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inneedofsupervision · 5 months ago

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This Thing about Blankets and Second Chances

Summary: Peter gets sick and looks for help at the tower as Aunt May is out of town. Instead of Mr. Stark, only Sam and Bucky are there, and they nurse him back to health, but for some reason, the kid begins acting out of character.

(Read on Ao3)

(Maybe u can guess which prompt this was supposed to be lmao)

"Stark, your intern is the spawn of Satan. He was difficult being sick, but now that he's better, he's the worst."

Tony's amused laugh echoes through the speaker.

Sam's following words sound almost pleading.

"Why is he being so stubborn, Tony? He had been freakishly nice and agreeable before. What did you put into his head?" If the man thought his words were contradicting, hell, they probably contradicted, but Sam couldn't care less.

He needs Stark to listen.

"Eyes on the screen, Feathers, I don't want to talk to your ear. Yeah, that looks almost better."

The man in question looks calm. Too calm, sitting back in the seat of his jet, the first button of his dress shirt opened. Tony takes a sip out of a cheap Iron Man mug. It must have been a present, or it wouldn't find itself anywhere close to the man.

"I didn't do anything," begins Tony, pointedly ignoring the glare. "We just talked, checking that the kid didn't sneak into the lab unsupervised when he's not on top of his game."

"And why does he act like none of what we say matters after being on the phone with you? A few weeks ago, he wouldn't look Bucky in the eye, and now he doesn't move, doing the whole grumpy teenager act."

"I might be the smartest person in this merry band we call a team, but I cannot even cut open his teenage head to get on why the kid does what he does. Call it one of the mysteries of childhood."

It has to be a conspiracy. There is no other explanation for whatever this is. Sam glares at the smug grin on Stark's face. It was like the man's eyes were mocking him.

"See what I have to deal with all the time? Get a taste of your own."

"How do I get him to stop? I don't care if it's the holidays or not. He cannot sleep the whole day. Bucky was about to throw a water bucket at him after pulling him by his ankle but did nothing, and the brat just shot his webbing at him."

Tony takes another sip of coffee, but it's too late. Sam had seen the poorly hidden twitch of the corner of his mouth as he barely suppressed bark-out-loud laughter. Sam takes a deep breath.

"Stark," he begins. He makes sure to talk slowly, like he would to a four-year-old child and not a self-proclaimed billionaire-genius-whatsoever.

"That kid. He wears his webshooters. To bed."

"Oh, does he?" The man doesn't even pretend to be surprised.

"That means he likely didn't get to sleep at all."

Sam's eyelid twitches.

"What?"

Tony takes a glass of water from the tablet held out to him.

"Thanks, Marcy."

He checks his wristwatch, eyebrow rising before glancing back towards the screen.

"He patrolled until 5:43 am. It's the weekend. Let the kid live a little."

When the kid came in asking for Mr. Stark while hacking up a lung, Sam thought it would end with them calling Happy and getting the sick teen chauffeured to his aunt.

"Aunt May is in Malaysia. For the rest of the month. Could I have some water, please?"

Even Bucky's face twisted as he awkwardly rubbed the teen's back, who mumbled the words between dry heaving in the bathroom. It hadn't been pretty. They got Dr. Cho to check him only to tell them that the freaky spider-metabolism lets the kid speedrun through a mean case of the flu. They had contacted Stark, and the man had been adamant at first to fly back instantly, but Pepper had asked them to give her and Tony a minute. The man later said he could not make it and basically threatened them to take care of his mentee. Sam wonders at what point in life he ended up babysitting an enhanced teenager while his mentor was away on some rich people trip.

"Did you forget the part where I told you he had been in bed and sick for the past few days?"

He wipes a hand over his face.

He's too old for this.

Sam also couldn't understand how Stark, out of all people, refrained from going into helicopter parent mode, being hundreds of miles away from his kid and said kid fighting a cold. He had seen the man freak out over papercuts before.

"Don't be rough on him, Wilson, he's sixteen. The kid just crawled out of the crib and took his first steps. Be a little understanding. You won't get him out of bed treating my penthouse like a military camp for troubled youths."

Be a little understanding.

Sam thought he was trippin' hearing these words from no other than Tony Stark, the most eccentric and selfish person going by the man living in a Tower with his name planted on the side.

"That's because you coddle him too much!"

Tony sniffs slightly.

"Are you suggesting I am not taking your call seriously? Because you would be very much right about it."

"Stark-"

Tony glances over his shoulder, a grin breaking over his face before he turns back towards the screen.

"The missus is calling. I will check in later, having a firm chat with the human incarceration of teen rebellion. Don't worry, I'll set the itty bitty troublemaker straight."

"Tony-"

"Don't worry, we will have a stern talking."

There is a twinkle in the man's eyes.

The screen goes dark.

Sam curses.

_________________________________

"The video of Barnes patting the kid's back until he falls asleep like a toddler? I saved, archived, and showed it to my wife. She loves it. It's very domestic and very unlike Barnes. The perfect blackmail material." Clint lolls on the couch, a hand behind his head, eyes gleaming with delight.

"What do you need help with now? If it's about cough-sirup, just put it in some juice and say the weird taste comes with the congested nose. Works like a charm."

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose.

"He's fine now, Clint. Completely back to health."

The archer draws an eyebrow up.

"What's wrong then?"

"He won't get out of bed."

"He won't get out of bed," repeats the other man, lips quirking in unconcealed amusement.

"It doesn't matter what Bucky and I are saying or doing. He stays in bed and demands to sleep. Stark said he was patrolling, so he's bound to be tired. But he cannot sleep the whole day. If he does, he will be awake all night, and I will not deal with the outcome."

"Did anyone tell you you're a hypocrite?"

Sam ignores the jab and walks back to Bucky, who is behind the stove, a concerningly high staple of pancakes next to him that's still growing. Clint follows, leaning on his arms and watching them from across the counter.

"Let me get this straight. The kid comes in on Thursday being all sick and pitiful, and you two," he points at them to clarify he wasn't talking about another duo at the tower housing superheroes, "took care of him. And the kid had been his awkwardly polite self, trying to play it down to not inconvenience you like the self-deprecating little bug he is?"

A hand sneaks towards the pancakes.

"Exactly."

"And now that you two nursed him back to health, he doesn't do what you tell him to? Acting like a tired teenager, whining about being sleepy, going on about the bed being the most amazing place on earth, and not caring what you want?"

"Ouch!" Clint glares at Bucky, who unapologetically pulls the pancakes out of reach, spatula ready for another hit.

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Sometimes I forget you are a father. That's what happened. Any idea how to get him to crawl out of that blanket cocoon?"

The blond straightens up, wiping the grease off his hands with a kitchen towel. Laugh lines are decorating his face.

"No. I have no idea. Good luck, you two."

It caught Bucky's attention, looking up from where he poured another portion of batter into the sizzling pan.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I am sure you two can handle this just fine," answers Clint. He grimaces slightly as his shoulder makes a popping sound while stretching, uttering something about not having enough training before giving the two a small salute.

"See you around. Tell the Spider-Kid I said hi."

"You can tell him yourself," shouts Sam after the blond, who turns around, a big grin on his face.

"I wouldn't want to wake him. He's a growing boy. He needs his "Z's".

Bucky shakes his hand. He's elbowing Sam slightly in the side.

"Let's try talking to him again."

The man pulls the pan off the heat and glances at the clock.

Barton is right. Bucky has become incredibly domestic. Sam observes how the other put the pancakes in the oven to keep them warm. They make their way over to the hallway, determined to end this. It is bad enough that two of their friends got a kick out of it, seeing how they get messed with by a baby-faced teen, leaving them alone to deal with the little devil.

"What about your medicine? Have you taken it?"

Bucky's hands stopped before his knuckles could knock on the door to the teen's room. They hear the shuffling of bedsheets before Peter's voice comes through muted.

"I kinda run out of it?"

"Peter Benjamin Parker, why didn't you say anything?" asks the woman on the other line, sounding exhausted, implying that this must be a topic of many conversations but not without a hint of amusement.

"I honestly forgot, but I haven't been sick in months. I was about to tell Mr. Stark, but with Decathlon and the updates for the suit, it slipped my mind. But I'm completely fine now, I swear!"

"Maybe I should ask Tony if you could stay at the Tower."

A low whining sound emits from behind the door, something they have never heard from the kid before. It was like hearing the personified essence of a protesting teenager. "I can take care of myself, Aunt May. I'm sixteen! I came to the tower when I felt unwell. I even asked for help!"

"And that's the barest minimum of what I expect you to do when you get sick, Peter. Is Tony around? Could you hand him the phone?"

"Sorry, May, he's not here. He's at a conference in France."

There's a short pause from both sides.

"Who took care of you then?"

"Oh right, I haven't told you that. It's just wild! Do you remember Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barnes?"

"You have mentioned them, yes."

Both men cannot help but grimace at the wary tone. They wonder what the kid has told his aunt about them to cause that reaction. Peter seems unaware of the distaste in his aunt's voice as he cheerily continues chatting away.

"So, I came to the tower feeling kind of under the weather and asked for Mr. Stark, but there were only Mr. Barnes and Mr. Wilson, who told me Mr. Stark wasn't there. I wanted to call you, but suddenly, I got incredibly queasy, and I ran to the bathroom and lost my lunch. I was so embarrassed getting sick in front of them, but Aunt May. Both of them were super nice about it. Especially Mr. Wilson seemed genuinely worried. They got Dr. Cho to come to the penthouse and look at me. She gave me some medicine against the flu, and it didn't take two days until I was completely better. Oh, and Mr. Barnes even cooked me chicken-and-noddle soup! It was nothing like the soup you make me."

"You know perfectly well that my soup comes out of the can, mister."

"Oops," is all the kid says, the grin carrying over in his voice.

"I'm glad to know Tony has to deal with that side of you too. Everyone should know that my nephew is part-time Spider-Man and part-time gremlin."

The kid honest-to-good cackles, not sounding any bit remorseful.

"But Peter, if those two stop being good to you, promise to let me or Tony know. I feel uncomfortable with you being around someone who had been that indifferent before."

"Don't worry, May. I think both sides needed some time to warm up to each other. I will let one of you know if something happens. I feel way more comfortable around them now, knowing they care, you know? I think it's genuine."

"I'm glad you think so, darling. I wish I could be there for you. Call me if something happens, alright?"

"Will do. Love you."

"Love you too, baby. Let me know when Tony's back."

"Yeah. See you soon, May."

"Take care of yourself. See you, Peter."

There is some shuffling before silence settles behind the closed door. The men share a look before Bucky knocks softly against the wood.

"Come in."

Sam raises an eyebrow. It was like they had never left. The kid is still rolled up tightly in the blanket, only a mob of brown hair peeking out between the gray line sheets.

"Friday, what time is it."

"It's 13:37, Mr. Wilson."

"And at what time do teens usually get up at the weekend?"

"According to the latest statistics, teenagers from 12 to 17 years old get up between 9:00 and 11:00 am."

"See, even the super-computer agrees with us, kid. It's time to get up, so move your butt."

The cocoon shifts slightly. A pair of brown, very awake eyes peek out of the opening, squinting at them.

"Friday is an AI, not a super-computer."

"Okay. Alright. The AI said your usual teen should get up between 9:00 and 11:00, and you have already taken it much further than that."

"Well, I'm not your usual teen," comes the quip, as if the kid had waited for it.

"No, you're not. A little shit is what you're are," presses Sam out, muttering to himself as he runs a hand over his head, wondering why he's even arguing about this.

A sound catches his attention.

Glancing at Bucky, seeing the man raising an eyebrow, he knew the other had heard it too.

A giggle.

Soft and breathy, muffled by pressing his face into the blanket, but it had been there, undeniably.

Now it's official.

The kid's messing with them.

Bucky seems to think the same.

"Hey! What are you doing? Let me down!"

In one swift motion, the blanket roll of a teen is scoped from the bed and thrown over a broad shoulder. Curly strands of hair bounce up and down with every step that the teen gets carried further away from his bed, wriggling and protesting on the way. Sam follows with a smirk, having to hand it to the ex-assassin. With the teen tightly wrapped up, he couldn't do much but fight against being picked up and carried like an angry caterpillar. Bucky got a firm grip around the kid's middle, preventing him from getting his arms out of the makeshift cocoon, which turned into a silky spider trap.

Their destination is the living room, where Bucky drops the living cargo on a couch.

"Friday, lock the kid's room until he ate something and washed up."

"I'm pretty sure it's a criminal offense to lock someone out of their room," protests Peter, who robs forward until he is on height with a pillow. Sam squints his eyes at him when the teen snuggles into the couch, eyes closing again.

"Oh no. We didn't bring you here for you to pass out on the couch. Get up, kid."

"Can't hear you am sleeping," mumbled the teen and dared to let out a giant yawn before wriggling, turning his back towards the stunned adults.

The nerves of that kid.

"That's it. I'm calling Tony. You see what you can do."

Sam leaves the room, ready to give the billionaire a piece of his mind, leaving Bucky alone with their troublemaker.

Peter listens, waiting for what the other man would do now. He can hear Bucky's calm heartbeat, his body tensing slightly when steps approach.

"You know," begins the older man, surprising Peter by lifting the blanket alongside his legs to sit down and let his limps fall on his lap."back then, when Steve was younger, he had been a handful. We have lived close to each other. When one of our parents was away, we'd sleep over at the other's house. Then I learned that my best friend could be the grumpiest little punk being tired. And getting sick quickly, he'd been tired often. The surprise when I came back, and suddenly the skinny kid who asked to pick a fight is now getting on everyone's nerves by getting up at 5:00 am and asking people if they wanna 'round the park with him."

"What did you do then?"

"When that punk didn't want to get up?"

"Yeah."

Bucky smirks at the curiosity in the teen's voice.

"I taught him a lesson."

Peter's eyes shoot wide open as something heavy gets thrown over the blanket cocoon, successfully pinning his legs.

"He would hold on to his blanket, refusing to let it go. But there are ways to make him crawl out of that hideout."

While speaking, Bucky shoves a hand into the opening of the blanket roll. His arm vanishes halfway until he finds what he's searching for and begins to pull.

"No!"

The man smirked as he pulled at the teen's ankle until a pair of pale feet stuck out of the cocoon, legs wriggling in an attempt to shuffle back into the safety of the blanket. By pulling at the teen's legs and the latter being too stubborn to let go of the blanket, Peter got pulled into the depth of the blanket-cocoon, the only visible part of the teen his kicking limps.

"No? I thought you were curious?" teases Bucky as he fights to get the kicking feet into a headlock.

"I didn't ask for a demonstration!" comes the muffled protest, followed by a squeak when one of Bucky's fingers accidentally runs over his sole.

"Should have specified what you wanted then," replies the older, glancing down at the successfully caught feet in his grip. Thanks to the unfavorable position of Peter laying on his stomach, having wrapped the blanket tighter than ever around himself during his wriggling, and Bucky throwing one leg over the teen, he has a remarkably secure hold of his legs. Despite his head deep inside the blanket, Bucky's words are loud and clear, sparking a sense of nervousness inside him. Even though his spidey sense doesn't act out, Peter can feel something nearing his vulnerable feet.

"You know what Steve still can't stand?"

Instead of an answer, a high-pitched, muffled screech ejects from within the blanket, followed by frantic wriggling and choked laughter as Bucky begins to worm a finger between the kid's toes, feather-lightly scratching at the skin. A grin forms on the man's face at the very familiar reaction. There hadn't been a second of the day where Peter regretted burying himself in his blanket. Surrounded by the cozy warmth and the familiar scent of fabric softener, there wasn't a place he'd rather be. Not even once, did Peter imagine that his favorite blanket would become his downfall. His wonderful, beloved blanket has revealed itself to be a wicked spider-trap. It's almost scary how a blanket, physics, and one super soldier are enough to leave him flopping around helplessly on the couch like a fish out of water. Under other circumstances, he'd easily tear a way out of the textile, but with his arms pressed close against his body and the blanket tightly wrapped around him like an overgrown Boa Constrictor, getting out was surprisingly though. Oh, and, there was also Bucky, who had a leg thrown over him, effectively pinning him against the couch, but Peter wouldn't have been able to concentrate on getting out anyway, even if he wanted to.

"I've gohohot ihihihit, I-Ihihi've gohoht ihit! Youhu cahan stahahap, okahahay? Pleahase, Buhuhucky!"

He's growing crazy.

Around him is nothing but sheer darkness. He's blind, swallowed, and betrayed by his blanket and at the mercy of whatever Bucky has in stock for him. Peter's toes are curling at the attempt to fend off the fingers, but they are giving chase. When he shakes them off, they merely switch feet to provide the other toes with the same treatment. It's alarming how Bucky knows how to turn him into a pile of squirming limbs, unable to contain his laughter.

"I would say this is even more effective on you than Steve back in the day," comments Bucky with a grin as he lets a single finger glide over Peter's sole. The whole blanket cocoon jumps at the action.

Bucky's grin rivals a Cheshire cat.

"That was something. Might be more sensitive than your toes, huh?"

"NO! It's nohot! Yohuhu're mistahaking, seriously."

"Do I? Your reaction tells me otherwise." As if to underline his words, Bucky strokes his fingers again, slowly and teasingly, down the soles of his feet.

"Stohop it! That's nohohot fuhunny!"

"I'm entertained greatly. But if you're not having fun, we've gotta do something about it."

"Nohohoh, please dohohon't!"

Even Peter knew it would be hard to take him seriously with the sheer quantity of giggles pouring out of him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Bucky looks up, his arms never ceasing their hold around Peter's ankles.

"Though I'd try some reliable methods from back in the days. Till now, it looks promising."

Durning Bucky's answer, Sam glances at the squirming heap of blankets. The head of the kid had vanished. The only part indicating he was still there was the madly kicking legs in his friend's grasp.

"Is that so," he asks, slightly skeptical.

As an answer to his question, a panicked squeal followed by even more panicked struggling echoes through the room as Bucky, without warning, attacks one foot with five wriggling fingers.

Sam's mood improves all of a sudden after being witness to Bucky's little demonstration. Having Stark laughing at him again and telling him that he should just let the teen do what he wants, Sam had been more than done with this. But with the new knowledge and the ability to take some well-deserved renege, Sam's bad temper is history.

"Let me try."

His lip twitched upwards as his words caused the teen below him to try to wriggle out of the blanket with new-found vigor.

"You've got to be pretty ticklish if you're that afraid of what's to come," observes the man, sharing a grin with Bucky.

"He's worse than Steve."

"Am not!" comes the sulky answer as fast as a bullet.

"That so?" teases Sam with a smug grin while sitting down.

"Seeing your reaction, I'm not convinced."

The cocoon stops wriggling for a moment.

"Maybe it's time to get checked by an optician."

Bucky barks out a laugh, earning a glare from his friend.

"I hope you have a tight hold on the little runt," growls Sam, and before Bucky can answer, he dishes out a relentless tickle attack on the teen's helpless feet.

Maybe he shouldn't have provoked Sam.

That's the only thing Peter can think about, apart from one all-consuming thought.

It tickles.

Oh god, how bad it tickles.

"Visit an optician, my ass. What do you call this Buck? Does that look like not ticklish to you?"

Sam found out quickly that light touches got the best reactions. With feather-light touches and

a mean precision, he strokes the tips of his fingers, in quick succession, over the soft skin. Even if they couldn't see his face, the sounds from within the blanket were enough to tell them that Sam works very effectively.

"You could almost think he lied to us," states Bucky dryly, but not without a grin.

"Am nohohohoht lyhihihing!"

"Right. What you're doing doesn't count as lying. You're in denial. Not sure if I know what's worse."

"What doho youhu knohohohow anywahahay?"

"I know you're not in a position to talk big."

Peter had anticipated another attack on his feet. Honestly, he had counted on a lot of things. Getting pulled out of his DIY prison had not been on the list. The surprise is written all over his face as his hand shoots up instinctively to protect his tightly shut eyes from the piercing ceiling lights. His reflex is also his downfall as a pair of hands capture his wrists with ease and promptly hold them over his head. Completely taken out of order by the bright light, the teen reacts belated as a weight settles on top of his legs, pinning him to the couch. The lights dim as Friday seems to have caught onto his trouble opening his eyes, and it takes a few moments before he dares open his eyes again.

"Well, where were we?" asks Sam, cracking his knuckles.

"The kid said you should get your eyes checked."

Sam squints at Bucky before directing his eyes down to Peter, pointing a finger at his chest.

"See what you did? Now I'm going to hear about this for the next weeks."

The kid dared to chuckle. Sam was sure he didn't imagine it. The kid was even making fun of him in this situation. How did it come to this level of disrespect? He raises an eyebrow at the teen, which causes the exact opposite of what he had in mind. The teen fought a grin.

"Are you laughing at me?"

Peter's eyes are twinkling with mischief.

"There is that optician shop right around the corner. I know the manager from one of my patrols. Her name is Patrisha, and she's super nice. I could put in a woHOHORD FOHOR YOUHUHUU! NO, STAHAP IHIHIT!"

"Stop?" asks Sam, whose fingers have found a way under the teen's sleeping shirt and whose thumbs are kneading into the sensitive side of Peter's stomach. "After everything you just said, you little gremlin?"

Peter pulled and tore on his arms, but Bucky's hold didn't budge an inch. His upper body lay helplessly exposed to Sam's attacks. Sam seems very aware of that, too, and doesn't miss splashing out every technique he can think of while searching meticulously for Peter's weak points as if it were hard to find them. Both adults quickly realize that the squirming teen turns out ticklish all over. The kneading had been evil already, but when Sam began softly tickling over his bare stomach, the tips of his fingertips barely touching him, Peter thought he was ready to crawl out of his skin. He kicks his legs, bucking in their hold, and his face is about to split in half by how much he's grinning.

"STOHOHOHOP, stopstopstopstohohop, pleahahase! Sahaham! I cahahan't tahahake thihhis!"

"Oh, come on, don't spoil the fun. Spider-Man surely can handle a little tickling. Wait a second. Didn't you say you're not ticklish? If I do this, it shouldn't bother you. If you didn't lie about it."

Sam grins smugly, pushing the shirt upwards. He reveals a pale but well-defined stomach.

"That skin is as white as a sheet. You ever go out?" comments Bucky, and Peter doesn't know why but finds himself laughing even louder. Or it could be the cause of Sam's fingers, which have found their way towards his ribs and dug into them with vigor. The teen jolts as a finger digs into a particularly delicate spot, right under his bottom rib.

"Would you look at that?" Bucky and Sam share shit-eating grins while Peter gasps for air between a giggle fit.

"What have we gotten here?" Sam asks. He puts his hands on Peter's ribs, his thumbs lying right on the spot that had made the teen jump a moment before. That alone was enough to make him flinch again.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's a bruise from a few days aGOHOHO. NO!"

"You got hit?" asks Sam incredulously, before massaging into the spot with circling movements of his thumbs.

Peter can only nod, lips pressed tightly together, and eyes squeezed shut as he tries ignoring the electrical impulse jolting his entire body with pure willpower. He might have succeeded if there wasn't a third hand sneaking down and blunt nails dragging over his right armpit.

Brown eyes shot open widely, and Sam used the moment of surprise to press both thumbs into the spot while vibrating his hands and shaking them as the rest of his fingers dug between the teen's ribs.

"NAAHAHAHAHAHA. THAHAHAHAT'S UNFAIHIHIHIR! AHAHAHAHA BUHUHUHCKY, YOUHU'RE SUHUHUCH AHAN ASS-ACK! I'M TAHAKING IT BACK!! I'm taking it back, I'm tahahaking ihihit bahahack! I never said anythihing!"

"It's fascinating how a little tickling can bother a non-ticklish person as much as this, right?"

Bucky had to put both hands back to use holding the teen down, who was trying everything to free himself. Peter squirms back and forth under the series of attacks as high-pitched squeaks, followed by loud laughter, pour out of him. "Youhuh bohoth ahahre terrible! Terriblehe ahahand meahan!"

"You told your aunt something different."

Sam almost felt evil.

Wide eyes stared at him with something akin to horror.

"How do you know what I've talked about with my aunt?"

"We might have overheard some stuff."

Both men thought now they took it too far. But instead of distrust or anger, the teen wears a cheeky expression, eyes gleaming with a familiarity resembling Stark a bit too much for Sam's liking.

"Good to know that at least you're hearing's still alright."

"You little shit. Just wait till I'm done with you," threatens Sam with a growl. Before Peter can let out another savvy quip, the man bends forward and blows a giant raspberry on top of his stomach.

Peter didn't see that one coming.

A short scream escapes his throat, his back arching off the couch as the flight reflex kicks in harder than ever, collapsing into a madly giggling heap of weak limbs.

"I think you just found Spider-Man's weak spot. Gotta remember that for the next training session."

Those words would usually be enough to leave Peter shuddering, but, at the moment, he couldn't grab one clear thought as Sam's head was already on the way down.

"Let's see how many of these you can handle, tough cookie," teases Sam with a smirk as he blows a third, fourth, and fifth raspberry on Peter's stomach and when he can reach his sides.

"Ohoho my gohohod, pleahahase, stahahap it!" presses Peter out before breaking into another giggle fit, adorable squeaky laughter bouncing off the walls and filling the room.

"You know, all that wouldn't have happened if you had just got up when we told you to. How about now? Will you get up? Are you awake?"

The grin on Peter's face reaches up to his eyes, mirth dancing in them despite the teen calling them out for torturing him. Sam observes the kid growing frantic as his fingers wander higher up.

"I can get you wide awake in a second. Wanna bet?"

With these words, Sam bends his head down again, but before his lips can meet skin, he stops and digs his fingers into Peter's armpits instead. A mad cackling follows, and Peter pulls and pulls on his wrists, the feeling of fingers fluttering over his armpits driving him up a wall.

"I'M AWAKE. IHIHI AM COMPLETELY AWAWAKE! Ohoh my gohohod, Sahaham stohop. Pleahase nohot my underarms, I'm goihihing tohoho gehehet up whenehehever you tell mehe toho!"

"Only when I'm telling you?"

"Whehehehn you're bohoth are tehehelling me!"

"You know, I don't care if you listen to Bucky."

Bucky turns away from the teen to send a glare to Sam's way. "You wanna fight?"

The teen uses the distraction and pulls strongly. He manages to get one arm out of Bucky's hold. He grabs Bucky's hand, prying the fingers off his other wrist.

"Oh no, you don't," says Sam and claws his hands into the teen's stomach. The fingers retreat from Bucky's hands as the teen cackles and tries shoving Sam off of him. Bucky takes the distraction as a chance and quickly captures the free hand as Sam weakens the kid by digging his thumbs into his hipbones.

"You listen when we tell you, alright?" he asks with a grin as he threatens to let his fingers hover over the kid's exposed tummy. Peter's eyes weren't even focusing on him, only watching his hands while unwillingly sucking his stomach in as Sam smirks at him.

"Ihihi wihill!"

"And now admit that you're ticklish."

At first, both adults didn't think it would be possible for the teen to grow redder in the face, but they were proven wrong after Bucky's words.

They couldn't stop teasing the teen for it.

"Come on," urges Bucky, using one hand to hold the teen's wrists as he pokes him in the side, earning a panicked chuckle.

"Admit it. I'm a itty bitty ticklish spider."

Peter glares at them and shakes his head, but the continuing poking from both men causes him quickly to fall into another hiccupy giggle fit.

"If you refuse, we have to handle this a different way," taunts Bucky with a sigh as if he regrets the next thing he's about to do. Peter struggles against the grip, but Bucky pulls his arms further, stretching his upper body and leaving it to Sam's mercy. The other man makes sure to dig his thumbs into the teen's stomach before blowing one raspberry after another on the quivering belly under him.

"Sam! Sahaham, pleahahase. Thihihis is torture! I'm going tohoho, to tehell Steve that you-ACK, ahahaha, thahat you two tormented meheh!"

"Nice try, but Steve doesn't like snitches."

"Steve also doesn't like bullies," argues the teen with the best glare he could muster.

Sam and Bucky exchange glances.

It doesn't take two seconds for Peter to regret his threat.

"I'm sorry! I'M SOHOHORRY! SAHAHAHAM, BUHUHUCKY! Noho mohore, pleasahe. I'm tahaking ihit bahack! I wohon't say anythihin to Steve, okay? NAHAHAHA STAHAP, SAM! NO! No,no nohohoho not thihis agahahain, pleaahase. I'm tihicklish, you heard me? I admit ihit, pleahase stahap."

"Okay, one more thing."

The kid sent them a pleading look, and Bucky felt like kicking a puppy if he didn't let him go now. Peter quickly pulls his shirt down once set free and crosses his arms over his chest. He climbs to the end of the couch, a wary look in his eyes. He doesn't trust any of them right now.

Sam rolls his eyes at the teen's overdramatics while Bucky smirks. Deciding to ignore the kid's glare, Sam sits down next to him.

"Why are you acting so different around us now?"

Peter raises an eyebrow at the question.

"I thought you eavesdropped on me and my aunt?"

"Maybe, but it still doesn't make sense."

There is a new shade of pink growing on the kid's ears and neck. He looks down and picks at his pajama pants.

"I kinda got intimidated by you two. I always thought you didn't like me very much, and there isn't more to it than being on the same team during missions. I've never dared to be just me around you guys like I would with Mr. Stark or Clint. But when you two took care of me when I was sick, I realized that you express your affection differently than I'm used to."

"Are you telling me that now you know what we are like, you're going to continue acting like a little gremlin cause you feel comfortable around us?"

There it is again.

That dreaded shit-eating grin.

"Maybe."

Sam groans.

"Great."

Peter smiles before looking up at the man.

"Hey, Sam."

"What?"

"About the thing with the glasses-"

"Come here, you little shit!"

#ticklish peter parker #lee! peter parker #ler! bucky barnes #ler! sam wilson #peter parker #spider man #avengers fanfiction #avengers #bucky barnes #winter soldier #falcon #sam wilson #tickling #marvel tickle fic #marvel #marvel fanfic

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quillsandtypos · 3 days ago

Text

The Light of Laughter

Words: 7.7 k

Pairings: none, this is a platonic/familial fic

Characters: Lee!Peter, Ler!Tony, Ler!Bucky, Lee!Wanda, Ler!Steve,

Warnings: a lot of tickling and some older brother/mentor tickling so if that’s not your thing please feel free to sit this one out

Author’s note: This is a squealing Santa fic for the lovely @inneedofsupervision I’m so sorry your gift is late but I hope I make up for the wait. I also wanted to give a massive thanks to @squealing-santa for running this event and for graciously helping me with the deadline.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bell rang, sending chairs scuffing across the floor as students pushed their way out of the classroom. Kids pushed past him, knocking shoulders with him in the chaos as Peter waded to the back of the room.

“You don’t have to wait for me, ya know?” Ned said, roughly shoving his stuff in his folders.

Peter’s brows furrowed. He took one look at the mess on Ned’s desk and started helping him pack his things up. “Yes, I do. I’m the reason we got separated in this class, and we always walk out together.”

Ned brushed off his help, but continued shoving things away. “Aww thanks Peter.” He picked up a notebook paper that had floated down to the floor somehow. “You'd make such a good girlfriend,” he said, then frozen with the paper still between his fingers.

Peter gently pried it from his hands, sliding it into his backpack, sensing that all of the tests were starting to get to him. “Was that what you meant to say?”

Ned finally dethawed, going back to the task at hand. “We’re not acknowledging it.”

Peter chortled, fighting back a comment about the blush on his face. “Yes we are.”

Ned pointed a finger at him. “Not if you still want your christmas present.”

Peter mimicked zipping his lips, not wanting to risk losing his gift. He didn’t have to use his spidey senses to guess what it was. Ned had been dropping quote unquote hints to him about his present all week, and Peter had figured out it was legos by Wednesday.

He filed the last of Ned’s papers away, which was less of putting papers in folders, and mostly a lot of shoving. Peter didn’t even know how he managed to collect this many papers in the first place.

“You aren’t going to be able to find any of your papers when we come back from break,” Peter remarked, picking up a broken folder that was nearly split in half with all the papers inside of it.

Ned shrugged. “I’ll just throw out anything I don’t need when January comes.”

“Then get a new folder for the semester so you can break it by summer?” Peter asked, fighting back a grin. He knew he was pushing his luck with his christmas gift on the line, but Peter had a gift for him as well, and he wasn’t afraid to bargain his way back into Ned’s good graces.

“Exactly,” Ned nodded. “See, I’m glad you get it.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

“By Mr. Smith!” Peter called, waving to his teacher as they walked out the door.

“Bye boys, stay safe over break. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He said, closing the door on them on their way out.

The hallways were a mess of hustle and bustle, everyone eager to escape the building as fast as possible. With the thought of finals erased from their minds, and their warm beds waiting for them at home to catch up on some overdue sleep, no one was wasting another minute in that dreadful building.

Peter tapped the top of the frame as Ned and him pushed through the doors, letting the cold New York winter air blow into the hallways, sending Christmas lights fluttering in the breeze.

“My gift?” Peter asked, once they were outside and away from the entrance.

“I want mine first,” Ned said.

Peter cocked his head at him, a coy smile playing at his lips. “How’d you know I bought you one?”

Ned deadpanned. “Oh come on Peter, we do the same thing every year. We give each other gifts on the last day of school before break.”

Peter dropped the act. “Fine.”

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small box covered messily in red candy cane wrapping. As he handed it to Ned he realized he’d missed a spot, and he hoped he didn’t notice.

Luckily, Ned tore it open as fast as he always did, barely noticing the wrapping before he immediately threw it away.

“Do you know what it is?” Peter asked, as Ned continued staring at it without saying anything.

Ned’s brows furrowed. “I don’t think so.”

Peter tapped on the clear box. “It’s a Palladium core I encased in resin.”

Ned’s eyes went wide. “No, it’s not-” he trailed off, but Peter nodded.

“Look at the front of it.”

Ned flipped it around and gasped, holding a hand to his mouth. “You got it signed by him?”

Peter smiled. “Yup. This is one of the ones that was inside him,” Peter stopped, holding up a finger. “Wait, not like that.”

Ned grabbed him by the shoulders. “Who cares! Peter! This is the best gift ever!”

Peter grinned even wider as his friend shook him rather aggressively, the zippers on his backpack clanging with the movement. It really hadn’t been that difficult to come by, Tony had just had to replace his, and when Peter asked about it, Tony had happily complied.

He thought it was a little weird at first, but he had just said, “kids these days” then scoffed and walked off, leaving Peter with the core.

Ned stopped shaking him, a frown overtaking his face. “Aww, but all I got you was legos.”

Peter’s face lit up at the mention. “No, are you kidding me? I’m about to get a bunch of sciency stuff from the avengers, all I want are some legos.”

“Alright, fine,” Ned groaned, handing him a bright gift bag.

Peter took it and ripped all of the tissue paper out of the bag. “Yes!” he cheered. “All I needed was the hulk to complete my set.”

Ned raised a brow. “Do the avengers ever find it weird that you collect lego figurines of them?”

Peter felt his cheeks warm. “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never told them.”

“Heard,” Ned nodded.

“Alright, see you in a few days?” Ned asked, bumping his fist against his.

Peter finished the handshake. “Yep, I’ll see you then.”

Usually the two would walk home on the last day, but this year was different. As the snow began to lightly fall over the city, Peter was headed towards the avengers tower for a few days.

Aunt May had won some sort of radio contest back in November to go on a Christmas cruise for five days. She was overjoyed, until she found out she had only been given a ticket for one person. The last thing she wanted to do was leave him alone for Christmas, stating that she would rather work double shifts at the community center for two weeks than ever even think about leaving him by himself in New York. Peter was grateful she didn’t know about his nightly patrols, fearful that she might very well have a heart attack, but he needed to come up with some way to convince her to go anyway. Peter knew she needed a break, but after almost a month of trying to reassure her he’d be fine, even he was starting to run out of ways to convince her.

Peter was ranting about it to Tony one day in the lab, and he’d offered him up a solution on a silver platter.

Apparently, as long as he was staying with the Earth’s mightiest heroes, May was willing to let him stay in New York without her. He’d still had to assure her a dozen times that he would be fine with her leaving him on christmas, but they’d managed to pull it off. Just before school that day, she’d left for the airport with her bags. She’d placed a kiss on his cheek, told him to have fun, and to text lots of pictures. She added on as she stood in the doorframe, that she wanted him to be good for Tony. Peter fought the urge to laugh, considering it would be more fitting if she told Tony to behave himself.

He’d heard rumors of Tony Stark’s infamous Christmas parties, and had been fighting the urge to ask him if he’d be invited for the last week.

The walk passed by faster than it usually did, his mind buzzing with thoughts of what he could get up to for the next five days. As he approached the tower, he looked up at the full height of it. The A was already accumulating a fair amount of snow on top of it as the gray skies above it seemed to swirl around the building.

Peter heaved in a breath before he rang the doorbell. There would be more heroes in the tower than he was used to for the next few days. Tony was inviting all kinds of people from all corners of the universe for the week. He’d already met so many of his heroes, and now he had the potential to interact with even more.He’d tried to tease it out of Tony, but he’d only held a finger to his lips and told him he’d find out eventually. However, here Peter was, and the day was finally here.

At last, he gathered up the courage to actually ring the bell, and he listened intently to the sound echoing through the first few levels of the tower.

It was always a mystery who would open the door for him at the Avengers tower. More often than not, it was Happy or Pepper, but occasionally he would get one of the other’s.

Today, he was surprised to be met with no one. The door unlocked on its own, and it just swung open, seemingly on a stray breeze. Peter walked in cautiously, his footsteps light, but nothing seemed glaringly wrong except for the mysterious door. He quietly hung his bag on the hanger Tony had drilled into the wall, and began tip toeing into the living room.

He turned the corner, peeking out from behind the door frame when he spotted Wanda, and another woman he didn’t recognize.

“Oh, hi Peter!” Wanda called. “The other’s are upstairs in various places.”

“Oh, thanks for letting me in,” he said, staying a distance away from them. They seemed to be in the middle of something before he walked in, the other person on the couch blushing furiously.

Wanda stood, placing her glass of wine on the table beside her. “Oh, I almost forgot, Spider-man this is Tele, Tele this Spider-man.” Wanda turned back to Tele. “Or I guess I should specify, this is our world's Spider-man. God, that’s going to get difficult when everyone gets here.”

At Wanda’s words, Peter’s memory came flooding back to him. “Ohhh, your Peter three’s friend.”

They nodded. “Well it’s nice to officially meet you, but Tony said I should meet him up in the lab when I get here, so I should probably go.”

“Go,” Wanda waved. “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up in the next couple days.”

Peter hoped she was right, he’d been wondering if she’d be in the tower just yet. He had heard she’d been sent on a mission with Tele, Peter three, and Natasha, and he had a lot of questions for her. The occupants of the tower didn’t always notice it, but they had a tendency of telling him things he shouldn’t necessarily know. Not that Peter was complaining, but it was funny how all of their spy training and stoic personalities all softened when they were comfortable around each other.

Peter stepped into one of the elevators and pressed the twelfth floor. It smoothly rode up the line to his floor and when the doors opened, his eyes widened at the winter wonderland in front of him.

It was like he was stepping into santa’s workshop. The billionaire had strung up garland anywhere he could without making it a fire hazard, and there were so many fairy lights strung from the ceiling that the brightness replaced the glow of the regular lab lights.

Peter walked around, taking it all in.

Stockings hung from each large piece of equipment, their names listed on each of them in glitter glue that looked like Morgan had helped. The green and red iron man suit was on display in the middle of the lab, and each of the center poles in the room were wrapped to look like candy canes.

“You like it?” Tony called from the back, his voice echoing a little with all the metal in the room.

Peter spun around, trying to observe all of it in as big of a quantity as he could. “LIke it? I think Santa Claus threw up in here.”

“That better be a compliment Parker, you know I’m not afraid to flip you to the naughty list and take away your presents.” Peter laughed, hearing the teasing in his tone. It was always a challenge when he arrived in the lab to find Tony. Some days he thought the man was purposely making a game of it, but today he found him behind a few monitors with ease.

Peter looked at the screen, leaning over Tony’s desk to look at what he’d been working on. “Funny, you’re not the first person to tell me that today.”

“Well, maybe that means you deserve it,” Tony said, tweaking his ribs.

“Hey!” Peter squeaked, puberty immediately leaving his voice.

“Hey is for horses, what’s it doing in your mouth?” Tony remarked without taking his eyes off of the monitor. Peter backed up, making sure to keep his arms close to his sides.

“What’d you call me up for? What are we working on today?” he asked eagerly.

Tony spun around towards him, looking up at him. “You, my sticky friend, are not working on anything for the next five days.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter groaned. He could work on so many upgrades with all the time he was going to have in the tower. With no school, and no Aunt May, he had nothing stopping him.

Tony held his hands up. “No, I don’t want to hear a whining. I signed on to house a sixteen year old for a few days, not a five year old.”

Peter wanted to say that he was not acting like a five year old, but he feared that would only prove Tony’s point. However, he had never had such an ideal time to work, and he couldn’t give up on the idea that easily. “But I have so many new ideas for my suit.”

“Nope,” Tony said, dramatically popping the ‘p’. “You, my friend, are going to take a few days off, and so am I. There are people being put in place to keep an eye here on earth, and none of those people are you and me.”

“What was the point in decorating the lab then?” Peter asked.

Tony looked at him like the answer to his question was quite obvious, and Peter was reminded of how truly dramatic his mentor was.

Tony patted his back, getting to his feet. “Consider it me paying you back for that time I let you go to space.”

Peter furrowed his brows. “But you didn’t let me? I went without asking.”

Tony slowly turned to him. He stared at Peter for a moment before he started rapidly jabbing his hands into Peter’s midsection wherever he could manage. “Is this really a point you’d like to be arguing five days before Christmas, Parker?”

Peter boyishly giggled as he jumped out of the way. He should’ve known better than to nitpick Tony when he was telling a story. “Noho!”

Tony only followed the teenager, wrapping an arm around him and fluttering his fingers on his neck. “Are you sure?” he teased.

“Yes,” Peter laughed. He lightly pushed him away, taking care to not use too much of his strength considering Tony didn’t even have a suit on.

“Alright, spiderling, I believe you for now. So, are we clear about the rules with lab time?”

Peter couldn’t hide his disappointment, but he shook his head in agreement. “Yes, Mr. Stark.”

“Okay, just a couple other ground rules, and then I’ll let you go.” He clapped his hands together. “We just discussed number one, so you already know no lab time for the next five days, I want you to have some time off. Rule number two, no patrols either, it goes under the time off clause.” Peter groaned, but Tony continued on.

“Rule number three, you have to help Morgan, Pepper, and I wrap gifts because I bought too many gifts for everyone. Rule number four, you need to send your Aunt May an update at least once a day-” Peter started to protest, but Tony held a hand up.

“Ah-ah those are the rules I agreed to for taking you on. If you don’t follow them your Aunt will have my head and yours.”

Peter held his hands up. “I was gonna say that it shouldn’t be a problem because I've already texted her twice today, but okay.”

“Sure you were,” Tony chortled.

“I was!” Peter scoffed.

Tony pushed his reading glasses up on his head. “Well aren’t you nyc’s little golden boy.”

Peter paused, uncertain what to do with the comment. Luckily, Tony moved on from most things pretty quickly.

“Okay, rule number 5, no more calling me Mr. Stark. You are quite literally spending Christmas with me, don’t make it weird. Number six, no shenanigans?”

Peter cocked a brow, and Tony shrugged. “What qualifies as a shenanigan?”

He pointed a finger at him. “Don’t play dumb with me kid.”

Peter gawked at him. “I’m not, what does that mean?”

“Well I don’t want to give you an example, that’ll just give you ideas.”

Peter threw his hands up, and Tony’s facade cracked a little, no longer able to bite down on his smile. “I’m messing with you web slinger, you know I support mischief.”

He pointed a finger at Peter. “Just don’t tell Loki I said that.”

“You have my word, Mr. Stark.”

Tony glared at him and Peter took a preemptive step back. “Sorry, Tony. It’ll take a little getting used to.”

Tony began walking out of the lab, and Peter followed. When Tony came to a sudden stop, so did Peter. “Oh, also, you can come to the Christmas party, but you can’t drink.”

“Oh, come on,” Peter protested.

Tony sighed. “Alright, fine, you can have a singular drink.” Peter began uttering his thanks, and telling him about how responsible he will be, but Tony shushed him. “We’ll pretend we’re in Europe to ease my conscience. You have to promise me you won’t tell your aunt though.”

“I promise,” he agreed, eyes shining. He honestly hadn’t expected to be invited to the christmas party, let alone allowed to drink, and he wouldn’t do anything to make Tony regret it.

“Alright, good,” Tony patted him on the back. “Now be a proper teenager and go bother people or hide in your room, your pick.”

Peter laughed good naturedly, knowing Tony didn’t truly mean it. Or at least, he was fairly sure.

Tony snapped his fingers. “Oh, also if you could bother resident broody and the star spangled banner, that would be the best present you could give me. Truly priceless.”

Peter smiled, heading up the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. “I think I can manage that.”

Tony gave him a thumbs up and they went their separate ways. Peter was surprised he hadn’t received a lecture on gift giving, specifically, on how he should have a lack of it. Last year he had gotten Tony a singular gift for the holidays, just a simple frame of the photo of the two of them, and Tony had given him a gift for ten weeks straight to prove a point. Apparently, billionaires didn’t appreciate teenagers with limited funds using their money on them.

Peter unlocked the door to his room, and jumped on top of his soft duvet. His body went limp, the mattress soaking up every bit of his exhaustion. He sighed contentedly, his eyes fluttering shut. He would just lay here for a little bit, and then he would wander around the tower and visit with everyone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter woke up bleary eyed and still in his clothes from the day before. He rolled, trying to find where his clock was, and realized there was no more bed underneath him. His stomach lurched as his hands scrambled for purchase. He grabbed his sheets, which slowed his fall. He sighed in relief, still half delirious. He stayed there for a second, still trying to figure out what had happened when the sheets lost their hold.

He landed with a thunk and groaned in pain. Apparently, his spidey senses weren’t awake either. He wiped at his eyes, trying to make sense of everything.

He looked up at the clock on his nightstand and had to rub his eyes and read it again to make sure he was seeing correctly. Peter had woken up at nine am the next day.

He wrestled himself out of his sheets and threw them back on the bed. He cursed his teenage body mixed with a spider bite for needing so much sleep. He had probably already missed so many new arrivals while he was sleeping.

As he pulled out some clothes from his dresser, he realized there were decorations all over his room too. He must not have noticed it when he’d walked in yesterday, but someone had done up his room as well. Garland hung from each of his furniture pieces like icicles from the edge of a house, his rug had been changed out to a fluffy red and green one, and he even had some festive attire that someone had thrown in with the rest of his regular clothes.

He opted to forgo the red and green in terms of clothing for the time being. He was already likely going to be the youngest in every room, and he didn’t need everyone looking at him like a child because he was wearing an elf onesie. Besides, that would only bring more attention to him while he was trying to learn about all of the new people.

He quickly showered and threw on his clothes, absentmindedly pushed his hair back and headed out the door.

He ran down the steps at full speed towards the kitchen as his stomach growled. He couldn’t believe he’d slept so late, he’d make sure to set an alarm tomorrow. It was so stupid of him to sleep for so long.

A door clicked open in front of him, and he stopped just a few inches from where his nose would’ve collided with it.

“Little spider,” Natasha laughed, seeing him as the door shut. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

She continued walking, so Peter followed. “I accidentally fell asleep yesterday afternoon when I got home from school, and I just woke up.”

“Oh trust me, you didn’t miss much.” Natasha waved a hand. “The only person in the tower who doesn’t live here went to bed early, Steve and Bucky went on our last grocery trip till after the holidays, and Wanda made a few pie crusts.”

“I know, but-” Peter started, then stopped himself. Natasha had said he didn’t miss much, but she had been a part of this family for longer than he had. He had never spent a Christmas with the Avengers before, and it all felt so new and exciting to him. This was all old business to Natasha, she’d probably find him quite silly.

“What?” she asked, slowing down.

Peter stopped at the next landing to face her. “No, it’s probably dumb. Nevermind.”

“I’m sure it’s not dumb, come on, tell me. Or if it is dumb, then I will forget I heard anything.”

Peter’s lips twitched. “It’s just.” He sighed, but then decided he’d go for it anyway. “I’ve never been here during the holidays, and I just don’t want to miss any of it. I want to soak it all up, ya know?”

He scratched at the top of his head, but then abruptly put his hand back down, thinking the movement looked weird.

Natasha leaned against the stair railing. “Peter,” she smiled. “I was once new to this team too. I know the feeling of wanting to soak up every moment with this family. But trust me, they aren’t going anywhere, and neither are you.”

Peter smacked himself in the forehead. It had only occurred to him till after Natasha said it but it seemed obvious now. He should’ve known that she would understand. It was so silly of him to think he was the only one who had ever felt like this. Still, he knew Natasha wouldn’t take well to him opening the holiday with apologizing to her, so he moved on. “I know that, it just doesn’t feel like it.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “And that’s okay too. It took me a long time to get used to it.” She laughed. “Sometimes I think I’m still getting used to it. But remember, this is a marathon, not a sprint. You’re here for five whole days, don’t run yourself ragged trying to do everything.”

Peter blew a breath out, feeling a little less high strung. “Thanks Natasha.”

She squeezed his arm. “Anytime little spider.”

“Does that mean I can call you big spider?” Peter asked, now following her down the stairs.

She shook her head, chuckling. “I guess so. Just don’t ever say it in front of Clint, or I may have to kill you.”

“Noted.” Peter nodded even though she wasn’t looking at him. He wasn’t certain he would ever be brave enough to call her that to her face, but he saved it away just in case he needed it.

He entered the kitchen, counting four bodies occupying the space, and all sorts of delicious smells wafting around the area.

Natasha leaned in beside him, whispering. “Like I said, pace yourself.”

She walked off, continuing down the steps, and leaving Peter in the chaos. He stood completely still for a moment, unsure of what to do. It almost seemed like they were doing some sort of dance. Pots and pans flew above heads, spoons were passed back and forth, footsteps were carefully made around each other like they had choreographed it all in advance. Peter was worried that if he stepped in, he might throw them off rhythm.

His stomach growled angrily, reminding him that while his bite also made him able to sleep longer, it also meant he needed to eat much more.

“Guys, can I cut into the kitchen to get breakfast?” Peter yelled over simmering liquids and frying meats.

Wanda was the first to turn towards him. “Oh, morning Peter. Can I grab something for you?” She looked at the chaos surrounding her with wide eyes. “I think that would be easier at this point.”

“Yes please, if you could hand me the poptarts, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Oh, do try the new chocolate flavored ones we got spiderling,” Thor said, turning around, whisk in hand. “They are quite delicious.”

“Yeah, I’ll have those if we’ve got ‘em.” Peter nodded. “Please,” he added on quickly.

Wanda flicked her fingers, and the pop tart box flew out of the cabinet. Peter was about to ask how she managed to direct her power so casually without hitting anyone, but then he realized the box was already in his hand.

“Hey, wait, we don’t just hand out food for free,” Bucky scoffed. “I thought we agreed the kitchen was a no touch zone when there were chefs in it.”

“Bucky, you’re making brownies. Calm down, you aren’t cooking up world peace,” Sam called out from the other side of the kitchen.

Bucky pointed a dirty spatula at him with such aggression that Peter let out a laugh. “That’s what you think, but for all you know, the moment you taste these all your problems could be cured.”

“Not unless your attitude disappears,” Sam guffawed.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Wanda, are you going to let this happen?”

Wanda looked about near her breaking point. “If by this you mean letting the boy eat his breakfast, then yes I do.”

Bucky groaned, and Peter couldn’t help but wonder who the teenager in the room was. “Can we at least make him help us?”

Wanda leaned against the counter, her hands on her hips. “Peter, I am currently dealing with actual children, so would you mind helping Bucky with the brownies when you’re done eating your breakfast? Steve was supposed to help him, but now none of us know where he’s got to.”

Peter nodded, shoving a poptart in his mouth. “Of course, I don’t mind helping.”

Wanda smiled fondly at him. “Thank you.” She covered the side of her mouth like it would prevent the others from hearing her as she fake whispered. “This is why you’re my favorite.”

The others protested, but she paid them no mind as she went back to her food. Peter took a few more minutes eating his fill in pop tarts until he joined Bucky in the kitchen. The sounds of automatic whisks, squeezing bottles, and bowls clanking against one another filled his ears.

“Alright, have you ever made brownies before?” Bucky asked, quite seriously.

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, who hasn’t? They come in a box.”

Bucky rolled his eyes for the second time in five minutes. “Homemade brownies Peter. Come on, who do you think I am?”

Peter held his hands up innocently. “Wasn’t trying to take away your brownie points.”

Bucky raised a brow. “Was that a pun?”

Peter tensed. “Maybe?”

He could tell Bucky was desperately trying to bite back a smile, and Peter snickered. “Alright, well, homemade brownies are a much more highly involved process.”

“Okay, so what do we need?” Peter asked, pushing his sleeves up to wash his hands.

Bucky listed off the ingredients and Peter rummaged around the kitchen to find them. However, even after five minutes of looking in the fridge, Peter couldn’t find the eggs.

He poked his head out of the fridge. “Guys, I think we’re out of eggs.”

He looked over to see Thor grimacing. “My apologies, between my breakfast this morning, and clarifying the mead, I think I used the last of them.”

Peter brushed him off, now opening the freezer. “That’s fine, we can just use applesauce.”

“No, we cannot!” Bucky protested. “It calls for eggs.”

Sam leaned around Wanda to look at them. “Barnes, have you never heard of a substitute?”

“No, you have to do the recipe exactly as it says, otherwise it won’t turn out.”

Wanda made cuckoo signs around his head, and Bucky whipped around. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Wanda chirped, going back to whisking. She shot a wink at Peter and it took nearly all of his laughter to not burst out laughing.

Bucky threw his hands up. “What? I’m serious, you should never substitute things. It won’t turn out the same.”

Peter cocked a brow. “Didn’t you grow up during the depression?”

“Are you calling me old?” Bucky asked, his voice lilting.

Peter’s eyes went wide. “No! I mean, wouldn’t it have been common for you to have to substitute things?”

“Yes, which is why it’s not good!” Bucky nearly yelled.

Wanda stirred her soup. “My family had to substitute things all the time, and we were fine.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “And you’re telling me all of them tasted the same?”

Wanda nodded patiently. “Yes, you just have to know what you’re doing.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “Are you saying I don’t know what I’m doing?”

Wanda shrugged. “I mean, you didn’t even know that you should substitute applesauce for eggs. That’s pretty obvious, wouldn’t you agree Peter?”

Peter nodded, knowing better than to be on the opposing team of Wanda, and Tony’s earlier words playing in his mind. Bucky flicked him in the arm. “Ow,” Peter winced.

Wanda continued adding things to her soup as she spoke to Bucky. “It seems to me that this is more of a skill issue.”

Bucky sighed. “Wanda,” he said, his tone warning. Peter kept his eyes on both of them, sensing the rising tension and wondering where it would go.

“What?” she asked innocently, her eyes widened. “I think you might just be bad at baking, it’s alright, not everyone can be good at it.”

“Maximoff, I swear,” he started.

“Barnes, don’t swear in front of the kid!” she gasped, her eyes lighting up with mischief.

“Yeah!” Peter agreed indignantly.

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “He’s sixteen, he curses all the time.”

Wanda propped a hand up on her hip. “Peter, cover your ears, don’t listen to the man with the potty mouth.”

Peter followed her lead, putting his hands up on his head. “Yeah, Bucky, how dare you accuse me of such things!”

Bucky looked done with both of them. “Peter, you say shit about seventy times every time you’re in the lab.”

“How dare you! Peter would never do that!” Wanda said, looking like she was about to burst with how much laughter she was holding back.

“You know what Maximoff?” he said, his lip twitching.

She took a step closer. “What?” she asked, raising her brows. Peter backed up, having the innate sensation that one of them was going to snap and it wasn’t going to go well.

They were both perfectly still for a moment, and then Bucky struck. He grabbed her by the stomach with his metal arm, too quick for her to use her magic against him, and began scratching at her sides.

“Bucky,” she squealed, her legs kicking out at him and continually missing.

Peter did his best to fade into the shadows, suddenly forgetting his alliance. He knew how quickly the tables could turn, and how ruthless Bucky could be. Wanda hit out at his metal arm, her magic getting lost in between her laughter. “Are you going to stop giving me a hard time?” he asked.

“Nohoho,” she giggled, twitching all over the place as his fingers darted across her skin.

“Peter!” Wanda yelped. “Help me!”

Peter hesitated for a moment, but decided it would be in his best interest to keep the scarlet witch on his side.

With a quiet, “thwip!”, he webbed Bucky’s metal arm, pulling it behind his back to give Wanda an escape.

She fell to the floor in a heap of laughter, and Bucky let her go, not bothering to continue torturing her.

Peter was surprised he didn’t put up more of a fight, until he realized Bucky was slowly turning towards him.

“Wait,” Peter said, holding his hands in front of him. He had just poked a sleeping bear.

“Did you just web me?” Bucky asked, watching Peter out of the corner of his eye.

Peter could feel Thor behind him, and Sam watching the whole thing in interest now. All of his senses were suddenly alert, like he was about to go into battle. What all of his systems were currently telling him was that he needed to run, and quickly.

Without answering Bucky’s question, he leapt over the kitchen counter, sprinting towards the steps.

“Oh no you don’t, you pest,” he heard Bucky call after him.

Peter ran full force through the living room, thinking that if he could just make it to the steps and get the door shut behind him, then maybe he could make his escape.

He was a few steps away, just only a few more seconds and he would be free. His hand reached for the door, and he pushed it open. He got a foot in the door when a familiar cold arm wrapped around his middle.

“No!” Peter yelled, grabbing a hold of the door frame. He attempted to pull himself forward, but Bucky merely spidered his fingers in Peter’s armpits and he immediately lost his grip, his arms shooting down to protect himself.

Bucky threw him over his shoulder with an ease that Peter wasn’t used to.

“That’s not fair,” he protested. He tried to wiggle out of Bucky’s arms, but there was no give.

“No, what’s not fair is that you all get to act like little shits, and annoy me without any repercussions,” Bucky said, walking towards the couch.

Peter began to panic, squirming around like a bug caught in a web. He knew the moment that Bucky had him pinned he was done for.

“Bucky! Wait! We promise we won’t bother you anymore!” Peter said as a last ditch effort.

“You promise?” Bucky asked, standing directly over the couch.

“Promise.” Peter said, earnestly.

Bucky paused, beginning to set Peter down. Peter blew out a sigh of relief, then, Bucky reversed his direction and threw Peter forward onto the couch. “Too bad, I want my fun now.”

He jumped on top of him, pinning his arms above his head, and sitting on his thighs.

“Bucky, Bucky, wait!”” Peter called, nervous giggles already leaking out of him.

“Wait for what?” Bucky asked, his metal arm hovering over Peter’s stomach.

“Wanda, hELP!” Peter squealed, but was cut off as Bucky’s hand began fluttering everywhere he could reach.

“Just because you can’t bake, doesn’t mean you need to take it out on the rest of us!” Peter giggled.

“You know, I was going to take it easy on you since you just finished finals, but nevermind,” Bucky huffed. He began squeezing Peter’s ribs, softly brushing his thumb into each one.

“I take it back!” Peter wheezed, descending into frenzied cackles. It was a cruel move, targeting his ribs like that. It always sent Peter reeling, his body not knowing what to do with all of the sensations his skin was taking in, and Bucky was especially good at making him shriek.

“Oh, do you now?” Bucky teased, a terrifying smirk on his face.

“Yes!” Peter tugged at his arms in vain. It was no use, with Bucky at his full strength, and Peter weakened by his laughter, he couldn’t overpower him very easily. Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

“Wanda save me!” he yelled, deciding it was in his best interest to rely on someone else’s power.

Peter faintly heard the sound of a door clicking open and prayed it was Tony. He also had a tendency of tickling him, but at least maybe he would accidentally distract Bucky long enough that he could escape.

To his horror though, the worst possible person had shown up. “What’d he do this time, Buck?” Steve asked, sounding unsurprised.

“Be a little shit like usual,” Bucky shrugged.

Steve came out of his peripheral vision, and walked in front of him, briefly wiggling his fingers over his socked feet. “STEVE!” Peter yelled, kicking out as much as he could with Bucky’s weight on his legs.

“Wow, I always forget how ticklish you are,” Steve tutted, removing his hand.

“Not helping!”

Bucky tasered his sides with his fingers. “He’s not trying to, he’s on my side unlike you other assholes.”

“Wanda!” Peter tried again, sensing the team up that was about to happen.

Bucky looked up at Steve, not stopping his attack on Peter while he did. “Oh yeah, Steve, would you mind going to deal with the red head over there?”

“What did she do?” Steve asked as if there wasn’t a teenager dying of laughter right beside them.

Bucky gestured down towards him, and Peter’s face lit up red. Something about being destroyed by laughter while they held a casual conversation made the sensations so much worse. “Same as Peter.”

Steve nodded. “Ah, I see.” He began walking towards her, and though Peter knew it would only further nail his coffin shut, he yelled over at her.

“Wanda save yourself!”

Bucky cocked his head, momentarily pausing. “You really don’t give up do you?”

Peter shook his head. “Friendly neighborhood spiderman.” He smiled sheepishly.

Bucky positioned his hands atop Peter’s ribs. “Well spiderman, you are far too ticklish to be this risky.”

Peter shrugged, his eyes alight with mirth. “At least I can bake.”

Bucky deadpanned, his fingers wrapping around the backs of Peter’s ribcage. “Okay, now you’re just asking for it.”

Bucky attacked, and Peter immediately fell back into his laughter. Loud cackles burst from his mouth as Bucky squeezed higher up on his ribs.

“Peter, oh my god, stay still, I’m trying to count all of your ribs.”

“Nohoh!” Peter squealed, having played this game with Tony too many times.

“Well now we’re going to have to start all over again,” Bucky huffed, squeezing each rib from the bottom to the top. Peter was going berserk, having one of his worst spots targeted for so long. He briefly opened his eyes and saw Wanda being thrown on the couch next to him. Steve didn’t give her a chance to escape and went straight for her neck.

He screeched as Bucky reached the tops of his ribs again, praying he wouldn’t start the process all over again. However, it was only when he felt Bucky’s fingers climbing higher still that he began to panic.

“Bucky, don’t you dare!”

Bucky paused for a moment, and Peter heaved in deep breaths while he was still able to. “Oh.” Bucky leaned in, smirking in a way that Peter knew that no amount of pleading would convince him to move anywhere else.

“I dare,” he hissed, then jammed his fingers into Peter’s armpits. Peter didn’t make any noise for a moment. He dug his heels into the couch, trying to find the leverage to throw Bucky off of him, he twisted around from side to side, trying to dislodge Bucky’s fingers. He would almost get adjusted to one side, then Bucky would start tickling his other armpit. However, his body was only able to contain the noise so long, and he burst into a scream.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Peter panickedly squeaked.

Bucky turned towards the other couch. “See, Wanda? I told you he curses.”

Peter could just barely hear her screams of laughter above his own, but he could’ve sworn she told him to shut up.

“Now,” Bucky said, turning his attention back to him. “If we can just manage to convince you I can bake.”

Peter was writhing on the couch, his laughter beginning to make his abdomen hurt. Though, he was admittedly not fighting as hard as he could. “You can’t though!” he yelled out.

“Okay, seriously, does anything tire you out?” Bucky said, momentarily pausing his hands.

Peter shook his head, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. “You’re maybe the only person I know who’s as stubborn as that guy back there,” Bucky teased, pointing to Steve, who was currently making light work of Wanda’s giggles.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Peter smiled, heaving in air.

“It is one,” he smiled. He ruffled Peter’s hair gently, which Peter doubted he’d attempt if he wasn’t currently pinned underneath him. “However,” Bucky started, sitting upright. “Just like him, it’ll get you tickled a lot.”

Bucky released his arms, and Peter’s brows furrowed. He started to sit up, but Bucky had yet to get off of him. Without taking his weight off of him, he adjusted himself so he was still sitting on Peter’s legs, except he was facing the other way.

Suddenly, Peter’s face went white. “Wait, Bucky please no.”

“Can I bake, Parker?” he asked, without looking at him.

Peter sighed, laying back down so he could save some of his energy. “No,” he answered plainly.

“That’s what I thought,” Bucky sighed.

Bucky didn’t make Peter wait any longer for his payback and all ten of his fingers began dusting across his socked soles. Peter was sent into immediate hysterics. He gave up trying to plead with him, but he couldn’t stop his body from rolling around the couch as continual giggles poured from his mouth. Every so often he would snort if Bucky got him with a particularly good method, or if he would stray upwards to his toes, but Bucky continued until Peter got all of the laughter out of him.

However, once the tears started to prick at the corners of his eyes, he let up. “Have you learned anything today?” he asked, getting up and sitting next to him. Peter stayed laying down, catching his breath. He noticed that someone must have lit the fire because he could hear something crackling.

“Not much,” he breathed out.

“I figured.” Bucky patted his knee. “But I’m always happy to teach you again.”

Peter jumped up from the couch, nearly taking his shin out on the coffee table, and Bucky laughed. “Not now, I’m not cruel.”

Peter raised his brows. “Okay, I’m not that cruel,” Bucky deadpanned. Peter glared at him, though he knew he didn’t really mean it.

He sat back down next to him. “You deserve payback for that.”

Bucky bumped his shoulder against him. “I don’t think so, I didn’t start it.”

A red light flashed through the living room. “I would beg to disagree.”

Peter and Bucky turned to see Steve on the ground. “Peter, care to join me?” Wanda asked, grinning.

Bucky attempted to run, but all it took was one flick from Wanda’s wrist and he was on the ground.

“Sam help!” Bucky yelled. Sam started running towards him, but abruptly came to a stop.

Wanda held an orb of dark red power in her hand, eyeing him carefully.

He held his hands up, walking backwards towards the kitchen. “No, thank you.” He grabbed a hold of a bowl. “Someone’s gotta keep stirring your soup.”

Wanda smiled, her nose scrunching up.

“Care to humble some super soldiers for the holidays?” Wanda asked. She twisted her magic and Steve burst into bright giggles.

Peter always knew it was best to keep the scarlet witch on his side. “Absolutely,” he agreed.

The tower was filled with laughter for quite some time, and lots of threats were said with no real violence behind them. When all was said and done, Peter was absolutely certain he was in for a very interesting winter break with his family.

Second author’s note: Hello my lovelies!! I know it’s been awhile since I uploaded on here, three years to be exact, but I had to come back for squealing Santa. Hopefully the fact that I’ve been working on my book has kept my fanfic skills in shape. While I can’t say I’m fully back to posting, I hope you enjoyed this, and I do have some other fics in the works. (Also if you read closely I put in an Easter egg for a future fic)

Taglist: @tenaciousperfectionunknown @teti-menchon0604 @tell-me-when-ur-ready

#quillsandtyposwrites #q&t marvel #marvel tickle fic #marvel tickle #marvel #lee!peter #Ler!bucky #ler!steve #Lee!wanda #ler!tony #marvel tickle fluff #bucky fluff #peter parker fluff #marvel tickle fanfiction #marvel tickle fanfics #tickle fanfic #ss2k24 #squealing santa 2k24

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shadow-says-hello · 8 months ago

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“Where’s Alpine?!”

Sooo I wrote this a while back and idk if the marvel fandoms been as active as it used to be but I haven’t checked so idk shit. My friend rlly loves my writing and bucky so I wrote this as a gift for them and decided I would be brave and share it with y’all. And alpine is buckys cat from the comics, incorporated her. I have a few unposted fanfics that I might release soon yaaa

Summary: You ran off with Bucky’s precious cat, Alpine, and he has to punish you for it. (A few notes, Bucky is really protective of Alpine and in this story you are dating, also bucky lives with the avengers in the compound with you, enjoy!)

Also, this is completely sfw

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

“Alpine? Where’d you go?” Bucky called for his white she-cat, Alpine. She meant a lot to Bucky, and he meant a lot to her.

Well, now Alpine was lost somewhere in the compound, and Bucky needed her!

Bucky went over possible causes. Maybe she was asleep, which was usually the case, but he had checked every spot she would be asleep in. She was nowhere. And the doors and windows were closed.

So, she was probably with her other owner, you.

You were mischievous. You loved your boyfriend so much, you would do anything to capture his attention. And, you love animals too. So Alpine was also a huge part of your life.

Bucky sighs and goes to your room. And, as he thought, Alpine was in there.

“Doll, we talked about this. Alpine is my cat, you can not run away with her.”

“Come on! Pleaseeee! You never share her. I just wanted to play with her!! She loves me!” You beg, hugging Alpine tight, teasing him with a pleading voice.

“She’s like my emotional support animal. Sweetface, I need her. Please, give her back.” Bucky frowns.

“Pleaseee!? Can I please stay with her?” You continue to ask.

“No. I want her back!”

“Pleaseee Bucky????”

“Doll…” Bucky warned.

“What?” You ask.

“You know what will happen if you keep this up…”

Bucky had a playful glint in his eyes. You knew what would happen. He loved you, though you may annoy him at times, but you were his partner…he couldn’t hurt you, so he would do the one method he knew to make you surrender easily…

Tickles.

“Wait! What? No!” Your eyes widen a little in surprise and slight desperation. You were really reluctant to give him that cat, because of how much you wanted her right now…but no one was here to save you either.

“Then give her to me.” Bucky leaned on your bed, scary close to where you were sitting with Alpine. Of course he could just take her right now, but he wanted to make this fun for the both of you.

“No way!”

“Fine. You leave me no choice. Let the tickles commence.” Bucky smirked and then grabbed your legs, pulling you closer to him. He pinned your arms above your head with his strong vibranium arm, and used his free hand to scribble under your arms.

You began giggling immediately. And that, as adorable as it sounds, put a smile to Bucky’s face. Seeing his significant other laugh was like music to his ears, and, he liked to see you like this. Made him amused.

“BUHUCKY NO!” You squeal, squirming as he tickled you.

“Bucky yes!” He mocks, moving his hand down to tickle your sides. “You gonna give up, doll?”

“NOHO!! NEHEVER!” You laugh, making weak attempts to get away, but he had you where he wanted you, and his metal arm was way too strong. All you needed to do was give in.

Alpine just sat and watched you two on the bed, lightly grooming her own fur as her big blue eyes stared down. Maybe in her little cat brain this entertained her.

“You’re practically asking for this, love. You just want me to keep going, don’t you?” Bucky asks, tickling your ribs.

“NO!” You lie. You liked it. And you didn’t want to give up the kitty.

“Mm hm. You haven’t told me to stop yet.”

Touché. Your face flushed a little at that. He wasn’t wrong.

When his hand made it to your eighth rib down, your laugh increased a little and your squirming also got worse. He shook his fingers deep into your rib bones, and it tickled. Like hell.

“NONO NOT THEHERE-“ You beg and plead out, and, what really caught Bucky’s eye was the fact your shirt rode up a little bit because of your squirming.

“Oh, let’s see what we’ve got here…” Bucky’s smirk increased as he moved his hand across the sliver of stomach showing.

“WAHAHAIT NO- PLEHEASE BUCKY!!” You kick your legs and squirm, to no avail.

Bucky slid your t-shirt up, resting the hem at the top of your midriff, near your lower ribs. You knew what was coming thanks to what he just said, and it was gonna be bad.

“BUCKY-!” You tried begging again.

“Saying my name won’t change anything, doll.” Bucky blew a huge raspberry, biggest he can muster on your belly. You squealed and screamed real loudly.

And the more you laughed the more fuel that gave your idiot boyfriend to just keep going. So he blew like, 10 more.

“BUCKY PLEASE-“

Raspberry.

“NAHAH-“

Raspberry.

He was so good at it. It was wayyy too ticklish.

“So, you’re gonna give me Alpine?” The super soldier asks, before blowing another raspberry.

You didn’t want to answer so you just kept on laughing, but surely his next antic would get you to give in.

“Well, suit yourself. Tickle monsters’ got you in his clutches.” Bucky teases, before nibbling gently on your sides and belly, making dumb “nomnom” noises.

It made your laughter increase to the highest octave and your face become crimson red.

“Omnomnom, your belly tastes good.” He smirks into your belly before nibbling again, a bit harder.

After a few minutes of this, you couldn’t stand it anymore, and…

“I SUHUHURENDERRR!!!!” You scream. “YOU CAN HAVE ALPINE!”

Bucky slowed his tickles, giving one last raspberry to your belly to make you squeal, and then finally stops. It took you a bit to stop giggling, but you finally stopped and caught your breath.

“There we go. That wasn’t so hard!” He snickers, and then lets go of your arms and pulls your shirt down.

“You’re so cruel.” You roll your eyes.

“You love it.” Bucky chuckles, before ruffling your hair and taking his cat back, holding her like a baby in his arms.

He wasn’t wrong.

The end! 🐉 💕

#tickle community #tickling #tickle #sfw #sfw tickle community #sfw tickling #tummy tickling #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #ler!bucky #alpine #lee!reader

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teddysterk · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! Can you write a Bucky Barnes x ticklish reader headcanon on how he would tickle you and what teases he would say to make you blush and flustered?

Yes Ofcourse! Thank you so much for my first request! ❤️❤️❤️

(Also this is written as platonic I don’t feel comfortable writing romantic stuff ❤️)

Bucky Barnes X Y/N tickle headcannons

Bucky is a ler-leaning switch! He always has been, considering he has little siblings and Steve around. ❤️

Because of this big brother energy, he can be terrifying when it comes to tickles. Be careful when pranking him!

When Y/N joined the team and moved into the compound, Bucky and Y/N quickly became friends! :)

One day Y/N was play-wrestling with Bucky, and he grabbed your side in a way that made them make a noise… but not a pained noise… a cute noise! 🫣

From that day on, it was AWFUL (amazing) being around Bucky…. He would take any chance he could to fluster or tickle you. He would be the type to take advantage of little stretches or when Y/N is busy/distracted doing something else.

Also, over half of the play fights turned into tickle fights! 🥰

If Y/N was bugging Bucky for attention or decided it was a good idea to mess with Bucky, there is a 98% chance it would end with tickles.

He seems like a very playful type! Expect teases like “What’s so funny?” And “Will you quit giggling? I’m trying to talk to you!” Also….. Bucky and wiggly fingers OMG, that man will do anything to make you also soft and giggly he would be in a play fight and pin you down and wiggle his fingers or smirk at you.

Even with Bucky being more playful, he knows when it’s too much, or you’re not in the mood.

Bucky is a big fan of cuddly tickles in softer moods! If Y/N and Bucky are relaxing after a mission or long day, he will give the best light tickles to keep a smile on your face while you two wind down.

(A cute little scenario that is very much Bucky tickle vibes)

Y/N looks at their phone and sees it’s already 11:30. Bucky hasn’t gotten out of bed yet because he was exhausted from a mission he got back from late last night, but still, this man needs to get his butt out of bed. Y/N goes to his room and sees the super soldier asleep in bed. They go over to him and started shaking him awake, but he wouldn’t budge, so they shook him harder. “Bucky, get up, you lazy old man!” Bucky still doesn’t budge. “Huh? Bucky?” Y/N says as they sit right next to Bucky on the bed. “Are you dea- ACK!!” Y/N gets cut off by Bucky rolling over on top of them. “WHAT THE HELL!? Bucky!!” Y/N says as they smack his arm. Bucky is trying so hard not to giggle and “stay asleep,” he still has a tight smile on his face though.

Suddenly, Y/N feels two arms start to scribble on their sides. “Heheeyy! BuhUHKY!” Y/N laughs out as the Bucky begins scribbling on their ribs too. “GEHHETT OHHFFF YOU JEHHERRKK!” Y/N screeches out as Bucky digs into their hips. Bucky giggles a little and starts fake snoring. With all the tickles, Y/N can’t do much besides laugh. But after a little while, they manage to squeal out a “BUCKY!!” before dissolving into giggles again. Bucky finally lets up, and rolls over with Y/N on top of him, and traps them in a bear hug. “Yohhoouu suhhuuck!” Y/N says, letting out the remaining giggles. “Hey, it’s not my fault you decided to disturb my beauty sleep,” Bucky says as he kissed Y/N’s head.

(Credit to the gif owner)

Also thank you so much @the-gingerbread-lee and @cantsaythetword for help with editing and confidence to post my first request ❤️

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star-stuckwithgay · 1 year ago

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Ticklish?

!UPDATED¡

This is my first fic so please dont judge.

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗒：𝖯𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗒．𝖳𝗈𝗇𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄．

Tony is trying to upgrade one of his suits when he hears a certain someone hop in the lab.

“Hey Mr. Stark!“

“Hey kid,what do ya need“ He asked,still trying to work.

“Nothing.“ He said,being obvious that he wants something.

“I know you want something,you can tell me its not like I’ll lash out at you.“ Peter was embarassed because he never usually comes to Tony when he wants attention.

“Really, it’s nothing. I just came to see what you were doing. “

“I’m just working on a suit upgrade.” He said,trying to get Peter to tell him what he wants by not talking about it. Peter usually doesn’t tell Tony what he wants right away because he doesn’t wanna bother him or anything,but he eventually tells him if they’re just standing/sitting there.

“Why don’t you go hang out with Harley?” He asked,thinking that would get him to talk.

“I’m good.” He said seriously. Tony turned around to look at him.

“Okay seriously kid,I know you want something. Just tell me,it hurts that you don’t feel comfortable telling me.”

“It’s not that I don’t feel comfortable,it’s just… 𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀...“ He whispered the last part.

“What was that last part?“ He asked,while Peters face was turning red as a tomato.

“It’s embarrassing!“ He raised his voice a little. Tony laughed a little,

“Juhust tell me.“ Tony patted his head but accidentally touched his neck while pulling his hand back.

“EEP!“ Peter jumped back like 1 foot away. Tony thought for a moment and then it hit him.

“Peter,are you tihicklish?“

“No!“ He said defensingly. Peters ears and neck have now turned red along with his face.

“Then whyhy are you so rehed?” He laughed,knowing he’s lying.

“It’s just hohot!” Peter said,his face burning with embarrassment. Tony snickers,

“Sure sure,then you wouldn’t mind if I tested it out right?” He said teasingly. If it were possible,Peters face would’ve turned even more red.

“Uh,I think I gotta go,I’ve already over-stayed my visit!” Peter blurts out,already sprinting away from Tony. Before he could even get a foot away from him,he feels a hand wrap around his arm,yanking him backwards.

“Oh no you don’t you little twerp!” He knocked him down to the floor and pinned his arms above his head.

“You wouldn’t lie to me right Peter?~” He teases with a poke to his side.

“EEK!” He squealed with a rather unmanly voice. Tony then squeezed his side.

“StoHOhop!” He hoped this stopped as soon as possible,or did he?

“I thought you said you weren’t ticklish Pete~” Tony was now lightly scribbling his hip.

“I’m noHOOO-“ Tony drilled his finger into Peter’s middle rib.

“You wanna finish that sentence?” He teased,making Peter squeal. As he started to get to his top rib, Peter’s laugh was getting higher.

“TohoHO clohOse!” Tony stopped and Peter was just lying there with heavy breathing and light giggles.

“Does someone have a tickle spot there?~” He teased like he was teasing a toddler. Peter’s bright blush rushed to his ears and neck, looking anywhere but Tony’s eyes.

“I think they doooo~” Peter’s blush got darker,

“And that someone is, you~” He started digging into Peter’s underarms, making him laugh like crazy, his eyes squeezed shut.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAAAA” He screamed, Bucky was a little near where they were, so he was alerted and rushed to the lab.

“What happened?!-“ He was surprised to what he saw. Tony looked up, noticing him,

“Oh hey Buck! Just trying to get this little bug to talk.” He says, now scribbling lightly. Bucky immediately pulls out his phone and starts recording.

“Just tell me what you want so bad~” He’s enjoying this just as much as Peter, and so is Bucky.

“EHEHEHEHEEEEE” He squirms, knowing he couldn’t get away. Even if he was trying.

“I am SO showing this to the whole tower later!” Bucky says making Peter try to look up at him.

“NOHOHOHO” Bucky smiles down at him sinisterly. He squeals when Tony starts poking and prodding at his sides.

“StOhOhOhOp!” He laughs, hoping this wouldn’t end as soon as he thought he would. But then Tony starts digging at Peter’s hips.

“AHahAh! 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘵” He stops, his jaw hanging wide open while also smiling. And Bucky is just laughing his ass off in the back.

“Thahahat is a nehehew souhond.” Peter lies there with his face as red as a tomato. Giggles still spilling out of his mouth.

“Sh-shuhut uhup man!” He says while pushing his face. Bucky stops recording and runs away still laughing,

“Saham! Hey Samhm!”

“Noho! Mr.Stahark get ohoff so I can get hihim!” Peter laughs, trying to get up.

“Sorry, no can do.” He says, then starts digging into his sides.

“NoHoHo! Mr.StAHahark!” Tony ignores him and keeps going.

“You stihill haven’t told me whyhy you can into my lahab!” He laughs, making Peter cover his blushy face.

“Dohont cover your cuhute little fahace!” He says, then tickling his underarms.

“NOHOHOHOHOHO!!” He really didn’t want to tell him why since he was so embarrassed, plus he didn’t really want this to end either.

“You gonna tell me why now?” But then again, he couldn’t STAND the teasing.

“OKAYAY OKAYAY ILL TAHAHAHALK!” Tony stops, looking at him with a teasing questioning look. Peter lays there giggling trying to catch his breath.

“Ihi just.. wahanted attention…” He whispered the last part.

“What was that?”

“I wanted attention!” He yells, with bright blush on his face. Tony chuckles with an adored look on him.

“You could’ve juhust asked bahambino.” He lets up, with Peter covering his face in a tiny ball.

“You have nohothing to be embarrassed about Pete.” He smiles at him. Peter slowly uncovers his VERY blushy face.

“I didn’t wanna bug you..” He says quietly, making Tony’s heart break from adorable-ness.

“Yohou could never bug mehe bud. That’s vehery adorable.” Peter’s blush darkens.

After that, they come upstairs to find Bucky and Sam laughing at Bucky’s phone and hearing Peter’s loud laugh coming from it. God, they were gonna tease him so bad for this.

FINALLY FUCKING DONE! AFTER MONTHS.

#irondad and spiderson #spiderman tickle #tony tickles peter #lee!peter ler!tony #not a ship #Bucky Barns #sam wilson #peter parker #tony stark

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simplee-dreaming · 2 years ago

Text

Ticklish Trainee

A/N: First story for a while. Short but sweet so hope you like it!

Word count: 577

Summary: Wanda uses your weakness against you.

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

You flop down on the sofa, groaning into a cushion, which makes Wanda giggle.

“What’s up, doll?” She asks, stroking your hair.

“Barnes.”

“Ah,” Wanda grinned, “upped the pace, did he?”

“He seems to think I’m on his level. I can’t compete with that beast,” you rolled onto your back and groaned again.

“Well he must think you’re more capable than you think.”

“Not true. I’ve seen him big up Sam even though Sam is nowhere near his level.”

“Don’t let him hear that,” Wanda giggled again. “Do you want to switch training partners? Maybe Steve is a better choice?”

“Steve is worse. All I have to do is poke the punching bag and he’ll ask if I hurt myself.”

“But you could really injure yourself from a single poke!” Wanda gasped.

“Shut up,” you chuckled.

“No but seriously! Imagine the damage!” Wanda exaggerated, poking your sides to make a point.

“Hey! Stop that!” You squirmed.

“Not until you prove your worth,” Wanda pinned you to the sofa and started squeezing your sides and ribs. You arched your back and cackled.

“NOHOT FAHAIR!”

“Villains aren’t fair. Now come on Y/N, try and fight me!”

You thrashed your arms around trying to push her off but she wouldn’t budge. Instead, she grabbed your wrists, pinned them above your head and nuzzled her face into your neck.

“WHOA HEHEY NOHO!” You squealed. Wanda’s laugh sent further vibrations to your neck and you kicked your legs in response.

“Ooh bad spot?” Wanda blew multiple raspberries on your neck whilst letting go of your wrists to tickle your armpits. You screamed and thrashed but her bodyweight kept you pinned.

“Cootchie cootchie coo…” Wanda teased in your ticklish ear. Seeing her laugh at your reactions somehow made everything 10x more ticklish. She sat back up to claw at your tummy and sides which made you buck.

“AHAHAHA NOHOT THERE!” You screamed as she kneaded your hips. But she just smirked at you as she continued tickling.

“Do you mind not killing my trainee?” A voice came from the door.

Wanda stopped and you both looked over to see Bucky leaning against the doorframe.

“I just wanted to see if she could protect herself. But I think we know the answer…” she squeezed your side again and you shrieked.

“Y/N…you’ll never get anywhere if you’re this ticklish,” Bucky sighed but a hint of a smile formed on his lips.

“I can’t help it!” You protested.

“Alright well we’re gonna have to train you out of it,” he replied.

“How?”

“By tickling you until you become immune..” he nodded at Wanda and she turned back to you, smirking evilly.

“Nononononono…” you protested but Wanda had already gone back to tasering your ribs.

You were so distracted by that sensation that you didn’t even notice Bucky sit on your legs.

“WHAT THE F-” you screamed as Bucky tickled your feet. Wanda laughed at your shock and the two of them tickled you in every weak spot they could find until you physically couldn’t take anymore.

“Alright sprout,” Bucky got off of your legs, “See you tomorrow in the training room. You’re gonna need to rest before I get you again…my ticklish trainee,” he winked and your heart fluttered.

Wanda got off you too and pulled you in for a cuddle.

“Oh Y/N, you are so screwed..” she chuckled.

You giggled, knowing full well you were going to enjoy training from now on.

#tickle fic #marvel tickle fic #ler!wanda #lee!reader #ler!bucky

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amour-de-ma-lee · 1 year ago

Text

Respect your elders

Summary: you keep teasing Steve about his age so the two super soldiers get revenge

Y/N is at the avengers compound with Steve and Bucky, who have recently figured out she’s ticklish after playfully poking her.

They’re trying to pick out a movie, Y/N scrolls past different movies and pauses at Jurassic world. She looks at Steve with a grin, “so, what was it like back then?” Steve sighs with a playful glint in his eyes, “they died like 65 million years ago, darling.” She giggles in response, “oh so they were after you became a popsicle, okay” “You know what, Y/L/N?” She raises her eyebrows, “what?”

“Let’s see how youthful you can be, darling.”

He then instructs her to sit towards him and with her back to Bucky. As soon as she does it, he starts poking her sides. She falls into giggles and after not being able to push his hands away she squirms away, falling back, right into buckys lap. Her back on his lap, and her bare stomach, revealed by her cropped sweater in the open.

“I knew you were ticklish but I didn’t expect you to be this ticklish” Steve smirks at her. Y/N is still giggling a little and blushing, “I’m nottt, you just surprised me.”

“Oh, really?” A mischievous grin forming on buckys face as he brings his fingers above her stomach, slowly wriggling them. “James, don’t you dare.” She squeals as his hand forms a claw and starts tickling all over her stomach and a little bit of her sides. She desperately tries to squirm away and kicks out her legs, accidentally kicking Steve. He chuckles, “oh, you’re kicking me now?”. Steve then uses his legs to pin down hers, so that her socked feet are in his lap. “I can’t believe you kicked me” “HAHHAPLEASEHAHASTEVEHAH” “Please what? Tickle you? Of course darling” He starts scribbling over her feet, after a few seconds she’s squirming so much her socks start going off. He then takes them off completely and starts tickling over her bare feet. She’s laughing hysterically now and can’t even talk. “HAHAHAHAPLHAHHAHHAEASE” both men continue tickling her, Bucky is still clawing at her stomach but is now also tickling her neck with his other hand and Steve has started to tickle her sole of one foot with his left hand and play little piggy with her other foot and right hand.

“HAHAHAHIYIELDHAHAHAHAH”

“What was that, doll?” Bucky says, smirking.

“HAHAISURRENDERHAHAHAHA” finally both men slow down the tickles and eventually stop completely. She’s completely out of breath and still giggling a little, Steve lets go off her legs and she curls up on buckys lap. Eventually they settle on actually watching Jurassic world and not even 10 minutes in she falls asleep in buckys arms.

#lee!reader #ler!bucky #ler!steve #ticklish!reader #tickle story

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harrystylesboobear · 1 year ago

Text

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????

#mcu tickle #marvel tickle #ler steve rogers #tword content #lee steve rogers #ler bucky barnes #lee bucky barnes #lee reader #tickle #tickle fluff #steve rogers tickle #bucky barnes tickle

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valiantphantomangel · 7 months ago

Note

Fic idea for you: You get stuck in an elevator with Chris Evans & Sebastian Stan. After talking for a while one of them accidentally finds out you’re horribly ticklish. Reader is a teenage girl.

BTW I LOVE your fics, they’re so good

A/n: so sorry that this took so long but here it is!! I'm working through every request that was send in so more fics to come in the next weeks!! Not proofread

Bad luck

How in the name of all that's holy did you have the worst luck in the entire solar system, you do not know but there is one thing that you did know.

It sucks.

First your favorite mug handle just broke off when you wanted your morning drink.

That put you in a sour mood but clearly the gods were not done testing your patience yet, you managed to forget your lines not once, not twice, but three times in a row.

And now you were stuck in a God Damm elevator with two of the guys that loved getting on your nerves.

Absolutely wonderful.

"Well it's going to be a while before someone can come and get us so I suggest we just sit tight" Chris Evans mused as he sat down on the ground on your right side and Sebastian on your left.

"Great" i groan as i lean your head against the elevator wall.

"What got you in such a sour mood today?" Sebastian asked as he looked at you.

"You do not wanna know"

"Alright then, continue being moody" he said with a roll of his eyes as he gave you an innocent poke in the side.

At least that's what it was supposed to be, you flinched away from the contact and look between them, hoping they didn't notice.

"What was that?" Chris asked with a smirk as he looked down at you.

"Nothing, just a flinch"

"Oh really? So it wouldn't be that you're actually ticklish?" Sebastian asked with one and the same smirk as he pinched your sides.

A squeal left your mouth and you immediately knew you were screwed.

Chris pulled your upper body towards him, you back against his chest and Seb grabbed your legs and pulled them to his lap, throwing one of his own legs over yours to trap yours.

"Don't you dare!" You say with a nervous giggle. A blush already rising in your neck.

"But I thought you said you weren't ticklish" Chris said with a fake confused expression "We've got to check that" he tasered your side with one hand and with the other pinned your hands against your chest.

"STOPHAHHA ITHAHAHA" you screamed in laughter which only grew louder as Seb started to squeeze your knees.

"Tell you what, when we think that you're done being moody we will let you go" He said as Chris scribbled over your tummy.

"THAT'S NOT FAIRHAHHAHHAHAH"!!!

"I think it is"

The terror duo continued to tickle you to pieces, working together to reduce you into a boneless giggling mess.

Chris suddenly blew a raspberry in your neck which tickled a hell of lot more because he had grown a beard for the movie.

You LOST it, wild cackles pouring from your lips until they turned into breathless hiccups laughs.

They let up and you sink into them, your face red but with a giant smile on your face.

"See, all you needed was some tickles. You look much cuter with such a beautiful smile then with such a grumpy face" Chris teased as he helped you sit up and lean against his chest.

You blushed brightly and hid your face in his neck which both he and Seb smiled at.

"Come on giggles, we still got some work to do but after that we'll have a mandatory movie night with the cast. We'll take over one of Downey's trailers" Seb chuckled before pulling you to your feet.

And just opened the door of the elevator with a click of the button.

"Wait! The elevator wasn't stuck at all!" You exclaimed as you stepped out.

"Of course it wasn't" Chris smirked before the duo walked off.

"Assholes" you grumble but with a smile before you also walk off to the into costume.

How you loved to be a part of the marvel cast.

#tickle fic #marvel tickle #lee!reader #ticklish!reader #bucky barnes #ler!chris #chris evans #ler!sebastian #Sebastian stan tickles #marvel cast tickle

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inneedofsupervision · 5 months ago

Text

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."

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