#lee!clint

So, when Wanda had swept Bucky’s feet from under him, you poked Clint’s side to get his attention. What you weren’t prepared for was the yelp that shot from his lips and the incredulous look he gave you while his hand covered the place you had just touched.

You didn’t expect Clint’s cheeks to turn fire-engine red, either. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. It was a kneejerk reaction because, oh my God… Clint Barton was ticklish.

“Something you wanna tell me, Barton?” You chuckled, winking at him before turning your focus back to the sparring match. You heard him scoff from beside you.

“Yeah. Don’t do that again,” Clint ordered in a tone so serious you almost obeyed him. You nodded in response, but clearly did not heed his advice because the second time it happened, it was most definitely on purpose.

You waited approximately 2 days before trying it again. Clint was in the kitchen—alone, thankfully—making himself breakfast when you walked past. Smirking to yourself, you redirected yourself to swerve into the room as quietly as possible to sneak up behind him. You waited until he put the utensils down before reaching out and squeezing at his ribs rapidly.

Clint screamed. He screamed so loud that you flinched and wondered why none of your teammates came looking for him. A cackle broke through your lips at his surprised reaction, having to bend over and support yourself on the counter just so you didn’t fall to the floor.

“You’re lucky Natasha was the one to train you. Otherwise, I’d kick your ass,” He grumbled before turning back to his eggs to season them. You laughed louder at his response, wiping a stray tear off your cheek.

“That made my entire week,” You said through your laughter, standing up and shaking your head. “Hawkeye—ticklish. Who would have thought?”

“You should leave now before I decide to kick your ass anyway,” He spoke firmly. You took the hint, still giggling as you evacuated the kitchen and started heading back to your original destination.

The third time it happened was on purpose, too, but what came to fruition afterwards was not.

A few days after the kitchen incident, you came upon Clint in the common room. He was reading a book, which was surprising in and of itself, so you plopped down on the couch next to him since he obviously wasn’t doing anything important.

“Hey, arrow-man,” You greeted him with your own nickname for him, grinning as he glared at you from his side of the sofa.

“Were you born for the sole purpose of getting on my last nerve?” He asked sarcastically. You snickered and shrugged, turning your body more towards him.

“Oh, yeah, didn’t you hear? My parents could see the future and knew you’d need someone to help you have fun. So, they had me.” You gave him a toothy grin along with a wink. “Anyways, Whatcha doing?”

Clint turned his attention back to his book after rolling his eyes at you. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Being an old grump. Come on, don’t you do anything fun anymore?” You pushed on his shoulder, sending him into the arm of the couch. You heard him huff as he sat back upright, scooting over to put more distance between you.

“I had fun before you joined the team.”

“Don’t be like that…” You drawled out, punctuating the last word with a harsh squeeze to the archer’s knee. Clint’s leg involuntarily kicked out as he let out one single laugh, his hands dropping the book to grab tight onto yours. “Ooh, that’s the first time I got you to laugh. Is that your tickle spot?”

Clint suddenly turned the tables, wrenching your hands off of him and wrestling you down so that your back was flat on the couch. With gritted teeth, he seethed, “I’ll show you a tickle spot.”

He wasted absolutely no time in getting revenge, his hands searching for each and every spot that turned you into a pile of giggles. He dug his fingers into your sides as his thumbs wiggled into your belly, smirking down as you fell limp against his touch.

“CLIHIHINT!”

Oh, don’t act all surprised as if you didn’t know this would happen someday!” He taunted, shifting his hands higher to scratch at your ribcage. “Plus, you asked if I did anything fun. This is fun.”

“NOHOT FOR MEHEHEE!” You squealed, your eyes shut tight by the force of how wide your ticklish smile was. “COHOME ON! Thihis was wahahay worse than I-hi got yohou!”

“Are you gonna stop tickling me?” Clint questioned you, lightening up his attack to let you speak properly. “Because if you don’t stop, I won’t stop and we’ll just go around in circles and trust me, I’ll win whatever this is.”

“That’s nohot fair! I’m wahay more ticklish than yohohou!”

“Then, I suggest you stop trying to tickle me.”

Clint redoubled his efforts back at your sides, pinching quickly to pitch your laughter back up to prove his point.

OKAY, YEHEHES! I-HI’LL STOHOP!” You batted at his hands as you squirmed under him. Clint chuckled, obviously boasting about his win, and moved off of you. You groaned before sitting up, this time sliding to the opposite side of the couch away from him. “You’re evil.”

“Hey! You only got the payback you deserved. Think about that next time you decide to be a little shit,” He reached forward to grab his book, reopening it back up to the page he was on before the scuffle. You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I am not a little shit.”