#ticklish!pete

[amazingmsme]

Wake Up (Proto)Call

AN: FINALLY, MY FIRST NPMD FIC!!! Been wanting to write this since I saw it, the brainrot is strong with this one. Just some Spankoffski bros fluff ft. Steph. This fic was an absolute blast to write! This trio literally own my heart now, wtf. Here’s day 29!

Ted walked down the hall toward's Peter's closed door, hands shoved deep in his pocket. He barely gave a knock before opening it.

"Hey Pete, got a min- oh. Well hello." Ted stood in the doorway awkwardly, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Stephanie Lauter looked about the same, sitting on the leaning against the headboard with a book in hand and Peter napping in her lap. A blush quickly spread across her cheeks as a teasing smirk tugged on his lips. She gave a shy wave.

"Um, hi."

Ted walked into the room, milling about as he inspected his brother's shelves of action figures, comics and other nerdy memorabilia. He held a hand out for her to shake.

"I'm Ted, Pete's older brother." She arched a brow, but didn't shake his hand. He held his hands up in surrender. "Too cool for a handshake, hey, I get it." This seemed to snap her out of it.

"No! It's not that, you just- caught me off guard is all."

Ted gave her a skeptical, albeit amused look. "Mmhmm." He turned his back to her and grabbed a stack of comics. "I owe him 20 bucks now, so thanks a lot." Steph scoffed.

"Excuse me?" she asked incredulously, setting her book aside.

"I thought he was full of shit when he said he was meeting the mayor's daughter at Pasquale's, so obviously I made a bet," he explained as he started to sift through the stack. It was Stephanie's turn to smirk.

"And obviously you lost."

Ted snorted, but didn't pay her much attention beyond that. Steph frowned. "You know he's really particular about his stuff, right?" Ted turned around on his heels, bending at the waist to get closer to her height.

"Seeing as I've known him since birth, uh, yeah I do, lil miss," he snarked. Steph glared at him and flipped him off.

"Don't fucking call me that. I'm sure Peter doesn't want you snooping around his room anyway," she sassed back, crossing her arms, careful not to jostle Peter as he slept.

Ted rolled his eyes, somehow putting his whole body into it. "Yeah I was hoping he'd be gone, but asleep is the next best thing," he said, turning back to face her. "If you must know, I'm just trying to keep track of everything he's got. All this junk looks the same to me, and I can't just ask what he doesn't have, 'cause then he'll know what I'm getting him-" he started rambling.

Steph's expression softened into a grin. "His birthday's still a month away."

"Yeah, and I'm running out of time," he mused, setting the comics back where he got them. He even made sure they were ordered correctly, Stephanie noticed. He glanced at her, looking as though he wanted to say something. Stephanie scoffed and looked him up and down. "What?"

"I really wanna do this thing, but if I do Pete's probably gonna be pissed," he said, mischievous eyes glued to his brother's sleeping form. Mischief came off of him in waves Steph hummed as she reached for her book again.

"Then you probably shouldn't do it."

Ted took one step closer to the door, but meandered his way back to the side of the bed.

"Oh but it's a tradition. You see, it was always my job to wake him up for school, dude sleeps like a fuckin' log-" he started. Steph frowned and shook her head, a hand carding through his long hair.

"Don't wake him up, he's tired. I told him he could nap."

"Yeah but he has a guest over, and that shit's just flat out rude in my opinion. Besides, I think you'd really like it," he said the last bit in a singsong tone. She rolled her eyes and returned to her book.

"I'm serious, don't bother him." Then quieter, she added, "He's cute while he sleeps." He made a gagging motion while she was distractedly looking down at Peter, stopping right before she looked back at him.

Ted turned around in "defeat" and headed to the door, muttering, "Even cuter when he's being tickled." Now that got her attention.

"What?"

Her tone was joyous and inquisitive and when Ted looked at her, she had an evil smile spreading across her face. That's more like it.

Ted sauntered back, sitting on the bed next to his brother. "Oh yeah, one thing you need to know about my lil bro is that he's like, crazy ticklish. Seriously, you're welcome, I just gave you the key to getting anything you want from him," he chuckled, only have joking.

Steph was looking at her boyfriend in a new light. "Thank you. That is... very intriguing information."

Ted made a show of cracking his knuckles as he spoke, "This is one of the only ways to actually get him up. Yeah an alarm will wake him up, but he won't actually get outta bed, ya know?" He was hunched over Peter's sleeping frame with hands hovering over his torso. He gave her a sly grin. "I don't get to do this as often as I used to, so I'll take any chance I can get."

Steph giggled and ducked her head, "I don't blame you."

Peter was laying on his side with his head resting on Steph's thighs, his knees tucked close to his chest. Ted started poking up and down his side, slow at first but gaining speed as he went. To Stephanie's delight, sleepy giggles slipped past his lips as he began to stir.

Sporadic poking turned to scribbling and the small huffs of laughter grew more consistent. His hands swatted blindly at offending ones, but lacked the strength or accuracy to protect himself.

"C'mon Pete, time to wake up," he cooed, one hand trailing up to scribble at his neck. A tiny squeal slipped out as Peter scrunched his neck, burying his face in the flannel tied around Steph's waist.

"Tehed leave mehehe alooone," he whined in his half asleep state. It took a second for his foggy brain to connect the dots, but once they did he was wide awake. He shot up so fast it startled both of them, Steph even letting out a startled squeak. "TED WHAT THE FUCK? GET OUTTA MY ROOM!" he yelled and pointed at the door, face quickly turning red.

Ted sat on the edge of the bed, completely frozen with his hands in the air as if he'd been caught by the police. He was fighting off his own laughter, mouth gaping open in shock at the outburst. Shock quickly gave way to amusement.

He wore a sly yet somehow sheepish grin as he looked at Stephanie. "I promise he usually isn't like this," he joked, shooting her a wink.

"GET OUT!" Peter repeated, using his long legs to his advantage, kicking his brother in the back to shove him off the bed. Ted stumbled to his feet, giving his brother a bewildered look. What the hell was his deal? Oh right, they weren't alone.

"Alright aright, I'm leaving," he admitted defeat. He only made it two steps before Stephanie spoke up.

"No you aren't." Peter stared at his girlfriend, a look of utter betrayal in his face. Ted's brows furrowed in confusion as he turned back around.

"I'm not?"

"Yeah, he's not?"

"Ted here was just about to give a detailed demonstration on all your tickle spots," she said, so matter of factly. Both Spankoffski brothers scoffed in shock before she continued, "Weren't you?" She looked at Ted expectantly, cocking her head to the side. There was something almost... challenging in her eyes. As if she dared him not to comply to her demands.

"I wasn't planning on it, but if you insist!" It took little to no convincing for Ted to take the golden opportunity presented here.

"No wait!" Peter protested, about to bolt off the bed when a hand around his wrist pulled him back. His nervous smile grew wider by the second. "Steph, let go."

"No," she said, an evil grin firmly in place. She snatched for his other wrist, and he moved it out of reach just in time. He held his arm out to the side as far as he could while Stephanie stretched across him, trying to grab him. She took the cheaters way out in the end and scribbled in his exposed armpit, causing him to slam his arm against his side for protection, a bark of laughter escaping past his lips. She easily caught his wrist and pulled both of his arms above his head.

"Thanks for being so cooperative babe," she said and Peter rolled his eyes.

"You're not welcome," he snarked.

"I'd be nicer if I were you. She doesn't look like she holds back," Ted chuckled as he sat on his ankles to keep him in place. Peter kicked and tugged on his legs, but they remained firmly trapped.

"C'mon guys, this isn't funny!"

"Really? Then why're you laughing?"

"But I'm not-" Peter was cut off with a shriek when Ted struck, squeezing his younger brother's boney knees. He yanked his arms down, catching Steph off guard with the level of strength he displayed. His hands immediately moved to cover his face and clamp over his mouth.

"Oh yeah, forgot to warn you, he's stronger than he looks," Ted added casually, as if he wasn't making Peter scream with laughter. "But knees: major weak spot." Steph nodded in understanding as she wrestled Peter's arms into her hold once more.

"Ohoho you're one toho tahahahalk!" he managed through his laughter.

"This isn't about me though, is it? Nooo, it's about you," he emphasized his point with a poke to his tummy, making him try to curl in on himself with a squeak. Ted continued, "Anyway, his belly's also pretty bad," he noted, forming a claw with his hand and hovered it in the air. Peter saw what he was doing and shook his head frantically.

"NO! Tehehed Ihihi'll kihihill you!" he threatened through giddy, nervous giggles. His older brother merely shrugged.

"I'd like to see you try," he said, not quite as condescending as usual.

Steph had had enough just watching and shifted his hands under her legs so she could join the fray. She looked at Ted expectantly.

"Where should I start?" she asked, smiling at the indignant cry Peter let out. Ted chuckled in amusement.

"Well he's ticklish just about anywhere, so knock yourself out," he encouraged, ignoring the indignant protest that mingled with Peter's laughter.

"Yeah, but what's a good spot?" she pressed further, seemingly unsatisfied with the vague answer.

"Well if you wanna hear the cutest giggles ever then go for his neck. Oh! And if you scratch at this one spot behind his ears he'll snort really loud, it's hilarious!"

"TEHEHED! Shut thehehe fuck uhup!" he shrieked, his cheeks taking on a dark pink hue from the flustering conversation taking place overhead.

"Wow, is that how you talk to your brother?" Steph asked in a taunting tone. Peter shook his head, babbling protests spilling from his mouth as she skittered her nails over his neck. Ted really wasn't kidding: this was probably the cutest sound she'd ever heard her boyfriend make. She was smiling down at him, her grin stretched from ear to ear as she scribbled her nails just behind his ears.

Peter snorted and tried hiding his face in the crook of his arm, but it still left half of it exposed for Steph's viewing pleasure.

“Oho my God, that’s so cute!” she exclaimed, leaning so far into his personal space they nearly touched noses. Ted fake gagged behind her back, for no one’s benefit but his own. “Do it again,” she ordered, using both hands to scratch at that spot.

A loud squeal was abruptly cut off by a giggly snort, and Peter turned a shade darker.

“Steheheph nohoho!” he whined, kicking his legs futilely where they remained pinned.

“Steph yes!” he cried, ducking down to blow a raspberry on his neck. Peter threw his head back, wild cackles filling the air. Ted leaned back, looking impressed and proud.

“Wow, and I didn’t even have to tell you about that!” he teased, reaching out to tweak Peter’s hips. He yelped, twisting side to side.

When Steph blew the third raspberry, Ted decided to show a little mercy. He grabbed a lock of Stephanie’s long hair, giving a few gentle tugs to get her attention, “Hey, we wanna keep him alive, yeah?” Steph looked over her shoulders, leveling him with a harsh glare as she yanked her hair back.

“You do?” Peter asked breathlessly from where he laid beneath his tormentors. They both chuckled and finally relented.

“Mhm,” Ted hummed cheerfully, standing up from the bed and dusting himself off.

“You got a funny way of showin’ it.”

“Hey, what’re brothers for?” he asked with a shrug. He held his hand out for a fist bump. Peter scoffed, looked at the hand, then at his brother. He sighed in defeat and gave him a fist bump. He turned back towards the door, ready to leave for real this time, when he was stopped once again by a familiar voice.

“I’ll get you back you know!”

Ted stopped in the doorway, one arm resting against the frame as he casually leaned on one foot. Peter was sitting up now, leveling him with a determined stare. It was a look Ted had seen before. He smirked; Peter rarely followed through on his threats.

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try,” he said, classic condescending snark returning to his tone. He turned back around, only taking one step before another voice spoke up.

“He’s a lot braver now, you know.”

Ted spun around on his heels, retort ready on the tip of his tongue when he saw his brother standing by his bed, a confident smirk on his face.

Ted’s own cocky smile faltered into something a bit more nervous. He took a step back, holding his hands out in front of him.

“Hang on now, Pete. W-wait!”

Peter cocked his head, like Ted had done so many times at him. Well shit.

“Why would I do that?”

Ted saw movement from the corner of his eye and noticed Steph also stand.

“Hey, I helped you!”

“Actually, I asked for a comprehensive list of his tickle spots, and IIII don’t knooow… that didn’t seem like a fully comprehensive list to me.”

That little bitch!

Ted scoffed, “Did you just use me to get your way?”

Steph wore a truly radiant smile. “Get used to it.”

Ted took another step back. “I had to leave you some surprises!” he defended himself, shrieking when Peter lunged at him. He just barely escaped when Peter caught him by the shirt, sprinting out of his grasp. His celebration was short lived when he was tackled to the ground.

“Oh Ted, I bet you thought this day would never come. But it’s about damn time you had a taste of your own medicine.”

He could never take what he dished out.

[secretly-tword-obsessed]

omg okay so when i saw that you write for big mouth and human resources i about lost my shit. so im a huge jatthew fan and id really like a lee jay drabble where matthew gives jay cheer up tkls bcuz he's sad about his family OR lee pete the logic rock headcanons.

ofc you can chose not to but yk💓 ill write them if you wont 😩

Hey! Sorry I'm so late to this - if you like it I'll keep making these in quicker time.

Again, so sorry it took so long, I have periods where I do and don't have time for this witting because of school, but I'm free for the next few weeks (yay!)

Sooo I think I'll do Pete HC's, especially because he interacts with Caleb so much in this new season, meaning I can weave him in there somewhere.

Pete is made of rock, so him being ticklish is like, impossible

(bows, leaves)

Hah! Oh so you thought! (re-enters)

So even though he's so rough and strong we all know that he's a softie. We also know that he's muscly, and that muscles make you more ticklish.

Rochelle found out that he was ticklish actually before they were dating by seeing him get tickled by Emmy before hours. Ofc when Pete saw Rochelle he was visibly embarassed and was pathetically trying to sound like a strong guy and said that he was faking laughing for Emmy's satisfaction to shut her up.

"Come on, surely there is an ounce of logic in your love bug brain. You know that I couldn't possibly be ticklish, I'm a rock and i can't even feel temperature. What was I supposed to do when Emmy started annoying me?"

Rochelle smirked - "well, ok, if that's the case than I still don't think Emmy is satisfied, so maybe you should 'fake' some more"

So yeah whenever someone asks if Pete's ticklish or doubts it when he says he isn't he always brings up logic to conclude that he couldn't possibly be ticklish

This also happened with Connie once because yk she's so randomly curious about the weirdest shit so she walks up to him one day and goes - "so, you know how your made of rock right? Does that mean you can't be ticklish?" And his heart STOPPED for a moment.

Also it has happened with Caleb ofc. Once Pete and Maury were in a meeting to create a list of notes on what touches would be acceptable for a potential partner, and they both wondered weather tickling would be ok so they asked Caleb in person. He said that it would be fine but first asked Pete if he would be ok with it. Ofc Pete pulled off his whole "i'm a rock so your question makes no sense" thing and ofc Caleb didn't fall for it and told him that, very many times, he had observed Pete getting itchy, which means that he was just as likely to be ticklish and even more so because he was sensitive. Maury smirked at Pete and Pete felt like throwing Caleb out the window (but never ACTUALLY considered it because he never would - he's a nonviolent rock).

Oh wait I haven't gotten to him ACTUALLY being tickled yet much so he is sometimes tickled by Emmy when she is pressuring him to say something (Emmy can always tell when there is something up).

ALSO I think Caleb tickled him once but on accident. Like he was poking and prodding Pete because he likes the texture of rocks and Pete just clenched his teeth and took it. Until he couldn't take it anymore and started giggling, squirming out of Caleb's grip with a "stawwp ittt" (fic idea?!)

Now, for the most important thing, spots...

Belly - 8/10. Lots of giggles

Neck - Not much

Sides - Bro will SCREAM, especially on the sides of his belly. 10/10

Underarms - pretty bad, some light chuckling. 4/10

That's all I can think of rn, thankyou for reading! Until next time gigglers (:

[tickletastic]

Belts Are For Safety

Fandom: Top Gun

Ship: N/A

Warnings: Implication of a panic attack

Summary: It's Bob and Phoenix's first flight back after their emergency landing, and Bob is more freaked out than he thought he'd be. Inspired by and dedicated to this Fighter Jet Anon! Day one of Miya and Mia's Tickletober: trap!

Bob heaves a long, deep breath when he and Phoenix finally land on the tarmac, the weight of the exercise melting off his shoulders. He closes his eyes, head pounding behind his eyelids, his heart beating in his ear. It’s their first flight back since the crash landing, and Bob is ashamed to say that, for a moment when he got into the air, all he could smell was smoke and all he could hear was Phoenix yelling his name like they were still there, looking up at the sky only half a mile from their burning plane. He’s not sure how Phoenix didn’t freak out, but then again she’s always been more well-adjusted than most of the crew. Maybe it’s because she was smart enough to start therapy before she enlisted, or maybe it’s something about toxic masculinity and being a military man. 

He doesn’t realized how long his eyes have been closed, how long he’s been listening to his heart beat out of control even though they’re on the ground. He feels like he had been in fight-or-flight the entire exercise, and his body oozes with the tension he had been building up. He hadn’t even realized Phoenix had been calling his name, her face contorting into the worried look she used to give Rooster all the time, the one she gives to Jake or Javy every once in a while. Approaching ten minutes on the tarmac and Bob’s eyes are still screwed shut, all the pilots having gone to change except Phoenix, Rooster, Hangman, who stood beneath the plane, and Maverick, who slowly climbed up to get to the much younger pilot. 

“Hey, Bob?” Maverick says, tentatively reaching out to touch Bob’s shoulder. Bob doesn’t respond until Maverick’s hand makes contact, his eyes shooting open. 

Bob’s eyes shoot around, catching Hangman, Phoenix, and Rooster underneath the plane, taking in that the rest of the pilots have gone. “Thank god,” he sighs, breathing out.

“Hey, kid,” Maverick says, grabbing Bob’s attention again, “what’s going on?” Bob scrambles for his buckles but Maverick’s hands come up to stop him, “hold your horses, let’s talk for a second.”

Bob looks at Maverick before looking down at the other pilots again.

 “It’s alright, Bob,” Phoenix says, “they came because they’re worried,” she pauses, looking at the ground before looking back up at her back-seater, “we’re worried.”

“I was just-” Bob awkwardly clears his throat, looking down at his hands in his lap, “I just got freaked out. I’ve never crash landed before, being up there just freaked me out.” 

Maverick put a soft hand on the side of Bob’s face, bringing his head up so they could make eye contact. “It’s alright, kid. It’s totally fine to be a little freaked out right now. My first crash-landing terrified me, and so did my most recent one, it’s fine to still be a little shaken up.”

Bob nods, though it’s evident to Mav and the other spectators that he’s not entirely convinced. “I promise you, Bob,” Maverick starts, “you’re alright. The crash wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t Phoenix’s either, neither of you could have predicted that.”

“Yeah, but, how are we supposed to predict it the next time?” Bob asks, glasses beginning to fog.

From below them Hangman lets out a loud, obnoxious laugh, doubling over before he can reel it in. All eyes are on him now, Phoenix and Rooster glaring daggers at him. “I’m sorry,” he clears his throat, straightening his face, “I’m sorry. Bird strikes are like, pretty rare, Bobby-boy, the chances of you and Phoenix encountering another one is like, zero.”

“He’s right,” Phoenix nods, “though he didn’t have to be such an asshole about it.”

Hangman sticks his tongue out at her and Phoenix fakes like she’s going to kick him in the balls. Rooster tries to separate them and ends up pulled into the bickering, suddenly being asked to pick between his boyfriend and his best friend.

Maverick brings Bob’s attention back to him, lowering his voice so the others can’t hear him over their bickering, “between you and I, after my first crash-landing I was scared of water for years. I didn’t get over it until recently, but I know I missed out on some pretty fun times because of it.”

“Really?” Bob asks, tilting his head to one side, “I- I mean, I’m sorry.”

“All good, kid, all good.” Maverick smiles, “but what I’m saying is you shouldn't let fear control you. I mean, I didn’t even get to teach Brad how to surf, those pictures would’ve been great blackmail for you kids.”

Bob giggles, peeking down at his friends as their argument seems to settle down. Maverick shifts, getting ready to climb down, “alright, kid. We’re gonna talk about this, but first I want to get you out of this plane, and maybe get that smile to stick around.” 

Before Maverick reaches the bottom of the ladder, Hangman shouts for Bob not to unbuckle, practically bouncing with impatience as Maverick makes his too slow descent. Hangman takes the ladder two steps at a time, hands grabbing at Bob’s where he had begun to unbuckle his thigh straps. 

“Nuh-uh,” Hangman teases, squeezing the other pilot’s thigh. Bob squeals, trying to jerk away but finding himself trapped. “I think we need to get you a little giggly before we head back. Whad’ya say, Bobb-boy?”

Bob shakes his head frantically, cheeks developing a pale pink tint. He puts his hand on top of Hangman’s and makes an attempt to pry it away from his thigh, only to be given another squeak-producing pinch. 

“Hmm,” Hangman says, stroking his chin, he looks down at Phoenix and Rooster, “he’s smiling, so that’s a yes, right?”

“I’d say he looks pretty giddy for it,” Rooster shouts, Phoenix hums in agreement. Watching as Bob turns redder and redder.

“Make sure to go for his tummy!” Phoenix supplies.

Hangman’s fingers dart down to Bob’s knees and splay over them, spidering around his kneecap and calves. 

“Jahahake! Thahahat tihihickles!” Bob screeches, kicking his legs straight as much as he can. Jake’s fingers just follow him however he squirms, pinching and spidering over his legs. 

“That’s great, it means this is working!” Hangman grins. Bob’s fingers scramble upward, hoping he can unbuckle his chest buckle and fold over to stop Jake from attacking his legs. Hangman’s fingers climb all the way up to Bob’s ribs, and it’s enough of a distraction for him to forget his task, throwing his head back and snorting through his laughter.

“STAHAHAP!” Bob giggles, shaking his head back and forth. All he can do is grab onto Jake’s hands and gently hold on, his restraints reminding him how safe he usually is in his plane, but also how trapped he is now that he’s at Jake’s mercy.

“Hmm… Are you ticklish here?” Hangman asks, leaning in and giving Bob a neck raspberry. Bob’s laughter rises in pitch and his shoulders scrunch in an attempt to block it out. Hangman moves his fingers down to Bob’s sides, “What about here?”

“Ihihit tihihickles! IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES!” Bob screeches, giggles freely flowing from him. “IHIHIT’S SOHOHO BAHAHAD!”

“Oh, really?” Hangman smirks, “do the seatbelts make it tickle more? You can’t even fight me off.”

“It’s not like he would,” Phoenix teases from below, “he always just lays back and takes it.”

Bob’s face is fully red now, all the way up to his ears, and his hands flop around as he tries to figure out whether he wants to cover his face or keep holding onto Jake’s hands. He’s giggling himself silly, and everytime he remembers that he’s practically strapped down it makes it so much worse.

As if reading Bob’s mind, Hangman starts to tease again, because of course he does, Bob just can’t win. “If the buckles are making this tickle more, just wait for this.”

When Hangman’s fingers dart down to Bob’s stomach, Bob absolutely screams, throwing his arms wherever in an attempt to dissipate the feeling. His laughter dips into silence, getting enough air every few seconds to hiccup amidst his laughter.

“Alright, alright,” Maverick calls up to Hangman, “he looks giggly enough to us from here, I think you might kill him.”

Hangman groans, pulling his hands away and ruffling Bob’s already too messy hair. “Alright, whatever you say, Pops.”

Hangman helps Bob unbuckle from the seat before scrambling down the ladder, making sure the other pilot is steady enough to come down after him. 

Hangman meets Phoenix and Rooster at the bottom, while Maverick holds back to talk to Bob. 

“Feeling better now, kid?” Maverick asks, slinging an arm around his shoulder. Bob nods, leaning into Mav. 

“Yeah, a lot better. Thanks, Mav.” Bob says, looking up at Mav, blush still fiery over his cheeks.

In front of them they can hear Phoenix, Hangman, and Rooster bickering back and forth, voices raised and accusatory. Bob catches a few words, grinning. 

“Just wait until we get you like that, Bagman,” Rooster says, “let’s see if you find it easy to take the tickling when you’re buckled up like that.”

The tips of Hangman’s ears flush, but he shakes his head anyways, all bravado and cockiness, “you’d have to catch me first, and with your old bones I don’t know if you could manage.”

Phoenix, in the middle of the two of them, pokes them both in the ribs, grinning at each of their high-pitched shrieks. “Enough boys, we’ll settle this another time.”

[august-anon]

frenchie vs the crew - 🙈

this was done in EARLY NOVEMBER and i forgot to ever post it dsjkhdf i am so sorry

Tickled Silly, Tickled Stupid

word count: 367 words

[ao3]

-----

Frenchie supposed he deserved this. He’d goaded the lot of them into it, after all, dropping conspiracy after conspiracy, dipping into ludicrous things he himself didn’t even believe, just to get a rise out of those on deck. He latched onto twitches of eyebrows, tightening of lips, eyerolls, and more.

And now this was where he lay.

Though it was quite a joy-filled grave that Frenchie had dug, if he did say so himself. After all, it was exactly what he was aiming for. Pinned down between crew member after crew member, their fingers searching out all his weak points. Mirthful tears were filling his eyes, laughter draining his lungs, and Frenchie was certain that he could get addicted to this feeling.

Wee John sat behind him and held up his arms with one hand, the big teddy bear, the other jumping mercilessly between his underarms in a way that made him howl. Lucius and Pete were tag-teaming the rest of his torso, seeking out the spots that made him jolt and squirm the most and laughing affectionately at his startled shouts. 

Fang and Oluwande had each taken a leg for their own, their drastically contrasting styles leaving him reeling. Fang, who most often tickled Lucius, went after the meatiest parts, squeezing and kneading deep into the muscles in ways that drove Frenchie mad. Oluwande on the other hand could be found with his fingers on Jim more often than not (well, not that any of them had actually found them like that, they didn’t have death wishes, but their cabin wasn’t exactly soundproof), and it reflected in his skittering, spidering, wiggly-fingers style that would’ve sent Frenchie into the highest of pitches if there weren’t so many other sensations warring for control of his vocal cords.

And Jim, ruthless, devious Jim, took up Frenchie’s feet. They sat on his ankles, trapped his toes in one hand, and absolutely destroyed him with the other. The playful torment shattered any coherent thought Frenchie had left between the rest of his comeuppance.

So yes, perhaps Frenchie deserved this, but he wasn’t exactly going to complain about being tickled stupid. The only unfortunate thing was that it eventually had to end.

[veryblushyswitch]

STOP THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE 💖💖💖

Any chance I could request something with the Goths? Maybe Lee!Pete or Firkle?

i cant believe that i never drew any of the goths until now :000

i hope you like this anon!! aaa ok i go to sleep now :3

[cosmal]

✿ — peter parker & pretending you’re seriously injured but it’s just a small paper cut that needs patching up with plasters all a ploy for him to stay longer or to get his attention if he’s been working or studying for too long. he finds out you’re okay so he patches you up with a spiderman themed plaster and lots of kisses. possible tickle fight ensues? thank you for considering <3

doctor pete

summary — you freak peter out to get his attention.

content — peter parker x fem!reader, mentions of injury

You haven't seen Peter in two whole hours. He's studying for a really, super duper, ridiculously important upcoming test - his words not yours - and you want to give him his space.

The problem is, you're a really impatient person. You have an idea, you might end up regretting it, but you miss his face.

"Peter!" you call from the kitchen. You sound horribly worried. Scared almost. "Fuck - Pete, baby!"

You hear his bedroom door slam open and then the thump thump thump of his socked feet running up the hall. He slides into the kitchen and almost falls into the fridge. He's still got his headphones on, the cord dangles at his knees.

"You okay?" he asks, voice all pitched up and frantic, "What happened?"

"I cut myself," you tell him with the tiniest pout on your lips. Dramatic.

You hold your hand out in front of you. There, when Peter squints his superhuman eyes, there's basically a papercut along the pad of your pointer.

Peter lets his shoulders fall, letting out the gasping breath he's just taken. He squeezes his eyes shut and bends in half. "Jesus Christ, baby," he pants.

"What?"

"I thought you'd cut a finger off," he tells you, walking towards you where you're leaning up against the sink. "My senses went crazy. I think my blood went cold."

"Oh, baby," you say sympathetically, reaching your hands up to hold his face, careful where you put your finger. He closes his eyes and leans into your hold. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd freak that much."

"Baby, you sounded horrible," he admits. You can feel his heartbeat where the heel of your hand rests over his neck. It's racing - skipping a few beats. "I don't ever want to hear you like that ever again."

"I'm sorry," you say again. You might be saying it all night.

"It's okay," he says and then kisses your palm. "Let me see, yeah?"

"See what?"

"The cut, lovely," he laughs.

"Oh," you blink, "right."

You let him hold your hand between your bodies, flipping your palm in his shaking hands to inspect the damage. "Oh, no, baby," he says, all faux worried. "That's horrible."

"Pete." He's teasing. You think you deserve it.

"Should I call 911?" he says, frowning, biting his lip to hold back a smile. He'll crack eventually, you know it.

"You reckon?"

"Amputation at best," he snorts. "Don't worry, Doctor Pete can fix you up."

"Thank god," you sigh, then, under your breath, you grumble a, "Doctor Pete." because he's unbelievable.

He moves across the kitchen to grab the first aid box in the cupboard above the fridge and pulls out a box of bandaids. He takes the wrapping off and walks back over, caging you in with his hips against the lip of the bench.

"Here," he says quietly. "This'll fix ya'."

He wraps the bandaid around your finger. It's blue, his vigilante face is plastered all over it. You snort. "My favourite ones."

"A doctor knows what's best," he tells you, smoothing plastic around your finger. He gives it a kiss to make sure.

"I look like such a nerd," you whine to peeve him off.

It works. He pretends to be offended but it doesn't really work. He's cracking the biggest smile because he can never help it around you. "The cutest nerd there is," he says.

His hands are suddenly crawling up your sides. He's not as soft as he usually is. His fingers are pinching, crueller than he is when he wants to hold you to his body. He starts to prod further and it's ticklish.

"Pete," you warn. Your body curves off the sink and he pushes his thumbs into your stomach now you're closer.

"What?" he asks. Smarmy.

He's not secretive about it now. He's tickling you. You try to bend in half, gasping through girlish laughter. He's stronger than you, obviously, and uses his elbows to keep you upright so he has better access to your sides and your back behind your armpits, right in between your ribs where he knows you hate it.

"Stop!" you gasp, "Pete, I'm sorry. Pl- please!"

"That's what you get." He's laughing too. It's horrible how you love the sound of it despite it being at your own expense.

"For what?"

"For scaring me," he tells you. He doubles down when it sounds like you can't breathe.

He lets his hands settle at your hips and you collapse against him, panting into his shirt. "You're horrible."

"It's your fault, babe," he laughs, holding you closer now he knows you can breathe properly.

It is your fault. You'd do it ten times over if it means he'll treat you like this, you think.

[forever-rogue]

Blonde!Peter request: it’s quarantine and he gets so ridiculously bored that he borderline forced you to help him bleach his hair, and when you realize “oh fuck, he’s actually really hot with blonde hair”, some steaminess occurs? However far it ends up going is up to you, but also Peter thinking it’s kinda funny and being like “I woulda done this years ago if I had known me being blonde would get you all flustered like this” because he’s a little shit

AN |  No, but blond!Peter does something for me. He’s so hot ❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Sexual References

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I am so bored,” Peter groaned loudly as he walked into the living room only to find you sprawled on the couch, watching yet another episode of another new show you were binging through. You caught his eye and nodded before moving so he could sit down next to you, “I think I might lose my mind.”

“Peter,” you rolled your eyes at your roommate, “you’re like a literal genius, surely you can think of something to do.”

“Wish that was true, buttercup,” he laid his head on the back of the couch, “there’s nothing to do - even for Spider-Man. It’s like even criminals decided to take a break and listen to the rules for once.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, slyly looking you over. His breath almost caught in his throat as he realized you were in nothing but short-shorts and one of his old shirts. He thought he’d lost that one…but it looked way better on you, “yeah.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as he watched whatever show you’d put on, attempting to keep up with the plotline but zoning out more than anything. His thoughts kept drifting back to you, despite his best efforts. He’d always had feelings for you, despite the fact that you were off limits - you were his roommate and his best friend. He wasn’t about to throw all that away by making a fool out of himself. But, ever since you’d both been stuck together in quarantine, his feelings and urges were growing stronger and stronger. 

It was starting to be a problem. There was only so many times he could jerk off to you in the shower before you caught on. Especially when it was always your name dripping from his lips like pure, sweet honey. He cleared his throat and focused his attention back on the screen. After a bit of half-assed watching, he came up with a brilliant idea.

“I’m going to bleach my hair.”

“Peter, no.”

“Peter, yes,” there was a wicked glint in his honeyed eyes that told you he was up to no good, “and you’re going to help.”

“Absolutely not,” you rolled your eyes, “you do not need to be blond, Peter Benjamin Parker.”

“There’s nothing else to do,” he groaned and poked your side, grinning when you squealed due to your ticklishness, “and we have the stuff from when you decided you need pink hair!”

“Hey, that was necessary,” you insisted, giving him a pout, “and don’t act like you didn’t like it, Pete. I know you did.”

“That’s,” you could see the flush of rose rise up in his cheeks, “that’s besides the point! Baby, just say you’ll help me.”

“Peter,” you raised an eyebrow, “don’t call me that.”

“Come on, please help,” you both knew that you could never say no to Peter Parker. You waved him off, “I’ll do whatever you want in return.”

“Fine,” you gave in with a huff and he pumped his fist in the air, “I’ll help you.”

“You’re the best,” he leaned over and pressed a big, sloppy kiss to your cheek, “I always knew I loved ya.”

You sat there in stunned silence as he jumped off the couch and practically ran to the bathroom. Your own face reddened as you watched him go, trying not to stare at his ass and how good it looked in those stupid grey sweatpants. Sometimes it was hard to be in love with your best friend and roommate. Especially when he was hot, smart, funny, and nice as Peter Parker.

You weren’t sure how you were going to survive quarantine without something happening between the two of you. Fuck.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Peter, I need you to stop squirming and stay still,” he was seated at the edge of the tub as you tried to brush through his thick locks of hair. You could tell the boy, with all his energy, was already getting impatient at having to sit still for so long, “it’s not my fault you have stupidly thick, gorgeous hair. You sure you wanna ruin it, bub?”

“You like my hair, huh?” you didn’t even have to look at his face to know that he was smirking, “it’s not gonna ruin it…right?”

“I mean it won’t ruin it,” you gently dragged the brush through the last of his hair, “but it’ll damage it and take a minute to get back to how soft and healthy it is. You are bleaching it after all.”

“Am I going to end up with straw hair?” he teased and you couldn’t help but snort at the comment.

“No,” you promised as you crouched down and brushed a few stray locks out of his face, “I’ll take good care of you, Pete.”

He raised an eyebrow at your little innuendo and your entire face flush with warmth, “you’ll take good care of me, huh?”

“Your hair,” you quickly corrected, “I’ll take good care of your hair.”

“You can do whatever you like to me,” Peter had never been one to be shy with his affection around you, but you’d never been ready to cross the line from best friends to lovers. But Peter, among other things, was a patient man - a horny but patient man, and he was willing to wait for you. 

“I’m gonna mix the bleach now so we can start,” you stood and pulled out of his grasp as you busied yourself on the counter with making the right mixture for his hair, “just sit for a few or run around and get your energy out now.”

“Well then,” he practically bounced up and ducked out of the bathroom, “I’ll be back in less than 10!”

“Peter-”

But he was already gone and down the hall, evidenced by the slam of his bedroom door. Odd. But you decided not to question him; you knew better than to question him. Maybe he was just gonna do some exercise in his room for a few moments. You shrugged to yourself as you grabbed the developer and packets of powdered bleach. 

Little did you know that Peter was in his room, pulling his hard cock out and jerking off before going back to you. He was surprised you hadn’t noticed his little problem when you were crouching right in front of him. But he needed to take care of it if he was going to survive you putting bleach all over his hair. Your gentle touch, your warm scent, your tits almost in his face, all of it made him harder than he cared to admit. His plan was to quickly get it out of his system and think some of the worst thoughts possible while you were all over him.

“Fuck,” he groaned quickly, hoping you didn’t hear the slick of his hand on his cock. It didn’t take long for him to almost spill in his hand. He pictured it was your smaller hand wrapped his cock, with your pretty, smart mouth opened to catch his cum on your tongue, “you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Fuck, baby.”

It wasn’t long before he spilled onto his hand, stuffing his fist into his mouth to keep from moaning too loudly. He didn’t need you to hear him whimper your name right before he came back for you to bleach his hair. 

He cleaned himself up and steadied his breathing, trying to compose him before going back out to you. Once he was sure that what he had done wasn’t too obvious, he went back into the bathroom and felt his heart rate pick up immediately. You’d changed into another pair of tight little shorts and an old, ratty t-shirt of his that you didn’t need to worry about getting bleach. You were too beautiful. 

“You ready, Pete?” you turned to him with a sweet smile, and damn. He felt his knees grow weak as he sat back down in his little designated space. He’d fought criminals, was a certified genius, but seeing you in those little shorts made him malfunction. 

“Y-yeah,” he managed to choke out as you pulled on a pair of plastic gloves.

“I’m gonna start with the length and then the roots come last, okay. They develop faster and if we do this first it won’t be even with the rest of your hair,” you explained as he nodded like he actually comprehended a word you were saying, “if it starts to burn or you feel uncomfortable let me know, yeah?”

“Okay,” he closed his eyes as you started to put the bleach in his hair. He figured that maybe if he didn’t watch you, he’d be able to keep himself from all of his fantasies of you. 

You worked slowly and methodically, singing softly under your breath as along to the music you’d started playing from the small bluetooth speaker. After a few songs he instantly realized that you were shuffling the playlist he’d made for you. Oh. He had it bad for you.

It seemed like an eternity until you were done, making a satisfied sound as you looked at his head full of bleach. You grabbed the plastic bag you’d brought in with you and wrapped it around his head, “gotta let it all meld together for a bit. It’s gonna feel hot, okay? But if it gets to be too much, let me know. I think leaving for about forty-five minutes should be fine, then you can wash it off. We’ll go from there…your hair isn’t too dark and virgin so it should take easily.”

“Thanks babe,” he relaxed and grinned when you didn’t correct him on the nickname, “I’m sure it’ll be great. I owe you.”

“What’re friends for?” you teased as you pulled off the gloves and started to clean up. You felt his eyes on you, knowing he was checking you out, but decided to ignore, “go and relax, Pete. I’ll be done here in a few. Put on a movie or something.”

He made a small sound before padding his way into the living, a flurry of emotions coursing through his veins. You were already the best parts of him, held the biggest place in his heart, but you were making this so difficult. He wanted nothing more than to just-

“Hey,” you walked back into the room and plopped down on the couch next to him, “what’re we watching?”

“I just ugh…the Office?” he asked lamely as your face lit up. Of course he’d pick your favorite show. You gave him a cheeky little wink before making yourself comfortable. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to focus on the screen. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The timer on your phone went off and startled both of you. Neither of you had been watching the show very closely, both hyper aware of each other’s presence, “alright Pete, time to go shower! So, wash the bleach out, shampoo, and then use my deep conditioner. That should take care of it nicely.”

“Alright,” he grinned, excited to see the results of your hard work, “I’ll be back eventually!”

“If I’m asleep by the time you get back,” you poked a finger at his chest, “don’t blame me. You’re the one that decided to do this late at night.”

“I would never,” he wrapped his long, slender fingers around your wrist before giving your hand a small squeeze, “well, I’ll be back as blond Peter soon!”

“Dork,” you laughed, a sound that went straight to his heart, as he ran into the bathroom. You yawned, rubbing at your tired eyes before deciding to lay on your bed as you waited for him. Unfortunately, you were fast asleep within minutes, unable to keep your eyes open any longer. 

“Babe,” he stepped into your doorway, his features softening when he spotted you all curled up and snoring lightly. He pulled back your blankets before picking you up effortlessly, without waking you, and tucking you under the covers. He smiled as you buried your head into the pillows, unable to stop himself from pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “good night, buttercup.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you woke up, you found the early morning light streaming in through the gap in your curtains. You yawned and stretched, enjoying the popping of your stiff joints as you realized that you were under the covers. Strange. You didn’t even remember falling asleep or tucking yourself in. After rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you slid out of bed and walked out of your room in search of coffee. Since you couldn’t go to your favorite cafe at the moment, you’d taken up learning to make all sorts of coffees at home. A pick me up was exactly what you needed right now. 

But as soon as you made it into the living you stopped dead in your tracks. There was Peter Fuckin’ Parker, sitting - manspreading - on the couch as he casually read a book, and sipped a cup of coffee. Not only that, but he had a head of bleached blond hair, which and you hated to admit this, made him look fine as hell. 

He must have heard the hitch of your breath along with the quickened beating of your heart because he looked up and gave that golden boy smile that made your knees almost buckle. How did he not only look amazing with his natural hair but so disgustingly hot with the head of blond hair. 

“Good morning,” he closed his book, which you quickly spied to be Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? as he gave you his full attention. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but your mouth ran dry, “you alright? Cat got your tongue?”

“Pete,” you blinked a few times and tore your gaze away before you got too lost in those glittering honey eyes, “the blond worked out. L-looks great.”

“Yeah?” he stood and walked over to you, running a hand through his newly bleached locks, “you think so?”

“Of course,” you swallowed thickly before moving past him to go into the kitchen. Maybe you could get out the feelings of frustration you were feeling on making a fancy iced coffee, “you always do.”

He followed you into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his strong arms crossed over his broad chest. You could feel him watching your every move intently, but you tried to ignore it as best as you could, “you know I woulda done this years ago if I had known me being blond would get you all flustered like this.”

“Peter,” you turned around and he was right there, his big brown eyes on yours, refusing to leave or back down, “I-I’m not flustered.”

“Why are you lying to me?” he whispered, reaching up and touching your face, bushing his knuckles over your cheek, “I can hear how fast your heart is beating…I can smell you.”

“Pete…” he set his hand flat on your chest, just above your heart as he felt it beat rapidly under his touch.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he backed you up until you were pressed against the counter and looking up at him with wide, doe eyes, “you don’t want to make a mistake. But baby, just give this a chance. You gotta know I’m in love with you, right? That I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. I know you’re scared, but give me a chance, sweetheart. You’re fucking breaking my heart, looking like you do everyday, smiling that pretty smile, using that smart mouth…”

“Peter,” you put your hand on top of his and gently pulled it away from your face, “I…I’m scared.”

“Of me?”

“No,” you shook your head, “scared that if we don’t work out…I’d lose you. I don’t think I could live without you, Peter.”

“That won’t happen,” he leaned in so his face was close to yours, his lips almost brushing against yours, “I promise. I’ve always been yours, baby, even if you didn’t want to see it. But if you don’t want this, really don’t want this, just say it and I’ll leave you alone.”

You could feel his warmth fanning over your lips, and you knew what he was saying was true. You closed your eyes for a moment before nodding ever so slightly, “I’m yours.”

That was all it took before he crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you sweetly and softly at first. When you were left dizzied and breathless, you pulled back and looked into his eyes, seeing that soft, dopey smile on his face. He put his hands on either side of your face before he pressed gentle kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and nose before stopping back at your lips, “say it again.”

“Peter-”

“Say it again.”

“I’m yours,” he didn’t hesitate for a moment before he effortlessly picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He was kissing you with a fervent hunger, years of pent up emotions being released all at once. He was carrying you to his room without removing his lips from yours. He tenderly laid you down on the bed, surprisingly gentle and reverent in his movements. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he held himself over you, strong arms caging you in and nudging his nose with yours, “I’m so in love with you.”

“Yeah?” your soft little question had his heart practically melting.

“Yeah,” he laughed softly, kissing you lazily.

“I’m in love with you,” you promised softly, “with brown or blond hair. But I gotta admit, Peter, you look so fucking sexy with the blond.”

“I knew you’d like it,” he grinned wolfishly, “my pretty girl.”

“I have one more question for you now…”

“Anything.”

“You gonna fuck me now?”

“With pleasure.”

[yujeong]

(Me, telling @wretchedamaranth about the mosquito bites I got from cleaning my balcony -> remembering how in Passing Time by @fleet-off Vegas got jealous of the fucking sun touching Pete's face -> "Hey, wouldn't it be funny if Vegas got jealous of mosquitoes leaving their mark on Pete's skin?")

"What the fuck are those?"

Pete snorts. "I got bored and drew red dots on my torso."

Pete expects Vegas to scoff, maybe throw an ironic remark back at him, but instead, he frowns. He touches Pete's sweaty skin, stretching it with his fingers. The area expands, bright red spreading, the mosquito bite almost but not quite disappearing for a brief moment, only to appear again when Vegas lets go.

Pete finds Vegas' jealousy nonsensical most days, but sometimes it's amusing. Like today; they're laying in bed, their bodies glued together. Staring at the ceiling, at each other, letting the heat linger, ignoring the discomfort.

It doesn't matter. Vegas has no reason to feel threatened by a mere insect using Pete's body for its needs.

Vegas clearly disagrees. He keeps playing with Pete's skin, poking at the bites with his nails, and Pete starts to get ticklish.

"If you keep touching them, they're going to get itchy."

Vegas stops. He looks at Pete, his expression unreadable. It doesn't help Pete get prepared for it; Vegas puts his lips around the red spot, and bites.

Pete yelps and then laughs as Vegas is sucking on the skin, his teeth gently digging into it. He licks it too, then moves to the next one. He keeps at it until he's gone through all of them.

"Mine," Pete hears him murmur under his breath, lost in his own thoughts as he's staring at his work. "Mine."

A different kind of heat spreads through Pete. It makes him realize, as Vegas finally looks at him with his hunger now evident and sharp, that he isn't thinking about mosquitoes anymore.

[veryblushyswitch]

I never knew I needed lee Pete till this fic- 💖💖AND STOP I LOVE THAT VIDEO AND ITS CANON TO ME NOW THAT IT’S PETE’S TICKLE SPOT! My gosh you nail the dialogue every single time I love this so much- 💖💖💖

Tickling Is NOT Goth!! (Lee Pete/Lers Micheal and Henrietta)

when I tell you my brain is ROTTING it is mush my god 

dude the goth kids are so underrated where is their love?? pete and micheal my boys <33 also micheal canon wasian representation please?? 

This fic was inspired by this video I’ve been watching it non-stop I love that little side and back spot he has: 

 https://www.tumblr.com/drgigglesmd2/710348157516660736?source=share 

love love love when people have unconventional tickle spots in random areas or when their tickle spots aren’t symmetrical to their bodies like only one side is ticklish or one knee is ticklish but not the other 

Also I’m sorry if anything is out of character we do not have nearly enough content of them in the show or the games I tried LMAO I just needed to get this idea out of my head 

WARNINGS: TEENAGERS SWEARING/SMOKING/PENTAGRAM DRAWING/RESTRAINT USAGE also long intro again IM SORRY 

THIS FIC IS PACKED SERIOUSLY IT’S LONG AS HELL

Henrietta is sick and tired of her brother tickling all his loud annoying ass friends when they come over to their house, so she declares that tickling is not goth and TOTALLY conformist. She conducts tickling tests on all the goth kids to make sure they’re not posers, and it’s finally Pete’s turn. 

I hope you like this! :) ALSO IN DOING RESEARCH FOR THIS I FOUND OUT HENRIETTA IS CANONICALLY TICKLISH!! 

                                     `“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“`` 

 “GOD, SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY! Ugh, I fucking HATE it here!” Henrietta Biggle stormed into her bedroom and slammed her door shut. She held both sides of her head as if her skull were about to split open. 

 “I can’t take living in this conformist Disney fantasy-land house anymore.” Henrietta reached for a cigarette and lit the end of it, the flame blooming in her hand. Micheal and Firkle sat in their usual spots in Henrietta’s dark and ambient bedroom. Micheal scratched his brow before lighting his own cigarette and handing his lighter to Firkle. 

 “What else is new? Your parents reminding you you’ll never be the preppy straight A cheerleader they always wanted?” Micheal suggested. Firkle sucked in his nicotine deeply before handing Micheal back his lighter. Henrietta sighed as she released the cigarette smoke in her chest. 

Keep reading

[mushyblushyredhead]

TickleTober 2023 🎃

Presented by @august-anon

DAY 2: Accidental (Marvel)

Lee!Peter 1

Lers!Peter 2 & 3

Summary: An innocent brotherly cuddle pile between the three Spider-bros suddenly turns ticklish when the older Peters make an interesting discovery about their youngest brother.

So cuddly…so warm.

A collection of content sighs filled the air of the oldest Peter’s apartment. The three Spider-Men were currently cuddled up next to each other in a makeshift blanket nest that the younger two begged Peter 2 to let them set up.

And so here they were: the oldest Peter in the middle of the cuddle pile with his two younger brothers snuggled up on either side of him. He had his arms wrapped around the youngsters, his fingers gently running through their fluffy hair.

“Mmm…this is nice,” the middle Peter said. The youngest hummed happily in agreement. “This is honestly like, free therapy right here.”

Peter 2 chuckled. “Aww. As long as it makes you guys happy. I’ll admit, this brotherly cuddle nest you guys set up really is nice. I think we were all due for a nice cuddle. Especially our newest little Spidey here.” He gave a squeeze to the youngest Peter.

“Heyyyy,” Peter 1 whined. “I’m not that little.”

“Are you kidding? You’re our adorable baby bro!” Peter 3 cooed, reaching over to ruffle the younger’s hair.

“Aaah! Heheyyy! Quit ihit!”

“Alright you two, relax,” Peter 2 said with a fond eye roll. “But he’s got a point, little Pete. You technically are the baby brother of our trio.” The youngest pouted with a huff. “Hey, don’t take it in a bad way. It just means you’ll get double the hugs and affections because you’re so cute!” Peter 2 booped the youngest’s nose.

Peter 1 rolled his eyes. “C’mon guys, you both treat me like I’m five. Have you forgotten that I’m frickin’ Spider-Man?”

“An adorable Spider-Man!” The middle brother chirped. He sat up from the cuddle pile to playfully squish the littlest Peter’s cheeks. “I don’t know how you could ever have any enemies, little bro. You’re too cute! How can your enemies not spare you or constantly stay mad at you if you’re this adorable?”

The teasing combined with the face squishes was making Peter 1 blush and let out involuntary giggles. “S-Stohohop, you weirdo!”

Peter 3 kept talking. “I mean look at him, Dos! If you were his enemy, would you wanna keep fighting this kid?”

The oldest couln’t help but laugh at the unfolding predicament. “No, definitely not. If anything, I think it would make me want to do this instead for all the times he’s foiled my plans!” He surprised the youngest Spidey by suddenly scooping him up in an upside down hug, making Peter 1 squeal as he now dangled upside down.

“Hehehey! Put me dowwwn!” Peter 1 couldn’t stop giggling. The silliness of being upside down made him feel like a little kid again.

The little wholesome moment was interrupted when Peter 2 gave a playful squeeze to the younger’s sides. The reaction was instantaneous; Peter 1 squeaked loudly and kicked out his legs, almost hitting his older brother in the face.

The room fell silent. Finally, Peter 3 broke the silence. “What was that? Did you just squeak, lil’ Pete?”

The youngest blushed. “Uhhm…n-no..?”

“Then what was that noise? Did that hurt when I touched you there?” The oldest Peter frowned with concern. “I’m sorry if I did.”

“N-No its not that..! It’s—I’m just—uhm…”

When the littlest brother didn’t respond, Peter 2 gave another experimental squeeze in the same spot and the same thing happened; Peter 1 jolted with another loud squeak. Crap-eating grins spread across the two older Spider brothers’ faces.

“Ohh I think I know what it is,” the oldest said in a sing-song voice.

“I think a certain little Spider-bro is ticklish~” Peter 3 sang.

Peter 1’s blush darkened. He rapidly shook his head, attempting to squirm out of the upside down hug with no luck. “N-No I’m not! Get a-away from me! Both of you!”

“Gosh, he’s squirming so much,” Peter 2 said with a huff.

“Why not put him down?” the middle Peter suggested.

“No! Nohoho c’mon guys!” In a matter of seconds, Peter 1 was dumped onto the pile of blankets and immediately pinned by his older brothers. His oldest brother had him trapped in his lap; wrists grabbed and pinned above his head. And his other older brother took a seat by his legs, resting his fingers on his kneecaps. “Guhuhuys! Guys pleaheeheehease! y-you don’t have to—EEEEHP!!”

Peter 1 squealed as his sides were tased. The culprit turned out to be his cheeky middle brother.

“And just how come you never told us about this, little Spidey?”

“Yeah, how come you didn’t tell us our little bro was ticklish?”

“I-I dihihidn’t know! And I’m not even tickliAAAAHA!” His lie was cut short when the fingers that tased his sides now vibrated and stayed glued in that spot. “NAAAHAhahaheeHEEE! Qhuihihit thaHAAhat!”

“Awww someone’s not a very good liar~” Peter 3 sing-songed. He moved his fingers upward, spidering them to Peter 1’s ribs next. He grinned when he saw how his little brother twitched with a girly squeal.

Feeling a bit left out of the playful banter, the oldest Spider-Man finally joined in. His free hand fluttered against Peter 1’s neck, resulting in another squeal and leg kick.

“Whoa! Easy there, little bro,” exclaimed Peter 3. “Don’t kick me.”

“I-I caHAHAhan’t hehehelp ihihit!” Peter 1 squeaked out. His blushy face was really starting to rival his Spidey suit. Out of all the embarrassing things his brothers could’ve discovered and exploited, it just had to be this one.

Things got worse when the middle Peter decided to scribble across his belly and the oldest fluttered his fingers under his arm.

“EEAAAHEHEEEHAHAAAA!! NAHAHAO N-Not thEHEHhere!!”

“Not where?” Both Peters innocently asked.

“T-Thehehehere!! Both…Both plahahahaces!!”

“Awww!!” Peter 3 couldn’t help but coo. “Ticklish tummy and armpits?” The littlest shook his head rapidly as more giggles poured out. “Awww! We got a ticklish tummy and armpits here! How cuuuute!”

“S-StAHAhap teasing, you jeheherk!” Peter 1 giggle-whined.

“Peter Dos, do you hear that sass?” The middle Spidey pretended to be offended.

“Yeah, I heard it. And I don’t think I like that tone you’re using, little bro.”

Both spider brothers cracked their knuckles for dramatic effect before plunging their fingers down and tickling anywhere they could reach: underarms, in between ribs, behind the knees, even Peter 3 got evil enough to slip his hands under his squealing bro’s shirt to scribble at his bare tummy.

It was maddening. It was torture. But it was…fun. Gosh, how long has it been since Peter 1 even laughed like this? A long time, in fact. Long before Mr. Stark left.

But here he was now, red faced and giggling brightly. Instinctively kicking and squirming, but not putting up too much of a fight to get away. Turns out, it’s not so bad letting his older spider counterparts know of his one little weakness. It was fun, and it made him feel genuinely happy to get to play around with the other Peters like this after everything.

So yeah. It’s not so bad letting his ticklishness be exposed and exploited. As long as they didn’t find out about his extra sensitive belly button or that one spot right under his arm and above his highest rib—oh nope. Too late.

There’s nothing Peter 1 can hide from his counterpart brothers, apparently. And that especially includes tickle spots. Ohh he was so getting them back for this!

THE END :3

[amazingmsme]

Per my last post, I have the perfect idea for day 29: wake up! with Peter, Stephanie & Ted & it’s been bouncing around in my head ever since I saw npmd & I NEED to share or else I’ll die (like the nerdy prude I am)

But Stephanie is hanging out with Peter in his room after he helped her study. She has to read for class & Peter ends up falling asleep. Ted gets home & doesn’t know he has a friend over, & certainly wasn’t expecting to see the mayor’s daughter cuddling his little brother.

Ted & Steph are just as shocked to see each other but Ted is immediately in evil big brother mode. Says how he can’t believe Pete would just fall asleep while he had a guest.

He goes on to explain how he’s a really heavy sleeper & it was always Ted’s job to wake him up for school. & he starts to tickle him awake right there in front of Stephanie. & she is absolutely THRILLED & Ted can literally see the excitement on her face.

Peter wakes up all giggly & confused & then when he sees his brother looming over him his stomach drops because he just knows what happened. & then Ted really pounces & encourages Steph to join in

[bow-of-aros]

Day Fifteen: Are You Ticklish?

Summary: It's Ted's birthday and nobody seems to give a damn as per usual. All he wants is to go home and forget that today ever happened.

Seems like his friends have other plans.

-

Hey folks! This is my very self-indulgent birthday fic bc it's my birthday and I can do whatever the hell I want!! It's my longest fic this month and I'm very proud of it, so enjoy <33

Also, to the person that put in the request for this day, I hope that you in particular enjoy the most!

-

Ted had never had the best experience with birthdays.

Growing up, nobody had really bothered to give half of a shit about him, and it hasn’t exactly changed much since then. Sure, Pete would text him and try to rope him into doing something if he was home, and at one point, there had been Jenny, but that hadn’t exactly worked out.

So when Ted walks into work and is greeted with the usual half-hearted enthusiasm—which is definitely an upgrade from the outright disdain from before The Incident—Ted just sighs and accepts that it’s gonna be another shitty birthday.

The Incident. Nobody’s really quite sure what happened. In fact, they all tried to not think about it as much as physically possible.

Ted’s just grateful that they all seemed to form some sort of trauma bond. Everyone was a bit more tolerant of his antics, sometimes they even smiled at his jokes and references instead of just shaking their heads and ignoring him.

Paul will actually invite him to Beanie’s every once in a while and listen while Ted brags about his genius little brother with something that almost looks like fondness on his face.

Bill doesn’t go see musicals anymore, but he’ll ask Ted if he wants to watch a new movie that’s come out without looking like he’d rather do anything else.

Charlotte got a divorce from Sam and asked Ted to have some space while she sorted out her life and, for once in his life, he respected her wishes and kept his distance. She looked more relaxed around the office and Ted felt like he’d found a real friend in her, like he could just talk to her with only a slight fear of judgment.

And he definitely hadn't set his sights on a beige-wearing, musical-hating coworker of his.

Definitely.

But all of this didn’t mean that they actually liked him. Ted wasn’t stupid enough to think that just because some horrible, incredibly traumatizing thing happened to all of them that they would suddenly start actually enjoying the company of their disgusting sleazeball coworker.

But still, Ted would take what he could get, and he’d actually started looking forward to coming to work, even if he threw up a little in his mouth at the thought.

He couldn’t help but be disappointed when he didn’t even get so much as a ‘Happy birthday’ though. Like, sure, they weren’t exactly best buds, but the bar really isn’t set that high!

As the day goes on, Ted notices that his frien—coworkers are avoiding him more often than was usual. It was almost like they were slipping back into their pre-Incident dynamic. Conversations would stop the second he stepped in the room, attempts at jokes fell flat and were only met with a roll of the eyes, and Ted found himself falling back into his old role in response.

He curled in on himself more before trying to project the false bravado that had once felt like a second skin to him. His any attention is good attention mindset was back in full swing, praying that something he did would get anyone to just talk to him!

Thankfully, that only lasted for a little while before he realized that he didn’t want to be that Ted anymore, and wasn’t that a revelation to examine literally never.

By the end of the day, Ted was exhausted. Mr. Davidson had asked him to stay a few minutes late to help him with some last-minute filing, which could not have been that important but hey, he had nothing better to be doing.

He’d spent a solid few hours picking through his memory to try and figure out if he’d done anything extra repulsive within the past few days and came up empty-handed.

Paul had even gone home early, also known as not thirty minutes late, which he never did and Ted was worried enough—and desperate enough— that he’d sent a u gud? To which he’d received a perfectly punctuated Yeah. Thanks, Ted.

Was it sad that those three words had made him feel better than anything else that day? Definitely.

Was Ted going to take anything he could get? Abso-fucking-lutely.

As he pulled into his driveway, all he could think about was ordering some shitty takeout, drinking some shitty beer, and pretending that he didn’t exist until this shitty day was over. Hopefully, everything would go back to normal tomorrow, and Ted could just chalk today up to his birthday curse.

The key slipped into the door and it turned after the required two seconds of trying to jimmy it open.

As his hand fumbled for the light he called out, “Hey Pete! I’m home! Fair warning to finish anything up before I—OH HOLY FUCK!”

The light flipped on, revealing a very brightly decorated living room and Paul, Bill, and Charlotte gleefully yelling, “SURPRISE!”

Silence rang for a moment.

Two.

“Ted? Are you… Crying?”

At Charlotte’s question Ted whipped around and very unsubtly scrubbed at his eyes as he said, “No! It’s hay fever season! I just have, uh,” He sniffled, damn it, “I just have really bad allergies.”

He turned back just in time to catch an armful of knitted sweater and curly hair.

“I’m sorry!” She said, somehow managing to be the one holding him despite the fact that he had a foot on her at least, “I told them that a surprise party was a bad idea! But they were so set on it and I’m so bad at keeping secrets! And oh my God we were so mean to you today!”

Charlotte pulled away to look him in the eye, “Can you forgive us? Please?”

Honestly, Ted had forgiven them the second he learned that they all hadn’t gone back to not-so-secretly hating them.

And he’d never really been able to say no to Charlotte.

“Alright. I guess I can forgive you.”

She let out an ear-piercing shriek before throwing herself back at him and Ted found himself sinking into the affection.

A warm body encompassed him from behind as Bill joined the hug and, fuck, Ted couldn’t burst into tears again and ruin the image he’d been carefully cultivating for the past however many years.

“Yeah, man. We were kinda shitty today. Sure it was all to keep the party hidden but that’s not an excuse. Are you alright?”

They are not making this easy on him.

“Yeah!” Oh, that was way too high-pitched. Let’s try that one again.

“Yeah.” Much better, “I definitely wasn’t worried that I’d done something wrong and you guys all hated me again and I’d fucked up the only actual friendships I’ve had since I was a kid or anything.”

…Yikes. Great save, Spankoffski.

Ted felt an arm wind its way around his waist, giving him an awkward side hug and holy shit. Paul, Mr. If-you-come-within-two-feet-of-me-I-will-dissolve-out-of-pure-social-discomfort, was hugging Ted.

“Look, Ted,” said Paul in the voice of someone not well-versed in the art of reassurance which, hey, neither is Ted, “Sure, you used to be a disgusting sleazeball that we all tried to avoid.”

“But,” He raised his voice to be heard over Charlotte and Bill’s groaning, “You’ve changed. And we can see that you’ve put actual effort into changing. We honest to God like you Ted, you’re our friend! Hell, would we have done all this for you if you weren’t?”

Paul gestured at the room and Ted looked at the balloons scattered around, at the cake on the table and the three wrapped presents sitting on the couch.

Huh.

“No,” Ted said slowly, still trying to wrap his head around the concept, “You definitely wouldn’t.”

“Exactly! Now, why don’t you say we— What was that?”

The squeeze Paul had given to his side that Ted was sure was supposed to be reassuring had the unfortunate side effect of making Ted nearly jump out of his own damn skin. Of course, it was just his luck that the Spankoffski charm had come with a large dose of the Spankoffski super-fucking-ticklish.

“Nothing!”

He could feel Charlotte grinning against his chest as Bill tightened his hold, effectively eliminating all possible escape routes.

“That didn’t sound like nothing,” Charlotte said, mischief colouring her voice, “You should try that again, Paul! See if we can give Ted some good old-fashioned birthday cheer!”

At that, Ted actually started to put up a fight, if pretty half-assed.

“No! I’m already cheerful so that’s not necessARY— Pahahahaul nononono shihihihit!”

Laughter tumbled from his lips, echoed by the people surrounding him as he tried and failed to escape.

Paul’s voice rose above the noise in utter disbelief, “Are you telling me that you, the guy who can’t get enough of bugging everyone else, are ticklish?! We could have been using this against you for years!”

“No I’m nohohohot!”

Ted was going to go crazy. Paul’s hand had moved up to his ribs and was now prodding at the bones and wiggling between them, making Ted’s laughter pitch up into childlike giggles much to the delight of his tormentors.

“Are you suuurrrreee?” Charlotte asked, giving a quick scribble to his spine and laughing ecstatically at the snort that elicited.

“Yeah, Ted!” Bill chimed in, “You seem pretty ticklish to me! But, if you’re not, then you won’t mind if we stay here a little longer. It is your birthday, after all, gotta make sure that you feel loved and appreciated!”

Paul leaned in close enough that Ted was grateful that the red in his cheeks could be explained away as he said, “All you have to do to make this stop is just admit that you’re ticklish. Is that really so hard?”

He lightened his touch enough to let Ted catch his breath a bit and give him a chance to tap out if he wanted to.

But Ted Spankoffski is a man of honour and dignity and he WILL NOT GIVE IN!

“Go fuhuhuck yourself, Paul!”

Any fire in his words was snuffed out by the lingering giggles, but Paul still gasped, playfully affronted in a way that Ted’s never seen, but knows can’t be good.

“Well,” Paul says simply, “You asked for it.”

And Ted was thrown back into laughter as Paul’s hands dug back into his ribs, aided by the occasional pokes and scribbles from Bill and Charlotte who seemed mostly content to hold him in place and let Paul do all the work.

“PAUL!” Paul had vibrated his hand into the soft space just below Ted’s lowest ribs and, yeah, this is how he was going to die, “Paulpaulpaul plehehehease! I’ll sahahay it! I cahahahan’t!”

“You can’t say it?” Oh that little shit, “I’m sure I can help you out there.”

“No! I’m ticklish! I’m tihihihihicklish! Now please let me gohohohoho!”

With that proclamation of defeat, they all unwound themselves from around Ted, and he did his best to not miss the warm pressure as they guided him to his ratty old couch, unstable legs nearly giving out on him before he collapsed on the worn cushions.

As he sat there catching his breath while Paul settled down next to him and Bill and Charlotte started fiddling with the candles on his cake, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

“How the fuck did you guys get into my apartment?”

They all laughed as Paul said, “Peter gave me his key. Told us to not fuck this up.” His voice slid into something a little more fond, “You’ve got a good kid on your hands, Ted.”

“Yeah,” Ted said, the grin on his face more than just the remnants of his ordeal, “I really do.”

Suddenly, Bill and Charlotte were bringing the cake towards him in all its fiery glory.

“Alright sleazeball, make a wish.”

Normally, Ted would hate being called that by someone other than himself, but Charlotte said it with such fondness that he really couldn’t bring himself to mind.

He thinks for a moment, then takes in a big breath and blows out all the candles in one fell swoop.

After the cheering died down, Bill asked, “What did you wish for?”

Ted just gave him his signature grin and said, “I can’t tell you, Billy. It wouldn’t come true!”

The rest of the day flew by, filled with laughter and games and only a few drinks. Looks like the birthday curse is broken, because this one had been pretty damn perfect.

I wish that all of my birthdays could be the same as this one, minus the first half, surrounded by my friends who just want to see me smile.

[redhalmao]

Headcanon: Tim checks Bernard's pulse, a lot.

Bernard knows that he was not supposed to notice, but he can't help himself.

Tim checks his pulse. Like a worrying number of times.

Although the action in itself, Bernard shouldn't find it too alarming. It's Gotham for pete's sake, Bernard will proudly bark out laugh at you if you call yourself a Gotham native and NOT know how to CPR/check someone's pulse. It's just that Bernard feel like it's another small detail that cements the fact Tim is Red Robin. Tim's life was supposed to be a sunshine n' rainbows, dazzling, glamorous and fairly safe world of the rich or famous, but no one from that world should check a person's pulse with that much confidence and effectiveness. Tim checks Bernard's pulse like every fiber of his being was trained to.

Oh another thing that bothers Bernard is that Tim m typically checks Bernard's pulse when it's a quiet moment.

And those moments become the loudest that Bernard felt.

***

At the time, Bernard is too tired to move his study session back to his room. Add in the the combination of Tim's harsh lamp light glaring at him for the past 4 hours and lack of Monster drinks, his eyes deserves a much needed break. So, Bernard is just happy to accept his fate of laying down on Tim's very inviting soft couch.

Bernard soon loses himself to the fuzzy feeling of the boathouse that slightly rocks his body. His legs readjusts to the boats motion and Bernard hugs himself together to roll with the movement better. Bernard hummed at the moment he realizes that a storm must be coming and must be the one causing rocking.

Huh, Tim should really put some more rocker stoppers. Bernard curled farther into the couch at that thought.

Within a half of hour later, Bernard sleepily heard some commotion outside. Throughout the next hour, the boat slowly stopped rocking. Bernard curled towards the couch and it's pillows, silently mourning the lack of soothing rocking.

A window opens.

Rain comes in.

A couple of steps towards Bernard's self claimed study mess area.

A click of the lamp's switch being turned off.

A lot more steps.

A series of clicks and zips echos throughout the small boat.

A shower turns on.

After a good while, the shower turns off.

A wet towel has been dropped, rustle of clothing.

Steps going towards to the couch, to himself, Bernard.

Bernard is not delusional, he knew that there was a good chance that Tim would still be on that week long "business trip" a little bit longer than he did he would. That Bernard would have a lot better chance of seeing Tim in their favorite breakfast restaurant tomorrow than Tim surprising Bernard by crashing into study session in own boathouse at this afternoon.

But the buzzing feeling of Tim of brushing the back of his hair was so addictive that he couldn't help but thank his lucky stars that he was a bit impatient today.

As Tim sinks into the couch and curls into Bernard, the his brushing of Bernard's hair turns into his hand skimming to Bernard's neck.

Bernard had to stop himself to chuckling from the ticklish feeling, but he did let himself reply with a hum. Bernard reached and stuck the Tim's wandering hand on his neck and turned around.

"Hey"

"Hey, yourself."

And that's when Bernard felt it. Bernard knows that Tim's other hand was supposed to be comforting and distracting Bernard by brushing his hair, but the brush of his neck turned to a soft press. The distraction would have worked it if it weren't for the vulnerability of Tim's eyes, he would have missed it. The look in Tim's eyes, makes Bernard wrap his arms and legs around him.

"Are you okay?"

Bernard wants to laugh, of course Tim asks him as of he doesn't have the eyes of a veteran soldier that just relived through their personal hell.

"Yeah, are you okay?"

"Hmm, just stressing about the company."

Tim pulls away, as he does, his hand travels away from Bernard's neck and on to his face. He rubs little circles on Bernard's face. Tim smiles.

Bernard wants to cry.

[tkfanz428]

I’ll annoy you one more time. I must ask for myself getting tickled by Pete. And I have hips too ticklish for my own good😔-

Here it is @estherbean

[star-stuckwithgay]

Ticklish?

!UPDATED¡

This is my first fic so please dont judge.

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

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

“Hey Mr. Stark!“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter,are you tihicklish?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Saham! Hey Samhm!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

FINALLY FUCKING DONE! AFTER MONTHS.

[veryblushyswitch]

Bro Pete is absolutely merciless and I love it 💖 I love how he’s like a trance almost because they never indulge in that kind of affection, and to hear Micheal genuinely laughing is so out of the ordinary yet adorable to him. 💖

Hope it's okay to send this when your requests are closed, I just read your tickling isn't goth fic and my God that was so cute 🥺 is there any chance we could get a fic of Michael messing around with Pete only for Pete to remember Michael admitted he's ticklish so he retaliates?

Yes absolutely! So um I know what I said but

lol I had an idea I'M THE WORST

I've actually had this idea before but I wanted to wait until I could articulate it properly if that makes sense

I hope you enjoy :0

WARNINGS: cursing! mentions of satan and other imagery. also a lot of band references so if it's confusing I'm sorry lol

I'm More Goth Than YOU! (Lee Micheal/ Ler Pete)

This takes place during the 'Basic Cable' episode (Season 23 Episode 9). After finding out that Micheal has already talked to the new girl Sophie, Pete finds himself wanting to discuss a few things with his friend...

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

"-So we just sat around and listened to Bauhaus when System of a Down came on after that. I was like, what the fuck am I listening to, you know. And they skipped the song like when it came on and it switched to another goth band but that's when I knew they were just another poser." Micheal rambled Pete's ear off while they were watching a scary movie together.

Pete was at Micheal's house as it was the start of the weekend and October, so naturally they had to kick it off right. However, watching scary movies was a year-round activity, so tonight was a bit basic by their standards. The movie of choice was Hereditary, but they've seen it so many times that they could talk and watch at the same time and not miss any beats.

Pete was zoning out if he were being honest. He had his mind set on a girl he had talked to earlier that day. Sophie Gray. She was really pretty and she seemed really cool, not unlike anyone else that went to their school. Even though she was new and Pete didn't really know her yet, he could tell that she was different. Pete laid his cheek on his fist while he thoughtlessly said the first thing that came to mind.

"I don't mind System of a Down if I'm in the right mood," Pete said honestly. Micheal turned to Pete with a look of disgust. Pete was laying on his side on the couch with his left leg bent at the knee and his right leg laid over Micheal's thigh. Micheal pushed Pete's leg off of him and crossed his arms with a sneer on his face.

"God, that's how I know you're a fucking poser," Micheal growled. That got Pete's attention. Pete looked up from the television and set his jaw in anger.

"What did you say?" Pete asked, testing Micheal. There was no way his friend would utter something like that again to his face.

"I'm just saying that no real child of darkness would be listening to something so mainstream. I've heard cheerleaders listen to Chop Suey before." Micheal said with venom in his tone.

"Oh yeah? Then how do you know a single song from the band anyway? You're a hypocrite, Micheal. Op- foreshadowing." Pete pointed to the TV where a hidden Easter egg was shown in the movie.

"Nice catch." Micheal relaxed after that. Micheal allowed Pete to put his leg back up to rest on his thigh so it wasn't hanging off the couch. It seemed like Micheal didn't want to be caught being a poser or a conformist in any way, shape, or form. Pete wondered why that was.

"So uh... that new girl at school. Sophie Gray? Talk to her yet?" Pete tested the waters with Micheal. Sophie had revealed that Micheal had already spoken to her before Pete had, and Gods knows what Micheal was saying about the people at the school. To save his own skin, Pete threw Micheal under the bus and called him a total poser. Because let's face it, no one was more goth than Pete was.

Micheal perked up at her name. "Yeah, she's pretty cool. I offered to show her around campus sometime and she started talking about Skinny Puppy. Can you believe it? She's not a conformist dickhole like every other new kid in South Park." Micheal carded his fingers through his curly hair while Pete stared back at the TV.

"Well, too bad she already accepted my invitation to show her around the school. She even said she wanted to talk later. Guess she's only into real goths." Pete was poking the bear on that one. Micheal turned to Pete with a look of thinly veiled shock.

"What? You talked to her? No way." He asked. Pete shrugged nonchalantly with a small smirk on his face.

"Yeah. She said she's not into posers. Her words." Micheal furrowed his brows at Pete's words.

"Well, I'm not a poser!" Micheal said defensively. Pete's smile only grew as he looked over his shoulder to meet Micheal's eyes.

"Then why would she say something like that? She said she doesn't like guys who try too hard." Pete's smile could be heard in his voice. Michael gave Pete an incredulous look and grabbed onto Pete's calve resting on his thigh.

"Did she actually say that Pete?" Micheal asked. Pete threw up his shoulders and turned his attention back to the TV.

"Are... Are you lying? Pete. Answer me." Pete kept a smug little grin on his face when he felt a hand squeezing the in-between spot of his knee and his thigh. Pete let out a shocked cry as he shook off the hand.

"Ah-hah! What are you doing creeper?!" Pete yelled, fighting to take his leg back. Micheal held onto his leg in a tight grip as he defended himself.

"I want you to answer me about Sophie Gray, dork! I'm not doing this 'cause I like it! Are you lying about what you said?" Micheal pressed.

Now one thing about Pete: He was a TERRIBLE liar. He could make stuff up on the spot about a story that was already established, but coming up with stuff out of thin air under pressure? He began to stutter and jerk his leg in Micheal's grip.

"I- I don't know! It's just what she said! Why do you-" Pete and Micheal both looked at the TV at the same time. The main character had passed by another Easter egg.

"Foreshadowing." They said at the same time.

They turned back to look at each other one more time before Micheal squished the inner part of Pete's knee, creeping into his inner thigh. Pete gave an inward squeak as he began giggling and kicking his leg.

"M-Mihihicheal! Stohohop! You're a weheheirdo!" Pete struggled and snickered while squirming all over Micheal's couch. Micheal hadn't heard Pete's ticklish laugh, or any laugh for that matter, since the tickling ritual at Henrietta's place a few months back. They don't really talk about that day, and for good reason.

"What, are you gonna call me a creep next? You're so mainstream it hurts, Pete. I don't know why Sophie would choose you to hang out with. If she should be hanging out with any goth at the school it should definitely be me." Micheal admitted. Pete managed an eye-roll in the midst of his tickle attack which Micheal definitely caught.

"Sounds like you're je-hehealous! Get off mehehe!" Pete snickered with Micheal grabbing both his lower thighs and squishing into the muscle. Through sheer luck (and some determination) Pete managed to sit up in a different position on the couch and grabbed Micheal by his jacket. Their small tussle took them to the floor of the living room in a bundle of pillows and blankets.

Pete thrust a hand out while blind in the flurry of objects surrounding them and just started to squish his hand over and over. Pete didn't really know why he shot his arm out to retaliate, but something in the back of his mind told him it would work.

His intuition seemed to be right as he felt the random body part he had grabbed start to shake with laughter. Pete forced himself out of the small blanket fort that had fallen on top of them and kept squeezing the body part he had in his hand.

He had Micheal's ribs in his grip, which he held onto for dear life. Satan, Micheal was a squirmer. It was like he was being electrocuted.

"Call me mainstream again, Micheal. Do it. I dare y-" Pete egged on Micheal, but he had never seen this expression on his face before. Micheal's eyes were screwed shut as he laughed out from the small amount of squeezes Pete was administering. Had Pete landed on his death spot by accident?

"Pehehete! Gehehe- *hick!* Gehehehet ohohoff- *hick!* ahahasshole! *hick!*" The sound of Micheal's hiccupy laughter filled the living room. Pete was dumbfounded. He had no idea how to react rather than to keep squeezing. Pete shoved both his hands on either side of Micheal's ribcage and scribbled his fingers into Micheal's bony frame. Micheal burst out into a fresh peal of laughter as he tried tucking his knees into his chest for protection.

"I'm gonna put you in your grave for calling me a poser, Micheal. I should record this and show it to Sophie to prove to her that you're just a ticklish conformist. I bet she'd get a real laugh out of that one. What do you think?" Pete was sure talking big words for someone who was ticklish himself. Micheal could do nothing as his head lay on the carpeted floor and laughed out.

Micheal tried fighting Pete's hands back, but that just raised his arm up and out of the way. Pete took the opportunity and shoved his hand into Micheal's armpit and simply moved his fingers in the space before Micheal snorted and squirmed underneath his friend.

"Gohohohod! Yohohohou- *hick!* yohohohou suhuhuhuhuck! *hick!* Screhehehew ohohohohoff! *hick!*" Despite his words, Pete had it hard taking Micheal seriously, seeing as he had a huge grin on his face and giggled out all of his threatening words. It didn't deter Pete of course, he's heard this all before.

"What did you say? You said I suck? You calling me a vamp kid now, Micheal?" Pete tossed his hair out of his eyes just as Micheal had managed to flip himself onto his belly and started clawing himself away from the situation. Pete launched into action as he grabbed his friend's right arm and barred it into his back.

"L-Let go of me! Sophie Gray knows I'm more goth than you, conformist! This is pointless!" Micheal shouted. Pete let out a disgusted groan as he jammed his fingers into Micheal's side, just underneath his lowest rib. If Pete thought he found Micheal's death spot before, he was dead wrong. Micheal immediately started fighting him and trying to hold back his immense giggles.

"Stahahahap! *hick!* Yohohou're fuhuhucking lahahame- *hick!* Pehehehete!" Micheal's face buried into the carpet of the living room while his shoulders jumped with laughter. Pete was a little shocked for words at how well he was taking control of the situation.

"Oh yeah, I'm lame, Micheal? I'm not the one laughing like a preppy straight-A cheerleader right now. If only Sophie were here, she could see how much of a princess you actually are." Pete had no idea where these fighting words were coming from, especially directed at someone who's always been more commonly revered among the goths AND older than him. Micheal struggled at that last remark but crumbled when he felt Pete finding the divet in his side. That was the spot right there.

"Fuhuhuhuck ohohohohoff! Yohohou- *hick!* Yohohohou're thehehe wohohohohorst! *hick!* Micheal tried lying on the side that was being tickled and swung with his free arm, but Pete was quick to grab the arm and stuff it by the other one and kept both his wrists behind his back in a vice grip. Now Pete alternated between tickling one side and switching to the other randomly.

That was cause for disaster. The randomness of the tickles in Micheal's worst spot kept him laughing as his brain was surprised at every turn where Pete would strike next. Not to mention with his increased laughter, his hiccups increased as well.

Pete could feel Micheal's legs bending at the knee and shooting out behind him over and over again as he sat on his hips. He felt all of his struggling underneath him, but his laugh was what intrigued him most. It was hiccupy yes but it was deeper than his speaking voice, and it had the same rasp to it. It would be more of a romantic laugh if it wasn't infested by those goofy hiccups.

"How much more of this do you wanna take, Micheal? You know what you have to say to get out of this. You have to say you're sorry for calling me a poser, you have to say I'm more goth than you, and you have to say Sophie Gray would prefer me over you showing her around the school cause you're a goddamn dorky ticklish conformist." Pete laid all this out while Micheal immediately started shaking his head.

"Nohohoho wahahahay!! I cahahahan't! *hick!* Ihihihihit's- *hick!* Ihihihihit's toohohohoo muhuhuhuch! *hick!*" Micheal's voice was getting weaker, maybe since he'd gotten tickled a lot longer than Pete was tickled just a moment ago. Pete decided to give Micheal a little boost. Pete let go of Micheal's hands behind his back just for Pete to grab both of his sides and scratch his blunt nails through the thin material of his blouse. Micheal let out a surprised noise as he fell back onto the carpet with his eyes screwed shut in laughter.

"Then I guess we'll stay here a while, Micheal. Say hi to Cthulu for me when you cross into the Ether." Pete flipped his hair out of his eyes while he watched Micheal manage a quick bird-flipping motion with his right hand. Pete groaned audibly as he shoved his fingers into Micheal's armpit, which made Micheal laugh hard.

"Just say you like it-" Pete was about to say before his phone chirped a notification sound. Pete looked back at his phone and decided to give Michael a break. Pete unlatched himself from Micheal's hips as he walked on his knees to read the notification. With Micheal's freedom, Micheal rolled onto his back and gulped in greedy amounts of air with a hand over his beating heart.

"You're a fucking dickhole, Pete... I swear to-" Micheal started, but Pete interrupted him.

"Oh shit. Sophie just invited me to her house. She said she wants to watch something." Pete looked over to Micheal, who was sitting up with a pained expression on his face. It was then that Micheal's phone chirped as well. Micheal pulled his phone out of his pocket and read out the message he received.

"I got an invitation too," Micheal said simply.

"What should we do?" Pete asked. Micheal started typing and sent back a message.

"I asked her what we'll watch," Micheal replied. Pete nodded and flipped his hair out of his eyes before sending the same question to Sophie.

A moment passed before both of their phones chirped at the same time.

"Mandalorian?" They both said out loud in an equally disgusted tone.

"She has a Disney Plus account?" Pete asked.

"Fucking conformist," Micheal said, displeased.

"Nope." Pete and Micheal said in unison before shutting down her invitation.

"Welp, so much for that. What should we do now?" It was then that the main character screamed from the television, grabbing both Micheal and Pete's attention.

Pete and Micheal decided to make up and spend the rest of the night watching cheesy horror movies. None of what they said they actually meant, and they really felt that way. Besides, no way a conformist could actually change the way two REAL goths thought about each other.

Pete did have some interesting stories to tell the rest of the group while Micheal wasn't around, however...