Clint Barton -12-

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Truth or Dare was a game you were not a fan of

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Truth or Dare was a game you were not a fan of. When it came to revealing secrets for Truth, you always felt uncomfortable and on display. Dare-wise, you constantly seemed to get the stupidest, most embarrassing, or most extensive challenges. Tonight, you were sipping a beer at Tony Stark's birthday party and regretting allowing him to talk you into playing just this specific game you despised. The first two rounds went fine, with you asking simple, not-very-probing questions to those you picked and offering plain, not-embarrassing dare ideas for anyone that chose that, but when it came to Clint's turn at the beginning of the second round, you could tell he was planning something big.

"Alright, sweetheart, truth or dare?"

You blushed at the nickname, having fancied Clint for months now, and chose the former. He grinned and you suspected you'd done exactly what he'd hoped.

"I've noticed something about you lately, Y/N/N, and I suspect you have a crush, one who's sitting in this very room. Care to tell us who?"

Sighing, you nodded reluctantly as a few of the group cheered and others frowned sympathetically at you.

"I'd tell you to take a wild guess, Birdbrain, but I already think you know who it is."

Clint beamed with delight, a reaction you hadn't expected, and your cheeks flushed crimson.

"Me?" He turned around to grin at everyone else in the vicinity. "Did you hear that? Me!"

You halfheartedly swatted his arm, muttering a protest at his teasing, but when he swooped down to kiss you, you decided you really had nothing to complain about here.

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