#last slice

Work could absolutely suck, and you were just glad to be able to come home to see your fiancé. You were completely knackered after a long day at work and just wanted to sit down and get a hug off of Clint but when you got home everything was better than you could have imagined. As you walked through the front door you were hit by the smell of pizza from a terribly greasy takeaway. Seen as you were working late, you knew that Clint would be getting his own dinner, but you assumed he would be cooking something not ordering food from your favourite takeout without you.

You discarded your handbag and shoes by the front door, allowing your nose to lead you to the great smell that was coming from the living room. There in the living room, Clint was sat on the sofa, some terrible late-night show on the tv but an almost empty pizza box on his lap. It was a large box but only two slices were left. As you entered the room, Clint lifted one to his mouth, taking a large bite.

Making your way over to him, you pressed your lips to his cheek to distract him from your wandering hand that took the last slice of pizza from the box.

“Hello Love,” you grinned, flopping down next to him.

He looked down at the empty box before over at you, seeing his slice of pizza being eaten by you. Clint begun to pout even though he was glad that you had come home to him. Now that the box was empty you knew it wasn’t needed so let your outstretched legs kick it from his lap, allowing your feet to take up that place.

“Hey! I was gonna eat that,” Clint whined as you took another bite out of the slice.

You offered him an innocent smile knowing that Clint loved you dearly and although he cared more about pizza than you, maybe he would let it slide this time.

“You know that you love me Clint,” you grinned, continuing to eat the slice.

Clint rolled his eyes at you.

“You’ll pay for stealing my pizza,” he said with narrowed eyes.

“And how do you plan to do that?” You grinned, taking one last bite.

He paused for a second, taking a second to think about whatever punishment would be forced upon you. You hoped that he had gotten distracted but sadly he didn’t, instead he looped one arm around your legs to force them into place, letting the other one start an onslaught of tickling to your feet. You let out a scream of terror, laughing uncontrollably.

“Please… please… stop… please,” you squealed, trying to kick your legs but they were being held in place.

“Apologise,” he grinned.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you squealed, trying to gain your breath back.