. Logan disappeared and returned a few moments later with someone behind him. “Leah, this is Jack, he does security for us. Jack this is Leah.” Jack was shorter than Logan and a lot stockier. He was muscular and had a shaved head. He reminded me more of an army man than anything else. His arms were covered in tattoos, and his stance screamed military. He stepped f

Was this guy asking for his death? “You motherf*cker...” Barton burst into a fiery rage. If he just intended to remove the arms of Tyr and his group previously, now he had made up his mind to take them all out. He rushed forward, whereas his subordinate followed suit. Even all the crews of Hapi Clubhouse in their surrounding area lunged forward to surround them.

His hesitation appeared to irritate the Alpha further. Harrison stammered and began to cough, clearly struggling to respond to Alpha Riel's question. The Alpha's patience wore thin, and he raised his voice, demanding a clear answer. His frustration was evident, and it was clear that he shared a trait with Hawthorne – a dislike for being kept waiting. In the end, Harrison could do nothing but nod.