#peter parker x ticklish!reader

[warrenwrites]

Prototype

Prototype Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You mess with a web-shooter and Peter thinks it’s hillarious A/N: Can be read as platonic or romantic Word Count: 1.1K

In all the years you knew Peter, you’d always found him impressive, even before you found out about Spiderman. Although you refused to ever say that to his face. Even if you took away all the powers, acrobatics and super senses, he was still a genius and you had to applaud him for all his inventions.

When he was a young teen, he coded an electric lock command and hooked it up to his door so he could lock his door from his computer. That alone was fascinating, but now he has all his super suits and biochemically engineered webs with the tactile strength to hold up a car.

What particularly intrigued you was his web-shooters, which was why you were currently fiddling with whichever one he had laying around his room while you waited for him. You’d agreed to meet back at his place for a movie night after finishing your day but Peter texted to tell you he was running late after deciding to get pizza on the way home. So, to occupy yourself, you picked up the new Spider-Device that you’d only seen on paper until now. It was shorter and thinner in comparison to his current one, way more compact and discreet.

It felt weirdly out of balance like the cartridge was weighing it down and when you flipped it over for further inspection, it busted open.

The aggravated motion must have tossed the formula loose because the web cartridge popped off like a water balloon slipping from the tap and completely coated your hands. The detonation kept your hands clasped together with the mechanism wrapped tightly in your hands.

 You screamed out in surprise and pulled your face away from the mess. ‘Shit. Goddamn it!’ Peter wasn’t going to be mad but he was going to be a major pain in your ass if he saw this. Knowing him, there was a good chance he’d sit down and start eating the pizza just to torment you, leaving you in your misery. ‘No chance,’ you thought, you were starving.

Struggling, you tried to pry you fingers open to drop the device. When that didn’t work you began to get frustrated and started aggressively shaking your hands, bouncing up and down as you cursed out the webs.

That’s when you heard the door open and saw Peter walk in, pizza in hand. “What’s with the ruckus?” He asked softly, trailing off when he saw the scene in front of him.

You didn’t reply, instead you glared at him and a moment passed as amusement inched its way onto Peter’s face.

Smirking, he moved past you and set the pizza down onto his bed where he started setting everything up as if you weren’t currently webbed up, staring at the floor in shame and anticipation. 

He cleared his throat, “maybe this will teach you to not play with my toys?”

‘That smug son of a-’ You sighed, narrowed your eyes and threatened, “I’ll teach you somethin’ when I get out of this and put you on your ass.”

He turned to face you, eyebrows high in disbelief as his smirked got darker. He then dropped his face back to neutral and nodded as he walked over to meet you in the middle of the room. “Oh, okay. And when you ‘get out’-” he mocked, bringing his hands up to taze your sides, “-all on your own, please, please, do just that.”

“No! Peter-ugh-please,” you practically fell back into his chest as he tugged you closer by your sides. You pulled your hands as close to you as you could but it didn’t ‘fend him off from digging his hands into your sides. “I sweheheheahahahar, Ihihihi’m gohohing to kihihihihill yohohohou. Peter!”

“Hey, this is a good life lesson to not touch hazardous prototypes,” he laughed, wrapping an arm around you to trap you to his chest and tickle both hands into your side. “I mean, come on, did you honestly not expect me to do this?”

He cruely had no interest in moving around to swap spots and continued the maddening attack on your side and it was driving you up the walls. “Fohohor GOD sahahahake! Mohohohove yohohohour hahahahands!” You begged, doing everything in your power to fold yourself in half to protect your sides before giving up and jumping on the spot to shake him off.

He laughed at your thrashing, “listen, if supervillains can’t get out of this, I think you’re stuck.” Finally, he moved a hand to spider into lower back causing you to shriek and jolt forward for a moment before yanking you back into his chest when he kissed you lightly on your head.

He eased up slightly, hugging you and fluttering his fingers into your ribs. You giggled out the stupidest thing you could have said at that point. “Sohohome suhuhuper vihihillain ihihif you cahan take them dohohown.”

“Hey! What’s with the attitude?” He shrilled, “I brought you pizza!”

“Yohohou’re right,” you agree. “You dihid ahand I would lihike to eat it!”

You felt his chest rumble as he laughed, slowly letting you go before resting a comforting hand on your back. “Alright, I can practically hear your stomach growling,” he poked you once again. “Even over your screaming.”

“I wa’n’t screaming,” you mumbled, pouting a little through your smile. Peter grabbed your shoulders and scooted you to the side so he could make his way to his desk, digging his hands into your armpits for good measure. “Okay!”

This time you nearly fell to your knees, jumping out of his way so he could reach the desk. Once he grabbed the dissolvent from his drawer, he made a ‘c’mere’ motion with his hand. Without taking a step, you stretched your arms out in front of you and scrunched your nose up at the way he silently laughed at you.

Once your hands were free you vigorously shook them out in front of you and sheepishly uttered, “I’m sorry for wasting your web fluid.”

“Believe me,” he smiled, “it wasn’t a waste.” He poked your side once more whilst moving around you and this time you slapped his hand away.

“Hey! I can fight back now,” you pointed out, crawling onto the bed and getting comfortable in front of the pizza.

“Oh, I’d love to see that,” he taunted, collecting his laptop from the desk. “Here, you can pick the movie and we’ll call it even,” he remarked, setting it down in front of you.

“Oh no, not even a little bit,” you threatened, yanking the laptop onto your lap. “Get ready for a three-hour compilation of Spiderman’s Greatest Fails.”

Peter groaned out a strained laugh and let his head fall back into the headboard. “But-”

“Nope.”

“But I bought pizza,” he whined, tossing an arm over your shoulder.

“Cry about it, Spider-jerk.”

#ticklish!peter #ler!peter parker #peter 3 x reader #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter parker x reader #ticklish!reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #tasm x reader

[widowsistersandfriends]

Sneak Peek

Summary: You are too eager to open your presents, so you figure one peek won't hurt. The Avengers know just the right way to playfully punish you.

Note: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! I hope you guys have been able to spend quality time with family and friends! I hope you enjoy this fic!

Word Count: 1644

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

You were living at the Avengers compound with many of the Avengers, including the Widow sisters, Steve, Peter, Wanda, Kate and many others. This was your second time celebrating Christmas with them, so you were more used to the traditions. 

Bright and early in the morning, you guys would open presents and then eat a nice big breakfast. Each year they would rotate who would cook. This year, it was you, Peter and Wanda. However, you were looking forward most to opening presents. You were so eager that you couldn’t wait for morning.

You snuck downstairs quietly, making sure to not make any noise to not get caught. You tiptoed towards the tree, using your phone flashlight to look for the gifts that had your name on it. You grabbed a box that had your name on it, being careful to not let the wrapping paper make too much noise. 

You had succeeded in making a pile of your gifts and were ready to start peeking. However, you were so focused on being quiet that you didn’t notice Fanny and Lucky coming up behind you. The two dogs were so interested in the tree and presents and came up next to you. Fanny licked your face, as Lucky nuzzled into your neck.

You let out a yelp of surprise, gently pushing the dogs away.

“Fanny! Lucky! What are you guys doing?” You whispered, knowing the dogs would not answer.

The dogs panted and started sniffing the boxes around you.

“Don’t open those!” You said, trying to move them away from the dogs. However, you got frazzled and let a few boxes topple, causing a loud noise. 

You panicked and wondered about what to do next. You could either stay and tell them the truth, stay and blame it on the dogs, or run and hide in your bedroom.

You decided to stay and blame it on the dogs.

“I owe you one,” you whispered to the dogs, as they continued to smile. 

“Y/N, what on earth is going on?” Natasha asked, walking out and looking half asleep.

“The dogs were trying to open the presents, so I came down to try and stop them before it was too late,” you explained, hoping that your lie would work.

Natasha eyed you suspiciously, knowing that the dogs were asleep before they went to bed.

“How did you know they were opening the presents?” Natasha asked you.

“Umm, I just heard them,” you insisted stubbornly.

“You know we have security cameras around the compound, right?” Natasha said, now smirking.

“Don’t check them!” You blurted out

“What is all this racket?” Yelena said, coming out of their bedroom, her accent strong as she had just woken up.

“I caught Y/N lying and trying to peek at her presents,” Natasha said, as you shook your head and tried to retell your lie to Yelena. 

“It was your crazy dog!” You insisted, scooting away from the two sisters.

“Let’s just see, shall we?” Natasha said, reviewing the security camera footage with Yelena.

Just as the footage ended, you made a run for your room.

“Get back here, Y/N!” The two sisters called after you.

“Never!” You shouted, giggling because you knew you were busted.

You closed the door quickly to your room, only to have it opened a second later.

“No! Leave!” You said through giggles, as you backed up against the headboard of your bed.

“You’re in so much trouble, little one,” Yelena said, as the two sisters pounced on you and pinned you to the bed.

“Nohohoho! Lehehet me gohohoho,” you giggled hysterically.

“We’re not even tickling you yet,” Natasha said with a grin.

“Buhuhut I knohohow you wihill,” you giggled, shrieking as Natasha began drilling into your ribs.

“GAAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP,” you screamed, unable to squirm much underneath them.

“I can’t stop because I have to tickle little girls who lie all the time,” Natasha said, listening to the sweet sound of your giggles.

“Me too,” Yelena said, now tickling your feet and joining in.

“NOHOHO IHIHIT’S TOHOO MUHUHUCH,” you cried, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

“Awww what are you, a little baby?” Natasha teased, worming her hands into your armpits.

You wheezed with laughter, tapping the bed to signal that you surrendered.

The two girls let you have a break, knowing that you were too ticklish to handle them for a long time all at once. 

“So, are you going to tell the truth?” Yelena asked, giving your knee a squeeze.

“No!” You yelped, trying to pull your leg away.

“Liars get tickled~” Yelena said, switching spots with Natasha and squeezing your sides rapidly.

“AHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHO MOHOHORE,” you squealed, arching your back to no avail.

“Admit it,” Yelena said, grinning down at you.

“OHOHOKAY FIHIHINE IHIHI WAHAHAS SNOOHOHOOPING,” you shouted, laughing until you were pink.

“That’s what I thought,” Yelena said, poking your tummy.

“You guys are so rude,” you pouted.

“Aww c’mon don’t act like you don’t love to be tickled,” Natasha teased, as you blushed and didn’t answer.

“It’s late, Y/N, you need to go to sleep,” Yelena scolded playfully. 

“It’s a little too late for that,” Natasha said, as the sun started to rise.

“Well, guess you’ll get to open those presents after all,” Yelena said.

“So you tickled me for nothing?” You asked in disbelief.

“Oh don’t worry, we had a blast,” Natasha said, as you rolled your eyes playfully. 

The three of you headed downstairs to open presents. You eagerly greeted the others downstairs, excited to open presents. You all sat in a circle and took turns opening your gifts. You received some new clothes, a book of your favorite series, a new journal, and some colored pens.

“Alright, let’s get that breakfast going,” Wanda said, in charge of the two kids helping her.

“Do we have to,” you and Peter both whined, wanting to play with and use your new gifts.

“I know you guys want to play that new video game Peter got, but this year it’s our turn to cook,” Wanda said.

“I refuse,” you said cheekily, as Wanda raised an eyebrow at you.

“Is that so?” She asked.

You nodded your head nervously, as Wanda pinned you with her powers immediately.

“No please! I’ve already been tickled,” you pleaded, knowing that this time would be even worse. 

“You can never have too many tickles,” Wanda said, squeezing your hips.

“HAHHAHAHAHAAHA,” you laughed, unable to hold it in.

“You know there’s no escaping this, Y/N,” Wanda said, using her nails to tickle under your chin, making you squeal with laughter.

“Wow, you’re ticklish everywhere,” Wanda teased, as you shook your head in denial.

“STAHAHAHAHAP,” you cried, as Wanda tickled away at your stomach.

“PEHEHETER IHIHISNT HEHEHELPING EITHER!” You cried, trying to avert their attention.

“Hmm, you’re right,” Wanda said, pinning the young boy next to you.

“Steve? Wanna help?” Wanda asked.

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Steve said, switching positions with Wanda. The witch was now by Peter, pinning his arms above his head and tickling his armpits.

“NOHOHOHOT THEHEHERE,” he cried, knowing that his armpits were his worst spot.

“You’re just as much of a troublemaker as Y/N,” Wanda teased, as the poor boy was crying with laughter.

Steve came over to you, giving you a smirk.

“Well well well, what do we have here, Y/N? You just can’t stop causing trouble huh?” Steve asked, going towards your feet.

You groaned in anticipation, curling up your toes to protect them.

“Just get it over with,” you whined.

Steve decided to mess with you, going for a spot you weren’t expecting. He started to tickle your shins and over the tops of your feet, making you jerk out of surprise.

“GAH NO WHY AHAHAA,” you laughed, jumping from the sensation.

“Gotta continue the storyline of you being ticklish everywhere,” Steve said, now scratching behind the back of your knee.

“STAHAHAHAP THAHAHAT TIHIHICKLES,” you shouted.

“That’s the point,” Steve said with a grin.

“Now are you and Peter gonna help with the cooking?” Steve asked, continuing to torment your lower body.

You looked over at Peter, as he had given in after a bit of tickling from Wanda. She was the ultimate ler, but you were also the most stubborn girl on earth, so you were not going to give in.

“Maybe Peter will help, but I won’t,” you said stubbornly, sticking your tongue out at Steve.

“Guess we gotta go for the kill, huh?” Wanda said, as Steve sat on your hips and Wanda sat above your hands.

“OH GOD NO! WAIT! I’LL HELP!” You quickly gave in.

“Hmm, I think we have to make sure,” Wanda said, as she used her magic to tickle all over your neck and started raking her nails rapidly in your bare armpits. Meanwhile, Steve began to wiggle his finger in your belly button, making you shriek with laughter.

“OHOHO MY GOHOHOD STAHAHAP IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAD!” You screamed.

“Yeah? Then we must be doing our job right,” Steve teased, as your face turned bright red from the laughter and embarrassment. 

“IHIHI CAHAHAHANT! HEHEHELP IHIHI GIHIHIVE,” you cried, panting as they finally let you up.

“That’s what you get for being a brat,” they all said, making you feel greatly outnumbered.

“I am not a brat,” you insisted.

“We know you love being tickled, so the brat role fits you well,” Yelena chimed in, ruffling your hair.

You pouted and would never admit it, but you also knew you couldn’t take anymore tickles, so you decided to go help cook.

That Christmas was one of your favorites since it was the first time you helped cook the traditional breakfast. You looked forward to spending more time with them as the years went on, which also conveniently came with something you loved. Tickles.

#natasha romanoff #yelena belova #peter parker #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #ticklish!reader #ticklish!natasha #ler!natasha #ler!steve rogers #ler!wanda #ler!yelena #lee!reader #lee!peter #natasha romanov #mcu tickle #marvel tickle #black widow #marvel tickle fic #tickle fic #natasha x reader #wanda x reader #tickle fics #mcu tickle fic #christmas fic #Christmas #ticklish!peter #marvel #spiderman #captain america

[fluffymcu]

Dating AG!Peter Parker Headcanons

OMG BRUH! I’ve had this in my drafts for months and never posted it! Here y’all go

Peter struggles with balancing his Peter Parker and his Spider-Man life sometimes. And it’s an inner struggle because he feels like he can’t give you all the attention you deserve. So that makes him insecure of himself sometimes.

But that’s why he loves you so much. Because you remind him again and again that you understand his responsibility, and you appreciate that he makes time for you. More than you would expect.

He finds you in between classes, he swings walks you home from school, comes to your window every day after patrol, spends the night over you house many days out of the week, brings you food a lot of times when he fights crime close to good food places, the list goes on

He thinks you’re perfect for him. But like I said before, he’s not so sure he’s perfect for you.

But you sure him he’s wrong every chance you get.

Peter’s big on gifts. He loves to treat you. But don’t get it twisted. He’s still broke. But that makes his gifts that much meaningful to you.

His gifts come in forms of dollar store handpicked candy baskets, flowers, a hoodie or sweatshirt of his, and books.

If you’re really into something, such as comics, makeup, sneakers, whatever; he’ll try his best to gift you something of the sort every once in a while.

He’s a big cuddler. He’s the big spoon most of the time. He loves to wrap around you and hold you tight because he loves how it feels like he’s keeping you safer. He’s the embodiment of “what you love, you protect.” Your safety comes before his own

As much as he loves taking care of you and keeping you safe, he loves that you take care of him too. He doesn’t like to admit it, but he loves it.

“Everybody needs to be cared for, Peter. Even you.”

You stitch him up and care to his wounds when he comes back all beat up. You don’t know it but his heart swells up 3 times every time he’s on your couch watching your concentrated and worried face as you clean his cuts.

Those times usually lead to a make out session..

Overall, there’s never a dull moment with Peter. He’s always messing up, or cracking jokes

“Really Peter?” At least 4x a day

But you can never be mad at him. He’s too wholesome and pure and trying his best.

He’s a very playful boy. Pillow fights, tickle fights, anything to make you laugh cause it’s his favorite thing in the world.

Although in those playful fights, don’t think he’s the type of guy that lets you win. He’s a very competitive person so he’ll take you down in a playfight if he wants to.

But if you’re having a bad day I guess he can let you have a win if it makes you feel better.

“I won!! In your face, bug boy!!” “Rub it in, okay.”

You’re funny if you think you’re gonna go for errands by yourself at night. He could be half asleep but will not hesitate to go with you to run your errands.

“You’re not going out there by yourself it’s dangerous. Let me go with you.”

You listen to him though, he would know. He deals with lots of crap every day at night. Besides it’s comforting to have someone with you who you’re absolutely sure will be able to protect you.

He’s very clingy in the mornings. Will not let you out of bed.

“Where you going?” “To get breakfast” “nooo 5 more minutes.”

You don’t have a choice when his hold around you is inescapable due to good strength

So you stay and run your fingers through hood hair, massaging his scalp as he fake back asleep.

He literally melts in your arms from your scalp massages.

It’s times like those where he’s so grateful that you’re so adamant about taking care of him. He feels so loved. And that’s what he deserves

#avengers #marvel #marvel mcu #ticklish!reader #marvel tickle #tickle fluff #tickle fic #peter parker #peter x reader #peter parker x reader

[fluffyseapancakes]

A Funny Feeling

A really quick ticklish!Reader x PeterParker fic! I’m rusty but I think it turned out pretty cute. 

__________________________________________________

You watch your best friend, Peter Parker, type away at his laptop on your bed. The Avengers were out for the night so you two had the place to yourselves. Peter, being the semi-responsible one, suggested that you two finish up on homework then throw a little get together with MJ and Ned. You agreed, not realizing that you both had three exams, one paper, and five chapters to study for. It is now 8pm with no end in sight, you’re starting to get impatient and your stomach grumbles hungrily. 

“Peter,” you whine, “I’m hungry.”

“I know, we’ll eat after we’re done with this paper,” Peter chuckles. You pout and dramatically flop on the floor. You grab a stuffed animal and throw it at his head, missing him completely by a few feet. You were never the most coordinated person. 

“You missed,” he digs at you. 

“You missed,” you mock, not having a decent enough comeback. He raises his eyebrow and gently places the laptop on your bed. 

“Are you done being a brat?” 

You stick your tongue out at him, “Nah.” 

Before you can react, Peter straddles your waist and pins you down. You feel your face flush and he smiles knowingly. 

“What’s wrong Y/N? Why are your cheeks so red?” He teases. You blush even deeper and tug at your wrists, but he is holding them firmly. 

“S-Shut up,” you stammer, silently cursing yourself for being so flustered. This is your best friend, why is your heart racing so fast? 

“You’re not really in the position to tell me to shut up,” Peter shifts his weight to a more comfortable position and places a hand on your side, you flinch and a small giggle bubbles up from your chest. He quickly connects the dots and wiggles his fingers, you giggle even harder and tug harder at your wrists. 

“No way,” he keeps tickling your side, “you’ve been hiding this for three years?” 

“Y-you’re just unobservant”  you manage to spit out, full on laughing as he switches over to gently squeezing your belly. 

“Unobservant huh?” He continues his ticklish torment, “Would an unobservant person know that you like this?” 

Your face turns beat red and you shake your head frantically, “N-no I don’t!” 

“Well you haven’t told me to stop, and you’re not really fighting back,” he grins, “don’t worry, it’s cute.” Suddenly he lets go of your wrists and attacks your sides with both hands, you shoot your arms down but it doesn’t protect much as you squeal and cackle uncontrollably. After a minute Peter grants you mercy and stops his attack, leaving you in a giggling mess. He playfully ruffles your hair and gets off of you. 

“Wanna order some pizza?” 

You nod, a big smile still on your face with flushed cheeks. He looks at you fondly. 

“Why don’t you ever smile?”

You give him a confused look, “I smile all the time.”

“For a second, but you always pull it back. Like you don’t want people seeing it.” 

“I guess I don’t like my smile,” you shrug, “just an insecurity of mine.”

“Well I like it,” he pulls out his phone and heads out to the living room, “I’m gonna order the pizza.” You watch him leave as you simmer in your thoughts. 

—-

“Hey Peter,” you watch into the living room, Peter hangs up the phone and looks at you with a smile. 

“I got us a medium cheese and large Supreme pizza, Ned and MJ are on their way.” 

You nervously sit down on the couch and wring your hands, “Can I talk to you about something?” Peter notices your nervousness and sits down next to you. 

“Of course, what’s up?”

“Promise whatever I say won’t ruin our friendship?”

Peter laughs and gives you a small hug, “Nothing you say will ruin our friendship.”

“Well…I feel this strong emotional connection towards you. And it’s confusing because I don’t know if it’s platonic or romantic, but I always want to hang out with you and I trust you more than everyone else I know, including Tony and Steve. I like you more than a friend but I don’t feel the urge to date you, it’s weird and complicated and ugh…,” you bury your face into your hands, “my biggest fear is losing what we have now.”

Peter nods and rubs your back, “thank you for being honest with me Y/N. I really appreciate you opening up like this.”

You look up at him, “can we still be friends?”

“Well duh!” He laughs, “I finally found your Kryptonite, I have to exploit it for a little while.” 

You blush and flip him off, making him chuckle even harder. 

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“What? That you’re ticklish?” 

“No, that I…like it,” you grab a pillow and hide your red face into it, “it’s embarrassing.” 

“No it isn’t,” Peter takes away the pillow, “and I won’t tell anyone. I promise. But I still get to have some fun.”

You groan and lean back into the couch, “I’m gonna regret this.”

He pokes you in the belly, making you flinch and giggle. 

“You definitely are.” 

#tickle fic #ticklish!reader #peter parker #reader x peter parker #readerxpeterparker #avengers fic #tickle #tickling #reader insert

[sugars-fluffy-escapes]

Long Distance and Close Friendships 

Peter 3 x Best friend!Reader

SFW; a little angst, lots and lots of fluff, platonic, reverse comfort

Words: 2155

Summary: You and Peter are adorably competitive due to being so closely matched in your intelligence. One day you notice Peter's not feeling like himself, and when he opens up and lets himself be vulnerable, you're there to listen, and comfort him.

Warnings: Brief mentions of traumatic experiences, self doubt and feelings of discouragement, reader being a total tickle monster

DISCLAIMER: I am very unfamiliar with math and science ahajsjdhdjf- So I apologize for any inaccuracies. In this fic, Gwen survived the clock tower incident.

You and Peter's friendship had been heavily founded upon banter. For as long as you two could remember, you had been taking digs at each other, whispering clever quips in the middle of class and lightheartedly taunting one another on your rides to school. Playful insults were par for the course whenever you had conversations. Now, with the two of you in college, almost equally matched in intellect, you and Peter were each others' motivators.

"What... uh... What'd you get for answer number six?"

"What'd you get?" Your cheeky response to Peter's question by asking him the same, made him scoff lightheartedly and hold up his paper. "Incorrect."

His brows furrowed as he did a double take on his own paper. "What- How? What was your answer, then?" He saw your eyes light up with playfulness, and you slowly picked up your paper before dramatically flinging it into view.

"Read it and weep, Parker~"

"Oh yeah? How'd you solve for it, smartass?"

You ran your tongue over your teeth in mock annoyance at Peter's growing smirk, and ripped out a fresh sheet of paper from your binder. "Alright. Let me show you how I correctly found the inverse of f(x) = Ln(x - 7) + 3."

"Ohoh, am I getting a classic Khan Academy lesson right here? I haven't seen one of these since middle school~"

"Shuhut the fuck up, Peter!" Your friend giggled and gestured to the paper with an exaggerated huff of air.

"Show me then, Professor L/N."

"Okay, soooooo, f (f⁻¹ (x)) = x, and the base is e, right? Gimme the next equation." You glanced up at Peter, pencil in hand, slowly twisting it back and forth between your fingers as you patiently waited for your friend to tell them what was next.

He tapped his pencil eraser on his brow bone, pushing out his lips as he pondered, before pointing at you with a confident eyes. "f (f⁼¹ (x)) = x ⇒ f (f⁻¹ (x)) = Ln (f⁻¹ (x) - 7) + 3 = x."

"Right. So then we subtract three from each side to isolate the term Ln." You hastily scribbled out the equation, but playfully kept it out of Peter's view. "C'mon, Parker~"

"Ln (f⁻¹ (x) - 7) = x - 3."

"Bingo. So, did you correctly convert that to an exponential equation?"

Peter glanced down at his own paper, looked up at his friend, and glanced down again. "Ahhhh shit..." You giggled and pat his back.

"It's not a train smash, Pete. You found a wrong answer on my homework earlier in the week. It happens. Now then, got the right equation?"

"Nohow I doho," Peter chuckled, before clearing his throat and holding up his paper, putting on a theatrical tone of voice as he spoke his answer. "eˣ⁻³ = f⁻¹ (x) - 7."

"Ohokay, Shakespeare. What next?"

"Add seven to both sides."

You nodded to affirm the step and wrote out another equation. "f⁻¹ (x) = eˣ⁻³ + 7."

Peter raised one brow in a manner you knew was meant to be teasing. "Did you graph the functions...? You know, to check if the answer's correct?"

"One step ahead of you, dude~" Your rapid-fire retorts to Peter's banter was one of many reasons he cherished your friendship. They're symmetric to the y = x line. You wanna double check and calculate points?"

"Sure." The two of you finished up your work, having correctly calculated the inverse, and met each other in a celebratory high five, before putting your homework away. "Welp. Now we need to find something else to pass the time. Got any ideas?"

"Got any ideas?" There was an air of mischief in your voice that did not go unnoticed by Peter.

"I... I was asking you."

"I was asking you."

"Stop copying me!"

"Stop copying me!" Your voice was dripping with playful mockery, and you raised an eyebrow, the smirk on your lips blatantly screaming 'try me, Parker.'

With a blank stare, before his brows furrowed, Peter leaned forward. "I'm an idiot."

"You're an idiot."

"WHA- That's not how this is supposed to work!" The look of shock on Peter's face had your shoulders shaking as you tried to keep your impish laughter silent.

"That's not how this is supposed to work!" Upon hearing your response, he threw his hands up before dropping them at his sides with a sigh.

"Y/N sucks."

"Peter sucks."

"You know what!? Fuck it! C'MERE!" Peter lunged after you, though you'd already jumped up from the table to run. He quickly caught up to you and tackled you to the floor with ease, mindful not to injure you on the way down. "Still think you're funny, Y/N?"

You had butterflies from the anticipation, knowing full well that Peter had every intention to tickle you senseless, but, your wittiness triumphed and you looked up at him proudly. "IhI'm absoluhutely hihihilarious, Peheheter! Ahaha tohotal cohohomedian! Wahahanna hehear myhy stahahandup rouhoutihIHIHIHIHIIIINEEAHAHAHAAA! PEHEHETER PAHAHARKER, YOUHOU'RE SUHUHUHUCH A DIHIHIHIIIICK!"

Peter had decided to put an end to your sassy answer, his fingers forming claws and going right for your sides. "Wow, Y/N! You must be awful funny to be making yourself laugh this hard~"

"FuHUHUCK youhouhouuuu!"

"Insuhulting me while I've got the upper hand? I oughta tickle you mercilessly."

"YOUHOU'RE AHAHAHALREADY DOHOHOING THAHAHAHATAHAHAHAAA!"

Your legs kicked out sporadically each time Peter hit a particularly bad ticklish spot. He grinned triumphantly, however, his victorious moment of revenge on his friend was suddenly interrupted when your hand shot up to his neck, your fingers brushing over the skin and making him yelp loudly.

With a mischievous laugh, you took advantage of the moment and effortlessly turned the tables, going right for the ticklish spot on his ribs and succeeding in tickling him to the floor. Peter turned over on his front in an attempt to shield his ribs, however, that proved to be to no avail, as you simply plopped down on his back and went right for the nape of his neck. He felt the tickling sensations shot down the length of his spine, and it was nearly unbearable. Peter had to fight to keep his body still, lest he accidentally launch you into the air.

"Y/NNNNNNNN! YOUHOU KNOHOHOHOW THAHAHAHAT SPOHOHOHOT IHIS THEHE WOHOHOHORRRSTEHEHEHEEE!"

"Maybe you should have thought twice about tickling me, then, Pete." Despite your words, you gave Peter a reprieve and moved to his underarms instead. In hindsight, perhaps it wasn't much of a reprieve at all.

"Youhou stahahahahartehehehed ihihihiiiiit! Gehehehehet ohohohoff meheheheheeeee!"

You weren't about to let Peter off the hook so easily, so you offered up an ultimatum. "Admit you're no match for the tickling champion."

"Nehehehehever!" Of course, that was the answer you'd been expecting. Peter Parker was ever the stubborn guy.

"Suit yourself, giggly spider~" Without hesitation, you moved to sit on the backs of his thighs and fluttered your fingers on the underside of his knees.

"FUHUHUHUUUUCK! OHOHOKAHAHAYYY! OHOHOKAY! SHIHIHIHIIIIT! LEHEHEMME BREHEHEHEHEATHE SOHOHO IHIHI CAHAHAHAN SAHAHAHAY IHIHIIIIT!"

You smiled mischievously and in sheer triumph as you ceased the tickling, looking at Peter impatiently, hands on your hips. Your eyebrow raised when he turned back to meet your gaze, still giggling breathily. "Well~?"

"IhIhI'm... nohoho mahatch... fohohohor thehe tihihicklihing chahampion..." He let his head fall onto his arms when you moved off of his legs, joining him on the cold floor of the makeshift lab. "Youhou, do not fight fair, Y/N."

"And you do, Mr. Spidey Strength?"

"IhI will web you to the ground and tickle you to tears, Y/N."

"See how well that ends up working for you, Pete."

The two of you spent many nights like that, working on college homework, verbally jousting, and of course, engaging in tickle fights that often ended with you as the victor. However, over the course of the following week, Peter had slowly begun to act less like himself. He'd begun to show up even later to his college classes, spent a lot more time in his room, and you noticed how little he engaged in your usual banter. Though he continued to insist he was alright, you knew with your heart and soul that he wasn't.

Peter sat in the lab, resting back on the cold wall as he stared blankly at the opposite one several feet away. His eyes were tired, from lack of sleep and many nights of silent tears. He glanced down at his phone, his lock screen alight with a photo of him and Gwen. After Electro, and Harry, despite Gwen Stacy being his path, he knew how much danger she would be in every single day. He saw how much danger she HAD been in.

The two were still together, but now had to navigate long distance, as Gwen went ahead with her career plans and moved to London. As the months reminiscent of their romance in high school fast approached, his heart felt heavy. Despite his spider sense picking up on your footsteps approaching the lab, he still jumped when you knocked.

Your eyes fell upon his the second he opened the door, and with your hands on your hips, you began your lecture. "I have been worried sick about you, Pete! You didn't show up to class and I've been trying to call you all day!"

"Y-You have...?" He'd put his phone on silent that morning, and winced apologetically. "I-I'm... sorry, Y/N. I uh. Things have... well- haven't been..."

"...alright?"

"Yeah. That... I... I lied..."

"I know you did," you jested. "You're a horrible liar."

"Hohow'd you figure that out?" His laugh sounded pained, far from his usual giggling, as he attempted to tease you back.

"Peter..." you fiddled with your sleeves and took a breath, "do you... want to talk about it?"

Your friend was silent, but he stepped aside, allowing you to walk into the room, before quietly closing the door. You patted the couch, and he followed, sitting on the opposite side and resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. His eyes were glassy as they wandered to the floor.

"Gwen and I... uh..." 

His pause after those words made your heart sink as you braced for the worst possible news. "A-Are... are you two, okay? Like, you didn't break up, did you?"

"No! No... We didn't. I... I just... I miss her." Peter fiddled with his hands, and you could see his lower lip trembling. "I'm... really not good at this long distance thing. I keep... thinking back... to all the danger I put her in, by being in love with her..."

"Peter... You can't think like that-"

"She nearly died, Y/N!" His voice was shaking. Those moments where he nearly lost Gwen, would replay in his head on loop. He didn't dare think about what would have happen if he hadn't made the right decisions in the few seconds he had to save her. It would have broken him. "I... I can't... I can't lose her... I'm scared, that... one day when I'm trying to save someone, that I'll make the wrong choice... I'm scared that I won't ever be the Spider-Man that New York deserves..."

The trauma had run deeper than you realized. You had no idea just how close to the danger Gwen had been. Hearing Peter talk so poorly about himself, hearing him doubt himself, sunk your heart. When Peter looked up upon hearing his name, you opened your arms to offer a hug. Several minutes passed. Several minutes of Peter crying, several minutes of you consoling him, followed by several minutes of silence.

"Thank you, Y/N..." the sudden comment startled you slightly, but you smiled, and nudged his shoulder.

"You're my best friend, Peter Parker. You are a wonderful boyfriend to Gwen, and you will always be the Spider-Man New York deserves. You're the Spider-Man the world deserves."

Peter looked at you, and you saw that his eyes, which had been glassy from crying, crinkled at the corners with a bright smile. "You're never this sentimental. What have you done with Y/N?" The tease had your jaw dropping and you quickly tackled him back on the couch.

"THAT'S IT! YOU NEED A LAUGH AND A LESSON FOR THAT SPIDER-SASS!" In seconds, your fingers had formed claws and latched onto his rib cage, making him shriek with laughter.

"NOHOHOHOT AGAHAHAHAHAIIIN! HOHOHOW CAHAHAHAN YOUHOU DOHOHO THIHIHIHIS TO MEHEHEEEE!"

"You tell ME, Mr. Spider Strength~ The only way this is possible is because you're letting me~" Peter had no retort to your comment, and tried to curl up on his side. His actions simply had you fluttering your fingers on the back of his neck. The entire time you were tickling him, he kept himself from moving your hands away. You knew Peter Parker had needed a laugh and support from his best friend, and you were more than willing to do both for as long as he needed.

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

OH MY GAWWWWWD 😭✨ It feels so wonderful to return to fic writing!!! /gen

I'm still struggling with a lot of exhaustion, but I'm so over the moon about all the ideas my brain's been stocking up on for future fics. I'm definitely going to write more ler!reader stories 👉🏾👈🏾 Leave it to making this blog to help me realize I'm a t-word switch 💀 I can't wait to get more drabbles out for y'all too 🖤 Til next time!!

~ Ushu 💛

#lee!peter parker #lee!peter 3 #ler!reader #ticklish!peter 3 #sfw tickle fic #sfw tickle blog #peter 3 x reader

[tickles-in-ficland]

I am working on a fic now but life has been super hectic!

Both my husband and I had covid, he was diagnosed with Autism so there’s been a lot of processing and figuring out next steps and all that mixed with writers block! But thank you for all the love on Green Green Dress! It means a lot. Hopefully I can get something new up soon! If anyone has prompts or ideas definitely send me a DM and share your ideas!

#marvel tickle #mcu tickle #ticklish reader #avengers tickle #lee!reader #loki x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #thor x reader #tony stark x reader #peter parker x reader

[angelltheninth]

Upside-Down Kisses with Spiderverse Characters

Pairing: Peter B. Parker, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Miguel O'Hara, Hobie Brown x Reader

Tags: fluff, establised relationship, teasing, kissing, making out, playful biting

A/N: Writing the thing! The iconic thing!

Peter will kiss you when you're around the house doing mundane things. He'll walk up to you, tapping you on the shoulder first, a wink thrown your way before his lips press against yours, his stuble feeling scratcy and ticklish on your cheek.

Miles sneaks up behind you, fully invisible until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, one after the other before you blink and there he is, in front of you. You found him, now you get a proper kiss on the lips as your prize or how ever many you want.

Gwen hesitates to let you pull her mask down enough for a kiss but relents after the first kiss. Over the mask it won't feel the same, she won't feel your lips properly, or the shaky sigh you let out when her fingers brush your cheek as she pulls your face back for more.

Miguel teases as pushes his tongue into your mouth after he bites at your lips slowly, humming into your mouth as he slowly descends down from his web. Once he's low enough he flips over and picks you up to carry you to the couch.

Hobie kisses you many times over at a very awkward angle before he figures out the right one, where your lips fall together like puzzle pieces. He takes his sweet time with you, each kiss a bit longer then the last until you can't go without kisses.

#peter b parker x reader #miles morales x reader #gwen stacy x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #hobie brown x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse headcanon #spiderverse fluff #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel imagine #marvel headcanons #marvel fluff #peter b parker fluff #miles morales fluff #gwen stacy fluff #miguel o'hara fluff #hobie brown fluff

[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.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker blurb #peter parker x y/n #peter parker headcanon #peter parker drabble #peter parker imagine #peter parker headcanons #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x y/n #tasm!peter parker drabble

[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.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x fem!reader #tasm!peter one shot #tasm!peter imagine #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield x you #tasm!peter #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter parker

[dwindlinghaze]

where did you go?

(peter parker x fem!reader)

summary: peter woke up in a strange city and you're nowhere to be found.

contents: angst, peter crying

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"goodnight pete,"

that is the only thing he remembered before waking up this morning in a place he barely recognises.

his room was just like his room but he doesn't know where all his stuff go. his bed is in a white-coloured bed sheet instead of the dark blue one he had the night before. his desk was neat and clean, unlike the one he had before today. when he looked outside the window, the building next door he vividly memorised wasn't there. and most importantly, you weren't there.

no note, no messages, no calls. you never left him without a trail.

peter went back to sleep hoping all of this is just a dream. a nightmare.

he woke up for the second time that day only to be met with the same scene before.

he pinched himself until his arms were bruised. he called aunt may but she didn't answer. he called you, and still, no response.

he decided that your phone was probably dead or you forgot to bring it. peter walked to your part-time workplace, a small library near the park. you've volunteered to work at the place to fill in your summer holidays with.

peter ran down the path to the park to only be met with a big building. the roads were all the same but everything around is misplaced. he asked one of the security people where the park that's supposed to be on this building's ground is. the security answered that there was never a park in this street.

then he asked where the verona library is and the officer once again said that there was no verona library in here but there is a library around.

peter thanked the security then he ran to the library nearby.

as he opened the door he saw a young boy sitting on one of the bean bags. "hey do you think you can help me?"

the boy looked at him and say to peter, "mother said i'm not allowed to talk to strangers."

"where's your mother?" peter asked.

"here," a stern voice of an older woman bellowed.

"oh yea- uh do you think you know someone named y/n? she works here as a volunteer to help you." peter reported

"y/n? volunteer? what volunteer? i don't know what you are talking about boy. do you want to borrow a book?" the woman dictated.

"no. she works here! here's a picture of her and please tell me you remembered her!" peter pulled out his phone and held it to the woman's face with shaky hands.

"do i know you?"

"no, but she knows you- she works here every monday, tuesday, and thursday from ten to four. i'm sure you know her!" his lips trembled as he talked.

"i fear i don't. go home, she's probably sleeping."

peter huffed and walked around to find something familiar. even the clock tower looks different. this one is more modern and advanced than the one he remembered.

he walked more and more, holding back his worry and tears as the wind flew past. he saw a young couple at the wishing well, tossing pennies on the water.

it reminded him of peter's first date where he took you out and brought you to the wishing well to wish thousands of impossible things with him.

he eyes glanced at the couple again, tears now flowing down his cold cheeks. a swarm of complicated feelings flying around him.

the boy looked at peter and furrowed his brows at him as he kissed his date's shoulder. the girl giggled and wrapped her arms around the boy in return.

and that reminded him of you too. you giggled whenever peter kisses your shoulders because you said it's ticklish.

peter tore his eyes from the two then he finally came to the police station.

"i think i've been kidnapped." he said.

"uh you're in a police station." the officer replied.

"i know but- i don't recognise this place! it's the same as my old town- queens but everything is different here! that sandwich bar across the street is supposed to be a bank!"

"could you give me your name please? and maybe describe your situation."

"i'm peter. peter parker. i fell asleep last night in my own bed and then this morning i woke up in my bed but it's not my bed. i know for a fact that it's not!"

"uh have you been drunk or drugged?"

"no! i'm only 20 i don't drink nor do i remember being drugged."

"where do you live?"

"20 ingram street, forest hills, queens."

"the thing is- there is no such thing as ingram street."

"there is! i live there. it must be a mistake! here is my citizenship card. look '20 ingram street'."

"i think you're just drunk." the officer waved off. a ringing silence filling the room so loud.

"i'm not drunk! i swear someone must've kidnapped me and put me in a place similar to my home! tell me, who are you working for?"

"i work for the federal government of new york."

"you know what forget it."

he walked back to his place or not his place and peter dropped to the floor, clutching his chest as he wailed.

he doesn't know what happened. he prayed and prayed that this will go away. or all of this were just a dream.

that's all he ever asked for.

where did you go?

the door opened, revealing the boy in the park peter saw earlier.

"stop right there!" he yelled, pointing his finger at peter's hunched body on the floor. "what are you doing in my apartment?"

peter's ear was ringing, his vision was blurry. "i have no idea what i'm doing here! do you know where am i?"

"who are you?" he questioned.

"i'm peter. peter parker."

"no. you're lying."

"i'm not. i am peter parker."

"i am peter parker."

#peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem #peter parker fic #peter parker blurb #peter parker and reader #peter parker angst #peter x reader

[warrenwrites]

Peter Parker Masterlist

Prototype (1.1K) Summary: You get yourself into a sticky situation when you mess with a faulty web-shooter. Peter takes full advantage of the opportunity.

Low of Me () Summary: You instinctively flinch when Peter’s hand comes to close to your sides. Frankly, he’s offended by the insinuation.

Web Design () Summary: 

Sidekick () Summary:

#lee!peter parker #ler!peter parker #ticklish!peter #peter 3 x reader #tasm x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter parker x reader #ticklish!reader

[widowsistersandfriends]

Fighting the Tickle Monster

Request: Hi! First of all, your fics are amazing and cute and I'm so sorry for the haters you're getting! If that's okay, I wanted to give you a little prompt for Wanda and reader. Like, since joining the compound, reader has always seen Wanda being the tickle monster (she gave herself that title!) so they get Wanda, only to find out she is a huge and adorable walking tickle spot! You're free to add whatever you want, even other characters, I don't mind :)

Notes: Thank you so much for this cute request! I appreciate your patience waiting for this fic! I hope you enjoy :)

Word Count: 2030

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

You were new to the Avengers, as this was only your second week living in the compound with all of them. You were still in awe of the structure and layout of your new living space. The highest technology, finest finishes, and updated appliances. For now, you had your own room, but you were never alone for long. Especially since the rest of the Avengers loved hanging out as a group downstairs in the common area.

You had many mentors who helped lead the way for you. As you learned more about how to be a great superhero, you also learned a lot more about the roles around the compound. Yelena was the prankster, roping in Kate and Peter so she could split the punishment. Peter and Kate were young and maybe just a tad bit scared of Yelena. They figured it was better to split the punishment three ways rather than two. Natasha was definitely the mom of the group, caring and strong, while always looking out for your safety and well-being first. Steve was the goofy one, always cracking corny jokes and happened to be an amazing chef as well. Tony was the uptight, serious, all work no play guy around there. Thor, Bruce, and Clint were chill dudes, who bonded over their lack of understanding of what young people do these days. Lastly, Wanda was the one who would do anything to protect anyone, but she also had a mischievous side and couldn’t help messing with people given her powers.

From what you’ve seen so far, whenever Yelena would try to pull pranks with Kate and Peter, Wanda would be the first to punish them with tickles. Her powers allowed her to pin all three of them at once while still having both her hands free. Natasha would sometimes join in to help her or give away Yelena’s weaknesses. Even though you were new here, Yelena still tried to rope you in as much as possible. Today, you were involved in your first quadruplet prank, which you learned the hard way to not do.

The four of you had put on swim flippers, dragging mud prints into the compound, trying to scare the others that an animal had walked through and left footprints. You guys were able to execute it quickly, running into the garage to take off the flippers and hide them. You knew this was a harmless prank since Wanda could use her magic to clean it up in seconds. However, your flippers were stuck and you couldn’t get them off in time, when the garage door opened and Wanda caught you guys in the act. 

“Well well well, what do we have here?” Wanda asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing…” You said, avoiding eye contact and trying to move out of sight.

“Seems like Y/N has gotten roped into one of Yelena’s famous pranks huh?” The witch said, knowing that Yelena and the rest of the crew were hiding nearby. 

“I wasn’t doing anything!” You blurted out.

The witch knew you were lying, as she could hear your thoughts. 

“Really?” Wanda said, smirking a little before sending some magic towards you. In seconds you felt ticklish sensations on your ribcage, making you double over with laughter and wrap your arms around yourself, to no avail.

“Wahahanda stahahahap gehehet ihihit ohohoff,” you giggled, struggling to stay standing.

“Not until you spill the truth,” Wanda said, upping the sensation, making you fall to the ground laughing. It also didn’t help that she had added sensations to your armpits. Wanda slowly made her way over to you, as you were a giggly mess on the floor. Your superpower was the ability to shut your nerves off. However, you were too ticklish and couldn’t concentrate enough to focus.

“C’mon Y/N, what’s the matter? Can’t turn your ticklishness off?” Wanda asked, now picking you up and flying back into the living room with you, and pinning you with her powers. With that, she continued the sensations and began to tickle your sides with her sharp nails.

“GAHAHAHA WAHAHANDA STAHAHAHAP PLEHEHEASE IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES,” you screamed with laughter. 

“Better fess up who else is in cahoots with you,” the witch teased, speeding her fingers up.

“AHAHAHA NEHEHEVER,” you cried, unable to squirm and knowing that if you didn’t fess up, she would tickle you to tears.

“Tell the tickle monster, before she makes you pee your pants,” Wanda teased, moving down to your feet.

“NOHOHO NOHOHOT THEHEHERE OKAHAHAY IHIHI GHIHIVE,” you shouted, knowing that once someone got a hold of your feet, you were done for.

“Tell me,” Wanda demanded, as you giggled from the lingering sensation.

“Ihihi ahaha was wihith Yelena, Kate, and Peter,” you huffed out, lying there in defeat.

“Ohh interesting,” Wanda said teasingly, as you knew she already knew all the details, wanted to tickle you to get you to confess.

“You’re evil, you know that,” you said playfully.

“Glad you picked up on that in the short time you’ve been here,” Wanda said with a wink.

“Now what do you say? Want to help me dish out a punishment to your other little minions?” Wanda asked with a smile.

You thought for a second, knowing that either way you would be in trouble. Whether it was with Wanda or Yelena. However, Wanda had way more power, so you took your chances with Yelena and led the witch back to the garage where the others were hiding. In your defense, they didn’t try to save you when you were being tickled to pieces.

You turned on the lights in the garage, telling Wanda where they hid. 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll give you a headstart so they don’t try to chase you,” the witch whispered. You quickly ran off, hearing Yelena shout your name to get back there. You let out a giggle and returned to the living room where you found Natasha doing a sudoku puzzle.

“Heard you got wrecked, Y/N,” Natasha said, smirking without looking up.

“Shut up, I did not!” 

“Everyone could hear your laughter throughout the compound,” Natasha said. Before you could respond, Wanda came back in, all three kiddos in tow.

“Why do we keep agreeing to this?” Peter asked Kate, who looked like a deer in the headlights, knowing she was doomed. Yelena was the only one trying to wiggle her way out of Wanda’s grasp, being unsuccessful. 

“The more you squirm, the more she’s gonna tickle you,” Natasha told Yelena.

“But if I escape I won’t get tickled at all,” Yelena said back matter-of-factly.

“Too bad you’re not escaping,” you chimed in shyly.

“You little turd. You’re the reason why I got caught!” Yelena said, pointing at you.

“Don’t worry, I already tickled her to pieces,” Wanda said, catching you blushing.

“Oh man, I wish I saw that,” Yelena said with a chuckle.

“You missed a lot. She’s super ticklish and has the sweetest giggle,” Wanda said, floating her magic towards you, this time on your stomach.

“Nohohohoo Wahahahanda plehehehease ihih’ve hahahad enohough,” you squealed, curling up into a ball. They all laughed at your reaction, much to your embarrassment. 

“I didn’t forget about you guys,” Wanda said, promptly pinning the three of them with her powers.

“Now, who should I start with first?” Wanda said, wiggling her fingers.

“Kate!” Yelena blurted out, before bursting into laughter, as Wanda raked her nails over Yelena’s armpits.

“AHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAP.”

“Since you volunteered someone else, I decided to tickle you first,” Wanda said cheekily.

“IHIHITS SOHOHO BAHAHAD PLEHEHEASE,” the blonde laughed, as Wanda began to squeeze her knees and knead into her hips.

Wanda gave her a break and moved on to Kate, who was the most scared out of all of them.

“Please don’t tickle me! I’m sorry!” Kate pleaded.

“Hmm, no I think the tickle monster is still hungry,” Wanda said, blowing three raspberries on Kate’s stomach. It tickled so much that Kate went into silent laughter.

“Wow Kate, she’s not even doing much,” Peter teased, whose eyes then widened when Wanda reached over and tickled his armpits, making the boy squeal with laughter. She now used her other hand to dip a finger into Kate’s belly button. 

“WANDA NOT THEHEHEHERE IHIHI CAHAHANT STAHAHAND IHIHIT,” Kate screamed. She was getting their two worst spots at the same time. Once she felt they had enough, she sent some magic to all of them, tickling them on their feet and sides. They were all laughing too much to even speak. Meanwhile Natasha had moved closer to you on the couch.

“You know, we should try to get Wanda back. She’s always the most powerful one here, but why not give her a taste of her own medicine?” Natasha suggested quietly to you.

“No way! I’m not suffering through punishment again!” You hissed back quietly.

“You’d rather be in trouble with me?” Natasha said, pinching your side, making you yelp and jump away.

“That’s what I thought,” the redhead said, now explaining the plan to you.

Natasha snuck up behind Wanda while she was distracted, grabbing her from behind and pinning her arms above her head. Meanwhile you came around and quickly sat on Wanda’s waist.

“Y/N! What are you doing??” Wanda questioned, trying to break free from Natasha. 

“I’m here to get revenge,” you said simply.

“Too bad I’m not ticklish, so you’ll have to find another way,” the witch responded confidently.

“We’ll see about that,” you said, slowly tracing your fingers over her sides and stomach. You saw her jolt, as she sucked her stomach in to avoid your fingers.

“Oh what do we have here? Seems like I’m not the only liar here,” you said, now kneading into her sides and tickling her stomach with no mercy.

“Y/N STAHAHAHAP OHOO MY GOHOHOSH,” the witch cried out with laughter. The tickling was enough for her to break concentration, which released the other three from her spell holding them down. Meanwhile, Natasha was using her free hand to tickle the witch’s armpits. 

“Alright everyone, pick a spot,” Natasha said, keeping a firm grip on her wrists.

Yelena went to her feet, Kate was at her knees, and you and Peter would get her upper body, while Natasha got her armpits. 

“Everyone ready?” Yelena asked.

“NO GUYS PLEASE! DONT DO THIS!” Wanda panicked, unable to escape. 

“Who’s the tickle monster now?” You asked, as you all began to tickle her to pieces.

“NOHOHOHO AHAHAHAHAHA GUYS STAHAHAP,” Wanda shouted, overwhelmed with ticklish sensations. 

You raked your nails over her ribs, before digging in between her rib bones knowing that you had hit a sweet spot. The witch tried to kick and wiggle as much as she could, but she was outnumbered.

“Do you admit defeat?” Yelena asked, running her nails over a particularly good spot near her heel. 

“GAHAHA NEHEHEVER SCREHEHEW YOHOHOU GUHUYS,” the witch laughed, turning pink.

“Man she is stubborn,” Peter commented with a small laugh.

“Fine, then take this as revenge for all the times you tickled us. Turns out you’re even more ticklish than us!” Kate said, now tickling the back of her knees.

Natasha had let her guard down a bit, loosening her grip on Wanda’s wrists. The witch saw this opportunity and extended her arms to reach Natasha’s stomach. She wiggled her fingers, causing Natasha to yelp and let go of her wrists. With her hands free now, she immediately turned towards you and reached up to tickle you off of her. You squealed and immediately got off of her. Wanda was able to overpower the others and quickly turned the tables on Natasha, the only one who hadn’t been tickled yet. 

Within seconds, Natasha was laughing and squealing, failing to swat Wanda’s quick hands away. You joined the other three, fleeing to safety.

“You brats!” Natasha yelled out over her laughter. The four of you knew they would get revenge on you guys afterwards, so you guys took advantage of the head start. Even if tickling embarrassed you, you loved the bonding it created between you and your superhero teammates. And the one thing you always remembered was that Wanda was the ultimate tickle monster.

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #peter parker #kate bishop #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #peter x reader #spiderman #mcu tickle #ticklish!reader #ticklish!peter #ler!wanda #ticklish!wanda #yelena x reader #yelena belova #ticklish!yelena #marvel tickle #black widow #marvel tickle fic #tickle fic #marvel #mcu #mcu tickle fic #hawkeye #tickle fight #tickle fics #avengers tickle #the avengers #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[nowayhomer]

Please, kissing tobey!spider's neck and how he reacts about it 🥰🥰🥰🥰

ahhh !! this is so cute and my first thought was like, he generally keeps himself in a hard shell but the moment just reveals something cute ?? can't explain but i definitely tried to put it in writing what the moment was like.

caught by surprise

Ⅰ. PAIRING tobey!peter x reader

Ⅱ. GENRE fluff, just super cute, peter smiling for once in spider-man history

Ⅲ. NOTES there's no specified pronouns or gender identification so y'all could literally just imagine yourself in any way you want

Ⅳ. WORD COUNT 354

peter was sewing the sleeves of his suit while listening to a physics podcast. you knocked on the door of his apartment, “peter ? can you open the door ? it’s stuck again.” peter got up and tugged on the handle, pulling it off completely. he gave a sheepish grin when he saw you through the hole where the doorknob had once been, staring at him with disbelief. he let you into his very humble abode and webbed the door so no one could peek through it. “what have you been up to ?” “i’ve just been sewing and studying, you know, another regular night for me.” peter sat in his cloven chair that he tried holding together with duct tape. you stood behind him, resting your hands on his shoulders while you watched him work. it was times like these when you admired peter the most and found a practice of studying his habits. it was not lost to you how he licked the corners of his lips in concentration, the way he twirled the needle between his fingers when he paused to listen to a bit of his podcast that caught his attention. your own attention had been directed to his neck. you had kissed every part of his face, never trailing further down until now. peter felt your plush lips against his neck and pulled away quickly, his hairline to his collarbone turning red. “were you not okay with that ? i’m so sorry,” you went to hold his hand. “no, it was nice… you just caught me by surprise and i’m…” he couldn’t pull himself to finish. “you’re what ?” “well, sometimes my spider senses kick in when i'm surprised, so i got surprised when you kissed me and my senses made me ticklish.” you doubled over, clutching your stomach when it hurt from laughing. “aw, the oh, so tough peter parker gets ticklish. you are so adorable.” you pinched his cheeks. peter wrapped his arms around you, planting a kiss on the bridge of your nose before saying, “please keep giving them.”

you had made it a tradition since then to greet him with kisses on his neck, loving his small laughs and cherishing your relationship.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #tobey!peter x reader #tobey!spiderman #tobey!peter parker x reader #tobey maguire x reader #marvel fic #aurigaupdates

[supermarvel-fics]

Tickletober Day 27: Hiding

fandom: marvel

word count: 830

pairing: peter 1 x reader (platonic)

summary: peter keeps scaring you and so you finally get revenge on him.

You adored Peter Parker. Really, you did. There was something about his energy, his excitement to be involved, that always had you smiling and feeling grateful that you were part of this band of heroes. You were happy that he was happy.

But you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that you were completely and utterly annoyed with him at the moment.

Halloween was just a few days away and Tony had vehemently denied the kid a party. Peter was obviously disappointed, but understood that the majority of the Avengers had duties to take care of. Enemies don’t go dormant just because its Halloween.

So, to make up for the fact that he wouldn’t have a party to fuel his holiday excitement, he began scaring people. He’d hide behind corners and couches, under desks and beds just to startle someone by grabbing their leg or jumping out at them. Peter was good at it, too, because he was Spiderman for Christ’s sake—he knew how to be stealthy.

At first, it was funny. Hearing Bucky and Thor scream like girls was possibly the highlight of your day. Even when he targeted you, you could find a good laugh out of it. But then it went on for another week and you were starting to become anxious that Peter was hiding around every corner.

This morning, though, you knew you’d be safe. Peter had been bragging all week about an event he was doing at school, so he wouldn’t be in the tower for the entire day. You sighed in relief as you woke up, ready to tackle the day without the looming fear of being scared.

You completed your routine as normal; eating breakfast, training with Steve, relaxing with a good book. It was the perfect day. Well, it had been until you felt something scratch at the sole of the foot that had been dangling off the couch.

You screamed bloody murder—both from surprise and from how bad it had tickled—pulling your foot into yourself and scooting back into the corner of the sofa. In your struggle, your book had been thrown across the room, revealing to you a smirking Peter Parker.

“I didn’t know you were ticklish!” He said with raised eyebrows and a mischievous lilt to his tone. Catching your breath, you scowled at him.

“What the hell, Peter! You’re not even supposed to be here!”

Peter stood to his full height from where was squatted on the floor and shrugged. “I wasn’t, but the thing got cancelled because of the rain.”

“And so you decided to scare the ever-living shit out of me instead?!” You berated him, trying to control your breathing to get your heart-rate back down to normal. Peters reaction did the opposite. He grinned smugly and reached over to pinch your kneecaps.

“It was the best reaction I’ve gotten so far. I can’t believe you’re ticklish!”

You barked out a laugh, then practically growled in anger. You weren’t shrugging this off as easily as you did in the past. You were determined to teach him a lesson. Peter’s hand was lingering near your leg, so without a second thought, you pulled it towards you, sending him falling onto the couch beside you.

With little to no effort, you had him pressed face down to the couch, his hands pinned against his lower back with one of yours.

“I let this little game go on way too long, Peter,” You uttered out with a rasp to your voice. You placed your free hand on the boy’s side. “Let’s not forget how ticklish you are.”

You sprung into action, squeezing harshly at his torso. In normal combat conditions, Peter was a bit stronger than you and was able to get out of most holds that weren’t made by enhanced individuals, but tickling Peter was the one way to weaken him. He fell limp against the couch, pressing his face into the cushions to muffle his loud laughter.

“WAHAIT! OKAHAY, OKAY, OKAY!” Peter shouted. You shifted up to his ribs, getting dangerously close to his worst spot. “AHHHAHA! OKAY! I’M SOHORRY!”

“Are you gonna stop scaring me?” You asked without relenting. Peter nodded fervently, unable to reply due to the how hard he was laughing. “Thank you, but let me show you what will happen if you go back on your word.

As quick as you could, your fingers shot into the space under his arm, sending the teen into immediate hysterics. You wiggled them around for a few seconds before releasing him completely, patting him on the back to let him know you were done with your revenge.

“I-hi won’t scare you agahain, I swear,” He hiccoughed, pushing himself upright and blushing as he caught your gaze. “I can scare the others, though, right?”

You genuinely laughed in delight, poking his side for good measure. “Yes, Pete. I love it when you sneak up on Bucky. I’ll even help you this time.”

#marvel #marvel tickle #mcu #tickle prompts #tickle fic #lee!peter1 #ticklish!peter #ticklish!peter1 #ler!reader #peter 1 #peter parker #peter parker 1 #ticklish!reader #augtickletober2022 #tickletober prompts #tickletober2022

[delightfulfics]

Delightfulfics Masterlist <3

HELLO EVERYBODY! This is my blog where I write tickle fan-fictions (mainly with reader). This is SFW ONLY so please only requests with SFW. Please do not be shy to reach out to me and/or request prompts. Thank you all for the support and please do not forget to be kind to each other <3

Fandoms

*PROMPTS OPEN FOR BUSINESS*

Posted works down below ☟

Last Updated: 7/18/22

★ MARVEL ★

Loki x Reader

Never Steal From a God - Y/N steals something of Loki’s and let’s just say he is not happy about it.

The Visit (ft. Thor) - Thor and Loki are visiting the Avengers Compound and the reader is being cheeky and playful so the pair decide to get their revenge.

Pestering the God of Mischief - Y/N decides to bother the God of Mischief... bad idea.

Intimidated - Reader is scared of Loki and Loki fakes them out by using their weakness against them, tickling.

“I think I kinda like this...” (DRABBLE)

Steve x Reader

Shield Snatcher - Reader takes Steve’s shield for fun but when Steve finds out he chooses to show you how not so fun it is to steal his things.

A Game of Hide N’ Seek (ft. Bucky & Peter)

- Y/N and the rest of the Avengers decide to play Hide N’ Seek and when Y/N and Peter don’t listen or follow the rules it takes two certain soldiers to deal with them.

Two against one?! No way! (ft. Bucky) (DRABBLE)

Bucky x Reader

Vlogs With the Winter Solider (ft. Peter) - Y/N and Peter decide to vlog with Bucky Barnes but once he starts to get annoyed with them he decides to teach the kids a lesson.

The Reunion - Bucky and Reader reunite and Bucky tries to figure out if Reader is still ticklish. Bucky is successful but he forgets… he has the same weakness.

Peter Parker X Reader

Loyalty - Peter gets his wisdom tooth taken out and he get really honest about his feelings with the reader. Reader then realizes how much Peter is so loyal to them.

Try Not to Laugh - Peter and Y/N play a little game of “try not to laugh” and Y/N is not cracking so Peter turns to a last resort and gets surprised with new information about reader.

Tony Stark x Reader

Get Up - Y/N is too stubborn to wake up. But, Tony has the perfect way to get her up.

Don’t Throw a Pillow at Iron Man - Tony finds Reader napping before she has to train with Steve. He tries to wake them up peacefully but an annoyed Reader throws a pillow at him. He gets angry and decides they deserve a “punishment”

Avengers X Reader

Pranks - Reader and Peter are pulling pranks on the Avengers and secretly recording them to save for memories on their prank adventures but when one of the Avengers find their cameras they seek to get revenge.

The Fight Before Christmas - Y/N and Sam kept bickering all night and once Bucky has had enough he makes them shut up with laughter.

Peter Parker X Avengers

Smile (ft. Bucky)  - Bucky wants to know what's wrong with Peter and when he can't get the kid to talk he gets him to smile instead.

↬ SHERLOCK ↫

Sherlock x Reader

Always Get Permission From a Detective - You post a picture of Sherlock in his signature hat that he despises. You didn’t get permission and when he finds out who the culprit is he is not pleased.

Opening Up - Reader does not know how to act around with Sherlock because of his intimidating appearance and they want to find a way to relax around him and open up more and luckily Sherlock finds a way.

❦ SUPERNATURAL ❦

Dean Winchester X Reader

Don’t Test Me - Y/N finds out what happens when they mess with their big brother and its funny until they go too far and Dean stops you from testing him so much using your biggest weakness.

Something Funny - You find out exactly what happens when you wake Dean and lets just say its not as pleasant as you thought it would be.

“Where’s that smile?” (DRABBLE)

⤱ THE WITCHER ⤱

Geralt Rivia X Reader

Consequences - Reader messes with Geralt and has to face the consequences.

Geralt Rivia X Jaskier Pankratz X Reader

Cheer Up - Y/N is upset and Jaskier convinces Geralt to cheer them up.

[writingfics-passingtime]

The Perfect Alibi

~12,100 words of (AG/TASM) Peter Parker x reader fluff

Pairing: Peter Parker x female reader

CW: Swearing, blood/wound, alluding to (Gwen’s) death

If you went back less than two years and told your fresh-out-of-high-school self that you’d soon become the fake girlfriend of a vigilante, you’d… well, to be honest, you’d probably have found it cool.

Maybe ‘cool’ wasn’t the right word. More… unconventional.

It was the perfect arrangement. You both got exactly what you needed: an excuse, a reason, a justification for your actions.

It’s a ruthless, cutthroat job market out there and, after getting a full-ride scholarship Columbia University, which was widely regarded as the best school for science in New York, you knew these next four years were for focusing hard, studying harder, and getting the best grades possible. Bonus if those grades got you valedictorian.

Sure, maybe it had been a pipe dream to be valedictorian of your class but after topping almost all of your freshman courses, you gained more confidence in that crazy idea that you could just maybe do it. It would look stellar, unbeatable even, on job applications. Hell, maybe you wouldn’t even have to apply, and they’d all come crawling to hire you.

You’d created a list (found in the back page of your journal which you only wrote the most important things in) of non-negotiable ways to ace the college life.

1. No dating

2. No drugs/alcohol

3. No dating

4. Find like-minded friends, keep the circle small

5. NO DATING!!!

6. Don’t skip class under any circumstances. Even if you’re dead.

The list was your bible, and it had clearly served you well. However, at the beginning of your sophomore year… it started. The few close friends you’d made, Dana especially, starting probing into why you never dated. There were admittedly a number of people on campus you found attractive, some of them you even had a spark with, but you suppressed any emotion, snuffing any potential flame before it started. Whenever you tried to explain that your high-school relationship had almost cost you your SAT results due to the distraction of it, Dana and Sam would wave it off as you being a dumb teenager and point out that you‘re clearly better adjusted now, if not having gone too far in the opposite direction.

They pestered and pestered, obviously with their hearts in the right place but you were getting to the point where you were nervous that showing up to hang out with them would result in you being tricked into a blind date - that’s how persistent they were. They’d tell you whenever someone asked whether or not you were single, and you’d, without fail, say “Tell them I’m not available.” You were met with eye-rolls, admonishing stares, the occasional begging for you to give them a chance. You held firm. Half a semester into your sophomore year, they started worrying about you a little more, asking if you were nervous about dating, if you’d give it shot, did you not like anyone? It was okay if you didn’t. They just wanted you to be happy, not at all understanding the pressure you were under to keep your grades up to keep your scholarship. Almost at the breaking point, you considered going on just one date to shut them up for a while.

Then, one night, the perfect solution climbed through your window.

It was lucky your roommate’s girlfriend lived ten minutes from campus, effectively rending your room a single-person dorm. Seriously, you could count on one hand the number of nights Olivia spent in the dorm with you (and none of them were very pretty, considering she’d only sleep in her own bed when she and Remi were fighting). This particular night, all was well with their love so Liv was nowhere to be seen. It was early, around 2:00am, when someone jimmied open the latch on your fourth-story window.

You held your breath, dead silent, as your fingers closed around the Louisville Slugger aluminium bat you hadn’t used since you were nine but brought to college specifically for this reason. The blood pounded in your ears, your heart felt like it’d jumped into your throat, blocking any potential scream as the window between the two single beds slid open. A small grunt, a cough, a wheeze, then, a loud CLUNK brought a yelp through your lips as a tall, masked figured tumbled over your bedside table and onto your floor. The groan of pain told you he was injured, and the dim glow of the safety streetlights dotting the pavement outside illuminated the blue, the red, the webbed patterns, and you dropped the bat from shock. It fell in a muted clang to the floor beside the bed, ricocheting and softly whacking Spider-Man in the head.

“A-are you okay?” You gasped, instantly falling to your knees beside him. “You’re Spider-Man,” you stated the obvious, reaching up and scattering your hand around the beside table until you switched on the lamp. Once you did, another gasp left your lips when the brighter light revealed a large strip of blood pooling around his abdomen. “Can you hear me?” You took his masked head in your heads, looking at the blood stain slowly creeping, growing. He only responded with a groan. “Look, I-I know your identity is a secret so you can keep the mask, but you’ve gotta let me check out this wound.”

He groaned again, turning his head to look up at your face properly. “Oh man,” he breathed out, then tried to sit up. “Oh man, oh man,” he winced and grabbed his side, just at the bottom of the blood patch.

“I know first aid,” you let him sit up. “Look, I’m really not trying to-”

“I’ve gotta get outta here,” he coughed again, shakily planting one foot on the ground. “Wrong window, oh man.”

You winced, huffed and grabbed the first-aid kit from the bottom shelf of your bedside table, holding it up to show him. “Seriously, you can keep the mask on, but we have monthly dorm inspections and I can’t explain that much blood on my carpet without looking like a serial killer.” The frantic words tumbled through your lips in one long breath as you desperately hoped you weren’t going to have to report a dead vigilante in your room. Your chest heaved as you gestured to the drops making their way through his suit and splattering at his feet.

“Sorry- sorry!” He placed his other hand on his side as well, before looking over at your raised blinds. In a second he’d whipped up his wrist, shot a web at the cord, then yanked it down to cover your window. He looked down again at the blood, and you threw a towel to him. “Uh, thanks,” he winced again, “Ah, ah, ahhhh,” he breathed out, applying pressure to the patch. He sounded young.

“Will you let me see?”

He looked back up at you, and a small shift of his head to look at the first aid kit you’d opened told you he was considering it, then a lowering of his head and shoulders told you he’d resigned himself to it. “That would be nice,” he laughed nervously. “Man, sorry, you must’ve been so freaked out… some weird guy falling through your window. I promise I’m one of the good guys.”

Your mouth twitched into a nervous, wry smile as you beckoned for him to pull out the office chair which sat nestled in the desk at the edge of your bed. Having only gone to sleep an hour or two before after a night of trying to figure out the same damn physics question, your notes and failed attempts were strewn about the light oak desk. It was extra credit, to be fair, but the fact that it’d kicked your ass for four hours straight was enough for the sight of it to be discouraging.

“Mind the mess,” you sniffed, pulling Liv’s barely-used chair over to sit next to the vigilante. He turned his head as one hand went up to tug at a zipper on the back of his suit, just above the base of his neck.

“Looks complicated,” he said slowly, looking more intently as he worked the upper-half of his suit off his body, leaving his mask in-tact.

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, biting your lip to distract from the heat pricking at your cheeks when he revealed his very toned chest and abdomen. “Something isn’t clicking. I’ll have another shot at it tomorrow and- ooh, ouch,” you let out a puff of breath as the five-inch gash was revealed. “Mind if I…?”

He nodded, “It doesn’t feel too deep. I can web it up.”

“Somehow that doesn’t seem sanitary,” you mumbled, shifting your glance upward to give him another wry smile, this one a bit more shy. “Does that stuff come out of you?” He laughed, which made you smile wider and blush as you picked up a cleaning pad and some rubbing alcohol from the kit. “Well, it didn’t seem like a stupid question.”

“No, you’re clearly not stupid,” he tilted his head, and something told you he was smiling behind his mask. Maybe you heard it in his voice.

“This is gonna sting,” you said, saturating the pad. “But judging by the news footage I’ve seen, you’ve got a pretty high pain tolerance.”

“They always show the videos of me getting my ass kick- AH!” He flinched with a sharp intake of breath when you pressed the pad directly onto his cut.

“Or maybe you don’t,” you teased. Which seemed impossible, right? Was this some kind of fever dream? Surely it wasn’t possible for Spider-Man to have accidentally stumbled into an Columbia dorm of all places. “Focus on my physics question,” you joked as you cleaned the wound, trying to assess how deep it was. You searched your brain for the information you’d learned at those first-aid courses, and came to the conclusion that it would probably be okay without proper medical attention. “At the risk of killing the best vigilante in the country, I think a bandage will do,” you looked up at him again, to find him focused on your question. He shifted the papers with his elbow, careful to not get blood on your notes, then you saw him lean in a little more. Taking the chance while he was distracted, you cleaned the wound completely and ripped open two large gauze pads.

“Your rounding isn’t wrong,” he suddenly spoke and you paused, moving your gaze from his gash to his mask. He looked at you for a second and then sighed, nodding back at the paper. “You wrote here, “rounding incorrect decimal?” … nah, that’s not it.”

“But my answer is so close to the one given. It’s only out by a fraction of a whole number. How could it not be a rounding issue?”

“These readings were taken in Antarctica, right?”

“Yeah, so? Centrifugal force on a sphere is-…” Then, it clicked. You let out a frustrated sigh. “Dahammit,” you whined and collapsed back into the chair. “Of course… the Earth isn’t a perfect sphere so it-”

“Centrifugal force isn’t the same around the globe, yeah. Something I’ll need to remember if I ever need to go up and take down Santa.”

“Right,” you scoffed a laugh and shook your head. As you placed the bandages, something occurred to you. He was good at science. He was on campus. He climbed in your window, clearly by accident. He sounded young.

He… could he?

It didn’t seem polite to ask. It didn’t seem like something you had the right to know-

“I gave it away, didn’t I?”

He said it solemnly but he didn’t sound upset. You took your lower lip between your teeth, not quite responding, just sticking the medical tape to his skin.

“Where’s your roommate?”

“She’s never here.”

You ripped off another piece of tape, swallowing thickly. He must go here. Maybe you knew him. Was this going to be a problem?

“Lucky. Mine will be back by now.”

You held your breath as you packed away the stuff. Your hands shook slightly, your nerves getting the best of you as you avoided looking up at his mask. Sensing your unease, he reached out a placed a gentle hand on your forearm.

“Can this stay between us?”

You paused, nodding furiously. “I’m good with secrets.”

“And with first-aid.”

“Sixteen-year-old me was considering med school.”

“What happened?”

“I’m too squeamish.”

He let out a surprised laugh and let go of your arm, and that whole thing kind of broke the tension. You half-grinned as you stood and replaced the kit underneath your bedside table.

“Thank you,” he stood and replaced the suit on himself with some effort.

“Thank you,” you stammered, turning back to him. “My uncle. He, uh, owns a small bodega in Queens. The last three Thanksgivings he tells the family how the heroic Spider-Man saved him from an armed robbery.”

He paused, only for a second, before zipping the suit back up behind him. “I’m glad I could help.” His voice was sincere, if not a bit abashed.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone this story. It’s the least I could do to help someone who’s actually making a difference. And, um, I might have some of my older brother’s clothes I stole if you need to change before going back into your dorm.”

You both stood in silence for a few long moments after you spoke the quiet part out loud.

“I’ve got a pack stashed on the roof.”

“Good,” you nodded, crossing your arms in front of your pyjama top. “I take it you’ll be going out the window considering boys aren’t allowed on this floor after 11pm?”

He hung his head, but you heard a small chuckle, which made you need to suppress a cheeky smile.

“Thanks for the reminder.”

You stood aside as he approached, letting him pass you. He removed the webs from your blinds and switched off your lamp before letting the fabric fling up into its rolled-up position. He crawled out the window and just before he closed it again, he turned to you, that smile evident in his voice, and said:

“I’ll see you around.”

There wasn’t really a hope of easily going back to sleep after that encounter. You actually had half a mind to march yourself down to the medical unit to get checked out, wondering if you’d studied too hard and given yourself hallucinations to make life less math-y.

You managed to catch an hour or two of sleep before your alarm went off, and when you planted your feet on the floor your eye immediately caught the droplets of blood on the carpet. It had happened. Spider-Man had been in your room, you’d patched him up, he said he’d see you around. He practically admitted to being a student here. Which was crazy. Insane. How on earth- why on earth...?

There was too much going on in your brain, too much to process, so you used his helpful hint to distract yourself with scurrying through the final stages of the physics question still strewn across your desk (thankful to see it was free of any bloodstains). Using the hint he’d given you, you cracked it in just under half an hour; just enough time to frantically brush your teeth in the shower, throw on some warm casual clothes, sling your bag over your shoulder and rush out the door as you shuffled the work into a folder as best you could.

If you walked fast you’d make it slightly early, which is how you liked to be, but this time, as you made the trek to your nine a.m. lecture, you found your eyes darting between every tall, slender, male student you saw. He could be any one of them, and everyone around you was none the wiser.

When one guy made eye contact with you, your breath caught in your throat and the immediate feeling searing through your gut was that it had to be him. But when you looked away, then looked back, he‘d turned his attention elsewhere. He looked a bit too tall anyways.

Physically shaking your head and blinking hard before you entered the lecture hall, you took a deep breath in. The second you stepped inside, you released it in overwhelming thankfulness - a sleepy grin came to your cheeks when you saw Dana and Sam sitting in your usual three, Sam beckoning you over with an extra cup on her writing desk. You trudged over, while trying to make it look like you weren’t trudging, but your best friends were too perceptive.

“Holy shit, dude,” Dana laughed, somewhat nervously. “Did you sleep last night?”

“Not really,” you mumbled, sliding in next to Sam, resisting the urge to kiss her passionately in thanks for the coffee she’d brought you, making sure to not accidentally kick the guy at the seat in front of you.

Sam sipped her coffee and raised an eyebrow. “Everything alright? Liv and Remi aren’t fighting, are they?”

“No… no,” you shook your head and wrapped your fingers around the coffee. You’d promised him. “This extra credit question got the better of me and I lost track of time. I figured it out, but I barely slept.”

“I suppose it was a pipe dream to hope that you’d been up late texting someone…” Sam sang, taking a rather sassy sip of her coffee.

“Or, you know, making out with them,” Dana tossed in, opening her laptop as the professor entered the room.

You laughed through your nose as you swallowed your own life-giving sip. “When have I ever given you two even and inch?” You pulled your own laptop out. “I’m not dating in college. End of story.”

“We’ll find you someone you can’t refuse.”

“Please don’t.”

“One date?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you.” The three of you looked down to the brown-haired guy who’d taken the seat directly in front of you. He smiled sheepishly and held out his empty hands. “I kinda forgot a pen. Do you have one I can borrow?”

He was looking directly at you, which made you furrow your brow in question as to why he was only asking you, but you were barely there, so in an automatic movement you reached into the outer pocket of your bag, “Uh, yeah, of course,” you smiled back and handed him a pen. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, but it was more like a little grin, and it lingered for a second or two before the professor cleared his throat and began the class.

As you opened your notes document Sam nudged your elbow with her own. When you looked over, you were met with very enthusiastic wide-eyed friends who were mouthing “HE’S CUTE.” Instead of indulging them in yet another reason as to why they should respect your “No,” you rolled your eyes and turned your attention to the matter at hand: mechanical waves.

It was a gruelling three hour morning lecture slot, thankfully with a fifteen minute break in the middle of it to stretch your legs, refill water bottles, go to the bathroom, perhaps brave a mad dash to the closest coffee cart. Today, however, once the boy who’d borrowed your pen had absconded to do one of those things, Dana and Sam cornered you in your seat before you had much of a chance to stop them.

“He’s so cute,” Sam whispered loudly. “Did you see how he looked at you?!”

“Who doesn’t have a pen?” Dana scoffed excitedly.

Sam cut in, still looking at you. “Everyone has a pen.”

“He wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“Or,” you ducked your head to the side. “He forgot his pen.” Before they could protest you help up a hand and declared you were braving that mad-dash, asking if they wanted anything. They declined, both with stern glares, so you chuckled and rushed out of the room.

The closest coffee cart was only a two minute power-walk, so the trick was beating the rest of the people who had the same idea. The line only had a few people in it by the time you got there, one of them being the boy who borrowed your pen. He was directly in front of you, but didn’t turn to see who’d taken the spot behind him. That was probably for the better, considering your head was so full of equations you doubted your ability to have any kind of social interaction. In no time, he was at the front.

“I’ll have uhhh, double espresso and,” he turned to you. “Whatever she’s having.”

“Oh!” You shook yourself out of an equation. “You don’t have t-”

“Consider it rent for the pen,” he chuckled. “Hurry up, these people need their caffeine.”

“Black,” you blurted out. “Black, no milk, no sugar. Thanks,” you smiled and rubbed your arm self-consciously as the boy paid and thanked the barista for the coffee. He held them both in his hands as he stepped several feet away from the line, forcing you to follow him to receive your drink. You held in a sigh, hoping this very nice boy wasn’t about to ask you out.

“One black coffee,” he smiled, handing it to you.

You slipped the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your palms before taking it. The cups at these places were always too thin. “Thanks, but… you really didn’t have to do that. It’s just a pen.”

When you met his eye, you saw him take a nervous breath in, release it, his face softened but like someone who had to deliver bad news. Something about his demeanour, his voice, his posture - you narrowed your eyes and tilted your head in curiosity.

“Then, uh… consider it an apology for the blood on your carpet.”

The blood in your own body immediately drained from your face, somehow still pounding in your ears, in your throat, even in your hands and feet. Your stomach surged with a sickly anxiousness as your chest heaved and you tried breathing through your nose.

“Hey, hey,” he placed a hand on your shoulder and you flinched, too rooted in your spot to take the backwards step you so desperately internally screamed at your foot to perform. You’d always had a hell of a flight instinct, but a bitch of a freeze response. “Are you okay? Sorry, that’s a lot to drop on you- I’m an idiot- sorry, sorry,” he ducked down to try catching your gaze as you calmed yourself down enough to brave looking up at him again. He had such kind eyes.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” you whispered.

“I know,” he removed his hand from your shoulder. “I heard your friends earlier. Thank you,” he nodded earnestly. “That means a lot.”

“Y-you didn’t have to show me your face.”

“I know, but…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, this is gonna sound so stupid but it sounded so good in my head- I had this idea when I heard your friends talking - which, I wasn’t eavesdropping by the way, or not trying to, it kinda just happens with the whole spider thing - but I heard them giving you a hard time and I just thought-”

“I’m gonna need you to get to the point before I throw up.”

He froze, then let out the remainder of his breath. “Hear me out.” He gestured to you, “You have friends who won’t get off your back about dating,” he started.

Well, there came the blood returning to your face; the superhero knew you were an antisocial dweeb.

He then pointed to himself, “I have a roommate who keeps asking where I go so late at night.”

The second he’d spoken it aloud, it made sense. It made perfect sense. You instantly relaxed, which made him relax. Your head turned to the side in thought, a bit of a mischievous smile coming to your cheeks, despite all odds, and you admitted, “I like where this is going.”

You two shared a look, both fighting the excitement of the potential arrangement. He truly was a hero.

Other students began making their way back to the lecture theatre and so you two walked back together, whispering between yourselves, exchanging names. His name was Peter. Peter trusted you, and he knew he could give you what you needed, and you could give him what he needed. Ultimately, you both needed the same thing:

An alibi.

“I have a plan,” he grabbed your arm just before you two came into the line of sight of the people inside the hall.

“What is it?”

“You’ll see,” he nodded. You gave him a look. “Just- don’t tell them I bought your coffee.”

With that, he slipped past you and into the room. “Peter!” You called after him in a loud whisper, but he was already gone. You gave yourself a moment to laugh at the absurdity of this entire thing, ponder your existence, and make a good case as to why you really should go to the medical wing for a psych evaluation because no way in hell was this happening.

But there he was, sitting at the seat in front of you, twirling the pen expertly. You wondered if he was one of those people who’d looked up how to do the pen tricks in class, or if it was a result of the whole Being Spider-Man Thing.

Just like sleeping the night before, focusing in class was some unobtainable pipe dream. This time you didn’t try forcing it upon yourself, instead giving yourself a gentle reminder that you could always listen to the recording later and it was okay to be kind of freaking out about this.

Peter seemed calm. Far too calm for someone who just revealed their secret identity to someone he’s met literally one time before. He seemed so sure… maybe there was some kind of super-intuition to go along with his powers. God, his powers. How did he get them? How long has he had them? Did he seek them out, or was it an accident? A billion questions raced through your mind, unlike the professor’s voice which went in one ear and out the other, and you couldn’t stop wondering how it all worked and if you’d ever be able to ask him.

Time flew as you zoned out of the teaching and in no time everyone around you was making to pack up their things. Peter stood up and turned to where you were closing your laptop lid. He placed the pen on your table and slid it towards you, leaving his hand on top of it.

“I owe you one,” he smiled.

Your heart pounded as you locked eyes with him, your tongue subconsciously slipping out to wet your nervous lips. “I-it’s just a pen,” you repeated the earlier sentiment.

“Yeah, but,” he shrugged. “Who knows, if I hadn’t taken those notes I might have failed this class and flunked out and ended up in some dead-end job I hate, no hope of happiness in my career or paying off my now-useless student loans…” he let himself trail off. You laughed once through your nose and suppressed a grin as best you could as you reached over and took the end of the pen his hand wasn’t covering.

“So you’re saying I saved your life?”

“You’re a hero,” he smirked knowingly. “The least I could do is buy you a coffee.”

You nodded to the table next to you, “I have a coffee.”

“Dinner, then.”

You laughed from pure surprise, and maybe a little bit from the nearly inaudible squeak you heard leaving Sam’s mouth as she turned away and poorly pretended that she wasn’t listening. Oh, he was good. You narrowed your eyes at him for a few moments before letting your smile turn mischievous and you tugged the pen from his grasp.

“Considering I saved your life… it better be a nice dinner.”

Needless to say, Sam and Dana damn near exploded when you three left the room together. You were grinning, caught in a flurry of fanatical friends declaring how proud they were of you, how cute he was, what were you going to wear?! Did you want Sam’s help doing makeup? She’s really good at it and she wouldn’t make it look too much and-

“Guys,” you laughed, hoisting your bag higher. “It’s no big deal. It’s one dinner.”

“No big deal?!” Dana whisper-shouted. “You just said yes to a date.”

“With a really cute guy!”

“Yeah, and I’m sure it’ll be nice and fun, he seems cool,” you smiled and checked your watch. “I need to get to Bennett’s office hours but I’ll catch you guy later.”

They begrudgingly let you go, walking off together while chatting about lunch.

On your way to Professor Bennett’s office, you tried making those extra credit notes just a little bit tidier, letting your mind wander to this strange arrangement you were about to enter into. How would it work? What would you do together? What do you say to your friends, your family?

All those questions were answered later, around midnight, when there was a noise at your window for the second night in a row. You were sitting on your bed studying, the blind was drawn but there was only one person it could be. You opened your window and Peter crawled in with much more grace than than his previous entrance. He was just in jeans and a zip-up sweatshirt, so the powers must be him and not the suit.

“How’s your cut?” You asked as he drew the blind. He listed his shirt, revealing that toned core once again, and showed you a wound that looked more like a scar at this point.

“Much better,” he dropped it. “Thanks for cleaning it out, I’m not too great at that and it’s a mess when it’s not done right. Sorry you had to do that.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you sniffled a laugh and crossed your arms over your stomach, still finding yourself somewhat tongue-tied in his presence.

Desperate to fill the awkward silence, Peter clicked his tongue, “Should we figure this thing out?”

“Yeah!” You jumped.

“You sure?” He lifted an eyebrow. “You alright?”

“Yeah, good- I’m good,” you assured. “So how do you see this working?” You perched on the edge of your bed, Peter mimicked your movement on Liv’s white comforter.

“You and I say we’re dating. Boyfriend and girlfriend. That way your friends don’t pester you to find someone and, as an added bonus, if you ever want time away from them to study you can say you’re with me,” he said. You nodded in thought. “And my roommate is getting way too suspicious about why I come back so late, so I can say I was with you,” he nodded back.

“Okay, but we also have to sell it,” you cut in. “We can’t just say we’re dating and then never be seen together.”

“Good point. We should probably go on some dates.”

“One meal out in a public visible place each week, and we can do our work in the library together. That’s an easy two-for-one.”

“You’re a huge nerd, aren’t you?”

“That’s no way to talk to your girlfriend,” you playfully shot back. He chuckled, you smiled. Feeling the anxiety alleviate, and the comfort he radiated filling the space between you, your smile was genuine, and weirdly excited. This would work.

And it did work. Really well, in fact.

You went out to your first dinner together the very next evening at a casual restaurant close to campus. There, you covered the basics. Home, families, you were on a scholarship and he was too. He went to a dedicated school for science so when you asked why no MIT he explained he couldn’t bear to leave New York; he had a lot of history here and even though the city had taken much from him, he couldn’t bear to leave. He didn’t elaborate on what that meant, but you got the feeling that, whatever happened, it still hurt him.

Much to your surprise, you felt confident and comfortable enough around him to brave asking how he got his powers. Though as the night went on, and he told you stories, and you keenly listened and asked questions that made him think and laugh and tell more stories, you couldn’t quite believe your luck. Because here was someone you were about to spend a lot of time with, and you genuinely liked him as a person. Thank goodness Spider-Man wasn’t a pompous asshole. That would’ve sucked.

You also took the chance to establish some ground rules and ways for him to work around his roommate. You recounted the tales of Liv and Remi, and you two agreed that if for whatever reason he couldn’t sneak in your window one night, the blind would be closed. Be it that Liv was back or something else was going on, he wasn’t to enter unless it was open.

When it came to the whole “selling it” part of your relationship, you both felt sure enough to be flirty and cozy in public, give each other hugs, he‘d put his arm around you, the very innocent list went on. You would do those study dates in the library, and he’d have to make a bit of effort with your friends and you with his, otherwise they’d resent the other for stealing their friend away.

“Man, this is getting complicated,” you laughed nervously, pulling your coat on as you two walked out of the restaurant. “But I think it’ll work.”

The hopeful disbelief in your voice made Peter laugh, and he threw his arm around your shoulders just as the late-autumn air started nipping at your neck. Seamlessly, you put your arm around him and you two walked across campus keeping each other warm.

That very same night Peter went out on his patrol, and he snuck back in through your window just before three in the morning. He was quiet. It only woke you because it was such an unsettling sound. But those nights started happening frequently and that early hour shift of the pane soon blended into your dreams most evenings.

During your library study dates, or when you were out eating your meals together, Peter would tease you for the way you snored, or the panda pyjamas you loved to wear. Sometimes you’d swat at him, though most times you were able to come up with a remark to shoot right back. He seemed to like that.

You learned a lot about Spider-Man, and a lot about Peter Parker, over the following months.

He was resilient. Even after the occasional night he’d slip into your window and his groan of pain would give his injury away, he’d shrug it off and insist he was fine. Sometimes he let you help. Whenever he did, though, he made sure to break the tension by commenting on the chubby pandas or lamenting that you weren’t wearing them. He’d crack lame jokes until your worry turned to exasperated humour and you were fighting a grin instead of fighting the urge to worry sick over him.

He was insanely smart. The guy went out five or six times a week to keep the city safe, returning home sometimes just before dawn. News story after article after op-ed explained how Spider-Man was cleaning up the streets but privately, Peter Parker was somehow still acing all his classes on three hours sleep and way too much coffee. Or maybe it wasn’t too much - super metabolism and all. Actually… it’s a wonder coffee even worked on him.

He was kind, and a good friend. Those nights you got dinner, or those mornings you got brunch, all to keep up appearances, he’d ask more about you. He wanted to know about your life, your interests and hobbies, what you wanted to do with your intellect. He was encouraging and helpful, and so caring. One night he returned to find you still awake, hunched over your desk, crying from stress. God, you felt so stupid to have him see you like that. But he didn’t make you feel stupid. He didn’t make you feel foolish for being upset over something you couldn’t figure out because he seemed to understand the way you doubted yourself and how much it killed you to feel incapable. It was your own version of powerlessness, and he said he knew all about feeling powerless. Seeing you were embarrassed to be actively crying in front of him, he said: “Put on your pandas. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Ten minutes later, Peter crawled back through your window with a pint of chocolate-chip cookie dough ice cream and two of the tiniest spoons you’d ever seen. The sight of the fluorescent pink plastic spoons made you laugh, and laughing made you cry a little more just from being overwhelmed, but Peter chuckled and pulled you in for a warm hug. When he pulled away, he made fun of you for the panda pyjamas.

Around the time you two celebrated four months of fake dating, some kind of guilt started tugging at your chest. It was something you’d been thinking about for a while and it had never seemed like the right time to say anything about it. Though one Saturday morning, over surprisingly good pancakes in the cafeteria, you noticed a girl from your class and her stare lingering on Peter for a few seconds too long for someone who wasn’t interested. She was beautiful. You’d met her once, in passing really, but she seemed really sweet. Smart, too. Peter didn’t seem to notice her, happily chatting away to you about an armed robbery he’d foiled the night before. Or, you thought he was, but his hand waving to you made you snap back into the moment with small puff of air.

“Sorry, Peter” you sniffed and turned to your pancakes, realising you’d barely touched them.

“I guess you’ve heard one too many stories of heroism lately,” he smiled kindly, albeit sheepishly.

“Not at all,” you smiled. “I like your stories. I‘ve… I’ve just been thinking about this whole thing and…” you sighed and didn’t quite meet his eye.

“Hey,” he reached his hand across the table, not grabbing yours, just enough to pull your focus upwards.

You sighed deeper. “I don’t want to hold you back if there’s someone you actually want to date.” Your gaze turned back to the swirling mess of melted butter and syrup. “You’re a great guy. Anyone here would be lucky to date you a-and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t.”

Peter was silent for several long moments, retracting his hand and sitting back to press himself into the leathery cushions of the booth. When you looked back up at him, he was looking out of the window into the busy courtyard. Even though the snow had just melted, students gathered around tables chatting and laughing over breakfast, blissfully unaware this seemingly-ordinary student had single-handedly stopped a shop-owner from losing a night’s takings, and potentially much more than that.

“I’m, uh-… I’m not ready. For anything like that,” he sniffed, pulling himself away from a memory of someone before looking at his own nearly-empty plate. He averted his eyes and chuckled sadly, “It’s been two yehears but I still… it feels wrong to think about another girl that way.”

You were smart. You could tell this pain was far more than just a bad breakup. This was true loss.

“I’m happy with you,” he finally looked up, eyes noticeably glassy but nothing more than that. “I can be myself around you and there’s no pressure, and it’s fun and it’s so weird that we’re doing this,” he laughed again, and he looked at you, urging his sincerity. “But this is exactly what I need right now.”

You smiled sadly, feeling a little bad for bringing this up, still grateful to know that even in some small way, you truly were helping him too.

The scheme continued to great success. Your friends were happy that you were so happy, they liked Peter - really liked him, and you got some unequivocally blissful, silent study time when you were supposedly with him but he was actually webbing crooks to brick walls and calling the cops on them with their own phones. Peter’s roommate liked you and liked that you kept Peter away from the dorm, giving him the chance to bring whoever he liked over. You giggled abashedly when he’d told you that but he was so confident in his statement that you had to respect the machismo.

There had only been a handful of nights your blind had been closed when Peter came around. One of them you‘d fallen asleep at your desk and forgotten to open it, the other you were holding and comforting a sobbing Liv as she lamented over Remi apparently texting another girl. It was all a misunderstanding, apparently, which was little solace to Peter who had to strip and change on the roof when it was covered in snow.

All in all, you were making it work.

Then, the day came when it all threatened to unravel.

“Peter, nine-one-one, get to my dorm now!” You’d hung up as soon as you‘d made the demand, then tossed your phone down on the bed and paced back and forth across the carpet. His damned bloodstains never fully came out and they were all you could focus on as you took your thumbnail between your teeth, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself. In less than a minute, a breathless Peter burst into your room. You were so used to having him come through the window that you gave a startled yelp when he near-crashed through your door.

“What’s wrong?!” He panted. With one hand ready to shoot a web, his eyes darted around your room to assess it for any threats, only finding a very upset you with your arms folded over your stomach and a worried-sick look on your face. “Hey-hey-hey, what happened?” His battle posture dropped as he took on his own worried look. He shut the door and strode over to you, placing his gentle hands on each of your upper arms.

“The worst thing possible,” you breathed out shakily.

He looked back and forth between your eyes, urging you to continue.

“We have to go on a double date tomorrow night.”

His worry immediately turned into confusion, then into disbelief, then his hands dropped from your arms and he opened his mouth but couldn’t quite find the words - kind of a first for him, in your experience. You started blurting out the chain of events before he had the chance to turn tail and run.

“Dana asked what I was doing tomorrow night and I said hanging with you, obviously, and she asked what we were doing and I stupidly said we didn’t know yet “probably watch a movie” - that’s what I said - and she was like “oh, if you don’t have plans then we should totally go on a double date” and I had no good reason to say no and I panicked and-and-and said yes, and now we have to-”

His hands met your shoulders again, his features hesitant, and it stopped you in your tracks. You panted from the nerves, from the lack of breathing in your retelling. Peter grimaced and lowered his voice to a whisper to tease, “You’re scaring me.”

Your worry turned into a scowl when you saw the amusement behind his eyes. With a small grunt of frustration you shoved his hands off of you and looked out the window.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal,” he said calmly. “It’ll be fine.”

“Fine? Fine?!”

“Oh no-”

“Peter, we know big picture things, family, friends, aspirations, but there’s no way we know enough about each other to convincingly play a couple who’s been together for nearly five months.”

“Then we’ll study,” he declared with a nod.

“Study?”

“I’ll give you a crash-course in Peter Parker, and you can do the same. You and I get along great, we’re comfortable around each other, convincing Mike and Dana we’re in love will be a piece of cake.”

“Well,” you mumbled, “Love is kind of a stretch. It’s only been five months.”

“Oh, trust me,” he grinned, taking steps back towards the door. “If I’d given you the full Peter Parker experience, you’d be head over heels right now.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“Absolutely. Hey, I’ve got class but I’ll be back in two hours,” he opened the door to leave and you opened your mouth to maybe protest, maybe ask him to skip class and start studying now, but he pointed to you with one foot out the door, “The vege sub from that weird little shop you like? No pickles? I’ll bring dinner.” And with that, he was gone.

To distract yourself, and to make good use of the time while Peter learned more Spanish, you started looking up relationship quizzes, get-to-know-you questions, lists of things to ask the other person before you get married - quite literally any content you could get your hands on. Then, you stumbled across the holy grail: an app.

IceBreak was free - it had a few ads but, whatever - and it landed on your phone‘s Home Screen with an icon showing a minimalist ice cube adorned with a small crack. The reviews said it was fantastic - that there were conversation starters for friends, family, new relationships, long-term relationships, roommates, almost every way a human could be connected to another. You were sifting through some of the questions, smiling as your heart lifted, when a knock on the door commanded your attention. You called for Peter to come in, recognising the way he seemed to always knock.

“One vege sub for my beautiful girlfriend,” he charmed with a cocky smile. You fought the urge to stammer and blush, but didn’t fight it very well. Peter‘s smile turned into a grin and a laugh as he closed the door with his foot. “You can’t act like you’ve never heard that before.”

“I know, it’s just… been a while,” you blushed harder and started unwrapping the sandwich. “How was class?”

“Couldn’t tell you, I was dreaming up the new schematics for this,” he bumped his eyebrows and pulled a small device from his backpack. “New and improved web-shooter.”

“Let me see.”

He handed it to you and sat beside you on your bed, both of your backs against the wall. His feet hung well over the other side’s edge, so he didn’t bother taking off his shoes. You’d since changed into a faded long-sleeved shirt and some workout leggings, even though you hadn’t worked out in way too long. You tucked your feet underneath your legs as you sat up and inspected the device. It did look more streamlined than the previous model. You knew better than to test it, knowing there was an unexpected kick Peter was keenly attuned to, so you handed it back to him with an impressed nod. You sucked your teeth and smirked to yourself before saying, “Espero que valga la pena reprobar español.”

He chuckled and winked, “Ya soy fluido.”

You showed him the app and let him focus his eyes on tinkering with the web shooter, picking up minuscule tools from his small tool kit, as you two exchanged answers to all the basic questions people in a relationship would realistically know about each other.

Favourite colour, flower, movie, dream vacation location, would you rather go to the moon or the bottom of the ocean, did you ever want to climb Mount Everest? What did you want to be when you grew up, and did that change? Why did it change? Do you think you’d be good at the job you wanted to do when you were six?

You went back and forth for over an hour, Peter successfully getting his shooter into an acceptable beta model.

“Morning person, or night person... I think we know the answer to that,” you bumped your eyebrows and pressed the NEXT button. One you had, Peter looked up at you with a worn look in his eye.

“I think we’ve studied enough.”

“No, we haven’t.”

“You’re forgetting I’ve got much more on the line here,” he laughed. “They’re not going to quiz us on each other. They won’t know if I don’t know your favourite colour.”

“Yours is green.”

“So is yours, but that’s beside the point.”

“Just a few more,” you pleaded. “For my peace of mind.”

“Five more,” he put the web-shooter down, giving in with a turn of his head against the wall to give you a firm stare.

“Fine,” you sighed and clicked the randomise button on the app. “What was your favourite place to go as a kid?”

“Easy. The skatepark,” Peter shrugged. “You?”

“The museum.”

“Wow. You’ve always been a nerd, haven’t you?” He teased. “Did you collect rock samples too?”

“Next question,” you glared, fighting a smile, settling back beside him so you could look at the phone together. This proved to be a mistake, proven by overwhelming desire you had to press the button again, fib that you’d already had that question, and ignore the new question that’d popped up on the screen.

Where are you most ticklish?

“Oh, uh… I think on my feet? I don’t know, bad guys tend to use knives and guns, not feathers. How ’bout you?” He asked it so casually, and he didn’t even look at you when he asked it. If you had the ability to act cool, calm and collected you may have been able to rationalise that Peter was not considering acting on the knowledge he was seeking, but the lie tumbled through your lips before you had the chance to use that rational part of your brain.

“Umm- I-I’m not,” you cleared your throat, wondering if there was possibly a more obvious way to tell that lie.

“You’re not telling me?”

He turned his head. Oh no. You didn’t return the look. Instead, you shrugged, “No, I’m not ticklish,” you mumbled, swallowed thickly and pressing your thumb against the random button. Peter stayed looking at you, and you could’ve sworn he was smirking in your peripheral vision. “Okay! When did you have your first kiss?” You braved turning to look at him, hoping it looked innocent enough. He didn’t respond right away, instead narrowing his eyes. You nodded to urge him to answer, and he cracked a cheeky grin.

“The summer between eighth and ninth grade. At Camp Riverside in Maine. You’re lying to me.”

“I haven’t even told you about my first kiss.”

He raised his eyebrows, and before you could react his fingers were at your side. You gasped at the contact and shifted to move away before realising he hadn’t made any attempt at tickling you.

“You little liar!” He laughed and a whimper slipped through your lips as he made no moves to take his hand off you. “How are we supposed to convincingly play a loving couple if you won’t be honest with me?” He punctuated his teasing rhetorical question with a dig of his fingers, making you jump and squeak. “Secrets can destroy a relationship, you know,” he said as if he were serious, squeezing your side a few more times as giggles bubbled up from your chest and you shot your hand down to close around his fingers. “I mean, really?” He clicked his tongue, beginning to shift to face you. Your eyes widened and you began stammering.

“Wa-wait, wait, Pete,” you laughed, nerves bringing a blush prickling to your cheeks. “They’re not gonna ahask about thihis,” you sniffled, still trying to push away his hand which had stilled at your side.

He shrugged and sighed deeply, feigning the despair of having no other choice. “But-but what if they do? I mean, we can’t get caught,” with a solemn shake of his head. “And you clearly can’t be trusted to be forthcoming with this information, so I might need to-”

“No, Peheter!” You tried to squirm away as he opted to finish his sentence not with an explanation, but with a demonstration. His other hand found your other side, and they both creeped up for him to lightly dig his fingers into your lowest ribs. Your elbows folded inwards and tried to shove him off as you fell into desperate giggles almost immediately. “NahanonoNO!” You tried turning in on yourself as his attack made your backside slide down from where you’d been sitting up. As much as you tried to press your arms against his hands to dissuade him, to push him off course, he still seemed unbothered by your attempts at self-defence. “PARKER!”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“And youhou- YOU- AHA-” You kicked out and tried to turn onto your front as he brought his hands inwards to claw at the sides of your stomach. Completely involuntarily, you kicked out and caught his shin with your foot. “CUT IT OHOUT!”

He laughed and grabbed above your knee with one hand, squeezing the muscle between his thumb and middle finger, making you shriek and kick out again before his grip closed around your knee and pulled you further from the wall. “If you’d just answered the question I wouldn‘t be forced to extract this information from- woah!” He cut himself off with a laugh when his fingers were vehemently blocked from trying to wedge themselves under one of your arms. He yanked you even closer, your hips nearly over his legs, and got to work on prying your bicep away from your side. “What do we have here, huh?”

“Peter, so help m— AHH NO!” You growled and sent your knee punting into his stomach. He made a small grimace, but your strength wasn’t really something that could hurt him. “Back OFF, Web-Head!” You shouted through nervous giggles, trying your best to keep your arms clamped to your sides. He scoffed and paused his wrestling, giving you a mischievous look.

“Really? You’re gonna get cute with me?” He resumed his fighting, with much more strength than before. You squeaked and shook your head as he pulled you by your wrists to be sitting up. “Right now, you’re gonna get cute with me?!”

“Noho, I- Ihi wohon’t!” You laughed and squirmed nervously, but you were no match for his strength. With another swift tug, he lurched you forwards to be sitting between his legs. With a final yank, he turned you to be caught with your back against his chest, his legs ensnaring yours as he handled your wrists in his grip. “Peteher,” you sniffed, squirming as anxious giggles bubbled through your lips. “Thihis is so unfair!”

Before you could register what was happening, Peter grabbed your left bicep and pulled it away from your side with terrifying ease. Before you had the chance to gasp, squirm, or beg, his other hand shot around your waist, up your ribs and dug wiggling fingers into the soft space of your underarm. You shrieked out in laughter and arched your back away from him, thrashing in his trapping limbs.

“Woah-ho!” He laughed, letting your arm clamp down at your side with his tickling fingers worming deeper against the thin long-sleeved shirt. “Oh man, I’m never gonna let you live this d-”

SMACK!

You didn’t mean to slap him.

It was his fault, really. You tended to get involuntarily violent when tickled, even if you did secretly find the whole ordeal pretty fun and playful. Nevertheless, the open palm that’d met his jaw now covered your own gasping mouth, his hand beneath your arm stilled from the shock of your hit.

“I’m soho sorry,” you apologies through laboured breaths. “I dihidn’t mean to. I- HEY! Peter - NO!”

He, apparently, didn’t accept your apology. Because his right hand abandoned your underarm in favour of grabbing your own right hand, the one that had dared to slap him, and he pinned it to the wall above his shoulder. With widened eyes, you saw him pick up the web-shooter he’d been tinkering with and aim it at the hand he’d stuck above you.

“N-n-no! Don‘t you dare web me!”

Fwip.

“HEY! Get it off!” You yanked on your wrist, now webbed to the wall, gritting your teeth with a frustrated growl to hide the blush creeping into your cheeks. “Peter,” you whined, “Let my hand go.”

“Mmmno. That one’s in time out.”

In an instant, his fingers were lightly skittering at the fabric under your now-exposed arm. The sensation was light, just enough to be damn near unbearable, and your reaction was instant, dramatic, and, apparently to Peter, hilarious. He erupted into laughter alongside your squealing, breathy bursts of loud, shrieking giggles.

When your free hand swiped over at his tickling fingers, he closed around your wrist and held it just enough at bay that you couldn’t interfere with his torment. A growl of frustration resounded through your laughter that was pitching up every second he continued, and he spluttered in his own laughter when he found an especially sensitive spot just above your ribs that made you attempt to fly out from under your imprisonment.

“PETEHEHER!” You squeaked, sliding further down despite yourself, trying to twist away to no avail. “P-PLEHEASE!”

“Please what?” He teased, scratching just two fingers at the centre of your underarm, laughing breathily at how you squealed and tugged against him. “Hey, you never answered the question.”

“IHI’M NOT TELLIHING YOU!”

He paused, fingers still poised to strike. “Why not?”

“Because this’ll get wohorse,” you coughed.

“Oho…” Peter’s smirking laugh made your stomach flip. “Ohoho…” He ducked his head around to look at your blushing cheeks. “I was talking about the first kiss,” panic struck your chest as he lowered his voice to just above a whisper and said, “but now you have me very intrigued.”

“W-wait. No. No Peter, I-”

“I mean, I thought this had to be it,” he scoffed and resumed tickling at your underarm with all five fingers. Cackling laughter burst through your lips, your eyes shutting tight once again as you submitted to your fate. You were stuck, there was no fighting back. That was, until he released your free wrist in favour of hunting down your most ticklish spot. “You gonna tell me?” He teased over your squeaks and cackles. “Seriously, if you don’t tell me, I’m going to have to find it myself,” he sighed sarcastically as you shook your head, indicating even if you had the ability to form sentences right now, no way in hell were giving him that sort of information. “Thankfully… you and I, we’re scientists. We’re good at experiments.”

“PARKER!” You managed to yell, pulling on your legs still trapped in his.

“So, let’s see…” With one hand stilled at your underarm, his other hand clawed into the side of your stomach. You lurched and barked out a laugh, your free hand wrapping around his attacking fingers. No sooner had you done so, he dug his wiggling fingers back in under your arm. You shrieked, burst into belly-laughter, and abandoned his stilled hand to fight off this new attack. “Hmm, interesting,” he mused. There was a shit-eating grin evident in his voice. Then, his plan sunk in: he was going to force your hand to reveal what was most unbearable. And so he did.

When you swatted at the attack under your arm, he turned the side of your ribs into his target. When you squealed and tried to crush your elbow against his hand, he shook his fingers into the same spot on the other side of your body - the one with the arm still stuck above your head. “Very interesting…” He laughed along with you as you twisted in vain, trying to hit at both hands at once. You sniffled and whined through the laughter bursting through your chest, reacting too hard to form a cohesive sentence.

“NAHAHA, I cahan’t- P-PE- NAA!” You tried to dampen your shrieks, but he was too damn good at this. After a particularly hard hit at the fingers drilling into the uppermost ribs exposed by your pinned arm, and a particularly loud shriek, you begged with just his name. “P-Pehehe… Peter!” You gasped, and he backed off.

“Answer the question,” he sang, shifting his fingers down to ready themselves at your sides should you choose to refuse. Despite the fact that he was removing all the air from your lungs, you couldn’t deny the fun of it all. It’s not like you got physical touch all that often, and certainly nothing as playful as this.

Your brief reverie was ended by Peter deciding you’d waited too long to answer, and him declaring this by digging his fingers into the sides of your stomach.

You screeched, hitting your hand at both of his while the laughter was once again forced through you. “I’m gonnaha GEHET YOHOU FOR THIHIS- EEP!” You squeaked, high-pitched giggles weakening you further as he skittered his fingers all around the sensitive patch in the very centre of your belly.

“More threats?” He gasped, taking your free wrist in one hand and pulling it away from where you were interfering with his current target. “Youhou just never learn, do you?” You giggled and squeaked as he made use of his unobstructed movement, alternating between prodding and scratching at the skin. “Now, that’s adorable,” he teased, moving his fingers closer to the centre to ghost along the exposed skin below your navel. Your giggles hitched up and you tugged on both of your trapped wrists, obviously trying to form some kind of words but failing miserably. Sensing this, Peter chuckled and halted. “How about now?”

You took the moment to catch your breath, resigning yourself to the reality that you’d have to disclose your secret to save yourself from him hunting down every ticklish place on your body. “Okay okay okahay...” You coughed. “Youhou… you win. Unweb me, and I’ll tehell you. But you ha-.”

“Shh!” His hand flew to your mouth and you both sat dead still. His head turned towards the hallway, his hyperaware senses alerting him to an impending visitor. “Dana’s coming,” he whispered, reaching up and ripping the webbing from your wrist before shoving it behind his back. “Tell me now or you’re getting it when she’s gone,” he grinned beside your ear as your limp arm toppled to your side.

“I hate you,” you mumbled and sighed, beginning to pull against his legs again. “Around my hip area. Like, if someone squeezes at the sides and stuff,” you admitted, blushing profusely. “Now, let me go before Dana thinks this is something else.”

“Well…” he started, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your waist. Your heart beat in your chest, hearing that cheeky lilt in his tone. “Isn’t that exactly what we need?”

“Peter, no-”

“Peter, yes.”

“Don’t you dare, Parker. I swear I’ll- nahAHA WAHAIT!”

He dug his fingers into your ribcage, attacking the place where your back met your sides with a pinpoint precision, just as there was a knock on the door. He ducked down to whisper, “This’ll sell it,” before he lifted his head and called “Come in!”

“Peheter nohoho, dohon’t lehet- AH!” You squeaked again and collapsed your head against his chest in defeat as he picked up the pace, slowly travelling one hand down your side with every few digs and squeezes. “Dahana hehelp!” You begged, tears of mirth forming above your flushed and grinning cheeks.

“So this is why you weren’t answering my messages,” she playfully glared.

“I-I’m sorry,” Peter sighed sarcastically. “I really am - you know, for distracting her like this, she just- woah, careful there!” He tugged you a little higher, both hands now dangerously close to your hips. “As I was saying… sometimes, when she won’t stop studying, I have to resort to drastic measures to get her to stop.”

Dana raised an amused eyebrow at your demise under Peter’s fingers and rolled her eyes with an endeared smile. “We get it - two are super cute together. Should I come back later?”

“Dohon’t leave me- PETER!” You squeaked louder and gripped at his wrists, trying to push his hands off course to no avail. “Pehete, PLEASE!”

“I’ll come back.”

“DANA!”

“Sorry, Dana,” Peter stopped his hands, allowing you to catch your breath. “It’s the sworn duty of a boyfriend to enact tickle torture in times like this.”

“That’s fair,” she shrugged. You shot her a death glare from behind disheveled hard.

“Okahay,” you panted. “I’ll stop for tonight, just- no mohore… please.” You gulped the air in, chest heaving with the exertion from bearing the brunt of Peter’s playfulness. He turned his head to grin down at you, you looked up at him with a glare that was betrayed by a smile you couldn’t hold back. You couldn’t hold back your blush either, or the way that you weren’t really trying hard to escape his arms.

“Ugh, you guys are sickeningly adorable,” Dana rolled her eyes and went to leave the room. “Seriously, the way you two look at each other… anyway - are we still on for tomorrow night?”

“Yeheah,” you coughed, then grumbled, “If I’m still alive.”

“I’ll keep her in one piece,” Peter promised as Dana grinned and shut the door.

You continued to catch your breath, taking the chance to swat at his leg with your now-freed hand. “Peter!” You scolded. “That was so embarrassing,” you coughed again, and found yourself subconsciously settling into his arms before remembering what you were doing. “Alright, we can stop studying now.” When you tried sitting up, his arm around you didn’t relent. “Peter.”

He lowered his voice to a whisper as he grimaced and said, “I have to try.”

“Huh?”

“The spot, I have to try the spot,” he whispered again and you felt him shrug apologetically.

Your eyes widened, you shook your head, whipping it around to look up at him as you giggled nervously, “No. Peheter you’ve done enough!”

“I-I’m sorry, but it’s necessary and-”

“It is not necessary, you just-”

“I mean, you can’t just tell me about it and then not-”

“You forced me to tell you! Peter!” You continued struggling as he shrugged again and started leaning sideways with you still in his arms. “Peter, plehease,” you pushed at his hands and squeaked when he turned himself to be partially pinning you face-down with his own body. “PETER?!” You held tight to his wrists as he started pulling one away, already giggling hysterically and groaning at the situation you’ve found yourself in. As he pulled his hand away slowly, but with very little effort, you realised there was no stopping him. The best you could do was to ask him to go easy on you. “Okay- OKAY, WAIT!”

He paused with his hand about to strike at your hip, his legs tangling tighter around yours as you squirmed in anticipation. “Yes?” He taunted in a sing-song voice.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “I’ll let you try, but- hey, don’t laugh at me!” You swatted at his shoulder behind you and tried to glower up at him.

“Oh, you’ll let me,” he laughed with a sarcastic edge. “That’s what this is - you calling the shots.”

“You have to let me tickle you too.”

“Sure.”

You hadn’t expected him to agree, which threw you for a loop. Just as you opened your mouth to stammer and come up with some kind of bargain for him to ease his torment, his fingers squeezed harshly around your hip and began digging into the susceptible place next to the bone.

Your face flew straight into the pillow close to your head so you could muffle the volume of your scream of ticklish ferocity. Your whole body flew into fight and flight, tensing and twitching and thrashing against the way Peter had locked you in his arms between him and your bed. After a gasp for air, you fell into silent laughter as you continued to writhe against him and his kneading fingers pressing and wiggling against your hipbone. You spluttered and gasped for air, the laughter trapped in your chest as the tears of mirth spilled over onto the pillow. When he backed off a little, only to flutter his fingers at the space on your stomach just above your hipbone, you pressed your face back into the pillow to muffle some of the boisterous laughter he was drawing from you. Your twitching and spluttering soon overcame your laughter and coherent struggling, so he stopped his tickling and laughed brightly near your ear, giving you a squeeze with his arms before slowly snaking them away from you. He laughed again when he saw how limp you’d gone, making some kind of comment about how dramatic you were, and how he’d gone easy on you.

It took you a solid half-minute to catch your breath and work up the courage to glare up at him. “You’re an ass,” you seethed, gritting your teeth in an effort to hide your smile.

“Ah, but,” he held up a finger with a cheeky smile, “We’ve certainly convinced Dana. Which means… we can stop studying.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself up to sit, propped up on your hands behind you. “Well I’m not gonna argue with you,” you mumbled with a blush before casting a glance to your laptop. “I have some notes I wanna catch up on anyway so-”

He cut you off with a firm hand on the forearm you’d reached towards your computer, and a hesitant shake of his head. “When’s the last time you did something fun?”

“What d‘you mean? I have fun all the time.”

“No, I mean when‘s the last time your Friday night wasn’t spent studying?”

You sighed and looked away, knowing where this was going. “I find it very fun to keep my scholarship,” you said, and you two almost instantly traded unimpressed looks. There was no pretending it wasn’t a lame excuse.

“We’re going out,” he announced, letting go of your arm and standing up from your bed. “Let’s go.”

“Where?!”

“Anywhere but here, or the library, or the cafeteria,” he said with a somewhat worried, exasperated look. “You’re in desperate need of a break.”

You sighed with a scoff, “Peter, come on, I-”

“I’ll be right outside the door,” he stated, pulling his jacket on. “Get changed. If you’re not out there in five minutes, so help me-“ He chuckled incredulously, balling his hands into fists just below his chin before shooting them open for emphasis. “-I will hang you from the ceiling and tickle you so hard.”

Some noise between a scoff, a squeak and a whimper burst through your lips, bringing a grin to Peter’s cheeks. He slid on his beta web-shooter and wiggled his fingers at you before shutting the door to your room and waiting outside.

You silently laughed and shook your head at the ridiculousness of it all, sliding off your bed and replacing your long-sleeved shirt and leggings for some jeans and a nicer crew-neck. As you tied the laces of your shoes, you found yourself smiling, blushing, maybe more grateful for Peter than you ever realised you’d be. Sure, he was convenient, the perfect excuse for studying way too hard, but maybe he was what you needed in more ways than just a fake boyfriend.

You opened the door to your dorm as you slid your other arm into your jacket and snuggled it over your sweatshirt, giving Peter a smile that you wanted to look annoyed and fake, but you were pretty sure it just looked shy and endeared. He smiled back and when you turned around from locking your door he took your hand and laced his fingers through yours.

In a split second, you fought your gasp and your face morphed from surprise into sheepishness. “Right,” you laughed. “Gotta keep up appearances.”

“Yeah. Right,” Peter smiled, softer than before, and nodded. After a few seconds of hesitation, he pulled himself back to the moment and smiled wider. “Let’s go.”

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