#peter tickle

[carrie-tate]

If you're still taking colored re-draws, perhaps the one with lee!Miles where Peter is picking him up in a hug? Always found that one adorable! Your art is so amazing and it's wonderful to see it revisited with your skills!

It's time to go back and do some coloring on an old sketch ✨

And as I understand it, we are talking about this sketch ùwú (I still like the pose in this drawing, I'm proud of myself ✨✨✨)

[petpetpinixy]

i have a ton of dialogue screenshots i've been meaning to draw i'll get to more tomorrow maybe

[faecaribou]

im pretty sure this is just a popular head canon that Charles cant really read Peter's mind because of his superspeed but I love thinking about it because like imagine:

You're Erik Lehnsherr and you literally wear a helmet to make sure Charles can't control you and it's like a big deal for you and then your son comes along and already has this ability built into his mutation. you mad bro. you jelly?

[romcomxb]

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

[a-lee-yah]

something something i would sell my soul for someone to lightly scribble their nails across the expanse of my tummy and coo at my every jolt and quiver

[vampslxsher]

Spiderbat gets a lil update and a name! Emrys :>

I don't really talk about him but he's trans, a historian who works in a museum. Who, during an insect exhibit explanation, gets bitten by a super spider that was engineered to have some bat traits.

And thus his transformation into being a vampire happens. It's not really a fun one lmao.

[imma-vincent-van-gogh-kms]

Have some tickle art that I drew but never dropped

[mushyblushyredhead]

HELP I was SO LEE yesterday and STILL AM TODAY AKFHWKDHFJ (*´ー｀*) so here take this I guess it probably looks like chiz but I needed to draw some flustering tk art (⁎⁍̴̆Ɛ⁍̴̆⁎) (also cuz I rewatched Spider-Man 2 for like the fleventeenth time last night)

Ok bye gonna go hide in my blanket cave now (〃ω〃)

[jettorii]

please dont flag me tumblr i am on my knees

[berrys-hide-out]

Run

A/N; YO! Another fun lil Drabble while I decide on how on earth the next tiny story will play out! I really wanted to do something with a pair I haven’t seen all that often yet and soooo bam Loki and Pete! ✨

Summary; Peter plays a prank on the god of mischief, Loki remembers a little quirk the young hero possesses thanks to an involuntary squeak. Not that either of them really minded

—————————————

“Run.”

Peter did not have to get told twice as he immediately stormed off with anticipating and panicked giggles. He wasn’t sure why he decided to play daredevil and prank the god of mischief himself— well actually it was because he was bored. Hella so, with the avengers on a mission and only left behind with Loki who seemed to be engrossed by his books… boredom was inevitable.

Now what did he do you might ask; simple! He filled a bowl with pink glitter and put it at the top of the door and ultimately forgot about it until an hour later when he walked by just as the god fell into his trap.

Did he regret doing this? No. Not at all in fact as he literally snorted at the sight and told FRIDAY to take a picture.

Was he regretting it now? Probably not but his thoughts were running miles as he quickly rushed into the lounge, then the kitchen and around the counter. What would the god do when he caught him?! The avengers weren’t home until midnight! Sure he wouldn’t hurt him but it is the god of mischief after all!

Loki’s grin made goosebumps spread all over his arms and neck and a giddy smile forced its way onto his features. “Y-you know pink fihits you well.” He tried- and failed to choke back the giggle, his hand coming up to cover his mouth half heartedly. It was a sight to behold— the god of mischief hair and outfit full of shiny pink glitter.

Loki shook his head and tutted “tsk, tsk, tsk, you need to learn one thing kid; you don’t play mischief on the god of mischief.”

Peter squeaked and moved around the isle as Loki moved. “Why don’t we drop this and ohorder pizza?” The god grinned “my are we nervous Petey?” The teen gave him a small tiny whine as a reply which ripped a deep chuckle from the god.

Just that made Pete suddenly bolt for the lounge again— only to collide with something strong… or someone as he was suddenly thrown over the gods shoulder and they turned around. The decoy vanished, only further proving that he was on the gods shoulder “WAIT- wait wait NOHonononono! Loki cohome on it was a harmless prank! It’ll wash out I Promihise! UhUHUsing magic is Unfahair!” Peter tried- and failed to flail enough to get out of the gods hold, resulting in him hitting the man’s back.

Loki huffed and adjusted the boy. Peter yelped and his hands shot down Lokis back to prevent himself from falling over, only hearing the god chuckle at his reaction. They continued down the hall…. At least until the god subtly dug a little deeper into Peter’s back thigh and he squeaked out a protest “NOHo! StoHop that!yoHOu’re tickling mEHe!” Peter yelped and kicked out, one hand shooting off of the gods back to try and grapple at Lokis hands.

Loki stopped “this just got a whole lot more amusing.” The playful and mischief in the gods voice made Peter sputter and his escape efforts suddenly spiked- legs kicked out, hands flailed and a long protest of giggly “NO!”’s followed as they made their way back to the lounge. The anticipation made his already heightened sensitivity so so much worse.

“Cohohome on! It was just a lihittle glitter! I’m sorry!” Loki chuckled and threw the boy onto the couch in the empty lounge which he bounced off once or twice and immediately tried to get away “don’t lie to the god of mischief boy, you’re not sorry in the slightest” he warned before his hands latched onto Peter’s sides. It was true— Peter wasn’t sorry the apology just flew out of his mouth.

The girly squeal that emitted from the boy only fed the gods growing soft spot for the boy.

Peter immediately squeezed his eyes shut, turned and started wiggling around, his hands flying down to Lokis to try and catch them without much luck. The god’s hands practically flew through the boys defences, even with the Peter-tingle which only made this so much more fun — I mean worse!

“This’ll teach you not to lie or use mischief against the god of it.” Loki chuckled as he watched Peter’s cheeks heat up “NEhEhehehe IHihe- I wa- ahaHAha WaHas BoHohored!” Peter whined through hysterical giggles.

Loki hummed “I don’t see what makes you think that that qualifies playing tricks on me” he said and slowly moved over the boys stomach enlightened to hear his giggles become bubbly and childlike “now this is just sweet~” the god cooed.

Peter’s struggling lessened a little and his blush deepened. “nOHohoHO ihIHIhihi— Ihits NOhOhohot! AHAHA- LOHOKI!” Peter suddenly screeched when one of Lokis hands caught one of the flailing ankles and trailed a few scribbling fingers up his sole.

Peters enhanced strength proved to be helpful enough to yank his foot back but the attack to his hips made him recoil and shake his head, hands finally latching onto the offending fingers that drilled into the hipbones on both sides simultaneously.

“NAHAA! THiHIHis iHIs UnFaHAH- uNFahAHAir!” Loki chuckled “actually this is plenty fair.. this however..” Peter gasped when one of his hands was suddenly held up above his head and the second hand hovered just above his outstretched ribs and armpit.

“This is unfair.” The god grinned darkly. Peter spluttered and the ongoing giggles stopped him from forming a coherent word— a sentence right now was impossible.

“Are you regretting having pulled a trick on the god of mischief?”

An out. If he really wanted to he could’ve had this dropped now but at this point Peter was having way too much fun with the god and shook his head with a wobbly grin and an overall giddy expression.

Loki shook his head at the playfulness the Midgardian child had. He also wasn’t quite sure where all of that energy came from but he was more than happy to let their little game continue for awhile. “Wrong answer~”

Peter squeaked and practically jumped when Lokis hand faked out.

The boy opened one eye then the other. Loki grinned down at him, emitting a low giggly whine from the teen. “See.. I’m starting to think you enjoy this” he said and traced along the boys ribs. Gently enough not to dig in but definitely rough enough to get a sweet reaction out of the kid.

Peter giggled hysterically and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to cover his burning face as he shook it ‘no’. Though at this point his face wasn’t the only part that shimmered in a light crimson. His ears and neck joined his blistering cheeks beautifully.

Loki grinned “if you close your eyes you won’t see the attack Petey” that got him back the boys attention. The anticipating gleam in the boys eyes, the disheveled hair, the bright red hue that covered him it was a sight practically to coo over but Loki needed to prove a point and so scribbled over the boys armpit. He needed a good reaction, as far as the avengers Mission-times go they were never exactly accurate— but ho boy did he get a reaction when his fingers hit the skin.

Peter snorted, threw his head back with loud and boisterous cackles while his legs kicked out. Loki’s fingers drove the poor kid up the wall, somehow he knew exactly what spot and technique would get the kid to wither under his touch

“NAHAHA! IHIHI’M SAHA- SHOHORRYHEHEE! LOHOHOHKIHEHE- HEEE!”

With a chortle Loki let up and instead moved to tracing the kids belly “so what are you sorry for?” “Fohor pranking thehe god of mischiehehef!”

Loki hummed and squeezed his thigh where it had more or less all begun “and?” “LYHYING!” Peter squeaked out. “Lying what Pete?” The god grinned cheekily. “Don’t liehe to the god of mischief!”

Loki hummed happily “glad you came around.” He said and Peter chuckled, curling up to face the couch cushions.

“Naw don’t go hiding on me now” Peter’s squeaky giggles escaped his mouth quicker then he could cover it when the god scribbled over his back. He didn’t even know his back was ticklish!

The boy quickly turned back around and was about to say something before-

“Pete has a ticklish back?!” Came from the doorway making both, spider-child and the God of Mischief look up in utter bewilderment.

In the doorway, Sam, Bucky and Tony.

They didn’t even hear them come in.

“I’m so using that next time.” Tony chuckled. Peter whined “mister staaahaaark!” Loki gave a low chuckle. “And someone’s gone soft” Tony continued making the god flush bright red “he just needed an attitude adjustment and I happened to find out a rather interesting fact about our spider” He said and eyed Peter who immediately started giggling his little heart out.

“You should probably wash out the glitter before it gets everywhere.” The captain said as they walked in.

Peter chuckled. “I got him good though” he said before noticing the warning and menacing grin that spread on Loki’s features.

The boy squeaked and rushed out, incoherent words spilling all over the place with giggles prepped in. Probably leaving a trail of “nohooo”‘s and “I’m sorry”’s

Loki chuckled and shook his head.

The boy really has a weird thing for getting in trouble.

“You too reindeer games” Tony called from the kitchen which earned an eye roll. But Loki didn’t protest any further. The glitter had to leave.

Once out of earshot Tony grinned “FRI!”

[carrie-tate]

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

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

Put a bullet in his brain and we'll take Maxwell off your plate.

[starkidsdaily]

Since I couldn't post for a few days here's a bunch of photos

[gigglz]

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.

[inneedofsupervision]

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!"

[gingerlee-holds]

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.