Imagine Hawkeyes @imaginehawkguys - Tumblr Blog

Imagine Kate getting sick and Clint having to take care of her

“I told you,” Kate says, sneezing and therefore rendering the point she’s about to make moot in advance. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are, Hawkeye.” Clint frowns at her, placing a mug of steaming hot chamomile tea in front of her, and hell, the very fact that he even has tea in this place is all kinds of wrong.

She sniffles, knowing she’s defending a lost cause -- the evidence that she’s not fine is so glaring not even Clint could walk past it -- but not yet ready to concede. “I’ve got allergies.”

Clint’s eyebrows lift in disbelief. “In December? It’s freezing out there, Katie.”

Kate sighs pointedly at the nickname, though she lets it pass, just this once. Talking kind of hurts, now’s not the time for arguments. She briefly debates claiming that Lucky triggers her allergies, but that would a) be an obvious lie because she’s never had a reaction to his fur before and b) might be a step too far. It’s not Lucky’s fault they fell into a lake last week. As if he sensed she’s been thinking of him, he buts his head against her legs, and Kate scratches him behind the ears.

“Fine,” she says, hands thrown up in surrender. “I’m sick. I’ve got a cold. I feel like shit. Happy now?”

Clint grimaces. “I’m not happy you’re sick.”

Normally she’d tease him mercilessly for such an obvious misconception, but well. Sore throat. Ouch. She has to pick her battles here. Instead, she decides it’s time to voice a few requests. “Do you have any cough drops? Also, I’d like honey in my tea. And a blanket would be nice, I’m kinda cold.”

Judging from the look he shoots her, he knows she’s pulling his leg. But his eyes wander over her swollen, red nose and her glazed eyes and of course then she has to sneeze again. He sighs, the kind that makes his chest heave like’s just ran half a mile. Then he sprints upstairs, comes back with an woolen blanket she didn’t even know he owned, stuffs it around her like she’s five. Once that’s done he reaches for his jacket. “Cough drops and honey? Be right back, Hawkeye.”

#Anonymous #Clint Barton #Kate Bishop #by gecko

imagine clint realizing while kate's in LA that he's in love with her and going out west to find her and tell her

Out of all the stupid mundane things that Kate forgot to pack when she made her dramatic exit, it’s a pair of earrings that does it. They’re round and golden, the target design that’s licensed to their mantle at this point; he remembers her wearing them for her birthday party last year, her twenty-first, after which she’d shown up at his doorstep, a little bit drunk, a little bit disheveled, wearing head to toe purple and smelling like lilacs.

Suddenly he misses her, a lot, to the point where it becomes an almost physical ache that’s pulling at his chest. She’d grinned at him when he opened the door, too bright to be anything else but a cover, and marched past him to flop onto the sofa, fell asleep there with Lucky curled up at her feet. That’s where he finds the ear rings; they poke into his thigh while he tosses and turns, half asleep in front of the TV but too exhausted to get up and go to bed. He holds them up in the dim light provided by the screen, and it all becomes clear.

Ten minutes later, he’s upstairs, throwing clothes into a duffel back mostly at random, only stops when he hears Barney clearing his throat. “What the fuck are you doing? It’s like 3 AM.”

”What I should have done weeks ago,” Clint says. At Barney’s incredulously raised eyebrow, he grabs another a pair of jeans, stuffs it into the bag and zips it shut. “I’m getting her back.”

#Anonymous #Clint Barton #Kate Bishop #Barney Barton #ClintKate #by gecko

Hey there. Could you please tag nsfw and/or smut please?

Oh, sure. Of course. Added a “nsfw text” tag to the post. :)

#asks #mod post #Anonymous

Natasha walking into clints apartment only to see Clint and Kate doing it on the coffee table.

Natasha is halfway to Bed Stuy before she realizes that’s where she’s headed, instead of her own place. Post-mission autopilot; there were a bunch of civilians that barely made it out, and she doesn’t quite want to be alone. Sure, she could have stayed at the tower, but that’s not the kind of company she wants. She needs someone familiar, someone to be alone and quiet with, and even after all these years, that’s still Clint.

She doesn’t have a key to this apartment, which, for her, is only a minor inconvenience. Picking the locks of both the building entrance and Clint’s door is a matter of seconds for each, barely more time than someone with a key would have needed.

The sight that greets her when she pushes the door open is less ordinary.

Clint’s not alone. Kate is with him, though that’s not the uncommon part. She tends to be. No, the novelty here is that he’s got her bent over the coffee table, which he’s kneeling in front of, thrusting, both of them naked from the waist down, her legs wrapped around his waist. Yes. That is definitely new.

Both their heads whip around when they realize they’re no longer alone. They freeze. Kate’s quickly reddening face forms a perfect scandalized O, and if Natasha knows him at all then Clint’s biting his lips to avoid bursting out with laughter.

“Hi Nat,” he says, clearing his throat, grinning obnoxiously. “You could’ve called. I’d have made fresh coffee and gone out for pastries.”

Natasha doesn’t even want to know how old his non-fresh coffee is, and also... “Pastries. Served on that table? I think I’m glad I didn’t call ahead, then.”

And yeah, that does it. He splutters and wheezes, making apologetic hand gestures at Kate, who’s glaring daggers at him. “Yeah, okay,” he concedes once he’s caught his breath. “Good point.”

There’s a momentary stalemate, during which both Hawkeyes stare at her without making any move at all to get out of their compromising position, while Natasha appreciates the view and waits. It’s Clint who breaks the silence.

“So, uh,” he says. “Anything important you came to see me about? Cause we both still got an orgasm to chase and -- ”

He doesn’t get to finish that sentence, because Kate groans -- not in the good way -- and flicks him upside the head. Clint merely shrugs at her. Circus kid; if he ever possessed a sense of shame, it’s been thoroughly trained out of him.

“Nah. You guys have fun,” Natasha replies, winking at them, which causes Kate to blush a darker shade of red and Clint to bite down on another fit of laughter.

She lingers a little before she closes the door, but hey. Clint’s ass is still spectacular, and she rarely gets to see it these days. Who could blame her?

#Anonymous #Natasha Romanoff #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #ClintKate #by gecko #nsfw text

Hi there, I'm lostemotion / geckoholic, and I'm joining Carmen as a writer on here to help tackle your prompts. Almost two years ago, I got into Marvel comics after a couple years of being on the fringes with the movies, and the rest is pretty much history. Rabbit hole and so on. ;D Anyway, I'll mostly tackle the comics prompts, and I'm happy to be a part of this blog, whee!!

#mod post

Hi guys guess what! I have finally had a chance to look at the applications. Sorry it’s taken me so long!

Anyway, notifications have gone out. Stay tuned to find out more about our new writers!

xo Carmen