#Ler!Captain | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inneedofsupervision · 8 months ago

Text

So, you got Detention

@berrys-hide-out Hey Berry, I hope reading this cheers you up a little, hope you like it <3. @cantsaythetword I didn't forget to tag you, here you go :)

Summary: Getting detention sucks. Getting detention for something you haven't done sucks even more. Getting detention and getting scolded through a Captain America PSA for something you haven't done and going home to have said man looking at you disappointedly is the bad-tasting cheery on top that Peter didn't need on this absolute disaster of a Monday. At least he gets the satisfaction of telling the rest of the team about Cap's PSAs. That's going to be fun.

Read on Ao3

"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you," sings Peter softly before his face turns into a grimace. "I'm never getting this song out of my head now. Thanks for that, Ned," mutters the teen without any bite, stepping out of the subway station. Despite Rick Astley uninvitedly declaring his love inside Peter's head, his lip twitched upwards for the first time today. He was glad to be finally heading to the Avengers Tower. Peter was ready to lock himself into the lab with Mr. Stark and ask the man what they would work on today. Him needing to bring distance between himself and the rest of the world doesn't come off as much of a surprise, taking into account that today had sucked until now. Immensely. At least in Mr. Stark's lab, nothing could get on his nerves, breaking the continuation of a bleak day.

It began with oversleeping.

The shrill sound of the alarm had cruelly torn Peter out of a dreamless slumber, and with a soft moan, the still sleep-drunk teen had aimlessly patted for the clock to end the obnoxious sound. As soon as silence had fallen over the bedroom, Peter's eyelids dropped, and although telling himself that it would just be five more minutes of lying down, he promptly fell asleep again. If Spiderman had stuck to his curfew and not exploited his aunt working overtime, there might be a chance getting to school late could have been avoided. When Peter woke the second time, tiredly checking his mobile phone, he sprung up in shock as he caught the time. Twenty minutes before the bell would ring. With no time for breakfast, he had washed up as quickly as he could, shoved the next best sweater and jeans he could find into his backpack, and sprinted out of the apartment. Peter usually avoided swinging to school, but drastic times called for drastic measures. He just hoped there wouldn't be any posts or articles of people wondering what Spiderman was doing, swinging this early in the morning cause that always prompted a rather unwelcome interview with Mr. Stark, or worse, Aunt May.

In his hurry to get to school on time, the boy had packed the wrong folder, thus having to scribble the history homework onto a paper two minutes before classes started. MJ had caught him sitting on the floor before the classroom, rushing to copy Ned's answers as if his life depended on it. She had pulled up an eyebrow before rolling her eyes. The girl didn't have to say anything for Peter's ears to grow red, embarrassed to look this unprepared in front of their decathlon team captain. Classes were relatively uneventful. Well, apart from the Spanish vocabulary test that Peter might have forgotten. Luckily, he could answer everything, although the boy was sure he spelled at least two words wrong. At lunch, Peter had felt the aftereffect of not eating breakfast as his stomach was rebelling, threatening to start eating itself from the sounds of it. The teen swore he could eat at least three portions until he had seen what they served today. To clarify, Peter isn't a picky eater. At all. Living years with Aunt Mays cocking trained him into trying everything deemed edible, and the hunger did the rest. But today, out of all days, the cafeteria ladies decided to let their presumable hate for the students show in the manifestation of the most disgusting-looking meatballs the boy had ever seen.

"Are those capers?"

Ned had glanced from his fork, where a with sauce dripping green ball of something pierced on, over to Peter, who, in return, squinted down onto his plate. He pushed the greens covered in watered-down sauce with his fork around before looking at his best friend with a frown.

"Could be. But to be honest, I don't really wanna find out."

The food had tasted just as it looked, and Peter was glad he was enhanced because he was sure if that weren't the case, he would have gotten food poisoning. How Ned got the funny-tasting excuses for a meal down was still a mystery to him. Having no money to buy something else to eat and knowing that his metabolism wouldn't let him go on without eating, Peter hadn't had much of a choice other than to force the stuff down his throat.

"If I don't show up to school tomorrow, you know what has happened to me," Ned had said with a slightly pained expression as he pushed his empty plate away to put a safety distance between himself and his lunch.

"Same," agreed Peter as he stood up. He had thrown a look at the leftovers, suppressing a shudder as he collected the food tray. They quickly left the cafeteria and the traumatic lunch experience the place brought with it behind. On their way to biology class, Peter had hope that this was the point where his day would finally turn, where it would start getting better. But of course, no day at school could end without Flash strutting up to them, holding onto the need to be insufferable. Flash had been making a beeline for Peter. The intent to bump his shoulder into Peter had been painfully obvious. Flash's nearing presence had sent Peter's spider-sense off, and it took the vigilante some willpower to let the impact happen.

"What, not apologizing for blocking the hall with your stupid face, Parker?"

Not wanting the situation to escalate, Peter tried to overlook the provocation. He wasn't looking forward to a confrontation, minding his business and continuing walking away when Ned whispered. "Don't mind him. Flash probably ate one too many of those meatballs and now feels like crap." Peter was aware that his friend only meant to lighten up the mood. He couldn't help heaving a sigh when their classmate turned around with an icy glare. "What did you say about me, Fatty?"

Apparently, Neds whispering had not been as quiet as intended. Flash had snarled, hand reaching out to grab Ned's collar but grasped at nothing as Peter anticipated the action and pulled his friend out of reach. He had shoved himself between the two and tried to calm Flash down when the teen grabbed his arm roughly, pulling him closer.

"Listen, Parker, one more word from your friend and I-" The rest of his threat had gotten cut off by the booming voice of Mrs. Warren echoing through the hallway, causing the students standing near her to jump at the sound.

"Parker, Thompson! Detention!"

"Fuck you, Parker."

With a glare, Flash had let go of him and stomped away under the watchful eye of Mrs. Warren. Ned had turned wide-eyed to his friend, carefully laying his hand on Peter's arm where Flash had grabbed him.

"Are you hurt? Peter, I'm so sorry, you shouldn't get detention because of me. I'll talk to Mrs. Warren."

Peter had pulled Ned back with a tired sigh. "Don't bother, Ned. You know Mrs. Warren won't change her mind. She's not exactly my biggest fan. I'll message Mr. Stark that I'm going to be late."

Ned was quick to protest. " But you did nothing wrong! Dude, that's just not fair!"

"It's alright, Ned. It's only detention. It won't be too bad."

By the time Peter finally got to step out of the building, he felt the urge to shake his head at his naivety. Detention had been downright awful. The second the supervising teacher had rolled in the antic tube television, Peter had an odd foreboding of what would come. The old device had flickered to life, and the speaker began playing with a static noise that made Peter wince inwardly. Peter swears he could see Mr. Stark before his inner getting an aneurysm at the sight and sound of their school equipment. Peter had ignored the burning pair of eyes trying to bore into the back of his head, courtesy of Flash, the latter trying to get his attention by calling him names but got told off by their teacher quickly. Peter had also noticed the lack of MJ, who chose today out of all days, not bothering to sketch someone's questioning of their life choices, and maybe detention would have been a tiny bit less terrible with her in the classroom. His eyes had flipped back to the TV, where a star-spangled, all too familiar-looking man sat down on a chair and began talking.

"So, your body is changing. Believe me. I know how that feels."

Peter had sunk deeper into his chair with a groan, the need to bid his lunch goodbye stronger than ever. Sixty painful minutes of unwanted advice from America's most popular and still living icon later, Peter is on his way to the Tower when his mobile phone vibrates inside his jeans pocket, Ned's name greeting him on the display.

"Hey, Peter. I'm still really sorry for earlier. But look what I found! This article is about Spiderman!"

Peter was glad his headphones were on as he clicked on the link Ned had sent him, as Never Gonna Give You Up blasts into his ears. It took him a few seconds as he stared down at his mobile phone, where the singer cheerfully danced behind his microphone, only for him to realize what happened. A surprised chuckle makes it out of his mouth as Peter holds his mobile phone up and whispers, "Dude, did you just rickroll me?". The grin was evident in his voice before he sent the audio message. It doesn't take Ned a minute to answer with a series of laugh emojis. Peter continuously chats with Ned on his way, his Spidey sense keeping him from bumping into anyone during the bustle on Manhattan's sidewalks.

Despite being late, there is the hint of a smile tugging Peter's lips upwards as he steps out of the elevator, amused about something Ned had written. Someone clears their throat, and Peter startles at the sound, quickly using his stickiness to catch his phone. The device dangles from the tip of his ring finger while Peter wonders why he has not felt their presence when a pair of familiar black dress shoes comes into view. Realization washes over Peter at their sight, the owner the only other person apart from his aunt, that his spidey sense doesn't go off to.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," greets Peter and puts on a polite smile as he takes in the frown displayed on his mentor's face. Maybe he should have written more than, "Hi, Mr. Stark. I'm going to be late. Happy doesn't have to drive me."

Peter's smile must have looked as forced as it felt by the look Mr. Stark gave him in return. The man stays quiet as Peter walks past him towards the guest room to put his backpack away. Walking into the living room, the teen gets greeted by the rest of the Avengers lingering around. Peter makes a beeline towards the couch where Clint is sitting, hoping to avoid the confrontation with his mentor just a little longer.

"Hey, Pete. How was school?"

"Please don't ask," mumbles Peter, taking a pillow to hug it while he sinks further into the cushions, trying to be one with the furniture. He leans his head back and stares at the ceiling while Clint chuckles next to him. "That bad, huh?" asks the man, and Peter hums. He closes his eyes, relishing that he finally gets to rest when the sound of footsteps grows closer before halting in front of the couch. Peter suppresses a sigh.

"Care to explain why you happen to be late?" Mr. Stark doesn't sound too bothered, which Peter takes as a good sign. He ponders if he liked Mr. Stark better when the man had been more indifferent but quickly pushes that thought into the back of his mind. Mr. Stark is just worried. But still, Peter didn't like the curiosity and concern in the older man's voice, the tone making him feel like a little kid getting scolded. The boy hugs the pillow closer, successfully muffling his voice by pressing it against his face. He really wasn't in the mood for this kind of conversation. Pushing his face deeper into the pillow, he grumbles, "I had detention."

"What was that? I didn't quite catch that, Spiderling."

Peter is pretty sure Mr. Stark did catch that. Something cold presses against his forehead, the only part of his face not hidden behind the pillow. Peter peeks from under it up to Natasha, who holds a can of Coca-Cola above him, a tiny smile on her lips. She nodded toward Stark with a reassuring smile, and Peter felt a bit better, knowing someone was there to step in if Mr. Stark became too overbearing. Taking the drink from her, the teen sat up properly and put the pillow down, facing his mentor.

"I hung out with Deadpool after school," he deadpanned, his last attempt to stir away from the topic. Mr. Stark raises an eyebrow, sending a side eye at Clint, who dared to snicker at the kid's comment.

"Funny kid, but just to let you know, I have a pretty little monitor in the lab telling me that you haven't left the school building until twenty-five minutes ago. Oh, and I hope for my and your aunt's sanity that you haven't been around Deadpool without at least a ten-mile distance between you two. That man is a nutcase, Peter."

Ignoring the jab at the merc with a mouth and Peter's secret "Thursday is taco-day" partner, he raises an eyebrow. "Should I file a police report for stalking, Mr. Stark?"

"Kid, I don't need two spies and Snowflake around knowing you are deflecting. Now, out with it. Why were you late?"

Peter picked up on the silence around, aware that, by now, everyone in the room and the kitchen were probably listening in. A little embarrassed by the attention, the teen's eyes wander toward his lap, where he absentmindedly fiddles with his web shooters, a sense of shyness overcoming him.

"I had detention," he repeats, a little timid.

The silence only lasts a few seconds.

"Ouch, detention. I knew there had to be something about you, man. No one can be such a goody-two-shoes all the time," teases Sam with a smile, patting Peter's shoulder as he walks past to sit next to Bucky. Peter's lip twitched at the comment, relief flooding him when he looked around and saw no one looking disappointed. Catching Mr. Stark studying him, Peter fumbles with his web shooters again. Although the man didn't seem mad, the way he was looking at him made Peter nervous. Before the teen knew what was happening, he was already throwing a lengthy explanation the man's way, a sudden flood of words hastily chained together to form a somewhat coherent report of what had happened.

"Those meatballs were seriously bad, Mr. Stark. It reminded me of the time you made me try oysters. I'm not sure if I should ever forgive you for that, by the way. That had been kinda traumatic." Peter was painfully aware he was full-on rambling at this point, but Mr. Stark silently listening was unnerving him greatly, so he pushed on, eyes everywhere except Mr. Stark.

"Flash walked up to us and tried picking a fight. I just wanted to go and ignore him, seriously Mr. Stark, I didn't even look at him, but then Ned said something about Flash feeling crappy cause of those meatballs, and it was a joke, but Flash heard it, and he was going to grab Ned by the collar."

Peter goes on, and by the looks Bruce and Rhodey are throwing him, he should probably take a second to breathe before freaking out the adults in the room. But Peter couldn't waste time caring about who he was freaking out because he was going to freak if not managing to make Mr. Stark understand that he didn't get detention on purpose.

"I put myself between them when Flash grabbed me instead when Mrs. Warren came by. She saw us in the hallway and gave us detention."

"Hold on," says Sam, sitting up as he looks at Peter, wearing an incredulous expression. "You've got detention 'cause you avoided your friend getting roughed up by that Flash kid? Is that what I'm getting?"

Before Peter could answer him, Mr. Stark had already his Stark phone out. "I knew that Flash kid meant trouble. That's it. I'm going to get that gremlin expelled."

"Wait, you can't do that, Mr. Stark!"

The man raises an eyebrow, and Peter backpedals quickly. "Okay, you could, but please, you don't have to. He didn't hurt anyone, and it's only detention!"

"He was about to hit your friend, Peter," comments Clint, and Peter did not doubt if Mr. Stark wasn't about to call his school, then the archer would be the one to do it. Clint could get weirdly protective at the most random times.

"He does dumb stuff, yes, but if you expel him, it could get him in serious trouble. I know he has problems at home, and getting expelled isn't the solution." By the pointed look he's receiving from several of the Avengers, Peter had a hunch that his arguments weren't cutting it. He needs to pull out the big guns. The teen leaned forward and looked up to Mr. Stark with the saddest puppy dog eyes he could muster. "Please, Mr. Stark. Don't call the school."

If he hadn't been panicking about Mr. Stark trying to expel his classmate, Peter would have found it funny how quickly the hero calling himself Iron Man crumbled. Tony rolls his eyes with an excessive sigh passing his lips as he pockets his Stark Phone. "Next time that hooligan starts something, I will have him expelled faster than you can say, Mr. Stark, got it?"

Peter grins at his mentor. "Got it, Mr. Stark," he chirps back, leaning back into the couch and feeling content for the first time that day. He catches onto the amused glances the others send him and Mr. Starks way.

"So, how many pizzas should I order?" asks Rhodey, the man successfully breaking the silence. With the promise of Pizza and the knowledge that no one minded him getting detention, Peter takes out his phone to text Ned, the smile from before back on his lips. He looks up, feeling someone looking at him, and meets Bucky's eyes.

"Still can't believe they give you detention without clearing up the situation," says the man, crossing his arms over his chest, a sour expression on his face. Peter was about to tell Bucky that it was alright, honestly touched that the man got bothered on his behalf when Captain America chose that moment to walk in. A groan builds up in his throat as the man settles next to Bucky. Steve's brows are furrowed in concern as he glances around the room, lines on his forehead deepening before his eyes turn to the teen. It takes only a second for Peter to guess that Steve had only picked up the detention part of the conversation.

"You've got detention?"

Steve says it so seriously it makes Peter want to throw the pillow at something. Or someone. Too tired to retell the event, Peter merely shrugs his shoulders. "It wasn't that bad."

He had hoped they would leave it at that, but who was he kidding? He's talking about Steve Rogers, after all. Peter's good mood starts deflating when Steve puts on his disappointed Captain America face.

"You're a good kid, Peter. You shouldn't get in trouble."

The teen's expression turns sour at Steve's comment.

"Steve, leave him alone," begins Bucky, frowning at his friend and leaning forward to intervene when the teen sinks into his seat with a low groan. Tony shoots him a worried glance. "What's wrong, Pete?"

Peter ignores the question in favor of sending Steve a glare. Steve dared to look baffled by the look sent his way. If today hadn't been so bad, Peter wouldn't even consider rolling his eyes at Steve, but now he couldn't be bothered to be polite to Captain Popsicle. "I had to listen to your lectures for sixty minutes today, Steve. Sixty. Minutes. I think I had my fill, so please don't bother starting another lecture about what is right and wrong if you don't even know what happened!"

Mr. Stark looks highly amused, not bothering to stop Peter from throwing his sass at Steve, which the teen usually kept for being alone with him in the lab, not often showing it in front of the rest of the team. Bruce raises an eyebrow, head slightly tilted in question. "Peter, Steve had been here all day while you were in school. When should he have lectured you?"

"He wasn't, but I had to listen to his PSA during detention, and I don't feel like hearing more now," answers the teen with something that might, under some circumstances, resemble a pout. Not that Peter would be pouting in front of the Avengers.

"PSA?" asks Clint while Bucky carries a thoughtful look before glancing at the blond sitting next to him.

"You shot PSAs? They still do these?"

Taking in all the puzzled faces around them, Peter quickly realized something that filled his inside with nothing but delight. It was like someone turned a switch, the not-pout on the teen's face morphing into a grin bright enough to lighten the room while Steve's face darkened with every new question asked, their expression the complete opposite of each other.

"They don't know," whispered Peter under his breath, eyes locked on Steve. He lets out a surprised laugh, a grin wider than ever.

"Oh my god, Steve, they don't know!"

He sits upright, the tiredness completely wiped off him as he beams at the blond, eyes gleaming with mischief rivaling Loki.

"Peter," says Steve slowly, the warning heavy in the undertone of his voice. Said warning meets deaf ears, Peter not even thinking about stopping any time soon. He had felt like crap the whole day. Nothing went his way, and Peter knows that that's not on Steve. But having to listen to Captain America's lecture when he did nothing wrong only for the man himself to assume that he did something the second someone uses the word detention in context with Peter without giving him a chance to explain rubbed him the wrong way. The teen isn't a fan of revenge and retaliation and holding grudges, but today, Peter felt petty. If Steve thought he could spoil the rest of the day after school had been that bad already, then he could buckle up. Peter knows his behavior is childish and petty, traits no one would connect with Spiderman, but the teen isn't Spiderman right now. He is Peter Parker, a feeling wronged fifteen-year-old who holds the perfect blackmail material of the person who wronged him in his young, inhumanly sticky hands.

"So," begins Peter in the most serious voice he could muster, giving it his best Captain America impersonation. The way Steve's expression contorted into a grimace was worth it. "you got detention."

"I give you one chance to stop, Peter," warned Steve, eyes narrowed dangerously. Peter only grins wider at that, having way too much fun rilling the blond up while the others could only share confused glances.

"Something tells me this goes over my head," stage whispers Clint.

"Doesn't everything?" shoots Sam at him simultaneously as Tony throws a, "Nothing new, then."

"Harsh," says Clint, rubbing his chest in mock hurt, causing the others to chuckle. "But back to Spider-kid and Cap, does anyone know what those two are on about?"

Choruses of no clue and a beat from Rhodey are all he gets before all eyes are on the pair, who are now challenging in a silent stare-off. Peter leaned forward, openly enjoying teasing the older man. Steve is ready to jump at him by the looks of it, but Peter isn't intimidated in the slightest, knowing he could outrun the older man. "You screwed up. You know what you did was wrong. The question is, how are you gonna make things right?"

Peter's grin widens at the same time Steve narrows his eyes.

"Last warning, Pete."

The blond raises his eyebrows, caught off guard when the teen leans back into his seat. He watches with surprise how Peter fishes his phone out of his pocket, taking a short glance at it before calmly placing it on the coffee table.

"Okay, I'll stop here," says Peter mercifully, stretching as he stands up and walks towards the kitchen. The blond's eyes follow the teen's movement, and Sam snickers how his friend's body deflates at the tension vacating his shoulders, amused by the power a teenager holds over Steve's head.

"Oh, by the way, Steve," Steve's heads shoot up at the tone in Peter's voice. He locks eyes with the teen, who wears the cheekiest grin any of the Avengers ever had seen him carry as he beams at the man.

"Maybe you were trying to be cool. But take it from a guy who's been frozen for 65 years... The only way to be cool is to follow the rules."

Peter's grin was about to reach his eyes. He couldn't help himself.

"Are you following the rules, Steve?"

In hindsight, Peter should have anticipated that the super soldier wouldn't let go of it without some retaliation. It had been too much fun to watch the man's patience thinning than to think what the outcome of that scenario would mean for Peter. He ducks at the same time his Spidey sense peaks, blocking the pillow flung at him just in time. The low buzz had begun to surr in his ear since he started teasing Steve and was growing into a shrill ringing when the man got up from his seat incredibly fast. Peter turns around while stepping out of reach, avoiding the hands reaching for him by vaulting over the couch, including Clint.

"Hey, no jumping over my furniture!" scolds Mr. Stark, but the crinkling of skin around his eyes betrays the stern act as he watches his mentee chased by Cap, wearing a grin on his face.

"Sorry, Mr. Stark!"

The sincerity of the apology suffers under the smile lying in his voice.

Peter stands still, eyes not leaving Steve, who hovers on the other side of the couch, waiting for him to move. Despite focusing on the blond, Peter catches onto the excitement in the room, their little chase entertaining the others immensely, followed by the cheering they receive from the rest. The whole situation was so silly. Peter couldn't help but laugh when he feinted a step to the side, causing Steve to flinch as the man was ready to pounce but narrowing his eyes as he caught on Peter trying to fool him. He couldn't wait to tell Ned that he had teased Captain America, the thought alone bringing a grin about to split his face.

The excitement in the room only increases, so much that Peter doesn't notice the new presence of a person before nearly bumping into them. Thanks to his sixth sense, he barely keeps from barreling into Mrs. Potts. He comes to an abrupt halt despite wearing socks, only possible thanks to his stickiness. Pepper holds a hand over her heart, the surprise written all over her face when Steve takes the chance of Peter not paying attention. The last thing Peter catches is Pepper's green eyes widening, her mouth forming a silent o before something slams into him at full speed, turning the world upside down.

"Whoa, careful Steve. I don't want squished spiders on my clothes."

Clint scowls playfully at the blond, who ignores him in favor of wrestling with a laughing teen on the couch. The archer rolls his eyes at being ignored and points his thumb at the pair.

"Children. It's like herding cats." He snorts at the sight of Peter with his back pressed into the couch, one foot pressed against the super soldier's chest, and pushing the 240-pound weight off of him without much difficulty. "So, your body is changing," begins Peter, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face despite Steve looming above him, looking ready to throw him out of the next window. The blond reaches out to cover Peter's mouth to block more parts of his most embarrassing PSA coming out of the teen, the panic in his eyes causing Peter to break out into laughter. Steve narrows his eyes at the laughing teen, who half-heartedly shoves him off of him.

"Can someone please tell me what is going on here?"

Peter perks up at Mrs. Pott's question, glancing at Steve with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, I was just about to tell the rest about Mr. Roger's PSAs, Mrs. Potts," he chirps, ever so helpful. He was about to elaborate when Steve finally managed to clap his hand over Peter's mouth, successfully shutting him up.

"Noo, why did you turn him off?" complains Sam with faked disappointment. "It was just about to get interesting."

"Since when do you believe anything Peter tells you?" counters Steve, struggling to hold the teen down and keep him from spilling another word. Despite Peter's small size, the teen was powerful. Steve needed to trap him in a hold, somewhat resembling an uncomfortable back hug, to keep a hand over his mouth, but the teen with his freaky flexibility didn't even seem too bothered.

"Well, the kid can be very persuasive. And he did sound like he had something important to tell us. Isn't that right, Peter?"

Peter nods vigorously despite the hand still covering his mouth. They watch the teen worming an arm out of Steve's bear hug, tugging on the hand that kept him from talking. Sam grinned as he observed Steve's face fall at the ease Peter pulled his hand away. The older man tried reclaiming the position, but the teen had it in a tight hold, successfully keeping him from putting his hand back on his mouth. Peter grabs Steve's other wrist and pushes the man's arms away, wriggling out of the hold. A bright grin adorns the teen's face as he pushes Steve away, who is back on his heels in a second. Peter jumped off the couch as a hand seized his leg, causing him to fall over. Several surprised gasps could be heard, along with a rather colorful curse directed at Steve from Tony as Peter catches himself, keeping from faceplanting into Mr. Stark's pristine white living room floor. In contrast to the glares Steve receives at the rash action, Peter openly cackles as Steve tries pulling him back by his leg.

"There is a perfectly equipped gym two floors down, and they decide to do this here?"

"Don't be harsh on them, Tony. They seem to be having fun," appeases Pepper, surprisingly one of the few people along with Bucky and Natasha who weren't shocked by seeing Peter fall.

"Where does that look like having fun?" He asks, but one look at his mentee's face tells him his fiance was right. The kid is enjoying himself.

Meanwhile, Peter plants his palms on the floor, his upper body hanging off the couch. He sticks onto the tiles, sticking one hand down at a time, and crawls away while Steve still holds onto one of his legs. He keeps moving forward, laughing at the strained huff Steve lets out as he avoids Peter's free foot from kicking him in the stomach. The super soldier bats the flailing limp away, shortly loosening his hold on the teen's leg, which the latter quickly uses as a chance to create some leeway.

He doesn't get very far.

"No!" shouts Peter as a hand wraps around his ankle and pulls him back half a meter. "Sam! Bucky! Help!" pleads the teen half-heartedly, reaching out for the two men sitting on the opposite couch.

"What do you say, Buck? Do we help the munchkin?"

"I know Steve long enough not to interfere when he gets like that. Punk is a mad dog when he throws a fit. Sorry, kid, you're on your own."

Peter is about to give the men a piece of his mind when he gets pulled another good amount of inches back before he gets back to stick on the floor. He crawls away again, but Steve has none of it and reaches for the teen's other ankle. Thanks to his spidey sense, Peter avoids the grip by turning on his side, but it causes him to roll further towards the couch than away from it. Steve quickly takes the opportunity to reach down and hook his hand under the teen's side, attempting to heave Peter off the ground. The teen twists in his hold, and Steve curls his fingers into Peter to keep a hold of him when an honest-to-good squeal escapes the teen.

An eerie silence hangs over the room, no one daring to speak as Steve stares at the frozen teen in his hold who avoids meeting his face as best as he can, but he catches onto the reddened tips of his ears. Steve's lip twitched knowingly. He knows that kind of reaction. He squeezes his hand abruptly, lips forming into a grin as the body on the floor jumps like a fish on land at the action.

"Oho," says Clint, sounding way too gleeful, the first to break the silence, having watched the silent realization come over Steve with amusement.

"What a way to reveal your secret, kid. At least I won't have to keep this to myself anymore," comments Tony with a grin.

Now was Steve's turn, carrying a mischievous grin.

"A secret? What kind of secret could that be, Peter? You like sharing information. How about you enlighten us about this, huh?"

Peter feels his heart jump at the tone in Steve's voice. He kind of regrets having made fun of the man. Peter begins crawling again, but this time with more vigor than before. He doesn't get very far as Steve instantly pulls him back but meets resistance as the teen sticks to the ground. The problem resolves itself quickly as Steve releases one of Peter's legs to reach forward and claw at the teen's ribs. With a shriek, Peter's left hand unsticks, arm shooting down to protect his side. Steve's hand darts to the teen's other side, repeating the procedure and efficiently getting the teen off the ground. From there on, it was easy to throw the already laughing boy back onto the couch.

Never one to back down quickly, Peter instantly tries climbing over the couch, but an arm sneaks around his middle and prevents him from escaping. He tries reaching for the backrest, but a hand worms its way into his underarm, and every attempt to reach his arm out to grasp something becomes futile. He quickly gets pushed down, back pressed into the couch cushion as Steve looms over him for a second time that day, but this time, Peter could crawl out of his skin at the grin on the older man's face.

"Dohon't do this," says Peter, voice void of any conviction as nervous giggles accompany his words. Not knowing what to do with his hands, the teen awkwardly holds them in front of him, half shielding his upper body and half waiting to catch any hands that were about to attack. Steve watches with growing amusement how the boy's eyes jump from his face to his hands and back as if he were unsure what was more important to keep track of. He had never seen such an amount of nervous energy radiating from the teen. It was adorable to see him this unnerved about something harmless as this.

"This? What do you mean, Peter? Is this about the secret Tony mentioned?"

"I don't know what you are talking about. I don't have any secrets. Apart from being Spiderman, I mean," Peter stumbles over his words, lips twitching upwards when Steve raises an eyebrow at him. "No secrets to share, no information to keep. I have nothing to hide, so you can let me go. Please?"

Steve turns towards Clint, who hasn't moved an inch, even with the literal wrestling match happening on the seats next to him. "What do you say, Clint? Does he tell the truth?"

Peter throws a pleading look towards the archer. Clint grins at the pair.

"You see that face," he asks, pointing at the teen. "As a spy and a father, I can tell you that's the face of a liar."

"That's not true!" protests Peter as Steve turns back to him. Catching onto the look the man bestows on him, Peter snatches the next best thing he can get his hands on, a decorative pillow, and uses it to shield himself, a giant grin about to split his face. Steve cracks his knuckles.

"Seems like I have to get the truth out of you."

"Noho!" shouts Peter with a laugh as Steve pulls at the pillow. Nervous giggles are pouring out of him as he tries to make himself as small as possible, and it is faint, but Steve's enhanced hearing could pick up on the wild pace of the kid's heart beating.

"Let go of the shield, Spiderman," commands Steve, eyes gleaming playfully at the boy.

"In your dreams," says Peter, only fastening his hold onto the pillow, the only thing keeping him safe from the fingers getting closer. Steve catches a movement out of the corner of his eyes, lips twitching ever so slightly. He focuses back on Peter, the boy watching him with his whole attention, unaware of the hands reaching for his feet. A shriek escapes the vigilante, eyes widening at the feel of blunt nails running over his socked soles, causing him to flinch and pull his legs up at the ticklish feeling. Steve uses the moment of surprise to tear the pillow out of Peter's hand, depriving him of the last thing to shield himself from his attack.

"Thanks, Clint."

"No problem, Cap."

Peter sends a glare Clint's way, but the archer only needs to reach for his feet for the teen to let the glare turn into a panicked grin, quickly tucking his legs close. "That's what I thought," says Clint with a smug grin. Steve uses the moment of inattention, poking the teen's stomach in quick succession. The reaction didn't disappoint.

"Hey! Stohop it!"

Peter tries glaring at the blond while his hand fails to catch the poking fingers, jumping when one poke lands dangerously close to his lower rip. The motion doesn't go unnoticed by the soldiers' trained eyes, a sly smirk forming on the man's face. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"Yehehehes! Stahahap pokehihing me!" complains Peter, but it was hard to take the teen seriously with the constant giggling. Steve does stop at that.

"Alright, I'll stop. Would you prefer this instead?"

He skitters his fingers over the teen's stomach, grinning at the squeal escaping Peter before he tries curling on himself, hysterical giggles pouring out of him, unaware that the sound causes amused smiles to appear on every face in the room.

"Nahaha, gehehet your hahahands of mehehe," Peter manages to bring out between his laughter as he twists on his side, addressing the others.

"Sohohomebody hehelp!"

"Anyone here knows who that somebody is he's talking about?" asks Sam, feigning ignorance.

"I hahahete you, Bihihirdman 2!"

"Yeah, I can't take anything you say seriously giggle-bug."

Peter is about to counter, but a set of fingers dug into the part where his ribs and upper back meet, sending a ticklish shock throughout his body. He jumps at the touch, and Steve latches onto the reaction, taking both hands to claw at his ribcage and digging his fingers in on the search for that spot. Peter's giggles had long ago turned into bright laughter, now accompanied by an occasional shriek and a whole-body jump as Steve found what he'd been searching for.

"Oh, what's this?" he asks, voice full of glee.

"NOHOHOTHING, IT'S NOTHINIHIN!"

"Something tells me you're onto something, Cap," comments Rhodey with a grin, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, amusement written all over his face.

Peter shakes his head at the words, chanting "Stopstopstopstohohooop," while trying to catch the hands that are way too skillful in sending ticklish sparks under his skin, leaving him in stitches. "Why? Is this the spot I have to go to to get you to tell me about your secret? Although I think I can already guess what it is."

Steve grins down at Peter who tries so hard to scowl at him but fails miserably. It leaves the man wondering where all the strength has gone, and while the idea of tickling being Spiderman's big-bad weakness sounds fun, Steve knows for the better that this couldn't be the reason for the teen's failure to escape.

"OH MY GOHOHOHOD, NOHOHO!" Peter kicks his legs, wriggling from side to side and throwing his head back when Steve finds a way to slip his hands into his underarms. He presses his arms down, quickly rendering Steve's fingers immobile, but the feeling of them simply touching his armpits tickled like mad.

"Peter, I kinda need my hands back, or we're stuck here until tomorrow," teases Steve, amused when the boy shakes his head with a giant grin.

"Buck, a little help here?"

The other man huffs a small laugh. "You're seriously stuck?"

Steve grins at him. "I can't move a single finger."

With a shake of his head, Bucky makes his way over to the couch. He assesses the situation before glancing at Peter, the latter trying to catch his breath. Without a word, Bucky clasps both hands on Peter's thighs just over the kneecap, squeezing and massaging his thumb into the muscle. Peter kicked like mad at the action, breaking into loud belly laughter, and Steve could pull his hands away as the teen was busy twisting and wriggling, trying anything to get Bucky's hands off his knees.

"How did you know that would work?" asks Sam, impressed, as Bucky walks back to sit on the couch as if nothing had happened. Bucky shrugs. "It works on Steve," he answers cooly, but with a smirk playing on his face. Steve glares at him but quickly focuses on Peter, who uses the moment to try crawling in the other direction of the couch. Clint only watches with amusement as he has a lap full of enhanced teen trying to crawl over him as if that was your normal Monday afternoon thing, only to get caught by the shoulder and get dragged back.

"We're not done yet, Queens."

"Steheheheve, pleaahahse. I cahanah't tahahake anymhohore!" whines Peter, but Steve catches onto the playful spark glinting in his eyes.

"Okay, I'll stop here," says Steve, mimicking Peter. "But there's one thing I'll have to tell you." The teen narrows his eyes at the blond, not trusting one word coming from Steve.

"What I tell you now is about one of the most valuable traits a student or soldier can have."

Peter's eyes widen comically. As soon as his brain registers the words, he gracelessly flails in his place. The teen tries to throw himself off the couch as he knows where this is going, but Steve, having anticipated the action, jumps forward and catches the teen around the waist. He keeps his arm wrapped around Peter's middle, hugging the teen against his chest and kneading his free hand into Peter's side without further ado.

"Nohohohot anohohother one! Steve pleahahahase! Dohohohon't do thihihhis! I-I'll goho insahahane!"

Steve keeps a stoic face despite the madly giggling and protesting fifteen-year-old half-sitting squirming in his lap, batting and pulling on the arm holding him in place. He continues his speech with his Captain America voice, causing several eyebrows to raise in amusement.

"Patience." he begins, while his hand slips under the teen's shirt, skittering his fingers over bare skin, "Sometimes, patience is the key to victory."

Peter doesn't know if it's the teasing or the fact that Steve keeps dragging his fingers over the bare skin of his sides, but he can't help kicking his legs into the air and throwing his head back into Steve's shoulder as his whole body shakes under the force of him laughing. Steve takes advantage of Peter's head being this close as he speaks the following words right into his ear, earning him the cutest giggle he had ever heard as the teen desperately tries to scrunch his shoulder up and shield his ear from the tickly air. "Sometimes, it leads to very little, and it seems like it's not worth it, and you wonder why you waited so long for something so disappointing."

At his last word, Steve changes his tactics and uses his free hand to poke every place he can find that Peter isn't poorly trying to protect. The boy can't do anything in his hold but giggle his head off, and Steve wonders once again why Peter doesn't escape since he certainly could until he realizes that, maybe, Peter doesn't want to escape. The thought sparks his interest, and he might as well test that theory while the opportunity's still there.

"STEHEHEHEHEHEVE! NO! Anywhere but there! Please please please, please not thihihis it's so bad. Seriously, dohon't do it! STEHEVE NOHOHO, WHY AREN'T YOHUHU LISTENIHIHIHN! AHAHAHAH NO STAHAHAHAP!"

Peter trashes in his hold as the super solider gets another chance to dig into that sweet spot between his back and rips, sending the kid into a laughing fit, face reddening as he squeezes his eyes shut, the corner wettening with tears of joy before his laughter turns silent.

"Steve, I'll think he got the message," interrupts Tony, having caught onto the change from silent laughter to coming out a tad bit breathless. Not wanting to overdo it, the blond stops the tickling but keeps his arm around the teen, afraid Peter will fall if he lets go of him. The boy hangs slack in his hold, trying to catch his breath.

"You good, Queens?" asks Steve, a little worried he might have overdone it as he carefully loosens his hold on Peter. The latter let himself slip to the side, landing with a groan on the couch. Feeling Steve's eyes on him, Peter turns his head but keeps lying on his side. He sends the man a tired grin.

"I think now I know the true meaning of patience. And ruthlessness."

With a smile, Steve reaches over and ruffles Peter's already messed-up hair.

"You need another lecture, and you know where to find me," he jokes, smirking at the dramatic groans it earns him.

"Yeah, no, I think I pass. You know what I would rather listen to?"

Steve raises an eyebrow in question.

Peter grins at him.

"Some Captain America PSAs."

#ticklish! peter parker #ticklish spiderman #lee peter parker #ler steve rogers #marvel tickle fic #peter parker #spiderman #captain america #steve rogers

160 notes · View notes

widowsistersandfriends · 1 year ago

Text

Tickle Trap

Request: The reader is Steves younger sister. She wants to join the Avengers like her best friend peter and the rest of her family. Steve, however, is very much against it due to his overprotective nature, and the reader is still young (still in high school with spiderling). Despite having no superhuman abilities, she wants to prove herself. One day, while rummaging through old items in the Avengers compound, the reader stumples upon Natashas old (outdated) spy tech - seeing it as her golden opportunity to prove herself. Maybe if she can trick and trap her brother, he will see she is more than capable. However, as she has no real training or idea on how to use the stuff, she quickly traps herself, leaving her to her brother's (nonexistent, as bad guys don't show it in the field) mercy

Notes: Thank you so much for this request! I love the idea behind it, and I had a lot of fun writing it! Thanks for being patient for this fic, I appreciate it! I also added Natasha in there to help enhance the plot, and I hope you enjoy! Also special thanks to @thenigotthisfamily for helping me figure out the ending! ❤️

Word Count: 1820

--------------------------------------------------------

“How come I can’t be cool like the rest of you?” You questioned Steve, who was your older brother and the famous Captain America. Despite not having any superhuman strength or superpowers, there was nothing more you wanted than being an Avenger.

“Because, it’s too dangerous, and I don’t want you getting hurt,” he replied.

“I could say the same thing about you. How come it’s okay for you to get hurt?” You persisted.

“There’s a much lower chance of me getting hurt due to my super strength. Besides, you’re too young anyway,” Steve said.

“I’m the same age as Peter! He gets to be an Avenger,” you said unhappily.

“He’s only an Avenger because he was bitten by a spider that gave him spider senses. Otherwise he’d be too young and not fit either,” Steve said.

You huffed in annoyance, knowing that you would find a way no matter what.

The next day, you were rummaging in the old storage room at the compound. You were looking for something easy enough to use so you could prove your skills to your older brother. You tossed a few things aside, as they looked too complicated. However, you now stumbled upon what looked like a simple contraption with a remote control. Once the button was pressed, the trap was activated, and the person would be trapped in it. Not only would you prove that you could use their equipment, you would also show that you could outsmart a superhero. Your plan was to wait in Steve’s room and hide. When he entered, you would activate the trap. However, things don’t always go as planned.

You were hiding in Steve’s room behind his dresser. You smiled to yourself, giddy to see your plan in action. However, while you were squatting there, you felt a cramp form in your foot, causing you to fall out of your squatting position and hit the button with your knee. With that, the device activated, ropes shooting out at once and quickly trapping you to the wall with your hands and arms away from your body.

“Oh no! I’m so screwed,” you said to yourself, struggling to break free. If your brother caught you getting trapped with your own trap, he would never believe you had what it takes to be an Avenger. You contemplated whether you should struggle more to escape, or call it quits and yell for help. You twisted and turned, but the trap was so tight and well done that there was no hope. You swallowed hard before shouting, “Somebody help! I’m stuck!”

“Is that Y/N?!?” You heard Steve gasp from downstairs, as you also heard Natasha telling Steve that she would come help.

You heard footsteps trampling up the stairs quickly, and before you knew it, you had to face the music. The music of embarrassment.

“Hi guys,” you said shyly, avoiding eye contact.

“Y/N, what on earth happened?” Steve and Natasha asked at the same time.

You thought about whether you should lie or not. Lying may make them forgive you faster, but you also knew you were a terrible liar. You took a deep breath before speaking.

“I uhh found this thing, and it trapped me?” You finished, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

“Where did you find my old spy gear?” Natasha asked, shocked that it was even still around and worked. You didn’t say anything, as you weren’t sure how to get out of answering that question.

“Are you okay Y/N? Like is it hurting you?” Steve asked. You shook your head no.

“Well, we’re both glad you’re okay, but I still don’t understand how any of this happened,” Natasha said, looking around the room for any clues.

“Did someone else do this to you?” It’s okay to tell us, we promise we won’t get you in trouble or anything,” Steve said, worried that someone messed with his little sister.

“No, I promise no one else was involved and didn’t hurt me,” you reassured them.

“So if no one else was involved, that means you trapped yourself? Why would you do that?” Steve asked.

“I plead the fifth,” you said, sticking your tongue out at your brother, now being silly after clearing up that you weren’t hurt or picked on by anyone.

Steve looked taken aback at first, but quickly righted himself.

“Oh so you want us to get that information out of you huh?” Steve said, walking over to you, with Natasha not too far behind.

“Wait! No! What are you gonna do to me?” You asked, suddenly feeling very exposed. You were trapped against the wall, no part of you was touching the ground. Only the wall.

“Let’s just say, we know every human’s weakness,” Steve said, grinning at Natasha.

With that, Steve reached out to tickle your sides, causing you to scream with laughter in response.

“STEHEHEVE STAHAHAHAP THAHAHAT,” you laughed, unable to hold it in.

“Better tell us what happened then,” he teased. He knew you were stubborn, so he targeted all your weak spots. Luckily for him, you had many of them to choose from.

You squealed with laughter as he began vibrating his fingers between your ribs, a spot that you absolutely could not stand.

“PLEHEHEASE IHIHI SWEHEHEAR IHIHIHI CAHAHANT TAHAHAHAKE IHIHIT,” you screamed.

“Oh you’ll take it. At least until you spill,” Natasha said, now bending down to tickle your feet with her ridiculously perfectly sharp nails. To make it worse, Steve was now digging into your armpits, making you wheeze with laughter.

They could tell you were getting out of breath, so they gave you a break and a chance to talk.

“Ready to talk little missy,” Natasha said, coming over to poke your tummy. You flinched and bit back a giggle.

“Not to you,” you replied, knowing it would only cause trouble. The redhead began to quickly spider her nails over your kneecaps, a spot you didn’t even know could be ticklish.

You snorted hard, shaking your head from side to side, as you wiggled your legs as much as you could to get away from the tortuous nails.

“Natahahahasha stahahahap plehehehease,” you giggled breathlessly.

“Come on, you know you want to spill,” Natasha teased.

“Okahahahay plehehehease juhuhust stahahahap,” you barely managed to get out. Natasha stopped tickling you, as they both waited for a response.

“We’re waitinggggg,” Steve said goofily.

“Keep waiting,” you said smugly, knowing exactly how to get on your brother’s every nerve.

“You really want me to get that spot, don’t you?” Steve asked with a smirk.

“NO PLEASE! ANYWHERE BUT THEHEHEHEHERE STAHAHAHAP OHOHO MY GOHOHOSH PLEHEHEASE,” you screamed, as Steve wiggled his finger around your belly button.

“Spill, Y/N, or Natasha will go get an electric toothbrush. Your eyes widened at that, assuming it would be a thousand times worse than this already was.

“OHOHOKAHAHAY IHIHI WAS TRYIHING TOHO PROHOVE THAHAT I COULD BEHEHE AN AVEHEHENGER,” you shouted, desperate for your worst tickle spot to stop being tortured.

“Oh Y/N, I know you want to be an Avenger,” Steve said softly.

“But this could’ve been really dangerous. What was your plan to use this anyway?” Natasha asked.

“I was gonna wait for Steve to come in, and I would hide and trap him to prove that I could use the same tools a spy once did,” you said, now feeling small.

To your surprise, Natasha grinned and came over and patted you on the head.

“I have to say, that wasn’t a bad plan, and I would’ve loved to see that happen,” Natasha said with a laugh.

“Hey!! That’s mean,” Steve said, as you giggled.

“I’m sorry for putting myself into potential danger and not listening to you,” you apologized.

“It’s okay, Y/N, we just want you to be safe and away from harm. As an older brother, it’s natural for me to protect you from harm’s way,” Steve said, as you nodded.

“I still think we gotta tickle her a little more as punishment,” Natasha said cheekily.

“Right, make her sorry for all the times she’s asked to be an Avenger,” Steve said, as the two of them were formulating a plan telepathically. With that, Natasha pushed a little on your back, as the trap gave a little room for you to arch your back. “Does this tickle?” Natasha asked, slowly spidering her nails over your lower back.

“YEHEHES IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES NOW STAHAHAHAP,” you laughed, arching your back, leaving your tummy out for Steve to tickle.

You were a mess of laughter now, wanting to both arch your back and suck in your stomach. The fact that one had to be sacrificed was torture to you. You lost it when Steve went back to your belly button, along with the back tickles.

“GUHUHUYS PLEHEHEASE NOHOHO MOHOHORE ENOHOUGH,” you squealed, turning red and beginning to sweat. The two of them had mercy and pulled away, releasing you from the trap.

“Oh my gosh, you guys are the worst. Who the heck is that good at tickling,” you grumbled.

“Us apparently,” Steve said, smiling down at you. You rolled your eyes in response.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Natasha asked, as you nodded.

“Hey don’t worry kid, we all make mistakes. But, I have something in mind that might make you feel better,” Natasha said. Your ears perked up and you turned towards her.

“While you don’t have superhero powers, that doesn’t mean you can’t be a part of our team. Why don’t I make you the master tickler of the team?” Natasha said reactivating the device, this time on Steve, putting him in the exact same situation you were in.

“Natasha don’t you dare!” Steve shouted, trying to remain calm.

“Allow me to tell you exactly how to wreck the brave and strong Captain America,” the redhead said, telling you where to attack.

“You TRAITOHOHOR!” Steve laughed, as you tickled into his deep hollows. A spot that Natasha frequently targeted when they had tickle fights.

“You may be able to beat me in a fight of strength, but you can’t beat me in a tickle fight,” you teased, poking his ribs.

“Y/N STAHAHAP IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES,” Steve squealed, making you giggle. You gave his sides a good squeeze and even found a good spot around his ears and neck, thanks to Natasha’s help.

Eventually you let him go after getting a good amount of revenge. Natasha knew she would be the next target, so she ran off faster than light. Unfortunately for her, she had left the device behind. So you and your older brother planned revenge. The best way siblings could bond. You also had a new title of Master Tickler at the compound, which many of them found ironic given how ticklish you were. But it didn’t matter, since you had an official title with the group you belonged with. The Avengers.

114 notes · View notes

inneedofsupervision · 4 months ago

Text

Marvel Tickle Headcanons (Part 1)

(Tbh, I'm kinda unsure how to write headcanons. Also, I don't really wanna write headcanons everyone has read like, fourty times before, so this is me trying to be kinda original? Yeah, no idea if this works, probably going to figure out how this goes by your reactions.)

Headcanons for Bucky, Steve, Peter and Tony under the Cut.

Bucky

Before the "brainwashed by Hydra to be an assassin and get frozen like a popsicle thing", tickling had been a common thing in Bucky's everyday life. With a stubborn friend like Steve, whose health seems to always be on edge between coming down with something and fighting being underweight and asthmatic, Bucky had to get creative to not hurt his skinny and sickly friend without using too much rough love.

He knows to read someone very well, figuring out quickly what spots to go for and what techniques to use to get someone to submit, or in Steve's case, not get his skinny ass kicked by picking a fight with the neighborhood hooligans. Now that these times are a blink of the past and he can go full-on tickle monster on his very healthy friend, Bucky uses all the weak spots he can find to make a quick process. Someone might think he would be ruthless in his attacks, but the former assassin is anything but. He goes all out on chasing after someone and growling before pouncing on his prey like a predator, but while tickling someone, he keeps a close eye on every reaction. He slows down or stops catching any sign of exhaustion or discomfort. But that also means that pleading won't make him stop when he knows his victim isn't even near their limit (rip Peter and Steve).

The only people trying and succeeding in tickling him are Steve (pretty obvious). And to some people's surprise, Sam and Clint, although the latter two never approach Bucky alone but always have Steve with them, maybe for their safety or to sacrifice the blond, no one knows Bucky is pleased with grabbing the closest person he can get his hands on. Although he doesn't actively go for it, tickling is such a harmless, silly little thing that Bucky doesn't even mind much when someone tries to do it to him (and fails most of the time). It makes him feel included in this new world, gifting him a moment to feel like the man from Brooklyn who looks out for his dumb and heroic friend and goofs around like anyone else.

Steve

In the past, he hated getting tickled. Okay, maybe not hated, but it sucked to be so easily overpowered by that smug punk he calls a friend. After the serum did its number on him, providing him with a significant boost of enhancements and getting rid of his poor health, his view on tickling changed. Not drastically, as it still sucks when Bucky towers him with his lips pulled into a smirk and his hands digging into his ribs, but now he could fight back. And he does fight back. No one else probably fights back as much in a tickle fight as Steve Grant Rogers, and not because the feeling of getting tickled bothers him that much, and he hates it, but simply because he finally can.

If anyone tries tickling Steve Rogers, they can be 100% sure he will retaliate. And he will be smug about it. Very much. Things most of the time escalate in a full-blown tickle fight, with a bit of roughhousing and wrestling on the floor or training mats before he pins his victim down and unleashes one hell of an attack. He will tease and stop to ask what's so funny, only to go right in before the poor person under him can answer. Despite being Captain America and showcasing a strict image of a leader to the public, he can be relatively playful. If in the right mood, sitting next to Steve at movie night can turn into quite an experience (rip Peter and his naive soul).

Tony

Tony Stark hates getting tickled. And not the hate as in he slaps the offending hand away with a laugh, but seriously cannot stand being touched that way. Tony didn't carry any childhood memories of his parents being playful with him in that way, and being the son of Howard Stark put him in too much risk to be out as a child to make friends who could provide that kind of experience. He grew up receiving meager love and affection through touch. His first experience getting tickled came with growing closer to his assigned roommate at MIT, who quickly became a fusion of older brother, babysitter, and his best and only friend.

After Afghanistan, Tony's aversion to being touched skyrocketed. The billionaire has no problem stepping into the personal space of others. But any surprising touches or growing close to stepping onto his circle of personal space makes him flee the scene or make a snappish quip, quickly reminding the person that he's the one messing but will be the last person you messed with. The only people he is okay with being touched by are his best friends, Rhodey and Happy, his fiancee, Pepper, and the annoyingly likable intern who crawled right into Tony's small ring of favorite people, Peter Parker. The rest of the Avengers and him are close. A pat on the back and a squeeze of the wrist and shoulder are okay with him, but everything above that is strictly out of the question. Tony needs to be in control of the situation.

As mentioned, getting into other's personal space isn't much of a problem for Tony. Stepping a little closer than needed (Steve), leaning over someone's legs to snatch the remote away and change channels (Sam), flicking someone against the forehead (Clint), nudging someone his elbow in the side to reach the freshly brewed coffee before them (Bruce), all of these are no problem for the eccentric man.

It isn't surprising that Peter Parker would fall victim to Tony's quirks of ignoring people's personal space sooner or later. With a teenager who can get caught up in whatever little project he is working on as much as Tony, the latter learns a simple "Peter?" doesn't do much to get the kid's attention. A poke results in a jump, a simple question to a quip, and a knowing grin into a wild chase that ends with a pretty one-sided tickle fight on the old couch near the wall. Tony doesn't hold back from pointing out how different actions cause different reactions, effortlessly remembering what he needs to do to get the desired effect from the kid wriggling under him, giggling his head off. Despite not having experience, the kid tells him every time he is the most evil tickler that walks on earth, resulting in Tony smirking and Peter gulping, having dug his own grave. Tony knows the kid is humoring him, having heard the hilarious screeches the kid does when Barnes gets his hands on him, but he feels weirdly warm at the thought that Peter let him have this.

Peter

Peter Parker is many things. A good student and nephew. A great intern and an even better vigilante. But he's also clumsy and a terrible liar, which is a bad combination when being as ticklish and currently at the mercy of his mentor. Having Tony know about being ticklish made Peter want to yeet himself off the tower without his web shooters. Peter had been tickled often by his aunt and uncle. It also happened in playfights with Ned when they were younger and sometimes even now when feeling particularly energetic and a little too hyped-up through sugar and energy drinks. To Peter, tickling is just another form of affection, like hugging or running a hand through his curls, although a lot more playful. He likes receiving affection, melting in hugs, and grinning when an arm gets thrown around his shoulder. What leaves him embarrassed is the teasing that comes with it. Getting pointed out how much he's giggling, or how wide his smile grows was like pouring fuel into the fire. Getting smirked at and having the person tickling him laugh with him didn't help much either, leaving the teen curling up and trying to hide his reddening face while his shoulder shook with laughter. The teen is practically ticklish everywhere once he registers what kind of position he's in. Sometimes, Peter suspects his spidey sense is making the effect the touches have on him made it worse, but it wasn't like he could test that theory.

Peter is quick to figure out what to do to get people to laugh, having gained experience over the years playing with Ned. But the kid isn't the type to pin someone down and tickle them mercilessly for minutes. He will let up but won't let the other person get revenge without some playfighting and getting chased around. He is also not below sticking to the ceiling if that means delaying getting wrecked by whoever he made chase after him.

24 notes · View notes