#atsv tickle fic

[amazingmsme]

Listen Here Punk!

AN: Day 2 comin' in hot! I didn't really intend to do 2 spiderverse fics in a row, but they fit the prompts. Been wanting to write something with Hobie & Miguel, & this idea just jumped out at me!

Miguel didn't necessarily mind sharing his lab space. He knew he had state of the art equipment, and quite frankly everyone wanted to get their hands on it. He'd never admit it in a million years, but he liked the quiet company of someone working nearby with the low hum of machinery droning on in the background.

But that's the thing: he liked quiet company. And Hobie was being anything but.

Hobie had asked him if he could use his 3-D printer while he was in the lunch line. He said sure and shooed him away, and he'd expected he'd be gone by the time he made it back to his office. Needless to say, it was wishful thinking.

Not only was he still there, but he had a damn boombox with him, and it was blaring heavy rock much too loud for his ears.

"Hey I'm back, could you turn it down?" he shouted as he walked in. Hobie looked right at him, and didn't turn it down, so he repeated himself. "Hey, could you turn it down?"

Much to his dismay, Hobie locked their gazes and cranked the volume up.

Miguel glared and marched over, turning the volume so low it was barely audible. Just as he made it back to his desk, the music blared so loud it made him jump.

He whipped around and noticed the way Hobie was hunched over his project sporting a sly smirk.

"Hobie, this isn't funny. I'm asking nicely, please turn off the music," he said, a final warning.

"See, an' I'm trynna give you a better taste in music," he quipped, snickering to himself quietly. If it weren't for Miguel's superhuman hearing, he probably wouldn't have heard it over the deep bass coming through the speakers.

"I'd like it a hell of a lot better if you turned it down!" he yelled, voice barely raising above the music.

"Well that's no way to listen to this kinda music, bruv," he teased, turning the volume dial up even more.

That seemed to be the last straw, because Miguel snapped. He slammed his hand on the boombox and turned it off before setting his sights on Hobie, who was trying hard to play it cool.

"We all know cats land on their feet, let's see if it's he same for spiders, eh?" he asked, walking him closer to the edge of the platform. It was only 15 feet off the ground, so he really wasn't worried about actually hurting him.

"Wait a minute, I was just jokin'!" he tried justifying his behavior, but it was too late. Miguel grabbed him under his arms, hoisting him in the air as he was about to chuck him off. But then he started giggling.

"P-put mehehe dohohown!" he pleaded, legs kicking frantically. His outline grew more sketchy and erratic, his colors more vibrant. Miguel was in such shock, that he did just that... But he didn't let him go. Something Hobie realized with growing fear.

A giddy, terrified grin played at his lips as he clamped his arms to his sides, keeping Miguel's hands trapped in his pits. His own hands were clutching Miguel's forearms for dear life.

"You don't have to do this mate," he pleaded, though excitement glimmered in his eyes.

Miguel clicked his tongue, cocking his head to the side. "I kinda do though. You deliberately went against me, then tried to play it off as a joke-"

"It was a joke!"

"Don't interrupt me," he said sternly, wiggling his fingers in warning. It sent him sputtering, doubling over in his grasp as he tried to fight off the mirth that was building up in his chest. "It's rude. Just like turning up the volume after being asked politely to turn it down," he said sternly, though Hobie could've sworn he saw a fleeting smile.

"Ihihi'm sohohorry!" he caved rather quickly, having heard the rumors of how ruthless Miguel could be.

"Thanks, but I really don't believe you. I mean, you're laughing through your apology! That seems far from sincere to me," he taunted, drilling his thumbs in the center of his pits, making him scream.

"Ihihit's literally your fahahahault!" he cried, stomping his feet as he tried to run out of his grip, with no payoff. His feet simply scraped against the floor as he stayed put.

"Wooow, I didn't expect you to be one to victim blame," he teased.

"I'm the bloody victim here!" Hobie yelped, squirming around in Miguel's hold. "L-lehehet me gohoho!"

"Hmm, I don't know if I should," he wondered aloud, drumming his fingers down his ribs. Hobie doubled over, hugging his arms to his chest as deep belly laughs and sporadic snorts filled the air. "I mean, do you really deserve mercy after that little stunt?" Miguel added, not even bothering to hide his smirk anymore.

"Yehehes Ihihi do!" he insisted, having to lean against Miguel for support as his knees buckled.

He chuckled and shook his head, releasing him from his hold. "Fine. But next time, just listen to me punk. It'll save us both the head ache," he said, giving him a pat on the back as he walked over to his monitors.

"Yeah right, you totally enjoyed that. Smug ass," Hobie quipped, having regained his breath fairly quickly. Miguel looked at him from over his shoulder, arching a brow.

"You want me to actually throw you off?" he threatened in warning.

"Nah I'm leavin' 'm leavin'," he mumbled, stepping off the edge, letting himself fall for a few seconds before shooting a web to catch himself.

Hobie ended up forgetting his boombox. When he remembered a few hours later, he was more than amused to find Miguel, working while listening to music. The same music he had complained about earlier.

"That's funny, thought you didn't like it," he quipped, making his presence known as he walked up from behind. Miguel didn't even flinch.

"Never said I didn't like it. Just asked you to turn it down."

[lokust]

Literally anything with lee!miguel orz

I’m especially fond of the miguel/peter b/mj poly dynamic but I’d happily take anything lolol

There was something up with Miguel. Something just... not quite right, and everyone closest to him had noticed it. Hobie and Noir gossiped about his attitude, while Gwen interrogated Lyla in an attempt to get to the bottom of it. Miles minded his own business, but Pavitr and Jess went to Miguel himself to question it.

Miguel was irritable- more so than usual, and he was really, really jumpy. Every little noise, every accidental touch, made him flinch or jerk away as if he was expecting something to happen, but nobody had any idea what.

He was also incredibly snappy- again... more so than usual. Every inquiry about his mental state or general unusual behavior was met with a snarky remark or a near-deadly glare. Everyone had caught attitude from Miguel throughout the day. Well, almost everyone. Everyone but Peter B.

It was no secret that Miguel had something going on with Peter and MJ. What little free time he had was spent in their universe, and the kids had caught glimpses of heart emojis and sweet messages from both Peter and MJ on Miguel's phone, but nobody ever dared say a word about it.

It was unusual for Miguel to spare Peter from his general grumpiness. For some reason, though, Miguel seemed to be an absolute mess anytime Peter was in the room. It was like he couldn't keep his eyes off of Peter, staring at him from across the room and blushing like mad. Even something as simple as the sound of the older spider's voice had Miguel a blushing, stammering mess, but all he could do was hope nobody had noticed, especially Peter.

They had all noticed, especially Peter.

Peter knew exactly what the problem was, and he was not helping.

Every time they were in the same room, Peter sneaked "accidental" touches to Miguel's sides or back. He made it a point to let Miguel know that he noticed the staring. He stared back, smirking while drumming and tapping his fingers against whatever surface he could find. He wanted Miguel to know that he knew.

Miguel was, in fact, in a lee mood. The worst lee mood he'd ever been in.

Miguel finally realized that the only way he'd get through the day without turning into pure mush was by avoiding Peter at all costs. So that was what he did. If Peter was going one way, Miguel went the other; if Miguel noticed their paths crossing, he made a beeline for the bathroom or the closest supply closet; if he walked into a room that Peter just so happened to be in, he immediately walked out in a flustered, frustrated frenzy.

But, of course, Peter noticed. For the last time that day, Miguel had found himself inside a supply closet, peeking out of it for just a moment to make sure Peter wasn't following him, and he let out a sigh of relief as he realized Peter was nowhere in sight and had probably gotten lost in the crowd.

He shut and locked the door, allowing himself a moment to relax. He closed his eyes, resting against the wall as he took deep breaths. He tried his hardest to calm himself down and get rid of the embarrassing blush that covered his entire face and traveled all the way to the tips of his ears.

He sighed once more before taking a deep breath, "Come on, Miguel. Keep it together…”, he said to himself before pushing himself off the wall and opening the door, peaking out one last time before deciding it was safe.

Unfortunately, just as he opened the door, he heard the unmistakable ‘thwip’ of a web shooter, and the door was shut again, white webs covering the knob. Miguel's eyes widened as he stood completely still, blood rushing to his cheeks as his heart started beating nearly out of his chest.

"Turn around”, said the voice behind him, and slowly, Miguel turned around.

There he was, Peter B. Parker, hanging upside down from a web with that goofy smirk. Miguel looked up and mentally kicked himself as he noticed the open vent in the ceiling.

Miguel opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, to try to explain the situation away, but Peter beat him to it, "It’s been awfully hard for me to catch up to you today, Miguel~”, he sing-songed, looking around the small room as he did so “That’s alright, though! I enjoyed our little game of Cat and Mouse”, Peter said before dropping from his web and inching closer to the adorably flustered spider in front of him. "Care to explain why exactly we were playing?", he asked, his voice dropping slightly as he raised one eyebrow.

Peter loved this: toying with Miguel and watching the usually stoic spider crumble into a bashful mess. Even more than watching it happen, he loved knowing that he was the reason.

Miguel's throat went dry as he looked for an explanation, stammering over the beginning of his sentence, “I-I, uh, I don't- I have.. n-no idea what you're talking about. I was just- I came in here to-“

"To hide from me?", Peter teased, stepping even closer to Miguel. Miguel had backed up against the door, his chest nearly against Peter's. "You can't hide from me forever~", he said, placing his hand on Miguel's side and gently drumming his fingers.

Miguel swallowed nervously, his eyes widening as he looked down at Peter's hand and then back up at Peter. He tensed his muscles and bit his lip, preparing himself for the inevitable, but... nothing ever came.

They stood just like that, in total silence, for about half a minute, That teasing smirk never leaving Peter’s face, and Peter’s gaze never leaving Miguel.

Thirty seconds had never felt longer, and Miguel thought surely he would combust as his eyes darted nervously around the small room before finally landing on Peter again. Peter chuckled and rolled his eyes fondly, deciding to give Miguel a break. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna get you”, he said, ruffling Miguel's hair as the younger sighed in relief, “Not yet anyways."

Miguel's eyes widened again as he looked at Peter. That was just cruel. To get him all worked up for it.. and then take it away.

“That was a fun game, my little Spider-Mouse!” Peter said with a giddy laugh, patting Miguel’s cheek gently, "We'll deal with you later. See ya at home, my love!", he said happily before turning around, flicking his wrist at the open vent and hoisting himself back into it, but before he could leave, he was interrupted as Miguel uttered just one word.

“We?”, he repeated, his heart rate increasing as he looked at Peter incredulously. Peter giggled as he peered down at Miguel, nodding and bringing his phone into view, the screen facing Miguel.

“Oh, did I forget to mention that?”, he asked, still smiling from ear to ear, “I texted MJ! Had to let her know about your current condition.”, and sure enough, Miguel caught a glimpse of the few messages Peter had sent MJ over the course of the day.

Peter smiled triumphantly as he saw the look of realization cross Miguel’s face, and he quickly tucked his phone back into his pocket. “Now, I’ll leave you to sit with that information for as long as you need, buddy! I’ll see ya at home- er, we’ll see you at home! Love ya!”, and with that, Peter was gone.

As Miguel stood there in utter disbelief, he finally snapped out of his flustered trance, allowing himself to sink down against the wall and bury his head in hands.

'This is gonna be a long day...'

It was a long day, and Lyla had to pull him out of a smiley daze more times than he’d like to admit. He just couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop himself from imagining the trouble he’d be in when he got to Peter’s place, the way they’d tickle him to pieces, expertly targeting each and every little tickle spot, how they’d tease him…

He couldn’t wait for the end of the day, when he’d finally be able to leave, but once the time finally rolled around, he found himself too nervous to even leave his office.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”, Lyla said as she suddenly appeared, projecting on his desk.

Miguel jumped and hissed at the sudden noise, blushing when he realized it was just Lyla. He cleared his throat awkwardly and sat up straight in his chair, furrowing his eyebrows, “W-What are you talking about?”, he asked, trying to be inconspicuous.

Lyla quirked an eyebrow, propping her hand on her hip and tilting her head, “You really gonna make me text him and tell him to come get you? Is that what you want?”, she asked, not even a hint of a joke in her tone.

Miguel huffed, taken aback by Lyla’s threat as he stared at her with furrowed brows. With a few incoherent grumbles, Miguel stood, still glaring daggers at Lyla. Using his watch, he opened a portal directly to Peter’s house.

His hands shook nervously as he felt his face already heating up. He tried to contain the bashful grin tugging at his lips, but it was no use as he stood in front of the portal. He knew what awaited him on the other side. He knew there was no avoiding it. For a minute or so, Miguel simply stood there, taking deep steady breaths and trying to calm his shaking before finally letting out one heavy sigh… and stepping through the portal.

He was tense as he stood in Peter and MJ’s kitchen, looking around the dimly lit room nervously. He saw the glow of the TV from the living room, and he could smell something sweet- like cookies baking. He took a deep breath as he slowly entered the den from the kitchen, but as he rounded the corner into the den, MJ rounded the corner as well, bumping right into Miguel.

She yelped a bit as she was unaware of his arrival, but as she looked up and saw Miguel’s blushing face, her look of surprise turned to a sweet smile, “Hi there, sweetie”, she spoke softly, her tone loving as she leaned up and kissed Miguel’s cheek, “I’m gonna take these cookies out of the oven”, she said, putting on an oven mitt that had little flower patterns all over it, “I went ahead and made you a treat for… well, after”.

Miguel’s breath hitched in his throat and he buried his face in his hands, but before he could worry himself too much with it, he heard a much louder playful voice from behind him.

“Well, honey, would you like who finally showed up!”, Peter exclaimed, picking up a cookie before hissing in pain and immediately putting it back down, “Oh wow those are hot! Hey, Miguel, we had some matters to attend, right? I think we did!”, Peter spoke quickly, a happy smile on his face as he grabbed Miguel’s wrist and immediately turned on his heels, leading Miguel through the house. “Let’s go, MJ!”

MJ stood with her arms crossed, a slight smirk on her face as she watched Peter all but drag Miguel as the younger spider turned to look at her with wide eyes that were begging for help already. She just chuckled, shaking her head and following after them fondly.

Peter opened their bedroom door and playfully pushed Miguel onto the soft mattress, laying down next to him with one of Miguel’s arms underneath him. Peter smiled at Miguel and ran a hand through his hair, “And look MJ! He must’ve gotten into these clothes before he got here. I always wondered how changing out of a holographic suit worked…”, he said, furrowing his brows a bit in thought. “The tank top’s very subtle though, certainly doesn’t make your intentions too obvious. Very inconspicuous!”. Miguel was practically scowling, but the unusual bright red color of his cheeks certainly decreased the intimidation of it.

MJ couldn’t help but laugh at the two boys as she too laid down beside Miguel and did the same as Peter, pinning one of Miguel’s arms beneath her. Miguel just huffed, his face scrunching up a bit as he turned his neck to look at MJ instead of Peter. MJ raised her eyebrows as she placed a hand on his side, gently tracing her nails up and down, “Oh, do you think I’m gonna save you from him, hun?”, she asked, leaning in a bit closer and dropping her voice to a whisper. “Not a chance, sweetheart”.

Miguel squealed and tugged at his arms a bit as MJ’s nails traveled up to his armpit, and he also wondered what on earth was going through his head when he decided to wear the tank top. Spoiler: it was this exact situation. She spidered her nails slowly and oh so lightly under his arm, watching intently as he let his head fall back against the pillow and bit his lip in an attempt to keep himself from giggling.

Peter chuckled and shook his head, “Holding out on her, hm?”, he asked teasingly as he lifted Miguel’s shirt up above his ribs. “Why don’t you see just how long that works for ya! I’ll bet twenty seconds tops.” Peter placed his hand on the very center of Miguel’s tummy and formed a claw with it. “If you win the bet, we’ll stop teasing. Deal?”

Miguel looked at Peter with wide eyes and shook his head frantically as he realized Peter’s intentions, twisting his hips in an attempt to get away from the hand on his tummy.

“Deal!” Peter said on Miguel’s behalf. “Twenty seconds starting… now!” Suddenly, Peter began digging and clawing all five fingers rapidly into Miguel’s belly, wasting no time in driving him up the wall.

Miguel let out a strained squeal and arched his back, biting his tongue to keep himself from laughing, but there just wasn’t much he could do. Within seconds, he was a blubbering mess, “NNGH! Peheheter! Peter, that’s no f-FAHAHAIR! I cahAN’T!”.

Peter cooed in mock sympathy, moving his hand a bit lower to assault Miguel’s much more ticklish lower belly. He tickled from side to side, clawing from one hip to the other over and over again, “Aww, well, that was only about two seconds. Did you misunderstand the premise of the bet?”, he asked in feigned curiosity, looking over Miguel at MJ. “Should I have been more specific?”, he asked, rapidly squeezing the little bit of pudge at Miguel’s lower tummy.

MJ chortled, shaking her head at her husband as her nails fluttered and danced oh so gently in the center of Miguel’s hollows- a total contrast to the rough tickling Peter was putting his tummy through, but the light flutters gradually became light, quick scratches, “Are you enjoying yourself?”, she asked in that soft, sweet tone. “Is this what you wanted? To come home and let us tickle all your worries away?”.

Miguel shook his head at MJ’s teasing, but his entire body tensed as he let out a squeal, Peter’s hand suddenly jumping from his hip to his armpit. Miguel arched his back as the two opposing sensations persisted: MJ’s light scratching and spidering, and Peter’s rough digging and clawing both assaulting his pits. “W-WAHAIT WAIT!”, he choked out, his face red as tears of mirth pricked at the corners of his eyes, “CAHAN’T- cahan’t tahaHAKE IT!”. He kicked his feet, clenching and unclenching his fists in hopes that it would distract from the tickling, but it was no use.

“Look at those fangs!” Peter said excitedly, “Who knew deadly weapons could be so adorable, am I right?”, he teased as his hand traveled down just a bit, squeezing and pinching at Miguel’s very top rib. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He tugged at his arms and twisted his hips, but it was all fruitless.

“Aww, Peter..”, MJ said as she slipped her hand into his tank top, raking her long nails up and down the side of his rib cage, “He said he can’t take it~”, she cooed, kneading her fingertips into the spaces between the bones.

Miguel’s laughter raised in pitch and volume, and there was nothing he could do to ease the maddening sensation. If he twisted his body to the right, he only brought himself closer to MJ’s long nails, but if he twisted himself to the left, Peter was right there, cooing about how he must love it since he’s trying to get closer.

As evil as they seemed to be, both MJ and Peter were in absolute awe as they teased and toyed with the man below them, admiring his blushing face and adorable giggles. Miguel squealed, his eyes shut tight as he squirmed. The two of them looked up at each other, both smiling as they gave a silent acknowledgment of their adoration for Miguel.

“Cant take it, hm?” Peter asked, tweaking up and down Miguel’s rib cage, vibrating a clawed hand into it after delivering a couple teasing pinches and pokes. “What about this? Is this any better for you?”, he asked, knowing damn well he’d just made it ten times worse.

Miguel’s eyes shot open at the sudden sensation of five fingers vibrating against the front of his rib cage while MJ’s nails danced up and down the side of his ribs. He couldn’t take it. “NAHAHA! STOPSTOPSTOHOHOP! MJ, HEHEHELP! M-Mahahake him stOHOP!”, he pleaded, tugging desperately at his arms. He needed to get away, but he couldn’t, and he really didn’t want to, but he thought certainly they’d tickle him to tears. He tried to take a deep breath through his loud belly laughter in an attempt to ease the sensation as he thought there was certainly no way it could get any more ticklish.

Oh, how wrong he was.

MJ giggled and shook her head, kissing his cheek, “You know I can’t do that, sweetie. You waited all day for this, why would I stop him now?”, she asked, only half teasing him. He had waited all day, and they were definitely making up for it, but suddenly, MJ’s nails latched onto his lowest rib, and a loud hiss sounded through the room in unison with a couple yelps as Miguel’s loud laughter turned to frantic giggles. It took him a moment to realize the tickling had stopped, his two partners looking down at him with wide eyes and smug grins. As he calmed down, he looked up at them, still giggling a bit, “W-Whahat is it?”, he asked, his face flushed red as he looked between the two of them.

MJ giggled, tilting her head as she spoke, “You hissed at us!”, she said, playfully feigning anger. Miguel’s eyes widened, realization hitting him like a train as he hurried to apologize, but he couldn’t get the words out before Peter was chiming in.

“That you did! And not to mention..”, Peter sat up, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding down at Miguel’s hand, “You stabbed us! Stabbed us both right in the back! What do you have to say for yourself, mister?”, he asked with a pout. It was clear neither of them were actually upset with him, but that didn’t stop him from feeling tremendously guilty.

Miguel gasped as he looked at his own hand, his claws now fully on display. He pulled his now free hand to his side, doing the same with the other as MJ sat up as well, “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”, he said, stammering over his apology as he hurried to get it out, “Did I hurt you guys? Are either of you bleeding? I really didn’t mean to, I promise! I just- it.. it-”, Miguel trailed off, unable to finish his sentence as he looked down at his hands.

“It tickled?”, MJ offered, smiling at him as she slipped her hand under his shirt, scratching gently up and down his back. He shivered a bit at the feeling of her long nails against his back, but thankfully, her touch was firm enough not to send him into a giggling fit. He really was too ticklish for his own good.

He blushed, curling in on himself and hiding his face in his hands. They knew there was no way he’d answer that, but thankfully, Peter answered for him, “It did! Like crazy probably, but he’s Spiderman”, he said with a wave of his hand. “I’m sure it was no problem for him at all!”

Miguel whined, shooting a glare at Peter before suddenly finding himself pinned down again. This time by webs that trapped his wrist against the headboard. He felt the familiar flutter in his tummy as he tugged at his wrists, “Hey! What are you doing? I-I thought we were done!”

Peter just laughed, tilting his head in confusion, “You thought we were done? Oh no! We were just getting started!”, he said as he and MJ both repositioned. Peter straddled Miguel’s hips, smiling down at him innocently while lifting his shirt up. MJ sat on his shins, facing Peter’s back. “And after all, you did scratch us… On purpose or not, I think that’s worthy of a punishment. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Miguel’s eyes widened as it struck him why they had pinned him in the way that they did, and he shook his head, “N-No! It was an accident, I couldn’t control it!”, he said, huffing a bit and glaring at Peter. “If anything, it was your fault that you got scratched!”

MJ tutted as she suddenly dragged her nails down his thighs. He absolutely should not have worn shorts. “That’s a shame… this could’ve been so much easier on you if you’d just taken responsibility..”.

Before he could protest any further, Peter’s hands were clawed and poised above his tummy, fingers wiggling as those hands got closer and closer, while MJ continued to drag and scrape her nails up and down every muscle and curve of his thighs.

“Remind me, my tickly little spider. Your worst spots are your belly, and your thighs, right?”, Peter asked, a small innocent smile tugging at his lips. Miguel couldn’t even try to conceal his nervous smile, and there was no point in trying to suppress his anticipatory giggles.

Peter’s hands were so close, Miguel swore he could already feel them.

“You ready, Miguel?”

________________

Ummm I GOT A LITTLE CARRIED AWAY SO… THERE’S GONNA BE A PART TWO HSBSHSKL

@tickles-tea I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS BECAUSE I PUT MY WHOLE HEART IN IT😭

[gigglz]

Sneaky

Ler!Hobie

Lee!Miles

(Strictly PLATONIC!! This is a tickle fic.)

Quick, short fic. I LOVE THEM AAAAH

Miles was told he had to train his stealth a bit, kindly saying he wasn't good at it… at all.

His goal according to Peter B. Parker was to successfully scare at least 5 people. Gwen, Pavitr, Peter B. Parker himself, which would be harder considering he was the one giving him the task, Hobie and Jessica. Miles had already scared 3. Gwen, Pavitr, and Jessica. Even for only 3 people it took around 7 tries, since they were all spiderpeople.

He thought for a second. “Hmm. Maybe i should go for Peter next, but then again that would take the longest. I should probably go for the one that doesn’t know what im doing. Hobie. Yeah! Easy enough.”

He spent a good half an hour trying to find him. Turns out he was in some sort of lab… stealing? Of course.

He crawled on the ceiling, invisible of course. Being extra careful to not make a sound.

Hobie was looking around the lab for random parts he could easily fit in his pockets, humming some tune.

Miles was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“How long ya gonna wait for?” Hobie suddenly spoke, startling Miles.

Miles wasn’t sure he was talking to him, so he stayed quiet.

“Aye, Miles. Im talking to ya.” Hobie chuckled and looked up, straight at Miles.

“Aw, man…” Miles let out a sigh and jumped down. “How did you know i was there?”

Hobie looked at him. “I knew the moment you arrived, you’re not very good at being sneaky ya know.”

Miles let out a groan. “Yeah…“

“Aye cheer up, bruv. No need to be down in the dumps about it.” Hobie smiled.

Miles looked at him confused “what?”

“Anyways what’re ya trying to do?” Hobie asked while putting something in his pocket again.

“Oh its just- wait, no. Im not gonna tell you.” Miles almost slipped up, it would be so much harder to do if Hobie knew.

“Awe c’mon tell me.” Hobie tapped his shoulder with his fist playfully. “Is it top secret?” He joked.

“Yes, yes it is!” Miles exclaimed.

“Well now i want to know even more, c’mon Miles, were mates! You can tell me.” Hobie leaned against a table, now very eager to know.

“No, no. Not telling you, sorry!” Miles turned to walk away, cause he knew he was eventually gonna tell him if he stayed.

“So ya wanna play like that, do ya? Alright.” Hobie shrugged getting up from the table, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“What does that mean?” Miles stopped, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Oh nothin’… unless you wanna tell me?” Hobie grinned.

“Wha- no. No way, forget it!” Miles waved his hands at him.

“Alright, alright. Go then. Didn’t wanna know anyway.” Hobie turned away, walking back to the table.

Miles sighed, “thank god.” He started walking to the door, he was gonna try again a bit later.

But before he could leave Hobie spoke up, somehow right behind him. “This is how ya sneak up on people.”

Suddenly Miles felt two hands on his sides. “waitwaitWAIT HOBIE- ACK!” Hobie started wiggling his fingers into the younger boys sides.

“Ya wanna tell me now?” Hobie laughed mischievously.

“nohoho AHAH HOBIEHEHE!” Miles yelped as Hobie switched to tickling his ribs. His legs buckled and he fell to the floor, Hobie catching him.

“Woah, mate. Ticklish much?” Hobie put him on the floor, and switched to his sides again to prevent Miles from getting used to the feeling. “Y’know I can keep this up for as long as i need.” Hobie teased.

“Ehehehe Hobihie nahahAHAH” Miles squirmed, weakly trying to fight him back. “STAHAHAP NAHAHAAA”

“So ya wanna tell me yet? Or do i need to keep going?” Hobie chuckled with miles.

“ihim nohohot telling yohoHOU NOHOO” Miles threw his head back and kicked his feet.

“Well if you insist, I’m having fun so i dont plan on stopping any time soon. Hey, yer hips ticklish?” Hobie didnt wait for an asnwer and went for his hips.

Miles SCREAMED. “NAHAA OHO MAHAHAI GAHAHAD HOBIHIE NOHOOH AGHAHA” Miles bucked and shook his head frantically. Trying to pry Hobies hands off of his hips.

“I guess they are, dont try to fight me, only way ill stop is if you tell me!” He pressed his hands into Miles’ hips a little stronger, laughing with him.

“OHOKAY OKAHAHAY JUST STOHOHAHAHA-“ Miles could barely speak, it tickled so bad.

As promised Hobie stopped as soon as Miles told him to. “Alright, spill it. Unless you want to go for round 2? I wouldn’t mind.” He smirked.

“im good, ihim gohohood.” Miles was still giggling.

“So?” Hobie looked at him intrigued.

“Ihits just some stupid task Peter gave me, apparently im not stealthy enough. So i have to scare 5 people, you were one of them.” Miles held his sides, trying to get rid of the ghost tickles.

“Ohoh! So thats what it is! I have to agree with Parker here.” He chuckled.

Miles groaned, he knew Hobie was right.

“Better luck next time, bruv! Just watch your back. Maybe ill be the one sneaking up on you, aye?” He teased Miles as he helped him up to his feet.

Miles chuckled, a little embarrassed.

“Alright, alright. I will.” Miles said as he wiped his shoulder to get a little dust off of it.

“I suggest catching them in an environment where its not so silent, like here.” Hobie pointed around the lab.

“Ah, yeah. You're right.” Miles chuckled.

“Alright go, get Peter first, then come back to me. Always stay alert.” Hobie wiggled his fingers at Miles, chuckling.

Miles cringed a little, shook his head and turned to leave, yeah, no he definitely was gonna go for Peter next.

[gaybananabread]

••@hexalianrebel-blackfeathers - I'm thinking #4 (Hide and Seek) with either Miguel or Doc Ock as the ler and our favorite Spider-Gang as lees.••

TickleTober Day 4 - Hide and Seek

~Okay, I’ve been so excited to write this one! I need to show the Ocks some more love, and I absolutely adore these two! This is stupidly long. I have no regrets. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lees: Miles, Pavitr, Gwen, Hobie

Lers: Otto Octavious (Alfred Molina), Olivia Octavious

Summary: When stranded in another alternate dimension, Otto is recruited by an unexpected variant of himself. Things get complicated when the Spider-Gang tries to stop their heist. Finding a heart, Otto offers an ulterior method to win against their young adversaries.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Otto's life had been…well, interesting was a word for it. Just when he thought he was done being tossed from universe to universe, a random portal opened and yoinked him out of the current wrong dimension, leaving him lost once again.

The new world seemed…animated, in a sense. Otto definitely didn't fit the style, what with everyone’s 3D animationesque appearances. There was no way he could get around without being recognized as an anomaly, but he couldn’t very well stay where he was…

Before he could slip further into his thoughts, a small band bounced off his head and fell into an open robotic tentacle; he didn’t know it, but it was a Spider Society day pass. A woman’s voice called from above him, sounding eerily smug and conniving.

“Come with me, Octavious 96283. We have some pests to exterminate.”

-

“So…you built all of this alone? Without funding?” Otto looked around the small lab, wondering how on Earth the woman managed to construct such high-tech equipment by herself. It was in an abandoned office building, sure, but it was still a solid facility.

“Yes. It was a hindrance to use purely damaged technology and scrapped fragments from Alchemax sites, but I think I’ve created an adequate workspace.”

Otto would hardly stop at “adequate” to describe the place. There were monitors, a small dissection area, multiple glass test tubes with various liquids, and a research station; it’s a lab his teenage self would undoubtedly be envious of.

“You mentioned pests?” He tried to steer the conversation in a more manageable direction; maybe she’d help him get home if he fed into her plot.

“I did, yes. There have been more and more of these spider pests popping up since the creation of their little Society. After their mistake ruined my research, I figured I’d refocus my efforts on eliminating them all together, starting with unlocking the mechanics of their interdimensional travel.”

Olivia didn’t stop for a single second, flitting around her lab while she spoke. “I need your help with acquiring a few parts for my newest portal prototype. Just a simple heist, nothing too flashy.”

-

He should’ve known that was bullshit.

I mean, who actually told the truth when they said “just a simple” anything? Running through the bustling, animated city with thousands of dollars of technological advances in his arms. Olivia was a version of him, after all; he never told anyone the entirety of his plans.

Things went from bad to worse when he heard the tell-tale sound of web shooters firing.

“Damn those brats!” Olivia’s hiss put him more on edge than the possibility of being arrested. The spider he was most recently with was quite nice and empathetic, but he wasn’t sure how this universe’s protector carried themselves. Wait…did she say brats, plural?

“Drop the tech, tentacle heads!” A younger-sounding voice called out right before a ball of web fluid came flying at Otto’s face. He used a tentacle to catch it, but the mechanics of the triceps were immediately clogged.

The man got a closer look as the boy – probably, he wasn’t sure – approached: black suit, red details, thin frame, wide eye mask. Yeah, that kid definitely wasn’t old enough to be risking his life like that.

To his surprise, three more costumed teens – again, not a known fact, but they definitely seemed young – backed the black-clad spider up. The varying styles shocked him: ornate reds and blues, black and white with pops of color, and all-out punk outfit with the classic colors beneath. Yeah, they were definitely from different dimensions.

Olivia, on the other hand, sprang into action. She snapped a few lines of web that were shot her way, obviously used to fending off all four of them at once. Otto couldn’t help but wince as the ornate teen was whacked into the brick alley wall by one of her tentacles.

The one in white called out and ran to him – he assumed she was a girl, given her costume and intonation – while the punk charged Olivia. Otto was playing defense against the boy in black and red, trying not to hurt him.

While the man was putting up a pretty good fight, the black-and-red Spider-Man still managed to grab his duffle bag of stolen tech. Olivia started to shout at him to get it back before a small web smacked her in the face, covering her mouth. That enraged the woman to a new extent he hadn’t thought possible.

A lot of things fell into place for the man when Olivia lobbed a steel trash can at the lanky punk; they were fighting children, or at most very young adults.The rage in the woman’s eyes… Yeah, no.

Were the teens trying to arrest them and foil Olivia’s plan? Yes. Did that stop Otto from caring that they were probably minors who definitely shouldn’t be taking that many hard hits? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

Otto reached for the bag, hoping to get it away from the boy so they could just retreat. One of his tentacle claws managed to grab the boy's side, meaning to hold him still; what he hadn’t expected, however, was the boyish squeal that ripped from the black-clad spider’s throat.

In the midst of Otto’s surprise, the teen managed to slip out of the mechanical grip and…disappear? An invisibility power would have been incredibly helpful for the boy – that is, if the duffle he was carrying wasn’t still visible.

God, these kids need some proper training…

Despite his associate’s murderous rage, the punk seemed to have grabbed Olivia’s duffle as well. Behind him, Otto caught a glimpse of the ornate boy and white-clad spiders zipping up to a rooftop. Sensing that they were fighting a losing battle, the other two followed them up, duffles in hand.

“Damn it! I need those parts, or all of this will have been for nothing!” Olivia moved to charge after them, but the man held out a mechanical arm to stop her; her fiery glare was hard to ignore, but he did his best.

“Wait. I know they’ve been pains in the asses, but we can’t… Is there really a reason to truly harm them? You have to know that they’re hardly old enough to even consider doing what they do.” Otto spoke from his heart, hoping at least a fraction of his words would hit something human within the woman.

“What do you suggest we do then? Let them get away with hours of careful preparations and the keys to my plans?”

“I have a better idea. One that involves less…aggressive tactics. You’ll still get your revenge, of course.”

Olivia quirked a brow, eyes still trained on the rooftop the young heroes fled towards. The anger was still burning on her features, but a slight tweak of contemplation tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I’m listening, 96283. Make it fast.”

-

Welp, Miles was dead. Or rather, he was going to be dead very, very soon.

One Doc Ock was already hard enough to handle, but two? Even with his fellow spiders’ help, the teen doubted they’d be able to do much against the two forces. Retreat was one of their only smart options, but he could hear the thudding of mechanical claws behind him. The duffle bag in his arms seemed to weigh more by the second, burning with the knowledge that they’d be on his tail until he either forked it over or somehow managed to find enough time to portal out.

His friends scattered around him, fanning out in their practiced formation. They’d meet up behind a small bakery before portaling back to the Society. Unfortunately for Miles, that meant he had to find a way there by himself.

As Miles swung by an alley opening, a robotic tentacle shot out at him from the darkness. He managed to keep the duffle bag out of its grip, but the four synthetic claws closed around his chest in its tight grasp.

“GYAH- get off!” Miles’s heart sank as he watched the owner of the tentacle emerge, her cold eyes gleaming behind iridescent green lenses.

“Hello, little spider. I believe you have something of mine~” Olivia grabbed the duffle with her other tentacles, but Miles held strong; he did have super strength, after all.

“Fine. I’ll get that bag one way or another, you pest.”

Before he could wonder what kind of painful torture he’d endure, Miles felt the synthetic claws dig into his stomach. Caught off guard, he couldn’t help the giggly squeak that escaped him.

“GYEEhehe! Wh-whahahat?!” Miles wriggled and squirmed in the tentacle’s grip, the lenses on his mask wide and confused. It was almost cute, though Liv shoved that thought as far back in her mind as it would go; weakness wasn’t going to get her that tech.

“What? It’s pretty obvious: give me the bag, or I make this a lot worse for you. I don’t have anywhere to be, sweetie~” Liv teased him as she worked, trying to tug the bag out of his iron-like grip. She could’ve just ripped the bottom and taken the parts…but where’s the fun in that?

“D-dohohon’t cahall me thahahat!” Beneath his mask, Miles’s cheeks warmed with red. She was just trying to kill him a moment ago; why’d she switch to doing that?! He didn’t really want her trying to kill him either, but it was an insane jump!

“Thihis ihis stuhuhuhupid!”

“On the contrary, Spider-Man, I’d say this is quite informative. I get to learn all of your weak points in just a few minutes; I’d hardly call that stupid.”

As if to prove her point, Olivia dragged two of her free claws up the red marking on his suit, stopping right below his underarms. The shrill squeal the action received was utterly adorable.

Ugh, Otto got to me, didn’t he?

“NOHOHohohooo! Lehemme gohoho!” The teen clamped his arms to his sides, still somehow managing to hold on to the duffle. He was starting to wonder if it was even worth it… No, it was; the parts still needed to be returned, even if it meant sacrificing his dignity.

“As soon as you let go of my technology, Spider-Brat.” Okay, enough games; Liv wanted that duffle bag. Forcing his arms above his head, she sent two tentacles to claw at his armpits.

Miles was not proud of the sounds he made after that.

“NAHAHAHAHA! NOHOT THEHEHERE!” Miles’s mind nearly went blank from the intense sensations shooting through his nervous system. He released his hold on the duffle bag, trying to slam his arms down.

Olivia snatched up the bag, stopping her assault to securely wrap her tentacles around it. Miles was sort-of gently put down, curling into a ball on the alleyway pavement. What the hell…?

“Was that so hard?” She dangled the bag in front of his face, taunting him. Miles tried to get back up, but he was utterly exhausted; the best he could do was shoot a web, which missed Liv by around two feet.

“As much as I’d love to rub this in, I have places to be. Try to stay out of my way, little spider~” With that, she used her tentacles to scale the side of the alleyway, taking off on the rooftops. She had an annoyingly truthful variant to find.

Miles wanted to go after the woman, but he was spent; it would’ve endangered both himself and his team if he tried fighting in that state. Shakily getting to his feet, Miles made his way to the bakery.

Hopefully the others would fare better than he did.

-

Otto almost felt bad for the spider kid he was holding. It had barely been a minute, but the guy was absolutely losing it, snorting and laughing so loudly that Otto wondered if the one he was trying to bait had gone deaf. Where was that punk?

“Stop it! Let him go, tentacle head!” Gwen shouted and squirmed in the metal tentacle’s grasp, trying to get to Pav. He wasn’t injured when he got thrown, but she still didn’t want him to be getting…tortured? She had no idea what the villain was trying to accomplish, but she wasn’t about to watch her friend struggle without a fight.

“Tentacle head? Really?” Otto smiled slightly, turning his focus on Gwen. Pav was still getting his stomach attacked, of course, but the claw on his neck left to go toy with her. “Here I thought you spiders were supposed to be funny.”

Gwen squirmed as she saw the tentacle coming towards her, but didn’t back down. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Pavitr’s stomach was just stupidly ticklish; she could tough it out until either Miles or Hobie arrived to help. Probably…

“N-NOHOHOHOT HEHER! PLEHEHEASE!” Pav did his best to try and save Gwen from his fate, but it really only made the older man chuckle. The kids were ridiculous; it was kind of adorable.

“Sorry kids, but your friend has something I need. Don’t worry; I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

With that, the claw began squeezing at Gwen’s sides, her laughter soon joining Pavitr’s in the alley. Otto severely doubted the punk had gone very far; he just needed the boy to take the bait.

He wasn’t disappointed.

“OI! Drop ‘em, ya big sashimi!” Hobie swung into the mix, the second duffle bag hanging securely off his back. He slammed his boots into the tentacle holding Pav, causing it to drop the tired boy onto the ground. He holds up a shaky thumb before being waved away by Hobie.

“You kids and your octopus jokes.” Otto chuckled, watching his hostage stumble to his feet and swing away. The trust the kids had in each other was sweet, albeit a little optimistic.

“H-HOHOHOBIE! WHEHERE’S MIHILES?” Gwen continued to try and escape the tickly tentacle, but it was a lot harder than it looked; those things were strong. Hobie couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. She’s being held hostage, and Miles is the thing she’s worried about?

“Ge’ your priorities straight, Gwendy!” Coming back around, Hobie fired off a barrage of webs, trying to jam the claws grabbing at him. It’s three against one, though; a claw managed to catch him by the wrist, yanking him up and into the air in front of Otto.

Hobie struggled in the tentacle’s grip as Gwen continued to laugh and kick at the one holding her. Otto knew his objective; he was just gonna goof off a bit before completing it.

“Now, I’m gonna need that duffle bag, kid.” Otto sent one of the tentacles out to try and grab the bag off his shoulders, but Hobie kicked at the biotech the moment it was in range. Fine by him; the hard way was so much more fun.

“Alright then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, kiddo.” With that, he stepped forwards, squeezing the boy’s sides. Hobie tried to punch him, but one of his free tentacles came to hold the teen’s other wrist.

Hobue refused to giggle at first, just kicking his feet and trying to escape. When Otto reached his underarms, however, that dam practically exploded.

“GEHEHE’ OHOHOFFA MEHEHE!” Hobie thrashed about in the claws’ hold, his cheeks quickly heating up. Damn it, why’d he have to be so ticklish?!

“Wow. I mean, I wasn’t expecting my plan to fail, but you kids really are ticklish. It’s kinda adorable.” Otto teased them, willing the claw on Gwen’s sides to take things a little easier; he was mainly focused on Hobie.

“Shuhut uhuhup!” Gwen’s squeaky voice rang out beside him as she struggled. While she was grateful for the slight reprieve, Otto was still a villain. She was gonna escape and haul his strangely non-violent ass back to whatever dimension he came from.

It was at that inconvenient moment that Liv found Otto. I mean, it wasn’t hard; the sound of Hobie’s laughter and Gwen’s squeaks could be heard for at least half a mile.

“Seriously, 96283? Just keep him still.” Rolling her eyes, she went behind the squirmy teen and unbuckled the strap on the bag. It easily slipped off his back, falling straight into Liv’s arms. “Don’t mess around for too long. Those little menaces multiply.”

With that, she left Otto to his devices, getting away with the stolen goods. Hobie groaned, struggling against the claws to try and follow her. That struggle quickly changed focus when one of the wiggling claws moved behind his knees. He snorted, nose scrunching as a red hue burned on his face.

Okay, that was embarrassing. For once, he hoped Miles and Pav disregarded team protocol; they could really use some back-up.

Thankfully, those two could almost never listen.

A chunk of rubble slammed into the tentacle holding Gwen, causing it to reel back and drop her. A flash of red and blue scooped her up before she could hit the concrete.

Before Otto can react, a web ball smacks him in the face. He stumbles, the tentacles holding Hobie dropping him in favor of protecting their master. A black streak catches the tall teen, setting him down a safe distance away.

“T-toohok you lohohong enouhuhugh!” Hobie shouted after the other teen, struggling to recover from his rather silly predicament. Miles just stuck his tongue out at him before whirling on Otto.

Once Gwen was set safely aside to recover, Pavitr got back into the fray. He used his bangles and webs to sling-shot himself at the man, catching him in the chest and knocking him off balance. Miles followed suit, weaving around the tentacles to try and get as many shots in as possible.

Otto groaned, staggering as he tried to at least block the kids’ hits. He didn’t want to fight them, but…well, he did need to get back to his dimension.

“WAIT! Just- surrendering! I surrender!” Otto staggered backwards, holding his hands up defensively. Miles went to lunge again, but Pavitr grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

“Hey, hold on. He’s done.” For safety, the two webbed otto up, restraining his arms–organic and metal–before checking on the others.

Hobie, while winded, was okay; he didn’t seem too happy, though. “Whahat the fuck, Octavious? Seriously? Ticklin’?”

“Would you rather I have fought you by swinging hundred-pound metals at your heads?” Otto just smiled, apparently not that upset that he’d been caught.

“No, but…why?” Gwen walked over as well, still holding her sides; she played it off as crossing her arms. She scanned Otto with her watch, locating his universe; it was the newer, much more humane way they were returning the criminals to their dimensions.

“You’re all children, are you not? I figured it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary.”

All four of them froze at that, sharing one quick “oh shit” look. How did he know? It was literally the first time any of them had seen him; what tipped him off?

“Hey, calm down. I’m ready to go home, not guess at secret identities.” Otto’s tone was strangely paternal, though the group chose to ignore that fact.

“I…whatever. C’mon, guys.” Gwen ushered the villain forward, dissolving the webs right as he stepped through the glowing orange portal.

After a moment of healthy silence to process whatever the hell just happened, Pav broke the silence.

“Well…that was eventful.” He chuckled as Hobie shoved his shoulder, happy to break the tension. Hobie used his watch to make a portal to his universe, tugging the joyful boy in to go watch bad movies and forget about the silly mission.

Miles took a few tentative side-steps towards Gwen, hoping to dissolve some of the awkwardness around her as well.

“Ya know…I don’t need to be home for a good few hours. We could go check out that new record shop in my universe, if you’re up for it…?”

“...alright. Can we get shakes afterwards too?”

“Yeah, no problem. Vinyl and peanut butter fudge await us.”

“Await us?”

“We’re doin’ a Shakespeare analysis, gimme a break!”

-

Oliva set down her duffles of parts, satisfied with how the day went. Sure, her variant was captured and relocated, but she got what she needed out of him. With the tech they’d managed to scrounge up, her plans were perfectly viable.

While getting the pieces organized, Liv couldn’t help but think back on the heist. One of her tentacles had a small glitch; she’d need to run a few diagnostics to see what went wrong.

She also thought about the hellions that tried to ruin her plans yet again. The method Otto implemented to subdue them, while ridiculous, had been surprisingly effective. The supposed teens’ laughter had been rather…well, adorable, for a lack of better words.

When he caught her reflection in the screen, she saw a smile, of all things, greeting her. It was a weakness, finding joy in such frivolous matters. Damn that variant and his infectious ideals!

Still, he was right; it was much easier to tickle them instead of fight.

She’d have to try it again in the future…

[grayishgiggles]

A Friend in Need

Hobart Brown was a stoic man. No, not stoic like Miguel, but it took an awfully huge thing to disrupt his demeanor, to throw him off his uncanny rhythm.

That is what scared Pavitr Prabhakar at this moment, as both of them sat on the floor of his colorful and warm apartment. The lanky man beside him adjusted a tuning peg on his guitar with a shaky hand. Not only that, but the more than normally chaotic colored outline around his figure was brewing like a storm, like a kid’s drawing made with every crayon color. He’d been like this since they came back from Spider HQ.

The pair were sent on a mission not long ago, to take care of yet another anomaly. It couldn’t have gotten better, to be honest. It was an easy catch and transportation of the villain. Heck, Miguel even seemed satisfied with their work. He even gave a smile. But the Spider-Punk’s color remained uneasy, and it didn’t seem to be wearing off with the change of scenery.

Spider-Man India knew better than to ignore his friend’s feelings.

“You doing ok, Hobes?” Pav broke the silence.

The young punk stopped his fiddling, making eye contact for the first time in what felt like forever. He eyed his guitar, and gained control of his once shaky hand. “Ah shit.”

“What’s up, man?”

“No point lyin’ to you,” he sighed, “just got spooked, that’s all.”

Pav nodded, “that’s okay. It happens.”

Hobie scrunched his face up, picking at a sticker on the guitar’s base. “Din’t think the anomaly would be a…”

“…police officer?”

He bit his pierced lip. “Din’t know that. Ya think Miguel would tell me: a Green Goblin cop, that’s who we’re after. Fits the character, greedy bastard out for power,” he chuckled sadly.

“…but goddamn… he looked too much like that bloody bitch that killed my friend.”

Hobie smoothed out the sticker he was picking. It’s like he had more to say, but getting the words out were too hard right now. He took a deep breath, giving his buddy a small smile. “But he’s long gone now. Nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”

“You seem pretty worried,” Pavitr frowned, cocking his head to the side. “You gonna be okay?”

“Pav, my man, I’ll be fine. Ya know what I’m about.” The punk puffed his chest a little, feigning his usual confidence.

That only made his friend giggle lightly. He put a hand on Hobie’s knee. “It’s ok to be shaken up, bro! No shame in it! I’m here!”

Hobie exhaled. Pavitr’s smile was contagious, too contagious. “You’re too fuckin’ softhearted, mate. Love that ‘bout you.” He leaned into his friend’s kind touch, his colored outline flashing to a warm orange. “Thanks.”

“You know I’m not done! Tell me, what can I do to help you?”

Oh, Hobie didn’t think that far yet. He gave a loose shrug. “I ‘unno. Just need to get this pang outta my chest.” He said, holding his hand near his heart. “Ts’like Gwen doin a drum solo.”

Pavitr scooted closer. “Well maybe a hug?”

“Mmmm…maybe somethin’ to take my mind elsewhere,” the punk suggested.

Pavitr leaned on his shoulder now as he thought, letting out a hum. “Hmm… we could always bother Miles!”

“Nahhh he don’t wanna see me like this.”

“Hooooobieeeee,” the shorter man whined, clutching his arm, “you’re making this hard on purpose now!”

The laugh from Hobie confirmed it, a relieving sound to hear. Pavitr punched his arm gently, “ahalright, if you’re not gonna give me an answer, I’ll tickle you to cheer you up!”

“Says the most ticklish goddamn person on earth,” Hobie spat back, not missing a beat.

Pavitr gasped dramatically. Without saying another word, he pretended like he was gonna go, but was yanked back by Hobie’s arm. It almost felt desperate. “Wait I was doggin’ mate! You can tickle me!”

Pav’s eyes practically sparkled. It wasn’t often that Hobie was in the mood for tickles. Usually he was in the mood for tickling… tickling Pav. “Really?”

The nod from his friend immediately made him pump his fists. “Yes!!!”

“‘Ey,” Hobie grabbed the eager hands reaching out towards him, “nothin’ too crazy, ‘Kay? Not lookin’ to pass out.”

“I’d never!” The young man said, watching his friend adjust himself, laying on the floor of the room. “You tell me when you’ve had enough.”

The punk gave a thumbs up. “Got it, mate.”

“Alright,” Pav climbed on his legs, getting comfy. He smiled, watching the outline of Hobie turn pink. “You nervous?”

“Nah.”

“You’re pink thouuughh,” his tone was laced in mischief, placing his hands on Hobie’s stomach, only covered by his thin and messily made spider-suit. He felt him flinch. “You’re always pink when excited!”

“Bruv y-yohou better shut up-!” It was taking everything in his power not to grab Pav’s hands, Pav’s now wiggling hands. Oh god. He was tickling now. Hobie slapped his hands over his mouth. “PFFt-!”

Pav simply chuckled, letting his nimble fingers dance around his tummy. “Aw don’t hide your laugh from me! C’mon, Hobieeeee!” His hands gave his sides a quick squeeze as encouragement.

“ACK-!” Hobie’s hands grabbed Pav’s out of instinct, “ohMYGAWd!!”

Like it was nothing, the strong arms of Pavitr pushed Hobie’s arms up and away. “Nuh uh uh! You keep those up there! You better not punch me!”

“Ihihihi might!”

“Then I’ll just web your arms down!”

Hobie narrowed his eyes threateningly. “Don’t.”

Pav wasn’t one to wear a shit-eating grin, but this was an exception. “Then keep your arms uuuuuuup!”

He heard his friend do something he rarely did: groan in annoyance. Of course that groan was replaced with a hearty chuckle once Pav wiggled his fingers at him.“There’s that smile I love!”

Hobie already felt like spontaneously combusting. It was something about Pavitr and his stupidly silly way of tickling that made him break into a goofy grin, and also the fact he was the one receiving. This wasn’t a usual spot for him to be in. Was it unnerving? Yes, but the pangs in his chest were barely felt over the fluttery butterflies in his stomach.

And then Pav was back to the side squeezes.

“BRuhuhuhuvvv!” He snorted, his boots hitting against the floor. Hobie was trying to focus on kicking his legs so he wouldn’t give his friend a bloody nose. Pav didn’t make this easy at all. He felt fingers slip into his vest, then dig into his rib cage. “AH SHIHIHIT!” Hobie blurted, twisting from one side to the other. The crop top he had on was doing nothing to protect him. 

“I gotcha good!” Pav teased, leaning closer. Now he was gonna start being mean. Wait, he wasn’t mean before? No, my dear reader, he wasn’t. “Awwww Hobieeee look at youuuuu!”

“SH-Shuhuhut the f-!” Hobie stopped himself, snorting again.

“Ohhhh? What was that? Hobie, you can’t swear at meeee! You know what’ll happen.”

Yeah, Hobie knew. A panicked grin spread across his face, avoiding eye contact with his shorter friend. “I-IHihihi d-din’t say nothin!”

“You sure?” Pavitr scritched into the punk’s lower ribs. He got the reaction he was searching for.

“FuHUCK!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” his goofy tone slipped into a more sly one. Hobie felt Pavitr adjusting himself around. “Nohoho c’mon mate y-yaha don’t gotta!”

Pav paused. “Is this a ‘stop?’” The mischief was absent in his voice.

Hobie finally looked at his friend, his face heating up. “I-I mean…”

“We can stop if this is too much. I’m only trying to cheer you up.” Spider-Man India had removed his hands, holding them up to gesture his compliance.

The outline around the punk stirred pink. Hobie wasn’t one for admitting things, even to someone like Pav. “I-I…” he clamped his mouth shut.

“It’s ok if you want more tickles!”

Oh come on Pav! It was hard enough to even ask for it.

That’s why Hobie was gonna do it his own way, a way his friend would get the signal. He took his hand off his mouth, showing a smirk. Slowly but surely, he lifted a middle finger at Pavitr. “Fuck off.”

Spider-Man India’s eyes went wide, not only wide but bright. “Hobart Brown!!” He gasped, feigning offense. “Okay, you asked for this.”

Even if it didn’t do much, Pav lifted Hobie’s crop top upward to expose his suit covered stomach more. He only did it to make the Spider-Punk anxious. Clearly it worked. The man was giggling. Yes, I said giggling.

“So…Hobart…what is a tickle monster’s favorite fruit?” Pavitr asked, cracking his knuckles.

“Aahaw shit yohohou’re bein’ a dick, now…”

“Answer the questiiionnnnn!” His fingers fluttered teasingly, making Hobie flinch. “Ah! Noho come on I’m naht answering!!”

“Ten…” he counted, “nine…eight…seven…”

Hobie scoffed, balling his hands into fists. “Imma kill you after this, I swear to non-existent deity.”

“Six…” Pav lowered his head a few inches, causing the stomach below him to quiver from chuckles. “Five…”

“Pav!”

“Four-“

“KAY FINE! It’s rahahaspberries! Raspberries, you fuckin tw-AHT!” Hobie almost bonked Pavitr on the head when he saw the guy dive face first into his stomach. He dissolved upon impact, wheezing. “YOHOHOU BASTARD!”

Pavitr raised his head, “what was that?”

“YOu-yohohou’re a basT-“

“PRRBBTTTT!!” Pav planted another raspberry mid-sentence, relishing in his friend’s free flying cackles. He felt his friend grab his head, digging his nails into his hair. He was definitely holding back from his instincts, which Pav appreciated from a self-preserving point, but also from a “my friend really wants to laugh” point.

The punk threw his head back, snorting. “Yohohou-y-yohohou’re killin’ meeEEHEHE!!” His suit wasn’t protecting him at all from the raspberry onslaught. “SHIHIT!”

“You hangin’ in there?” Pav looked up. Hobie panted coming back to reality for a sec. He loosened his grip on his friend’s head. “S-Sorry ‘bout that, mate. D-Dohon’t…don’t wanna rip your perfect h-hahahair out.” He took a bigger breath, “m’good…m-maybe a minute more and we stop.”

“Can do!” Pavitr smiled… then immediately went back to another tummy raspberry. Hobie almost folded in on himself, wheezes escaping his lips. “NAHA FUCK!”

It was by the third round of raspberries when Hobie tapped out, laughter getting a little too frantic. “OKAHAY! OKAYIMDONE!”

Like a switch turned off, Spider-Man India let up. He swished his hair out of his face and fixed it, smiling at the big ol’ grin across Hobie’s face. “Did I kill ya?”

His chest heaved with each pant, shaking his head at the question and pushing out his residual giggles. He peered at his stomach. “C-Close tho…” he mumbled, watching his friend roll off him and sit beside. “Y-You’re a menace.”

Pavitr grabbed Hobie’s now outstretched hand, pulling him up to sit. “But lookit that smile you got!”

His hand rubbed his face, sort of sore from smiling so much. “Yeaaaaahh shuddup.” He punched his arm playfully.

“How are you feeling?” Pavitr placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it. “Need water?”

“Please. Thanks.” Hobie coughed, remaining where he was as Spider-Man India reached for a bottle on his nightstand. He handed it to him. “…feel tired…but good. Dopamine’s some good stuff.” He twisted the cap off and downed it.

“That’s what I’m saying! It’s a nice feeling, right?”

Hobie shrugged as he drank. He took a breath, “yeaaaaah maybe you’re right.”

“Maybe?”

The punk squinted at him, then rolled his eyes. “You are.”

Pavitr grinned. This was a better sight to see. “It’s nice to see that smile again.”

For a split second Hobie’s outline went pink, then reverted to its neutral gray. “Thanks. You helped it, mate.”

“You hungry?”

“Starvin’.”

“I know a great place, c’mon!” Pavitr stood up, stretching. He grabbed his mask on his bed.

“You paying?”

“Aw, come on, Hobes!”

“You owe me after that.”

“Okay fiiiiine, I’ll pay… even though you liked tickle time.”

Hobie sighed, “you aren’t gonna shuddup, are you?”

Pavitr simply grinned, opening his window. “Nope!” He hopped through it, already swinging away.

It took longer for Hobie to get up. He felt the blood rush to his head when he stood up too fast, “shit.” It stabled after a few seconds. He grabbed his guitar, putting the strap over him. He made his way to the window, smirking when Pav kept beckoning him atop another building.

He’d catch up, don’t worry. The punk just needed to take a second and appreciate his friend.

[an0ma1y-th3d0ma1y]

Other Tactics

(A/N: This fic doesn’t take place in the canon ATSV lore but rather a lil delusional AU where Miguel is chill with the spider teens and is like a father figure to em :] hope you enjoy!!)

“AAAAAHH IM SORRY IM SOHORRY!!”

A young voice echoed through the halls of the Spider Society HQ. The voice leading back to Miles who was currently running for his life from the one and only Miguel O’Hara, but not for the reason you might assume.

“So you think you’re so funny sneaking up on me like that, huh?”

“Mahaybe!”

The two went back and forth, the young spider backed up into the corner of the ceiling like a frightened tarantula. Immediately diving past the older man when he attempted to grab him. Quickly turning invisible, which was really dramatic for a situation like this, letting out a small scream when Miguel’s glowing red web suddenly wrapped around his waist.

In a moment of pure panic and excitement, he zapped Miguel. Quickly pushing himself out of his arms and into the go-home-machine room. Miguel calming his nerves from the sudden shock followed by a small chuckle as he walked into the room.

“Ay, you little arañas thinking you can get away with everything..” He growled deeply through a smirk, listening for any hints at where the spiderling might’ve ran off to. And sure enough, his ultra-hearing picked up an ever so slight giggle. Taking in a deep ‘annoyed’ breath, Miles nearly jumped out of his skin when Miguel’s web was all of a sudden wrapped around him. Yelping and failing at grabbing at an object for support when he was pulled from his secret hiding spot. His invisibility wearing off, revealing himself to Miguel who had a firm grasp on the boy to assure he wouldn’t wiggle off somewhere else.

“Miguel! We can talk about this, right man?? I mean, I-It wasn’t even my idea! Hobie suggested it to me and I just followed along-“

Miles continuously ranted while Miguel casually walked out and towards the database room. Rolling his eyes at the amusing nervous stammering of the young teen. “Doesn’t change the fact you executed it.. I’ll get that little pest later, right now you’re gonna have to face punishment.” Miguel brushed off his stammering, stepping onto the aerial platform with the squirming spider still in his firm grasp

“Well, taking your watch away obviously doesn’t seem to get my message through now does it?” Miguel raised an eyebrow, looking down at Miles who had a nervous grin. “..Whaaaaat?? O-of course it does!” He retorted, but he already knew where this conversation was going.. “Last I checked, no it doesn’t.” He commented, unsheathing his claw. “Perhaps I need some more.. extreme solutions. Since you little pequeños don’t seem to get the message.”

A small squeak escaped Miles’ lips when Miguel’s clawed finger ever so slightly dragged along his midsection. Tracing little shapes into it while it flinched and sucked in at every little small touch. “..Thihis reheheally isn’t necessary, mahahan..” He tried to protest through his small giggles, struggling to wiggle out of the firm hold Miguel had him trapped in.

“Oh, it most certainly is.”

Miguel winced a bit at the teens loud scream near his ear when he clawed at his belly. Kicking his legs and squirming like a maniac even if they had barely even started. “AAHAHAAA!?- MIhihiHIGuhehel please I-I’m- I’m sohoHOHORRY!!”

“Are you though? Or are you just saying that to get free?” Miguel questioned teasingly. Without warning, he switched his tactics to instead drag his claw up Miles’ side and ribs before descending back down. Resisting the urge to break out laughing at his hilarious response.

The kid cackled and squirmed, even snorting a little in between his laughter. However, their little lighthearted interaction was quickly interrupted when Miles suddenly shot his elbow up, not paying attention to who was behind him.

A sickening POW silenced the rest of the noise, Miles being dropped on the floor by Miguel who cupped his cheekbone in pain. Miles’ eyes widening, immediately assuming the worst. “Crap- Oh shoot I’m so sorry are you okay, man!? Did I do any serious damage d-do you need to go to medbay I can- AA!!—

Miles was cut off from his nervous ranting when he was suddenly grabbed by the older man. Before he knew it, he was shrieking and cackling like a mad man. Miguel scribbling furiously at his underarms while Miles had his biceps glued to his ribs.

“GYAHAAHAAHAHAA!!!— *snort* NAHAHAHA IHIM SAHAHARRYY!! *snort* *snort*” The young spider cried out, getting a chuckle from Miguel. Soon enough, the older spider gave mercy to him. Gently holding him under his arms and letting him get some breaths in, especially after having squirmed and thrashed like crazy..

“Ohoh gohod.. Look ihim sorry, ohokay!?”

“..Are you though?”

“..nope. Wahwahait nononNAHAAHAHAA IHI AHAM I AMM!!”

[neppy-34]

Miguel’s “best friend”

7200 words, long Miguel x Reader (PLATONIC!)

Lee Miguel, Ler reader

Becoming close with Miguel had been an uphill battle. His constant standoffish and harsh demeanor was anything but easy to get past. Yet glimpses of softness behind his eyes, the way his frown faltered ever so slightly from time to time. That is what made it worth the effort. A chance to see a gentle, softer Miguel pushed you to be by his side time and time again.

Your efforts often went without reward. On lucky days Miguel would simply let you observe. Days in which luck was not in your favor, he would push you out of his lab at a moment's notice. Shutting you out from even attempting to get closer to him.

However after many long, tiresome months of staying by his side. Asking him questions about his interests, and befriending Lyla, Miguel had opened his heart up to you, even if it was just a simple peek.

It was quite the surprise when you received a private message on your watch. A message from miguel. It was a simple statement. A time, place and an activity.

Dinner at Miguel’s house, 7 PM tonight.

How lovely, oh how very, very lovely. He trusted you enough to invite you to his own home? Oh you've only ever dreamed of getting this far. To think Miguel was going to cook you a meal that he invited you to?

The concept left you starstruck. You fervently texted back, before deleting said message and retyping something that both represented your excitement, but remained normal enough as to not scare off or unsettle Miguel.

Dinner at Miguel’s house. What a treat.

At 6:58 you fidgeted nervously at his front door, contemplating on knocking or waiting the extra two minutes. By the time you made a decision the time on your watch read 7:01

Shit

Accepting your defeat with your head held high, you knocked with an air of confidence. Firm knuckles over hardwood.

Miguel's apartment door opened up almost immediately, as if he was anxious for your arrival. Miguel was an interesting sight to say the least, his attire consisted of a rather plain looking, cool toned sweater and jeans.

You sighed in relief, no longer afraid that you had underdressed for the occasion.

After a few beats Miguel leaned away from the door, opening it further as he did so. He bit his lip before speaking.

“The food is almost done, you can take your shoes off and put them on the rack…”

Miguel then smoothly turned on his heel, and walked out of your sight towards the kitchen. You complied to his instructions, taking off your shoes and placing them in a neat, orderly fashion next to Miguel’s.

You always believed you could tell a great deal about a person from their shoes. Yet now you began to second guess that notion.

Boots, multiple pairs of sneakers, a pair of converse, dress shoes. Miguel had it all. All pairs in various stages of wear and tear.

You snapped yourself out of your contemplations and followed the smell of something delicious. Hoping that your nose would guide you to the kitchen, where Miguel would undoubtedly be working away at making dinner.

Making you dinner to share with him.

The idea made the corners of your mouth pull into an excited grin, quickening your steps as the pleasant smell grew stronger.

Turning the corner granted you a rather pleasant sight. Miguel was calm, standing over a sizable pot as he gently sired the contents with a ladle.

“It's pozole.”

The dazzling red hues of his eyes met yours as he looked in your direction, eyes nearly half lidded. It was new and quite exciting to see Miguel so calm. The usual tension in his shoulders was nowhere to be seen, now replaced with a comfortable slack.

“You can pick a bowl from the cupboard”

Miguel's gaze returned to the pot, opening the drawer to the side of him and plucking out a pair of utensils.

Too nervous to speak, you nodded wordlessly and stepped across Miguel's kitchen. His cupboards were quite tall, like him. but you had no trouble opening the door and carefully grasping two identical bowls.

————-——————————

Dinner was great, albeit a bit awkward. Thankfully you had coaxed Miguel into talking by inconspicuously asking about how he learned to make the dish. Which led him to recall a time in which his mother called him into the kitchen, and walked him through the steps, start to finish.

The story continued as the two of you washed your dishes, Miguel told of how his mother was abrasive and outspoken, yet she guided him with such gentle confidence. Miguel ended his monologue with a rather simple statement.

“Yeah… my mom is pretty great..”

He chuckled, yet it wasn't a chuckle out of joy or amusement, rather you could tell Miguel harbored a sense of sadness regarding his mother.

You decided not to push on the topic, however as you two sat on Miguel’s rather large and comfortable couch. You found your own curiosities nipping at your psyche.

You slowly sat up, curiously walking towards your host’s bookshelf. Eyeing the ocean of different textbooks, think pieces, anatomy studies…

So much information, you had wondered if Miguel had read each one.

You heard Miguel mirror your movements, wordlessly standing up and taking a place next to you.

“These were what I studied when I was a biologist full time. I still go back and read them every once in a while.”

You glanced to your left where Miguel had taken his place. Dazzled by the idea of him being so intelligent. All spider-people were smart. You knew that for certain, but the idea of Miguel being so well read charmed you to no end.

You continued to scan the bookshelf, finishing each row until your eyes met the bottom. Most books fit the same look as the previous dozens but one stood out.

“What's that one?”

You pointed curiously at a rather old looking, hand bound binder, obnoxiously sticking out from the rest of the pristine white texts.

“Oh.”

Miguel squatted down, his movements fluid and graceful. Reaching out to grab the binder, he pulled it out of the shelf carefully and dusted off the front cover with his hand.

“It’s a family photo album.”

He spoke with such an air of uninterested ease, which clashed perfectly with your unspoken excitement. A smile took hold of your face and you could no longer resist the urge to chirp out.

“Can we look through it?”

Your eyes glistened with joy, and Miguel could simply not resist. He sighed gently, holding the binder under his arm and he unenthusiastically padded over to the couch. Miguel unceremoniously dropped down into the cushion, the excessively soft padding causing him to bounce slightly. He looked towards you, patting the space beside him as a wordless invitation.

As you sat down, you took the opportunity to lean into his arm, rationalizing the behavior as simply wanting to get a good view of the binders contents.

You felt Miguel’s curious gaze fall upon you for a moment, yet he made no efforts to change your positioning, it seemed he simply allowed you to be close to him.

With confident hands, he opened up the book with a face of neutrality. Gently turning the pages as he presented each picture, adding little anecdotes to the ones he deemed memorable or Important enough.

“And this one..” Miguel chuckled before he continued.

“This one is of me and my athair when I was little, he used to carry me on his shoulders”

Miguel's fingers gently dragged along the page, obviously reminiscing on a time in which his life was much less complicated. A time where his family was simple, and sweet.

“Athair?”

Your tone was gentle, yet conveyed your confusion and curiosity perfectly. You looked up from the pages, studying the expression on Miguel’s face.

He bore a sort of wistful smirk, looking down, deep into the photo of him and his family.

“It means father”

He turned his head towards you before continuing.

“You know he used to sit me down at the kitchen table every night, and we would just talk in Gaeilge… he always made sure I never used any slang, only proper textbook words and phrases..”

Miguel blinked a few times before sharply inhaling through his nose, he quickly turned the page. Obviously embarrassed about how emotional he had begun to get. His voice was watery as he continued to speak, pointing out fond memories involving his brother, a few notable, sweet moments with his mother, and of course the events that were documented with him and his father. None of the pictures were in a particularly chronological order, so it wasn't a surprise when Miguel turned the page, and you caught a glimpse of a much younger Miguel compared to the previous photographs.

He looked about four, maybe five years old, his dark curls were long and wisped around his eyebrows, making the cutest little bangs imaginable. His cheeks were still a little chubby, and his grin possessed no fangs.

As you looked further at the spectacle of photos, you noticed a particular image. A photo that Miguel had neglected to comment on. It actually seemed that he was actively ignoring the photograph.

The printed picture depicted that same, young and curly haired Miguel, giggling and playing with his mother. A book was placed in her lap, said book showed a small illustration of a brightly colored creature playing with other silly looking characters. A classic children's book.

Yet this one seemed a bit different.

Miguel's mother wore a rather interesting pair of fingerless gloves. The color pallet matched the creature from the book perfectly, the bright and gentle blue color accented with rainbow colored cuffs.

Then it clicked.

It was “the tickle monster” book of course it was. In all your efforts to recognize the material, you had failed to notice that Miguel's mother was actually tickling him with the gloves on. A warm smile on his mothers face complimented his blush filled giggling.

“Aww you liked that book as a kid too?”

Pointing at the photo with your index, you tried your hardest to sound sweet, avoiding any teasing tone. But Miguel still stiffened up as he blushed.

“Um, yeah I guess.”

It was the reddest you’ve ever seen Miguel, the beet color even spread down his neck and to his ears. You didn't quite understand why he was so embarrassed. A lot of children enjoyed playing with their parents, a lot of children enjoyed being tickled. Why not combine the two.

You caught Miguel biting his lip before he turned the page, hurrying onto another subject. Specifically the time his brother had gotten stuck in a tree while playing. Miguel smirked casually, and you watched as the redness of his cheeks began to dissipate.

————-——————————

The night had ended off quite well, Miguel walked you to his door after a rather pleasant conversation, you carried a tupperware of the soup he had made in your hands. You both understood that it was quite odd that he was walking you to his door, as you were obviously not from his world. But common practice seemed to outweigh your reasoning.

As he shut the door, Miguel bid you a goodnight, and told you to text him when you arrived at home in your own universe. To make sure you got home safe, of course.

The colors of the portal you opened shifted hues as you stared into the warm light, taking a short moment to stare behind you at his door. Your feet began to move as you looked, almost yearning to return Miguel’s warm side. Despite the feeling you stepped through the portal anyway. Landing in your room in which you promptly got ready for bed.

Getting under the covers and laying your head on the pillow, you searched for the solace of slumber. Yet none was granted. You couldn’t stop thinking, your head was completely full.

Full of miguel. Full of how he made you such a delicious meal. And how he let you lean into him. His books and the baby pictures and how he blushed.

Oh how he blushed. The picture simply wouldn't leave your thoughts, your fixation wasn't just amusement it was something deeper. A fondness that only emerged at his vulnerability. You scoffed and rolled over.

The tickle monster

How ridiculous, why did Miguel get so embarrassed by it. You had to understand. Was it general mortification at the childishness? Or was it something deeper.

You shot up in bed as you came to the realization. Miguel's flush wasn’t from simple embarrassment. Its roots sprouted from a sense of shame that always accompanied desire. A desire for a carefree, simpler time in which Miguel could just play, and not have to worry about saving lives or universes. Miguel had never let himself enjoy things, even when invited to. Of course he wouldn’t want to indulge in lighthearted, childlike play.

If Miguel wouldn't let himself enjoy it, then maybe you could become his own personal tickle monster

Excitement filled your heart and a smile shone on your face once more as you reached for your laptop. Ignoring the blinding light that emerged from the screen, you frantically typed into the search bar. Nothing wrong with a little meddling, right?

You could make Miguel happy, and achieve that closeness you were so heavily desiring. It was in fact, the perfect plan.

You only hoped that Miguel wouldn't be too embarrassed or shameful.

You quickly bought the item you were searching for, pleased to find a listing that didn't include the book. While such an item could be rather beneficial in the future, it wasn't needed in order to enact your current endeavor.

Now your only task was to wait.

————-——————————

Waiting to tickle Miguel was nearly as enjoyable as actually tickling him.

In the days it took for your package to arrive you had taken it upon yourself to be Miguel’s resident menace.

You had followed him around like a shadow, never straying too far away. Even when he needed time to focus you would remain nearby, chatting to Lyla or tinkering with your own projects.

You stuck to him like glue, which would have been borderline pleasant if you hadn't decided to subtly tease him every moment he wasn't working.

Miguel jumped when you snuck behind him to blow a puff of air in his ear. Swiftly turning around to glare at you before walking away, and of course you followed, never falling far behind. Miguel gasped when you jumped at him as he was turning a corner holding your hands out like claws and playfully making a sort of light growling. You pretended to not notice as he instinctively brought his hands up to protect his torso. He pushed past you with a scowl, storming off into his office.

You simply looked after him with a smirk and turned to follow.

—-————————————

The day the gloves finally arrived you nearly jumped for joy. They were perfect, just like in Miguel’s photo, Gentle blue with rainbow patterned cuffs. They were absolutely wonderful. You quickly took off the gloves and paired them together in your bag. In one swift motion you opened a portal, jumping through the omni-colored doorway.

You just had to make it through the day without foiling your own plans. Summoning the screen on your watch, you sent Miguel a private message.

Still on for tonight?

With a swipe of your finger, the holo screen dissolved and you began sorting the anomalies through the “go home machine”. Letting out short, witty quips as you sent them through.

Every so often your bag would catch your eye, and you shook your head frantically trying to ignore the thought of Miguel giggling beneath your gloved fingers.

You focused on your work, sorting, sending, recording. The job was rather easy, which only aided your wandering thoughts into becoming distractions.

Halfway through the day, you received a message from Miguel, it was short. Not concerningly so as Miguel had the habit of being long winded in person, and curt through messages.

Yes.

You smiled at your watch as you smugly waved goodbye to a prowler variant, who was currently being restrained from swiping at the electric shield with his claws.

The remaining hours of your shift passed by quickly, and you internally thanked Lyla for being stricter with Miguel about his near constant overtime.

Excitement turned to nerves as you reached the door to Miguel’s office fidgeting with your bag. Maybe bringing the gloves was a bad idea. But, Miguel looked so happy in the photo…

You peered into your bag, snatching the soft gloves before holding both in your hands. Your gaze rapidly shifting between the door and the gloves. Taking a deep breath, you returned the gloves to their position in your bag, and confidently opened the door to Miguel's office.

You strode in, bouncing slightly. While it was easy to conceal your excitement through your expression, it was a bit more difficult to hide your excited steps.

Miguel was still at his screens, concentrating fully on his work. His eyes were narrowed, glancing slowly between each orange screen. His shoulders held tension, as he hung his head lower than he naturally would.

Miguel looked tired.

Lyla materialized beside him, whispering in his ear and pointing a finger towards you. Lyla always made you laugh, she consistently made little jokes and gestures that were unnecessary, but very entertaining.

Miguel rolled his shoulders as he turned to look at you, his eyes glowing red in the dark room.

The usually aerial platform was positioned towards the ground today, and Miguel stepped off with ease, Lyla took over his position as she conjured up a very comfortable looking digital chair

Oh lyla

Miguel loomed over your stature as the two of you met, his tall frame and broad shoulders casting you in a shadow. It was almost intimidating. Almost.

“Is it that time already?”

Miguel's voice was steady and calm, yet lacked that air of wit that he usually possessed. Miguel was definitely tired.

“Mhm, it’s movie time”

You opened your bag, praying that Miguel wouldn’t notice the gloves. Pulling out the film of your choosing, you presented him with its case. The brightly colored cover catching his eye.

“Hm, looks… interesting”

You scoffed at Miguel’s attempt to be polite, for an unfunny spiderman, he had been making you laugh quite a lot these past couple of days.

“don’t worry Miguel, I chose a stupid movie on purpose”

A chuckle was shared between the both of you. After All this was your first ”movie night” with Miguel, you purposely chose a rather meaningless film as you had the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn't be doing much watching anyway.

You watched as Miguel turned towards Lyla, the pair made eye contact for a moment, a shared knowing nod was had before Miguel began to fiddle with his watch. Opening a rather unneeded portal to his living room. You smiled at the absurdity as Miguel gestured for you to step through the warm colors. You complied instantly, casually walking head-first into Miguel’s now familiar living space.

He followed briskly behind you, striding farther in the room and grabbing one of the bags of snacks that had been placed on his coffee table.

“Have a preference?”

You looked over the two bags, contemplating your options for a moment before Miguel spoke up, casually walking out of the living room.

“I'm going to go ahead and change, the bathroom is down this hall to the left if you want to as well.”

You hurried to comply, while comfortable, your spidersuit was nothing compared to casual clothing. Miguel's bathroom was nice, it had a clean, yet mild scent. And the mirror was quite large in height. Most likely custom made for Miguel to be able to see himself in the mornings without having to duck down. You changed with as much efficiency as you possibly could, yet when you arrived back in the living room, Miguel had already sat on the floor, fiddling with his console in hopes of getting the movie to work.

“You know… we’re lucky I collect vintage consoles, this disk is ancient.”

You chortled quietly at the idea of something from your timeline being considered “ancient”. Rolling your eyes playfully, you plopped down on the couch, leaning back into its softness. You had made sure to keep your bag close to your feet, in order to avoid suspicion when your plan inevitably came to fruition.

Miguel let out a triumphant hum, before standing up and sitting on the couch next to you. His movements exhibited much more poise and grace than your ragdoll-esque falling onto the cushions. His position was comfortably close, yet allowed for a polite amount of distance. He reached out onto the coffee table, grabbing the remote and handing it to you.

The opening scene of the movie played, and you leaned back into the cushions, fingers gently twitching as you shot secret glances at Miguel. You just needed to be a little patient.

—————————————

“Wow, this is a boring movie.”

Your tone was dry, you looked up at Miguel who had an utterly unamused expression on his face. As he glanced down to look at you he sighed, no longer even attempting to pay attention to the theatrics on screen.

“Yeah this is… not great.”

You smiled, reaching for the remote and pressing pause. A small silence fell between you two as you simply stared at one another. Unsure of what to do next.

This was perfect.

“You know Miguel..”

You started to speak, leaning down to rifle through your bag, making a show and taking extra time to put on the gloves. Lucky for you the dim lighting provided a bit of cover from Miguel’s curious gaze, concealing the bright gloves currently being slipped onto your palms.

“That dinner was really great, I’m really happy you showed me your family..”

You were still bent over, faux looking through your bag as you purposefully built up tension. You felt Miguel’s gaze land on your back. You had him in your clutches.

You began to slowly sit up, hands still concealed in the dim lighting.

“But you know… I’m surprised that you still haven’t recognized me.”

Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed together as he leaned back, scanning your expression for answers. He looked utterly confused and a fair bit concerned. His lips began to thin into a line as he raised a hesitant hand.

“I mean how could you forget about your best friend…”

His eyes met yours as your serious expression melted into a rather goofy grin.

“The tickle monster!”

You eagerly lunged forward, catching Miguel completely off guard, allowing you to push him over without much struggle. Miguel let out a startled guffaw, sputtering out a confused exclamation.

In his confusion you were able to get him to lay flat on his back on the couch, sitting on the upper halves of his thighs as you wiggled your fingers and continued your act.

You danced your “paws” mere inches over Miguel's stomach. In his daze, rather than push you off, he only raised a hand to cover his mouth, attempting to shield his smile from your view.

You growled playfully, watching as Miguel finally caught a full glimpse of the gloves. You smiled as Miguel recognized the colorful patterns, and your heart gushed as even in the dimly lit room, you could still see the blush forming on his cheeks.

“Now I have to make up for lost time you see? It's been so long since we’ve played together”

You put on your best growling, teasing tone as Miguel kept his hand adamantly clamped over his mouth.

Oh well, that will soon come to an end anyway.

With an obviously over the top evil cackle, you plunged your glove adorned fingers into Miguel’s stomach, aiming for the spot in which his stomach and sides met. Spidering up and down the area with such enthusiasm, it really did seem like you were feeding off his laughter.

Miguel giggled loudly behind his palm, shaking his head back and forth before using his free hand to gently swipe at you. Unable to cope with the ticklish feeling.

The sight made you wonder how long it had been since Miguel has received this type of affection.

While his giggles were satisfying, they were muffled by the palm of his hand. You needed to get Miguel to really lose his mind in hysterics.

You began to growl once more, attempting to make Miguel lighten up as much as possible.

“As much as I’ve missed playing, I think I miss tickling this cute little tummy even more! I think you missed it too, haven’t you Miguel?

Your sly attempt to both fluster and call out Miguel lead him to slap the hand that was covering his mouth into your shoulder.

Leaning his head back into the cushions miguel giggled and snorted, finally responding to your shameless teasing

“Oh shOCK! DONT no no don't do THAT!”

his uneven tone amused you to no end, the way he protested so fervently yet made no effort to throw you off. The way Miguel shook his head, hoping to get your teasing words out of his ears. Oh it was simply too sweet.

“Hm? What is that Miguel? Don’t what? Don't talk about how ticklish your tummy is? What, did you think I would have forgotten my favorite spot to tickle?”

Miguel snorted at your words, blushing traveling down from his cheeks to his neck. His squirming grew more frantic, and he opted to simply hold your wrists rather than pushing at your shoulders.

After a few more seconds of spidering your nails up and down, you slowed to a stop, rubbing the spot to exterminate any lingering ghostly tickles. Granting Miguel a break.

Miguel was tough, however you had assumed that due to his lack of ticklish affection in his recent years, he would highly benefit from frequent breaks. In order to assure that he's actually enjoying himself.

You waited a few seconds, granting Miguel the opportunity to push you away, or tell you to stop, but no negative reactions came. Miguel simply caught his breath, his hands defensively placed on his torso. A wobbly smile was planted on his face as his gaze darted from your face to the gloves.

You simply chuckled and began to tap your chin, putting on a show of being in deep thought.

“Now where do I tickle you next… so much lost time! So hard to choose!”

You wiggled your fingers in the air once more, drawing out a surprised grunt from Miguel, whose hands raised slightly in defense. You glanced from spot to spot, contemplating where to draw Miguel's laughter from next. Suddenly you were hit with an epiphany, an evil, mortifying epiphany.

You bore a devilish grin as you opened your mouth to speak.

“How about you choose where I tickle next Miguel?”

You placed your palms on his shoulders, gently rubbing your thumbs along his collar bones. Watching the cogs turn in his head as Miguel’s gaze shifted from your eyes to your hands.

“I'm not doing that.”

Miguel was barely audible, his mumbled out refusal only drove you to twitch your fingers tentatively along his shoulders. Your desire to make him choose outweighed your desire to take pity on him. Poor Miguel, doomed to face your wrath.

“You have to choose, come on Miguel, do it for your old pal.”

You watched as Miguel's lips shifted, forming into a slight pout. You held back a snicker, enjoying how childish Miguel was acting, still refusing to push you away. As he opened his mouth to speak, you noticed his sharp feline-like fangs poking out from his top lip. The sight made your heart melt, but you held your composure.

“You are not my old pal. I met you 4 months ago.”

Miguel's grumpy tone was partially nulled by the blush on his cheeks. You smiled fondly, before morphing your gentle grin into a devious smile. Removing your hands from his shoulders. one hand rested on your hip while you used the other to point at him as you spoke, mirroring how an adult would reprimand a child.

“Miguel I am surprised by you, I’ve known you since you were a little boy.”

You accentuated your lecture by taking your pointing hand, and gently spidering your fingers up the center of his stomach. Miguel bit down on his bottom lip to conceal his surprised squeak, but you noticed how his abdomen flexed in response to the light tickling. Drawing back you continued, noticing how Miguel's gaze focused on the gloves.

“Now I am a bit hurt you still haven’t recognized me yet.. but I’ll forgive you. If you choose a spot for me to tickle.”

Miguel turned his head to the side, avoiding your eyes. He seemed to think for a second, genuinely weighing his options. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, then looked ahead once more. His brows were furrowed as he turned his head to look at you, returning it to its original position.

“You’re being so childish, what's wrong with you.”

Miguel's sour provocation made your expression falter for a moment, before you promptly burst out into boisterous giggles. You drew a hand towards yourself to slick back your hair for a moment, letting the hand drop by your side.

“What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you!”

Your giggles broke through your words as you spoke, losing yourself in the hysterics of your situation. Miguel's face bore a look of shock and confusion, and his eyebrows furrowed as if he was worried.

“You haven't pushed me off, or tried to snatch my hands or anything!… you haven't even told me to stop”

Miguel’s lips parted in his surprise, showing off his fangs once more. His eyes sparkled with a sense of guilt and shame. Your heart softened at the state of him, poor Miguel you only meant to call him out. Not hurt his feelings.

Your glove adorned paws reached out to cup his face, the fuzzy softness snapping Miguel back to reality. You held eye contact for a moment, before leaning your body down, touching your forehead to his.

You let out a gentle whisper, rubbing your thumbs on his cheeks.

“I think it’s really cute, I really like tickling you Miguel.”

Seeing Miguel blush was one thing, feeling his face heat up in real time was another. You drew your head back, straightening up to your original position, seated on top of him. You removed your hands from his face, only to begin wiggling your fingers.

“Now. Are you gonna choose where the tickle monster gets you?”

You returned that sly, maniacal grin to your face. Wiggling your fingers right above his torso. You watched as Miguel averted your gaze, yet nodded slightly all the same. Of course, it took him a minute to build the courage, biting his lower lip in thought.

“Um if you have to, I wouldn't mind.. my ribs.”

Miguel’s tone was nothing like you had heard from him before. It was soft and gentle, borderline timid. You felt so lucky to be the one who brought out this side of him. The shy and gentle side, the side that liked to play.

“Oh your ribs?”

You shifted your paws to gently pinch at miguels lowermost rib bones. Gently squeezing each article between your index and thumb.

“I’d love to tickle your ribs Miguel! Why didn’t you just ask to begin with? … you know, i'd do anything for my best friend”

You happily giggled along with him, watching his torso shift slightly. He rocked side to side in little mico motions, and you felt him gently kick out his feet behind you.

Your dexterous fingers climbed up his rib bones as if they were rungs on a ladder. Taking your time to reach the very top, just below his underarms before dragging all ten Fingers back down to his first set of ribs.

You continued this pattern, crawling up then dragging down. It was very entertaining to watch Miguel giggle and squirm. The way he scrunched his nose up when you reached the top of his ribs made you chuckle with fondness.

“AH- waitwait not there!”

Miguel’s panicked protest snapped you out of your one track, ticklish daze. Looking down you realized that your hands had unconsciously traveled up to his underarms, wiggling gently into the flesh that resided there.

You sighed happily, stopping your fingers and gazing into Miguel’s eyes. The reddish hues dazzled you to no end.

“Anywhere…. Anywhere else but there”

Miguel's uneven breaths proved his sensitivity. You began to draw your hands back, playing with the soft fur on the gloves. Making eye contact once more you spoke with a soft yet ultimately very teasing tone.

“Of course miggy what kind of a tickle monster would I be if i didn't listen to my favorite little tickle buddy?”

The nickname combined with the still childish persona of a tickle monster sent shivers up Miguel’s spine. He could only let out a whine filled groan in response, tipping his head back.

Laying down once more, you let your head rest on Miguel’s shoulder, bringing a gloved hand up to rub the fur on his exposed neck. The fur was incredibly soft, and Miguel could only stiffen up, leaning away from hid assailant. Unfortunately he was leaning straight into your whispering teases.

“Remember me yet Miguel? Surely you must by now.”

Your hand followed Miguel as he leaned away, unintentionally wiggling closer towards you. The teasing and soft, furry touches only clouded his mind. Sending little electric shocks throughout his body.

“No.”

The statement was choked out, you could tell he was trying not to squeal. Closer and closer he wiggled towards you, until your forehead met his profile.

“Oh really? Then I guess I’ll have to tickle and tickle you until you remember. You seem to really like my paws here miguel.”

As you finished your teasing statement, you brought up your other hand. You had Miguel effectively trapped between your hands, the soft fur of the gloves nearly driving him to madness. Still, he refused to speak to you. His stubbornness drew out an idea from the back of your psyche, and you grinned once more as you opened your mouth to whisper.

“… and I can bring all your other friends too, maybe seeing Mr. Feather will help jog your memory.”

You chuckled as you heard Miguel gasp between his muffled giggles and titters. Finally you had reached a breakthrough.

“No! No no don’t-“

Miguel cut himself off, obviously mortified that he had been intimidated into talking by something so inconspicuous as a feather. His lips pressed together, forming a rather thin line. You pushed further, enjoying how the heat returned to his cheeks.

“So then you do remember me.”

Miguel swallowed, shutting his eyes. You leaned up, still rubbing the furred gloves on the sides of Miguel's neck.

You watched him nod, almost frantically so, as if he wanted to get the whole interaction over and done with.

You smiled, stopping your hands to once again cup Miguel's face in your palms. You tilted his head up to look at you, and you watched as he peeked at you through his eyelashes.

“What's my name?”

Miguel remained silent, chewing his bottom

Lip as his gaze fell to your hands. Examining how your gentle hold perfectly framed his cheeks.

Your mocking words were so cruel, yet your hands were so gentle and kind. The contradiction between the two made his head spin, and he had no choice but to keep his mouth shut.

“Go on, you can tell me. What's my name?”

A whine built itself up in Miguel’s throat, his hair was messy and the curls at the back of his neck splayed out as they were flattened on the couch cushions.

“I.. I just, ugh…”

You watched Miguel’s expression switch from a conflicted turmoil to a sort of sour expression. It was if he was cringing at even the concept of you being a “tickle monster”.

“Maybe if I…”

As you spoke, you removed your hands from Miguel’s face and began to ghost your fingers over the side of Miguel's neck. You dragged your index up and down his jugular and even up the shell of his ear. Simultaneously, your free hand began to gently scratch under his chin as if you would a cat.

Soft titters began to flow out from Miguel’s mouth once more, much less frantic than when you had been using the fur. His giggling almost seemed like it was pleasant, rather than hysterical.

“Now, I think it’s about time you say my name Miguel.”

Rather than squirm or thrash, Miguel simply let his head fall back onto the couch cushions, unintentionally giving your hands more room to wander. He drew his hands up, not to bat yours away, rather he simply clutched at the hem of your shirt. Miguel was seemingly only searching for an anchor, and not for the sensation to end.

Still, he remained silent.

You removed your hand from his chin, sneakily slipping it around his upper ribs before attacking. You spidered up and down, making sure to reach his underarm as well.

Miguel slammed his arms to his sides, only trapping your hand into his armpit. His hands withdrew from your shirt and he began trying to shield his torso.

You waited a few moments before spotting an opening, you swiftly removed your hand from his neck, zeroing in on the center of his stomach.

Miguel arched as you did so, the gentle spidering and pinching sending him into hysterics. You felt his legs kicking behind you again, realizing you had him in your clutches, your mouth moved faster than your brain.

“Tickle tickle tickle! Come on Miggy I don't have all day!”

Miguel had snorted at your incessant mocking. His hands gripped your wrists but once again he made no move to push you away. He shook his head once more, needing an outlet from the borderline overwhelming feeling.

“OKAY!-okay okay! Just get out of there!”

“Get out of where Miguel?”

You were so very close to showing him mercy, but he was simply too cute when he frantically sputtered out answers. The fingers wedged in his underarm sped up their wiggling motions, seeking to push Miguel into saying what you wanted to hear.

“My armpit! Gehet out of my armp-shock!”

Miguel threw his head back as you picked up the pace of your tickling motions, feet kicking wildly behind you now. It impressed you, the immense control that he needed to possess to wiggle about yet not push or buck you off. You caught yourself smiling once more at the notion.

“I’ll stop once you tell me what my name is.”

Your plan was so very close to ending perfectly, Miguel only had one last job. He needed to simply let go of the shame and embarrassment that he held within his heart. If only for a moment, he needed to let himself have fun and enjoy the childish closeness you two were sharing.

“Fine! Fine you’re the- the!”

Miguel cut himself off with another bout of quirky laughter, his fangs glistened in the soft light, and he shut his eyes, unable to look at you as he spoke.

“You’re the tickle monster!”

As the words left his lips, you watched as Miguel turned the reddest you had ever seen him. Your tickling slowed to a stop, your hands changing positions. You simply held Miguel’s shoulders as you leaned down to lay on his shoulder once more. Reaching up to run a furry hand through his hair.

His breathing was ragged, but even. You continued to soothe Miguel with your gentle petting, before whispering to him that you'd be right back.

You clambered off of Miguel, your feet connecting with the cold wooden floor. You quickly peeled off the gloves, dropping them on the table. You calmly strode into the kitchen, grabbing a glass before filling it with water. Your mind began to wander as you filled the glass. You had hoped you hadn’t gone too far.

Upon returning to the living room, Miguel had taken the initiative to sit himself up. He was still taking in breaths, but he seemed much more calm. However his hair was still quite messy, and his cheeks seemed to be stained with the color red.

“I brought you some water.”

You had nervously held out the glass, waiting for Miguel to take it. Doubt filled your mind, you began to worry that your impulse to make Miguel happy may have taken the opposite effect.

“Thank you.”

Miguel gently took the cup from your hand, taking slow sips as he tugged on your arm. Taking that as a cue to sit down next to him, you slowly lowered yourself onto the couch cushions.

After a few more slow sips, Miguel placed the glass in front of him, turning to you.

“That was insane. You are insane for that.”

Miguel smirked, genuine humor in his voice. Was this his attempt at being funny?

A chuckle formed in his throat as he shook his head wrapping a casual arm around your shoulder

you were rather startled at such contact, despite the occurrence of your tickle attack less than 5 minutes ago. But you leaned into the touch after a moment.

“You won't tell anyone, right?”

Miguel peered down at you with narrowed eyes, a rather skeptical expression adorned his face. He pulled you closer, semi forcing eye contact. He was so much different now than he was a few minutes ago, Confident, bold, intimidating.

“Of course not Miguel, I just did all that goofy stuff to make you smile.”

You grinned fondly, wiggling your body closer to his. As you did so, his hand that had been resting on your shoulder began to rub its thumb softly on the fabric of your shirt.

Miguel scoffed, turning his head away from you.

“Well I guess you succeeded then.”

Your eyes glittered with excitement, before you could really rationalize your thoughts, your arms wrapped around Miguel's torso. You giggled happily, nuzzling your cheek into the side of his chest.

“So you liked it? I knew you would!”

Joy and relief overwhelmed any sense of embarrassment or shame you harbored. You simply wanted to be close with Miguel.

Miguel only chuckled at your assumption, petting your hair and playfully rolling his eyes. He glanced at the time on his holo screen. It was quite late. Taking great care as to not jostle you, he slowly began to reach for the remote. Turning the television off, you two were cast in darkness.

Miguel layed back on the couch, watching as you nestled yourself deeper into his chest.

“Yeah.. I liked it.”

Mighel had made sure his whisper was soft enough that you would be unable to register what he said in your sleepy daze. He simply laid there, watching you breathe for a number of minutes, counting your breaths.

As the comforts of sleep coaxed him into unconsciousness, Miguel could only smile at the fact you went through all that trouble, just to make him happy.

He had to admit, you had succeeded.

——————————————————

Thanks so much for reading my fic! This was my longest one by far and horribly self indulgent. I hope you enjoyed!

[tickly-tufts]

Once Bitten, Twice Teased

finally letting miguel be a ler after four whole fics dedicated to wrecking him

ft. lee!peter cuz he’s earned it, and ler!mj cuz i love that for her <3

—

“You paralyzed my husband.”

“He deserved it.”

“Probably, but I’d like an explanation anyway.”

“He was annoying me…” Miguel paused. “…and said I had fangs like a kitty cat.”

It took everything in MJ not to laugh. The mental image was simply too good. Miraculously, she managed to hold back, though she did smile at Miguel’s pout.

“So, you bit him to prove a point?”

“The fangs are no joke,” Miguel defended. Then, sounding just a bit sheepish… “The venom will wear off in an hour.”

Whatever he expected MJ to say next, it wasn’t what she actually asked.

“How much can he feel while he’s stuck like this? Does the venom cause any numbness?”

“He can still feel everything… but this is a punishment. If you’re planning to-“

“That’s not what I mean.” Leaning in with a conspiratorial glint in her eye, MJ made her proposition. “How’d you like to help me get some payback?”

—

Peter’s face lit up when MJ entered the room, and if he’d been able, she knew he would’ve rushed her. Beyond the change in expression, however, he didn’t move a single muscle. Miguel had placed him in the center of their bed, arms laid neatly at his sides. Noticing the pillow under Peter’s head, MJ smiled. What a softie.

“How ya feelin’, Tiger?” She sauntered over, taking a seat right beside her husband.

“Migs is mean,” Peter pouted. “I can’t believe he actually bit me.”

“Well, you did make fun of his fangs. Not your brightest idea,” MJ countered lightly. Peering at his neck, she soon spotted the bite marks. “Want me to kiss it better?” she offered sweetly.

Peter couldn’t nod but his gaze turned hopeful, and MJ leaned down to hover over the marks. Her breath puffed against them, and Peter would’ve shivered, but his muscles simply refused to respond. He smiled when he felt MJ’s lips, soft and warm against his skin. Then she began peppering small kisses along his neck, and he instantly remembered that kisses could tickle.

“Hmph!” Peter stifled the urge to giggle. The situation was already embarrassing enough. At least MJ would be pulling back soon. He just needed to control himself until-

“AH!” he yelped when kissing became nibbling, right where Miguel had bitten him before. “W-Wait, Em- Nohoho!” he cracked when he realized her true intentions.

MJ paused a few seconds later, shifting to whisper in his ear. “Do you remember that time you strung me up in the living room, then decided to tease me until the webs dissolved?”

Oh. Oh no. Peter did remember. He remembered that evening quite fondly, actually. MJ had collapsed into his arms afterwards, thoroughly flushed and swearing revenge. Of course, Peter had laughed it off at the time, doubting she’d ever catch him that compromised. It would be another decade before Miguel found them… and now, he’d served Peter right up for MJ.

“You’ve got to tell me the full story later,” Miguel interjected, done hiding his presence. Peter gawked as MJ patted the other side of the bed, giving Miguel a peck once he was close enough.

“Have you two been plotting against me?!”

“No, I specifically bit you for being a nuisance. The plan was to leave you in here alone… but MJ came up with a better idea.”

MJ beamed at Miguel, then focused her attention back on Peter. “Now, let’s find out where you’re most sensitive…” Peter cringed as his past words were echoed back at him.

Her fingers grazed across his ribs first, nails easily felt even through his shirt. It really wasn’t that bad a spot, but Peter’s breath still hitched at the touch. He had no chance of resistance, mouth curling up as nails dragged down. The fact he couldn’t even try to turn away made him overly aware of his own nerves.

MJ went from his uppermost left rib all the way to the bottom, then wiggled her fingers on the way back up. It was ticklish enough to earn a few snickers, but nothing too dramatic yet. That was until Peter felt a dig on his right, squawking when the tickling crept between his ribs.

“Wait- Wahahait!”

Miguel did not wait, fingers burrowing in without hesitation.

Peter’s mind demanded he move, but all he could physically do was laugh. It only spiraled when MJ switched spots, pinching at his much more ticklish side. The squeal he couldn’t quite suppress didn’t escape either tormentor’s notice.

“Shitshitshit! Thahat’s sohoho unfahahahair!” Peter swore when Miguel’s claws traced down his other side.

Claws and nails… it was a deadly combination. Peter couldn’t say which side was worse. If he’d been able, he would’ve been wriggling from one to the other, indecisive and frenzied. Unfortunately, as things stood, he had no choice but to endure both together. Miguel scratched carefully along his right flank, while MJ raked ruthlessly at his left.

“Mehehean! You’re bohohoth so mehean!”

“Pobrecito,” Miguel replied.

“Oh, babe, you think this is mean? Just you wait,” MJ promised.

A nervous thrill shot straight through him. How wrecked would he be by the end of this? He’d never felt so uniquely defenseless, safe from real harm, but not from this. His sides were bad, but not terrible. What would happen when they found his actual weakness?

All these thoughts were quickly halted by MJ poking around his waist.

“Nonono- Dohohon’t!” Peter giggled uncontrollably.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re helpless,” MJ cooed, kneading his love handles. Her hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, bypassing his only means of defense. It tickled so much that Peter’s laughter pitched higher, which didn’t escape Miguel’s notice.

“Que precioso,” Miguel teased, knowing it was a phrase Peter would understand. Right on cue, Peter blushed, and Miguel smirked in satisfaction. It was the exact reaction he’d been seeking, after so many instances of Peter flustering him.

Revenge garnished with extra affection, easily shared among three.

Peter flushed even further when MJ proceeded to lift his shirt. She pushed the hem all the way to his chest, exposing his pale abdomen. Just like that, he was on display for his equally gorgeous wife and boyfriend… and then insecurity reared its head, reminding him of his current physique.

Objectively, it was absurd. They'd both seen his gut before, and he was hardly one for bashfulness nowadays… but still, to have all their attention focused right there, while he couldn’t even cover his face? Apparently that was just a bit too much. Peter didn’t tense up, mainly because he couldn’t, yet his partners still noticed the shift in his mood. Of course they did... observant as ever. He shut his eyes to avoid examining their expressions.

There was a beat, then finally movement, but not from the direction he'd been expecting. Instead of MJ, sweet and familiar... it was Miguel whose lips brushed bare skin first. Peter's eyes shot back open and MJ caught his gaze, understanding reflected in her own. Then she glanced at Miguel, her lips quirking, and Peter’s attention jumped to him.

His heart skipped when he found Miguel staring, intense and analytical. Then it dropped as Miguel inhaled deeply, before blowing the most devastatingly ticklish of raspberries.

Peter screeched, barely calming when Miguel ultimately switched to nibbling. The tips of Miguel’s fangs grazed against his belly, pressing down too gently to break any skin. That was when MJ joined back in, too, peppering tickly kisses wherever Miguel wasn't. Peter giggled, then released a squeak when she poked at the softest part of his stomach.

If Peter had been a luckier man, the pair might've concluded around there. He rarely was, though, so of course they weren't done. MJ's next statement sealed his fate.

"We should lift his arms," she suggested to Miguel, and Peter nearly broke into a cold sweat. He didn't say a word as they guided his limbs. Miguel raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic silence.

"Hold on, are you nervous?" he had to ask, curious amusement coloring his tone.

"Wha- No! I'm just... getting tired?" Not entirely false, but not convincing either.

Indirectly calling his bluff, MJ reached out a hand, watching Peter's eyes. He anxiously tracked her slow approach, worsening the suspense for himself. Abruptly, Miguel inched forward, and Peter would've flinched if he'd been able. There was no way to track both of them.

Not that it mattered, once the tickling restarted.

"NOHOT THEHEHERE!" Peter screeched after a swear unbecoming of the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman. MJ's nails scribbled at his left underarm, while Miguel's thumb massaged his right hollow. “DOHON'T- I CAHAHAN’T!" He wanted to thrash, but he couldn't even manage a twitch. "PLEHEHEHEASE!” It was a maddening experience. Being tied up had nothing on this.

If only he could lower his arms, or twist away, or struggle at all. It didn't help that he was just too damn ticklish in that spot. Miguel and MJ exploited his weakness in distinctly different ways, and thus it didn't take long at all for the contrasting sensations to overwhelm him.

As soon as tears rolled down Peter’s cheeks, they both pulled back to let him breathe.

“Alright there, Tiger?” MJ pet his hair, a hint of worry entering her voice.

“…Could I get some water?”

His partners relaxed, and Miguel nodded. “Be right back.” He returned a minute later with a bottle and towel, first wiping Peter’s face, then sitting him up on the pillows, then carefully lifting the bottle to his lips.

“Thanks,” Peter said after a long drink. “You two are weirdly diabolical.” He glanced at MJ. “Especially you.”

“Just means you have a type,” MJ countered smoothly.

"Hot and sadistic?"

"You said it, not me~"

And then before his brain could stop his mouth-

"Just as ticklish, too." Why would he say that.

Miguel's eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You know, we’ve still got time before the venom wears off.”

“Doesn’t seemed like he’s really learned his lesson, huh?”

Peter squeaked when something soft caressed his ear. MJ had a feather… no, make that two.

“W-When did you get those?!” He watched helplessly as she handed the second feather to Miguel.

“Aww, did you think I came unprepared? I knew you’d talk back enough to earn this~”

And then both feathers were twirling inside his ears, and he could only squeal for mercy.

[hunting4fluff]

Spider Bite

A fanfic requested by @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss, the first out of 2 promises! Sorry for the inactivity, I recently started college and it's completely wiped the floor with me. Anyways, enjoy!

Fluff fic, 1,328 words Lee!Reader Ler!Miguel O'Hara CWs: none Finally, a day of reprieve. 

You had been working hard all week to ensure the increasing anomalies in base were kept at bay and to say it was tiring would be a gross understatement. It had been alarm after rift after alarm, the blaring practically burned into your eardrums by now. You’d be lucky if you didn’t get tinnitus. 

What does anyone do after a long, thankless week of being on call? Why, treat themself of course!

You had just entered the bustling cafeteria with countless spider-people swishing on webs and standing in lines to get their fill when you noticed a slight shift out the corner of your eye. Your spider senses weren’t tingling, but people were definitely moving out of the way which only made the shift in the air more unsettling. Whipping your head to stare at the commotion head on, you can’t help but smile at the situation. It was just Miguel.

People knew when he was in one of his bad moods- usually he would be trying to make small talk with certain groups, grab someone’s attention when he had a small comment about their work, but never really driving people away or chatting much. Today he looked absolutely foul, glaring off into the void as he grabbed a to-go box with a burger and slinking off to his office once again. It was always a good idea to leave him be when he was in one of these funks, but the look on his face stuck around long enough in your mind to make you want to check in on him.

You grabbed a to-go box for yourself and opened a portal, bouncing down onto the platform of Miguel’s ‘office’. 

“What.” He grumbled out, hearing the soft thud and careful padding of your feet as you approached him. He saved his sharper tone for people he was less fond of, for now he just sounded tired.

“You’re in a fun mood today.” You point out, the playful smile evident in your voice as you hoist yourself up to sit on an empty spot on his desk. He spared you a glance and huffed, popping a fry into his mouth. “Aren’t you off work? Why are you still here?” He was avoiding the not-quite-question, so you of course answer then ask again.

“I wanted a meal and hopefully a conversation. What’s wrong?”

Miguel looked over at you before shaking his head with a defeated smile and rolling his eyes.

“Dios mío, you’re persistent.” He snorted, eating another fry. “Nothing, I just have one of those- what are the kids calling it? ‘RBF’s?”

You rolled your eyes at that, smiling as Miguel chuckled to himself.

“Yeah something like that.” You comment. Maybe he wasn’t in as bad of a mood as you thought.

“But since you’re here,” Miguel looked back at you, placing his food down in front of him and spinning his chair to face you. “I don’t think we officially completed your onboarding.” You blinked in surprise, quirking a brow. “Miguel, I’ve been here for three months.” You reminded him slowly, staring at him as if he had just lost his mind.

“Yes, I know that, but we skipped over a few details in your ‘canon events’ folder that I didn’t notice until a few hours ago. Lyla finally got to that part of the scan. Nada.”

Right. Of course, that made sense. You nodded your head and looked at him, waiting to continue. “Won’t take long. So, do you remember what kind of spider bit you?” He started, swiping up a screen and pulling up footage of your first canon event. The video was clearly inconclusive of the spider, the origin of it being unknown and making it harder to trace back to a definitive source.  You remembered the spider crawled under your shirt and bit your side, leaving a nasty mark the first night before you had actually gotten your powers- but you had no clue what it looked like.

“I… dunno. It’s been a while and I crushed that poor guy when I was bitten.” You shook your head. 

“Where?” It was an odd sounding question coming from Miguel, but his brain had worked faster than his words when it came spilling out. “Usually spider-people are bitten on the back of their hand, smacking it off for those who crush it. I would have been visible falling off your hand, but I can’t see it anywhere.“ He explained.

“Oh! Uh, somewhere on my side, like right here…” You gestured vaguely to where you remembered the spider biting- well, you remembered which side at least. Your left one.

“Alright… not super helpful…” He mumbled in thought, only for you to yelp in protest as he grabbed your side and held some sort of tool near it.

“Hey!” 

“Hold still, I just need a quick scan.” He ordered. Still you squirmed. It tickled. Miguel shook his head and grabbed your side again, this time earning a short giggle. He stopped in his tracks and looked up at you, processing what had just happened as you stared back at him tensely. You only had about two seconds to even stare before he had sat down his tool and scooped you up into his arms with a playful grin.

“Ticklish, are we?” He teased, one hand scribbling lightly up and down your side with the edges of his nails. The movement earned only more squirming from you as well as fresh peals of giggles as you kicked and wriggled in his grasp. His fingers skittered up to your ribs, gently tweaking the bottommost one before crawling up to lightly poke just below your underarm and crawl down again and it left you howling with laughter.

“M-miguel!” You cried out, squirming harder in your ticklish frenzy and almost managing to writhe free before he shifted his arm to wrap around your waist and start tickling your side. You doubled over with laughter, kicking out in front of you and pushing at his arm all the while his other hand came up to gently scribble at the side of your neck.

“You know, normally I wouldn’t be so childish, but I’ve been needing a little pick me up this week.” Miguel teased. You bunched up your shoulders, peals of giggles pouring out of you just as his touch began to slow down. He let you rest as you slumped in his grip, residual giggles bubbling out as you caught your breath.

“I’m a little surprised you weren’t laughing this hard as that spider crawled to your side.” He pointed out, emphasizing his point by poking two fingers into your side a couple times and sending a jolt through you.

“Ehehe- quit it!” You whined at his teasing, your cheeks growing flush as you squirmed again. Miguel chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, what? Quit this?” He began gently pinching your side up and down, pulling fresh laughter from you as you nodded your head.

“Yes- yehes! Quit thahat!” You managed to squeak out. His fingers remained pinched on your side but had stilled for the moment, but for some reason that was worse. The anticipation left you shaking and giggling, waiting for when he would start up again.

“Quit that…?” He prompted, his voice dripping with amusement as you awaited whatever fate become you.

“Please!” You spat out and Miguel relented, patting your side and finally releasing you.

“Certainly.” He snickered. You turned around and rubbed your sides, only to be greeted by Miguel’s grinning face- you can’t remember the last time he looked this happy, or even the last time he smiled. He put his hands up in faux surrender, shaking his head.

“I’m done, I swear.” He assured, and you relaxed a bit. “Let’s just finish our lunch.” He offered, sitting back down and picking up his to-go box in a gesture of good faith. Your food was still warm and it tasted delightful.

[sunstone-smiles]

Measuring Mishap

(I’m sorry that the picture is so blurry-)

Author’s note: Another fic with Miguel after I said I would only make one? I couldn’t help myself. Can you blame me? Lol! I hope you enjoy!

Series: Across the Spider-Verse

Characters: Miguel O’Hara and Lyla

Word count: 2,242

Summary: Lyla is assisting Miguel by measuring him for a new spider suit, but a small mishap occurs in the process that leads the AI to instead discover a playful piece of information about him that can make him laugh.

—

It’s hard enough tearing Miguel away from his work, let alone asking the man to stand still. He always has to be active with something, whether it’s skimming through files, capturing anomalies, or making sure that everything in the Spider-Society is in working order, so taking a break is not one of his strong points.

Miguel huffs as he stands in his spider suit on a short, cylindrical platform, his arms crossed. Above him, two robotic limbs hang from a steel frame like the strings of a marionette. A yellow strip of measuring tape is held in the metal fingers of the robotic hands as the contraption measures Miguel from shoulder to shoulder.

Miguel taps his foot on the ground and exhales an impatient sigh. “Lyla, how much longer is this going to take?” he turns to the AI in question, who’s floating beside his head.

“Just a few more measurements and you’ll be good to go,” Lyla taps away on a digital screen in front of her. Matching her own hand movements in sync, a robotic hand taps at the air alongside her while Lyla makes her note. “What’s the rush anyway? You don’t have any meetings scheduled for later.”

“I just want to get back to business, that’s all.”

“Business?” Lyla hovers backwards, almost offended. “I’m measuring you for a new suit to enhance your abilities so you can catch anomalies with more ease,” she demonstrates by controlling the robotic limbs to take Miguel’s arm away from its crossed state, then measuring it from shoulder to wrist, “It doesn’t get more business-y than that.”

“You know what I mean, Lyla,” Miguel shakes his head. “Work, reports, surveillance, making sure the anomalies are properly contained—instead of standing still like this. That kind of business.”

Lyla pulls the measuring tape and the mechanical arms away to type another note. “Yeah, I get it. But doesn’t it feel nice to take a break every once and a while? It definitely gets you away from those screens you always slouch over.” She throws a teasing grin at him and tries to straighten out his back with the robotic hands, like she’s posing an action figure. “I mean, just look at what it’s doing to your posture!”

“My posture is fine,” Miguel grumbles. He shifts his shoulders. “I only feel like every single second that I’m away from my hands-on work, another multiverse is potentially being swallowed whole.”

“Ugg, you’re being dramatic again. And also mathematically incorrect. On average we have three anomalies each day, meaning that every twenty-eight thousand eight hundred seconds another multiverse is in danger, not every single second.” She smirks down at him, pleased with her correction.

Miguel rolls his eyes. “Can we just get back to the task at hand, please?” He starts to fidget in his spot, like stretching out his arms to keep himself occupied, yet he’s moving around too much for Lyla to continue measuring him. The AI temporarily hangs the strip of measuring tape on the metal frame above them.

“I’m just saying that you can benefit from loosening up for a bit,” Lyla’s ramblings begin to wander as she tries to position Miguel with the mechanical arms to stand still on the platform, but she’s not paying complete attention to where the robot hands are drifting, “You know, like taking a moment to de-stress. It wouldn’t hurt to try—”

Lyla is suddenly cut off by an uncharacteristic yelp emanating from Miguel. Miguel snatches the robotic wrists away from his sides and fires a glare at Lyla, “Watch where you’re putting these things!” 

Processing the aftermath of the yelp, the AI quickly deduces that while she wasn’t paying attention, she must have accidentally squeezed his sides. 

“Oh! Sorry, sorry!” Lyla regains control of the robotic limbs. She properly guides them back towards his torso, but Miguel flinches away, as if on reflex. Lyla tilts her head in curiosity. She shrugs it off and maneuvers the arms close to his sides to hold him straight, but again, Miguel jumps away without her touching him, as if he was suddenly anxious of the mechanical hands.

She tries once more, but every time the robotic hands get close, he recoils and restarts her progress. Lyla narrows her eyes at him and pouts. “Miguel, hold still,” she tries to catch him without him flinching away, almost like corralling a startled horse into a stable. She attempts to grab at his arm, “I can’t get accurate measurements if you keep—”

“Hey!” Miguel tenses up with a squeak when she mistakenly pinches at his ribs. 

Lyla pulls the robot hands away, smiling with intrigue at the sound Miguel just made. “What was that?” she giggles.

Miguel tightens his arms closer to his chest, almost like he wanted to sink into himself. Miguel clears his throat. He adverts his eyes from Lyla's gaze. “It was—”

“Nothing?” she cuts him off with a sly smile, “I thought you would say that. Analyzing what just occurred now.”

“Lyla wait, don’t-

The pixels of Lyla’s heart-shaped glasses flash twice. “Analyzing complete. I detected a hint of laughter in your voice. And came to the conclusion that…” Lyla pauses as her data is pieced together. “No…” her mouth widens along with her eyes. “No way!”  her voice heightens with excitement. “You’re—!”

Miguel barks, “Don’t say it!”

“You’re ticklish!”

Miguel face palms with a growling sigh, flinching just hearing that word. “You said it…”

Lyla giggles excitedly, almost squealing like a fangirl. “How am I just learning about this now?! I need to know all the juicy details! Like, where are you the most ticklish?” She teasingly moves the robot arm with wiggling fingers towards his stomach. Miguel quickly grabs the wrist of the contraption before it can make contact.

“L-Lyla! This is not the time for these unnecessary activities!” he shoves the metal limb away from him.

“Nah, I think this is a perfect time! What you need is a good laugh!” She commands a robot limb to grab Miguel’s left wrist above his head, like she was innocently going to measure his arm for his new suit. “So, are you ticklish here?” Lyla quickly says and flutters her fingers to control the robot’s fingers to do the same into his underarm. Miguel sucks in a gasp and swiftly yanks his arm down, bringing it close to his body and clinging tightly to his own wrist.

“Hey!” Miguel snarls towards the AI, but Lyla had already zoomed behind him and switched to his other shoulder.

“Or here?” Lyla wiggles the chilled robotic fingers into the side of his neck. Miguel instantly scrunches up his shoulders and growls to hold back any further reaction to the tingly scratches. Trying to fight back, he attempts to nab the robot hand out of the air, but Lyla promptly dodges herself and the hands out of the way and behind him.

“Or how about here!” Lyla slips both robot hands into Miguel’s underarms from behind, striking like a snake. Miguel yelps and arches his back from the surprise, immediately clamping both of his arms to his sides and snarling to cover up any giggles that need to be stifled. 

“L-Lyla!” Miguel barely chokes back an audible giggle from slipping through while trying to squirm from her grasp. His mouth twitches on and off with a smile that shows off his fangs and his frame begins to lurch forward, like he wants to curl up into a ball, the longer he holds his laughter. 

“Come on!” Lyla exclaims from behind, “Stop hiding your laughter! Let me hear it!”

Miguel has to hold strong. Who knows what data-collecting Lyla can do with one of his giggly reactions if she gets her hands on it. She of course wouldn’t do anything that could hurt him, but the flustering earful of teases that he’ll hear afterwards is enough to keep himself from giving in to the easy route. Miguel faces this like a challenge.

He growls through his fangs like a big cat fending off a stronger force. “Absolutely n-not! Aye!” he squeaks when Lyla moves the mechanical hands down to both of his sides, clawing into the vulnerable area. Miguel throws his arms around himself in defense, his smile turning more wobbly by the second as he tries to hold back the giddy bouncing of giggles jumping on pogo sticks in his belly.

“Ah ha! Getting closer! I just have to get past your stubbornness!” Lyla smiles and moves one of the robot hands towards his ribs, teasingly scratching at a spot between the curved bones through the material of his suit. Miguel jolts and snickers start to spill out through hisses bypassing his fangs. He squeezes one arm to his side while the other tries to pry the robotic wrist away from wiggling into his ribs. She’s getting closer to breaking through the dam of his laughter and she knows it.

“Knock it ohohoff!” a giggle slips through Miguel’s defenses. He’s doomed. Lyla grins. Now is the moment she’s been waiting for.

Lyla’s glasses flash when she sees the opening she was planning in her sight. The other robotic hand by Miguel’s side whirs with Lyla’s control, then strikes directly at his tummy, swiping its clawed fingers back and forth like a sponge. “Gotcha now, Miguel!”

“GAH! Lylahahahaha!” Miguel finally bursts into robust laughter. He stumbles backwards, nearly falling, but Lyla places the palm of the second robot hand on the center of his back to stabilize him. However, although he’s still standing, his wriggling torso is caught in between the clawed hand vibrating at his tummy and the one stabilizing him. He throws his giggling head forward with a huge, fanged smile on his face, then grabs at the robotic wrist in an attempt to tug away the mischievous machine hand at his stomach. “Dahahamn it!” Miguel shouts through his laughter, knowing that Lyla has come out victorious. One of the strongest spider-men has been defeated by his own AI with a little bit of tickling.

“There’s that laugh I was looking for!” Lyla smiles along with Miguel. “Why did you have to go and hide it? Now I have to make up for all the laughter I missed!” Seeing another advantage to tease him, Lyla scoops up both of Miguel’s wrists in one robotic hand and pulls his arms out in front of him. 

“I’ll take those, thank you,” she beams above him. She then uses the unoccupied robotic hand to reach the ticklish places she tried before, now that the gates that were holding back his laughter have erupted.

Miguel squeals and jolts with laughter as the free mechanical hand scritches and scribbles at the rest of his torso. Lyla swiftly switches from spot to spot, like a scratch to his ribs, a squeeze to his sides, a scribble or two to his belly and underarms. She pokes around his whole torso, sending Miguel into a squirming, giggling frenzy. 

“Lylahahahaha!!! Quihihihit it!” Miguel attempts to tug back his arms as his joyful laughter fills the room. He releases a snort, then buries his face in his shoulder, trying to hold on to any dignity he has left. 

“No wonder you couldn’t hold still! You’re just that ticklish!” Lyla giggles at Miguel’s reaction. “Ironically though, I’m still able to get some measurements from you. Of where you’re the most ticklish, that is, which I determine to be your belly! Your laughter is zero point five decibels higher in that spot than the rest of your tickle spots! Watch!” Lyla then takes the opportunity to return to scribbling at his stomach, causing Miguel to squeak and increase the volume of his laughter, just as expected.

“LYLA!” Miguel calls out her name again in an attempt to scold her, even though his voice is currently laced with silly sounding laughter, “Thahahahat’s enohohohough!!!”

“Aww, so soon? But alright, I gotcha,” Lyla smiles and releases his wrists. Miguel instantly wraps his arms around himself, panting as he catches his breath from the tickle attack.

Lyla floats over to his shoulder. “See? Now wasn’t that fun?”

Miguel huffs out a growl. He glares at Lyla out of the corner of his eye. “That was NOT fun!”

“Say what you want Miguel,” Lyla shrugs with a lingering, all-knowing smile on her face, “but I can read that your body language is much more relaxed than it was before.”

Miguel opens his mouth to counter her, but he stops himself. He looks away from her with a defeated scowl. A small blush heats in his cheeks. He, unfortunately, can’t argue with her data about him feeling more relaxed.

Lyla hovers back to his other side to grab the measuring tape that she had previously hung on the contraption's metal frame. “Now, let’s get back to business. I still need to finish measuring you for real.”

Miguel flinches away from her, reflexively bringing his arms close to his body for split second defense. “There’s more?!” he frantically questions.

The AI chuckles at his flustered reaction. “Hehe, relax Miguel. I promise I won't tickle you on purpose,” she holds out a reassuring, open palm. “But you better hold still this time,” she ends her sentence with a lighthearted smirk. 

Needless to say, Miguel fully understands that he should listen to her advice, but at least the short break in the middle of their work wasn’t a total waste of time.

[amazingmsme]

The Boo Brothers

AN: Late, I know, but class doesn’t get out til 9. This prompt was really fun to write! Peter & Miguel are really goofy & I just love them. How you enjoy day 10!

Peter B. Parker was a class A goofball. He liked playing games and being silly, but most importantly, he liked making people laugh and have some fun. And he was damn good at it.

Halloween always put him in a bit of a spunky mood, and he felt inspired to cause a little mischief. Maybe the chill in the air put a spring in his step, or the fun and spooky atmosphere reminded him of his love of lighthearted pranks. Whatever it was, he felt the need to pull one over on someone. He was walking down the hall when he passed an open door and saw the usual spider-gang hanging out in the wreck room: perfect.

The idea popped up so suddenly and without any preamble, that it nearly startled Peter. But he shoved his hands into his robe pockets and casually strolled in, going along with it as if he'd had this plan all along. He had a natural commitment to any bit tossed his way the likes of which you have never seen.

That is not to say that the others don't know when he's doing a bit. Quite the contrary. It is rather obvious when Peter begins some long winded ruse, but everyone is too interested in where he's going with it to put an end to it.

He flopped his right hand around in his pocket, wiggling fingers, anything he could to make it look like something was caught in there. Pavitr was the first to take notice, doing a double take when he noticed the frantic movement of his pocket and stared with wide eyes.

"Dude, what's going on with your pocket? Did you catch a squirrel or something?" he asked, drawing the rest of their attention to Peter, and now they all wanted to know what the hell he had in his pocket. Peter played along.

"Heh, no. I wish it were that simple," he said in a serious tone. He schooled his features, lunging a trapped hand at Gwen, who happened to be the closest. She squealed and jumped back as Peter reigned in his arm.

"What the hell Peter?" she asked, cheeks faintly flushed. He did his best to act apologetic.

"I'm sorry, but that's why I came to see you," he said, clutching onto his right wrist with his other hand, forcing it to stay inside the pocket. They all stared at him with confused looks.

"I'm sorry, what?" Gwen asked, arms crossed. Peter rolled his eyes, as if annoyed he had to explain himself.

"Um, look, I'll just cut to the chase. Ghosts and demons and stuff are cool now, right? And you guys are all pretty cool kids, so you're keeping with the trends-" he rambled. Miles furrowed his brows in worry and utter cluelessness, looking to Hobie for any indication of what the actual fuck he was talking about. Hobie arched a brow and shrugged, sporting an amusedly confused smirk. "I guess what I'm trying to ask is, do you guys know anything about possession?"

Gwen scoffed. "You think you're possessed?" she asked skeptically.

“Absolutely! And I’d appreciate it if you took this seriously,” he said, really hamming it up. “I mean, if you don’t believe me, just look!” He “released” his hand from the robe pocket and it made another grab at Gwen, this time being successful. He latched onto her sides and squeezed, sending her into a fit of giggles.

“You liahahar!” she squealed, doubling over as Peter scribbled over her tummy.

“Nu uh!” Peter insisted, continuing the ticklish assault. “See, it happened after MJ got me last night. My hands have been restless ever since,” he lamented, working up Gwen’s sides. “I’m afraid I’m possessed by some kind of tickle monster!”

“You ahahare not!” she denied. Hobie shrugged, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“Don’t know mate, seems legit to me,” he teased. Peter smirked himself and turned on the tallest teen, making him stumble back with a yelp. He managed to wrestle his arms above his head, alternating scribbling in each pit.

“I just can’t help who I attack! Sorry Hobie, I really can’t help it!”

“Shuhut it you bahahastard!”

“Hey, I’m just as much a victim in this as you are!”

Miguel stood in the doorway, dumbfounded, and crossed his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat, grabbing their attention.

“Is there a reason you’re torturing them, or are you just bored?” he asked in a neutral tone, arching a brow.

“Peter’s possessed by a tickle monster!” Pavitr supplied. Miguel couldn’t roll his eyes hard enough.

“Is he now?” he asked, seemingly uninterested. “Well I guess I’ll leave you all to it.” He turned to leave and felt a hand around his wrist yank him back. He stumbled a few feet, being caught by Peter from behind.

“Sorry bud, but I can’t help myself right now,” he said sympathetically as Miguel hissed and thrashed in his hold. He tried to fight back the deep laughter that wanted to spill out when Peter started kneading his hips.

“G-go toho hehehell,” he giggled out through clenched teeth. Peter gasped.

“Well that’s rude!” Peter exclaimed, one hand roaming down to squeeze his thighs. Miguel burst into loud belly laughs, shoving weakly at Peter’s hands. He made a show of taking a deep breath before blowing a raspberry against Miguel’s neck.

A string of curses gave way to helpless cackles and snorts, especially when Peter started nibbling. “Ohohokahay, oho fuhuhuck thahat’s bad! Peter!” Miguel scolded through hysterics, and needless to say everyone in the room was thoroughly amused.

Peter backed off with a smug grin. “You alright?” Miguel stood there, catching his breath and shot a harsh glare at him. He also shot him the bird. If it was even possible, Peter grinned wider.

“What?” Miguel snapped, though it wasn’t as harsh as you’d expect.

“I bit you. You’re possessed now, it’s how it works,” he explained, oh so casually. Miguel scoffed, furrowed his brows, doing anything to try to appear not amused.

“Bullshit.”

“No, it’s true! It had to be how MJ transferred it to me!” he explained frantically.

“You’re really gonna blame your wife?” Miguel quipped. Pavitr barked out a laugh before covering his mouth with his hand.

“You’re missing the point. You’re possessed by the ghost too now,” he said, acting as though it was grave news, but the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at Miguel said otherwise.

“Oh so it’s a ghost now?” he asked, not even bothering to hide his amusement anymore. “Well then, it’s a good thing they aren’t real.” He walked to the doorway, but only made it about halfway.

Miguel suddenly doubled over in pain, a dramatic and very convincing groan emitting from his throat. They all watched on in concern as he jerked upright, arching his back. He unshed his claws with a dramatic motion of his hands. A deep, low chuckle left his lips as he slowly turned towards the group.

“Well well well, it would seem that Miguel is no longer with us,” he said in a threatening tone. He caught Peter’s gaze and flashed a sharp grin, winking. He addressed the rest of them, “But he wanted me to tell you: run.” He really didn’t have to tell them twice.

They scattered like mice, and Peter easily caught Miles in the rush. He was giggling before he even touched him, but the laughter doubled once he dug into his ribs.

Miguel was able to snatch Pavitr by the collar of his shirt, yanking him back and into his clutches. He clawed at his belly and Pav immediately let out a giggly shriek.

They carried on like this for some time, playing this odd game of chase. Every once in a while, Peter would glance at Miguel and see the way he was smiling and actually laughing along with the rest of them.

Maybe Peter should get “possessed” more often.

[lokust]

For the fox requests, ler Miguel and lee hobie, where hobie has been annoying him all day so he wrecks him?

I love your work btw

“And you… I tried to ignore you but I just can’t.”

“Just pretend I’m not even here”.

Hobie had made that sound much easier than it was- much much easier than it could ever be, and Miguel was starting to question how anyone in the Spider Society had managed to stay sane with the Spider Punk around.

“I just don’t get it, Peter. I mean.. the kid’s insane. All he does is cause problems for me- and not in the same way Miles causes problems, no. It’s worse. Hobie does it on purpose.”, Miguel sighed, leaning back in his chair as he finished his rant to Peter B, who was… definitely listening as he crocheted Mayday a rather adorable hat.

“Oh, come on, Miguel”, Peter started, furrowing his eyebrows as he concentrated on the difficult pattern he was trying to create, “The kids really aren’t that bad. I mean, sure, Hobie can be a handful, but most of the time he’s trying to get a rise out of you”, he said as he put down the crochet hook, standing up and examining the little hat with a content smile. “And besides…” he started to leave the room, stopping to stand beside Miguel for only a moment, reaching a hand out “You make it really easy”.

It was that damn spider-sense that Miguel didn’t have that left him vulnerable and had him squirming from the prodding of Peter’s fingers against his side, though they were gone in an instant as Peter left the room. Still, the blush that covered his cheeks as he grumbled was very much there as he huffed and tried to shake off the residual tingles.

“Stupid fuckin… ticklish spider people”, he muttered to himself as he sat, considering what to do about Hobie’s attitude. He stayed like that for quite a few minutes, fiddling with a pen as he considered how he’d ever manage to get Hobie to just listen for once, but after a while, he’d lost his train of thought. He found himself thinking about anything and everything that could worm its way into his mind, and he’d never admit to the small, rare smile that tugged at his lips as he thought of how Peter previously poked and prodded at his sides.

Suddenly, Miguel snapped himself out of it with a faint blush dusting his cheeks, his eyes widening as that small smile turned to a smirk as he had what he considered a phenomenal idea.

“..Ohoh… I’m gonna get that little shit so good.”

__________________

“Aye, look who’s here!”, Hobie said as he swiveled in his chair at the sound of an opening door, “What’s got you smilin’ like that, bruv? Never seen you happy before a day in my life- it was the only thing I liked about you, really”

Miguel’s smile dropped instantly, his top lip curling as he became irritated already, but he took a deep breath and pulled himself together as he remembered Peter’s words.

“He’s only trying to get a rise out of you.”

‘Right..”, Miguel thought as he took another breath, ‘He’s looking for a reaction’

‘…and he’s about to get one.’

Really, that was the only reason Hobie went out of his way to aggravate Miguel. He knew how easy it was to piss the guy off.

Miguel huffed as Hobie simply sat there, his legs propped on the table as he looked at his phone with a smug grin. There was silence for a few moments until.. thwip.

Hobie’s eyebrows furrowed as he realized his arms were stuck to his sides, his phone still in hand as he struggled against the orange webs, “Wh- are you serious? Real fuckin funny, mate. Now, let me go”, he demanded in an irritated tone as he sat up straight.

Miguel clicked his tongue as he approached the punk in a slow, almost stalkerish manner. “You know, Hobie. I struggle to deal with all of you kids. I mean, Gwen doesn’t listen to me, Pav is just all over the place all the time, and Miles… well, he’s just Miles.”

Hobie glared at the older spider as he spoke whilst he paced back and forth.

“I’ve managed so far with those three, but you… I had no idea what I was gonna do with you. I thought about it and thought about it for quite some time. You see, Hobie, you’re nothing like the other kids, and I respect you for that, but I had no idea how to work with you. You have nothing in common with them…”, Miguel placed his hands on the back of the chair, leaning down a bit, “Or so I thought… then I remembered the one tiny little thing that all spider people have in common…”.

Hobie swore he could hear Miguel grinning, but still, he sat there, completely unamused by Miguel’s little speech. “Is that supposed to scare me, old man? I’m not afraid of you. I ain’t got no reason to be afraid of you- or anyone for that matter. Now, get me out of these fuckin wEBS- ACK!”.

Hobie’s eyes widened for just a moment as he tried to twist to the left upon feeling one single claw prod at his side. He swiveled a bit in the chair to look at Miguel, who he could see now was wearing a shit eating grin. Hobie’s face turned to one of obvious irritation as he tugged harder at the webs, trying his best to get out of them. “Don’t even fuckin try it, mate. I swear to god I’ll- nngh! S-Stop that!”, he squeaked again as he felt a claw prod at his other side now

Miguel hummed, a triumphant grin on his face as he continued to give his speech. “See, to get to you, I just had to use the one thing that gets to every spider person”. Finally, he reached down and dig five claws into each of Hobie’s sides, “and you’re just as sensitive as the rest of us~”.

Hobie clenched his eyes shut, tightening his fists in an attempt to ease the horribly ticklish sensation. He was finding it harder and harder to fight the giggles bubbling in his throat. “You- You ohold bastard! Quihit it!”, he attempted to bark the words, but they came out through broken, poorly suppressed laughter.

Miguel squeezed and clawed at Hobie’s sides that were somewhat protected by the thin t-shirt he was wearing. But as he realized Hobie was doing a rather good job at holding back, the older hummed and tickled his way down to Hobie’s hips, finding the hem of his shirt and worming his fingers underneath it.

As Hobie continued to struggle against the webs, his eyes snapped open when he felt those claws against the bare skin of his hips. He jerked violently, squealing as he twisted his hips “NO- Nono nohoho! Fuhuhuck you, get AWAHAY FROM THEHERE!”.

Miguel seemed almost taken aback as the floodgates of desperate, ticklish laughter seemed to open suddenly. “Get away from the hips, huh? That’s pretty interesting. I thought all spider people had the same ti- uh… sensitive spots”, he said, blushing as he stammered over the t-word. “But you continue to prove me wrong…”

As badly as he wanted to, Hobie couldn’t keep himself from laughing as Miguel squeezed his hips rapidly, occasionally wiggling his fingers against the hipbone, “NohoHOHO! Fuhuck you! St-STOHOP IHIT YOU OLD FUHUCK!”, he twisted his hips as much as the webs allowed him to, occasionally arching his back in an attempt to get away, but those claws seemed to be attached.

Miguel hissed a bit through his teeth, Hobie’s insults certainly not hitting as hard as the poor boy laughed himself to death “Old fuck, huh? You know, you really need to watch your language, Hobie. Maybe I can fix that too”, Miguel teased, his method changing from rapid squeezing and wiggling to quick scratches and spiders against the punk’s hipbones.

Miguel really couldn’t care less about the kid’s language, he just wanted to tease Hobie.

Hobie’s laughter raised in both pitch and volume as his thrashing became frantic. He knew his hips were ticklish, but he’d never in his life been tickled like this and those fucking claws were driving him mad. “NNGH- StahaHAP! Shihit that tihIHICKLES!”.

Miguel huffed out a laugh as he laid off that particular spot, deciding to worm his claws up to Hobie’s sides very carefully as not to scratch him. Hobie’s laughter became less hysterical instantly, though it was still obviously a very ticklish spot.

“Mmm, sorry, kid. If you want me to stop, you gotta apologize for all the trouble you’ve caused, and then maybe.. I’ll let you go”, Miguel said, smiling like a Cheshire cat as he gently scratched at one side while digging into the other relentlessly.

Hobie hiccuped as he shook his head in response to Miguel’s words, “F-Fahahat chance, m-ATE! NOHOT THE HIPS AGAIN, FUHUCK!”. His laughter was full of little squeaks and hiccups as Miguel’s claws descended to his hips again.

“Yeahhh, that’s not gonna cut it”, Miguel said with a sigh as one hand squeezed from Hobie’s hips up to his sides while the other squeezed from his sides down to his hips before they swapped, keeping Hobie in a horribly ticklish frenzy. “Come on~ all you gotta say is one little word and you’re free! Unless… unless you don’t want me to stop~”, he teased, smirking as he continued to tickle at a steady pace.

Hobie’s eyes widened at the implication, and he didn’t even wanna get into why it made him blush so goddamn much, but as it started to become more difficult to form cohesive thoughts, he finally gave in

“N-NahaHAha! Okahay OKAY! I’m sOHOrry! I’m sohorry! J-Just stohop! Plehease!”

Miguel smiled victoriously as he slowly ceased his tickling fingers. Using one claw, he ripped the webs that held Hobie in place, chuckling as the usually tough Spider Punk became nearly limp in the chair.

“You-“, Hobie started as he took deep breaths, fighting off residual giggles as his hips and sides still tingled “You. Are. Awful.”, he said, glaring at Miguel as he swiveled and propped his feet on the table again.

Miguel just shrugged, “And you’re a lot squeakier than I thought you’d be”, he shot back with a smile- a genuine smile.

Hobie sat in silence for a moment, still glaring, but as he looked at Miguel and saw that happy smile that was so rarely seen, he just huffed and went back to playing on his phone “Whatever”, he grumbled.

As Miguel stood there, still poking fun at Hobie, he thought to himself.

‘Maybe these kids really aren’t that bad…’

And as Hobie sat, pretending to ignore the older spider, he thought to himself as well.

Maybe he enjoyed spending time with Miguel…

..and maybe he really didn’t mind the tickling that much either.

________________

AHHH YAY THE FIRST OF A FEW REQUESTS!! I’m very happy with the way this one turned out, and I hope I did the request justice!

[thatbigbisexual29]

Revenge Is A Dish Best Served.... Spider (ATSV)

GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY IT IS FINISHED!!! MY MAGNUM OPUS!!!! So... hi everyone! I'm so sorry this fic took so long! I got caught up with life stuff and my writer's inspo kept leaving me when I needed it most ;-; But it's now done! So now I post it! Also its super fricken long sorry about that lols. ANyways, enjoy and eat up my lovlies! ^<^

There he was. Perfect timing. Perfect position. Perfect opportunity. Three spidermen stood and watched their older counterpart closely with crossed arms.

“He’s asleep.”

“He’s wide open.”

“He’ll kill us if we go through with this.”

The three teens, Miles, Pavitr, and Gwen, all took pause and thought for a moment. The one they were looking at was none other than Hobie Brown, asleep and outstretched on Miles’ parents sofa. It was an amusing sight. The teen was waaaaay too big for the couch. Hobie laid on his stomach with his arms outstretched over one arm of the couch, and his legs dangling over the other arm. And he had a small flock of spider-teens observing him with crossed arms.

The three had recently come across the fact that they had all been targeted and sentenced to tickling by the punk. They came to this realization as they were watching a movie and a tickle scene came on. They all shuddered at their recent memories from their own experiences (as well as the scene being especially rude) and they started talking. That leads us to now.

“Do we really need to get him back? I mean, I liked it when he tickled me, it was fun!” Pavitr admitted, earning a look from the other two spiders.

“That’s only because he didn’t punish you. We,” Gwen gestured to herself and Miles, “got punished. We want to get him back.”

“Yeah, just because you had a good time doesn’t mean we did. Revenge is in order,” Miles agreed. Pav smiled a bit and shook his head.

“You Americans and your ticklish bloodlust. You shouldn’t have pranked him in the first place!” he giggled as he earned more scowls from his friends. Then he stretched his arms and cracked his fingers. “But if you two are too scared to start, I know where he’s ticklish!”

Pavitr walked up confidently, constantly surprising Miles and Gwen with his boldness. Moving Hobie’s hair from his neckline, he found his nape and started gently scribbling. The reaction was immediate. Hobie hummed a laugh, then started mumbling out chuckles, shifting on the couch as Pav continued. His arms sleepily reached behind him and his hands waved around as if he was trying to catch Pav’s, but he had no such luck.

“Mmmhmhmhmhmhm… Kahaharl quihihihit…” the punk muttered through his soft giggles. Miles and Gwen looked on in awe but soon dawned evil smiles on their faces. Pavitr was about to speak until they all held their breaths. Hobie groaned in his sleep and turned over entirely, now lying on his back. He scratched at his stomach and smacked his lips, returning to his peaceful slumber. The three teens gave each other looks of confirmation.

“I’m getting his stomach.” Miles called.

“His legs are all mine.” Gwen purred.

“Well, someone has to hold his arms...” Pavitr sighed.

They all jumped onto the taller Spider-Man. Miles sat on his thighs, Gwen sat on his knees facing him, and Pavitr quickly thwipped Hobie’s wrists together and held down the web with his foot, keeping his hands free. Hobie instantly woke up with a snort, looking around all dazed and confused.

“H-Huh? Whas happnin’? ‘S goin’ on?” he asked. He pulled at his wrists and started to panic as he realized the situation he was in. He pulled more as he saw Miles sitting above him with crossed arms and a smirk.

“Mornin’ Hobs. Had a nice nap?” Brooklyn’s Spider-Man asked. Hobie looked straight up and saw Pav who waved. He looked around Miles to see Gwen who nodded her head towards him. Hobie simply sighed and deflated where he laid, ragdolling his head on the arm of the couch.

“Whas dis den? You lot tryna get me back, is that it?” he said.

“Yep,” Gwen said.

“Nailed it right on the head,” Miles agreed.

“I mean, not really but this seems like fun,” Pavitr chided. Hobie took one more assessment of his situation before shrugging.

“Fine,” he sighed. “If it keeps you busy.”

The three spider kids were slightly taken aback by his willingness, but they shook it off nonetheless.

“Pav, you wanna start first?” Miles asked. Pavitr tapped his chin as if he was thinking about it.

“Hmm… let me think…” As he started to ponder, he took his free hand and softly scribbled his fingers up and down Hobie’s bicep, getting so close to his armpit but stopping just a hair short to continue upwards.

Hobie jumped at the contact and bit his lip, fighting back snickers while saying, “Oho fuck ohoff Pav.”

“I mean, I really should go first, shouldn’t I?” India’s Spider-Man spoke as he touched his other hand down on Hobie’s bicep, now scribbling up and down both his arms while speaking. “I am the one he got first. Even though I liked it, you can’t just tickle someone and not expect to be tickled back, right? Oh but if I do, he might get me back worse! What to do, what to do! Maybe I should just stay here, teasing him, almost going to his armpits but not quite yet~” 

Meanwhile, Hobie was currently suffering under the torturous teasing he was being subjected to. Miles smiled and watched as his usually concealed friend lose his mind at a few simple scratches.

“Come on, Hobs!” Pav continued, now scratching right above his armpits. “I know how ticklish you are! Why hide it? I can feel you’re gonna break~ Aaaaaaaaaany second now~ Maybe I should go lower? Maybe I should tickle your armpits? Would that make you laugh? Hm?~”

“Ffffffffffuhuhucker- Pahav- Imma k-kihihill you!” Hobie growled through his giggles. He used all the movement he could to cover his eyes with his elbows. His smile was bigger than ever and he was constantly moving and shaking his torso.

“Looks like Hobie’s quite the dancer! Wiggle wiggle Hobs~” Miles cooed. Gwen just sat back and pulled out her phone, recording this moment. I’m so sending this to Peter, she thought with an evil smirk.

“What do you guys think? Should I go for the kill?” Pav asked as he hovered his hands over his friend’s armpits. Hobie’s eyes widened and he gasped, holding his breath. He let out hesitational giggles as Pav’s fingers wriggled above their target area. Even Miles felt shivers up his spine.

“Oh hell yes you should! Why don’t I help out?~” Miles brought his own wiggly fingers to hover above Hobie’s ribs. The taller teen grunted and covered his eyes again.

“Y-You fuckheads! Teasin’s not fair! Bofa yous as dead as doornails, ‘ear me??” The Spider-Punk said in a panicked voice. Miles and Pav looked at each other and nodded. At the same time they mouthed ‘1…2…3!’

Then, they attacked! Both Miles and Pav touched down onto Hobie’s torso and began their assault. Pavitr wickedly scratched and clawed Hobie’s armpits while Miles dug his fingers between the spaces of his ribs. Hobie, meanwhile, barked out a laugh and jerked hard. He nearly sent Gwen flying! She was lucky that he was barely using his spider strength, so instead she got shoved into Miles’ back. 

“Oof! Hehey, watch it Hobs! You tryna kill me here?” the Spider-Woman retorted. Hobie was too busy laughing his ass off to make up a witty response.

“BAHhahahahahahahahaha! F-Fuck sake- gyahahahahaha! Gehehehehet outta thehehehehehere! Shhhhihihihihihits! You shihihihitbags! Fffr- grrr- pfffhahahahahahaha!” Hobie was a completely new person. The only people who’ve seen this ticklish side of him were Karl and Pav, but he’s never been tickled by them at the same time. But did having Miles and Pav tickle him simultaneously make it any less fun? No. No it did not. This was the most fun he’s had in his life!

“I told you guys he’s ticklish! Oh, oh! What’s that thing you sing to Karl when you tickle him? It goes like “I’m gonna tickle tickle tickle you until you dieeeeeeee~” right? Am I right?” Pav asked, constantly stirring the pot and switching up his technique. He went from digging and vibrating to scratching and scribbling, then to poking and prodding. Miles laughed a bit.

“You seriously sing that?” he asked.

“Yes, he does. I have videos for proof,” Gwen said from her spot behind Miles (she fixed her position to where she was sitting on Hobie’s shins).

“Ooh, you should show him the video you took of Karl and Hobie on Karl’s birthday! Now that was brutal!” Pav said, harboring another bark of laughter from the punk below him as he jammed his fingers into the center of his hollows.

“J-Jehehehehehehehesus Christ! Stahahahahahahahap tahahahahalkin’!” Hobie ordered, but his words failed to carry any authority. Miles just smirked and vibrated his fingers faster and he felt deeply satisfied when the punk jerked forward.

“Guys, I don’t think I can believe what I’m hearing. Is he actually trying to order us around right now?” Miles raised an eyebrow and looked to Gwen and Pav.

“Completely unbelievable,” Pav agreed.

“Especially coming from the guy who ‘doesn’t follow orders.’ What do you have to say for yourself, Hobs?” Gwen asked. Hobie could only flop back and forth while spewing giggles and laughs from his mouth, shaking his head so much so one would think you asked him if he liked the government. The three teens just laughed with him. Then, Hobie said something unexpected.

“Breheheheheheak!” he laughed out. “Breheheheheheak break break! I cahahahahahahan’t!”

Without a second thought, Miles and Pavitr raised their hands and halted their tickling. Hobie’s body instantly relaxed, giggling and sighing as he caught his breath. Gwen was up in a flash and making a beeline for the kitchen. Pavitr rubbed Hobie’s pits to rub the ghost tickles away, being careful he wasn’t tickling the older spider. Miles patted Hobie’s side in an attempt to calm him.

“You alright, Hobie? Is it too much? Should we stop??” Brooklyn’s Spider-Man questioned, looking from Hobie to Pavitr for confirmation. Pav just smiled back at him.

“No need to panic, Spidey,” he explained, “It’s normal for someone to get worked up in a situation like this. He just needs some water and a breather, then we’re free to get back to it! Right Hobs?”

Hobie responded with a nod, now just panting. Gwen returned with a cup of water and offered it to Hobie’s lips. The punk shimmied up so he could drink more comfortably. And drink he did. He barely left a drop in the cup before laying back down. Then, he chuckled.

“You two are right fuckin’ evil, man. Downright awful, it was. Shihihit,” he chuckled.

“Well just you wait! Cause Miles is really about to knock your socks off~” Gwen cooed, pinching Hobie’s cheek like a grandma would. Hobie, feeling playful, bit at her fingers. Gwen squeaked out in surprise and shot her hand back to her side.

“Hey!” she fussed. Hobie just grinned with mischief. Gwen just rolled her eyes with a smile, shook her head, and traveled back to the kitchen with cup in hand.

“Now that wasn’t very nice, Hobie!” Miles said.

“Oh yeah? Whatcha gon’ do bout it, Miles? Hm? Gon’ punish me? Treat me like a bad boy, huh? I reckon you won’t, ya too much of a coward~” Hobie taunted, shimmying his chest at Miles. Brooklyn’s Spider-Man was immediately taken back, sending a confused look at Pavitr. Pav simply laughed.

“This trick again, Hobie?” Pav asked as he looked down at his friend, giggling when Hobie waggled his eyebrows at him. “This is a method he tries to mess with anyone who’s tickling him. But it never works. Just go ahead, he loves this stuff!”

Miles simply looked at Hobie and smiled. Hobie sighed and shrugged.

“Wurf a shot, roight?” he said. Miles grabbed the hem of Hobie’s shirt and pulled up, finding a pleasant surprise. 

“No way!” he exclaimed.

“What is it?” Pavitr poked his head up. 

“Did you find an embarrassing birthmark? A third nipple??” Gwen said, running back from the kitchen, all too excited to find something humiliating to tease Hobie for.

“No, look!” Miles pointed his finger to his stomach where it harbored a black and silver belly button piercing with an upside down cross. The three gawked as they looked at it, giving the punk a longer break.

“Holy crap you have a belly piercing??” Pavitr asked, bewildered. 

“You should see what else I have pierced~” Hobie said with a wink to his friends. 

There were three seconds of silence before Pavitr barked out, “YOU PIERCED YOUR PENIS?!?”

Everyone burst out into hysterical laughter at Pav’s declaration. Miles deflated onto Hobie’s chest, Gwen slumped against the back of the couch, and Hobie just cackled as if they started tickling him again.

“No Pahav, mah nips! I pierced mah nipples, ya goon! I’m fuckin’ out mah mind, not crazy! Pahahaha!” Hobie said, giggling out of his mind.

“Oh my god, I wish I had that recorded!” Gwen cried out through her laughter. Miles just held his head on Hobie’s chest and snickered hysterically. Pavitr blushed from embarrassment but started laughing too. And Hobie was a mess. He was giggling so much that he started to let out tiny snorts. Miles shot up when he heard them.

“You snort when you laugh!” Brooklyn’s Spider-Man accused, pointing a finger right in the punk’s face. “Why did you rip on me when you snort too? You’re such a hypocrite!”

Hobie just giggled and said, “Cause it’s cuter when you do it! ‘S adorable, mate, ‘ow can I not tease ya?”

“Oh, you’re getting it now!” Miles declared, raising his two hands and forming them into claws. “Any last words?~”

“Sleep with one eye open- yeEEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Hobie taunted then screamed as Miles dug into his stomach. He used the same method he used on his ribs, only this time, he used tiny sparks of his venom to add more to its kick. Hobie jerked up hard, nearly sending Miles flying, but the teen just laughed and held on tighter.

“Haha! Oh man, regret teasing me yet? Or do you need more persuasion?” Miles asked as he kneaded and zapped Hobie’s toned stomach. Hobie just barked out loud laughter as he swung around, thrashing like a rodeo bull. Pav looked shocked but was laughing with them as Gwen started recording again.

“FAHAHAHAHAHAHAHACK MIHIHIHIHIHIHILES!! CH-CHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEAT!! YOU CHEHEHEHEHEHEAT!! NOHOHOHOHO VEHEHEHEHEHENOM!! MAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAILES!!!” Hobie threw his head back and cackled like a madman.

“Holy crap! You’re ruthless Miles! That’s his worst spot!” Pavitr said. It was unaware if he was warning Miles or encouraging him.

Either way, Hobie genuinely looked like he was having fun. His smile was wide and unapologetic, his eyes closed as his nose scrunched tight. It was a beautiful sight and such a 180 from his normal personality. Miles was going to ask for every single video and picture Gwen was taking at that very moment. And every other video or picture where Hobie’s getting tickled.

“You think this is ruthless?” Miles asked, removing his hands to give Hobie a very short lived break. “Let me show you what my Uncle Aaron taught my dad when I was a kid.”

“You… you still are a kid… bitch…” Hobie panted out. Now his fate was sealed. Miles furrowed his brows and smiled. Without any warning, Miles rapidly squeezed his hands against Hobie’s sides and inhaled deeply before blowing a massive raspberry on the punk’s stomach. Hobie fucking lost it. He arched up high and his laughter went silent. Then, it roared out of him as if he was the offspring of a lion and hyena.

“MAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAILES!!!! SHIHIHIHIHIHIHI- FAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOT AGAIN! NOT AGAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAIN!!! YOUHUHU FUCKIN PEHEHEHEHEHEST!! AHAHAHAHAHA SHIT!! OK!! OKOKOK AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! I TAHAHAHAHAKE IT BAHAHAHAHAHAHACK!!” Miles sat back and laughed a bit, enjoying how easily he picked apart his friend.

“Come on, punk rocker! Can’t handle a few wittle tickews? You’re lucky I’m not shocking you! Or going after your piercing~ Man, how hellish would that be?” Brooklyn’s Spider-Man taunted. Hobie was ballistic. Pav noticed this and was about to warn Miles to stop when his spider sense went off. He looked up to the front door and saw the doorknob turning and heard the sound of jingling keys.

“Miles, stop! Your parents are home!” Pavitr said, quickly fishing Hobie’s pocket knife from the punk’s discarded jacket. Miles looked up and towards the hall. He sprang off Hobie as Gwen casually went to get another cup of water. Pavitr cut the webs and Miles helped calm Hobie down just as Rio Morales walked in.

“Miles? Everything alright? It sounded like someone was dying in here,” she said, hanging up her purse and walking into the living room. What she found was quite the wholesome sight. The tv was on as Miles and Pav sat with Hobie on the couch, laughing at some sitcom that was playing. Gwen came from the kitchen and smiled to Rio.

“Sorry, Rio- I mean, Mrs. Morales. The show we were watching is just super funny! I was about to make us some popcorn, want a bag?” the blonde spider-woman somewhat lied, distracting the woman. Meanwhile, Hobie was leaning back on the couch and hugging his torso, still recovering from the harsh tickles he received. Miles immediately felt guilty.

“Hey man, you alright? I went too far, didn’t I?” he asked, looking at Hobie with a worried glance. Hobie just chuckled, and as if he had regained all of his strength just then, he swooped an arm around Miles’ neck and dug his knuckles into his head, giving him a noogie.

“Ah, you little bugga! Who knew you were such a meanie? Yeah, I’s jus ‘bout to tap out. But you good mahn! Was super fun. You’ll still have to watch your back~” Hobie cooed that last part into his ear as he squeezed his ribs, making Miles bark out a laugh.

The teens went on with their night, Gwen declaring that one day she’d get her own personal revenge on Hobie (even though they argued that the pictures and photos she took were her revenge). They found a movie and nuzzled into a large cuddle pile, falling asleep in the blankets and pillows, all of them leaning on Hobie.

And the last thing Hobie thought before he faded into sleep was, God my friends are the best.

[switchundercover]

Tickletober Day 2: Accidental

A/N: HELLO TUMBLR TK COMMUNITY!! This is my first fic I'm posting on here, with tickletober giving me the motivation I needed to do so!! I've always been lurking in the community ever since I joined it, but I finally thought that it was time to put myself out there! I'm currently OBSESSED with ATSV, so I did a thing with Hobie and Miles bc I love how they interact in the movie! Anyways, I won't bore you with a super long authors note that most people probably won't read, so I hope you enjoy the fic!

Tw: swearing, mention of blood/bleeding out, tickles

——————————————————————————

Hobie slumped onto the couch of his living room, clutching his waist in pain. He had been sent out on a mission, and had got beaten up.. pretty badly to say the least. Despite the insistence that he was fine and 'I've survived worse, I'll be alright', it didn't stop Miles Morales from checking in on him to examine and.. try to heal his wounds.

"Mate.. I'm fine, really." Hobie said, wincing as Miles examined the wound.

"Hobie, you're literally bleeding out." Miles replied, a hint of sass in his voice. Hobie just shrugged, surprising Miles with how nonchalant he was, but he did inhale sharply between his teeth as Miles wrapped up the wound in gauze. Hobie let out a shaky sigh, turning his head away from Miles. Hobie didn't like it when his friends took care of him like this, feeling like he could take care of himself due to being the oldest in the group. He felt it was childish of him to ask his younger friends for help, when he knew that they had to deal with the same, if not worse, pain.

Hobie's body flashed a few colours, the colour around his waist being relatively normal so Miles could see and tend to the wound better. The rest of his body was a muted gray, small bits of a blood red colour appearing on his body like paint splatters whenever Hobie would wince from the pain, the colours eventually fizzling back out into the gray. To anyone who didn't know Hobie, it was an oddly pretty spectacle (despite it being at Hobie's expense), but to those closest to him, it was relatively normal, so it didn't distract Miles from the task at hand; which was making sure Hobie didn't bleed out and die.

After the bulk of the treatment was finished, Hobie melted into his couch, feeling a bit more relaxed after the more painful part of the process was dealt with. Now, Miles was just examining his torso, making sure there were no other major wounds. The feeling was relatively calming, feeling like a sort of massage. Miles' fingers were quick to examine Hobie's torso, now examining his ribs to see if any of the bones had cracked. What Miles didn't expect was the sharp intake of breath that came from the punk, the spot that Miles touched flashing to a more neon shade of yellow for a brief moment before returning back to normal.

"O-oh, sorry- did I hurt you..?" Miles asked, a bit of shame in his tone. Miles looked at Hobie with a worried expression, afraid he might've caused more damage.

The usually cool and collected Hobie stammered for a moment before shaking his head, making up an excuse from the top of his head. "Nah, you're fine mate. Just wasn't really expecting it 's all." Hobie replied, that yellow colour on his ribs returning as if it was disagreeing with what Hobie said.

Miles noticed the flash of yellow, not exactly knowing what it meant. He knew that if Hobie's body was blue, it meant he was sad, pink meant platonic love (his body would be a brighter red if he was around someone he loved romantically), and many, many other different colours and meanings that Miles had memorized due to knowing Hobie for a good while. This yellow was new, something that Miles had never seen before. Miles thought he might've been reading to much into this, so he just gave Hobie a small hum in response and continued his examination.

Hobie's body stiffened slightly as Miles went back to examining his ribs, feeling an unbearably ticklish feeling every single time Miles' fingers would lightly press against the bones, checking for any painful reaction. The yellow colour only being on Hobie's ribs definitely eluded to.. something, Miles wasn't sure, but the colour made Miles somewhat worried. Miles withdrew his hands, a small frown on his face as he looked at his friend with concern.

"Hobie, if it hurts you need to tell me. I don't wanna make it worse." Miles fretted, his tone being concerned and a bit scared for his friend. Hobie felt a little bad that his stifled ticklish reactions made Miles worried, but.. it was still extremely embarrassing to him, so Hobie shook his head, dismissing Miles' worries.

"I'm fine. Don't worry 'bout it. You worry to much bruv." Hobie chuckled, his teeth clicking against his tongue piercing out of slight nervousness. Miles raised an eyebrow, inching his hand closer to Hobie's ribs, but not touching them just yet. Hobie's reaction immediately became apparent, the punk flinching away from Miles' hand, and the yellow colour on his body spreading slightly. Miles was confused. If it didn't hurt, what was the issue? Miles thought of himself in Hobie's situation for a moment, being injured and having a friend of his checking for injuries. He thought of somebody's hand pressing against his ribs, slightly pressing against the bone to see if they were hurt. Miles' eyes immediately widened at the realization, a small smirk appearing on his face.

"Oi, what're you bein' all smug about?" Hobie questioned, his body stiffening slightly as he pointed an accusing finger at Miles. Hobie figured that Miles had found out why he was reacting in the way that he did, and as a result of this, a small bit of red crept up onto his face, and the yellow along his ribs spread and became a bit brighter.

Miles couldn't stop himself from giggling, finding the situation incredibly amusing. "Oh, it's nothing.." Miles quickly darted a hand to Hobie's ribs before pulling it away just as fast, grinning as Hobie's body jumped away from it and an essence of a screech escaped his lips.

"Y-you wouldn't do.. that to me! I'm injured man, you'll kill me!" Hobie argued, narrowing his eyes as he found it a bit harder to keep his cool.

"Relax! I'll be gentle!" Miles said, his giggles getting louder as his hand made contact with Hobie's torso. Miles smirked at the way Hobie's body tensed up, and the slightest hint of a squeak made it's way past Hobie's closed lips. Miles slowly, and I mean slowly dragged his fingers along Hobie's ribs, the punk inhaling sharply as a result.

"Miles! Fuck- stop that!" Hobie yelped, the tiniest giggle slipping through his gritted teeth. Hobie's pleas were only met with a huge grin from Miles, who immediately capitalized off of that small giggle by pressing his fingers against Hobie's ribs and vibrating his fingers rapidly. In Miles' eyes, this was gentle, as he knew Hobie had a hell of a lot of resistance when it came to touch. Wether it be pain, or in this case, tickles.

"MAHAHAHAILES-! STAHAHAHAHAHAP- NAHAHAHAHAHAHA FAHAHAHAHACK-!" Hobie screeched, his attempt to squeal out a plea immediately replaced with more bouts of loud laughter when Miles decided it would be a good idea to use a small amount of his venom power to shock Hobie, the unbearably ticklish feeling traveling across Hobie's entire torso. Miles giggled and let up, allowing Hobie to actually breath. Miles snuck an extra pinch to his ribs, grinning at the small yelp that came out of the punk.

"Alright, I'm done. Don't want you getting hurt.. more than you already are.. you good?" Miles asked, Hobie responding with a shaky thumbs up. "Y-yeah.. 'm fine mate.. holy shihihit." Hobie chuckled, the tingly feeling from the venom still present. Throughout the entire ordeal, Hobie's body changed colour completely, going from gray with those hints of yellow (which Miles was now suspecting ment Hobie was embarrassed about something), to a full blown pink, with occasional flashes of the familiar yellow colour here and there.

Miles chuckled and stood up, going to the kitchen to get Hobie some water. Miles quickly returned, offering the water to Hobie, who drank it so fast you'd be convinced there was nothing in the cup in the first place.

"Thanks Miles.. you know, for tendin' to my injuries and whatever. 'S nice of you." Hobie said, sighing as he let out one final giggle. Miles smiled, loving the fact that he left a positive impact on Hobie's well-being. "Well, I feel like it's kind of.. in my nature to care about the people I love, so you're welcome." Miles replied, his smile growing a bit wider.

"Hey, you wanna watch a movie?" Miles suddenly asked, looking at Hobie.

"Sure, what're you thinkin' of?"

And so Hobie and Miles lazily draped their bodies over Hobie's semi-comfortable couch, watching a movie on some probably illegal website. Hobie couldn't shake the small smile that was on his face, the knowing that Miles, and all of his friends for that matter, would be there for him making him feel all warm inside. Miles caught a quick glimpse of Hobie, seeing that the pink colour on Hobie's body got a bit brighter.

And personally, Miles wouldn't have it any other way.

[gaybananabread]

•• @/Anon For the TT prompts, how about Lee!Miguel and any ler for day 5 or Ler!Peter B. with any lee for day 24? ••

TickleTober Day 24 - Joke

~This is the second half of a request for day 5. Not sure if the Anon will see it, but I still had fun writing this! Hobie’s little quips towards Peter were so casual and fun; I think they deserve more little moments together. If you’re seeing this, thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Hobie Brown

Ler: Peter B. Parker (& special guest appearance by Mayday)

Summary: Peter is in an extra corny mood, telling all of his best (worst) dad jokes. Hobie refuses to acknowledge anything funny about them, staying stubborn. With a little help from his daughter, Peter quickly finds a method to get him to appreciate the jokes.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

“Okay, okay, how about this one?” Peter chuckled, bouncing his little girl in his arms. Hobie was hanging out with the two that morning, and the father had decided to unload his favorite dad jokes to pass the time.

“I just read a few facts about frogs,” Peter grinned, giving the line a few seconds to sink in. “They were ribbeting!”

Hobie giggled through a groan, running both hands down his face. That was, like, the thirtieth dad joke he’d told within the past ten minutes. One man can only take so many horrible puns and cringe-worthy jokes.

“I’ll pay you ta stop.” The punk peeked out from behind his hand, seeing the goofy grin on his friend’s face. Peter was a great guy, especially when Hobie just wanted someone easy to talk to and chill with. Plus, Mayday was adorable.

The jokes, however, were killing him.

“They’re good! Mayday likes my jokes, don’tcha, sweetheart?” Peter held his daughter out in front of him, making her giggle and kick in the air. “See? She gets it.”

“She’s yer kid. She’s gotta ge’ it.” He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Peter’s reasoning. He doubted the toddler understood the concept of jokes just yet, but it was still a cute thought. “Lil’ bit pro’lly don’t even get the point o’ jokes.”

“Hey! Every Parker gets jokes!” Peter huffed indignantly, hugging his daughter to his chest. The girl squealed as she was slightly squished, wriggling in her father’s arms. “Watch this. Mayday, what do you get when you cross a bee with a sheep?”

The girl stuck her tongue out at him, studying his face. She was trying to figure out what he was saying, paying about as much attention as a child of her age could.

“A baa-humbug!” Peter made an obnoxious baa-ing sheep noise at the beginning of his punchline, making the toddler squeal in amusement. It was a good trick, Hobie had to admit.

“Aw, c’mon! She jus’ liked the sheep noise!” Hobie rolled his eyes once again, tossing his hands up in protest. The joke was so corny; it made it hard to laugh when all he wanted to do was cringe.

“You are such a downer!” Shaking his head, Peter hoisted Mayday onto his shoulders. He glared at Hobie, nudging Mayday’s little arm until she copied him. It was – unfortunately for Hobie’s resolve – utterly adorable.

“Cram it, ol’ man.” The punk turned away, crossing his arms as he hid a fond smile. He adored Mayday more than he’d like to admit, and Peter was a funny, sweet guy to hang around. Even if he did hurt Hobie’s brain sometimes.

“I’m not that old yet!” Peter’s shoulders jumped up with his protest, his daughter snickering at the feeling. “Oh, hush, you little scamp.” He scratched a finger down one of her tiny soles, making the girl kick and squeal. She tugged at his hair to keep her balance, which he was used to by then.

Actually…he might’ve found a way to show Hobie just how funny his jokes really were.

While the teen's back was still turned, Peter fired a shot of web at him. Hobie's spider sense buzzed a second to late, not really counting Peter's silliness as a threat. The thread hit him square in the back, yanking him towards Peter.

Hobie’s back hit the man’s chest, two strong arms quickly wrapping around him. It was a little awkward with the height difference, but Peter made it work. While Hobie may have had height on his side, Peter was stronger.

“Lemme go, ya geezer!” Hobie twisted and thrashed in Peter’s grip, but he couldn’t fight with his full strength; Mayday was still on the man’s shoulders. He didn’t want to risk accidentally hurting her.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” Peter’s smug voice grated against Hobie’s nerves as he tried to pry the man’s hands off. "Why was the stadium so hot after the game?"

“I don’ care!” Hobie stomped his feet, trying to drown Peter out. Unfortunately, the man could just say it right in his ear.

“Nope! Because all the fans left! Eh, eh?”

Instead of waiting for Hobie’s inevitably underwhelmed reaction, Peter dug his finger’s into the punk’s hips, making him snort into a burst of loud, scraggly laughter.

“GAHAHAHAHA! FUHUHU- *snort* PEHETER!” Hobie tried to fold in on himself, but he was stopped by the man’s strong grip around his chest. He was trapped in a tickly hug with no viable ways out.

“Language! You know better than to curse around Mayday.” Peter shook his head before drilling his thumbs into the little pocket above Hobie’s hip bones, pulling a shriek from the lanky teen.

Mayday seemed thoroughly amused by all the chaos, climbing over her dad’s shoulders to reach for Hobie. She nuzzled her tiny head against his neck, her wily curls softly tickling behind his ears and across his neck. Hobie tried scrunching his shoulders up, only causing the girl to giggle and press closer.

“GEHEHE’ YOUHUHUR DEHEHEVIL- *snort* OHOFFA MEHEHEHE!” Hobie tossed his head around as carefully as he could, trying his hardest not to hit the girl on his shoulder. It was incredibly unfair, using her as a shield like he was. The teen had to admit that he was a bit impressed.

“Devil?! My little girl is an angel, thank you very much!” Gasping dramatically, Peter spidered his fingers up to Hobie’s sides and ribs. While the boisterous laughter was quite nice, he didn’t want to exhaust the teen entirely.

“I-Ihi dohohon’ wahanna ahaccidentahally huhurt heher!” Hobie’s cackles died down to pitchy giggles and laughs, his voice about an octave higher than normal. He made a good point, but the man still needed Mayday to keep him from fighting.

“You wouldn’t hurt her. I’d trust you with Mayday’s life if I had to. It’ll be fine.” Peter disguised a tease under the compliment, clawing his way up and down the punk’s sides. He really was enjoying himself; seeing the kids laugh was always fun.

“Y-youhuhu- GYAH! Youhu neehehehek!” Hobie nearly cursed, but Peter censored him with a quick scribble to the navel.

“Being mean in British is still being mean, Hobie.” Peter chastised him, tutting as Mayday went right back to snuggling her fuzzy head against his neck. Now that his reactions were calmer, the little squeaks and voice cracks came through perfectly.

“B-Brihitish ahain’t a lahahanguage!” Hobie’s shoulders scrunched once again, giving Mayday a little boost. She giggled from the movement, patting her small hands against his rosy cheek. It was adorable, making it near impossible for him to be irritated at her.

“So nitpicky. First, you criticize my jokes, and now you’re correcting me? For shame, Hobart, for shame.” The dad gave Hobie’s hips one more good squeeze, mainly trying to distract him from the fact that he’d just said the boy’s full first name. That usually got some not-so-nice words in response; he wasn’t looking to teach Mayday anything else that MJ would scold him about.

While the punk usually could’ve held on for much longer, his cheeks were getting sore, and he could feel Mayday slip a little with every big laugh and squeak. He knew Peter would never let her even come close to hitting the ground if she fell, but the teen was anxious nonetheless. He knew what he had to do…

Enjoy the ego boost, Parker.

“F-fihihihine! Youhuhuhur johohokes ‘re fuhuhunny!” Hobie finally conceded, trying to bring his squirming down to a minimum. He’d get his revenge later, no doubt, but peace was his only option for the time being.

“There ya go, kid!” He gave Hobie one last squeeze of a hug before pulling back, taking his daughter with him. Mayday whined at the break in contact, reaching out for the giggly punk.

“J-jehehez, ruthless ol’ bum…” Hobie muttered the words under his breath, meaning absolutely nothing by them. It wasn’t uncommon for him to exchange loving insults with his older friends and mentors.

The teen recovered pretty quickly, taking the squirmy toddler into his arms when he was able to breathe normally. She immediately cuddled into his chest, demanding snuggly affection that no being with a heart could deny.

“Yer lucky she’s ‘ere, or you’d be in tears.” Hobie calmly laid the threat out, slowly swaying to make Mayday smile. He loved the little rascal’s grin, especially the cute little gap between her front two teeth. While he didn’t seem the type, he really did love kids.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Peter huffed, knowing all too well how true that statement was. One thing that was always interesting about Hobie: he was willing to dish out whatever he received, and vice versa. It made for playfully fun slow days at the Society.

“It’s almost her nap time. Wanna help me put her down, maybe grab something from the cafeteria? I’ll pay,” Peter offered, gently nudging the boy’s shoulder with his own.

Hobie was quite peckish after all the goofy activity, and making Peter pay for things would be a step in the vengeance direction…

“Al’ight, yeah. Let’s go, gramps.” Cradling the sleepy little girl against his chest, Hobie started for the lobby. Peter rolled his eyes before catching up, reminding himself to steal some of the teen’s fries in retaliation.

Maybe he could even have busted out some of his worst burger puns, though they might’ve been too cheesy.

[grayishgiggles]

Tickletober Day 2 — Chase

Lee!Grayson, Ler!Miguel

Prompt list by @tickletober / @/august-anon

“I don’t get it,” Grayson deadpanned, practically shadowed by his mentor’s figure. He played with one of his hoodie strings as he walked through one of the many cavernous hallways in HQ. And, of course, it wouldn’t be HQ without the fifty or so spider-men they had to weave through. In a way, Grayson looked like a duckling following his mother. His nearly seven foot tall scary looking mother. With claws. “Where are we going?”

“We’re gonna train.” Miguel glanced up from his watch down next to him, suddenly halting his gait. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a body bump against his back, turning sharply with a confused glare. 

“Sorry,” said Grayson, scrambling to walk parallel with him now. “Wait, is this cause of my last patrol?! I just had an off day, man, I-I didn’t think he’d be able to keep up with me.”

“Gray, chill out,” Miguel held a hand up, the smallest tinge of amusement in his voice. “You’re not in trouble. I just haven’t got my workout in today…”

“Oh, okay.”

Their footsteps filled the silence for a moment. Miguel shrugged, the glow of his suit catching Grayson’s eye. ”…and, I dunno, you make things less boring.” 

“Awww!” Grayson broke into a goofy smile, giving the bigger man an affectionate shove to the shoulder. Miguel rolled his eyes and swatted at his hand sheepishly.

 “We are gonna work on your agility, though.”

“Aw come on!”

“I don’t wanna hear your whining. I’ll make it fun, ok?” Miguel tilted his head harmlessly, eyes meeting his apprentice’s mismatched ones. 

How the hell did he get a purple eye anyway? He thought, Genetics-wise he’d have to have some sorta albinism… wait, what the hell are you talking about, O’Hara? You have red eyes. You got claws. Spider DNA does weird shit to you, too.

“What’re we gonna do then?” Grayson’s voice brought Miguel out of his head. He didn’t think that far, admittedly. He just said the “fun” thing to get the guy to stop complaining. His walking slowed with a hum, hand under chin in thought. There was the obstacle courses, robot drones, the laser field, hell, they could just patrol and practice on site.

”Bro, you’re not the thinker—“ Grayson prodded.

”Shut up.” 

Grayson let out a chuckle. Jeez, practically anything he did made the guy laugh. Really wasn’t helping his train of thought. That damn laugh… that… 

Oh.

OH!

He felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards. 

”How do you feel about a chase?” Miguel proposed, interrupting Grayson’s last chortle. “Oooh, sure! Like with one of those anomaly simulations?” 

There was a different air in his motion, suave, unalluring. Miguel stepped  in front of Grayson, effectively halting his pace. “With me.”

“Huh?!” Grayson blurted. “But that’s so unfair! I couldn’t catch you.”

“I’ll be chasing you.” Miguel corrected with a point.

A little wave of adrenaline ran through Grayson’s veins. “Uh, yeah, my point still stands.” 

“Hey, you never know till you try.” Miguel had tried  to come off as encouraging, leaning down to meet his level. “I’ll even add motivation, ok? Just don’t get caught for two minutes or else.”

The hooded spider’s face furrowed. “Or else what?” 

He could’ve just told him, honestly. Miguel could’ve, but he didn’t, because all he had to do was give him that look. A smirk, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. The classic formula. 

And as always, it worked. Grayson’s eyes expanded to the size of saucers. Little wave turned into big wave, his spider sense verifying it all. He knew the stakes. 

“You got a five second head start.” Miguel couldn’t hold back his smirk now.

“WHAT?”

“Four…”

That’s all Grayson needed to hear. The boots of his suit squeaked against the floor when he spun around, hauling it past a few concerned spider-men. Miguel watched the brown cowlick of his hair wave around like a flag, getting smaller. 

“Three… two… one…” he muttered to himself, then immediately broke into a sprint. 

“Shitshitshitshitshit!!” Grayson’s echoed expletives followed him down the hall and into the vast atrium of triangular walkways. His head spun left and right. Where now?! Does he hide out? No, that’s stupid! He can’t hide, this is for agility! 

“I see you!!”

Miguel’s voice boomed in the distance behind a crowd of spiders. No time for decision making. Grayson shot a web at a platform above, feet lifting off the ground as he swung upwards. His nimble yet steady frame wove past passerby swingers, apologizing when he nearly ran into 60’s spider-man. A futuristic THWIP caught his attention, followed by a dim red glow in the corner of his eye.

“Did you even give me five seconds?!” Grayson’s voice cracked. He yelped at the sudden thud of Miguel landing, and the thunder of his footsteps. “Oh SHIT SHIT SHIT-!”

“I gave you all five, so maybe you’re just too SLOW-!” Miguel yelled as he lunged to tackle him. Grayson ducked and rolled in time, scurrying past Miguel as he clawed the ground to change direction. He was too late, though. Grayson wasn’t on the platform anymore. 

”Dammit!”

“You ok, boss?” 

Miguel turned to see Ben Reilly, for once concerned about someone else and not his own angst. No, maybe he was just confused. Miguel didn’t care. His eyes flashed a sinister glare.

“Where did he go?”

Grayson’s gait became unsynchronized, panting all he could do. Once rounding the corner and checking behind him, he stumbled to a stop, hands on his knees. He should’ve spent more time at the gym on campus. Agility, yes, endurance, no. All the college kid could hear was his own panting. Hell, it echoed through the hall… wait, that’s weird. Where was everyone? When did a Spider Society hallway ever get quiet? 

Head turned up towards the rest of the hallway, not a single spider except him crawled through. He swallowed, taking in the ambient sound of late stage technology humming within the walls, that soft red glow accenting the trim. All he could think of was one of those hallways in Alien. 

Gingerly, he carried on with a jog. Despite no spider sense warning him, he had a bad feeling. This felt intentional. Miguel might’ve rigged this place as a trap. Who the hell knows what he could do just with the watches! The… watches. 

Grayson skidded to a stop, opening his portal watch frantically. He swiped to a hologram reading “LOCATION: ON.”

”Fuck,” he whispered, turning the feature off with a tap. His jog turned to a run. 

Careening past a few testing rooms and miscellaneous areas for hangouts, Grayson let out a chuckle of relief seeing the elevator door ahead. His light in the tunnel. Thank god!

Grayson’s gloved finger pressed the down button a few anxious times. He fidgeted in place, the humming descent of the platform growing louder by the second. He had to be passing two minutes by now. All he had to do was stay out of sight for a little longer. Easy win. 

The arrow above the door flashed with a modern ding. The platform settled to a halt, hissing out softly. The triangular doors slid open, and without question, Grayson dashed into the elevator.

Right into Miguel’s arms. 

Squeezed in a bear hug, Miguel lifted Grayson off the ground. “Gotcha!” 

“Wh-AHH! NO! No let me goho! It was two minutes! NO!”

“One minute and fifty seven seconds,” his captor corrected, the smile audible in his voice. Miguel moved with Grayson’s sudden squirming, but never budged but grabbed one of his wrists. “I don’t round up.”

“Y-You don’t gotta do this! W-We cohohould bet with food- AhAAAH!”

Grayson curled in on himself, failing to listen to his spider sense. Now there was a large hand gently pinching up and down his side. “NOHohoo!!”

“Should’ve been faster, mijo,” Miguel tutted. 

“IHIhihi DUHUhunno what that means!” He cried out with a snort, sinking in his arms. Miguel followed him, kneeling beside his victim and pinning his wrist above his head. He straddled one of his legs to keep Grayson down. 

Miguel curiously poked around his exposed side, delighted by the eruption of small giggles. He pushed his cropped hoodie up to show more of his suit. “Now, if I remember correctly… these ribs were a good spot.” He proved his claim a moment later, coaxing a laugh out of the spider-man with a light scribble to the side of his ribs. ”NOHOAhaha! Mihihiguel!!” Grayson snorted, his free arm weakly pushing against Miguel at an odd angle. “Gehet off! YohOHOu win!”

“Not yet, no,” he retorted, “you gotta get your fill of tickles, kay? It’s good for your immune system.” Grayson hated that he was right, a small blush on his cheeks followed by a stream of giggles. Miguel’s calloused fingers walked their way up to his armpit, the crop top hoodie’s sleeve doing nothing to protect him there. “EEhee!!”

“And there’s those squeaks,” Miguel recalled, like it was an old memory. His hand skipped over Grayson’s underarm, spidering right above on his bicep, eliciting a stream of bubbly giggles. “Oh, this is priceless.”

Grayson tugged at his trapped wrist with another snort. “IHIhIHi hahate you!!”

“Well that can’t be true.” Miguel sneered, clawing into his armpit. He chuckled upon Grayson’s burst of cackles. 

“NOhOHO not there! Ack!” Grayson’s legs flailed uselessly under Miguel. His cacophony paired with the elevator’s humming in descent made a delightful symphony in the leader’s head. “STAHAhaawp!!”

“Okay, okay, whatever,” Miguel replied, his fingers slowing to a few pokes. He relented his grip, kneeling over his apprentice to look at his smile. “You okay?”

“Jehesus…” Grayson chuckled as he fought to catch his breath. He took a deep breath in, letting out an extra giggle. “Y-Yeheheah…”

Miguel returned the smile, reaching a hand towards him. Grayson flinched with a funny noise. “Pfft, the shock was that?” He chuckled. The man’s hand finally reached Gray’s head of hair, ruffling it gently. 

Grayson scrunched his face and tried to fix the curl on his forehead. “You didn’t count to fihive…” he groaned. 

“I was gonna get you either way,” replied Miguel, “It was a matter of how long you wanted to delay the inevitable.”

Grayson shared a confused look. “Stop using big words.”

“Aren’t you an English major?” The sigh from Grayson made him blurt out a laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m a jerk.” He relented, standing up. He held a hand out to pull his apprentice up. Gray took the help and stood with a groan. The shift of gravity as the elevator slowed down caught their attention. 

“You did good, though.” Miguel said. “You outran me for a second.”

“I dunno how,” Grayson muttered with a shrug. A large hand lightly punched his shoulder. “Hey, no bad self-talk. We got anomaly files to organize back at the lab.” 

“Training’s over?”

“What, you wanna be tickled again?”

“N-No!”