#ler!clint
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widowsistersandfriends · 5 months ago
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Comfort
Request: Hello ! I Hope you’re fine and you’re doing well :) I saw a headcanon on @ficsandgiggles page about Natasha and Clint and I was wondering if you would be ok to write that ? The fact that Natasha, after the red room, felt so touch starved and afraid of light touch and Clint comforting her with tickles seems so cute to me ! But if you don’t feel comfortable doing that it’s totally fine In understand ! Have a good day :)
Note: Hi! I am doing well and I appreciate you for asking! Thank you for this cute request! I enjoy Natasha and Clint's bond as best friends <3 I apologize for the delay, but I hope you like it!!
Word Count: 684
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The Red Room was nothing but trauma for Natasha. All the years she was controlled and forced to do horrible things against her will. One of the major results from the Red Room was that Natasha no longer felt safe or comfortable with touch. It was very rare that she would allow someone to touch or even hug her. The only people she allowed to do that were Yelena, Wanda, and Clint at times.
Some days were more difficult than others. Sometimes she wouldn’t even think about her past trauma. Other days she couldn’t stop being reminded. Today was unfortunately one of those days. She was huddled in her room, tears slowly running down her face. She couldn’t help but think about all the time that was stolen from her childhood. Time that she couldn’t get back. 
Just then there was a soft knock at her door.
“Natasha? Can I come in?” 
Natasha got up slowly and opened the door for the unexpected visitor.
Clint was revealed at the door as he slowly stepped inside. The two of them sat on the bed, keeping quiet for a moment.
“Rough day on the mind?” Clint asked, encouraging her to speak about how she was feeling. 
“I just got triggered. It usually doesn’t overwhelm me to this point, but there’s always those days,” Natasha sighed.
“I know you’ve been through a rough childhood. It’s okay to mourn it and even feel jealous of those who were able to have a normal childhood,” Clint said. 
Natasha nodded to show she was listening.
“And I know it’s hard because you can’t change the past. However, you’re free now and you can change your future. You’ve already helped so many young girls not have to go through what you did. That alone is an accomplishment in life not many other people have,” Clint said, softly patting her back.
“Thank you, Clint. That was very sweet of you,” Natasha responded, wiping away her remaining tears.
“Hey, that’s what friends are for. I know Yelena is usually where you go for comfort, but I’m always gonna be here for you, I promise,” Clint said sincerely, opening his arms for a hug.
Natasha embraced him warmly, squeezing him tight. 
“You know, for someone so old you sure can put words together well,” Natasha said cheekily.
Clint rolled his eyes, as he was used to Natasha making fun of his age. However, this sparked an idea in his mind.
“You know what you need? Cheer up tickles,” Clint said, now asking for permission since he knew how traumatized she was from most touch. 
Natasha nodded, telling him to be gentle. Clint promised he would stop whenever she said so. 
He began to softly tickle her sides, making her giggle adorably. 
“Wow, so that hasn’t changed,” Clint remarked, tickling her stomach and ribs now as her laughter went up an octave. 
Clint then moved to tickle her feet, making her squeal with laughter.
“CLIHIHINT,” Natasha laughed hysterically.
“Hmm? What’s wrong? Does that tickle?” Clint said, loving the fact that he was able to make her laugh and smile. 
“YEHEHES,” Natasha giggled out, as Clint flipped her over and began gently tickling her back, making her giggle and squirm softly. He knew this wouldn’t overwhelm her, but was just enough to keep her giggling.
When Natasha had enough, he let her up and got her some water which she much appreciated.
The two of them chatted a bit more, talking about different topics to keep her mind off of her past. After a while, Natasha was starting to feel mischievous and reached out to pinch his side. Clint yelped in surprise and jumped away from her. 
“Natasha! Don’t get any ideas,” he warned her. 
“You know what would really cheer me up? If I got to wreck you with tickles,” Natasha said, now pinning Clint to the bed and tickling his armpits, sending the archer into a flurry of laughter. Natasha giggled along with him at his extreme reactions. Clint was willing to take a wrecking, as long as it made Natasha happy and smile. 
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valiantphantomangel · 2 years ago
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Pranked
Being the youngest avenger in the compound means that you were always out on mischief, courtesy of Loki.
But you never seamed to get away with it, like now.
Pranking Clint was probably one of the stupidest idea you ever hat, which explained your current situation.
You almost slipped when you rounded a corner but continued to run knowing that if HE got you, you were to be in big trouble.
"I can keep this up longer then you Y/N, your only making it worse for when i do catch you" Barton screamed out "Just stop now and maybe I'll go easy on you".
"NEVER"!
"Suit yourself" and you were tackled to the ground.
The sight of the whip cream on his face made you giggle loud.
"You think that's funny do you? I'll give you something to laugh about" Clint immediately went in for the kill.
He attacked you lower ribs and arm pits at the same time, you kicked your legs on the ground from underneath him trying to avoid his hands.
"AHAHAAHAHAHAAH CLIHIHINT STOPHAHHAA"
"Not until you apologize"
"NOTHAHAHHA GONNHAHAHA HAPPEN AHHHHHAHAH"
You slammed your arms down to at least protect you armpits but that didnt matter, he just attacked your lower ribs.
"HAHAHAHAHA OKHIHIHIIH FINE IM SORRYHIHIH"
"Are you sure? I'm not convinced"
"YES I AM HAHAHAHA NOW LET ME GOHAHAHAH".
Clint chuckled and got off of you.
You just curled up in a ball and laid there until the remaining tickles vanished.
He gave you and you took it.
"jerk" you mumbled.
"Aww you love me" he teased poking your belly.
"Fine but no more tickles for today".
"that's fine, I'll just continue my revenge tomorrow".
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inneedofsupervision · 3 months ago
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Movie Night? No, thank you.
Summary: Some obvious downsides are coming with enhanced senses, but you'll get used to it. The spidey sense thought that has not given Peter any trouble. It quickly became one of his favorite abilities. Until now. Until the Avengers thought, "Hey, let's watch a horror movie with the barely old enough teen in our team".
Peter quickly comes to an insight. Watching horror movies with a spidey sense?
Ten out of ten can not recommend it.
TW: They are watching a horror movie so there are mentions of violence, blood, and injuries, if that's not for you, skip the beginning.
She's running.
Running as fast as she can.
The stench of blood, vomit, and sweat that had made it hard to keep from giving up the last contents of her stomach has grown to be her slightest concern as she stumbles past weathered stone walls and destroyed doors.
"Elli! Elli, where are you?"
A sharp scream escapes her as she misses a step. With an earsplitting noise, the plank she stepped on yields under her weight, and she promptly sails along the rest of the floor plates down into the dark. A sickening squelch reaches the edge of the hole as a flood of hot, biting, breath-stealing pain forces an almost inhuman howl out of her before choking noises emit the frantic attempt to breathe through the pain. But she cannot stop. She needs to find Elli. Tears of dread run over her dirt-smeared cheeks as she claws at the walls to get up.
"Elli," the woman moaned in pain as she fought the urge to break right here and now.
"I'm coming, Elli. I won't leave you here."
She's breathing heavily. Her eyes gloss over, and the last flicker of light dims as she ignores the rusty pipe that had bored through her tight, staring at the wall looming over her. Elli. She has only thoughts for Elli.
With little strength left, the woman begins digging her nails into the moist wood before setting her uninjured foot onto a tiny ledge as she climbs. Her breathing and the blood pulsing in her head are the only sounds she can focus on as she fights herself upwards, needing to get Elli. As she almost made it out, her fingers claw into the ground frantically, grabbing desperately for anything to hold onto and pull herself up. Her hand wraps around something solid, and she doesn't think. She needs to get out, so she pulls and finally, finally makes it over the edge. With a cough and gasping for air, she collapses onto the floor, the blood that oozing out of the wound colors her jeans a dirty red. Sweat-matted hair falls over hunched shoulders as she dry heaves, body shaking with utter exhaustion.
"I'm coming, Elli." The words are mumbled, barely brought over cracked lips. Her breath hitches as a spasm shoots through her hand into her arm, and she glances at it as it begins cramping from how hard she is still holding onto her lifeline.
The lifeline.
"What-" she mutters as her eyes catch onto the object she's clinging to, which turns out to be a blood-stained boot.
"It's him," whispers Peter to no one in particular as he stares wide-eyed at the screen, watching the woman's eyes, caught in a full shot, gazing up at the pantleg that follows the boot until the realization hits her. He grimaces at the terrified scream that echoes through the room and squints his eyes as the axe comes crashing down.
"How could she not tell she was grabbing the boot of the killer? What kind of bullshit is this?!" Peter longingly looks over to Clint, who throws popcorn in the direction of the screen while protesting about the logic of the second lead character.
"As if you were any smarter than her."
Sam throws a pillow at the archer, Peter's pillow. The only thing that had shielded him from, well, he wasn't sure why he was hugging it, but it had brought some comfort. That was until Sam decided to fling it at Clint, who sputters as it's hitting him at the side of his head.
"Can both of you get a grip," grumbles Bucky from next to Peter's other side. He gets a fistful of popcorn thrown at him as an answer. Some of it lands on the teen, as well. Without his pillow, Peter's hands find each other on his lap, where they crawl into the sleeve of the opposite arm. At least like this, he could cross his arms over his chest and not look as much like he's hugging himself. His eyes wander over from the screen to Clint again, just in time for the killer to chase after another victim. His jaw tightens at the screams.
He hadn't always had this much trouble watching horror movies. Sure, he would get a bit spooked, but since the spider bite, it got worse. The suspense subconsciously triggers his sense of danger, leaving him extra jumpy. It doesn't get better with the rest of his senses sharpening to make him more aware of his surroundings, causing Peter to struggle even more to refrain from flinching at every loud noise. Clint shifts in his love-seat, arm thrown over the backrest as he relaxes into the cushion. For the last ten minutes, Peter had thought about excuses to change positions. He felt incredibly out of place, squished between Bucky and Sam, and wished Mr. Stark was here and not away on some gala with Pepper.
Mr. Stark would make him feel better.
The man would pull his arm around his shoulder, and the second he senses Peter jumping again, he would say that the movie sucks and suggest watching that terrible show about celebrities showing off their properties. He roasts their room decor, criticizing until Peter hits his shoulder to make him stop because he cannot stop laughing. Tony would grin, amused, and keep insulting someone else pointlessly expensive and ugly kitchen sink while Peter next to him chortles at the colorful slander. But Mr. Stark isn't here. His last resort for feeling a little better would be Clint. If he only could get up and walk over to the archer, he was very optimistic the other would sense his discomfort. Maybe not as fast as Mr. Stark, but Peter had noticed that, despite the teasing, Clint had a soft spot for him. The man would put his arm around Peter's shoulder in a half hug, claiming to need something to hold onto, joking that the movie was scarier than he remembered. Clint's great like that.
But Clint also sits at the other end of the room, completely draped all over the place and leaving little space to squeeze into. And even if there were room, Peter would need a reason to go over without embarrassing himself. Stuck between Sam and Bucky, still bickering, Peter pulls his hands out of his sleeves and debates if he should pull his knees onto the couch. Like that, he could always hug them to his chest to compensate for the loss of the pillow. But that could draw attention to him, and Peter didn't want to get teased. Maybe if he slowly starts with one leg? The teen keeps shifting in his seat, trying to act composed and not noticing that his constant moving caught the attention of the men sitting next to him.
"You've gotta say something?"
"Huh?" is Peter's eloquent answer.
Sam raises an eyebrow. "You're squirming around like you're sitting on hot coals. Something the matter?"
"Oh, I kinda need to go to the toilett."
The movie halts. Bucky looks at him with a frown, remote in hand.
"What are you waiting for?" he asks, gesturing for Peter to hurry up. The teen suppresses a groan. He hoped they would leave the movie playing. How is he supposed to stall time now? He half-heartedly gets up, wondering how long he should take since he didn't actually need to go.
"He's a little out of it today."
Steve carries a frown as he glances over his shoulder, where the teen has shuffled out of the room.
"Probably some teenage angst because of his finals coming up," comments Sam nonchalantly, head leaning onto his palm. "He will get over it." Steve doesn't look happy but seems to accept the plucked-out-of-thin-air explanation as he settles down again. Sam glances to the side. His and Bucky's eyes meet, and Sam rolls his eyes, wondering what he has done in his past life to be surrounded by these overpowered worrywarts as the ex-assassins expression told him he didn't believe one word. When Peter returns from his unplanned bathroom break, he stops, eyebrows rising at the scene before him. There was popcorn. Lots of it, everywhere. "What happened here?" he asks puzzled. "Clint said Sam wouldn't notice a killer standing in front of him even when he is about to get stabbed," explains Natasha, who doesn't bother looking up from her phone while Clint shields himself with a blanket to avoid the onslaught of popcorn getting thrown at him. "Okay," says Peter slowly, drawing the word out and giving the fighting men a confused side-eye as he walks over to Bucky. The latter looks about to get up at any second to end the chaos himself. "That's it," cheers Sam as Clint protests when the blanket gets ripped out of his hands. Peter glances at the soft fabric thrown onto his lap and brushes off the few crumbs sticking on it. Sam stands triumphantly over Clint, who, very maturely, sticks his tongue out at the man. Sam dumps the rest of the popcorn over the archer's head. "Jokes on you if you think I wouldn't eat the popcorn like this." Clint runs a hand through his hair, sending kernels onto the couch. "What are you, a raccoon?" Clint flips him off and bends down to take the fallen pillow, but Sam is quicker and kicks it out of the archer's reach. Clint doesn't look like he cares much as Sam bends down to take the pillow and thrusts it into Peter's arms. "Keep that before he gets any dumb ideas," orders Sam as he sits back down. Not only having gained a blanket but also a pillow, Peter only nods before taking the pillow, hugging it to his chest. He throws the blanket over it, pulling it closer around himself. "I will keep them safe," he says. The seriousness in his voice causes Steve to throw the bundled-up teen an amused look. The movie continues, and so does Peter's fidgeting and shifting. The blanket and pillow were a great distraction, making him feel slightly less over the edge as he could squeeze the cushion when the sounds from the movie got too much. But the suspense still sucks. His spidey sense wouldn't shut up, and he knew that's the whole point of watching a horror movie, to put the audience on the edge, fearing what would happen next. But usually, the audience doesn't own a sixth sense warning them about something that's about to happen, which is great for them because Peter could attest that having one and watching a horror movie is one of the most inconvenient
downsides in everyday life that can happen. They are only half an hour into the movie as Peter's knuckles grow white with how hard he's fisting them into the blanket. His eyes stick to the screen where the protagonist climbs over the beat-up fence to search the abandoned mansion for their lost friend. At the sound of a door slamming, the protagonist and Peter gasp simultaneously in shock, and the fabric under his fingers tears as he unwillingly grabs the blanket harder. He stares blankly at the destroyed fabric in his hands, hoping Mr. Stark won't be too mad. With stealthy movements, he rolls up the edge of the blanket, acting like nothing happened.
His leg bounces up and down as he debates come clean and asks if they could watch something else as another door slams shut. The woman walks down a dimly lit hallway. The music grows ominous, the camera focusing on the shaky hand going for the tarnished doorknob. Peter's leg shakes harder. He is about to open his mouth and tell the others he has forgotten some schoolwork he needs to do to Monday, when something flutters over his neck.
He twitches, instinctively scrunching his shoulders up, like a turtle caught of guard. His eyes break from the screen to look at Bucky, whose arm retreats from behind his head.
"You had this in your hair."
Peter blinks stunned at the man. Bucky lifts his hand and wordlessly lets a piece of popcorn fall onto Peter's lap. On-screen, the woman passes the door and walks up a staircase, following a bloody trail.
"Thanks," mumbles Peter, but it sounds more like a question. Bucky doesn't say anything, which isn't less confusing as the teen isn't sure how to interpret the man's gesture. The ex-soldier is hard to read. Peter runs his hand through his hair, but thankfully, he hasn't any more food stuck there.
"Attics and basements are equally bad choices," comments Clint with enviable serenity while munching on the popcorn he picks from his clothes, successfully shifting the attention back onto the movie where a blood-drawn arrow points towards the handle of a loft ladder. Peter doesn't even want to see what is about to happen, unconsciously shifting back so he can barely peek over his knees. The teen retreats his arms around his legs, the cushion pressing against his chest at the action. Squinting his eyes, he watches with tense shoulders as the woman steps onto the ladder, climbing up into the dark.
"What the heck?" hisses Sam as something bumps into him rather forcefully. With a frown, he stares down at the blanket burrito of a teen who wears a flustered expression. To Sam's confusion, the blushing teen doesn't pay mind to the one-sided fight on the screen but gapes at Bucky, who has his head turned towards the TV, looking as uninvested as he did since the beginning.
"What's up with you?" asks Sam, bewildered. He lowers his voice, noticing that the others hadn't seen what was happening. "You plan to jump on the ceiling next?"
"Bucky, he-" began the younger to defend himself but quickly clapped his mouth shut as said man turned his head to him, raising a single eyebrow. Sam's confusion grows as the kid honest-to-god pouts. "Never mind," mutters Peter, crossing his arms over his chest, but Sam sees him giving the long haired man a wary side-eye. Sam glances over the teen's head, catching Bucky's eyes. Bucky's lips twitch upwards. Sam shakes his head but keeps from saying anything.
Two could play that game.
Sam keeps paying only half of his attention to the movie, trying to catch up on what is going on between the two idiots next to him. It doesn't take long for him to figure out the pattern. As the suspense rose, so did the tension in Peter’s posture. Sam glances over to Bucky, catching the man's smug expression as he slightly shifts his arm. "Oh no, you don't," thought Sam, squinting his eyes. Peter barely stifles the tiny scream by smushing his face into the pillow as, out of nowhere, a hand claws into his side, digging their fingers into the soft spot under his ribs. Simultaneously, his left armpit gets attacked by a set of fingers worming their way into it, wriggling around experimentally. He jolts at the ticklish bold shooting through his nerves and lets himself fall to the side to avoid the feeling. He puts a hand on Bucky's knee, catching himself before he could stumble off the couch. "What's gotten you so jumpy today?" Peter's head whips in Sam's direction, the protest laying on the tip of his tongue, but as he opens his mouth, the only sound coming out is an embarrassing squeak as a finger pokes him in the stomach, making him jump and nearly hit his face against Bucky's chin. He slaps the offending metal digit away. "You guys suck," mumbles Peter as he straightens himself and crosses his arms protectively around his middle, sending them both a glare. "What did you just say?" Sam mock-threateningly wriggles his fingers in the teen's direction, but Peter catches the hand, holding it tight and only letting go after hearing a whispered plea. He gives the man a side-eye but lets Sam go and leans back onto the couch. To Peter's horror, it didn't end like that. Through the next twenty minutes, his whole attention got stolen by the men he gets nearly squished by, wary of every one of their movements. He wasn't paying attention to anything happening on the screen. Instead, he was busy catching sneaking fingers or batting hands away that reached out to poke him randomly. The pillow and blanket were lying abandoned in front of the couch. Toward the end of the movie, the attacks relent, and his focus is back on the screen where the main protagonist finds her beaten-down friend locked away in the basement, chained to a chair, desperately searching for anything to break the locks open. The camera zooms out at a low pace, slowly revealing more and more of the room. Peter's eyes are stuck on the barely lit corner behind the panicking women, his spidey sense spiking again. He hadn't even noticed that his sixth sense at some point had stopped reacting, only now since it’s beginning to buzz louder than ever. He subconsciously pulls his knees up, curling into himself, when suddenly something pushes him to the side. With a surprised yelp, he tips over, falling onto Sam's legs that the man had put on the couch table. "That's it. I'm done.” Sam throws his arms up in defeat. He flicks a finger against Peter’s forehead.
“You can't sit still for a minute, can you?"
The teen rubs his head with a frown, glaring up at Sam. "That wasn't my fault, it's Bucky! He push-AH!" Peter had been trying to climb down off Sam's legs as he was protesting about being falsely accused when he lost his balance thanks to a pair of hands grabbing his ankles. "You aren't the only one getting annoyed by his fidgeting," grumbles Bucky as he tugs on the teen's legs until Peter lies stretched out on the men's laps, glaring at them both for acting like jerks. "You two are so childish, you know that?" Peter growls and tries shifting and rolling off their legs, but an arm around his waist keeps him from going anywhere. "You distract us during the whole movie, and we are the childish ones?" Sam somehow manages to keep a straight face despite the betrayed and grumpy puppy look the teen's sending them. "Sorry kid but I cannot let that sit." He reaches his hands out, ready to continue where he laid off during the middle of the movie. He catches the teen's lips twitching upwards, a nervous slip of anticipation. "Stop it, Sam." Peter tries to sound stern. But that's kinda hard when you get pinned down by a super soldier and his annoying friend who decide, that they have nothing better to do than start teasing you. At this point, the movie caught no one's interest as all eyes glanced at the one-sided tickle fight breaking out on the couch.
“I hahahaven’t dohone anythihining!”
“You were squirming around and bumping into us the whole time. Neither me nor Bucky could concentrate cause of your fidgeting.”
“Thahat’s becauhse youhu kehept tickling mehehe!” protests the teen.
“Me?” asks Sam with acted surprise while holding one of Peter’s wrists down to attack his sides, causing the teen to try curling into himself, laughing loudly but failing thanks to the Super Soldier holding onto his legs “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
When Peter manages to finally capture Sam's hands and was about to slide off the sofa, a second pair of hands start squeezing right above his kneecaps. “Dohohoh’t!” he brings out between his laughter and tries kicking his legs away, but the teasing hands follow expertly. Peter bends over to fend the mean fingers off but makes the mistake of revealing his entire upper body. Sam doesn't wait, digging his fingers into the teen's armpits from behind. With a cackle, Peter falls back onto Sam's lap, where the older man takes the chance to claw into the teen's stomach and ribs, and the whole routine begins anew. By the end of it, Peter lies curled up between the two, red-faced and giggling as he tries catching both their hands, the ending credits of the movie rolling over the screen.
"Peter, the Boss is calling."
Several eyebrows rise in amusement at the speed at which the teen is up and pushes Sam half of the couch to grab his phone.
"Hey kid- did you run a marathon to reach your phone? What happened to your face?"
Peter's face flashes a new shade of red. He glares at Sam and Bucky who make kissy faces in his direction. The teen smiles sweetly at Mr. Stark before he holds a hand over the front camera and turns back, sticking out his tongue in their direction which earns a snort from Clint and a laugh from Steve and Natasha.
"Why did you cover the camera, kid? You're not hiding a house party, are you?"
"Oh, it's nothing, Mr. Stark. I just thought there was some dust on the lens. I’m with the others, we were watching a movie."
Sam shakes his head as he watches the interaction. "What a sneaky little-ow, what the hell!"
He rubs his shoulder, sending Bucky a glare.
Clint across from them wears a smug grin.
"You two are soft like soggy biscuits."
Sam grimaces while Bucky throws the pillow back at the cackling archer.
"It probably counts as a failure of assistance to let the kid sit next to you and get nightmares by watching this kinda stuff," argues Sam, crossing his arms over his chest. Steve huffs in amusement. Their heads turn towards Peter, who animatedly talks as he walks past them and towards his room, a smile painting his face.
"I don't think he's going to get nightmares," the blond says before glancing back at his friends. He grins, looking weirdly proud.
"Thanks to you two."
Read on Ao3
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harrystylesboobear · 1 year ago
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Winning hand
First fic!! I am new, and don't know how to work tumblr so... any advice helps!!
This is a tickle fic btw so if you don't like that sort of thing then keep scrolling!!! Short as it is my first time!
Y/n and Clint are playing a game of crib. Ler Clint Barton, Lee Y/n, Fandom: Marvel Y/n is She/her
Y/n and Clint were playing a game of crib. Y/n suddenly got a really great hand, with a grand total of 24 points . But what made this the greatest hand of her life was the look on clints face when those points made you win and skunk him.
"Clint I beat you! I guess you aren't as good as they say you are. "
she was surprised when she won, because he is quite the crib player, so of course she had to tease him a bit. But she quickly regretted it when she looked up from her winning hand to see the death glare that clint was giving her. She knows this look all too well.
"cLihihnt nohoho dohont"
"Why are you giggling, I didn't even say what im going to do yet" he said slightly giggling at your panic.
"Ihi knohow whahat yohohor gohoing toho doho"
"well you shouldn't of teased me and insulted my crib ego. He said as he quickly pulled you into his lap and dug into your sides
Clihihint!! Stohohopp
"I'm not going to stop until you say that your not going to tell anyone that you won against me! Besides, I know you love thissss." As he said this he switched to wiggling his finger in her armpits. On instinct you closed your arms down effectively trapping his fingers in, and so he wiggled his fingers faster.
CLIHIHINT OHOHOH MYHAHAHY GOHOHOHD
"Aww your blushing"
HAHAHAHHAHA she was just cackling
Clint tried to switch tactics but quickly relised he couldn't as his fingers were trapped.
"yyyy/nnnnn you have to let my fingers outtttt" he said in a sing song voice.
IHIHIHIH CAHAHAANT
Clint slowed his fingers so she could but as soon as she did he dug back in twice as hard
" CLIHIHIHIHINT OHOHOHO MYAYAY GOHOHOHOD" you said in absolute suprise.
" I know im evil"
HAHAHAHAHAH OKOK IHI WOHOHNT TELEHEHELELL ANYHEHEWONENE
Clint had slowly stopped his fingers ad slipped them out of your armpits
'Ohohkay giggles calm down" he said as he rubbed you to get the residue giggles out
" Your so mehehean"
" I know you love it though"
" ugh your so obnoxious"
" I know, and also you can tell whoever you want I really don't care"
' YES! Im telling Tony! He is so never gonna let this go!"
Clint groaned but laughed as you ran away to tell tony.
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chalterdh22 · 23 days ago
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Day 24: Kate and Clint in “Joke” for Augtickletober2024
Summary:  Kate bets she can get Clint to turn red.  Bets on!
Warnings: This is a tickle fic, so if that’s not your thing, don’t read.  All fluff.  Ler: F Lee: M (kind of…)
“Hey!” Kate said to Clint as she sat down next to him on the couch.
“What’s up kid?” 
“Nothing, just wondering something.”
“What?” Clint asked, not even looking at her.
“When Bruce hulks out, does he turn green instantly or gradually?”  Clint looked at her slowly, confused as why he would even ask him that.
“Uh, I don’t know.  I guess I never looked.”
“Do you know I can get someone to turn color instantly?”  She asked, grinning at him.
“Sure kid.  Whatever you say.”
“You wanna bet?”  She stuck her hand out.
He reached and shook it.  “Just don’t throw anything on me, ok.”
She smiled.  “Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Ticklish!”  Clint paused and turned red.  “I win!”
Kate got up and walked away and thought she should have bet him something.  She stopped, turned around to face Clint and he was right behind her.  Kate gasped.
“My turn for a joke!”  Now Kate was red.
The End
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tword-brainrot · 5 months ago
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Another round of Stardew Valley🌻 tickle headcanons!
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(Bachelorette’s edition!)
Apologies about the lateness on this, life was lifing and we’re all still living it 😅
Abigail! 🎃 (Ler-Leaning)
Ler!Abigail
Top tier older sis vibes (also just in general, she’s so cool 🤩)
Def the type to tickle you while playing video games to win
Lord help you if you still win anyways
Sebastian is her main target and she also employs the assistance of Sam to keep him still
“What’s the matter? Can’t handle a few tickles? Too bad!”
Lee!Abigail
For a ler, she is very ticklish
Tables can very easily table and they often do without Sam’s assistance (sometimes with it if Sebastian is convincing enough)
Def a squeaker and will threaten your life if you tell a soul
Visual teasing works a lot better on her so, wiggly fingers are a sure fire way to get her blushing
Worst spot is def her ribs and sides
“W-wait…dohon’t you dahahare!”
Emily! 💎 (Ler-leaning)
Ler!Emily
The cooing is almost too much (almost)
Is absolutely head over heels for a cute Lee, will absolutely Dawn over any kind of snorting or squeaking
Very soft ler, mainly does it for cheering up purposes (also for when Haley is being a bit of a negative Nancy)
Will 100% claim that laughter “naturally reduces toxins”
“Awwww, Look at that smile! That’s more like it, cutie pie!”
Lee!Emily
Not very ticklish but, if you catch her off guard, you may get a giggle or two out of her
Worst spot is probably her stomach, I can imagine she’d attribute this to a chakra or something
Clint has 100% attempted to tickle her but, he either got too nervous and never went through with it or got absolutely sideswiped when she wanted to turn the tables
“Hey, thahahat tickled! But not as much as this will!”
Haley! 🥥 (Begrudging Lee)
Ler!Haley
Very jabby pokey taser type, typically does it out of annoyance to get Alex to shut up or to insight tickles
Pray to god she hasn’t had her nails done recently because she’ll want to make full use of them
Thinks it’s extremely childish and almost beneath her
Will 100% demean you (UwU)
“Not so tough now, huh? It’s pathetic really, the way you’re just crumbling. Makes me want to laugh myself!”
Lee!Haley
BRAT OMFG BRATBRATBRAT
Will curse you out the entire time
Will also thank you after…
As mentioned, typically she’ll insight them by being annoying or starting the fight herself
Will NEVER ask for it, could catch her in the middle of the sewers before that
“Nonononono, You [expletive]! I’ll [expletive] eHeheHend your [expletive] life!!! Stahahahahap!!”
Leah! 🥗 (50/50)
Ler!Leah
Teases with conviction, can break almost any Lee that crosses her
Ruthless but, softly
Will make use of art supplies like paint brushes and has even used Elliott’s own quill against him
Gets into Ler moods and will either wreck Elliott or do anything she can with her hands to take her mind off it
“What’s the matter? Does it tickle more when I tease you for being so cute? Well that’s good! You’ve been needing a good laugh, right?”
Lee!Leah
Absolutely precious laugh, it’s like melodic????
Doesn’t mind asking for it, almost flusters the Ler with her bluntness
Will also compliment the ler throughout
Has no problems keeping still for it!
Worst spot is her palms and her sides are a close second
“As long as your hands aren’t tired, I can keep going! You’re doing a great jAHaHahaA!!!”
Maru! 🤖 (Lee-leaning)
Ler!Maru
A bully, such a wicked teaser
Will tease similarly to Harvey in a sense that she’ll bring science into it
Favorite target is her brooding brother, always puts a smile on her face to put one on his
Very fast movements to keep your laughter at an optimal level
“What about here? Interesting! Most people aren’t ticklish here, that’s so fun! Aren’t you having fun?”
Lee!Maru
She’s got a snorty laugh and you know you’ve got her when she starts to hiccup
Worst spot is under the arms and her ribs (specifically the upper ones)
Is typically too flustered to speak in full sentences and just laughs her heart out
Won’t ask for it but, won’t ask for it to stop either
“Ehehehe!! Nononono!! Plehehease!! *snrk!* naHaAhat thehehere!!!”
Penny! 📖
Is entirely uninterested in the matter and would much rather read her books tbh..
Doesn’t seem like the type to be ticklish at all
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marvelnerdsworld · 2 years ago
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Marvel Head Cannons
I had a small thought and figured I should (since I’m a little bit of a Marvel nerd) put out some of my head cannons ahem lets get started
Wanda Maximoff
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Lets start with the lovely lady herself
1. Ticklishness (Scale of 1-10)
Definitely a 8.5/10 If you know where to get her her ticklishness will go up to a 9.
2. Lee or Ler?
I’d say she’s more of a switch than anything but she defiantly leans more ler due to having a sibling, you defiantly learn a thing or two.
3. If they like tickling who do they like being tickled by?
For her (when she is lee) I’d say Vision, Nat, and Clint. Now when she’s ler she loves to get Nat and Clint because she likes to break their tough façade.
4. What are their most ticklish spots (Rated 1-10)?
Sides-6/10
Ribs-8/10
Tummy-5/10
Neck-6.5/10
Feet-5.5/10
Knees/Behind them-9.5/10
5. Ler Style, their preferred tickles, and what their giggles are like.
I would say when she’s ler she can be very ruthless if you deserved it. An example being if you messed with her while she was cooking or got into the food before she was finished. However when she’s feeling playful her tickles will be very teasy and her accent will be prominent when she’s teasing. 
When she is lee she’s super giggly and adores light playful tickles. Her Sokovian accent will definitely come out when she’s giggling. Her giggles are very soft at first but get very squeaky when you get near one of her bad spots.
First one done give me an idea on who to do next
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amontilla-port · 8 months ago
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Capa - E quando percebi, você estava aqui… (fanfic por @Josenandia)
Mais uma capa feita para uma história da @Josenandia pro projeto WeekMonth. Dessa vez fiz duas versões da capa, que dificilmente eu conseguiria escolher de tanto que gostei.
Informações do pedido de capa: - estilo de capa: sad/dark - tema: "Fim" - protagonista: Viúva Negra - Marvel (UCM)
OBS: a Josenandia escolheu a da esquerda, com a imagem da Natasha sem o recolor vermelho :3
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Fiz ela também na versão retrato/vertical (para WattPad), e fiquei feliz que consegui manter os elementos de forma coesa.
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Nessa, por ser uma sad, para o fundo me apeguei ao conceito das teias de aranha (se emaranhando como sentimentos) com várias gotículas de água (lágrimas?).
Em seguida, precisei fazer algo arremetendo ao Clint, já que ele é uma peça chave dessa one-shot. Optei por uma lembrança boa da Romanoff com o amigo, emaranhada junto com a teia "dela", além da mistura da paleta de cores dela (vermelho) com a dele (roxo).
A teia de sentimentos e lembranças optei por manter em escalas monocromáticas, com o fundo em tons de cinza, e a parte da lembrança dividida pela teia entre roxo (Clint) e vermelho (Natasha), mostrando que, mesmo lutando do mesmo lado, ambos ainda possuíam diferenças (em especial no que tange o passado).
Para a Viúva em destaque, optei por dar um contraste maior nas cores da foto e adicionar uma mancha avermelhada atrás (arremetendo ao sangue derramado por ela, a mancha de seu passado). No fim, me apaixonei em ambos os resultados :3
Quanto aos copyrights:
- As teias do fundo são de uma imagem de uso livre do Unsplash;
- Enquanto as demais imagens presentes são todas da obra original (filmes do UCM).
Por fim, seguem os links de onde você pode encontrar a história para ler:
~ Spirit Fanfics
~ WattPad
Agora acho que retorno por aqui com capa de mais uma fanfic de Tekken (Ou minha, ou da @Naty_Laty) ou com minha primeira capa para o AniVerse.
Até lá, beijos da bruxinha :3
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gigglz · 11 months ago
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Alright so i have some motivation to write a tword fic!!! Yipeeee!! But i dont know what characters to write for!! :( help!! The other poll on my profile is going to be the lee! poll!!
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hir0s4nch3z · 2 years ago
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Mentira
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📚TIPO DE CAP.: Ponto de Vista (POV)
📌CONTEXTO: Depois de utilizar suas habilidades especiais para ajudar os Vingadores a terem sucesso em algumas de suas últimas missões, você foi convocada por Nick Fury a se juntar à equipe.
Como a ocasião não poderia ser de melhor pretexto, Stark promove uma festa de boas-vindas em seu prédio, a qual contava apenas com você e o resto do pessoal.
Todos viram a festividade como uma oportunidade de folga, tendo em vista os dias difíceis que já passaram. Música alta, muitos drinks e risadas faziam a festa que já estava no seu auge quando você se deu conta de algo...
Loki.
Estava tão envolvida com as conversas e taças de champanhe que não percebeu Loki sentado num dos sofás da sala de estar. Parecia ler um livro grosso em meio à música e vozes altas que circulavam o local.
"Hm..." - franze as sobrancelhas, pensativa.
Na verdade, você e o Deus da Trapaça tinham uma relação bem complexa... Algo que te fez pensar ser a razão da reclusão de Loki durante a festividade.
Se sentido culpada, decide então levar para Loki uma bebida e um prato com alguns petiscos, já que durante essas três horas de festa você não percebeu nenhuma movimentação vinda dele além do folear das páginas de seu livro.
"É o mínimo que posso fazer." - você pensa. Afinal, VOCÊ era o motivo daquela festa toda.
No caminho até o bar sente alguém segurar seu braço, então logo se vira para encarar um sorriso largo e amigável.
Era Thor.
Mas por que te segurar assim, de forma tão rígida? Ele parecia ter algo pra dizer...
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A festa tava bombando! Jarvis havia programado uma playlist musical que duraria a noite toda enquanto todos se acabariam de beber e dançar.
Thor estava arrasando, reproduzindo o que - segundo ele - eram passos asgardianos de dança (algo cultural) enquanto Clint mandava passos igualmente singulares (pra não dizer "estranhos");
Bruce e Romanoff estavam no bar preparando alguns drinks enquanto flertavam de forma explícita o suficiente para que ninguém tivesse o atrevimento de incomodá-los;
Tony e Pepper, segurando suas respectivas taças de vinho, se sentaram em um largo sofá, enquanto o agente Nick se sentava numa poltrona posicionada de frente para eles - os três conversando de forma descontraída;
E por último, você e Steve:
-Vai ser bom tê-la na equipe, senhorita (S/N). Seus serviços foram de extrema importância para o sucesso de nossas últimas missões.
Na mão esquerda ele segurava um drink que parecia ser Martini, enquanto em sinal de conciliação estendia a mão direita para apertar a sua.
-É tranquilizador saber que minha extraordinariedade finalmente terá um bom destino. - Você então estende sua mão, dando um aperto firme.
Passaram mais alguns minutos jogando conversa fora: ele falava de missões anteriores às suas, contando como superou inúmeras situações de quase-morte; e você descrevia sua vida antes dos Vingadores e da S.H.I.E.L.D - como era difícil lidar com sua individualidade e não ter um rumo sobre isso.
Papo vem, papo vai e com ele as bebidas em suas mãos. Quando se deram conta já estavam de taças vazias. Só então pararam de fazer contato visual, e foi aí que você percebeu...
O cômodo em que estavam - mais precisamente, a sala de estar - era gigantesco. Havia sofás espaçosos, mesas inteligenges e muitos outros recursos avançados... Toda a mobília tecnológica ajudava o ambiente a ser cada vez mais acomodador.
Mas Loki não parecia desfrutar disso.
Sentado em uma poltrona num canto, lá estava ele. Seu livro em mãos o ajudava a se distanciar de toda a festa que estava acontecendo bem na sua frente.
-Com licença, vou pegar mais um drink. Gostaria de alguma coisa do bar? - Steve fala enquando se inclina para pegar a taça em sua mão.
-Uh... Não. D-Digo, prefiro te acompanhar. - Você gagueja, ainda com os olhos fixados em Loki.
Seu plano era simples: ir até o bar, pegar um drink e um prato de petiscos, e depois levá-los para Loki. Se tudo corresse bem poderiam até desenrolar uma conversa... Quem sabe? Esperava que isso simbolizasse uma trégua entre vocês; Pelo menos por aquela noite.
-Espero que não sejamos um incômodo para Bruce e Natasha. - Steve brinca enquanto te guia até o local, apontando para o casal debruçado no balcão de bebidas.
-Oh, realmente! Eles parecem estar... - Você pondera as palavras, tirando alguns segundos para pensar num jeito delicado de dizer o óbvio - ... se dando bem!
-Você quer dizer "flertando"? - O homem solta um riso de canto, admirando seu recato.
-É, isso também descreve...
Já estavam bem próximos ao bar quando subitamente sentiu um toque em seu ombro; Mãos grandes e firmes, porém ainda era um toque gentil e caloroso. Só poderia ser um de seus amigos mais recentes:
-Thor? - Você pergunta, se virando para encarar a figura alta e de cabelos loiros.
-Gostaria de um minuto da sua atenção, senhorita (S/N). - Ele sorri - Capitão, se importa se eu roubá-la por um instante?
-Isso �� ela quem decide. - Lança uma piscadela, deixando a decisão em suas mãos.
-Tudo bem, claro! - Acena com a cabeça - Capitão, se puder me fazer o favor de levar meu copo... Acho que vou parar com as bebidas por hoje. - Você entrega o utensílio vazio para seu, até então, companheiro.
Se distanciando com as duas taças na mão, Steve vai a caminho do bar, deixando você e o Deus do Trovão para terem uma conversa um tanto quanto reveladora.
-Então... O que está achando da festa? - Ele puxa o assunto.
-Maravilhosa! É bom ver que todos estão se divertindo tanto! - Você fala, alegre.
Estavam de pé, um ao lado do outro. De onde se encontravam dava para ver todos os seus amigos: uns dançando, outros bebendo, alguns conversando... Você e Thor não puderam evitar de sorrir ao assistir à cena.
-Stark fez questão de convidar todos da equipe. Parece que ele realmente gostou da senhorita...
-B-Bom, me sinto honrada... Ainda mais por todos terem comparecido. - Não pôde evitar de olhar para a figura excluída de Loki. Estava feliz por ele estar ali, mas mesmo assim seu rosto transparecia culpa por sua reclusão.
Conseguiam ver tudo: Natasha e Bruce sendo interrompidos por Steve, o qual parecia brincar com a situação; Clint na pista de dança, requebrando como se não houvesse um amanhã; e Tony lançando comentários cômicos sobre seus colegas enquanto Pepper e Fury tentam não dar risadas muito altas.
Depois de um curto tempo admirando sua equipe embriagada e agitada, Thor finalmente vai ao assunto:
-Sabe... Eu notei. - Ele diz baixinho e de forma disfarçada, como para que mais ninguém além de você ouvisse.
-Notou o quê? - Diz, confusa.
-O jeito que olha para meu irmão. - Seu tom transparecia obviedade.
Você tenta não demonstrar, mas foi pega de surpresa; Seus músculos tencionaram e sua postura enrijeceu. Como ele saberia dizer? Fazia parte da equipe havia poucos meses... Mal conhecia o pessoal.
Ajeitando a postura tensa em que se encontrava, tenta não demonstrar abalo:
-Não sei do que está falando. - Diz num tom de voz indiferente.
-Ora, por favor... Até o homem mais tolo seria capaz de enxergar o jeito que olha para ele. - Ele pausa, te encarando de lado - Se não tem interesse romântico, pelo menos se sente intrigada pela sua presença.
Na defensiva, você rebate:
-E como não me intrigar? Um homem com tamanha ambição... Seria admirável, se não fosse temível.
-Entendo. - Balança a cabeça, assentindo - Então talvez eu tenha me enganado ao pensar que se sente culpada pela posição em que meu irmão se encontra durante esse momento de comemoração.
-C-Como sabe que eu-
-Já disse. Até o homem mais tolo seria capaz de enxergar o jeito que olha para ele... Mas seu olhar preocupado e piedoso te entregou de bandeja. - Diz num tom brincalhão.
Respirando fundo, Thor se vira para você. Sua expressão estava séria, mas mesmo assim ainda conseguia sentir seu ar cômico e reconfortante de sempre.
-Só vim aqui te dar os parabéns pela entrada triunfal em nossa equipe. - Ele aperta sua mão.
-O-Obrigada...
-E também vim te alertar de que aquilo que você vê sentado naquela poltrona... - Aponta para a imagem concentrada de seu irmão - ...não é o Loki.
Uma interrogação se formou em seu rosto. Como não era ele? Estava bem ali, na sua frente.
-Desculpe, acho que não estou entendendo. Como o Loki não é... - Você pausa - ... O Loki?
Seu rosto dócil e palavras inocentes arrancavam um olhar piedoso vindo do Deus do Trovão. Então ele responde:
-Meu irmão é portador de truques que desafiam a compreensão de toda Midgard... Ilusão projetada é um deles.
-Espera, então aquilo não passa de uma ilusão?
-Tecnicamente, sim. Vocês humanos têm nomes mais apropriados para descrever isso, como clone, réplica, duplicata...
-Fala sério... E eu aqui me preocupando com ele! - Fechando os punhos, você demonstra irritação.
-Entendo sua ira. Já estive no seu lugar por centenas de vezes até que finalmente aprendi a distinguir seus truques ilusórios do que de fato é real.
Você olha para o rosto de Thor, incrédula. Então pergunta:
-Essa cópia é idêntica ao Loki... Como soube distinguir?
Com um ar de orgulho, responde:
-Meu irmão é um exímio leitor. Jamais demoraria mais de três horas para ler um livro como aquele... Nem se quisesse.
-Oh.
Vocês dois ficam calados por alguns poucos segundos enquanto encaram o clone de Loki foleando as páginas do livro repousante em seu colo.
Queria poder abstrair essa informação e seguir com a festa, mas algo martelava na sua cabeça. Uma dúvida incessante.
Era tímida demais para perguntar diretamente ao autor da duplicata, então lançou a pergunta para a pessoa mais próxima dele: seu irmão, Thor.
-Thor... Eu não entendo.
E com sua voz grave como um trovão ele rapidamente tenta sanar sua suposta dúvida:
-Tudo bem não entender. Aqui no seu mundo coisas como essa são praticamente inexplicáveis-
-Não. Não é isso... - Seu tom rígido fez o deus finalmente levar a conversa a sério.
-Então qual é a sua dúvida?
-É só que... - Pausa a fala, pensativa - Por que ele faria isso? Digo, ele tinha a opção de não vir até aqui; Não participar da festa. Não vejo o porquê de se dar o trabalho de criar uma réplica apenas pra que fique sentada a noite inteira.
-Hm... Entendo sua pergunta, embora a resposta para esta seja óbvia demais. - Ele cruza os braços, logo lançando um sorriso de canto.
-Então diga, já que é tão óbvio assim. - Você também cruza os braços, irritada.
Esperando por uma resposta áspera ou um motivo inteiramente egoísta, você franze as sobrancelhas.
Esperava, na verdade, por qualquer resposta... Menos essa:
-Ele se importa com você.
E como numa fração de segundos a sua carranca se desfaz, revelando bochechas quentes e olhos brilhantes.
-O-O quê...? - Sua voz era macia. Não pôde evitar a felicidade em seu tom.
-Todos aqui nesta sala conseguem enxergar a inocência de seus sentimentos, (S/N)...
-Eu... Não estou entendendo o que você quer dizer.
-O que quero dizer é que suas emoções são óbvias para todos... Inclusive para Loki. - Thor descruza os braços, apoiando suas mãos grandes em seus ombros pequenos - Ele sabia que você se sentiria mal se ele não viesse; se culparia por sua ausência. Por isso criou a duplicata, para que você se divertisse sem maiores preocupações. Mas pelo visto você arranjou um outro jeito de se culpar, não é?
-E por que ele se importaria com isso...? Quero dizer, não temos exatamente a relação mais aberta do mundo.
-Pelo mesmo motivo que você se importou com ele há alguns momentos atrás...
E com isso você silencia, captando a indireta de Thor. Com sua mente pensando em tanta coisa ao mesmo tempo era difícil ter uma reação imediata. O que dizer? O que fazer?
De uma coisa você sabia: apenas você e Loki poderiam resolver essa situação. Ninguém mais.
Tinha plena consciência de que ele era sinônimo de encrenca, mas mesmo assim... Mesmo assim não podia evitar.
Engolindo a timidez e ignorando as bochechas vermelhas você lança sua última pergunta:
-Se ele não está de fato aqui... Onde está? - Seu olhar determinado denunciava seus próximos atos.
-Ir atrás de um diálogo com ele não é uma boa opção, (S/N). Às vezes ele pode ser impiedoso com as palavras...
-Então acho que vou ter que pagar para ver... Agora me diga, onde ele está?
-Ah... - Suspirando, diz - Como eu saberia? Loki é o Deus da Trapaça, o que faz dele imprevisível até mesmo para mim.
-Não tem nenhuma ideia de onde eu devesse procurar?
-É claro que tenho, mas é de Loki que estamos falando. O lugar mais provável para ele estar seria o último lugar em que ele estaria.
-E qual seria esse lugar...?
Parecia determinada a achá-lo para colocar as coisas em ordem entre vocês dois.
É bem verdade que a sua relação era bastante... Excêntrica. Isso pra dizer o mínimo.
Ao mesmo tempo que evadiam ao máximo seu encontro - sempre evitando estar no mesmo recinto em que o outro se encontrava -, quando estavam juntos era como se algo mágico acontecesse.
Uma magia que Loki havia jamais sentido... Uma a qual nem o melhor de seus truques pudesse reproduzir.
Você sabe o que quero dizer, não é? Olhares lascivos e respiração acelerada; Corações num só rítmo enquanto sentem um arrepio satisfatório pelo corpo todo; Um calor incontrolável que toma conta de seus corpos e seus pensamentos...
Obviamente esse era um sentimento estranho para ele; Algo inteiramente novo. Talvez por isso ele reagisse de forma agressiva e irônica toda vez que te dirigia a palavra ou sequer estivesse no mesmo lugar em que você estava.
Enquanto isso, pra quem está de fora a visão é praticamente apocalíptica: Vocês vivem em guerra um com o outro. Como deu pra perceber, geralmente é ele quem começa as brigas - mas você também não deixa barato; O que, por incrível que pareça, parecia satisfazer vocês dois... Era como se a cada nova briga o fogo da paixão aumentasse.
É claro que depois de muito assistir às suas discussões e conflitos, todos da equipe perceberam que esse era um jeito feroz de demonstrarem interesse um pelo outro.
Vocês atendiam bem ao famoso fenômeno "Entre tapas e beijos"...
A química era inegável, é verdade, mas os dois sabiam que as chances de darem certo eram mínimas.
Nada colaborava para o romance: Você era milhares de anos mais nova que ele (literalmente), além do fato de serem de planetas diferentes; Seus pensamentos muitas vezes divergem, o que ocasiona brigas constantes entre vocês; Além de que, para ele, você era inocente demais.
Ele via pureza em você. Via heroísmo. E esses com certeza não eram adjetivos atribuídos a ele.
De forma resumida, a sua relação é beeeeem complicada...
-Você não desiste fácil, não e mesmo? - O Deus do Trovão coça a nuca, já sabendo a resposta que receberia.
-Não.
-Ah... Tudo bem, você venceu. - Suspirando, ele logo diz - Quando éramos jovens, Loki sempre evitou festas e jogatinas... Enquanto eu bebia e lutava com meus amigos no grande salão de comemorações, ele se refugiava na prestigiada biblioteca de Asgard junto de cutões de poeira e livros velhos.
-Biblioteca de Asgard, huh...
Você se concentra por alguns segundos, pensando nas palavras de seu amigo. Depois de muito raciocinar, chega à uma conclusão:
-Biblioteca... É isso! Deve haver alguma biblioteca nesse prédio, não é?
Seu tom esperançoso fazia Thor repensar se fez a coisa certa ao te contar... Ele sabia o que te aguardava, só não sabia se você era forte o suficiente para aguentar.
-Obrigada, Thor!
Você se despede de seu amigo com um aperto de mão, agradecendo pela ajuda.
Teria uma longa noite pela frente...
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✍️Esse capítulo ficou grande, né? Kkkkk! Mas e aí, qual individualidade você usaria para ajudar os Vingadores? Me conta nos comentários!
Aproveita que já vai comentar e me diz se quer uma parte 2 desse capítulo ou se prefere ele assim mesmo, deixando o desfecho para a imaginação de vocês.
Espero que tenham gostado da leitura...
Abraços do autor! 🤭
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widowsistersandfriends · 2 years ago
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Tickle Traditions
Request: Can I request a Clint x family x Kate fic, maybe it’s set when Kate comes home with Clint for Christmas and she learns all about their traditions specifically their Christmas tickle fight? 🥰 (if you don’t want to write this prompt that’s totally ok!! Xo)
Note: To the person who sent this prompt, I am so sorry it took so long to get to. However, I think this was a good time to write it! It was a really cute prompt, and I hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!
Word Count: 1077
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It was cold and snowing outside, as a familiar car pulled up in front of the Barton household. Kate hopped out of the passenger side, helping Clint unload all the gifts for his family. 
“So where’s my present?” Kate asked jokingly.
“Me bringing you here is already a gift,” Clint replied, knowing that by now Kate understood his sarcasm and snarkiness.
Kate smiled to herself, eager to spend Christmas with the Bartons for the first time in a while.
“Hello Kate, it’s so nice to see you again,” Laura said sincerely, opening the door for the two archers.
“DADDY!” Nate cried out, running over to hug his father. Clint set the presents down and picked up his youngest son, who was giggling with excitement.
Cooper and Lila came over, both giving Kate and Clint hugs. 
After the hugs and greetings, they all sat down in the family room, drinking hot coco. 
“So Kate, I know you haven’t been here for many Christmases, so I haven’t been able to teach you all of our traditions,” Clint said, breaking the silence.
“I’d love to learn all of your traditions!” Kate said excitedly.
“We like to build snowmen!” Nate cheered excitedly.
“No, the best part is the snowball fight!” Cooper chimed in.
“I like baking and decorating cookies the best!” Lila said, as Clint nodded in agreement.
“Me too Lila. It’s the least rowdy of them all,” Clint said, as Kate rolled her eyes playfully.
“What should we start with first? Kate, why don’t you choose?” Laura suggested.
“I think I want to start with making cookies,” Kate said, as Lila high fived her.
A few hours later, there were delicious cookies cooling down on the table. A mix of chocolate chip, sugar, and peanut butter cookies awaited. They each took a sugar cookie and began decorating it, with a variety of colored icing and sprinkles.
After decorating their own cookies, they sat down to enjoy them with glasses of milk to go with it.
“These cookies are delicious!” Nate shouted, sporting a milk mustache with crumbs on his face.
Kate giggled at the messy boy, ruffling his hair to add on to the cuteness.
After enjoying the cookies, the six of them went outside to build snowmen.
Kate made hers an archer, after herself, and was proud of her work.
“You forgot something on your snowman,” Clint said flatly.
“First of all, it’s a snowwoman. And second of all, it’s perfect,” Kate replied, turning her nose in the air.
“No, if it’s made after you then you forgot the goofy grin on its face,” Clint replied with a smirk.
“I don’t have a goofy grin!” Kate exclaimed, as she was hit in the stomach with a snowball.
“OOF!” The archer doubled over.
“Who threw that?!?” Kate questioned, with the silly, goofy grin that Clint was talking about.
“See, there it is. All you need to do is add it,” Clint said while laughing.
“Oh that’s it,” Kate said, throwing a snowball at Clint, as Cooper declared a snowball fight. 
Snowballs were fired, as everyone tried their best to dodge them. Kate snuck around, hiding behind a bush, waiting for her chance.
She saw Clint was distracted, so she quickly snuck up behind him and dumped snow down his back.
“AAAHHH,” Clint yelped, as Kate quickly ran towards the kids to protect herself.
“Oh you’ve done it Kate,” Clint said, shaking his head with a smile. 
“You guys are on my side, right?” Kate asked the kids.
“No!” Nate shouted bluntly.
Kate’s eyes widened, as she was then chased inside of the house, where the three kids tackled her onto the couch. 
“What are you—AHAHAHAAHAHAHA,” Kate laughed, as she was now being tickled by all three Batron children.
“We forgot to tell you about our traditional Christmas tickle fight,” Lila said, as they tickled all over her upper body.
Clint eventually came inside, helping pin Kate while the kids continued to tickle her.
“NOHOHOHO THIHIHIS IHIHISN’T FAHAHAIR,” Kate yelled out.
“Hey this is on you. You put snow down my back,” Clint replied, now letting her up and temporarily having mercy.
Kate now got her revenge, tickling the kids worse than she got. 
Their laughter rang out throughout the house, mixed with squeals and lots of shouting.
“Clint, you’re the only one who hasn’t been tickled,” Kate said teasingly.
Before Clint could escape, Kate and the kids pinned him, as Kate began to tickle his armpits.
“KAHAHAHTE NOHOHOHOHO,” Clint cried out, unable to squirm away, as his children were stronger than he thought.
“Awwww the big bad archer can’t handle a little tickling?” Kate asked, now tickling his stomach and sides.
Clint was lost in laughter, as Kate switched off with the kids so they could also torture him.
They eventually let him go, as he lay there panting.
Kate quickly tried to run away, but Clint caught her foot, causing her to trip and fall facing downwards.
Clint quickly pinned her, digging into her ribs and sides, causing the poor girl to squeal with laughter.
“CLIHIHIHINT STAHAHAHAHAHAP,” Kate screamed, squirming to get away unsuccessfully. 
“Welcome to the family tradition!” Clint said teasingly, as Kate was still hysterically giggling and laughing.
Clint began to tickle her armpits, while the kids got her sensitive feet.
“OHOHOKAY MEHEHEHERCY PLEHEHEHEASE,” Kate cried out, as they eventually let her up.
“That was fun!” Nate said, as Clint pulled him into his lap to give him a few more tickles, making the little boy squeal with laughter. 
Kate threw a playful glare at Clint, as he just shrugged.
“I think we all know Kate’s favorite Christmas tradition,” Clint said, as Kate rolled her eyes playfully.
“You’re lucky I’m nice,” Kate said, giving Clint a look of warning.
“Nice? You’re the one putting snow down my back,” Clint retorted.
Kate pouted in defeat, knowing that if she said the wrong thing, she would get tickled to pieces again.
After a few moments of silence, Kate spoke up.
“Thank you for having me over for Christmas. I really enjoyed all the traditions,” Kate said shyly.
“Anytime Kate. You’re always welcome here,” Laura responded.
“And she makes a great tickle target,” Lila teased, as Kate reached out to tickle the younger girl.
With that, round two of the traditional Christmas tickle fight resumed, filling the air with laughter. Kate knew that she had finally found her place, and Clint knew that he had just gained an extra child.
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valiantphantomangel · 2 years ago
Note
hey! here’s a sentence starter for ya!! ik u wanna do ler!bucky&steve and lee!reader, so maybe they could like get mad at the reader for eating the last two cookies, and then chase them around and end up tickling them to pieces on the couch!! :D
sentence starter: “wait… steve, why are the last two cookies gone? did you eat them?”
Yes!!! I love this!!
Hope you like it💟
The cookie thief
Tumblr media
"Wait... Steve, why are the last two cookie's gone, did you eat them?".
You were just about to walk into the common room with a cookie box in your hand when you heard bucky say that, quickly looking at the front of the box you saw in very clear letter's 'property of the super soldiers'.
Dammit why didn't I see that you cursed, taking the sugar from them was almost as serious when someone took Thor's pop tarts.
Looking for a good place to hide the evidence was a jacket from Clint hanging there. Perfect.
Hiding the box was a bit tricky since the stupid guy wore such thin jacket's but it worked.
Trying to act casually, you walked to the kitchen to get something to eat and sure enough double trouble was there.
"Hey guys" you said trying very hard not to let your voice crack.
"oh hey Y/N have you seen if anyone has taken out cookie box"? Steve said it like it was a war crime which made it even harder not to laugh.
"Now that you mention it, i did see Clint walking past me with a cookie box, but I'm not sure if it was yours".
By dumb luck you knew that no one was on a mission which came in handy when it was needed to blame someone.
The two super soldiers's speed walked away and a few minutes later Clint's bright laugh ring around in the compound, letting out a small laugh you opened the fridge, sneaking out a cola.
Sitting down on one of the many couche you zapped through the channel's until you found f/s (favorite show) and laid back in the couch cushions.
About two episodes later Steve and buck came in, when they sat on either side of you, panic started to set in.
"So did you find your sweets"? You innocently asked.
"Yes we did and found out something very interesting when we tortured Barton" bucky replied, with that very troubling smirk.
You swallowed, "Really"?
"When Barton was in need of a break he said something of quit importance, what was it again Steve"
"I believe it was "It was Y/N" he screamed it very loud, do you know why he would say that"?
"N no" damn why would I stutter now!!
"We think you do and besides" buck leaned forward and whispered in your ear "You have the crumbs on your hoodie".
Knowing that there wasn't a second to waste you jumped to your feet and made run for it.
The thundering of their footsteps was nerve wracking, a place to hide that it what you needed and fast.
Deciding that your closet was so obvious which made it the safest you hide there.
After about 10 minutes it was silent in the hallway, no footsteps, no whispering, no nothing.
The coast was clear.
Knowing that if you made it to the lab, thanks to your clearance, you could lock down the lab.
Getting out of the closet as quickly as possible, the journey to the lab began.
Sneaking was never one of your talents, but when it's needed everything becomes a talent, making the echo's of your footsteps silent and ducking away when there was another pair of footsteps, was doing very well.
The lab was right around the corner, you almost made it, almost.
"Well, well, well what do we have here" you jumped at the sound of Steve's voice, before you could even make a step you were trapped in a bear hug.
"Bucky, i got our little thief" he screamed and not a minute later mister smug face came around the corner.
Steve laced his hands in your ribs and a scream of laughter came over your lips, knees bucking from underneath you.
The stupid ass soldiers immediately pinned you down on your back and attacked your weak spots.
"AHHHHAHAHHAHAHA IMHIHIHI SORRY"
"What was that Y/N i didn't hear you" buck said blowing a raspberry on your tummy making you arch your back.
"I SAID IM SORRY AHHHHAHAHHAHAHA STOPPHHAHAHA"
"Look at you all cute and adorable" Steve said pinching your knees.
"I see you found her" said Clint from the doorway.
"Ah Barton would you like some revenge".
"HELP AHAHAHAHAHA" you screamed out hoping that he would have mercy.
"I dont really need revenge" and he walked away "But before you let her go make sure that she has all of her ribs" the grin in his voice was easily heard.
The one dead spot that only Clint knew was on the bottom ribs and the bastard basically just told them that.
"DAMNNHAHAHAHAHA YOU CLINTHIHIIH"
Your tormenters looked at each other and with out saying a word the duck into the bottom ribs.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA" the scream of laughter that came over your libs echoed through the halls.
After a few minutes of torture you fell into silent laughter and they let up.
"You good kid" buck asked, you only huffed in responsible causing the soldiers to laugh.
A pair of arms lifted you of the ground and carried you back to the common room, where the were watching Harry Potter.
They set you next to Thor who wharped a arm around you.
"What happend to you young one" he asked with a laugh.
"Stole some cookies didn't end well" you mumbled and the god let out a loud laugh.
"What did you do to her"? Nat asked
"She stole our cookies so we tickled the hell out of her" buck answered.
"Language".
Secretly you enjoyed every second of it and believe me the two assholes knew very well.
A/N yes finally finished this fic, it was the first time doing such a long fic but i believe it turned out okay.
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inneedofsupervision · 1 year ago
Text
No Spilling Secrets
Spiderman/Avengers fanfic: Lee Peter / Ler Clint, Sam & Bucky
I kinda live for the idea of there being a thin line of Peter being a genius and a clumsy baby. This is probably the siliest fanfic I've ever written, but I wanted it to be less sober. Please let me know what you think.
Summary: It was supposed to be a chill and fun Tuesday afternoon, testing the new web-shooters. Well, until Peter found himself pulling the dumbest stunt of his sixteen-year short life apart from getting bitten by a radioactive spider.
Read on Ao3
"Friday, what are the risks of this blowing up on me?"
"The risks of the web shooters malfunctioning sits at 27%, Peter."
Peter carries a smug grin as he fastens the devices around his wrists, waiting for the click that tells him they are locked in place.
"Good thing 27 is my lucky number."
"Mr. Stark said to wait until he is back from his meeting-"
"Friday, come on," interrupts Peter with a whine. "I'm Spiderman. I use them every day. I'll have it under control, promise."
There is a short silence before Friday answers, sounding as unpleased as an AI can sound. "Mr. Stark will be informed as soon as you're safety is not warranted, Peter."
"Thank you, Friday! Couldn't ask for more," answers Peter with a bright grin. He had waited all day to test the new web shooters, annoying MJ as he wouldn't stop talking about it with Ned at lunch. He also didn't bother throwing the suit on, coming directly from the lab to the training grounds. As soon as the doors close behind him, Peter doesn't waste more time and jogs over to the wall that lies on the opposite. A few meters before reaching it, he speeds up and jumps. He crawls upwards with skilled movements. 
"Let's see how these babies work."
With those words, Peter pushes himself from the wall and lets his arm shoot forward. A string of spiderwebs flings against one of the ceiling beams, hitting it with scary accuracy. Peter's fingers close around the web, and he uses the momentum to swing through the air. He lands with practiced ease on the ceiling beam at the other end of the gym, glancing down at his wrists with a thoughtful look. "The tensile strength is not bad, but I thought the elasticity would be better. Friday, can you please note that I have to look into that?"
"Noted, Peter."
"Thanks, Fri."
He continues testing the limits of the new webs by swinging around and jumping from high places to get a feeling for the strings' consistency, leaving it to Friday to take notes as he voices out his thoughts. Peter was about to climb down, satisfied with the information he had collected when something caught his eye. He squints at the ceiling near the bracing where the beam he stands on mends into the roof.
"Is that an arrow?"
As he steps closer, his suspicion is confirmed. The thing hanging from the ceiling is indeed one of Hawkeye's arrows. "How does no one notice that thing is still here?", wonders the teen loudly. It wasn't like Clint to leave his stuff lying around. Or, stuck in the ceiling in this case. 
He stood on his tiptoes and reached for the shaft of the arrow, his inhuman sense of balance the only measure to keep the teen from tumbling down and breaking his neck. 
"I recommend being careful, Peter. Those are one of Mr. Barton's new smoke-"
Peter didn't get the last few words as his fingers closed around the arrow, a winning grin growing as he gave the weapon a strong pull. The second his spidey sense goes off, he already holds one part of the arrow in his hands and stumbles when the air around him fills with a thick smock. He trips backward, trying hastily to get out of the space that fills with murky haze. Standing on nothing more than a two-inch wide metal pole, his next step back ends with his foot hitting nothing but thin air. With a surprised shout ripping from his mouth, the boy fell backward. Peter's arms flail around uselessly. In his panic, he blindly shoots a web upwards with both web shooters, praying that one of them would hit to keep him from busting his head. Both strings succeeded at sticking but in the most inconvenient way possible. In the chaos of the situation, Peter's aim had been off, causing the webs to ravel together as they lay diagonally on top of each other, sticking together as soon as they came in contact. Peter feels sick as the movement of his fall causes him to circle around like a spinning top, putting the ability of his stomach to keep his lunch to the test. 
He ended up coming to a halt a few centimeters over the ground, dangling just above the floor, and although he knew his injuries would have healed quickly, he was more than happy to not have hit the ground, because that fall would have hurt like a bitch. To his luck, he had grabbed the web quick enough to avoid popping a shoulder, but with the newly developed webbing being more sticky and drying later than anticipated, he found himself stuck with bound wrists.
Peter's mouth stands open as he openly gapes, blinking a couple of times as the last few seconds start closing up on him before a low whine emits from the depths of his throat, heat rushing into his face.
"Holy frick. That was one of the most embarrassing things to ever happen to me."
"Should I inform Mr. Stark?"
"Oh my God, are you nuts- ehm, I mean, no. Please don't. That's- that is really not necessary, Fri."
"If you say so, Peter."
He glances up at his wrists, assessing the situation. The web was enclosing his wrists completely, only his fingers sticking out of the gooey mess that hangs over his head. There was a solvent inside the web shooters, but he couldn't reach the trigger to spray it, a thick layer of web fluid lying on top. Peter puffs his cheeks before putting all his strength into his arms, trying to bust through the net. His face grew red with the force he put into his arms only to sack together in defeat. 
Maybe the new webs are a tiny bit stronger than anticipated. Spiderman usually had no problem ripping his webs up, but dangling in the air and having his wrists bound at an awkward angle, Peter had a difficul time concentrating enough power to push through the strings. Peter throws a longing look at his backpack. If he could only get his hands on it. He always had a small amount of solvent in there for emergencies. 
Peter lets out a sigh. 
He needs help.
But not from Mr. Stark. Anyone but Mr. Stark. He wasn't ready for that level of embarrassment to hit on a simple Tuesday afternoon.
"Friday, can you ask Bruce if he has some time?"
"Dr. Banner is currently not in the tower. Would you like me to call him?"
"No, no thanks. What about Natasha?"
"Ms. Romanoff is currently not available."
Okay, now Peter realizes he does have a bit of a problem. While glancing up at his hands and testing again but without success the hold on his wrists, he contemplates how he could get out of this situation. Maybe if he manages to swing his feet upwards and wrap his legs around the string, he might manage to climb back up.
"Wow, how did the spider end up caught in his own web?"
Peter's eyes dart to the person who stands leaning relaxed at the doorframe of the gym, eyebrows raised in silent amusement.
"Clint, can you please help me?"
There was a fifty percent chance to get out of this unharmed if Peter played it right. He puts on the most hopeful and pitiful expression he can muster, silently begging the archer to show mercy. The corner of Clint's lip curls into a smirk that leaves Peter wondering if he did wrong in asking Clint to help out everyone. Not that he had much variety to choose from. 
"Those are some cute puppy dog eyes you've got there, kid," comments the man as he walks over to Peter. "Any idea how to get you out?"
"There is some solvent in my backpack."
Clint turns and collects the bag. He pulls it open and roams through it while stepping back to Peter.
"How did you even end up like that?" the archer asks before pulling a small vial from the back and showing it to the dangling teen, who nods in confirmation. At the question, Peter pulls a grimace.
"I'd rather not talk about it."
Clint looks up from the vial, a spark of interest glinting in his eyes. Catching on Clint's expression, Peter feels dread settling into the pit of his stomach. That had been the wrong answer. 
"You don't want to talk about it?" asks Clint, and Peter keeps himself from whining as he watches the man putting the backpack down instead of helping him get the web off. The archer levels him with a knowing smirk, slipping the vial into his back pocket before crossing his arms over his chest. Peter knew that expression. He was 50% fucked.
"Care to explain what you mean by that?"
Peter didn't like how Clint's smile grew into a shit-eating grin as he tried pulling out an acceptable answer without adding fuel to the fire.
 
"Ehm, it's not that interesting, really. I wouldn't want to bother you with that story."
"I bet it was embarrassing," cuts Clint off, shifting his weight onto his right leg as he leans back, not looking like he's planning to help Peter anytime soon.
"Like I said, I'd rather not talk about it," mumbles Peter, avoiding the man's eyes. How the heck is he supposed to get out of this?
Clint was clearly enjoying this.
"I'll help you if you tell me what happened."
Yeah, no. Peter won't serve Clint high-class premium blackmail material of himself on a silver plate, thank you very much. Sensing the teen wouldn't spill, Clint let his hands fall as he stepped towards the teen, grin growing mischievous in a way that left the hairs on Peter's neck turn straight. 
"Peter, I'm a trained spy and assassin. I have ways to make people talk. Now, do you want to tell me how you ended up like this?"
Peter knew Clint wouldn't hurt him, but the threat of what was about to come sent a shiver down his spine. 
"Threatening teenagers now? That's low even for you, Barton," says Peter and tries to play the awful nervousness that spreads inside of him off, but Clint's trained eyes could read his unease like an open book. There was a reason Peter wears a mask when he fights. He sucks at keeping a straight face.
Clint chuckles before giving Peter a light push to the chest. The teen bites his lips as the spy's move acts like a reminder of the situation he's currently in, swinging helplessly back and forth, feet still hovering inches over the gym floor. His swinging stops with Clint grabbing the front of his shirt, keeping him from moving and simultaneously pulling him closer, bringing his mouth near his ear.
 
"Spill, little Spider," he whispers with a mock-threatening voice, but that was still enough to make Peter feel more than slightly on the edge. But he wouldn't back down now, not when the last shreds of his dignity are at stake. 
"Over my dead body."
"Oh, Petey-pie," taunts Clint as he lets go of Peter's shirt, causing the teen to swing back. "I'll make you talk. Just you wait."
Peter eyes the man warily, who stretches his hand out, pressing it flat against his stretched-out midriff. He is left with no time to wonder what the archer was playing at when the fingers of the hand twitch suddenly, digging lightly into the flesh of his stomach. The movement makes him flinch violently, not expecting the ticklish spark shooting through his middle. His eyes dart up, ready to tell Clint to take his hand from him when he catches the man's expression. 
He gulps.
Clint's face splits into an evil grin, and it dawns on Peter that the twitch of Clint's hand had not been an accident. 
"What's gotten you so squirmy, Peter? You don't happen to be ticklish, do you?"
Flipping hell.
Clint knew exactly, how ticklish Peter was. 
"That would be severely inconvenient, wouldn't it? You seem rather helpless right now."
Every muscle in the teen's body tenses at the words as his eyes are glued on Clint's hands that reach out for his sides. 
"You can make this stop whenever you're ready," suggests Clint with the same shit-eating grin as before, hands around Peter's sides, ready to squeeze. Peter bites his lip to keep the tale-telling smile that threatens to slip onto his face in place. He could already feel Clint's fingers on his skin, knowing all too well what was about to come, and the anticipation was killing him. Clint seemed to know that too, the amused glint in his eyes making it harder for Peter to keep a straight face. 
To Clint's credit, the spy gave him a few moments to change his mind before he started his attack. 
The teen flinches as two hands tweak at his sides experimentally. A ticklish jolt ran through his whole body, and the muscles of his arms tensed up on instinct, but it didn't help make the squeezing that followed less ticklish. 
"Are we trying to play tough?" teases Clint as he searches Peter's face for reactions, the latter biting his lips to keep from making noise. The chances of Clint stopping were low, but Peter's only hope was that the archer would get bored if he didn't break and let him go. 
"Oh, Pete, you sure you want to do this? We both know how to get you to talk. All it takes is a little bit of this."
Peter didn't have time to wonder what kind of evil scheme the archer was planning. Even though his spidey sense warned him of something approaching, Peter couldn't do much in his current position but flinch like he got electroshocked when ten fingers unceremoniously dug into his rips. His facade crumbles instantly, loud laughter rolling from his lips as he flails around, trying to pull himself away from the wriggling diggets.
"Clihihhihihnt nohohohoh!" protests the teen through a wave of giggles before collapsing into himself when Clint claws at his stomach, vibrating his fingers into the sensitive area and sending the teen into a fit. 
"Clint, yes!", teases Clint, mimicking Peter's high-pitched voice, grinning at the teen squirming helplessly under his tickling fingers. 
"I didn't know our training included Spiderman."
Peter thanks whoever for getting a moment to suck in some oxygen when Clint lets up from him to glance over his shoulder. 
"Oh, it doesn't. But I think training can wait. I have found something better than that."
"Something better than handing Sam his ass? I'm in."
Peter's head snaps up at the voices of the two newcomers. Peeking over Clint's shoulders, he catches sight of Sam and Bucky, clad in their training equipment, walking into the gym. His eyes fall back onto Clint, whose grin resembles a Cheshire cat when he sees Peter's expression and realizes who just joined them. 
Now he was 1001% fucked. 
Peter gulps when Bucky and Sam stand next to Clint, carrying similar amused but confused stricken expressions.
"Hell, how did you end up like that?" asks Sam, looking up at the string that keeps Peter in place. Clint pats him on the shoulder, shaking his head as if Peter were a lost cause.
"Don't try asking him. It seems there is some hot tea about how Pete-Pie ended up like this. Must be one hella funny story, but the squirt won't spill."
Sam snorts at Clint's words, eyeing the pitiful teen with a grin. The annoying bird-man found his predicament amusing and didn't even try to hide it.
"So you decided to torment him?"
Clint shrugs his shoulders as if the answer to that is obvious. Bucky crosses his arms, both metal and flesh bulging under his shirt at the movement as he gives a thoughtful look but not less amused than Sam. 
"Why didn't you ask Friday if there is a video recording of it?"
At those words, Peter's eyes went wide. His reaction doesn't go unnoticed, and Clint's eyes sparkle at the realization that Bucky just found the answer. 
Oh, hell no, he won't let that happen. 
Before the spy can step into action, Peter all but shouts at the ceiling. 
"Friday, activate protocol FTE-5!"
He waits with bated breath before Friday's voice echoes through the gym.
"Protocol FTE-5 is now activated."
The teen sags into himself in relief, chin leaning down onto his chest. That had been way too close for his liking. A finger pushes against his middle, making him flinch before looking up and into Sam's face, who looks down at him with a raised eyebrow. 
"Hey now, what did you just do, kid?"
Sam squints at him. 
"Nothing," Peter replies quickly, pointedly avoiding eye contact with the man. Clint eyes the teen hanging in front of him suspiciously. Peter didn't like the look he was receiving.
"Friday, is there a recording of what happened before I came in?" he asks without taking his eyes off Peter's face, the latter acting as if his shoelaces were the most fascinating thing he had seen all day. 
"I am sorry Mr. Barton. I am not able to answer that question."
Bucky tilts his head. He glances at the teen, the latter focusing his eyes everywhere but at one of the three men.
 
"You did this."
Peter shakes his head, picture-perfect innocence written over his face. 
"I don't know what you are talking about."
Clint's expression turns sour. 
"Friday, what did Peter do fifteen minutes before?"
"I'm sorry Mr. Barton, that is classified information."
The three men stare at Peter with various degrees of bewilderment and amazement. 
"You manipulated Friday? Is that what that protocol was about? Does Stark know about this?"
Peter didn't like how clammy his hands felt at the moment. 
"I don't know what you mean. Friday sounds alright to me," answers Peter, voice a pitch higher than usual. 
Sam scoffs and throws his hands up, mumbling something about kids and the Internet these days while Bucky studies the nervous teen. 
"What is protocol FTE-5, Peter?"
Peter presses his lips into a tight line, not going to lose a single word about it. He would take that information to his grave.
Protocol FTE-5 is the result of him spending more than half of his time with the Avengers, worst of all, Tony Stark. He should probably mention that he loved working together, but there was only so much teasing a sixteen-year-old could take from his literal idol before he combusts. Tony had developed the habit of using Friday to enjoy himself on Peter's behalf. He let the AI record some of Peter's embarrassing moments in the lab or during their fights and play them whenever Peter was too annoying. At first, it had been funny, but after some time, Peter realized with shock that he did a lot of dumb stuff that shouldn't, under any circumstances, be presented to a broader audience, and with that, he means anyone other than Mr. Stark. To avoid getting killed by finding a way for the ground to swallow him whole after embarrassing himself again, Peter decided to take matters into his own hands. Thus, Protocoll FTE-5 was born.
 
"You know I like you, Peter, but that's dramatic even for you. Hacking into Friday and putting in a protocol to delete every recording Friday did of you in the last thirty minutes? Isn't that a major safety threat?" had asked Ned during one of their decathlon meetings, words whispered behind his hand.
"You don't understand, Ned. I'll die if things continue like this!" Peter had been nothing but serious about the matter. Getting reminded by Tony through video clips of himself that he kind off blew up the lab three times in one week was stressing him out more than he liked to admit, even though he knew Tony was only poking fun at him and not mad.
 
Ned had given him a skeptical look before he glanced around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation.
"What does FTE even stand for?"
Peter had given him his most serious expression.
"FTE - Fuck, that's embarrassing."
He had to admit, Ned's disappointed look kinda hurt his pride. He thought the name was good. 
"That name is embarrassing. You are acting like a baby, Parker."
MJ had stood behind the two and rolled her eyes before throwing a ball of paper against his head to get his attention back into the meeting, leaving him with a beet-red face and his head in his hands. Ned had leaned over, poking his head with a pen to see if his friend was still alive.
"The name fits. That was really embarrassing."
Peter had wanted to die.
So, no, he wouldn't talk about it. Ever. Nothing could bring him to spill.
"We are back to not talking again? Well, tough luck, Parker. While I'm capable of mercy, I know someone who doesn't register that word in his dictionary." Clint tilted his head towards Bucky, who was sporting a menacing grin on his face. 
Okay, Peter, don't let them intimidate you. They will let up if things get boring. At least, that is what he tries to tell himself as he holds his chin high, leveling Barton with a challenging smile. 
"You're saying Bucky is illiterate?"
Sam honest to god, snorts at Peter's words and claps a hand onto Bucky's shoulder as he bends over, laughing into his fist. Although the joke is on Bucky, the ex-assassin's composure slips ever so slightly as a twitch of his lips upwards shows he was just as amused as Sam. 
Clint, on the other hand, is for once lost for words. It doesn't happen often, but Peter just managed to leave the quickwitted spy flustered.
"I did not-, Bucky's is not-, oh, you know what, you'll regret that, kid."
Maybe sassing at Clint while dangling with bound wrists from the ceiling hadn't been his wisest idea. A nervous smile wound a way on Peter's face when Clint stalks over with a scowl, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows.
 
"Hey, how about we talk this out? Clint, please?"
If looks could kill, Peter would have died three seconds ago. Clint's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Oh, we will talk. After I'm done with you."
Oh my god, now he was utterly fucked. Like, absolutely inevitably fucked. 
"You don't have to do this Clint, serious-NOHOHOHOHOHO!"
Peter violently pulls at the string holding him in place, a scream ripping from his mouth before a burst of hysterical laughter fills the entire gym. Fueled by the strong reaction, Clint continues digging his thumbs into Peter's exposed armpits.
 
"CLIHIHIHIHINT! PLEAHAHASE STAHAHAHAHAP!"
"What's wrong, Peter? Where is all of that sass now?" mocks the archer before he changes from using only his thumbs to all of his fingers to scratch and scribble along the sensitive pits, earning him a shriek and lots of bucking as Peter desperately tries to do anything to get the fingers away from his skin. Oh my god, it tickled so bad Peter thinks he's growing mad. The fingers dig into all his worst spots with deadly precision, rendering him into a squealing and widely kicking mess in mere seconds. 
"Seeing this with my own eyes, I would almost conclude that he's ticklish," heard Peter Sam say over the sound of his laughter. 
"What makes you think so?" asks Bucky with feigned surprise as the two just stand there, observing how Clint absolutely wrecks Peter. Peter doesn't know why their casual teasing causes him to grow even more embarrassed than he already was, but he feels his already reddened face heat up even more. 
"Clint, I think you should let Mr. Tomato over here breathe. The kid looks like he's about to burst."
To his immense relief, the fingers retreated shortly after Sam's comment, giving Peter time to suck in precious air. He was panting, arms aching from straining himself in the unfavorable position. When his breathing calmed down and he didn't feel like his heart was about to burst from his chest, Peter dared to glance up. Nervousness washes over him as he realizes that the three men had been watching him collect himself.
"So Spidey, you think you can last against three Avengers?" asks Sam as he steps closer, a predatory grin on his face. The hair on his arms and neck stands up when Bucky starts moving. The taller man walks around him until he stands out of his vision, but Peter can feel him hovering over him from behind, and the knowledge does nothing but send his senses on edge. 
"Are you ready to talk yet, Peter? If not, you don't see it, but Bucky here is ready to get into interrogation mode," informs Sam with a sadistic glee in his eyes. As on command, a pair of hands come into view, hovering just above his stomach, and Peter bites his lips, trying to keep the smile down that's forcing its way on his face. The hands begin to inch closer, barely hovering over his tummy, and Peter sucks his stomach in, trying hard to keep it together. When the hands shot forward, fingers wriggling tauntingly but not actually touching him, Peter's resolution breaks. He is immensely embarrassed by how quickly he crumbles.
"Get awahahahahy from mehehe!" squeezes Peter out between his panicked laughter. Clint grins in amusement, watching the squirming teen from the sidelines, giving Sam and Bucky a chance to have their fun but not leaving a moment to poke fun at Peter. 
"He hasn't even started, kid. You won't last a minute, but you can make him stop now. You simply have to spill your dirty little secrets."
The three men wait, but Peter stubbornly shakes his head, not giving in.
"Well, we tried it the easy way. Bucky, go on."
Clint grins at the way the kid's eyes grow wide as the hands start coming into contact with his middle, and begins ruthlessly tickling him. 
"NAhahahah BUHUHUHUCKY DOHOHON'T!"
He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut tightly as an assault of ticklish sparks shout right from the place Bucky's fingers dig into his skin into his brain, leaving him in stitches. 
"Let's take this up a notch." Sam grins and walks over to the screeching teen, ready to join the party. Peter's eyes shoot open as he feels a second pair of hands beginning to tickle him, seizing his hips and giving them a quick succession of well-timed squeezes. The feeling of four hands tormenting him became unbearable quickly. Peter's body acts on its own when he tensed his arms and pulled his feet up towards his chest. Before Sam could register what was happening, a pair of thin but strong legs closed around him, catching and trapping his arms against his waist and rendering him immobile.
 
"How did you manage that?" asks Bucky from behind Peter with amusement as he catches Sam's predicament.
"Come on, Peter. Let Sam go. You should stick to catching bank robbers or flies and not birds."
"Thehehere are spidehehrs thahahat cahahtch bihihirds!"
"Alright, nerd," teased Bucky and rolled his eyes before he claws with his right hand into Peter's ribcage while the other scratches teasingly into his exposed armpit. 
"No, no, no, Buhuhuck, pleahahase dohohn't!"
"Let him go, and I'll stop," he suggests, tone playful.
"Youhu're lyhyhying!"
"Oh, how did you know?" asks Bucky, smirking and kneading into the kid's lean sides, earning more trashing and shrieking.
"Bucky, stop tickling him for a moment. I think he's going to break my spine at this point."
Sam pulls a grimace as Peter's legs squeeze tighter around his middle with every second. 
"I think I can help with that."
Clint approaches the man, glancing over Sam's shoulder at Peter. 
"Peter, let go of Sam."
Peter shakes his head violently, not thinking about giving Sam another chance to attack him.
Clint lets out a sigh before shrugging his shoulders. 
"You leave me no other choice, kid."
Clint stands behind Sam and glances down where Peter's legs close around the man's midriff. He reaches out and quickly scribbles his fingers over the soles of the teen's feet. With a high-pitched shriek, the legs let loose, and Sam was about to let out a sigh of relief when a foot came in contact with his chest and sent him flying back a few meters. 
"Shihihit! Sohohohrry Saham!"
He hears Bucky let out a shocked but not less amused laugh.
"You should wear shoes in the gym, Peter. Bruce or Tony will kill you if they find out you walk around here in just socks."
"I wahahas juhuhst testing out my geahahahar."
"Still, that's dangerous. Something could happen to your feet."
Clint reaches out to catch one of the flailing feet to give it a quick tickle, but Peter sees it coming and pulls them quickly close to his chest, scowling at the man as threateningly as he can while laughing his head off. It wasn't very threatening. 
"Leahahahave them alohone, Clihint!"
Clint puts his hand up defensively, carrying a smirk on his face. "Okay, okay. No need to pull a Sam on me, kid."
"Hey!" shouts Sam from his place on the ground, grimacing as he rubs his chest. 
"Clint's right, that's still dangerous," comments Bucky, and it drives Peter mad how the three were talking this causally while the ex-assassin did everything that leaves Peter laughing his head off.
 
"I dohohon't wear shohohes in the suhuhit eithehheher!" he protests as well as he could. 
Sam frowns at that when he comes to a halt next to Clint, sending Peter a disapproving glance. "Don't let the public hear that. I can already see CPS getting sent after us.  Excuse me, your enhanced spider toddler doesn't wear shoes while fighting DoomBots. We need to do a home visit. "
"I ahaham nohohot a toddlehehrr!" growls Peter, glaring at Sam.
"You are not? I'll bet I can make you sound like one."
Before Peter can ask what Bucky is talking about, a muscled arm wraps around him, finger hoking under the hem of his shirt and pulling it up. The arm stays wrapped around his chest, holding the shirt in place and exposing his middle to the cold air while simultaneously taking the last bit of room Peter had to move. He was now rendered completely immobile, and whatever Bucky was planning to do to him, Peter didn't know how much more he could take. 
"Would you look at that? Is that a cute little tummy that begs for attention?"
Peter's eyes grew twice in size at the words and the tone of voice Bucky was using. Bucky cannot be serious about doing this. 
"Does Pete-Pie's tummy want some tickles? Hmm?"
Peter didn't need to see the man's face to know he was wearing a massive shit-eating grin. If Peter had thought he had been embarrassed before, this was taking the meaning of being embarrassed to a whole new level. The worst thing about Bucky teasing him and talking to him like he was a three-year-old was the fact, that Peter couldn't shake off the nervous anticipation as he watched the metal arm creeping closer, fingers wriggling playfully just above his stomach. 
"You still won't talk Pete-Pie?"
"Fuck off, Buhuhucky!"
Sam shakes his head as he watches Bucky messing with the kid.
 
"You see Barton, that is what I talked about earlier. I don't care about people telling me Spidey is a genius, that just now didn't sound very genius to me."
Clint grins at the words, shrugging his shoulders. 
"Maybe he likes getting tickled?" he asks.
"Is that it, Pete? Do you like tickles? Like the little toddler, you are?" teases Bucky and starts scratching the tips of his fingers ever so lightly over his bare navel, causing Peter to scrunch his nose up as he tries to hold back the giggles that were building up in his throat. What Bucky did to him was nothing like the ruthless attacks from before. This was all gentle and teasing touches, dragging and wriggling fingertips lightly over his sides and stomach, searching for spots that made Peter twitch. 
Peter was biting his lips, dreading to give Bucky the satisfaction of making any sound after getting humiliated like that, but the ex-assassin really knew how to fish for a reaction. It got harder and harder to keep the noises from escaping as the fingers wandered upwards, dangerously close to his ribcage. Catching onto the way the body in his arm tenses up, Bucky's smirk grows even wider, and he pulls his hand away, creating a false sense of security before he brings his head closer to Peter.
"I found your weak spot, little Spider," he growls into the teen's ear, and his hand shoots up, pressing his fingertips under the highest of Peter's ribs, and vibrating his hand but not in a ruthless manner from before. It did create just the effect he had gone for, breaking the last of Peter's walls down, and soon high-pitched giggles poured out of the teen's mouth. A wide grin splits Peter's face, and the childlike giggles cause the three men to grin at the sound filling the gym. As much as they liked teasing Peter, they all had to admit that his high-pitched giggles were nothing but adoring. 
"Sure, you're sixteen and not three, Peter?"
Peter couldn't form an answer, too busy giggling his head off as the claw-like hand started vibrating into his belly, sending ticklish waves through his whole body. He could feel the heat in his head spreading down to his neck and chest, and he probably looked more flustered than ever before. The worst thing was that Bucky didn't seem to even think about stopping anytime soon, and Peter felt close to giving up.
"Okay, Gentleman, as fun as tormenting the kid is, we will end this here."
Peter had never felt more relieved to hear Tony's voice before. He listens half-heartedly as the man approaches the group before coming to a halt in front of him, glancing at him with a twitch of his lips.
"You're still alive."
"Just peachy, Mr. Stark."
"Good. Because I have a few things to discuss with you, Peter."
Peter catches himself as the string of web is cut and catches sight of Bucky, Clint, and Sam exiting the gym while Tony beckons him to follow him to one of the benches standing at the side. 
Peter sits down while Mr. Stark pulls out one of the extra vials with the solvent for the web fluids. He holds his still bound together hands out, waiting for the man to spray the solvent and free him when he gets pushed back onto the bench.
"Mr. Stark?" asks Peter, staring wide-eyed at the man who had pushed him down. 
"Oh no. You are not off the hook yet, Parker."
"I don't know what you are tal-"
"Ah ah ah," interrupts Mr. Stark and presses his finger against Peter's lips to keep him from talking. 
"Care to explain why you hacked into Friday, Peter."
Oh fuck.
"Not the words I would use, but that sums it up well enough."
Peter didn't mean to say that out loud. He gulps when Mr. Stark raises an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain himself.
"These three didn't manage to, but I know how to make you talk, Peter. Don't let it come to that," warns Tony and places a hand on Peter's stomach, keeping him from getting up.
"You saw all that?"
"This is my tower kid. What did you expect?"
Now Peter was seriously fucked.
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harrystylesboobear · 1 year ago
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Dead Meat
Just a short one for you guys!! Bad with pronouns lol Ler bucky, lee reader, lee Steve Part two for Helpless helper
Y/n got involved in a t-word fight with the two super soldiers, soon her and Steve fall Victom of a fight of their own.
“5, 4, 3, 2, 1” 
You were gone by the time these words were spoken. However it seems as if you ran to the right person for help. 
“Ok I got a spot” Clint said, amused at your panic. 
“Follow me” He said as he lead you to the nearest air vent.
“In here”
“In the vent?” You said skepticl 
“You wanna get out of this or not?”
“Yea, yea, fine.” you said as you climbed into the vent. 
Once you were up there, you got in the perfect spot to be hidden, but still be able to see out. Soon you saw Bucky, as he walked up to Clint. Although you couldent hear what he was saying, you knew what he was going to say, and after they talked for a little bit, you felt shocked and betrayed as you saw Clint's eyes dart to where you were Hiding. 
“Dammit” You said to yourself as you started to crawl through the vents to get to a new spot. But just as you were about to get away, you felt something grasp your ankle, and just then you were pulled out of the vent. You let out a squeal as you went down.
“AH! Bucky! Fancy seeing you here.”
“It seems to me as if you lied to a dear friend of ours.” He said and hinted towards Clint.
“I did not lie! I just let out some things.. You said as you started Giggling
“Very important things however” Clint said, and then grabbed you faster than you could comprehend what was happening. 
As Clint heald you, Bucky Immedeatly went for the kill.
“AHAHAHABUHUHUHUBUHUHUCKYHYHYHYHYHY” 
“Sorry, but this is what you get Doll.” Everyone knew he didnt mean his apology.
“Jees Buck, I know you told me it was bad, but I didnt think you meant this bad.” He giggled as he completed his sentence
“DOHOHOHOHOHNHT TEHEHEASEHE MEHEHEHEH” 
“Aw why? Does it make it worse for ya?” Clint said this knowing it would make you blush. 
Once your laughter became silent, they stopped.
“Learn your lesson Doll?”
“Yeheheahah”
He held you close as you giggled.
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chalterdh22 · 1 year ago
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Day 17: Clint and Natasha in Interrogation
Lee: Clint Barton/Hawkeye
Ler: Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow
Summary:  Clint wakes up and he’s about to be interrogated by an unknown person and his friend.  Totally confused, she starts to use a method on him that only a few close people know about.  But why would she do this?
Warnings: This is a tickle fic, so if that’s not your thing, don’t read.  This is also a means to torture someone.
Clint’s head was throbbing.  He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t stand the bright light he was facing.  He let out a groan to rub them but realized his arms were tied to the side of him and he leaned back in a chair, like a dentist chair.  What the…” he mumbled to himself.  Where was Nat?  He quickly looked around the room to see if she was tied up too and didn’t see anything except this light, a table, and a door. 
“Ugh….” he let out a low moan, realizing that he had a gag in his mouth.  He couldn’t even remember how he got here.  Nat and he were watching over a few people, just surveying them, when the lights went out and the next thing he knew, they were in here.
All of a sudden, the door swung open, and two figures came walking in.  He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw one was Nat.  He didn’t recognize the other guy though.  She walked in smiling, and not a friendly smile he could tell.  What was she doing?  Did she lose her mind?  She other guy walked in with a toolbox open, and what seemed like tools.  Great, he thought.  The whole time he was looking, he was trying to get his wrists released from the ropes, which he realized were Nat’s own doing.  He can’t get out of those. 
He let out some muffled sounds when the one man said very softly, “Patient Clint.  You’ll soon be able to tell us everything you know about SHIELD.  Just stay still and rest while I gather a few other items.  Pearl, please stay here and watch over our guest.”  She turned to him, smiled, and nodded as he walked away.
When the door closed, she quickly spun around and got really close to his ear and whispered almost inaudibly, “You will have to trust me on this Clint.  Whatever you do, do not tell him where Fury is.  This will be over very soon.”  He didn’t move his head, but relaxed realizing his partner was there for him.  “Again, tell him nothing, no matter how bad it gets.  Blink twice if you understand.”  He blinked twice, now feeling more nervous.  She better not let it get bad, was all he was thinking.
The door swung open again and the other guy brought more equipment in.  “Pearl, do you think our friend here is ready to talk?”
“I think so,” she said.  “What do you think Clint?”  She pulled off the gag, which tasted horribly as he was spitting something out of his mouth.  He didn’t say anything and just stared at them. 
“So, you see, Fury has something we really need.  But he’s really hard to pin down as you know.  But we know that you know where he likes to hide out.  Tell us about a place with coordinates, and we can end this really fast.”  As he spoke he was walking around with a pair of plyers. 
Clint was thinking Nat better intercede soon.  Not that he hasn’t ever been interrogated before, but every man has their breaking point.
“Nothing, well, I can’t say I’m surprised.  I heard about the Avengers’ reputations.  Let’s see how long you last.”  He started to lean in a take the plyers to one of Clint’s bound hands when Nat reached out.
“Wait!  I have an idea!”  She took him by the shoulder and led him away.  She too was a master interrogator, so maybe she was trying to help him still.  She better.  He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he looked confused.
“Well, your reputation does precede you Pearl, so I’ll take your word for it.  Please proceed.”  She smiled, nodded, and walked back to Clint, still clearly confused on what she said to him.
“I bet you’re a little confused right now.  See, I know a few things about you from surveying you over the past few months.  And I think we have a much better way of getting you to talk without all these medieval torture methods.”  Clint’s mouth was slightly open, squinting, super confused by what she was even talking about.  She leaned in one more time and whispered in his ear, “Just be able to last about 10 minutes.”
“What did you say my dear?” the other man asked her. 
“Oh, nothing.  Just saying how much I enjoy this method.”
“Indeed. Please proceed.”
She walked up to his exposed side, where he was wearing one of his vests.  “Clint, are you sure you just don’t want to tell us now and save all this, embarrassment, pain and torture?”  He kept a stern face staring right back at her.  “Ok.”
She reached out to his side and started squeezing, not hard, but not gently either.  It was enough to make him jump in the chair, but not move anywhere.  “He-ey, what are you doing?”
“See, I know how ticklish you are and how you hate it and it’s almost unbearable, so here’s the deal, he’s going to let me play with you for about ten minutes.  Just give him a location and this will all be over.”  Clint was sweating hard.  Not only was it true that he hated being tickled, but it was worse than other methods!  And she knew this!  He would kill her later!
“Really, tickling……  just let him take the plyers to me!”  He tried to sound hard, but his voice was a little shaky.  The other man saw this and smiling. 
“My, my.  This will be fun to watch!”
His heart was racing and drops of sweat were pooling down his neck.  Nat shrugged her shoulders and placed both her hands into his armpits and started to massage them.  Clint, squeezed his eyes shut, tears instantly forming.  His mouth was pressed shut too and whimpers were begging to flow out of him.  “St-stttoo-ooopp iiitt!”  he quietly said.
She shook her head, now sitting on his lap getting more comfortable.  And she started to play on his ribs, in no particular order.  Clint threw his head back in a gasp and a moan.  So, she dug harder, knowing where his weak spots were, and he busted out laughing and yelling at the same time!
“Come on Clint.  I can keep this up all day.  Just give us what we need to know, and this will be done.” Nat said sweetly.  He glared at her with a huge smile he couldn’t wipe off his face.  Curse words were shooting through his head directed to her.  She knew this.
Nat shrugged her shoulders again and shifted back further on his legs and started grabbing his thighs.  He hunched over and yelled out, “Noooo-nooooooo!  Puuuh-leease!!!!” 
“What was that?  Do you have something to tell me.  He really didn’t know how much longer he could take this.  He was used to brutal force being an interrogation method, not this tickling crap!!!  His body didn’t know what to do for this length of time.  He kept shaking his head no, making all new noises, trying to keep his lips sealed.  “Nothing?  Hmmm, maybe your hips will help you talk.”
“No, no, please!  Seriously, stop!!!”
“Really, you didn’t even last 5 minutes!  We still have one MORE minute!”  He knew what that actually meant, or hoped it meant.  In one minute, help of some kind would be there.  One minute was a long time.  Before he could finish his thoughts though, she bared down and squeezed his thighs!
“Baahahhahahahahhaaaa!  Waaaaaiiiittt!!!”  He could not control his laughing anymore, to the point he started to gasp and go quiet. 
Suddenly, the door blasted open, and a ton of SHIELD agents came rushing in, taking down the other man.  Nat walked over to him, and revealed herself as an agent, before turning and walking away.  She started to untie Clint, who couldn’t hear anything over his breathing. 
“Sounds like you just ran a marathon, buddy!” 
“Funny….”  When she untied everything, he started to stand up but slumped over into her arms.  “Wow, we need to tell Fury you need a vacation now.”  He was shaking his head in agreement.
“I was about to break, Nat….. I was so close.  Why did you do that?”
“Because I knew you and as ticklish as you are, I knew how long you could last and that this would not take you down.”  He pulled back with her hands still on his shoulders.  His breath was slowing down now. 
“Thanks partner.  Remind me never to get captured again with you on a watch.  How did I pass out again?  I don’t remember anything.”
“Oh, Nick had me spike your water.” She smiled and started to walk away.
“Nice.  Thanks again I guess.”
“Anytime partner!”
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hotnew-pt · 1 month ago
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As adoráveis fotografias da neta mais nova de Clint Eastwood #ÚltimasNotícias #Portugal
Hot News Clint Eastwood foi, recentemente, novamente avô e há adoráveis imagens da neta mais nova do ator, que é fruto do casamento de Morgan Eastwood com Tanner Koopmans. “Duas semanas com a nossa Cleo”, pode ler-se na legenda de um conjunto de fotografias que a filha do ator (Morgan Eastwood) publicou na sua página de Instagram. Nas imagens, que estão agora disponíveis na galeria, além da…
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