Fantasies Come True

Draw Me to Life - Clint Barton

Draw Me to Life – Clint Barton

A/N: I didn't have a good reason to make this romantic in the beginning, so I'll make it a longer-than-one-chapter story. I don't know how long, but it will be longer than this.

Graphite pencil flew across sketchpad paper with ease, lining and darkening and shading beautifully. The pencil hardly left the pad, connecting one line to another, bringing the whole drawing together like a jigsaw puzzle. Darker lines here, a shadow there, erase that spot to bring in a little more light.

You finally lifted your hand, smiling down at your creation. Glancing back up at the movie playing on your TV, you compared your drawing to its inspiration – Jeremy Renner as Hawkeye in The Avengers. Jeremy was one of your favorite actors, so Hawkeye immediately became your favorite character. You loved to draw fictional characters, giving them your own style and amplifying their personality. You mostly drew characters from The Avengers, like Hawkeye and Black Widow and Captain America.

You normally had an animated style all your own, a pleasant mix of reality, cartoon, and Japanese anime. This time, however, you opted for a more realistic approach. You studied photos of Renner to get the lines just right, sticking his hair in the right directions and adding the perfect shade to his eyes.

Content with your drawing, you set your sketchpad down and rose from your bed, shuffling out of the room. You were craving a snack, so you headed into the kitchen to fetch some cheese, crackers, and iced tea. While you prepared your food, you recalled an episode of Charmed where a young boy had the power to bring his drawings to life, and he turned the Charmed Ones into superheroes. You hummed softly to yourself, wishing such a power existed. You could bring so many wonderful characters to life if all you had to do was draw them.

But magic didn't exist, so you would have to settle for fan art and fan fiction and pretending all of your favorite universes were real.

Upon returning to your room, you were confused to find your sketchpad open to a blank page. You had certainly left it on your most recent drawing. Your confusion only deepened when you heard rummaging in the bathroom that was connected to your room. Concerned and cautious, you set your plate and glass on the bedside table and picked up the wooden dowel you had lying atop your dresser. You'd bought it for a cosplay weapon, but since it had yet to be turned into such, it made a great bat.

"Shit," a male voice cursed, and a chill ran up your spine at how familiar it sounded. You burst into the bathroom, dowel raised, only to stop in your tracks, your jaw falling open in shock.

There, standing naked in your bathroom, desperately trying to wrap a towel around his waist, stood a man who looked very much like Jeremy Renner.

"Jeremy Renner?" you greeted awkwardly, still holding the dowel.

"Jeremy what?" the man replied. "No, my name is Clint."

You simply stared at him.

He extended a hand, the other hand clutching the fabric of the towel. "Clint Barton. You may know me as Hawkeye. I work for the Avengers."

You dropped the dowel. "Clint Barton. You're serious?"

He frowned. "Why the hell would I lie about my name?"

You turned your head back to your bedroom, your gaze falling upon your mysteriously blank sketchpad. "I did this..."

"Did what?" he asked. "Did you bring me here? Where am I, anyway? Can you send me back?"

"I just... I drew a picture of you... from the movie... and now you're here..."

"What movie?" he asked, following you into your room. "Did you draw me naked?"

A blush stained your cheeks. "No! I only drew your face. You're probably naked because I didn't draw you a body so I couldn't draw you clothes."

"Do you have any clothes I can borrow?"

You bit your lip, trying to avert your gaze from his toned chest, and shook your head. "Nope. All my clothes are for girls."

"Guess I have to stay in this towel," he sighed, leaning against the wall. "So what was the movie you were drawing me from?"

"It's called The Avengers," you replied, suddenly realizing how strange it must sound to a character from it. "It's a movie about, well, the Avengers. You, Black Widow, Iron Man. It's about how you came together to fight Loki."

"There's a movie about that?" he asked incredulously. "Who would watch it??"

You giggled. "Everyone. It's really popular."

He hummed in response, his brows furrowing in confusion as to why anyone would want to watch one of the hardest battles he'd ever fought. It sounded to him like someone wanting to watch a war documentary.

"Do you know how to send me back?" he inquired.

You shook your head. "No idea. I didn't even know you could come to life."

"Has this not happened before?"

"Never. I didn't think it was possible. I watch movies about magic but I don't believe it really exists. I guess I was wrong."

He brushed past you and sat on your bed. "What do we do then?"

You sat beside him. "I have no idea."

He smirked and leaned in, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "I have a few."

Your furious blush returned and you stood abruptly. "How about we go to the store and get you some clothes? We should disguise you, though. Put on a hat and sunglasses. People will think you're Jeremy Renner and that will just be a mess."

"Who's Jeremy Renner?" he asked as you rummaged through your closet, pulling out some old sweat pants and a baggy t-shirt. "I thought you said you didn't have any clothes for me," he reminded as you threw the clothing at him.

"They were my brother's," you replied simply. "I forgot I had them. It's all I've got and we can't exactly take you to the store in a towel."

"We can do other things," he smirked, dropping the towel without a care in the world that you were standing a few feet away. You looked away, covering your eyes with your hand.

"No, we really can't," you murmured. A million fangirl thoughts whirled through your mind, thinking back on all of the fan fiction you'd read about similar situations. You tried to push them away before you got too distracted and gave into his insinuations.

"Come on," you said, pulling on his arm when he was finally dressed. "Let's go shopping."