#Ler!steve Rogers

[widowsistersandfriends]

Sneak Peek

Summary: You are too eager to open your presents, so you figure one peek won't hurt. The Avengers know just the right way to playfully punish you.

Note: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! I hope you guys have been able to spend quality time with family and friends! I hope you enjoy this fic!

Word Count: 1644

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You were living at the Avengers compound with many of the Avengers, including the Widow sisters, Steve, Peter, Wanda, Kate and many others. This was your second time celebrating Christmas with them, so you were more used to the traditions. 

Bright and early in the morning, you guys would open presents and then eat a nice big breakfast. Each year they would rotate who would cook. This year, it was you, Peter and Wanda. However, you were looking forward most to opening presents. You were so eager that you couldn’t wait for morning.

You snuck downstairs quietly, making sure to not make any noise to not get caught. You tiptoed towards the tree, using your phone flashlight to look for the gifts that had your name on it. You grabbed a box that had your name on it, being careful to not let the wrapping paper make too much noise. 

You had succeeded in making a pile of your gifts and were ready to start peeking. However, you were so focused on being quiet that you didn’t notice Fanny and Lucky coming up behind you. The two dogs were so interested in the tree and presents and came up next to you. Fanny licked your face, as Lucky nuzzled into your neck.

You let out a yelp of surprise, gently pushing the dogs away.

“Fanny! Lucky! What are you guys doing?” You whispered, knowing the dogs would not answer.

The dogs panted and started sniffing the boxes around you.

“Don’t open those!” You said, trying to move them away from the dogs. However, you got frazzled and let a few boxes topple, causing a loud noise. 

You panicked and wondered about what to do next. You could either stay and tell them the truth, stay and blame it on the dogs, or run and hide in your bedroom.

You decided to stay and blame it on the dogs.

“I owe you one,” you whispered to the dogs, as they continued to smile. 

“Y/N, what on earth is going on?” Natasha asked, walking out and looking half asleep.

“The dogs were trying to open the presents, so I came down to try and stop them before it was too late,” you explained, hoping that your lie would work.

Natasha eyed you suspiciously, knowing that the dogs were asleep before they went to bed.

“How did you know they were opening the presents?” Natasha asked you.

“Umm, I just heard them,” you insisted stubbornly.

“You know we have security cameras around the compound, right?” Natasha said, now smirking.

“Don’t check them!” You blurted out

“What is all this racket?” Yelena said, coming out of their bedroom, her accent strong as she had just woken up.

“I caught Y/N lying and trying to peek at her presents,” Natasha said, as you shook your head and tried to retell your lie to Yelena. 

“It was your crazy dog!” You insisted, scooting away from the two sisters.

“Let’s just see, shall we?” Natasha said, reviewing the security camera footage with Yelena.

Just as the footage ended, you made a run for your room.

“Get back here, Y/N!” The two sisters called after you.

“Never!” You shouted, giggling because you knew you were busted.

You closed the door quickly to your room, only to have it opened a second later.

“No! Leave!” You said through giggles, as you backed up against the headboard of your bed.

“You’re in so much trouble, little one,” Yelena said, as the two sisters pounced on you and pinned you to the bed.

“Nohohoho! Lehehet me gohohoho,” you giggled hysterically.

“We’re not even tickling you yet,” Natasha said with a grin.

“Buhuhut I knohohow you wihill,” you giggled, shrieking as Natasha began drilling into your ribs.

“GAAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP,” you screamed, unable to squirm much underneath them.

“I can’t stop because I have to tickle little girls who lie all the time,” Natasha said, listening to the sweet sound of your giggles.

“Me too,” Yelena said, now tickling your feet and joining in.

“NOHOHO IHIHIT’S TOHOO MUHUHUCH,” you cried, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

“Awww what are you, a little baby?” Natasha teased, worming her hands into your armpits.

You wheezed with laughter, tapping the bed to signal that you surrendered.

The two girls let you have a break, knowing that you were too ticklish to handle them for a long time all at once. 

“So, are you going to tell the truth?” Yelena asked, giving your knee a squeeze.

“No!” You yelped, trying to pull your leg away.

“Liars get tickled~” Yelena said, switching spots with Natasha and squeezing your sides rapidly.

“AHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHO MOHOHORE,” you squealed, arching your back to no avail.

“Admit it,” Yelena said, grinning down at you.

“OHOHOKAY FIHIHINE IHIHI WAHAHAS SNOOHOHOOPING,” you shouted, laughing until you were pink.

“That’s what I thought,” Yelena said, poking your tummy.

“You guys are so rude,” you pouted.

“Aww c’mon don’t act like you don’t love to be tickled,” Natasha teased, as you blushed and didn’t answer.

“It’s late, Y/N, you need to go to sleep,” Yelena scolded playfully. 

“It’s a little too late for that,” Natasha said, as the sun started to rise.

“Well, guess you’ll get to open those presents after all,” Yelena said.

“So you tickled me for nothing?” You asked in disbelief.

“Oh don’t worry, we had a blast,” Natasha said, as you rolled your eyes playfully. 

The three of you headed downstairs to open presents. You eagerly greeted the others downstairs, excited to open presents. You all sat in a circle and took turns opening your gifts. You received some new clothes, a book of your favorite series, a new journal, and some colored pens.

“Alright, let’s get that breakfast going,” Wanda said, in charge of the two kids helping her.

“Do we have to,” you and Peter both whined, wanting to play with and use your new gifts.

“I know you guys want to play that new video game Peter got, but this year it’s our turn to cook,” Wanda said.

“I refuse,” you said cheekily, as Wanda raised an eyebrow at you.

“Is that so?” She asked.

You nodded your head nervously, as Wanda pinned you with her powers immediately.

“No please! I’ve already been tickled,” you pleaded, knowing that this time would be even worse. 

“You can never have too many tickles,” Wanda said, squeezing your hips.

“HAHHAHAHAHAAHA,” you laughed, unable to hold it in.

“You know there’s no escaping this, Y/N,” Wanda said, using her nails to tickle under your chin, making you squeal with laughter.

“Wow, you’re ticklish everywhere,” Wanda teased, as you shook your head in denial.

“STAHAHAHAHAP,” you cried, as Wanda tickled away at your stomach.

“PEHEHETER IHIHISNT HEHEHELPING EITHER!” You cried, trying to avert their attention.

“Hmm, you’re right,” Wanda said, pinning the young boy next to you.

“Steve? Wanna help?” Wanda asked.

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Steve said, switching positions with Wanda. The witch was now by Peter, pinning his arms above his head and tickling his armpits.

“NOHOHOHOT THEHEHERE,” he cried, knowing that his armpits were his worst spot.

“You’re just as much of a troublemaker as Y/N,” Wanda teased, as the poor boy was crying with laughter.

Steve came over to you, giving you a smirk.

“Well well well, what do we have here, Y/N? You just can’t stop causing trouble huh?” Steve asked, going towards your feet.

You groaned in anticipation, curling up your toes to protect them.

“Just get it over with,” you whined.

Steve decided to mess with you, going for a spot you weren’t expecting. He started to tickle your shins and over the tops of your feet, making you jerk out of surprise.

“GAH NO WHY AHAHAA,” you laughed, jumping from the sensation.

“Gotta continue the storyline of you being ticklish everywhere,” Steve said, now scratching behind the back of your knee.

“STAHAHAHAP THAHAHAT TIHIHICKLES,” you shouted.

“That’s the point,” Steve said with a grin.

“Now are you and Peter gonna help with the cooking?” Steve asked, continuing to torment your lower body.

You looked over at Peter, as he had given in after a bit of tickling from Wanda. She was the ultimate ler, but you were also the most stubborn girl on earth, so you were not going to give in.

“Maybe Peter will help, but I won’t,” you said stubbornly, sticking your tongue out at Steve.

“Guess we gotta go for the kill, huh?” Wanda said, as Steve sat on your hips and Wanda sat above your hands.

“OH GOD NO! WAIT! I’LL HELP!” You quickly gave in.

“Hmm, I think we have to make sure,” Wanda said, as she used her magic to tickle all over your neck and started raking her nails rapidly in your bare armpits. Meanwhile, Steve began to wiggle his finger in your belly button, making you shriek with laughter.

“OHOHO MY GOHOHOD STAHAHAP IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAD!” You screamed.

“Yeah? Then we must be doing our job right,” Steve teased, as your face turned bright red from the laughter and embarrassment. 

“IHIHI CAHAHAHANT! HEHEHELP IHIHI GIHIHIVE,” you cried, panting as they finally let you up.

“That’s what you get for being a brat,” they all said, making you feel greatly outnumbered.

“I am not a brat,” you insisted.

“We know you love being tickled, so the brat role fits you well,” Yelena chimed in, ruffling your hair.

You pouted and would never admit it, but you also knew you couldn’t take anymore tickles, so you decided to go help cook.

That Christmas was one of your favorites since it was the first time you helped cook the traditional breakfast. You looked forward to spending more time with them as the years went on, which also conveniently came with something you loved. Tickles.

[autisticallyasexual]

Captain America

okay so just imagine—Steve Rogers is like crazy kind and respectful and what not, right? But… when he’s tickling…

“just because I’m mine doesn’t mean I intend to go easy on you, {Lee’s name}”

[berrys-hide-out]

Go check this out! Go.

This just made my f*ing night 😭🩷✨

I LOVE the playfulness in this! 🫂✨ thank you so much for tagging me Vis! I had to keep myself from giggling along 🤭✨(not that I managed- I was giggling like a lil gremlin)

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.

"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."

[valiantphantomangel]

Hello there! ^^ I have a small request if you’ve got the time and opportunity, but I’ve been thinking about Lee!reader being really giddy with legs kicking, giggles and a bit of whining bc of the teasing, with maybe ler!loki? Maybe he found smth out or reader is just easily flustered the second one breaks through to her and he finds it amusing?

Just if ya got time and want to ✌️

Have a great weekend! :)

A/n: hiya!! I hope you enjoy!!

Darling...

"Now now darling, no need to be so aggressive" Loki tutted as he wrestled you down onto the couch and took a seat on your legs.

He grinned down at you before slowly spidering his finger tips over your tummy which was exposed since you wore a tank top.

"Lokes don't you dare" you giggled as you peeled his hands from your tummy which only resulted in having your hands pinned down above your head by one of his hands while the other ghosted over your waist and tummy.

Now you might be wondering how you ended up in this situation. Well the stupidly easy answer is, the God of Mischief happened to walk by when you were being tickled to tears by Steve and Tony for insulting their age and hadn't let you live it down since.

"Loki Laufeyson, don't you god Damm darEHAHHAHHAH" you couldn't even finish your sentence before 5 fingers squeezed around your ribs.

Eventually he decided that 5 fingers weren't enough to torture you so he let go of your arms to full on attack your hips and sides while blowing raspberries in your neck.

Your feet kicked out widely as you squirmed around underneath him, head tossed back as you screamed in laughter.

"By the nines! You're one sensitive little love" Lokes chuckled as he clawed at your bottom ribs.

"STOPHIHIHI ITHIHIHIHI"!! you screamed as your cheeks turned red from being teased.

"No can do darling, your laugh is simply just too adorable to ignore" He said with a smirk before turning himself around so he was sitting on your thighs with his back to you and squeezed your knees.

"AGHAHAHAHHAHA" you absolutely lost it tossing and turning around to escape his ticklish fingers which followed you everywhere.

"My my, your ticklish everywhere aren't you little Dove? I understand why the man of iron and the captain like to do this" Loki laughed before deciding to let up so you can breath. Lifting himself off of your legs to sit next to you.

You gasped for air in between the remaining giggles as you curled up in a ball "You. Jerk" you managed to get out but the giant smile on your face betrays you.

He just chuckled before running his fingers through your hair "There, does make it up?" He said knowing much you loved it when he played with your hair.

You just hummed in response, relaxing now that you weren't being tortured anymore.

And no matter how much you tried to deny it, you had loved every single second of his merciless tickling.

And Loki knew that all too well.

[harrystylesboobear]

Helpless Helper

700ish words

Requests are open!!

I'm not the greatest at pronouns so ignore that please :) 

Ler steve, Ler Bucky, Ler reader, Lee reader, Lee steve, Lee bucky, and a little bit of teasy Tony.

Y/n walks in on Steve and Bucky having a T-word fight, and they decide to get her involved.  

“Hey guy-”  you got caught off as the scene you saw infront of you was surprising. It looks as if they sat down to watch an old timey war movie as the Tv was still playing. 

“What are you doing?” you asked this because the two men looked to be wrestling in the middle of the floor. But your question was soon answered as you heard Cap cackling under the pile of him and bucky.  

“Arent you two too old for that?”

“You're never too old! Especially when old captain here says that he can't be tickled by me since the “Syrum made it impossible”.” He said that sarcastically because he was actively proving him wrong. 

“Ok, well you two have fun but im out” you were about to run out of there but you heard cap calling out to you.

“WAHAHAIT YYY/NN PLEHEHEASESE HEHEHELPEHP”

“Yea im not getting in the middle of that.” you said, eyeng Bucky

“ IFIFIF YOHOHOHU DOHOHOHNT I SWEHEHARE TOHOHO GOHOHOHD IHIHI WIHIHIL WREHEHECK YOUHUHUH WHEHEHEN IHIHIH GEHEHET OUHUHT”

“No Y/n, dont interfere or else you’ll be next”

“Well both of your threats won’t work, because I'm not ticklish.” As she said this her cheeks flared up, because although she didnt know the extent of how ticklish she was, she sure knew she was. 

“Judging by that blush, I doubt that doll”

“HEHEHEHELP”

Y/n couldent just leave him like this, he was her friend after all. You walk over and shove Bucky off of the poor guy.

“ You ok?” You asked Steve in a teasing tone, and he just replied with a groan.

“I mean, I geuss Bucky was telling the tRUTH buhuhuckyhyhyhy” You said falling back into his arms.

“ I thought you said you werent ticklish, Hmm?” he said as he dug into your sides

“ShuhuhT yohohohUR DahahHAHm mOUHUHUTH” 

“ language!” Steve said as he started to make circles in your hips.

“OHOHOH myhyhy gohoOHOd GuyuyYUyS! I HeELElpEd YoHU STeVe!”

“Oh I know, but you hesitated, and I’m getting back for when you put dye in my shampoo.”

“CohohohmE OhohohNn”  

“Huh I wonder what you would have had to do to get in that predicament” Tony said as he walked in the room. “I didnt know you two were ticklish! I could hear you from the lab Capcicle!  Im defedently saving this for future use” He said looking at the predicament you were in. 

“ToHOHOnY HELehEHp” 

“No can do sweetheart! Wouldent stop this for the world. Have you guys found her death spot yet?” 

“Death spot?” Cap said confused.

“A death spot. Like your knees.” Bucky replied.

The captain responded with an embarrassed smile. 

“Aww! Is the famous Captain America blushing?” Bucky said, trying to get a reaction from him.

“Enough about me! I want to find this so-called death spot” Just as he said that, he scratched at her ribs.

“EUKDISJ STEEEHEHEHEHEHEHVEHEHEHE STOHOHOHOHOP” 

“Oh look you found it! Y/n i'm so going to use this against you the next time you touch my machines.” And with that, Tony left the room. 

Steve and bucky continued until your laughter went silet. 

‘Yohohu guhuhuys ahahahrehe mehehan” it took you a few minutes, but you recoverd. 

Then Steve gave you a look, and then he grabbed bucky. 

“Get him Y/n!” Steve said, and he didnt have to tell you twice. You immediately dug into his sides.

“Yhyhy/nanan stohohohpop”

“Steve, where is his death spot?”

“STHEVHEHE SHUHUT YOHOUR MOUTH”

“Now why would I do that? Going straight to the big guns I see, get his pits”

“STEHEHEVEHE WHYHYHY”

You slipped your hands in his armpits after a bit of struggling. 

YHYHYHY/NHNHNHN YOUHUHUR SOHOHOH GONHOHOHNHA GEHEHET IHIHIHIT”

“You're in no position to be making threats, old man, no offence Steve.”

“None taken” he said with a scoff.

When his laugh went silent you stopped.

“You ok over there Buck?”

“Youhuhure Dehehehad Meheheat” 

“Oh that's bad Y/n” Steve said, feeling bad for you.

“Your next Rogers, Youve got ten seconds Y/n.. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6…”

He didnt have to tell you twice, you were out of there by 9.

Part 2????

[leegemma]

Hey!

Loved your marvel fic and was wondering if we could get more of that.

Maybe steve/nat x teen ticklish reader?

Something really fluffy, like she's been on the phone for a long time talking to Peter, her boyfriend (I had to 😂) and they make her by tickling her?

I completely understand if not, thanks anyways 💕🙏

Hi! Thank you for the request. It took me a while but here it is:) just a warning- I started out super inspired and motivated but was just super exhausted towards the end.

Hope you enjoy it anyways and please keep sending requests in! Got three that I'm working on already ✨️

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

You laughed when your boyfriend made a joke, staring into the screen and listening to him telling you about his day. "And then there was this huge explosion- like, y/n I thought I was going to die. Like, really. And then I looked up and there was this guy and he was all like big and strong and-"

You heard a knock on your door, and paused peter. "One sec Pete. Come innnn!"

"Hey." Steve smiled at you as he walked over o where you were on your bed.

You raised on eyebrow and watched him sit down on the edge of the bed. "What?"

Steve frowned. "A bit of an attitude there, huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever Steve. Do you need anything? I'm on face time."

Steve shook his head in disapproval. "Yeah, I can see that. You've been on it for hours now. Who are you talking to?"

"Just peter." You turned the front of your phone towards Steve so he can see peter.

"Y/n, who is- oh, hi mister Rogers!"

You smiled as you heard your boyfriend's voice go up a notch when he noticed he was now talking to captain America.

Even Steve couldn't help but smile a little. "Hello peter, do you think you and this grumpy creature are going to hang up anytime soon?"

You groaned while peter only seemed distressed. "Um- yeah! Yeah, we could do that. We'll just talk later. Or not, you decide. Or- No you don't... but I mean- you know what I mean, right? You know everything beca-"

"Peter shush, we're not hanging up." You turned the screen back to face you.

"It's okay y/n, I really don't mind." Peter tried to reassure you, but you weren't having any of it.

"No! He doesn't get to tell us what to do! We're old enough to decide for ourselves."

You glared at Steve.

"What is happening here? I heard someone raising their voice." Nat walked in, leaning against the doorway.

"Oh great." You mumbled.

"Well you see, y/n has been on face time with Peter for the last 5 hours. And I really don't think it's healthy to be on screen for that long. So I asked her to get off and she just got all sassy." Steve explained, looking at you the whole time. Not even glancing at nat.

"I see..." she smirked, seeing your feet popping out from under your blanket.

She came closer and sat down right next to them.

"Well y/n, I think you should listen to Steve."

You huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, as if..."

"Okay, well. Don't say I didn't warn you." Nat shrugged and started spidering all over your feet.

"Warn me? What do you me- MEehehean!" You squealed and tried to pull your feet away, but Nat was holding them tight.

Steve grinned. "This is more like it.."

"Wahahait! Nohohoho!!" You tried to twist away, your phone still in your hand.

"What is happening there?" Peter asked, confused.

"Oh just tickling y/n." Nat smiled as your laughter went up an octave when she moved up to squeeze your knee with one hand, and kept going on one foot with the other.

"Noho way! Y/n is ticklish?" Peter chuckled in surprise.

"Gohod bye peheter!" You giggled out and quickly hung up the phone.

"Oh so now you hang up?" Steve shook his head again and started kneading your sides.

"NOHOHO STOHOP!" You were already pretty much out of breathe, flopping around on the bed.

"You didn't stop the call when steve asked you to!" Nat exclaimed, now tickling both your thighs.

"What happened y/n, why are you laughing?" Steve smirked down at you as he wiggled his way under your arms.

"PLEASHAHAHASE!" You shook your head violently and tried to hit Steve with your arms.

"So aggressive." Steve chuckled, looking at nat and sharing a quick laugh with her before turning back to you and holding  both your wrists above your head with only one of his hands.

"Tickletickletickle y/n/n!" Nat wiggled her fingers above your face teasingly.

You closed your eyes, unable to take the teasing and have to look into her eyes.

"Hey Nat, do you think y/n has all her ribs?" Steve asked, putting on his best 'thinking' face.

"I'm not sure Steve, she has been on that phone for an awful long time... better check..." she said, digging into your hips at that moment.

Steve nodded. "Absolutely." He then started counting your ribs, for what felt like hours but really just lasted 2 minutes before you went into silent laughter.

"Alright, you gonna apologise for being rude to me and not getting off that thing when I asked you to?" Steve asked.

You nodded, still unable to talk as nat was pretty much killing your hips.

"Go on then." She smirked.

"IM SORRY!" You managed to spit out.

"Well, i forgive you. Now, do you want to do something together?" Steve pulled you in for a hug.

"I want sleep." You replied, yawning right afterwards.

"Aww... poor baby." Nat chuckled and grabbed you from steve, pushing you to lay down on your bed and laying down next to you, grabbing your remote and putting your favorite movie on.

You fell asleep between the two of them, and when you woke up. You had a couple of messages waiting to you from your boyfriend. Yeah... you forgot he knew now...

[marrziy]

eu te imploro, faça uma fanfic do capitão america plmds

ESSE HOMEM É LINDO E EU NÃO AGUENTO MAIS 😭😭

Steve Rogers x Male Reader

"Dura matina"

M . C . U

★. Sinopse: Steve acorda de manhãzinha com a barraca armada. A ereção grossa do herói pulsa dentro da cueca e ele faz manha por alívio, pressionando-se contra você na cama, mordiscando sua nuca e esfregando os quadris contra os seus até que você desperte, grogue, e o ajude a gozar.

★. Gênero: hot (smut)

★. Palavras: 2.1k

*Eu não sei se você queria um hot, mas esse plot tava enraizado na minha cabeça, então mesclei e voilà! O final é meio abrupto, mas espero que goste <3

E a propósito, mencionem os tipos de enredos que vcs querem ler quando forem fazer pedidos (hot, fluff, terror etc) pra me deixar mais situado, pq se depender de mim, esse perfil vira um cabaré.

2° pessoa - presente

Entre o apagão e a consciência, seus sentidos o puxam para o lado mais excitado, salientando o peso esmagando suas costas e o choque estalando em sua nuca. Um arrepio prazeroso sobe da virilha até o ventre, levando-o a estremecer e abrir os olhos. O quarto está escuro, mas, ao seu lado na cama, os números luminosos do despertador sobre a mesa de cabeceira suavizam a escuridão. Você pisca freneticamente e tensiona os músculos, estralando os dedos dos pés ao contraí-los, quase gemendo com o gostoso espreguiçar.

Seus movimentos permitem que sinta mais do corpo forte pressionado contra o seu. Você sabe que é Steve; o calor dele é inconfundível.

Com o cérebro totalmente ativo, você sente tudo e reage ao que lhe é dado. De bruços, sua nuca vulnerável é vítima de mordidas pouco contidas que te fazem encolher, e, mais abaixo, seu herói te fode vestido, batendo a virilha com força contra sua bunda. A cada investida, você afunda mais os quadris no colchão, mas é sempre puxado de volta pelo braço musculoso ao redor da sua cintura.

Steve não usa nada na parte de cima, mas está contido por uma cueca e uma calça moletom no sul do corpo. Mesmo assim, é monstruosa a forma como ele vaza e escurece o tecido cinza-claro da calça, não se retendo à primeira camada. O pré-sêmen do seu namorado alaga tanto que parece que ele está tendo um orgasmo, e nem você escapa da umidade, tendo a parte traseira da sua cueca inundada pela porra abundante de Steve, enquanto ele roça freneticamente em você.

Ele abandona sua nuca com uma lambida extensa nas marcas que deixou. — Solzinho, acorda. Eu preciso de você. — todo molhadinho e agitado, Steve sussurra rouco no pé do seu ouvido, esquentando seu pescoço com arfadas quentes. — Preciso mesmo…

— Tô acordado. — você responde baixinho, sua voz quase imperceptível. — Mas amor… — segue uma pausa para coçar os olhos e desembaçar a vista cansada. Você se estica o quanto pode para ver as horas no despertador e geme fatigado com a marcação exata piscando na tela digital. — São cinco da manhã! E é sábado! — falar em voz alta parece solidificar ainda mais o raiar. — A gente transa depois… — você derrete no colchão, afundando o rosto no travesseiro, o que abafa suas palavras. — E para de esfregar a pica em mim! Tá certo que você é meu goldenzinho, mas agir que nem um cachorro no cio é encarnar demais no papel.

Quando Steve agarra seus ombros e te vira, pondo você de barriga para cima, você sorri e revira os olhos, já esperando por aquilo.

Ele te prende em uma prisão corpulenta: as mãos, esparramadas no travesseiro, uma de cada lado da sua cabeça, e os braços, cercando à esquerda e à direita, são como grades. O torso erguido, que te cobre, serve de teto, e o pau te cutucando representa um guarda frustrado e impertinente.

Seu crime?

Ser absurdamente desejável, mesmo estático na maior das monotonias.

— Tá tão duro. Você sente? — fincado entre suas pernas, Steve pressiona suas virilhas. Ele estremece com o pr��prio movimento, jogando a cabeça para trás, destacando a saliência das veias no pescoço. O vingador morde o lábio inferior e você faz o mesmo, contendo a conclusão dos nervos agitados. — Acordei assim. Faz um tempo que não acontece. — encarar aquela face ébria de tesão faz você desejá-lo enraizando dentro do seu corpo. O sono já não cabe mais. — Querido, eu quero muito goz… gozar! Sinto que vou explodir se não esvaziar dentro de você. Por favor… você pode me a-ajudar com isso? Vai ser tão gostoso… e depois eu faço qualquer coisa que você pedir! Eu juro!

— Você já me acordou mesmo, ent... — antes que sua frase fosse digna de ponto final, Steve engatinha sobre você, sentando no seu colo, prendendo seu quadril entre as coxas e fazendo pressão contra sua ereção. Você aperta a cintura firme de Steve, e ao sentir o encaixe do seu inchaço entre o vão das nádegas do loiro, a gagueira é instantânea. — E-então vá em fren-frente. — você sente que pode gozar na cueca a qualquer momento.

Ainda montado em você, Steve ergue a pélvis e aperta o volume que enche a calça, manchando ainda mais o moletom com o pré-gozo que vaza da ponta inchada. Ele abaixa o mínimo da peça, o suficiente para expor a cueca preta, que, mesmo diluída no escurinho do quarto, em nada reduz o volume grosso que cobre. Steve brinca com o elástico, fazendo o cós chicotear a pele, atraindo sua atenção para o V que leva ao abdômen cheio de gominhos saltados, gostosos de morder.

Steve jura ver corações nos seus olhos quando finalmente bota o pau para fora. Ele sorri, corado. 'Adoravelmente vagabunda' é como ele te define.

A glande vazando te hipnotiza; é de se refletir como coisas em formato de cogumelo podem ser atordoantes.

Salivando, você leva a mão para apertar, esfregar e acariciar.

Entretanto, Steve agarra seus pulsos e os prende ao lado da sua cabeça. Você choraminga, resistindo inutilmente ao aperto do loiro. Também sentindo falta da bunda esmagando sua excitação, você eleva os quadris, buscando estímulo, já mais eufórico que Steve. Ele ri baixinho, e isso multiplica sua agitação.

— Calma… — a voz do herói vem rouca e suave, acarretando em você pulsando e molhando a frente da cueca com porra quente e espessa. Steve te encara, curioso com a forma como você respira rápido, se contorce e treme embaixo dele. Ele junta os pontinhos e sorri largo, curvando-se e esfregando a bochecha na sua. — Awwn, eu nem enfiei e você já gozou? Que fofo! — Steve solta seus pulsos agora que seu corpo está fraco e sensível.

Você tem espasmos enquanto, ocasionalmente, mais sêmen vaza e encharca sua cueca a cada contração. Você quer retaliar, dizer que é constrangedor, não fofo. Mas a satisfação física é tanta que você apenas aceita relaxar e assume que é completamente rendido e reativo ao seu namorado, a ponto de ele conseguir extrair seus orgasmos com o mínimo de esforço.

Steve estabiliza a palma suavemente sobre a sua virilha, deslizando-a para frente, agarrando a barra da sua camiseta larga e a erguendo até o peitoral. Ele envolve seu dorso com um braço, apoiando suas costas no antebraço e afundando os dedos na lateral da sua cintura. Steve te puxa contra si, unindo seus corpos acalorados. Com as pernas separadas paralelamente no colchão, o loiro arrasta o quadril para frente até montar na sua cintura e descansar o pau pesado sobre seu estômago.

Sob pressão, a pele ferve, e o suor que escorre da testa ao tronco de Steve mistura-se com seus fluidos e vira sal temperado, combinando a essência que transpira de cada corpo.

As sobrancelhas se juntam, os cílios umedecem, e Steve passa a suspirar no limite entre rosnados e gemidos conforme esfrega o cacete grosso na pele suave da sua barriga, mantendo-o contido abaixo dele, refém do abraço que te cerca e das coxas grossas que prendem sua cintura no lugar.

Steve empurra uma vez e choraminga.

Empurra novamente e estremece.

O terceiro impulso é lento. Steve quase funde seus corpos com a pressão que faz para prolongar a sensação gostosa.

O quarto movimento é desajeitado e trêmulo.

A partir do quinto, a contagem se perde.

O vai e vem é errático; é quase raivosa a forma como o loiro corre atrás do ápice. As investidas são rápidas, o pau babão vaza, e estalos molhados são produzidos com o atrito entre a rigidez agressora e a maciez acomodada. Você estremece sempre que a cabecinha vermelha é jogada para frente; aquele pau é tão grande que te faz perder a noção da distância e jurar que a glande roçando em seu abdômen vai, em algum momento, parar na sua boca. Isso resulta em estômago frio e calor por toda a face.

As bolas pesadas de Steve, esparramadas abaixo do seu umbigo, acumulam parte do pré-sêmen que escorre da ponta e, quando o herói decide triplicar a potência e realmente afundar o cacete rijo, ajudam a espalhar porra por todo o seu abdômen. — Caralho, amor... — Steve grunhe, a voz áspera embargada pela saliva que se acumula na boca. Ele amassa o lençol com a mão livre e se pressiona com mais força contra você, tensionando as fibras. O corpo vigoroso, de constituição maciça, agora trêmulo e sem estruturas, deita completamente sobre sua forma menor, afundando você no colchão enquanto te afoga em suor e porra. — Su-sua barriguinha é... é tão gostosa... tã-tão boa de me esfregar... — sussurra abafado, com o rosto perdido no vão do seu pescoço e a boca ocupada mordendo o travesseiro.

Steve trava na posição, estremecendo da cabeça aos pés. Ele mantém os quadris jogados para frente e ofega alto. Para a insatisfação dos seus ouvidos - felizes com a respiração errática que os aquece -, o loiro geme tão profundamente que o som se perde no interior da garganta, sem alcançar o exterior.

Tudo isso enquanto o pau inchado do felizardo se agita, pressionado contra sua barriga, latejando tão forte que você sente cada veia pulsar. Já era quentinha a sensação daquele pau grande roçando na sua pele, mas quando Steve entra em erupção, gozando, aquilo ferve.

As bolas cheias contraem, esvaziando, impulsionando toda a carga para a cabecinha irritada. Um jato grosso esquenta seu abdômen e o de Steve, melando seus corpos de branco. O esguicho é tão potente que atinge seu peitoral e queixo. Seu namorado não hesita em se responsabilizar. — O plano era gozar dentro... — o loiro choraminga, sensível, te limpando e sujando ao mesmo tempo, lambendo a própria porra em seus peitos enquanto mais porra vaza do pau choroso.

Torrentes lentas e abundantes ainda são liberadas da fenda, lambuzando seu estômago e escorrendo pelas curvas. O aperto de Steve afrouxa, mas ele não desgruda de você. O loiro raspa a colher no manjar, aproveitando os últimos resquícios do ápice, tendo espasmos até a derradeira gota vazar.

Steve sorri com a boca no seu mamilo, deleitando-se da forma como você estremece enquanto ele morde e lambe a trilha de esperma que inaugurou em seu corpo e que já está interditando. O herói salta até seu queixo, abocanhando a região ossuda, eliminando as evidências da luxúria.

Você está confortável. É gostosinho como Steve te devora; seu estômago formiga, as juntas estalam e relaxam em seguida. Tão próximos, palpitando audíveis, peito a peito acelerado, respirando vida face a face. Em paz e eriçado, suas pálpebras pesam e você se aconchega, prestes a retornar para a inconsciência de momentos atrás.

Mas você arregala os mirantes ao ter seu corpo molenga agarrado pela cintura e erguido, sendo colocado sentado com as costas apoiadas na cabeceira da cama. Você percebe que está sem camiseta e que não faz a mínima ideia de quando ela foi tirada.

Steve, com os joelhos afundando o colchão nas laterais da sua cintura, te olha de cima, elevando-se sobre você. — Mas o plano ainda está de pé, — ele acaricia suas bochechas, encarando sua expressão atordoada com paixão corada. — Então abre a boquinha e chupa, príncipe. Deixa ele bem molhado pra eu meter gostoso na sua bunda.

Focado demais no mistério da camiseta, você só nota Steve ajoelhado na sua frente, com o quadril dele rente ao seu rosto, quando a voz mansa soa.

O movimento de erguer a cabeça leva seus lábios diretamente à glande do pau de Steve, mais macia agora, porém impressionantemente grossa para alguém que gozou mares de porra há pouco.

O herói estremece com o contato dos seus lábios na cabecinha sensível e leva uma das mãos aos seus fios, entrelaçando-os entre os dedos. Você se assusta inicialmente, mas logo está sorrindo diante do revirar de olhos que seu namorado lhe proporciona.

A carne grossa segue úmida da última ejaculação e renova com pré-sêmen fresco. — Pode deixar… — você exibe a ponta da língua, passando-a vagarosamente por toda a glande molhada, sentindo o gostinho salgado enquanto, na mesma lentidão, arrasta a ponta dos dedos pelos centímetros restantes, propositalmente dando o mínimo com o máximo de mansidão.

Você provoca, como se nunca tivesse engasgado até o talo naquela pica.

Como se não tivesse sido a sua boca o primeiro buraco em que Steve se enfiou.

Ver você sorrir com o pau dele preso entre os lábios foi demais. Ele choraminga, curvando a coluna e gaguejando os quadris para frente e para trás, fodendo apenas com metade da ponta. Steve agarra os dois lados da sua cabeça, mantendo-o parado. Você responde entreabrindo a boca, e do loiro escapa um risinho soprado.

Ele precisa de bem mais do que isso para caber.

E prova, te fazendo arreganhar ao enfiar tudo de uma só vez.

[cantwritethetword]

Shenanigans

(originally posted April 20th 2019)

~A/N - This was meant to be my squealing santa gift for rosegold-cuddles BUT I got locked out of my old account. Sorry. 

Anyways, the prompt was: Steve, Tony and Bucky together with Bucky as a ler, Steve a switch and tony a lee. 

Enoy! ~

Tag List:

Masterpost Link

Two pairs of pounding footsteps approached the couch where Tony Stark lay sleeping, quickly followed by a thud as a certain captain was tackled to the ground. Giggles filled the air as Bucky straddled the war hero, and proceeded to conduct a thorough, hands-on examination of Steve’s ribs and tummy. 

“NOHOHO BUHUHUCK PLEHEHEASE!” He managed to squeal out as the winter soldier drew a breath, and raspberried it into Steve’s bellybutton.

Tony rubbed his eyes, opening his mouth to begin complaining about the noise, when he realised what he two were doing. A light blush rose to his cheeks as he watched Steve beg under Bucky’s careful fingertips, a fate he wouldn’t exactly oppose being subjected to (though he would never admit it).

Bucky, who had been grinning at Steve’s humongous smile during the predicament, noticed the attention the pair were receiving, and gave Tony a wink. Steve twisted and squirmed beneath his friend, feebly fighting against the two hands running up and down his sides, before taking in a deep breath of air as the tickling subsided.

“What’s with the red face, huh Tony?” The winter soldier smirked, while Steve recovered, muttering something about Bucky’s arm being an unfair advantage.

The billionaire stumbled over his words, responded much too quickly with “Nothing!”, before composing himself.

“You two woke me up with your… uh… shenanigans…”

Steve, who by this point had gotten his breath back, grinned up at him. 

“I think someone’s in need of an attitude adjustment, eh Buck?”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Bucky smirked, grabbing Tony before he had a chance to escape.

“No no no no come on guys I-”

“You what? Huh? You… ’re way too ticklish?” The winter soldier teased, wriggling his fingers in the air above the helpless man.

Tony stuttered, giving a few nervous laughs. 

“Or were you waiting for this to happen huh? Itching for some tickles Stark?” Steve brushed his hand against the genius’s neck, drawing out a yelp.

At this point, Tony’s face was a deep crimson, and he couldn’t bear to look at either man in the eyes. He slammed his eyelids shut, awaiting the fate he was doomed to endure for as long as the tormentors desired.

Then the fingers hit.

Tony let out a shriek, then broke down into giggles as Steve attacked his ribs, while Bucky repeatedly squeezed the spot just above his kneecaps, before sprawling his fingers over them.

The normally suave, composed philanthropist, was now squirming and begging at the mercy of two of his closest friends. His entire nervous system was overloaded, he couldn’t think straight, never mind form coherent words. All he could do was scrunch his face up and laugh hysterically, and that’s what he did.

“Really? This is what it takes to take down Earth’s greatest defender?” Steve chuckled as he drilled his thumbs into Tony’s armpits.

After a yelp, Tony managed to giggle out a “Shuhuut up Rogers!”, before descending into mirthful madness.

What felt like both forever and a split second passed, before the two torturers receded their fingers and allowed Tony some breathing room.

“You guys *pant*… such jerks…” He forced his mouth into a hybrid of frowning and pouting.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, before simultaneously giving Tony a shit-eating grin.

“You need to laugh more Tone.” Steve patted the man on the back, chuckling when the billionaire flinched away.

Once the pair had left the room, Tony relaxed. Allowing his smile to reflect his enjoyment of the events which had just taken place. The tickling had been absolutely torturous, and on one hand Tony couldn’t stand even the thought of going through that again. 

But on the other, he had loved every second.

[marvel-tfic]

Hi! You are amazing!

Can you write Steve x reader where he’s training you? You’re doing well until he accidentally tickles you. He teases you by trapping and tickling you, saying you’ll need to find your way out of this compromising position?

Hii! Thanks, i am really really sorry for how long it took for me to write it🤍

Btw i liked a lot this idea🤍

Steve(ler)×reader(lee)

Since you were almost adopted by the avenger one person in particular took you under your wing, Steve Rogers, and since then he started to train you.

One day you were training the tecnique so your punchs would be more efficient you were with your fists clenched in a defensive position so your forearms were almost in front of your face "that's it stay like this let me adjust it" he say by your side and you obey of course, he moved a bit your arm, put your shoulders back but then he went adjusting your hips that were out of place when you felt his hands in your hip bone you couldn't help but flinch a bit, steve thought he had hurted you so he get's a bit concerned "i am sorry, did i hurt you y/n?" You tried to play like it was nothing but of course you were blushing and with a smile so you needed to admit "oh, i am ok it just tickled a bit" ok this was harder then you though and made you blush even more, steve smiled in a pleasent but also cheeky and playfull way "i didn't know you were ticklish but...good to know" he kept that information on his mind. After this little lesson he invited you to do a little spare to end up the training, eventually he went a bit too fast and you fell on your back and he sat on your thighs as he had an idea "surprise train get out of this position" and then he used that information and tickled your sides, you squeak in surprised and a loud laugh came out as you squirmed "STEVEEEEE" you said in loud laughter, as an answer he spudered his hands up to your armpits and tickled there merciless "c'mon y/n you can do this, you can get out of this" you blushed deeply and screamed in ticklish agony as he kept attacking all over your upper body... your tummy, armpits, ribs, hips, neck, ears it was all a white sheet that he could color, not a long after you tapped on the floor in a sign of defeat "good to know you are ticklish...you know this info doesn't end here"

[willowbot2000]

Okay, but like imagine if there was an Umbrella Academy as random characters from other fandoms. Like:

Steve Rogers as Luther

Jack Frost as Diego

Poison Ivy as Allison

Megamind as Klaus

Doctor Who as Five

Tadashi as Ben

The Once-Ler as Victor

And finally Gandalf as The Dad Guy

[widowsistersandfriends]

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.

[shadow-says-hello]

Oh my gosh I love the recent Bucky headcanon.

Can you make a tickle fight with Steve Rogers pretty please?

Tickle fight with Steve rogers (platonic headcanons)

-he’s had a lot of experience with Bucky so he knows what he’s doing

-even though he’s lost most tickle fights with Bucky there has also been some that he’s won

-ticklish around his back and sides, there are kind of a lot of spots that really make him laugh

-he is pretty good at raspberries but he’s also kind of sensitive to them so that’s a point for Bucky

-he usually wastes no time in jumping right to the spot you’re ticklish

-so it’s your feet he’s gonna remove your shoes immediately

-if it’s your stomach he’ll lift up your shirt immediately and blow raspberries or something

-if it’s your armpits he’ll lift up your arms and pin them above your head immediately

-he remembers your spots really well

-he’s a pretty good Ler I’d say, but he gives off switch energy in my opinion

-he has many lees and lers, like Bucky for example

-and most of the avengers

-he’s teasy. He can be really really teasy. Baby talk usually becomes a part of this and Bucky hates it

-sometimes him and Bucky will be teamed up to tickle you, as a team they’re really really ruthless

-Steve’s also kind of ruthless on his own

I love Steve he’s such a good character 😭

[inneedofsupervision]

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

[valiantphantomangel]

Snow!

A V's scareoween special.

"Y/N come on get up!" Peter shouts excited as he jumped onto your bed.

"What is it" you mumbled sleepy with a groan as he landed on your stomach.

"It snowed overnight! Must be like 3 meters in one night!"

Your eyes snap open as you quickly walk to your window overlooking the city, the entire skyline of New York was covered in snow and it was still snowing.

"Come on Pete we got to get outside"! You said with a wide grin as you quickly dressed in your winter clothes and rain downstairs with Spiderman hot on your tail.

"How are we even getting outside?" He asked.

"We got to jump from a window or something" You smiled before running into the living room where the team was.

"I heard that Y/N Stark! You are not jumping out of a window!", your adoptive dad Tony Stark yelled at you from the kitchen.

"As if you don't do it all the time!"

"Yeah well I'm an adult!"

"You don't act like it" you muttered softly.

"I heard that!"

You roll your eyes with a grin before stalking towards the kitchen to steal some of Steve's pancakes.

It was late afternoon when you stared out the window again, you wanted to jump out so badly and land in the heaps of snow down below. And you knew just how to do it.

"Steve! Tony said a bad language word again!" You yelled out and in came the soldier.

"Stark I told you to stop cursing so much in front of N/N!"

You grin as they fell into an argument and quickly put on your jacket, creek open a window and look down.

It was quite a long way down from the second floor but God did you wanna jump.

And you did, sailing through the air before landing in the snow below with a 'oof'. Peter jumping out behind you.

"Y/N! Peter!" Tony yelled as he looked over the window seal "Your grounded!"

You just grin up in response, but that grin fell really quick when you were suddenly tackled by Steve into the cold snow.

"How did you-?!" You asked bewildered as Steve wrestled you to the ground, you heard a oof behind you and could only guess that Bucky had tackled Peter.

"How did we get down here so fast? We jumped after you" he grinned down at you and lightly traced his ice cold fingers over your ribs.

"AH! Don't you dare Rogers" you warned.

"Oh if he won't then I will" You heard Tony's voice and a pair of ice cold hands on your knees and squeeze them.

A giggle slipped past your lips before you could stop it and Steve grinned down at you.

"You know? I think a good tickle session might make you rethink your choices" he mused before his hands dived under your sweater to attack your ribs.

"THIS IS NOT FAIRHAHHAHHHA" you squealed in laughter as Tony also attacked your knees and hips.

"Should have thought about that before you jumped out of a window" Tony said with a smirk and continued his attack.

Steve's ice cold fingers scribbled across your tummy which forced your sweet giggles to escape.

"Your laugh is so adorable" Steve said with a smile and blew a raspberry on your neck.

"HAHHAHHAHHHA" you screamed in laughter as your feet kicked out to Tony as well which clearly didn't bother him.

After a full 10 minutes of laying in the snow, being tickled to tears they finally let up. Although you could still hear Peter letting out bursts of laughter, seemed like Bucky found his death spot.

"Come on, let's get you inside young lady" Steve chuckles and scooped you up in his arms, Tony walked beside you and ruffling your hair.

Just as Steve carried you inside since you were colder then you thought you heard Tony call out to Bucky "Don't kill my other kid!".

You had a crazy family, but god's was it the best you could have wished for.

[muuutiverso]

eu odeio a marvel

Eu odeio a Marvel. Mas ela também é minha coisa favorita do mundo todo.

Os filmes de heróis dos estúdios Marvel não são a Marvel, eles são um spam de informações e efeitos especiais e roteiros cada vez piores e com trabalhadores que não recebem o que deveriam. Se bem que essa última parte também acontece na Marvel de verdade, talvez tudo seja culpa do capitalismo, mas se eu entrar nesse assunto agora eu nunca termino esse texto de tanta raiva que eu tenho desse sistema.

A indústria de heróis hoje em dia se tornou algo ridículo, com efeitos especiais se tornando mais importante que roteiros, as histórias sendo contadas dentro da mesma caixa estabelecida para todos os filmes. Além disso, a Marvel também usa da nostalgia e aparições especiais como base dos filmes, sem respeitar as histórias, mas isso não é um mal só deles, Hollywood inteira se tornou uma grande máquina do tempo que só consegue ir para o passado. 

*contar um segredinho aqui, ninguém quer mais live action ou reboot de nada. obrigada*

Quando Scorsese disse que filmes de heróis não são cinema de verdade e parecem mais um parque de diversões, eu discordei (desculpa papai Scorsese, eu aprendi com o tempo), mas agora eu entendo. Os filmes da Marvel são experiências, são hype, ver o seu personagem favorito aparecer por 10 segundos e logo depois morrer na mão da Feiticeira Escarlate. Ultimato foi uma experiência, ver no cinema, assistir o Homem de Ferro morrer e ver todos os personagens do universo (quase todos) juntos pela primeira vez, mas assistir esse filme em 2023 só deixa claro que foi *apenas* uma experiência. Sem mencionar os erros da ciência por trás da viagem do tempo, porque eu não faço a menor ideia do que é fisicamente possível ou não, Ultimato é cheio de falhas, de momentos duvidosos, com personagens terminando seus arcos de maneira esquisita e totalmente fora de personagem (cof cof Steve Rogers cof cof). 

Outro exemplo dessa experiência é o último live action do miranha. Sem volta para casa foi construído ao redor da nostalgia, dos vilões antigos e, mesmo sem divulgação oficial, os aranhas antigos. Assistir esse filme em casa é até engraçado, quando os aranhas antigos aparecem você consegue perceber um silêncio longo e sem sentido nas cenas. Por quê? Porque esses momentos foram feitos para gerar reações, aplausos, gritos do público. Como uma atração de um parque de diversões.

É claro que nos quadrinhos também existem eventos de crossover, de múltiplos universos, mas eles têm um problema que agora está alcançando os filmes também. O problema é: conteúdo demais. 

Nos quadrinhos você precisa ler 10 quadrinhos diferentes, de personagens diferentes e eventos diferentes pra poder entender um único acontecimento do maior evento. Os quadrinhos sofrem com esse excesso, todas as histórias precisam de um contexto que, na maioria dos casos, vem lá do começo da própria Marvel, em uma edição lá dos anos 80 ou de antes. Nas telas o problema é o mesmo, você precisa assistir mais de 20 filmes, mais 10 séries no disney+, mais os especiais e curtas, tudo isso pra entender um filme que vai ser lançado se escorando nos efeitos especiais, porque o roteiro e a direção vão ser a mesma coisa de sempre.

“Mas a Marvel fez coisas diferentes sim, só ver WandaVision e Cavaleiro da Lua” sim, mas eles não foram para o veículo principal da Marvel, que é o cinema, eles foram para o disney+, onde as águas estão sendo testadas, onde tem espaço para inovar, mas o principal alvo da Marvel ainda são os cinemas, e isso continua o mesmo, desde que o Zé Boné descobriu a fórmula mágica.

Os efeitos especiais nem se fala, com a política de quantidade ser mais importante que conteúdo da Disney, os efeitos têm se tornado cada vez piores e os trabalhadores cada vez mais explorados. Não é normal ter que corrigir efeitos especiais depois que o filme foi lançado porque a pressa de lançar era tão grande que o tempo pra terminar a edição foi cortado pela metade. Pague seus trabalhadores direito e forneça melhor qualidade para eles. Espero que a greve ensine isso aos estúdios. 

A Marvel de verdade é o que então? É diversão, personagens cativantes e histórias absurdas e bem escritas. Histórias em quadrinhos revolucionaram como o público via certos grupos sociais, mesmo sendo uma indústria que está cada dia pior, com os mesmos problemas dos estúdios, ela foi histórica e importante. Não acredito que os filmes da Marvel vão ter qualquer relevância daqui a 50 anos. 

*”você nem falou da DC nesse texto, e os problemas dela?” vamos ver o que o James Gunn faz primeiro, aí eu volto pra reclamar*

[tudoterminaem]

Décimo primeiro capítulo- final 

10 anos depois…

Eu nem acredito que já se passaram 10 anos desde aquele dia, muita coisa aconteceu, muita coisa mudou desde então. Hoje é a inauguração do memorial, não posso me atrasar. 

Jenny: Mãe? Mããããe?? 

Grace: O que foi minha filha?

Jenny: Você viu meu laço de cabelo?

Grace: Está na segunda gaveta do banheiro.

Jenny: Obrigado Mãe. 

Em 2002 minha meus pais decidiram se mudar pra cá, pra ficar mais perto da filhinha deles, não julgo a preocupação, se fosse eu, também me mudaria, não é todo dia que você quase perde sua filha em umas das maiores tragédias que o mundo já viu. Eu não sou uma sobrevivente do atentado, eu não estava nas torres, mas estava muito perto delas. Se o ataque fosse um pouco mais tarde, talvez eu não estivesse aqui pra contar a história, naquele dia era pra eu estar visitando o trabalho do Peter.

Grace: Vamos filha, está na hora!

Jenny: Vamos mãe, só vou pegar a chave do carro.

Jenny: Peter, pegou seu casaco?

Peter: Peguei.

Jenny: Vem cá, deixa eu arrumar essa sua gravata torta.

Peter: E meu cabelo, como está? 

Jenny: Está ótimo. Então, vamos indo.

Quanto mais perto do memorial a gente chegava, mais meu coração ficava apertado. Era a primeira vez que eu voltava naquele lugar, parecia que meu coração ia sair pela boca. Nós ouvimos o discurso do presidente e do prefeito de Nova Iorque, e então foi inaugurado o memorial. A fonte no ponto zero ficou maravilhosa, uma bela homenagem a todos que perderam suas vidas.

Jenny: Mãe, você pode me dar um minuto, eu preciso passar esse tempo sozinha.

Grace: Claro minha filha.

Jenny: São tantos nomes (pensei comigo mesma). Andei olhando cada nome.

Jonathan P. Sullivan • Mary S. Miller • Pablo A. Ernandez • Jullian S. Smith • Selena G. Guttin • Steven G. Rogers…

Esse nome, meus olhos começaram a encher de água, Steve era o amigo do Peter, as lembranças vieram junto com a primeira lágrima, nós passamos um dia divertido naquele dia, foi um dia perfeito. Continuei olhando os nomes… Mikaela, Anthony, Raul, Paul, essas pessoas eram da equipe do Steve. Um a um fui achando os nomes deles 

… ( silêncio ) 

…

…

…

….

…..

……

……. ( lágrimas ) 

……

…..

….

…

…

…

… ( dor )

Começou a ficar difícil de respirar, um aperto no meu peito, meus olhos estava coberto de lágrimas que eu quase não conseguia ler o nome no memorial 

• PETER R. PETTERSON • 

Peter foi um romance de uma semana, uma semana que mudou meu coração. De repente em meio de tantas lágrimas, senti um pequeno toque em minha mão.

Peter: Por que você está chorando mamãe? 

Jenny: Ôô meu amor, mamãe lembrou de alguém que foi muito importante pra mim. 

Jenny se agachou na frente do filho e o puxou para um abraço apertado, respirando fundo para acalmar o turbilhão de emoções. O toque suave das pequenas mãos de Peter em seu rosto, limpando suas lágrimas, trouxe-lhe de volta à realidade.

Jenny: Ele também se chamava Peter, sabia? Assim como você.

O menino sorriu, curioso, mas sem entender completamente o peso daquela "coincidência".

Peter: Ele era um amigo da mamãe?

Jenny assentiu, lutando para conter mais lágrimas.

Jenny: Sim, ele foi muito especial para mim. A gente teve pouco tempo juntos, mas ele me ensinou a amar de uma forma que eu nunca tinha sentido antes.

Peter: Mamãe, você ainda sente falta dele?

Ela sorriu, dessa vez com uma sensação de paz que há muito não sentia.

Jenny: Sinto, mas o que ele me deixou de mais bonito foi a lição de que devemos valorizar cada momento com as pessoas que amamos.

Peter: Eu também te amo, mamãe.

Ela o abraçou novamente, sentindo a profundidade do significado daquela frase.

Grace, que observava à distância, caminhou em direção aos dois e colocou a mão no ombro da filha.

Grace: Vamos para casa, querida?

Jenny respirou fundo, olhou mais uma vez para o nome de Peter no memorial, e sussurrou: “Obrigada por tudo.”

Ela pegou a mão do filho e se levantou, pronta para seguir em frente. Não era sobre esquecer, mas sobre lembrar da vida que ela ainda tinha para viver e das pessoas que ainda estavam ao seu lado. O amor que Peter lhe ensinou continuaria, agora, no pequeno sorriso do filho dela. E isso era o suficiente.

Eles se afastaram do memorial, deixando para trás o peso do passado e caminhando em direção ao futuro. Por Peter não estava só em suas memórias, ele estava em seu coração PARA TODO O SEMPRE.

Fim.