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quillsandtypos · 28 days ago

Text

The Light of Laughter

Words: 7.7 k

Pairings: none, this is a platonic/familial fic

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter rolled his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“I want mine first,” Ned said.

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

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

Peter dropped the act. “Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at the front of it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Heard,” Ned nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter walked around, taking it all in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure you were,” Tony chortled.

“I was!” Peter scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have my word, Mr. Stark.”

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

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

“Oh, come on,” Peter protested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” she asked, slowing down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She squeezed his arm. “Anytime little spider.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not unless your attitude disappears,” Sam guffawed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter tensed. “Maybe?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maximoff, I swear,” he started.

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

“Yeah!” Peter agreed indignantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter!” Wanda yelped. “Help me!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Promise.” Peter said, earnestly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not helping!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanda save yourself!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bucky, don’t you dare!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not much,” he breathed out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wanda smiled, her nose scrunching up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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romcomxb · 5 months ago

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peter and wade discovered the 0.5 filter

logan wasn’t impressed

cropped versions below the cut

fuck i forgot logan’s mutton-chops

mbbbb

#this was so lazy omg #peter parker #wade wilson #logan howlett #poolverine #or #spideypool #or a bit of both #whatever tickles your fancy #my art #artists on tumblr #deadpool and wolverine #spiderman #deadpool #wolverine

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tastybluesprite · 2 months ago

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Chaos Intrusion

So… a disclaimer. This is based from the Spider man/Deadpool comic series (it’s really great btw for anyone who loves quality Spideypool content). Anyway, I just wanted to say that Spider Man/Peter Parker is supposed to be in his late twenties in this series (around 25 I think?) Sooooo yeah he is NOT a teen here, just so people are aware. Also Wade does not know his identity yet at this time of the story. Thank you. Enjoy the fic!

Warnings: None other than that this is a tickle fic so if that’s not your thing feel free to just keep scrolling.

Summery: Wade comes along just when Peter thought he’d finally have a peaceful night of patrolling.

It was supposed to be a quiet night on the rooftops of Manhattan. Or at least as quiet as it ever got for Spider Man. He had perched on a ledge, scanning the city below for trouble, when he heard the unmistakable voice of the chaos and devil incarnate himself.

"Spidey! My favorite wall crawler! My second favorite red suit wearer!" Deadpool appeared from nowhere, flipping onto the ledge beside him.

Peter sighed, his Spidey-sense tingling, not from danger but from trouble. "Wade. Shouldn’t you be off annoying the Avengers or something?"

Deadpool gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "How could I ever abandon you, my snarky soulmate? Besides, I brought tacos. Wanna share?" He held up a greasy bag and grinned.

Peter's stomach growled despite himself. "No. I don't trust food from you. Ever."

"Fine, Mr. Suspicious," Wade replied, rolling his eyes. He took one out, lifting his mask over his nose and chomped on it rather happily.

“Anyway… didja miss me? Of course you did! How could you not? I'm your best friend, after all.”

“You’re my something, that’s for sure,” Peter replied dryly, shifting away slightly to create some distance.

They stayed like that in some silence. Then Deadpool finally spoke again.

“So anyway… I heard something Intresting… apparently good ole Stark is planning to move the Avengers HQ somewhere else soon.

Spider-Man froze. "...Who told you that?"

"Sources, Spidey. I have sources," Deadpool said simply. “Also… he announced it to us…” he added after.

Peter looked down, processing what he had just told him. “Mister Stark never told me anything…”

Wade observed the hero curiously, noticing his disappointment. He shrugged again.

“I guess that’s what you get for leaving the Avengers. And because of me for all reasons…” he offered a small grin, which was visible due to the fact that his mask was still up over his nose from eating the tacos.

Peter hesitated and sighed. “Yeah… I guess you’re… right…”

Of course Deadpool was right. Spider Man was the one who decided to leave the Avengers. All because he couldn’t stand being on the same team Wade was on. Was he just being immature? Letting his annoyance of the merc get the best of him?

After another moment of silence Peter had enough. He wanted to be alone. Or… he felt he needed to be alone. He sat up more and prepared himself to shoot a web at a distant rooftop. “Look, Wade, I don’t have time for this… I-”

Deadpool then suddenly lunged at him without warning. “What’s this?! Leaving already? Without a bro-hug?!”

Peters eyes widened in surprised and annoyance. He tried to break free, but Wade was just stronger than him despite his Spider Man strength. He grabbed him firmly and tackling him onto the rooftop.

“Get off me!” Peter shouted, trying to wriggle free.

“Relax, I’m just being friendly!” Wade declared, pinning him down with alarming enthusiasm. “And by ‘friendly,’ I mean invasive!” He said playfully.

As Peter squirmed to escape, Wade’s fingers accidentally brushed against his side.

Small sounds escaped the younger hero.

“Was… was that a giggle?” Deadpool froze, looking down at him.

“No!” Peter shouted, trying to twist away.

“Oh my god… It was!” Wade grinned with excitement. “Spidey is ticklish! This is gold! Not that I’m shocked… I totally called it forever ago…”

Peter managed to shove him suddenly, and leaped backward, holding his hands out defensively. "Wade, don’t even think about…"

Too late. Deadpool lunged, fingers wriggling like a toddler aiming for a cookie jar. Peter backflipped away and dodged, using his reflexes to stay out of reach.

"You can’t escape forever, Spidey…!" Wade cackled, zipping behind him.

"You're insane!" Peter shouted, dodging another swipe.

"That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!" Deadpool grinned.

And so the chase was on. Spider Man had vaulted over chimneys and swung between water towers, but Deadpool kept chasing and getting closer with his own enhanced skills, his laughter echoing through the night.

Finally, Peter made the mistake of looking back mid-swing. Wade took the opportunity to grab the web line and grab Peter mid-air, tackling the Spider hero to the nearest rooftop.

"Time for some tickles web-head!" Wade declared, fingers poised and ready.

"Wade… don’t you da- GAHH! STOP!"

Spider Man finally bursted into laughter, squirming under the merc as Deadpool's fingers found their target, digging into his sides.

"You are ticklish!" Deadpool exclaimed triumphantly. Grinning as if he got the best Christmas present ever.

"GEhEhehet oHOHOhohoff!" Peter cried out in his giggles, kicking and flailing. "Thihihis ihIHiHis CHIHihildihihish!!!"

"Childish? Nah. Hilarious? Absolutely!" Wade laughed as he kept going, clearly enjoying himself far too much.

He found Spider Man’s tummy next and dug in. The red and blue clad hero squealed and squirmed more.

“Aha! Uh oh… someone’s a little weak here…” Deadpool grinned. “And just feel those abs… you’ve been working out for me~”

��WAHAHAHAHADE PLEHEHEAHAHASE SATAHAHAHAP!!!”

The merc chuckled, “Using manners now, are we? Someone’s desperate~”

He then shoved his hands into the younger man’s under arms and dug in gently.

Peter shrieked and convulsed. Wheezing more. “WAHHAHAHADE WAHAHAHAADE PLEHEHEEHEHAHAHAHAA!!!”

Deadpool grinned. “If you weren’t so sensitive about your identity remaining hidden, and if I wasn’t so respectful of it, I’d totally yank that mask off to see your cute giggly face~”

Peter felt he would truly die if the complete idiot didn’t stop. The teasing was just making jt worse too. He hated that he was too ticklish for his own good, and god he hated even more so that Deadpool of all people had to find out.

He soon finally managed to regain control over one arm and shot a web at Deadpool's face, temporarily blinding him.

"A-Ah! Hey! No fair!" Wade protested as he tried to pull the web off his mask.

Peter scrambled back quickly, gasping for breath. His heart going a mile a minute. "S-Serves you right…” he gasped out, slowly regaining his composure. “You can't just go around tickling people Wade!"

Wade finally freed his eyes, adjusting his mask. "Awww why not? It’s cute when you giggle instead of being so serious.”

Peter rolled his eyes. "You’re a moron.”

"And you're adorable when you're laughing, you should do it more.” Wade shot back with a wink.

"Shut up, Wade." Peter huffed trying to ignore the warmth filling his cheeks, as well as the fact that his heart was still very much pounding. He was all too glad he was able to keep his face covered with his mask. He sighed and shot a web, swinging off into the night.

Deadpool waved after him. "See you later, giggles!"

As Peter disappeared into the skyline, Deadpool then looked to the readers and grinned. "Totally worth it."

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inneedofsupervision · 10 months ago

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So, you got Detention

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

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

Read on Ao3

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

It began with oversleeping.

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

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

"Are those capers?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Parker, Thompson! Detention!"

"Fuck you, Parker."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, Pete. How was school?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The silence only lasts a few seconds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You've got detention?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You shot PSAs? They still do these?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Last warning, Pete."

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you following the rules, Steve?"

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

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

"Sorry, Mr. Stark!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn't get very far.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks, Clint."

"No problem, Cap."

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

"Hey! Stohop it!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Sohohomebody hehelp!"

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

"I hahahete you, Bihihirdman 2!"

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

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

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

"NOHOHOTHING, IT'S NOTHINIHIN!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Buck, a little help here?"

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

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

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

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

"We're not done yet, Queens."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve raises an eyebrow in question.

Peter grins at him.

"Some Captain America PSAs."

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

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valiantphantomangel · 3 months ago

Text

Snow!

A V's scareoween special.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah well I'm an adult!"

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

"I heard that!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#v's scareoween #tickle fic #lee!reader #marvel tickle #ticklish!reader #ticklish ribs #tickle punishment #steve rogers #tony stark #bucky barnes #ler!steve #ler!bucky #lee!peter #peter parker #ler!tony

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berrys-hide-out · 9 months ago

Text

Through thunderstorms and arguments- Call for help!

Summary; Peter finds Thor and Loki training and ends up wanting to see the cool move! Too bad the god of thunder has been hanging out too much with his mischievous little brother and things take a hysterical turn.

A/N; I changed a few things from the original ask which was sent by @inneedofsupervision but I desperately hope it turned out to your liking! (Apologies again for the wait! Still recovering 🩷🫂) ENJOY!!! ✨

Warnings; tickles and a lil fancy swearing form Loki!

———————-

It was storming outside, hail clattered against the windows of cars and houses, raindrops fell like someone was dumping buckets of water onto earth and the wind changed the direction of it all every few minutes.

Peter watched in silence as the white pieces fell past the huge windows of the 100th floor of SI. He watched the clouds that sometimes lit up which was followed by crackling thunder.

It was loud, sure. Being so close to the clouds and roof; things always sounded a little louder but the soundproofed walls gave a bit of relief to it all.

The thunder could be unsettling after awhile.. you’d think he’d have gotten used to his sensibilities by now but in truth it wasn’t something that he could just ignore.

His mind wandered as he watched the spectacle, Thor and Loki were currently in the tower..

Thinking of Thor and Loki, where were they anyways? His eyes lifted and flew over the rather quiet common room.

Steve and Bucky were watching TV on the couch, Natasha and Tony sat by the table, the billionaire busy with something on his hologram while the super spy was halfheartedly watching the Tv.

“Where are Loki and Thor?” He asked as his feet took him towards the table. His voice seemed weirdly loud.. It felt almost criminal to disturb the silence.

Natasha looked at him „Probably training while the training room isn’t occupied“ Tony looked up as well „Yeah, pretty sure point break and reindeer games are trying to get along a little better.“ he stated in a bored tone, probably having heard the two gods bickering earlier today.

If Tony didn’t hear them Peter was positive Friday warned him about it.

„Alright I’ll go have a look then.“ „yep, don’t get between them Pete!“ Steve called after him wich earned him a chuckle and a two finger salute „Sure thing captn‘!“ he called before turning around, putting his hands into his pockets and heading off towards the training room.

He was two corners away from his destination when he already heard bickering. Peter chuckled, how can two gods bicker so much? They’ve been at it for hours!

„THOR! Let me down this instant!“ „Brother, stop struggling already or we won’t be able to do get help!“

Peter’s curiosity instantly spiked and he jogged the last steps, head poking into the room.

Sure enough he saw Thor holding Loki up, ready to throw while the younger squirmed uselessly.

„You will not throw me you insolent oaf!“ Loki yelled before getting tossed onto the mats, taking out the smaller ones that were standing up mere seconds before.

„I still hate it.“ Loki grumbled as he sat up. „I find it rather amusing.“ Thor grinned at his brother who sent him a dirty look „no it is not. It’s humiliating.“

Peter sniggered, earning their immediate attention. „Little spider!“ Thor grinned happily „hey kid.“

„heya! That was an awesome move!“ he grinned as he walked in, his grin widened when he saw Loki roll his eyes.

„Indeed! I am glad you’ve decided to join us on the matter! Loki doesn’t seem to be on the same page as us..“ Thor grinned and eyed Loki shortly. Peter nodded animatedly „can you show me? The whole move I mean?“

„I am not doing that again.“ Loki growled at his brother who was already looking at him with expectancy and a playful grin. The boy huffed „aw, why not? It’s such an awesome move!“ he gushed.

Loki squinted at him, seemingly trying to figure out if he was joking or not. Then his eyes caught Thors and he saw his own mischief twinkle right back at him.

Peter was about to ask something else only to gasp when Thor picked him up by sneaking under his arm „Let’s reenact the move together then litte spider!” He grinned.

The boy however could only huff. His feet were slightly off the ground and no matter how far he tried to bend his feet for his toes to reach the ground it just wasn’t enough.

With slight shock and bit of embarrassment he came to realise that was hanging there like a slack sack of potatoes.

An awkward slack sack of potatoes.

He was halfheartedly hanging over Thors neck and slightly his shoulder. The gods hand supported him by the ribs and the other held the arm that was draped over him.

Peter huffed at his predicament “can you lower me slightly? Please?” Loki sniggered at his question and shook his head as he stood up “Don’t worry Peter, it’ll get better” he reassured.

Peter did not feel reassured. The playful gleam in the tricksters eyes and the sly grin did nothing to reassure him- in fact his nerves lit up instantly and he shook his head. “No I’m su-HURE!”

The boy was interrupted by his own squeak and jump when the strong hand squeezed the spot by his ribs and he snapped to look at Thor with wide eyes and a betrayed glare. The god however just grinned down at him and winked.

Peter blushed- they were not actually about to team up on him after bickering the whole day through! Right!?

Peter heard the tricksters dark laugh rumble through his chest- if he wouldn’t have super hearing he’d only see him holding back his amusement.

“You have to stay committed little spider!” Thor announced happily as he nudged Peter’s ribs again, this time with a lot more intent as his knuckles rushed past his ribs.

Peter sputtered a laugh and he forced his legs up quickly to try and curl up. Loki grinned and shared an amused glance with Thor. “ahAhaha! nOhO! ThoHOhor!” The kid squeaked out between laughs.

Thor laughed with him and let up on the tickling. Peter’s legs lowered but before he could shoot Thor a dirty glare Loki walked closer to them “honestly Thor, don’t torture Starks kid” he mused and then squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “You need to call out for help to make it seem authentic”

Peter squinted at Loki “shouldn’t Thor be calling for help? I’m supposed to play the victim!” He argued. He was not about to call for help! Plus! He told Captain Rogers he wouldn’t get between them which basically translates do not get into trouble with them!

Loki clicked his tongue. “Details, details” he waved Peter off and went behind them.

The boy tried craning his neck as much as he could in his position but Loki positively vanished behind them.

“Y-You know what?” Peter blabbed nervously with a small grin “mihister stark said youhu were aharguing today morning-NA-HO!” He squeaked and batted at Lokis hands that were now right by his sides “come on guys I’m nohot calling for help!”

Thor hummed “Let’s help him out then why won’t we Loki?” The god in question sniggered darkly “Oh we definitely should brother”

Peter shook his head but the silly grin on his face only encouraged Thor with his and his brothers shenanigans.

“Nohoooo, come oh-HON! NoHOho!” The boy tensed and pulled his legs up again the second Lokis nimble fingers sprung into action, skittering over his sides over the thin shirt that Pete was now dearly regretting to have worn today.

“Come on Peter, just call for help and we can continue with the move” Thor tried to encourage, Peter cursed internally at the amusement in the gods voice. How dare he!

“Mmhm-noHOho!” He giggled, trying to at least make this hard for the gods by trying to hold his giggles, but alas it was all in vain as Lokis fingers sought out the spot that made him react most.

Peter shook his head and squealed when the trickster dug into his highest rib. “LOHOKIEHEE!” “My, my, seems I’ve found a sweet spot.” The god chuckled into his ear. “EHEhEYEE! nOHOh YOuhUHu HaHAveHEhen’t!” “Hmno? You’re saying there’s a spot worse than… this?” Peter bucked again when the god dug in with a lot more precision then before “NOAHA! IHI DiHIhidn’T SAHAhay ThAHAHat!”

“I don’t know young spiderling! Sure sounded like it!” Thor chuckled as he kept the boy off the ground. It was quite a task with all his squirming. Peter shook his head through bursts of laughter. Loki sniggered and let one of his hand slip to Peter’s hip.

The boy kicked out harshly and hit the poor god of thunder’s shin. The god grunted and hissed, kneeling down slightly. Loki halted before falling into mused chuckling.

“ohoho god IHi’m sohoho sohohorry!” Peter giggled as the god made his theatrics about his shin and let the kid go. Thor rubbed his shin with a soft groan “you have quite the kick little spider!” He goaded.

Peter gave a giddy smile and opened his mouth to say something before the god smirked “but not quite to take down a god yet!” He boasted and jumped the kid.

Peter screeched and grappled with Thor over the mats.

Loki shook his head at their antics. “Really brother? We had him perfectly trapped and great for the move!” He reminded and walked along the mats, watching as Thor gave the giggly kid little chance of winning.

“We still have to encourage the little spider brother! I’m sure this will be beneficial!” The god boasted.

Peter giggled wildly and fended off the gods hands as best he could “NOho! iHIhi’m not cAHalling for help!” Thor sniggered with him, the kid had a soft blush on his cheeks and playfulness was written all over his face. “But you have to! The move won’t be complete otherwise young Stark!”

Peter kicked out when Thor almost managed to pinch his ribs “THoHO-AAH!” He yelled in surprise when his leg was pulled and his knee was squeezed “LOhOKI!” He scolded playfully, sending the god a glare- but the god simply sent him a sly grin- damn his own traitorous smile!

With the short distraction Thor squeezed his ribs. “NAHAO! ThIHIHis IHIs UnfAHAhair! aHAAhAhahA!” Loki chuckled as he traced the boys knee, sending ticklish shocks through his whole system while Thor was on a journey down to his sides. “How do you mortals say, Pete? All is fair in love and war?” The trickster mused and swiped a finger up Peter’s sole at which the boy tugged at his leg harshly.

“nAA-HA! LOhOHOki!- ThOHoHOr! THIHiHIs IhIsnt fAhaHair!” Peter exclaimed again, his hands latching onto Thors wrists- yet he barely pulled at them.

“Cohome on Young spiderling! You just have to call out for help and that’s it” his amusement of the situation grew when Peter shook his head- what a stubborn little mortal..

“Alright.. well then..”

“NAHA! THOHOAHAR! CHEHEAHATEHEHER!” Peter threw his head back, fighting with his instincts to squeeze the god’s hands there which only seemed to make it worse- or try to grapple at them- which resulted in hilarious flailing.

Loki sniggered, but he couldn’t let his brother win this, mischief was his thing after all.

His slender fingers wrapped around Peter’s knee and his fingers scribbled along the backs of them.

The reaction was immediate, Peter’s leg slammed down on the mat only to jump back up with a high pitched yelp. “Oh? Are you hiding something Peter?” Loki mused and Thor let up on his tickles “what have you found brother?” “He- hehe found nohothing!” Peter protested but the two gods ignored him “See here..” Loki said which followed by his fingers squeezing and slightly wiggling into the spot. “NAHAO! LOHOKI! WehEHe can TAHAhalk Ahabout thIHIHIhis!”

The gods sniggered at the volume change each time Loki decided to continue his little game. “Aw, but we did talk Peter. You call for help and this aaaaall stops.” To let the kid talk he let up slightly The boy pouted at the god, his brown locks more disheveled then he’s ever seen them and slightly red cheeks. Loki sighed “I believe, brother, I should teach you a few things on tickling.” He stated, a sly smirk threatening to pull on his face when Peter’s cheeks flushed a tone deeper.

Thor chuckled “alright, have it your way.”

Peter gaped at him. NO WAY were they just AGREEING!

“W-Wait- Lohoki, come ohon we can fihigure this out- look youhu’re gettihing ahalong too! Mahaybe you can make uhup now??” peter blabbed as Loki moved closer and Thor away.

Loki chuckled darkly “your futile attempts of distractions are not working” peter couldn’t help the high pitched anticipatory giggle that slipped him as the god hovered over him.

“Ehe- you know- I-HAY!” Peter almost jumped out of his skin as Lokis hand rushed towards him.

“What happened Pete?” The boys eyes grew wide- oh. Oh.

He huffed and stared challengingly at the god. He’s heard of the wrath of the god of mischief. But.. he could handle it, he’s won Mister Stark’s attacks!

His challenging glare didn’t last long as the mischief practically dripped from the god. “What are you afraid of the tickles?” Loki asked as if it were like any other conversation.

Peter shook his head with a high pitched giggle. “N-no!” “No? So you shouldn’t mind..” Loki stopped above Peter’s stomach- surprised that the boy already flinched away.

Despite himself he moved his hand towards his side and flexed it- Peter, to his delight jumped again and moved closer to the god and away from the hand.

“Peter.” Loki stated and gained the boys attention.

“Whahat?”

“Are you by chance…. Air ticklish?”

“uh oh” muttered Peter in utter disbelief before a steady stream of giggles escaped him. Loki’s collected expression turned to one of pure delight and mischief “oh boy.. this just got a lot more entertaining.”

Peter squeaked when the younger god made claws. “NOhOho!” The boy whined through his flustered and giggly predicament.

Thor suddenly jumped from next to Loki.

“EHEEE!”

The squeal echoed through the training room much to the gods amused and adoration at the boy- the boy himself- as if finally remembering he was free, turned around and tried crawling away.

He squeaked when a strong hand wrapped around his ankle “now hold on little spiderling!” Thor chuckled. Peter laughed at the silliness- before he could however think of how to make this harder for the gods, arms wrapped around his torso “Now I gotcha!” Loki growled and flung the boy back as if he weighted nothing.

Peter laughed without either of them even touching him- “are you laughing at us young Stark!?” Thor asked in disbelief and crossed his arms. “NOhOho!” Peter tried to reassure but failed expertly. Loki sniggered “I believe he is dear brother.. better give him something to laugh about huh?”

Thor grinned “I do believe you’re right brother” he mused.

Loki sniggered “ready to call for help yet Petey?” He muttered into his ear and the boy scrunched up with a barking a laugh “NEhEhEVER!” He declared boldly.

Loki tutted and looked at his brother. “Stark said his thighs and knees are ticklish.”

Thor chuckled at the protest of a shriek that came from Peter which though was quickly drowned by hysterical laughter as Lokis fingers went into his pits.

The god of thunder didn’t wait long for his own entrance and squeezed the boys thigh which, amusingly enough, with each squeeze they gained a higher squeal out of the boy.

Loki chuckled and shook his head, the boy could lean left or right and roll off, he could even put up a fight with his strength.. and yet..

“AHYEHE! OHOKAY!” Peter barked out and the gods let up.

Loki raised an eyebrow “you’ll call for help?” He mused and waited as the boy caught his breath.

Peter stifled most of his giggles before his hand went to squeeze Lokis own side.

To the boys surprise and glee Loki jumped.

The god sent him a warning glare “peter I’d truly advise against that” “why?” The boy grinned up at the god. “May I remind you that I am a god?”

Peter’s own mischief twinkled in his eyes “Thor will probably help me..” he mused. Loki raised an eyebrow “probably?” He mused “my brother is worse than me Buddy.”

Peter’s eyes widened at that “b-but we’ll be two!” He smiled timidly. Loki huffed “Are you going to call for help or not?”

The boy’s shoulders jumped as he chuckled through his nose.

Loki grinned “Unbelievable..” he hushed and looked at Thor. “You know, there’s a specific technique that got Thor to give in when we were children.” He said and watched as his brothers confusion morphed into surprise and glee.

Peter swallowed nervously and giggled “Thihis isn’t one ohof your Ahasgardian things right?” Loki laughed “No, this works all too perfectly on mortals”

Peter shivered at the sly grin. His silly grin fought its way right back onto his face “n-now hold on, no need for drastic- MEASURES!” He yelped when Loki suddenly rapidly squeezed and scribbled his side which sent sparks through his whole body. “HEHEY!” He squeaked and leaned away- falling onto the mats, front first, the gods hand on his back. “Uh-huh- Loki?” Peter asked and hoisted himself onto his elbows as he slowly understood his position- his face would lay awkwardly on the mats if he tried to shield his armpits. But if he kept his face from squeezing onto the mats they’d be open wide.

Loki chuckled at the giddy expression on the boys face. “You gonna call for help?”

Again. Peter shook his head.

It was fair to say that the god was not only surprised at the will to play but also at the stamina of the kid.

“Oh you’re asking for it.” He smirked down at the boy.

Peter squeaked in surprise at the demeanour change but didn’t get to dwell on it as the hands plummeted into his armpits.

“LOHOKIEHEHEEE!” Peter kicked his legs into the mats to try and relieve the tickle shocks even if only just lightly- Lokis nimble fingers found the sweet spot with practiced ease and vibrated on one armpit while on the other he scribbles.

Peter was probably loosing his lil head in the playful moment but the raging storm outside was positively forgotten.

“NAHAHAY! TOHOHOR!” Peter’s new protest made Loki look back and find Thors bold hands tickle the soles of the poor kid.

Chuckles from the door which ripped Lokis attention away from his attack and his hands slowed down enough for Peter to crank an eye open. “MIHIST- EHEY!” The boy scolded through his laughter and turned to look at Thor.

The billionaire in the doorway laughed “alright you two, let the kid up. I still need him today for lab time” Thor chuckled “do not worry stark! You’ll have young Stark with you in no time.” He mused. Loki rolled his eyes and sniggered “you good kid?”

Peter laughed but nodded and pushed Loki playfully “ahabout the move; IHi’m soho on your side- but I aham also so gehetting you back someday”

Loki raised a challenging eyebrow and then slowly, his ‘claws’.

Peter squeaked and rolled away “nohot today!” He laughed and got to his feet, hands in front of his body to protect himself.

The men laughed in choir.

“Loki we should continue training.” Thor stated, full of new enthusiasm. Loki glared at him “we are not doing get help” Thor grinned at him “we should.” Loki frowned “Peter—“

“NOPE! YOU GOT THIS!” Peter yelled with a laugh as he rushed out of the room.

The two gods laughed heartedly at the boys exit with Stark and got up. Maybe they could get along for awhile every now and again.

Meanwhile let’s hope Steve will be just as merciful as mister Stark was on Peter.

“Don’t get in trouble with them, huh?” His mentor asked with his smirk obvious in his voice.

Peter rolled his eyes with an obvious smile and flushed cheeks, his hand going through his disheveled hair.

Never mind..

#berry talks #Lee!peter #lee!peter parker #ticklish!peter parker #lee!spiderman #ler!Loki #ler!Thor #tickle fic #marvel tickles #I should sleep 🥹#just finished editing it and didn’t wanna wait any longer #I feel like it didn’t end up being as expressive as I wanted #but it’s way too late for me aaaand things are in the eye of the beholder right?#HOPE YOU ENJOYED ANYWAYS!! 🎉

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gigglz · 1 year ago

Text

Peace and Quiet.

Lee!Peter Ler!Loki

(this is a tickle fic!! Purely fluff! NSFW don’t interact.)

Summary: Loki is trying to relax, but a little pesky teenager is bothering him with questions upon questions upon questions. God, someone make this kid shut up!

Author’s note: The fic is pretty short! Also this is my first fic in 6 months so im sorry if its not the best😭

Word count: 1.2k+

———————————————————————

It was a quiet evening. The Avengers were away on a mission, so Loki was left alone at the tower… or so he thought.

Loki was deep in the storyline of his current book of choice, relaxing peacefully on the couch as he read.

Suddenly, he heard the front door open as someone let themselves in.

Peter walked into the living room, where Loki was sitting. “Hey guys! I- oh…” He paused, looked around for a second, and then spoke again.

“Wheres.. uhm… wheres Mr.Stark?” Peter said nervously, clearing his throat.

Loki shrugged, not bothering to explain where the Avengers were.

“Okay well…” Peter stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before setting his backpack down near the entrance and walking over to the couch.

Peter plopped down, and Loki groaned silently.

Peter spoke “O-Oh i can move-“ “No, it’s fine.” Loki cut him off, a little irritated that his peace was disturbed.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, which Loki didn’t mind, but Peter, being Peter, couldn’t bare the silence.

“What’re you reading?” Peter turned to look at Loki.

“…A book.” Loki responded, lazily turning the page.

“Ah… nice… what book?” He asked more specifically.

Loki glanced at the cover “Lord of the Flies…” He went back to reading.

“Oh! Ive read that one!” Peter perked up.

Loki glanced at Peter. “…You have?”

“Yeah… a while ago.” Peter said enthusiastically.

“Hm.” Loki hummed and went back to reading.

Peter didn’t know what else to say, he was trying to make small talk, but that obviously didn’t work.

Peter spoke again, much to Lokis annoyance. “Can I ask you a question?” He blurted out.

Loki sighed, he thought maybe its just better to get this over with and then he can get back to his peace and quiet. “Go ahead.”

“Okay, cool. So… how… how is it like being here on earth and seeing all these stories about you?” Peter asked, he was genuinely interested.

Loki thought about it for a second. “…Its weird, but i am a god so i would expect no less.” Loki said, being his usual egoistical self.

“…Right.” Peter paused, and then asked again. “What were you thinking while trying to invade New York?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “I’ll let you know, that thats in the past. I’ve realized that being king of Earth would be pretty… underwhelming.”

Peter nodded, even thought he’s pretty sure Loki had just called ‘humans’ dumb he wasn’t going to press it. “Why are you still here? Why not go back to Asgard?”

Loki sighed, the kid was starting to get on his nerves. “I did go, but then i was imprisoned. So after that i decided to come here, lay low.”

Peter nodded again, feeling more relaxed around the ‘god’. “What are your powers?”

Loki turned another page, biting the inside of his cheek. Just a few more and then the kid will leave him alone. “I have many.”

“Like what?” Peter asked, resting his head on his hand and looking at Loki.

“…Illusions.” Loki was getting really irritated, he responded dryly.

“…And?” Peter leaned a little closer.

Loki sighed. “…shapeshifting.”

Peter looked at Loki like he was expecting something more. “Thats it?”

“No.” Loki answered.

Peter stared for a few seconds, waiting for Loki to say something more. “Then what else?”

Loki brought up his hand to rub his eyes. Why wont the kid shut up?? “Mind control.”

“Thats it?” Peter asks again.

Loki groans louder. “…no, thats not it.”

“What else?” Peter asks innocently, he really is just curious.

Loki keeps repeating the same two words in his head ‘don’t yell, don’t yell, don’t yell.’ “A lot more stuff.” Loki replies blandly.

Peter twists his head to the side “Like what?” He really wasn’t trying to annoy anyone, he just wanted to know.

Loki turns to look at the kid.

Peters curious expression turns to confusion. “…what?”

Loki murmurs something to himself. “…nothing.” He turns back to his.

“So…….. like mind control..?” Peter asks quietly.

Loki sighs. “I just said that.”

“Oh. Right….” Peter thinks for a second. “So.. teleportation?”

Loki closes his book, very annoyed. “Do you ever shut up??”

Peter is taken aback but the sudden outburst. “I- what..?”

Loki narrows his eyes. “You’re clearly disrupting me. Im trying to read. Don’t you know the others are on a mission? Why are you here???”

Peter scoots back a little. “I uh… i didn’t know..?”

Loki tries to calm down. “Go do something. I don’t know, go to Starks lab for gods sake!” He waves his hand dismissively.

“I would but uhh… its always locked.” Peter says, unaware of how annoyed Loki is.

Loki puts his head in his hands, reminding himself he isn’t allowed to hurt the boy.

Theres a moment of silence… before Peter breaks it. “…you want tea?”

Lokis eye twitches, thats it. “Im done. You’re done.” Loki grabs Peter’s ankle, and pulls him down flat on the couch.

Peter yelps. “W-waitwaitwait!!” Peter puts his hands in front of his face, to shield himself.

“Im not going to hurt you.” Loki says with an angry tone.

Peter removes his hands from in front of his face, a look of confusion plastered on it.

“Y’know Stark talks about you when he’s drunk. Its quite amusing, some valuable information he gives us.” Loki states, with and edge of amusement in his tone.

“W-what do you mean?” Peter asks nervously.

Loki groans at the question, enough with the questions. “This ought to calm you down.”

Before Peter can ask of what Loki means for the second time, he sees Lokis hands dart to his sides.

Peter yelps. “Wait! No! Hold on!”

“Shut up.” Loki starts squeezing Peter’s sides rapidly.

“Gahah! Wahait!” Peter squirms, trying to fight Lokis hands off.

“Don’t try and fight me.” As he sees the kid laughing he cant help but smirk to himself.

“Wai-no! Plehease! Im-nahaha!” As Peter tries to form words in between his laughter Loki chuckles.

“Oh now you decide to shut up?” Loki says teasingly.

Peter shakes his head, his cheeks becoming a warm shade of pink.

“No? Youre not going to shut up?” Loki hums, switching to tickle his stomach instead.

“AHAH! Thahats not what ihi meheheant!!” As Peter squirms wildly Loki has a harder time holding onto him.

“Tell me youre not going to bother me anymore, then ill let you go.” Loki says in a monotone voice, yet theres a slight smirk present on his face.

Peter nods, too busy laughing to actually say it.

“Nonono, say it. I want to hear it.” Loki doesnt let up, his hands moving even faster.

“I cahaHANT!!” Peter threw his head back from laughter.

“Thats too bad then.” Loki suddenly dipped his hands into Peters armpits.

Peter practically howled. “OKAY OKAY OKAY!! FUHUHUCK!!” Peter shook his head violently. “IM NOHOT- IM NOT GOING TO BOHOTHER YOHOHOUAHAHA!” Peters whole body shook from laughing so much.

Loki stopped after a few seconds, chuckling.

Peter gasped for air. “Man… ah…”

Loki picked his book back up, flipping a page, smirking. “Had enough?”

Peter nodded, getting up.

“Good. Now run along, or do you want to go for round two?” Loki looked up from his book, locking eyes with Peter.

“No! No. Im good. So good.” Peter quickly got up from the couch.

Loki nodded, going back to his book.

Peter quickly went to get his backpack and went upstairs. He was definitely not going to bother the trickster god again… or at least that's what Loki thought.

#tickles #sfw tickles #tickle #tickle community #tword #tword community #tickle fic #tword content #marvel tickle #lee!peter1 #lee!peter #lee!peterparker #lee!peter parker #ler!loki #tickle marvel #marvel tickle fic #mcu tickle fic #mcu tickle #mcu tickles

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gingerlee-holds · 7 months ago

Note

OK SO!!! I had the cutest idea :3 Peter (one) and reader are either silly besties or dating or both :3 and they are both crazy tired drunk considering it’s past 3 am and because of all the silliness they get into a tword fight! (Possibly more Lee reader cause I feel like Peter would be feral when hyper and sleep deprived 🤣) and eventually Tony comes in and is like wtf is wrong with you two idiots?? GO TO BED!!! (Secretly loves seeing his kids all giggly and adorable :3 🥺❤️) and then they both end up crashing and getting sleepy but they are still a little giggly about some jokes/moments which leads to more tickles and it’s like sleepy cuddly giggly tickles 😭❤️ and then they both get supppperrrr sleepy and end up falling asleep in each others arms with smiles on their faces and tony comes back in cause he’s scared the children are dead 😂 and sees the adorableness and proceeds to post it to the avengers group chat and it ends in them waking up being like WHO THE FUCK TOOK A PICTURE OF US!? 🤣 (ok definitely mutal pining/idiots in love but they just don’t admit it yet 🥹)

okayokay so this was kinda just written with you in mind teddy xD i love ya and i hope you enjoy this silly lil fic!!

Feral

Words: 1,275 Pairing: Ler!Peter1, Lee!Reader Warnings: whoooole lotta fluff heehee

“Uno!” you called out. You grinned to yourself as you glared playfully over your final card at Peter, who had somehow collected fifteen cards throughout the game. His eyes squinted suspiciously as he hesitantly placed down the yellow three before he jolted backward in shock when you slammed down the red three, winning you the game.

“C’mon!” Peter fell sideways onto the carpet with a groan. “We’ve been doing this for five hours! How have I not been able to win even once?”

“I’m just too good!” You giggled as you playfully hit his shoulder. Looking over at the clock on the wall, you saw he was correct: it was past three in the morning, and not another soul was stirring in the entire Avengers tower. Both of you had been blinking sleep from your eyes for a while, but neither wanted to go to bed. Most of the other heroes had missions they were absent for, but the few still at the tower were fast asleep.

Peter yawned, bringing your attention back to him. It was so rare that you two spent so much time with each other. You missed the messy-haired hero a lot when he wasn’t around, and now that you two had the weekend mission-free, you were utterly adamant that you would make the most of it. You yawned, too. The stubbornness that made you such a valuable addition to the team was matched only by the spiderling. Grinning, you picked up the cards and began to reshuffle them.

“No, please, no more,” Peter whined sleepily, smiling despite his tone. “Can we play something else?”

“Like… Battleship? You know I’m always down to beat you again,” you giggled and stuck out your tongue. The two of you may have been on par with stubbornness, but you had him and everyone else soundly beat when it came to board games, to the degree that Tony insists you’re somehow cheating.

“Absolutely not! I’d rather take a hive of wasps,” Peter grumbled, sitting back up with a huff. He hummed in thought before grinning. “I know a game we can play.”

You tilted your head a bit, interested. “What did you have in mind?”

“Close your eyes for a second.”

Doing as you were told, you closed your eyes, sitting perfectly still and trying to guess what Peter was doing. Unfortunately for you, Peter was among the stealthier Avengers, something he demonstrated when you felt his hands grab you from behind, scribbling over your tummy.

“We should have a tickle fight!” Peter giggled into your ear as you erupted into bubbly laughter. “This is a game I know I can win!”

“YouhuhU LihIhihIttle ShihihIhihit! GehehEHet OhohohOFf!!” You kicked your feet, sending Uno cards flying all over the room. Peter wiggled his fingers up to your ribs, and your laughter kicked up a notch as you thrashed about in his grasp.

“I’ll do no such thing! I’m stronger than you, little cutie!”

Your face instantly began heating up. Whether or not the tease was intentional, it was extraordinarily flustering to hear from Peter Parker. You swatted at his hands as you squeaked, and, so experienced to losing tickle fights, Peter knowledgeably grabbed one of your wrists and held it up so he could scribble in the hollow of your underarm, making you shriek in surprise.

Suddenly, you both heard the unmistakable sound of a middle-aged man clearing his throat in disapproval. Looking over, you both saw a very grumpy Tony Stark leaning against the doorway.

The silence hung in the air for a while before Peter whispered, “You can almost see the smoke coming out of his ears,” and the two of you burst into hysterical giggles.

Tony groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose in fond agitation. “I would ask what you two kids are doing awake this late at night, but I don’t want to know. Bedtime is now-time.” He pointed to the two twin beds in either corner of the room, then folded his arms over his chest. “You two have got to start going to bed on time.”

Peter giggled a little more, saying, “But that would be such a stark difference from what we usually do!” His pun made you both again dissolve into sleepy, senseless laughter.

Sighing, Tony again cleared his throat. It was very obvious to all the other inhabitants of the tower that Tony utterly adored the two youngest members of the team. He was clearly struggling to speak seriously before the two giggly children on the carpet. “Peter,” he said firmly, giving him that look that the spiderling instantly took to mean he had reached the limit.

“Yes, Mr. Stark. Sorry, Mr. Stark. We’ll go to bed right away, Mr. Stark.”

Tony grinned wearily and nodded. “I’ll check back in half an hour. If you two aren’t asleep by then, I’m changing the Wifi password.” With that, he left and shut the door behind him.

It turns out the two young heroes didn’t even have the strength to make it into their beds. Still in a clingy mood from your tickles, you held onto Peter’s arm tightly, and both of you made a concerted effort to reach his bed, but in the end, collapsed onto Peter’s bean bag. You both yawned simultaneously, giggling about Peter’s bad jokes.

The spiderling smiled, encouraged by your giggles. His hand slowly reached down and began tracing up your side. “The itsy bitsy spiderrrr…” Peter mumbled, slurring his words in exhaustion.

You felt your face heating up again and scooted away from his hand, inadvertently snuggling closer to Peter. “Dohohohon’t!”

“Dohon’t what, cutie?”

Whining, you were too sleepy to squirm away as he continued gently tracing your sides. “Tihihickle meeee…” you mumbled.

“That’s what I’m doing, silly~!”

You huffed and buried your face in his shoulder. “Jeheherk!” Although you didn’t say so, the tickles were very relaxing, almost lulling you to sleep -more than almost. When his breath finally evened out to sleep, you didn’t stand a chance. Both of you were out like lights.

Tony walked back in, expecting to deal with more patented Peter Snark. To his surprise, he saw the two little heroes tuckered out on the beanbag, holding each other tightly with big cozy smiles on both of their faces. Tony pressed a button on his glasses, taking a secret photo, before pulling it up on his phone to send to the official Avengers group chat, followed by a heart emoji. He yawned and shut the door behind him. Going to sleep sounded like a pretty good idea.

The chipper chirps of midday birdsong were interrupted by a shriek of embarrassment. “Wake up. Peterpeterpeter, wake the hell-!” You shoved at his shoulder frantically, not looking up from your phone.

The spiderling jolted awake, mumbling a Star Wars reference that was quickly cut off by a gasp when he looked at his phone. It was noon - they were supposed to be awake for combat training five hours ago! But that wasn’t the worst: the Avengers group chat had been active. He looked back through the messages, his face redder and redder as he read through the messages filled with the other Avengers gushing over the adorableness of the two young heroes. Peter finally reached a message from Tony, and upon seeing the image of the two of them snuggling together, he looked up, wide-eyed, at you. You looked at him right back.

A heartbeat.

Cuties.

You both cleared your throats and stood, quickly running to prepare for training. However, you not-so-subtly saved the image to your camera roll, making you smile every time you saw it.

#kayde wrote something woah #avengers tickle #avengers tickle fic #marvel tickle #marvel tickle fic #mcu tickle #mcu tickle fic #lee!reader #ler!peter parker #ler!peter1 #peter parker x reader tickle #kayde's in a lee mood tag

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lerexclamationpointpeter · 9 months ago

Text

•guessing game•

Peter’s Spider-Sense alerts him, but there is no danger.

CW: tickle fic, horrendously disgusting tooth-rotting fluff, romantic relationship, angry!Pete, flirting, teasing, kisses (no tongue 😐👍), cursing, ultimately sfw but has some suggestive tones, mention of web restraints 🫠, fem!reader, you are basically this universe’s MJ, imagine any version of Peter you want (you could even come up with your own version 👀)

Peter and the reader are in an established relationship

Bold text means it’s a flashback

Slanted text is for emphasis

Small slanted text is a thought that wasn’t said out loud

Enjoy

Partially inspired by this post from @sugars-fluffy-escapes

It had been a long day. Peter was exhausted.

It started just like any other day. He woke up, ate breakfast, brushed his teeth, kissed you goodbye, and headed to class.

Of course, going to school never quite worked out for him.

He was lucky if he was able to attend all of his classes for the day (attend, not be there for the entire lecture). Today, he didn’t make it to any classes.

Why? Because Doc Ock got bored and decided to play New York City Sandbox Simulator. Pete swore this guy became a super villain just to have something to do.

The fight lasted almost all day. By the time Peter got home, you could tell he was pissed.

After hearing him knock on the window, you rushed over to open it for him. As he climbed inside, you noticed that his entire demeanor was different.

At first, you thought he might’ve been hurt. When he took off his mask, you saw that his eyes were drooped in a way that made him appear annoyed and defeated. There was no part of his face that looked warm and welcoming. This terrified you.

Usually after patrol, he greeted you cheerfully with one of his many nicknames for you. Even if he seemed sad or upset, he at least did that.

This time, he didn’t even make eye contact with you. All he said to you was, “Thanks,” and then he beelined to the bathroom to take a shower.

It was very clear that he was not in a good mood right now.

You wondered if it was a good idea to ask him what was wrong. Would that make him feel better? Would that make him snap at you? Was it best to just try to give him some space?

You crawled into bed, pulling the covers up over you. As you waited for Pete to get out of the shower, you decided that it would be best to just keep quiet until he wanted to talk.

Eventually, he emerged from the mist and steam in the bathroom. He threw on a pair of pajama pants (just pajama pants, no shirt), climbed into bed, wrapped his arms around you, and just as he was about to kiss you goodnight, he saw the look on your face.

His agitation was immediately replaced with concern.

“You okay, bug?” he leaned back to look into your eyes.

You barely looked at him before breaking eye contact. This worried him.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

You hesitated, opening your mouth to speak, but closing it instead.

“Hey,” he said, taking on a more serious tone. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

He spoke in a way that was firm, but gentle. You had a habit of bursting into tears when he did that, but you held it in this time around, not wanting to irritate him any further.

You swallowed, “I uh… Are… Are you mad at me?”

He furrowed his brows, confused.

“Why would I be mad at you?”

You made eye contact with him now, feeling a little relieved. You thought quietly for a moment before speaking.

“W-well, I just.. thought that you seemed angry and.. I didn’t know if it was something I did, or-“

“No, no, baby,” he cuts you off. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart. I could never be mad at you. It was just a hard day, that’s all.”

He holds you tighter, feeling guilty.

“I’m sorry my mug is so mean,” he whispers. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the 24 foot tall robotic octopus that keeps throwing me off of tall buildings and running away.”

He earns a small chuckle from you, easing the tension. Peter smiles, but his smile fades quickly. His expression softens as he connects the dots.

“You saw that I was mad, and your first thought.. was that I was mad at you?”

This realization affected him more than he led on. He was supposed to protect you and keep you safe. Y’know, the whole point of the superhero thing?

Instead, here he was, scaring you. Pushing you away. Making you afraid to talk to him.

You broke eye contact with him again.

Pete let out a soft, defeated sigh. He tightened his grip on you again, holding you as close as possible.

“You know I’d never hurt you?” he says, his tone firm and gentle again. “Like, ever? Never in a million years? Even if I was angry?”

You nod. You knew deep down that if Pete was mad at you, he wouldn’t even do so much as raise his voice.

He’d crawl into bed with you, just like he always does.

He’d tell you what was bugging him, you’d apologize, he’d probably apologize too for some reason, then he’d ambush you with kisses and the two of you would promptly go to bed.

“I know,” you said, feeling stupid. “I’m sorry I even-“ you start to say before you can catch yourself.

Pete makes a loud incorrect buzzer sound, startling you a little and making you laugh.

“That’s the wrong answer,” he says playfully, “You’re actually only supposed to apologize when you’ve done something wrong. Try again.”

He looks at you with a shit-eating grin. He’s done this to you so many times.

The first few times, he’d caught you in a loop, going back and forth between you accidentally apologizing, and him doing the incorrect buzzer. This time, he knew you’d stop apologizing before it could even start.

Being an annoying little shit was a gift of Peter’s. In hindsight, it was only a matter of time before he found out your biggest weakness.

He leaned his head into the crook of your neck, ready to fall asleep with you in his arms, safe and sound. But, of course, he couldn’t resist adding one more quip.

He exhaled, his hot breath hitting your skin. Every hair on your body stood up.

“Yup, that’s what I thought,” he said, his lips getting closer to your neck. His only intention was to kiss you there.

Much to his surprise (and delight), you giggled.

——————————

Ever since then, after a long, hard day of being Spider-Man, this became a tradition of some sort for the both of you.

Pete would come home after patrol, take a shower, and then absolutely wreck you. It was like his way of decompressing after a day of getting beat up.

He noticed that you didn’t really fight back, but he never questioned it.

Frankly, he was having too much fun to care.

He figured that you were just one of those people that curled up into a ball as a very poor, but very cute, way of trying to hide.

On this day in particular, Pete had spent the whole day with you. He planned for it. There was no long, hard day of being Spider-Man. This meant that you could spend some time together.

Unfortunately, that also meant that your tradition couldn’t happen today.

But you were craving it. It was the only thing you could think about.

After spending the whole day with Peter, and his teasing? You barely survived.

You and Pete laid next to each other, your head resting on his shoulder. He put on a movie a little while earlier that you weren’t really interested in.

You contemplated telling him that you weren’t into the movie, but that would put you in a situation that petrified you.

‘Is there something else that you wanna do?’

You could already hear him saying it. You could already imagine the heat moving towards your cheeks as you sit there, speechless, thinking about what the hell you could possibly say to get yourself out of this one. Even just imagining that was flustering enough.

But there was nothing wrong with thinking about it, right? No, of course not. You can enjoy your little daydream while Pete watches TV, and he’d have no idea at all that you were thinking about the night he discovered that you were ticklish.

He had no idea that you were thinking about the slow, mischievous grin that grew on his face after hearing you giggle. The way he locked eyes with you. The way he told you, “You are so fucked,” without saying anything at all. The reality setting in that the only thing you can do is wait for him to attack. Then, the reality setting in that once he attacks, the only thing you can do is wait for him to stop.

He didn’t know you were thinking about the dramatic, exaggerated stories he told as he toyed with you.

——————————

He had effectively overpowered you, sitting on your hips, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

“…And then, just when I thought it was finally over…” he paused for a comedically long time, looking directly into your eyes.

He enjoyed the tension building up. He loved making you feel the imminent dread of what was coming next. He loved the nervous giggles you let out as he stared at you with a stone-faced expression.

“…I heard his footsteps,” he teasingly walked his fingers up your side as you squirmed beneath him. “Getting closer,” he took a step, “and closer,” he took another step, “and then…” you hid behind your hands, shaking, laughing, waiting for him to strike.

When he didn’t, you peeked through your fingers, only to find that he was still staring at you. His face was still entirely serious, even though you were covering your eyes.

Why is he so committed to this bit?? Does he want to fluster me to death??

…

Yeah, of course he does, what am I even saying?

“…And then…” he paused again.

And then what??? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST GET IT OVER WITH ALREADY.

He was far too good at this.

He took an obnoxiously loud deep breath in, gathering all the air he possibly could into his lungs. And in an instant, he was blowing the world’s biggest raspberry on your tummy. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was also digging his fingers into your ribs at the same time.

You screamed so loud that you thought someone would file a noise complaint.

——————————

He didn’t know you were thinking about how strong he was. How easy it was for him to trap you in his arms. Even if you had attempted to fight back, it would’ve been useless.

He certainly had no idea that you were thinking about the time you yelled, “Stop!” and he laughed at you. You weren’t sure if he was catching on to how much you liked this, or if he was laughing because he wasn’t about to stop any time soon. Either way, he didn’t stop any time soon.

There was one thing you were very glad he didn’t know.

He didn’t know that the way he looked at you after one of those days made you weak.

You thought about how tired his eyes would look after taking his mask off. You thought about the relieved sigh he’d let out as he hugs you. The kiss he’d plant on your forehead before he tells you how awful of a day he had. The timber in his voice when he tells you you’re gonna know all about it when he gets out of the shower.

He didn’t know that as soon as the bathroom door closed, you hopped into bed, throwing the blanket over you, giggling and kicking your feet as soon as you were underneath. It was on days like that where you thanked the entire universe that Pete only took 10 minute showers.

All you could think of was how warm he’d be. How close he’d pull you to him. How many glances you’d take of his chest.

If Peter knew what you were thinking about right now, you’d be reduced to jelly in seconds. There was no way you could ever tell him about any of this.

But you wished he knew. You wished you could make him understand. But it would never happen. You’d rather get water boarded by the CIA than tell him.

Suddenly, Peter felt something. His Spider-Sense. He instinctively put an arm around you, looking around the room.

“Pete? Is something wrong?” you asked him.

He looked around the room for a little longer, scanning every area he could see. He found nothing. Everything was fine. He relaxed a little, but was still on edge.

“What’s wrong?” you asked again, feeling a little anxious now.

“Nothing, angel,” he shook his head. “I… I thought I felt my Spider-Sense.”

He thought he felt his Spider-Sense?

You always imagined that to be an obvious feeling.

“What made it go off?”

“I’m… I’m not sure. But it felt like it went off for you,” he paused. “Are you okay?”

You paused.

“I.. I think so.. Why? Am I in danger?”

Peter looked around the room again, scanning for absolutely anything dangerous. Nothing. He listened for any strange noises. Nothing. He tried to sense if anyone dangerous was in the building. Once again, nothing.

“No.. You’re completely fine,” he said, his brows still furrowed.

Now you were really confused.

“If I’m not in any danger, then… why did it go off?”

Peter closed his eyes, trying his best to focus on where this feeling was coming from. The longer he waited, the more clear it became.

It was his Spider-Sense, but it was different this time. It felt warmer. Gentler. When he was in danger, the feeling was comparable to almost getting hit by an oncoming train. Right now, it felt more like a tap on the shoulder.

Why was he getting tapped on the shoulder, and why did it make him think of you?

He opened his eyes, trying to make sense out of any of this.

A tap on the shoulder… for you?

Wait, no.

Maybe…

Maybe it’s a tap on the shoulder from you?

“Is… Is there something that you want to tell me?“ he questioned. “Is there something you feel scared to tell me?”

Uh oh.

Wait.

Hold on a minute.

How?

You tried your best to hide the shock on your face, but you already felt the warmth spreading across your cheeks. You cleared your throat.

“Uhm, w-what do you mean?” you tried. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Pete closed his eyes again. You were starting to wonder if he could read your mind.

God, you hoped he couldn’t read your mind.

“It just feels like there’s something you want to tell me, but you’re hiding it from me,” he opens his eyes. “What’s going on?”

Damn, I’m not even safe in my own head.

You couldn’t lie to him, but you also couldn’t just outright say it to him either. You didn’t think you could say this out loud even if you were completely alone with no sign of human life for miles.

This was going to be difficult.

You looked down at your hands and fidgeted with them.

“There is… something I’m not telling you…” you start.

He puts his arms around your waist, gently guiding you to lay down on your side next to him.

“What is it, baby? What are you so afraid to tell me?”

He looked so concerned.

You break eye contact, which Peter usually sees as a bad sign. What’s different this time is that a smile slowly creeps onto your face. Now, he’s intrigued.

“What’s so funny?” he says, not being able to stop the smile from forming on his face too.

You smile harder. You already know that your face is bright red. You can’t help it. You’re reducing into jelly.

“What is going on?” Pete laughs, now staring to feel amused by this entire situation.

You open your mouth.

Then close it.

Then open it again.

“It’s not so much that I’m scared… It’s more like… I’m embarrassed.”

Okay, that was a good first step. You admitted to being embarrassed, but not by what.

Pete squints his eyes and looks at you suspiciously.

“Just tell me what it is,” he says.

Nope. Not gonna happen, asshole.

“I can’t,” you whisper.

His expression softens.

“Why not?”

There is a pause. You take a deep breath.

“I feel too embarrassed to say it out loud. Even if you weren’t here and I was completely alone, I still wouldn’t say it out loud. That’s how embarrassed I am,” you admit.

Peter nods, understanding the predicament you’re in.

“That’s okay, bug. We don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to.”

You feel bad. How do you tell someone something without saying it out loud?

Definitely not doing charades. Or Pictionary. Even if you knew sign language, you weren’t doing that either. There has to be some way to make it easier for both of you.

And then it hit you. You both knew that you couldn’t say it, but what if he could?

“What if… What if you try to guess what it is? I’ll give you hints and tell you if you’re right,” you suggested.

Pete thought about it, and nodded. The smile from earlier came back.

“Okay. Let’s do that then. What’s the first hint?”

You looked off to the side as you thought of a good hint. Something vague, but truthful.

“I’m thinking about something that you do…” Pause. “…that I like.” That seemed vague enough.

Peter raises his eyebrows.

“Something I do that you like?”

You nod.

“Is it… when I make corny science jokes?”

You shake your head.

“Huh, really thought that would be it,” he replies sarcastically.

“Is it… my dancing?” he asks.

“Nope. Not that either. You are a good dancer, though.”

He grins at that. He loved when you complimented him.

“Thanks. But if it’s not my jokes or my dancing, then what is it? Give me another hint.”

You try to think of something else.

“It’s something that most people don’t like.”

He squints.

“My… dancing…?”

You roll your eyes.

“No, Pete, it’s not your dancing. But while we’re on that subject, most people don’t like your corny jokes either.”

“Ouch.”

You both laugh. Pete thinks again for a moment. He’s drawing a blank.

“I’m gonna need another hint from you, missy.”

Time to think again. What else could you possibly say to him to make him understand?

Thinking…

…

There was only one more thing you could think to say. You shut your eyes so you didn’t have to see his reaction.

Here goes nothing…

“I only feel comfortable when you’re the one doing it… to me.”

Whoomp, there it is. Can’t take that shit back now.

You swear to God if he doesn’t figure it out now, you might just explode.

…

Silence.

…

More silence.

You opened one eye. You were greeted by a confused looking Pete, clearly still trying to put the puzzle pieces in the right places.

Time to explode.

“It’s something I do… that you like… that most people don’t like… and it’s something that you only let me do to you...” Pete looked like he was becoming more and more confused by the second. “What is something that I do to you… that most people don’t like?” he asked himself.

You watched in real time as the wheels turned. You saw the moment a lightbulb turned on. You started to brace yourself for what he was going to say.

“Oh, wait,”

I was wrong about earlier. NOW it’s time to explode.

A sly smile spread across his face.

Oh God. He knows.

“Are you thinking about-“

Don’t say it.

“-our little-”

Do NOT say it.

“-tickle fights?”

Fuck, he said it. He said the thing.

At this point, you couldn’t even answer him. Your entire face was burning. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. The only thing you could do was hide under the covers.

You hear Pete laughing. Now that he’s figured it out, you were gonna have to accept that you would never know a moment of peace for the rest of your life.

He lifted the blanket so he could see your face. Now you were hiding behind your hands.

“Why are you hiding from me?” he teased, knowing damn well why you were hiding from him.

“Stop teasing me!” you muffled.

He chuckled, “Why? Are you blushing?”

This boy just wouldn’t stop.

“How can I help teasing you when you act like this?” he purred.

He pulled the blanket over your heads so that both of you were under the covers.

“So, that’s what you were so afraid to tell me? You like it when I tickle you?”

You whimpered pathetically, doing your best to curl yourself into a ball. Pete enjoyed this.

“That’s what you were soooooo embarrassed to say this entire time?”

You did not appreciate that tone, which is exactly why he used it.

He placed his arms around your shoulders, cradling you. He rubbed your arm with his thumb, moving it back and forth. As much as he loved to fluster you, he also wanted you to feel comfortable telling him things like this.

“I don’t see what’s so embarrassing about that,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head.

You relaxed a little. As difficult as it was to have this conversation, you were grateful it happened. There were no more secrets between the two of you. You didn’t need to hide anymore.

You unraveled from the ball you were trying to turn into, snuggling closer to Peter.

You looked up at him. He looked down at you.

“There she is,” Pete said softly, admiring you.

You glared at him playfully before pushing your head into his chest.

“Aaaaaaand she’s hiding again,” he sighs. “When will you learn-” Pete takes hold of your wrist as he rolls on top of you, pinning it to the bed, “-that you can’t-” his other arm slithers around your waist, his hand now pinching at your side, “-hide from me?”

You did your best to try to wriggle out from underneath him, but you were trapped under his body weight. He was too strong. The only thing you could do was laugh.

“PEHEHETER, WAHAHAIT!” you screamed.

“Wait? Wait for what?” he continued to tickle you. “This is what you wanted, right?”

Yup.

“Oh wait, did you want me to tickle here?” he pinched a little higher towards your ribs. You screeched.

“Or maybe here?” he squeezed at your hip. “Or did you just want me to tickle all of these spots at the same time?” he moved his hand sporadically up and down your side.

It was unbearable. His fingers were so precise. Every move felt intentional. You were completely at his mercy, and it was everything you ever wanted.

Peter was having just as much fun. He loved the way you struggled beneath him. Your shrieking laughter was music to his ears. The way you insincerely begged him to stop only made him want to keep going.

The fact that you trusted him enough to let him do this to you made him feel so special. He spent so much of his time worrying about keeping you safe, constantly wondering if he was doing enough to protect you.

Knowing that you were okay with him putting you in such a vulnerable position made him feel like he had done something right. He was the only one who was allowed to touch you like this, and he did not take that for granted.

He stopped tickling you for a moment to pin your other wrist to the bed. He leaned down, acting like he wanted to whisper something to you.

“Hey, can I tell you a secret?” his breath hit your neck, giving you goosebumps.

This was his favorite way to tickle you. This was the way he discovered you were ticklish in the first place. The sensation was so intense that it made you fall into silent, wheezing laughter. That’s why he loved this method.

He knew that every time he said something, his breath sent you into hysterics.

“Please? I just need to tell you something real quick. It’s really important.”

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOUR SEHEHECREHET,” you shouted as soon as you were able to breathe in.

“No, no, no, no, you’re gonna like it, I promise!” he lied.

You heard him inhale and you knew what was coming next.

“NONONONONONO DON’T-“ he blew a fat raspberry.

You let out one last scream before falling back into silent laughter.

Pete finally decided that you’d had enough. He kissed the sensitive area on your neck, then continued to peck upwards until he reached your cheek as you let out the last of your exhausted giggles.

He let go of your wrists and lifted the blanket, rolling back onto his side and pulling you into his embrace. He let you take the time to catch your breath.

Once your breathing slowed to a normal pace, he spoke.

“I love you so much, you know that?”

Of course you knew that.

“I love you more,” you replied.

Pete kissed you on the lips, letting it linger for a moment. He massaged your scalp as he held you, wishing he could just stay here with you forever. Then, he decided to be cheeky again.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to do that,” he said, “Just pin your arms down and tickle you.”

It only occurred to you then that he never attempted to hold your arms down before tonight. He’d sat on top of you, held you close to him so you couldn’t get away, and he got to your weak spots before you could cover them, but he never pinned your arms down.

“Why didn’t you do it sooner?” you joked.

He smiled, “Because I didn’t know that you wanted me to. I didn’t know you liked it that much,” he answered, “Besides, it’s not like you were putting up that much of a fight anyway. I thought it’d be too mean.”

Peter was many things. A superhero, a little shit, an asshole. But he was also incredibly considerate. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve this boy, but you were so happy you had him.

“But now that I know you do like it that much,” he said, “maybe next time I’ll web you to the bed and tickle you until it dissolves.”

I quite like that idea.

“Oh really?” you challenged him playfully.

“Mhmm. Maybe I’ll make a special batch of web fluid just for you.”

“A special batch?”

“Yup. I’ll make it last twice as long.”

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

A/N: this is my first fic pls let me know if i did good or if i should never write anything ever again 👍

#marvel comics #spider-man #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tickle fic #ler!peter parker #lee!reader #peter parker tickle #tkl community #tickle fluff #fluff #peter parker fluff #spider man tickle #marvel fanfiction #marvel tickle #tickle community

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carrie-tate · 1 year ago

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No, I really fell in love with this brush

And yes, I rewatched "Into the Spider-Verse" and got into the “mentor and their unofficial child” dynamic of these two

#talk #art #atsv #itsv #peter b parker #miles morales #tickle art

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widowsistersandfriends · 1 year ago

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Sneak Peek

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

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

Word Count: 1644

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The dogs panted and started sniffing the boxes around you.

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

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

You decided to stay and blame it on the dogs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t check them!” You blurted out

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys are so rude,” you pouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?” She asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve? Wanna help?” Wanda asked.

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

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

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

Steve came over to you, giving you a smirk.

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

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

“Just get it over with,” you whined.

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

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

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

“STAHAHAHAP THAHAHAT TIHIHICKLES,” you shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am not a brat,” you insisted.

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

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

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

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tickly-tufts · 8 months ago

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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.

#also happy ATSVersary to those reading the day im posting!#tickling #a tickly fic #peter b parker #miguel o'hara #mary jane watson #atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #spiderparents #spideysjane

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tastybluesprite · 2 months ago

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Sparring

I really liked this idea but idk if someone did it already. If that’s the case it was totally on accident. Anyway that’s all I don’t believe I wrote for them yet sooo… here we are! Enjoy❤️

Warnings: None really except a ton of fluff, also that this is a tickle fic so if that’s not your thing feel free to keep scrolling

Summery: Tony spars with Peter, until he pulls a certain trick that leaves Peter rather helpless…

It was one of those days when Tony had set time aside for Peter to work on his hand to hand combat skills. Sure, the kid had super strength and agility, but Tony was adamant that being Spider Man wasn't just about relying on webs and sarcasm. So here they were, in the middle of a makeshift training area in the Stark Tower gym, dressed in casual workout clothes, ready for a sparring session.

“You know, Mr. Stark, we could’ve done this with, like, the suits on. That would’ve made it more authentic.”

Tony smirked, stretching his arms above his head. “Kid, if you can’t handle me without the suit, what makes you think you’d stand a chance against any big bad villain? No more stalling. Let’s go.”

Peter rolled his eyes but took a fighting stance. “Alright… but don’t get offended if I go easy on you…”

Tony snorted with a raised eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And whats that supposed to mean? Think I’m too old to keep up with a quirt like you?”

Peter’s eyes widened. “N-no… I.. just… meant.. um…”

Tony laughed. “Relax kid, I’m messing with you. Don’t underestimate me because you have superpowers and I’m just a simple man… who happens to be a genius… now come on let’s go…”

The sparring then began. Peter kept darting in and out of Tony’s reach, his spider sense giving him an advantage. Tony, though not enhanced, had many years of experience, as well as sharp reflexes. His movements were precise, calculated for an adult man.

They danced around the mat, Peter occasionally landing hits, while Tony worked on wearing him down.

Suddenly, Tony feigned a misstep, stumbling just enough to bait Peter in. The teenager lunged forward, and Tony took advantage of the moment, twisting around and pressing a specific spot on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter gasped, and his legs giving out beneath him as he crumpled to the floor, leaving him completely immobilized.

“What the—?!” Peter exclaimed, his eyes widening.

Tony crouched down next to him, looking amused. “Pressure point. An old trick. You’ll thank me when I teach it to you. For now, though…” He poked Peter’s arm, which remained limp and unresponsive. “You’re not going anywhere for a bit...”

Peter’s cheeks flushed. It couldn’t possibly get more humiliating than this… being immobile and helpless in front of his literal idol of all people!

“Mister Stark this is so unfair! I can’t move!”

“Exactly why it’s effective. Now, let’s see…” Tony tapped his chin thoughtfully, his gaze scanning Peter’s prone form. “What can I do with a completely helpless Spider-Kid?”

Peter’s eyes widened a bit. “Wh… what?.”

“Oh, Dont worry…” Tony assured him with a small grin. “You know I’d never seriously hurt you… but.. ” A mischievous grin spread across the billionaires face. He leaned down, and gently wiggled his fingers menacingly over Peter’s torso. “I enjoy messing with you…”

“No, no, no, no!” Peter protested, his voice rising in panic. He instinctively tried to squirm away, but he was completely immobile.

Tony’s fingers descended towards his sweater, dancing lightly over Peter’s ribs. The reaction was immediate. Peter let out a squeaky laugh, his Spidey sense going into overdrive despite the paralysis.

“Mihihister Stahahark! Nohohoho!” Peter burst out, his laughter high-pitched and uncontrollable.

Tony chuckled. “Oh, this is just gold. I didn’t realize you were this ticklish, kid. And here I thought spiders were supposed to be tough.”

Peters head shook a bit, with his neck being the only muscles on his body not paralyzed, his face turning a bit red. Tony’s fingers found a rhythm, alternating between light scribbles and firmer prods along Peter’s sides and ribs.

“Th-THIhIhIhIS IhiHiHiHiS SOHohOhoHo EHeHeeHeHEVIhIHihIL!!!” Peter managed out hysterically through uncontrollable laughter.

“You’re just the cutest giggly mess, aren’t you…” Tony teased, grinning. He was clearly enjoying himself. “Let’s see…” He shifted his attention to Peter’s stomach, his fingers spidering over the surface of his hoodie.

Peter’s laughter grew more frantic. “No! NooHoOHOhOHO!!! NOHoHoHoT THEhEHEREHeHE! PleHEheHAhAhase!” Peter squealed out in panic.

“Oh? Bad spot?” Tony teased. He pulled up Peter’s sweater slightly, exposing his belly.

“N-no! Wahahait! Dohohohont—” Peter

But it was too late. Tony’s fingers lightly scratched at Peter’s belly, and the reaction was immediate.

Peter squealed more and laughed hysterically. His head shaking. “MIHIhiHiSTEHeHer STAHaHaHaHRK!!! PLeHEHEHEHASe…”

Tony chuckled, gently scribbled all over his belly. Peter squealed and laughed, his head shaking more as it was the only thing he could move.

Tony then accidentally brushed over his belly button, making Peter shriek and laugh hysterically.

Peter’s laughter went silent for a moment before he let out a loud squeal. “STOP! STA-HAHAHARK!”

“Belly button, huh?” Tony said, grinning like Christmas had come early. “Quite the sensitive nerves here for such a small spot…” He dug his fingers in gently, circling the sensitive area and poking in directly at the center, gently wiggling his finger in.

Peter was utterly helpless, tears developing by his eyes as he laughed uncontrollably. “I CA-HAHAHANT TAKE IT!”

Tony finally took pity on him, pulling back and letting Peter catch his breath.

As the effects of the pressure point wore off, Peter sat up, glaring at Tony. “You… are… t-the wohohorst,” he panted, his hair disheveled and his face flushed.

Tony shrugged, completely unapologetic. “Maybe be a bit more aware I’m battle so this doesn’t happen, yeah?” He playfully poked Peters side, making him squeak.

“I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Not a chance, kid,” Tony said, patting him on the shoulder. “I think we can call this one another win for me. We can rematch again some other time.” He said, turning to leave the room.

Peter’s eyes widened “H-Hey! Dont just leave me like this!”

Tony chuckled as he walked away. “Don’t worry… it should ware off in a bit… although… maybe I should alert the others of your position…”

“N-no! Mister Stark don’t!” Peter panicked.

Tony just chuckled as he disappeared.

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inneedofsupervision · 6 months ago

Text

This Thing about Blankets and Second Chances

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

(Read on Ao3)

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

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

Tony's amused laugh echoes through the speaker.

Sam's following words sound almost pleading.

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

He needs Stark to listen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sam's eyelid twitches.

"What?"

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

"Thanks, Marcy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wipes a hand over his face.

He's too old for this.

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

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

Be a little understanding.

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

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

Tony sniffs slightly.

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

"Stark-"

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

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

"Tony-"

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

There is a twinkle in the man's eyes.

The screen goes dark.

Sam curses.

_________________________________

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

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

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose.

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

The archer draws an eyebrow up.

"What's wrong then?"

"He won't get out of bed."

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

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

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

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

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

A hand sneaks towards the pancakes.

"Exactly."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Let's try talking to him again."

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

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

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

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

"I kinda run out of it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

There's a short pause from both sides.

"Who took care of you then?"

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

"You have mentioned them, yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Will do. Love you."

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

"Yeah. See you soon, May."

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

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

"Come in."

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

"Friday, what time is it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A sound catches his attention.

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

A giggle.

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

Now it's official.

The kid's messing with them.

Bucky seems to think the same.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The nerves of that kid.

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

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

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

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

"What did you do then?"

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

"Yeah."

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

"I taught him a lesson."

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

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

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

"No!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's growing crazy.

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

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

Bucky's grin rivals a Cheshire cat.

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

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

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

"Stohop it! That's nohohot fuhunny!"

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

"Nohohoh, please dohohon't!"

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

"What the hell are you doing?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let me try."

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

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

"He's worse than Steve."

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

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

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

The cocoon stops wriggling for a moment.

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

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

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

Maybe he shouldn't have provoked Sam.

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

It tickles.

Oh god, how bad it tickles.

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

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

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

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

"Am nohohohoht lyhihihing!"

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

"What doho youhu knohohohow anywahahay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you laughing at me?"

Peter's eyes are twinkling with mischief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You told your aunt something different."

Sam almost felt evil.

Wide eyes stared at him with something akin to horror.

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

"We might have overheard some stuff."

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

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

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

Peter didn't see that one coming.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Only when I'm telling you?"

"Whehehehn you're bohoth are tehehelling me!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Ihihi wihill!"

"And now admit that you're ticklish."

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

They couldn't stop teasing the teen for it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sam and Bucky exchange glances.

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

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

"Okay, one more thing."

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

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

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

Peter raises an eyebrow at the question.

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

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

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

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

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

There it is again.

That dreaded shit-eating grin.

"Maybe."

Sam groans.

"Great."

Peter smiles before looking up at the man.

"Hey, Sam."

"What?"

"About the thing with the glasses-"

"Come here, you little shit!"

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