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#ticklish!peter parker
berrys-hide-out · 4 months
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Run
A/N; YO! Another fun lil Drabble while I decide on how on earth the next tiny story will play out! I really wanted to do something with a pair I haven’t seen all that often yet and soooo bam Loki and Pete! ✨
Summary; Peter plays a prank on the god of mischief, Loki remembers a little quirk the young hero possesses thanks to an involuntary squeak. Not that either of them really minded
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“Run.”
Peter did not have to get told twice as he immediately stormed off with anticipating and panicked giggles. He wasn’t sure why he decided to play daredevil and prank the god of mischief himself— well actually it was because he was bored. Hella so, with the avengers on a mission and only left behind with Loki who seemed to be engrossed by his books… boredom was inevitable.
Now what did he do you might ask; simple! He filled a bowl with pink glitter and put it at the top of the door and ultimately forgot about it until an hour later when he walked by just as the god fell into his trap.
Did he regret doing this? No. Not at all in fact as he literally snorted at the sight and told FRIDAY to take a picture.
Was he regretting it now? Probably not but his thoughts were running miles as he quickly rushed into the lounge, then the kitchen and around the counter. What would the god do when he caught him?! The avengers weren’t home until midnight! Sure he wouldn’t hurt him but it is the god of mischief after all!
Loki’s grin made goosebumps spread all over his arms and neck and a giddy smile forced its way onto his features. “Y-you know pink fihits you well.” He tried- and failed to choke back the giggle, his hand coming up to cover his mouth half heartedly. It was a sight to behold— the god of mischief hair and outfit full of shiny pink glitter.
Loki shook his head and tutted “tsk, tsk, tsk, you need to learn one thing kid; you don’t play mischief on the god of mischief.”
Peter squeaked and moved around the isle as Loki moved. “Why don’t we drop this and ohorder pizza?” The god grinned “my are we nervous Petey?” The teen gave him a small tiny whine as a reply which ripped a deep chuckle from the god.
Just that made Pete suddenly bolt for the lounge again— only to collide with something strong… or someone as he was suddenly thrown over the gods shoulder and they turned around. The decoy vanished, only further proving that he was on the gods shoulder “WAIT- wait wait NOHonononono! Loki cohome on it was a harmless prank! It’ll wash out I Promihise! UhUHUsing magic is Unfahair!” Peter tried- and failed to flail enough to get out of the gods hold, resulting in him hitting the man’s back.
Loki huffed and adjusted the boy. Peter yelped and his hands shot down Lokis back to prevent himself from falling over, only hearing the god chuckle at his reaction. They continued down the hall…. At least until the god subtly dug a little deeper into Peter’s back thigh and he squeaked out a protest “NOHo! StoHop that!yoHOu’re tickling mEHe!” Peter yelped and kicked out, one hand shooting off of the gods back to try and grapple at Lokis hands.
Loki stopped “this just got a whole lot more amusing.” The playful and mischief in the gods voice made Peter sputter and his escape efforts suddenly spiked- legs kicked out, hands flailed and a long protest of giggly “NO!”’s followed as they made their way back to the lounge. The anticipation made his already heightened sensitivity so so much worse.
“Cohohome on! It was just a lihittle glitter! I’m sorry!” Loki chuckled and threw the boy onto the couch in the empty lounge which he bounced off once or twice and immediately tried to get away “don’t lie to the god of mischief boy, you’re not sorry in the slightest” he warned before his hands latched onto Peter’s sides. It was true— Peter wasn’t sorry the apology just flew out of his mouth.
The girly squeal that emitted from the boy only fed the gods growing soft spot for the boy.
Peter immediately squeezed his eyes shut, turned and started wiggling around, his hands flying down to Lokis to try and catch them without much luck. The god’s hands practically flew through the boys defences, even with the Peter-tingle which only made this so much more fun — I mean worse!
“This’ll teach you not to lie or use mischief against the god of it.” Loki chuckled as he watched Peter’s cheeks heat up “NEhEhehehe IHihe- I wa- ahaHAha WaHas BoHohored!” Peter whined through hysterical giggles.
Loki hummed “I don’t see what makes you think that that qualifies playing tricks on me” he said and slowly moved over the boys stomach enlightened to hear his giggles become bubbly and childlike “now this is just sweet~” the god cooed.
Peter’s struggling lessened a little and his blush deepened. “nOHohoHO ihIHIhihi— Ihits NOhOhohot! AHAHA- LOHOKI!” Peter suddenly screeched when one of Lokis hands caught one of the flailing ankles and trailed a few scribbling fingers up his sole.
Peters enhanced strength proved to be helpful enough to yank his foot back but the attack to his hips made him recoil and shake his head, hands finally latching onto the offending fingers that drilled into the hipbones on both sides simultaneously.
“NAHAA! THiHIHis iHIs UnFaHAH- uNFahAHAir!” Loki chuckled “actually this is plenty fair.. this however..” Peter gasped when one of his hands was suddenly held up above his head and the second hand hovered just above his outstretched ribs and armpit.
“This is unfair.” The god grinned darkly. Peter spluttered and the ongoing giggles stopped him from forming a coherent word— a sentence right now was impossible.
“Are you regretting having pulled a trick on the god of mischief?”
An out. If he really wanted to he could’ve had this dropped now but at this point Peter was having way too much fun with the god and shook his head with a wobbly grin and an overall giddy expression.
Loki shook his head at the playfulness the Midgardian child had. He also wasn’t quite sure where all of that energy came from but he was more than happy to let their little game continue for awhile. “Wrong answer~”
Peter squeaked and practically jumped when Lokis hand faked out.
The boy opened one eye then the other. Loki grinned down at him, emitting a low giggly whine from the teen. “See.. I’m starting to think you enjoy this” he said and traced along the boys ribs. Gently enough not to dig in but definitely rough enough to get a sweet reaction out of the kid.
Peter giggled hysterically and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to cover his burning face as he shook it ‘no’. Though at this point his face wasn’t the only part that shimmered in a light crimson. His ears and neck joined his blistering cheeks beautifully.
Loki grinned “if you close your eyes you won’t see the attack Petey” that got him back the boys attention. The anticipating gleam in the boys eyes, the disheveled hair, the bright red hue that covered him it was a sight practically to coo over but Loki needed to prove a point and so scribbled over the boys armpit. He needed a good reaction, as far as the avengers Mission-times go they were never exactly accurate— but ho boy did he get a reaction when his fingers hit the skin.
Peter snorted, threw his head back with loud and boisterous cackles while his legs kicked out. Loki’s fingers drove the poor kid up the wall, somehow he knew exactly what spot and technique would get the kid to wither under his touch
“NAHAHA! IHIHI’M SAHA- SHOHORRYHEHEE! LOHOHOHKIHEHE- HEEE!”
With a chortle Loki let up and instead moved to tracing the kids belly “so what are you sorry for?” “Fohor pranking thehe god of mischiehehef!”
Loki hummed and squeezed his thigh where it had more or less all begun “and?” “LYHYING!” Peter squeaked out. “Lying what Pete?” The god grinned cheekily. “Don’t liehe to the god of mischief!”
Loki hummed happily “glad you came around.” He said and Peter chuckled, curling up to face the couch cushions.
“Naw don’t go hiding on me now” Peter’s squeaky giggles escaped his mouth quicker then he could cover it when the god scribbled over his back. He didn’t even know his back was ticklish!
The boy quickly turned back around and was about to say something before-
“Pete has a ticklish back?!” Came from the doorway making both, spider-child and the God of Mischief look up in utter bewilderment.
In the doorway, Sam, Bucky and Tony.
They didn’t even hear them come in.
“I’m so using that next time.” Tony chuckled. Peter whined “mister staaahaaark!” Loki gave a low chuckle. “And someone’s gone soft” Tony continued making the god flush bright red “he just needed an attitude adjustment and I happened to find out a rather interesting fact about our spider” He said and eyed Peter who immediately started giggling his little heart out.
“You should probably wash out the glitter before it gets everywhere.” The captain said as they walked in.
Peter chuckled. “I got him good though” he said before noticing the warning and menacing grin that spread on Loki’s features.
The boy squeaked and rushed out, incoherent words spilling all over the place with giggles prepped in. Probably leaving a trail of “nohooo”‘s and “I’m sorry”’s
Loki chuckled and shook his head.
The boy really has a weird thing for getting in trouble.
“You too reindeer games” Tony called from the kitchen which earned an eye roll. But Loki didn’t protest any further. The glitter had to leave.
Once out of earshot Tony grinned “FRI!”
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tickle-bugs · 1 year
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Lil idea for the 3 Peter Parkers!
Peter 1, the youngest, often gets snarky with the older two "brothers". They both eventually decide theyve had enough of his jabs about their age, and team up on him, working together to tickle him to bits and teach him to respect his elders
Attitude Adjustment
Okay so if you’re like me and literally can’t keep the numbers straight: peter one (referred to just as Peter here) is tom holland’s spidey, peter two is tobey maguire’s, and peter three is andrew garfield’s. I felt SO silly writing in the numbers but there really is no other way LOL
Also, au where they’re in sort of a Spiderverse situation and the other spideys are trying to figure out how to get back to their dimensions. Absolutely no canon, just vibes. 
“Hey Pete? How do you work this thing?” Peter Two huffs and flails his hands around through the holographic energy core in front of him. It spins listlessly, unsure how to interpret his gestures, and beeps at him. 
“Comin’.” Peter rolls off the couch, chucking his phone onto the rickety coffee table. His new place was small, achingly so, but it was starting to come together nicely. He had pictures on the walls, a rug on the worst spot of the floor, and a bedframe. All progress was good progress. 
“Show me how you’re doing it?” Peter squishes beside Two, who sort of swats at the hologram like an irritating bug. 
“Oh, okay. So, uh, the hologram maps its movements according to your fingertips. If it can’t get a good read, it’s not gonna respond. Here, like this.” Peter pulls his hands into the projected image, twitching his fingertips and twirling his wrists. The simulated core spins and zooms at his whim. Eventually, the image flashes green, and a small loading bar picks up at the bottom. 
“Neat.” Peter Two watches in awe as the computer begins to synthesize his formula. He idly spins the image around. “We didn’t have anything like this growing up. It’s crazy.”
“Glad I could help, grandpa.” Peter grins, giving Two’s shoulder a good-natured squeeze. Two rolls his eyes and shoos him away. 
“What a nice young man, helping the elderly,” Peter Three hums from the ceiling, typing away at his laptop as if his life depends on it. He looks a bit like a goblin, or maybe a vampire, hunched over all of them. 
“I do my part.” Peter salutes, flips back over the couch, and pulls his phone back into his hand with a web. He’d lost his place in the Fantastic Four interview he was reading. He sighs. 
“You both are hilarious,” Peter Two grumbles, watching a holographic array of complex mathematics spin in front of him. 
Peter sinks down into the couch, into the quiet buzz of technology and Peter Three’s terrifying typing. It’s not silence, not quite, but it still gnaws into his bones in a way he doesn’t like. He’s been avoiding being Peter as much as he can lately, instead staying out on patrol as late as his body can handle. Collapsing on a rooftop as Spider-Man is easier than coming back to Peter Parker’s shithole apartment. 
Spending time with people like him, people who get it, it’s…nice. Steadying. He knows it’s going to crush him when they leave, but having them now is more than he could ever ask for. He has no one, but he has them. 
“Hey.” Peter leans over the back of the couch and waves at Three. “Need help?”
“Hm? No, I’m good. Still compiling that list of compatible metals. Hoping to keep this matter projector the size of a rubix cube. Or, worst case scenario, like a suitcase.” Peter Three gnaws at his lip, then squints at his screen. He flings out a web and snags his glasses, catching them out of midair. He puts them on with care, pinning the laptop to his upside-down lap with his free hand. After fiddling with the lenses, he gets them to balance properly. 
“You’re still squinting.” Peter chuckles. 
“It’s part of the creative process.” Three waves an idle hand, then squints more aggressively. “I, uh--I’ve got shit eyesight. It’s fine.”
“The spider bite didn’t fix your vision?” Peter furrows his brow. 
“It did, but I wrecked it again. Too much blue light, too many flashbangs to the face--it all takes a toll, y’know? You should be grateful your eyes still work. Take care of them while you have them.” Peter Three nods sagely. He grabs his mug of long-cold coffee with a web and brings it carefully to his hands. He sips, gags, then comes back for more. 
“Okay, dad.” Peter huffs with no venom. He tries not to be jealous that Three can drink upside down. He’s tried. Repeatedly. 
“You have a remarkable amount of attitude for someone so tiny.” Three stares at him over the rim of his glasses, which shouldn’t be as funny as it is. Peter snorts. 
“Right? It’s his tone,” Peter Two hums. The computer chirps at him that his equation is only sixty percent viable, would you like to try again? He thunks his head into the desk. Three’s mug slowly lowers itself down beside him. Two takes a sip, gags, and deposits the mug in the sink. Three balls up a piece of paper and throws it at his head. 
“Alright, I’m starting to go a little stir crazy. How about we take a break?” Peter Two stretches, popping something in his back. He does the ‘keys, wallet, phone’ patdown on himself, turning in circles to make sure he’s set. 
“Like a patrol break?” Peter perks up. 
“No, a dinner break. I’m starving, and God knows when you two last ate. Or slept.” Two hazards a glance towards Three. 
“Oh, I’m good. Go without me.” Peter Three keeps typing. Two’s glare chills the room a few degrees. He pointedly clears his throat. 
“Y’know what, actually? A break sounds great. Super on board with the, uh, the break time.” Peter Three closes his laptop and flips down off the ceiling. He stumbles as he lands, hissing in pain. The laptop goes flying, but Peter just manages to snag it with a web. He cradles it to his chest. 
“Thanks.” Three nods. Peter nods back. The room collectively sighs in relief. 
“Is it your, uh--” Two maneuvers to support Three as best he can. They limp over to the corner of the kitchen together. 
“My back, yeah. Shitshitshit.” Peter Three inhales tightly and leans up against the counter. He tips his head back against the cabinets and focuses on breathing. 
“It just, uh--well, it locks up sometimes. No clue why.” Three shrugs, then winces. 
“I think I have some painkillers. If it’ll help.” Peter sets the laptop down. Three smiles thinly at him. 
“I’ll take you up on that. I’m usually fine after a few minutes. Just gotta wait it out.” Three winces again, gripping the countertop hard. The cheap vinyl cracks with the force of it. Peter tries not to wonder if he’ll have to pay for that--instead, he fishes out the pitifully empty bottle from his coffin-sized bathroom. 
“Gimme your hands.” Peter Two crowds in front of Three and starts helping him stretch, slow and steady. After a heart-wrenching cry of pain, Three hums appreciatively. He twists side to side, working out as many sore spots as he can. Peter shakes the bottle at him and tosses it. He catches it and dry swallows the pills. 
“Hm.” Peter leans against the wall. 
“What?” Two huffs.
“Nothing.” Peter shakes his head with a smile. Fondness blooms warm in his chest. May used to tell him that he’s the only person who knows how to take care of himself best, what he needs. He wonders if she ever thought it would manifest this way. 
“Alright, c’mon. What old man joke are you sitting on right now?” Two crosses his arms. His amusement is contagious. 
“I wasn’t going to make fun of you!” Peter laughs.
“One day you’re gonna be a twenty-something with a bad back. You’re gonna be like ‘oh wise and mysterious Peter, please help me with my ailing spine’. Then you’ll get it.” Three grunts. He loudly cracks something in his back and all of them wince. 
“What am I gonna do? Do a backbend over your walker?” Peter snickers. Three gasps and splutters, sending both of them into actual laughter. They’re terrible influences on each other. 
“You are such a brat.” Two chuckles, mostly in disbelief. Peter sticks his tongue out at him. 
“Were you like this?” Two jerks a thumb toward Peter. Three quirks a smile and regards Peter for a bit--the defiant jut of his chin and the fire in his eyes are heartwarming. 
“I mean…yeah. Kinda. Just tall.” Three smirks.
“I’m not short.” Peter scoffs. Two and Three exchange a glance. Three leans on Peter’s head. Peter swats his arm away. 
“You’re barely taller than me!” Peter huffs, throwing his hands in the air. 
“First step is acceptance, buddy.” Two pats his shoulder. “Let’s get our shawarma on.”
Peter Three stifles his laughter into his fist, squinting in mirth through crooked glasses. Peter groans, smacking his face into his palm. He’s hiding a smile, though, and it makes Two smile in turn. 
“What?”
“Let’s get our shawarma on?” Peter snickers, his shoulders shaking. 
“Yeah, I can’t defend you. That was corny.” Three leans into Peter and soon they’re both giggling, set off by each other’s goofiness. 
“You sound like a dad!” Peter giggles. 
“Scratch that. We’re not going anywhere until we cure you of this attitude.” Two raises an eyebrow. Peter giggles at him which, while adorable, Two cannot stand for. 
“You gonna send me to my room? Ground me? Oooh, I’m so scared--” Peter snorts, then he’s upside down. Peter Two’s got him around the waist like a sack of potatoes. He lets out an affronted squeak and tries to reach for the floor. 
“Whatareyoudoing--” All the breath leaves Peter in a hefty woosh as Two worms his fingers into his sides. He squeals, his legs flailing wildly. He tries to pry Two’s hands away but gravity isn’t his friend at the moment. 
“Spider deterrent,” Two says, deathly serious, but Peter can hear him smiling. Bastard. 
“Nononohoho! Tickling is cheating!” Peter cackles, all hope of playing tough long gone with his breath. No matter which way he tilts, Two’s fingers are waiting to torment him--and he seems to have quickly figured out just how deathly ticklish his stomach is. Almost like he knew already. 
“I didn’t know there were rules--” Peter Two ducks out of the way of an accidental kick-- “Hey! Violence is not the answer!”
“Gonna v-violence your stuhupid fahahace! Lemme go!” Peter growls, prying at Two’s wrists again. Two tuts at him and vibrates his fingers into Peter’s stomach. He shrieks and kicks his legs, all pent-up energy with nowhere to go. 
“Aren’t you gonna help?” Peter gasps at Three, his voice way higher pitched than he’d like. His face is redder than his suit, little giggles still slipping free. He’s (mostly) deathly serious about murdering Two if he can just get out of this. 
“Yeah, come help!” Two grins, beckoning Three over with a tilt of the head. Peter Three disappears out of Peter’s line of sight and he allows himself an evil grin. 
“We’re gonna kick your--” Peter loses the last half of his threat to a yelp, then frenetic giggling as Three claws at his ribs. Peter screeches in betrayal and tries to swat at him, but he’s far from coordinated and it tickles, oh my god--
“Sorry. More afraid of him than I am of you.” Peter Three grins sheepishly, but his eyes shine with mischief. He walks his fingers up under Peter’s arms and he screeches loud enough to make a dog down the hall start barking. He lets out a snort and desperate syllables tumble out to follow. He manages to elbow Two in the gut and nearly gets dropped on his head for the trouble.
“S-Sorry! Tickles!” Peter hiccups and clamps his arms to his sides. 
“You are so squirmy!” Two tosses him over the back of the shitty couch. Peter squeals at the sudden change in gravity, but then he’s squealing because they both follow him over the couch. 
“I-I’m gonna get a noise complaint! Guys!” Peter throws his head back against the armrest and cackles, shoving at the two of them. He’s not sure where the ceiling is anymore, everything’s sort of spinning, but the slight burn in his chest is grounding. 
“Alright, alright.” Two lays off and Three follows suit. Peter flings his arm over his face and tries to remember the sweet embrace of oxygen.
“Oho man. You guys suck.” Peter peeks at them with a goofy smile. 
“Spider deterrent. Works like a charm.” Two puts his hands on his hips. Three leans up behind him and goes to poke his side, but Two catches his hand. 
“Don’t. Do not.” Two points at Three threateningly. Three holds his hands up in surrender, but his grin is anything but innocent. He and Peter lock eyes.
“Spider deterrent, huh?” Peter leans up on his elbows with a cocky grin. “Every experiment needs multiple trials, right?”
“You’re both menaces.” Two grapples with Three, occasionally twitching but still putting up a fight. Peter manages to poke him a few times and get his arm caught, but Two can’t fight both of them.
A hush befalls the room as Peter Two visibly weighs his options, trying not to crack from Three’s pinching at his ribs. 
Two throws himself over the couch, followed by Three, and Peter eggs them on from the safety of the couch. It’s like watching cats wrestle, really--there’s an indistinguishable tangle of limbs and shouting before Peter Three’s shocked cackle emerges from the pile. 
“P-Peter! Help!” Three wheezes, holding his hand out for rescue.
“Oh, you want my help? Yeah, sure, I’ll help.” Peter cackles evilly, kicking off the couch and launching himself at Three.
“Wait, hold on--”
“98 percent viable. We did it,” Peter Two breathes, holding the hologram in his hands. The simulated core spins lazily. After hours of calibration and recalibration, the algorithm finally holds steady. Three squeezes his shoulder and laughs quietly, happily. They’re going home. 
“Should we tell him?” Three casts a glance over to the couch. Peter’s out cold, curled up under a threadbare blanket that refuses to let go of its musty smell. Despite the bags under his eyes, he looks peaceful. 
“Tomorrow. You both still owe me shawarma.” Two smiles, knocking their shoulders together. 
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“your laugh is my favourite sound in the world.” with lee!peter ?
Tumblr media
"Your laugh is my favorite sound in the world."
"Youhouhou ahahare suhuhUHUCH aha lihiahar!" The giggling man on the rug beside you had covered his face with his hands, refusing to entertain the idea that you meant what you said. In truth, the compliment was astronomically flustering to hear, especially coming from someone he cared for so strongly.
"I will tickle you into believing me, Pete!"
A loud yelp, followed by high pitched wheezy laughter, echoed in the apartment the second you massaged your thumbs into his hips. "DAHAHAMN IHIHIT! BUHUHUGS! YOUHOU CAHAHAHAN'T JUHUHUST GOHOHO FOR AHAHA WEHEHEHEAK SPOHOHOT!" You let up momentarily, only to lean closer and ask him a single question.
"Still think I'm lying about your adorable laugh, giggly spider-boy~?" Considering that the only reason he challenged your statement was to provoke you into tickling him more, despite his reddened cheeks, he slowly peeked at you through the spaces between his fingers.
"You are the biggest liar on the face of the planet."
"Ohhh, you are IN FOR IT, PARKER!" Peter knew he was done for as soon as you began to flutter your fingers closer to the back of his neck. It's not like he hadn't been sassy on purpose.
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Lee!Peter is a cinnamon roll and I wanna make him giggle 😭💕 Thank you for the brainrot AGHSJSJD /p
There will be some full length oneshots of lee!Peter 3 in the future 🖤
~ Ushu ❤️
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anasticklefics · 2 years
Text
For Science
Fandom: Spider-Man: No Way Home
Characters: Peter x3
Summary: The three Peters are talking about how much the spider bite changed them, and Peter admits it made him more ticklish.
A/N: Prompted by @allylin05 SO LONG AGO. I hope you like it!
Peter: Tom
Peter 2: Tobey
Peter 3: Andrew
Words: 900
“Did the bite change anything for you?” Peter asked, the three of them on his favorite rooftop after everything had been fixed and saved and salvaged. “More than the strength and stuff, I mean.”
“Oh, totally,” Peter 3 said. “It made my eyesight so much better. And my hearing? It’s nearly flawless, it’s amazing.”
“It fixed my eyesight too,” Peter 2 said. “Things also taste different now. That one was a bit annoying.”
“Really?” Peter let out a laugh. “I guess it fixed my hearing, but I didn’t really have any problems with it beforehand. It just made me hear impossible things now.”
“That makes sense.”
“It also made me, like, ten times as ticklish.”
“Really?” Peter 2 tilted his head. “It didn’t do that to me.”
Peter 3 shook his head. “Me neither.”
“Oh.” Peter felt his face heat up, something the bite hadn’t been able to stop from happening. “Well, forget I said something.”
“No, wait, this is interesting.” Peter 2 straightened where he was sitting against the wall. “We seem to share most things, but not all. Why’s that?”
The rooftop was chilly, the sun having hidden behind the city and the wind having replaced its presence. They’d been refusing to move, finding peace in Peter’s haven, but he suddenly felt a timidness wash over him that he hadn’t felt in a while, and the secludedness of the place didn’t help. It felt intimate, in a way; something you shared with friends. The other Peters were definitely his friends, but he was reminded of how little they actually knew about each other.
He tried to keep his gaze at them, but the way Peter 3’s lips curved upward, the way Peter 2 was still observing him as if he was the most interesting thing in the world, made his courage fail him and he had to avert his gaze.
They didn’t know what he liked. They weren’t Ned or MJ, who would know to not tease him without actually tickling him. This was worse. This was innocence and curiosity mixed together, and Peter wasn’t sure his face wouldn’t give him away.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Up until now I didn’t know other Spider-Men existed.”
“Fair enough.”
“Wait, wait,” Peter 3 suddenly said. “How ticklish were you before?”
“Uh.”
“Oh, you’re blushing.” His grin when Peter looked back, so easy to coax out of him, made an appearance. “That’s cute, but that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I can’t help it,” Peter groaned, covering his face as Peter 3 laughed.
“I take it that you were quite ticklish,” Peter 2 said. “That could explain it.”
“Wait, how ticklish is ten times as ticklish?”
“Please stop.” Peter held up his hands. “Or I’m going to literally die right here.”
“That’d be a bit annoying, wouldn’t it?” But Peter 3 leaned back, a visible retreat. “I’ll make sure to add that to my list of what I know of you. Number three: don’t tease Peter about how ticklish he is.”
“What are the other two?” Peter 2 asked, so casual about all of this that Peter felt dizzy.
“Well, number one is that he’s apparently also Peter Parker.” Peter 3’s grin melted into a smirk. “And number two is that he’s apparently very ticklish.”
“Oh, come on.”
“I feel like number four should be what your proper laugh sounds like.”
Peter didn’t move even when they both scooted closer to him, sitting cross-legged on both of his sides. “Please forget I said anything.”
“Oh, but this is a scientific experiment,” Peter 3 said. “We gotta find out why you’re apparently ten times as ticklish.”
“I just have a question,” Peter 2 said. “How often do you get tickled to find this out in the first place?”
“Uh.”
“Often?”
Peter covered his face again. “Quite often I guess.”
“Okay, that’s all I needed to know. You know, for science.”
Peter 3 grabbed his knee. “For science,” he said and squeezed.
It was all a bit of a blur after that.
Peter’s laughter was quick to pour out of his mouth. That much he knew. At some point he fell to the side and Peter 2’s surprisingly nimble fingers decided to attack his lower back, which made him squeal. Peter 3 wouldn’t let that sound go, once they were done with him.
But before that there was Peter squirming without getting away, his knees rising without breaking the cross-legged position, and his hands flailing without protecting him much. He could hear the other two cooing, laughing, maybe teasing, between his giggles, and while he knew he would never live this down he also kind of enjoyed it all the same.
“It’s safe to say we should keep this a secret from bad guys,” Peter 2 said once they’d let him breathe freely again, grinning down at his curled up body on the roof. “And try to keep you from getting another spider bite because I’m not sure your body would handle getting more sensitive.”
Peter groaned. “Please stop.”
Peter 3 poked his leg. “Hey, at least I can add a fifth thing to my list now. Doesn’t fight back.”
Peter sighed and rolled over onto his back. It was nearly entirely dark now, the sky littered with stars. His only witnesses. “I’m not gonna say it.”
Peter 3 ruffled his hair while Peter 2 chuckled. “And you don’t have to.”
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nhasablogg · 2 years
Text
Tickletober Day 23 - Spidering
Fandom: MCU
Characters: Peter 1, Peter 2, Peter 3
Words: 338
[Tickletober prompts]
You could spot their age difference not only from their appearances, but in the ways the three of them loved.
Peter 3 had an older brother type of fondness. An I have seen the world and there is nothing to do but to love anyway type of love. He showed it in the way he smiled at them, patient, caring, seeing nothing but potential in their younger faces and hoping to god the world wouldn’t hurt them more than it had.
“It’s okay,” he would say, nodding at them when they were frustrated, wishing things were easier, or that they were better. “Breathe,” he would say. “You’ve got so much in you.”
Peter 2 was physically affectionate in his love. All reassuring hands on shoulders, knees knocking together, playful pokes to sides and ribs. He showed his love by wrapping them in his arms and clinging to them in a way that showed he needed this just as much as they do.
“Ah, you’re ticklish,” he would say, delighted even though he’d been spidering his fingers up their spines and arms before and had known what their reactions had meant. “That’s cute,” he would say, worming his hands into sensitive spots and laughing along as they squirmed, pulling them close when he was done to feel their giddy joy vibrate through his bones.
Peter 1 showed his love by seeking their approval, all eagerness as he looked up at them, smiling hopefully in a way that broke their hearts. He showed love by trying to always be helpful, not always realizing that he could ask them for help too.
“Does that make sense?” he would ask, eyes wide as he looked at them, not realizing he was the smartest person they’d ever met. “I mean, we could do it your way if you think this plan sucks,” he would say, and they would wrap him in their approving compliments, feeling flattered that he cared so much about what they thought to pretend as if his plan wasn’t spotless.
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inneedofsupervision · 17 days
Text
So, you got Detention
@berrys-hide-out Hey Berry, I hope reading this cheers you up a little, hope you like it <3. @cantsaythetword I didn't forget to tag you, here you go :)
Summary: Getting detention sucks. Getting detention for something you haven't done sucks even more. Getting detention and getting scolded through a Captain America PSA for something you haven't done and going home to have said man looking at you disappointedly is the bad-tasting cheery on top that Peter didn't need on this absolute disaster of a Monday. At least he gets the satisfaction of telling the rest of the team about Cap's PSAs. That's going to be fun.
Read on Ao3
"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you," sings Peter softly before his face turns into a grimace. "I'm never getting this song out of my head now. Thanks for that, Ned," mutters the teen without any bite, stepping out of the subway station. Despite Rick Astley uninvitedly declaring his love inside Peter's head, his lip twitched upwards for the first time today. He was glad to be finally heading to the Avengers Tower. Peter was ready to lock himself into the lab with Mr. Stark and ask the man what they would work on today. Him needing to bring distance between himself and the rest of the world doesn't come off as much of a surprise, taking into account that today had sucked until now. Immensely. At least in Mr. Stark's lab, nothing could get on his nerves, breaking the continuation of a bleak day. 
It began with oversleeping. 
The shrill sound of the alarm had cruelly torn Peter out of a dreamless slumber, and with a soft moan, the still sleep-drunk teen had aimlessly patted for the clock to end the obnoxious sound. As soon as silence had fallen over the bedroom, Peter's eyelids dropped, and although telling himself that it would just be five more minutes of lying down, he promptly fell asleep again. If Spiderman had stuck to his curfew and not exploited his aunt working overtime, there might be a chance getting to school late could have been avoided. When Peter woke the second time, tiredly checking his mobile phone, he sprung up in shock as he caught the time. Twenty minutes before the bell would ring. With no time for breakfast, he had washed up as quickly as he could, shoved the next best sweater and jeans he could find into his backpack, and sprinted out of the apartment. Peter usually avoided swinging to school, but drastic times called for drastic measures. He just hoped there wouldn't be any posts or articles of people wondering what Spiderman was doing, swinging this early in the morning cause that always prompted a rather unwelcome interview with Mr. Stark, or worse, Aunt May. 
In his hurry to get to school on time, the boy had packed the wrong folder, thus having to scribble the history homework onto a paper two minutes before classes started. MJ had caught him sitting on the floor before the classroom, rushing to copy Ned's answers as if his life depended on it. She had pulled up an eyebrow before rolling her eyes. The girl didn't have to say anything for Peter's ears to grow red, embarrassed to look this unprepared in front of their decathlon team captain. Classes were relatively uneventful. Well, apart from the Spanish vocabulary test that Peter might have forgotten. Luckily, he could answer everything, although the boy was sure he spelled at least two words wrong. At lunch, Peter had felt the aftereffect of not eating breakfast as his stomach was rebelling, threatening to start eating itself from the sounds of it. The teen swore he could eat at least three portions until he had seen what they served today. To clarify, Peter isn't a picky eater. At all. Living years with Aunt Mays cocking trained him into trying everything deemed edible, and the hunger did the rest. But today, out of all days, the cafeteria ladies decided to let their presumable hate for the students show in the manifestation of the most disgusting-looking meatballs the boy had ever seen.
"Are those capers?" 
Ned had glanced from his fork, where a with sauce dripping green ball of something pierced on, over to Peter, who, in return, squinted down onto his plate. He pushed the greens covered in watered-down sauce with his fork around before looking at his best friend with a frown.
"Could be. But to be honest, I don't really wanna find out."
The food had tasted just as it looked, and Peter was glad he was enhanced because he was sure if that weren't the case, he would have gotten food poisoning. How Ned got the funny-tasting excuses for a meal down was still a mystery to him. Having no money to buy something else to eat and knowing that his metabolism wouldn't let him go on without eating, Peter hadn't had much of a choice other than to force the stuff down his throat. 
"If I don't show up to school tomorrow, you know what has happened to me," Ned had said with a slightly pained expression as he pushed his empty plate away to put a safety distance between himself and his lunch.
"Same," agreed Peter as he stood up. He had thrown a look at the leftovers, suppressing a shudder as he collected the food tray. They quickly left the cafeteria and the traumatic lunch experience the place brought with it behind. On their way to biology class, Peter had hope that this was the point where his day would finally turn, where it would start getting better. But of course, no day at school could end without Flash strutting up to them, holding onto the need to be insufferable. Flash had been making a beeline for Peter. The intent to bump his shoulder into Peter had been painfully obvious. Flash's nearing presence had sent Peter's spider-sense off, and it took the vigilante some willpower to let the impact happen. 
"What, not apologizing for blocking the hall with your stupid face, Parker?"
Not wanting the situation to escalate, Peter tried to overlook the provocation. He wasn't looking forward to a confrontation, minding his business and continuing walking away when Ned whispered. "Don't mind him. Flash probably ate one too many of those meatballs and now feels like crap." Peter was aware that his friend only meant to lighten up the mood. He couldn't help heaving a sigh when their classmate turned around with an icy glare. "What did you say about me, Fatty?" 
Apparently, Neds whispering had not been as quiet as intended. Flash had snarled, hand reaching out to grab Ned's collar but grasped at nothing as Peter anticipated the action and pulled his friend out of reach. He had shoved himself between the two and tried to calm Flash down when the teen grabbed his arm roughly, pulling him closer. 
"Listen, Parker, one more word from your friend and I-" The rest of his threat had gotten cut off by the booming voice of Mrs. Warren echoing through the hallway, causing the students standing near her to jump at the sound.
"Parker, Thompson! Detention!"
"Fuck you, Parker."
With a glare, Flash had let go of him and stomped away under the watchful eye of Mrs. Warren. Ned had turned wide-eyed to his friend, carefully laying his hand on Peter's arm where Flash had grabbed him.
"Are you hurt? Peter, I'm so sorry, you shouldn't get detention because of me. I'll talk to Mrs. Warren."
Peter had pulled Ned back with a tired sigh. "Don't bother, Ned. You know Mrs. Warren won't change her mind. She's not exactly my biggest fan. I'll message Mr. Stark that I'm going to be late."
Ned was quick to protest. " But you did nothing wrong! Dude, that's just not fair!"
"It's alright, Ned. It's only detention. It won't be too bad."
By the time Peter finally got to step out of the building, he felt the urge to shake his head at his naivety. Detention had been downright awful. The second the supervising teacher had rolled in the antic tube television, Peter had an odd foreboding of what would come. The old device had flickered to life, and the speaker began playing with a static noise that made Peter wince inwardly. Peter swears he could see Mr. Stark before his inner getting an aneurysm at the sight and sound of their school equipment. Peter had ignored the burning pair of eyes trying to bore into the back of his head, courtesy of Flash, the latter trying to get his attention by calling him names but got told off by their teacher quickly. Peter had also noticed the lack of MJ, who chose today out of all days, not bothering to sketch someone's questioning of their life choices, and maybe detention would have been a tiny bit less terrible with her in the classroom. His eyes had flipped back to the TV, where a star-spangled, all too familiar-looking man sat down on a chair and began talking. 
"So, your body is changing. Believe me. I know how that feels."
Peter had sunk deeper into his chair with a groan, the need to bid his lunch goodbye stronger than ever. Sixty painful minutes of unwanted advice from America's most popular and still living icon later, Peter is on his way to the Tower when his mobile phone vibrates inside his jeans pocket, Ned's name greeting him on the display.
"Hey, Peter. I'm still really sorry for earlier. But look what I found! This article is about Spiderman!"
Peter was glad his headphones were on as he clicked on the link Ned had sent him, as Never Gonna Give You Up blasts into his ears. It took him a few seconds as he stared down at his mobile phone, where the singer cheerfully danced behind his microphone, only for him to realize what happened. A surprised chuckle makes it out of his mouth as Peter holds his mobile phone up and whispers, "Dude, did you just rickroll me?". The grin was evident in his voice before he sent the audio message. It doesn't take Ned a minute to answer with a series of laugh emojis. Peter continuously chats with Ned on his way, his Spidey sense keeping him from bumping into anyone during the bustle on Manhattan's sidewalks. 
Despite being late, there is the hint of a smile tugging Peter's lips upwards as he steps out of the elevator, amused about something Ned had written. Someone clears their throat, and Peter startles at the sound, quickly using his stickiness to catch his phone. The device dangles from the tip of his ring finger while Peter wonders why he has not felt their presence when a pair of familiar black dress shoes comes into view. Realization washes over Peter at their sight, the owner the only other person apart from his aunt, that his spidey sense doesn't go off to. 
"Hey, Mr. Stark," greets Peter and puts on a polite smile as he takes in the frown displayed on his mentor's face. Maybe he should have written more than, "Hi, Mr. Stark. I'm going to be late. Happy doesn't have to drive me." 
Peter's smile must have looked as forced as it felt by the look Mr. Stark gave him in return. The man stays quiet as Peter walks past him towards the guest room to put his backpack away. Walking into the living room, the teen gets greeted by the rest of the Avengers lingering around. Peter makes a beeline towards the couch where Clint is sitting, hoping to avoid the confrontation with his mentor just a little longer.
"Hey, Pete. How was school?"
"Please don't ask," mumbles Peter, taking a pillow to hug it while he sinks further into the cushions, trying to be one with the furniture. He leans his head back and stares at the ceiling while Clint chuckles next to him. "That bad, huh?" asks the man, and Peter hums. He closes his eyes, relishing that he finally gets to rest when the sound of footsteps grows closer before halting in front of the couch. Peter suppresses a sigh.  
"Care to explain why you happen to be late?" Mr. Stark doesn't sound too bothered, which Peter takes as a good sign. He ponders if he liked Mr. Stark better when the man had been more indifferent but quickly pushes that thought into the back of his mind. Mr. Stark is just worried. But still, Peter didn't like the curiosity and concern in the older man's voice, the tone making him feel like a little kid getting scolded. The boy hugs the pillow closer, successfully muffling his voice by pressing it against his face. He really wasn't in the mood for this kind of conversation. Pushing his face deeper into the pillow, he grumbles, "I had detention."
"What was that? I didn't quite catch that, Spiderling."
Peter is pretty sure Mr. Stark did catch that. Something cold presses against his forehead, the only part of his face not hidden behind the pillow. Peter peeks from under it up to Natasha, who holds a can of Coca-Cola above him, a tiny smile on her lips. She nodded toward Stark with a reassuring smile, and Peter felt a bit better, knowing someone was there to step in if Mr. Stark became too overbearing. Taking the drink from her, the teen sat up properly and put the pillow down, facing his mentor.
"I hung out with Deadpool after school," he deadpanned, his last attempt to stir away from the topic. Mr. Stark raises an eyebrow, sending a side eye at Clint, who dared to snicker at the kid's comment.
"Funny kid, but just to let you know, I have a pretty little monitor in the lab telling me that you haven't left the school building until twenty-five minutes ago. Oh, and I hope for my and your aunt's sanity that you haven't been around Deadpool without at least a ten-mile distance between you two. That man is a nutcase, Peter."
Ignoring the jab at the merc with a mouth and Peter's secret "Thursday is taco-day" partner, he raises an eyebrow. "Should I file a police report for stalking, Mr. Stark?"
"Kid, I don't need two spies and Snowflake around knowing you are deflecting. Now, out with it. Why were you late?"
Peter picked up on the silence around, aware that, by now, everyone in the room and the kitchen were probably listening in. A little embarrassed by the attention, the teen's eyes wander toward his lap, where he absentmindedly fiddles with his web shooters, a sense of shyness overcoming him.  
"I had detention," he repeats, a little timid.
The silence only lasts a few seconds.
"Ouch, detention. I knew there had to be something about you, man. No one can be such a goody-two-shoes all the time," teases Sam with a smile, patting Peter's shoulder as he walks past to sit next to Bucky. Peter's lip twitched at the comment, relief flooding him when he looked around and saw no one looking disappointed. Catching Mr. Stark studying him, Peter fumbles with his web shooters again. Although the man didn't seem mad, the way he was looking at him made Peter nervous. Before the teen knew what was happening, he was already throwing a lengthy explanation the man's way, a sudden flood of words hastily chained together to form a somewhat coherent report of what had happened.
"Those meatballs were seriously bad, Mr. Stark. It reminded me of the time you made me try oysters. I'm not sure if I should ever forgive you for that, by the way. That had been kinda traumatic." Peter was painfully aware he was full-on rambling at this point, but Mr. Stark silently listening was unnerving him greatly, so he pushed on, eyes everywhere except Mr. Stark. 
"Flash walked up to us and tried picking a fight. I just wanted to go and ignore him, seriously Mr. Stark, I didn't even look at him, but then Ned said something about Flash feeling crappy cause of those meatballs, and it was a joke, but Flash heard it, and he was going to grab Ned by the collar." 
Peter goes on, and by the looks Bruce and Rhodey are throwing him, he should probably take a second to breathe before freaking out the adults in the room. But Peter couldn't waste time caring about who he was freaking out because he was going to freak if not managing to make Mr. Stark understand that he didn't get detention on purpose. 
"I put myself between them when Flash grabbed me instead when Mrs. Warren came by. She saw us in the hallway and gave us detention."
"Hold on," says Sam, sitting up as he looks at Peter, wearing an incredulous expression. "You've got detention 'cause you avoided your friend getting roughed up by that Flash kid? Is that what I'm getting?"
Before Peter could answer him, Mr. Stark had already his Stark phone out. "I knew that Flash kid meant trouble. That's it. I'm going to get that gremlin expelled."
"Wait, you can't do that, Mr. Stark!"
The man raises an eyebrow, and Peter backpedals quickly. "Okay, you could, but please, you don't have to. He didn't hurt anyone, and it's only detention!"
"He was about to hit your friend, Peter," comments Clint, and Peter did not doubt if Mr. Stark wasn't about to call his school, then the archer would be the one to do it. Clint could get weirdly protective at the most random times.
"He does dumb stuff, yes, but if you expel him, it could get him in serious trouble. I know he has problems at home, and getting expelled isn't the solution." By the pointed look he's receiving from several of the Avengers, Peter had a hunch that his arguments weren't cutting it. He needs to pull out the big guns. The teen leaned forward and looked up to Mr. Stark with the saddest puppy dog eyes he could muster. "Please, Mr. Stark. Don't call the school."
If he hadn't been panicking about Mr. Stark trying to expel his classmate, Peter would have found it funny how quickly the hero calling himself Iron Man crumbled. Tony rolls his eyes with an excessive sigh passing his lips as he pockets his Stark Phone. "Next time that hooligan starts something, I will have him expelled faster than you can say, Mr. Stark, got it?"
Peter grins at his mentor. "Got it, Mr. Stark," he chirps back, leaning back into the couch and feeling content for the first time that day. He catches onto the amused glances the others send him and Mr. Starks way. 
"So, how many pizzas should I order?" asks Rhodey, the man successfully breaking the silence. With the promise of Pizza and the knowledge that no one minded him getting detention, Peter takes out his phone to text Ned, the smile from before back on his lips. He looks up, feeling someone looking at him, and meets Bucky's eyes. 
"Still can't believe they give you detention without clearing up the situation," says the man, crossing his arms over his chest, a sour expression on his face. Peter was about to tell Bucky that it was alright, honestly touched that the man got bothered on his behalf when Captain America chose that moment to walk in. A groan builds up in his throat as the man settles next to Bucky. Steve's brows are furrowed in concern as he glances around the room, lines on his forehead deepening before his eyes turn to the teen. It takes only a second for Peter to guess that Steve had only picked up the detention part of the conversation.
"You've got detention?"
Steve says it so seriously it makes Peter want to throw the pillow at something. Or someone. Too tired to retell the event, Peter merely shrugs his shoulders. "It wasn't that bad."
He had hoped they would leave it at that, but who was he kidding? He's talking about Steve Rogers, after all. Peter's good mood starts deflating when Steve puts on his disappointed Captain America face.
"You're a good kid, Peter. You shouldn't get in trouble." 
The teen's expression turns sour at Steve's comment.
"Steve, leave him alone," begins Bucky, frowning at his friend and leaning forward to intervene when the teen sinks into his seat with a low groan. Tony shoots him a worried glance. "What's wrong, Pete?"
Peter ignores the question in favor of sending Steve a glare. Steve dared to look baffled by the look sent his way. If today hadn't been so bad, Peter wouldn't even consider rolling his eyes at Steve, but now he couldn't be bothered to be polite to Captain Popsicle. "I had to listen to your lectures for sixty minutes today, Steve. Sixty. Minutes. I think I had my fill, so please don't bother starting another lecture about what is right and wrong if you don't even know what happened!"
Mr. Stark looks highly amused, not bothering to stop Peter from throwing his sass at Steve, which the teen usually kept for being alone with him in the lab, not often showing it in front of the rest of the team. Bruce raises an eyebrow, head slightly tilted in question. "Peter, Steve had been here all day while you were in school. When should he have lectured you?"
"He wasn't, but I had to listen to his PSA during detention, and I don't feel like hearing more now," answers the teen with something that might, under some circumstances, resemble a pout. Not that Peter would be pouting in front of the Avengers.
"PSA?" asks Clint while Bucky carries a thoughtful look before glancing at the blond sitting next to him.
"You shot PSAs? They still do these?"
Taking in all the puzzled faces around them, Peter quickly realized something that filled his inside with nothing but delight. It was like someone turned a switch, the not-pout on the teen's face morphing into a grin bright enough to lighten the room while Steve's face darkened with every new question asked, their expression the complete opposite of each other. 
"They don't know," whispered Peter under his breath, eyes locked on Steve. He lets out a surprised laugh, a grin wider than ever. 
"Oh my god, Steve, they don't know!"
He sits upright, the tiredness completely wiped off him as he beams at the blond, eyes gleaming with mischief rivaling Loki.
"Peter," says Steve slowly, the warning heavy in the undertone of his voice. Said warning meets deaf ears, Peter not even thinking about stopping any time soon. He had felt like crap the whole day. Nothing went his way, and Peter knows that that's not on Steve. But having to listen to Captain America's lecture when he did nothing wrong only for the man himself to assume that he did something the second someone uses the word detention in context with Peter without giving him a chance to explain rubbed him the wrong way. The teen isn't a fan of revenge and retaliation and holding grudges, but today, Peter felt petty. If Steve thought he could spoil the rest of the day after school had been that bad already, then he could buckle up. Peter knows his behavior is childish and petty, traits no one would connect with Spiderman, but the teen isn't Spiderman right now. He is Peter Parker, a feeling wronged fifteen-year-old who holds the perfect blackmail material of the person who wronged him in his young, inhumanly sticky hands.
"So," begins Peter in the most serious voice he could muster, giving it his best Captain America impersonation. The way Steve's expression contorted into a grimace was worth it. "you got detention."
"I give you one chance to stop, Peter," warned Steve, eyes narrowed dangerously. Peter only grins wider at that, having way too much fun rilling the blond up while the others could only share confused glances.
"Something tells me this goes over my head," stage whispers Clint. 
"Doesn't everything?" shoots Sam at him simultaneously as Tony throws a, "Nothing new, then."
"Harsh," says Clint, rubbing his chest in mock hurt, causing the others to chuckle. "But back to Spider-kid and Cap, does anyone know what those two are on about?"
Choruses of no clue and a beat from Rhodey are all he gets before all eyes are on the pair, who are now challenging in a silent stare-off. Peter leaned forward, openly enjoying teasing the older man. Steve is ready to jump at him by the looks of it, but Peter isn't intimidated in the slightest, knowing he could outrun the older man. "You screwed up. You know what you did was wrong. The question is, how are you gonna make things right?"
Peter's grin widens at the same time Steve narrows his eyes. 
"Last warning, Pete."
The blond raises his eyebrows, caught off guard when the teen leans back into his seat. He watches with surprise how Peter fishes his phone out of his pocket, taking a short glance at it before calmly placing it on the coffee table. 
"Okay, I'll stop here," says Peter mercifully, stretching as he stands up and walks towards the kitchen. The blond's eyes follow the teen's movement, and Sam snickers how his friend's body deflates at the tension vacating his shoulders, amused by the power a teenager holds over Steve's head.
"Oh, by the way, Steve," Steve's heads shoot up at the tone in Peter's voice. He locks eyes with the teen, who wears the cheekiest grin any of the Avengers ever had seen him carry as he beams at the man.
"Maybe you were trying to be cool. But take it from a guy who's been frozen for 65 years... The only way to be cool is to follow the rules."
Peter's grin was about to reach his eyes. He couldn't help himself. 
"Are you following the rules, Steve?"
In hindsight, Peter should have anticipated that the super soldier wouldn't let go of it without some retaliation. It had been too much fun to watch the man's patience thinning than to think what the outcome of that scenario would mean for Peter. He ducks at the same time his Spidey sense peaks, blocking the pillow flung at him just in time. The low buzz had begun to surr in his ear since he started teasing Steve and was growing into a shrill ringing when the man got up from his seat incredibly fast. Peter turns around while stepping out of reach, avoiding the hands reaching for him by vaulting over the couch, including Clint. 
"Hey, no jumping over my furniture!" scolds Mr. Stark, but the crinkling of skin around his eyes betrays the stern act as he watches his mentee chased by Cap, wearing a grin on his face. 
"Sorry, Mr. Stark!" 
The sincerity of the apology suffers under the smile lying in his voice. 
Peter stands still, eyes not leaving Steve, who hovers on the other side of the couch, waiting for him to move. Despite focusing on the blond, Peter catches onto the excitement in the room, their little chase entertaining the others immensely, followed by the cheering they receive from the rest. The whole situation was so silly. Peter couldn't help but laugh when he feinted a step to the side, causing Steve to flinch as the man was ready to pounce but narrowing his eyes as he caught on Peter trying to fool him. He couldn't wait to tell Ned that he had teased Captain America, the thought alone bringing a grin about to split his face. 
The excitement in the room only increases, so much that Peter doesn't notice the new presence of a person before nearly bumping into them. Thanks to his sixth sense, he barely keeps from barreling into Mrs. Potts. He comes to an abrupt halt despite wearing socks, only possible thanks to his stickiness. Pepper holds a hand over her heart, the surprise written all over her face when Steve takes the chance of Peter not paying attention. The last thing Peter catches is Pepper's green eyes widening, her mouth forming a silent o before something slams into him at full speed, turning the world upside down. 
"Whoa, careful Steve. I don't want squished spiders on my clothes."
Clint scowls playfully at the blond, who ignores him in favor of wrestling with a laughing teen on the couch. The archer rolls his eyes at being ignored and points his thumb at the pair.
"Children. It's like herding cats." He snorts at the sight of Peter with his back pressed into the couch, one foot pressed against the super soldier's chest, and pushing the 240-pound weight off of him without much difficulty. "So, your body is changing," begins Peter, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face despite Steve looming above him, looking ready to throw him out of the next window. The blond reaches out to cover Peter's mouth to block more parts of his most embarrassing PSA coming out of the teen, the panic in his eyes causing Peter to break out into laughter. Steve narrows his eyes at the laughing teen, who half-heartedly shoves him off of him. 
"Can someone please tell me what is going on here?"
Peter perks up at Mrs. Pott's question, glancing at Steve with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Oh, I was just about to tell the rest about Mr. Roger's PSAs, Mrs. Potts," he chirps, ever so helpful. He was about to elaborate when Steve finally managed to clap his hand over Peter's mouth, successfully shutting him up.
"Noo, why did you turn him off?" complains Sam with faked disappointment. "It was just about to get interesting."
"Since when do you believe anything Peter tells you?" counters Steve, struggling to hold the teen down and keep him from spilling another word. Despite Peter's small size, the teen was powerful. Steve needed to trap him in a hold, somewhat resembling an uncomfortable back hug, to keep a hand over his mouth, but the teen with his freaky flexibility didn't even seem too bothered. 
"Well, the kid can be very persuasive. And he did sound like he had something important to tell us. Isn't that right, Peter?"
Peter nods vigorously despite the hand still covering his mouth. They watch the teen worming an arm out of Steve's bear hug, tugging on the hand that kept him from talking. Sam grinned as he observed Steve's face fall at the ease Peter pulled his hand away. The older man tried reclaiming the position, but the teen had it in a tight hold, successfully keeping him from putting his hand back on his mouth. Peter grabs Steve's other wrist and pushes the man's arms away, wriggling out of the hold. A bright grin adorns the teen's face as he pushes Steve away, who is back on his heels in a second. Peter jumped off the couch as a hand seized his leg, causing him to fall over. Several surprised gasps could be heard, along with a rather colorful curse directed at Steve from Tony as Peter catches himself, keeping from faceplanting into Mr. Stark's pristine white living room floor. In contrast to the glares Steve receives at the rash action, Peter openly cackles as Steve tries pulling him back by his leg.
"There is a perfectly equipped gym two floors down, and they decide to do this here?"
"Don't be harsh on them, Tony. They seem to be having fun," appeases Pepper, surprisingly one of the few people along with Bucky and Natasha who weren't shocked by seeing Peter fall. 
"Where does that look like having fun?" He asks, but one look at his mentee's face tells him his fiance was right. The kid is enjoying himself.
Meanwhile, Peter plants his palms on the floor, his upper body hanging off the couch. He sticks onto the tiles, sticking one hand down at a time, and crawls away while Steve still holds onto one of his legs. He keeps moving forward, laughing at the strained huff Steve lets out as he avoids Peter's free foot from kicking him in the stomach. The super soldier bats the flailing limp away, shortly loosening his hold on the teen's leg, which the latter quickly uses as a chance to create some leeway. 
He doesn't get very far.
"No!" shouts Peter as a hand wraps around his ankle and pulls him back half a meter. "Sam! Bucky! Help!" pleads the teen half-heartedly, reaching out for the two men sitting on the opposite couch.
"What do you say, Buck? Do we help the munchkin?"
"I know Steve long enough not to interfere when he gets like that. Punk is a mad dog when he throws a fit. Sorry, kid, you're on your own."
Peter is about to give the men a piece of his mind when he gets pulled another good amount of inches back before he gets back to stick on the floor. He crawls away again, but Steve has none of it and reaches for the teen's other ankle. Thanks to his spidey sense, Peter avoids the grip by turning on his side, but it causes him to roll further towards the couch than away from it. Steve quickly takes the opportunity to reach down and hook his hand under the teen's side, attempting to heave Peter off the ground. The teen twists in his hold, and Steve curls his fingers into Peter to keep a hold of him when an honest-to-good squeal escapes the teen.
An eerie silence hangs over the room, no one daring to speak as Steve stares at the frozen teen in his hold who avoids meeting his face as best as he can, but he catches onto the reddened tips of his ears. Steve's lip twitched knowingly. He knows that kind of reaction. He squeezes his hand abruptly, lips forming into a grin as the body on the floor jumps like a fish on land at the action.
"Oho," says Clint, sounding way too gleeful, the first to break the silence, having watched the silent realization come over Steve with amusement. 
"What a way to reveal your secret, kid. At least I won't have to keep this to myself anymore," comments Tony with a grin.
Now was Steve's turn, carrying a mischievous grin.
"A secret? What kind of secret could that be, Peter? You like sharing information. How about you enlighten us about this, huh?"
Peter feels his heart jump at the tone in Steve's voice. He kind of regrets having made fun of the man. Peter begins crawling again, but this time with more vigor than before. He doesn't get very far as Steve instantly pulls him back but meets resistance as the teen sticks to the ground. The problem resolves itself quickly as Steve releases one of Peter's legs to reach forward and claw at the teen's ribs. With a shriek, Peter's left hand unsticks, arm shooting down to protect his side. Steve's hand darts to the teen's other side, repeating the procedure and efficiently getting the teen off the ground. From there on, it was easy to throw the already laughing boy back onto the couch. 
Never one to back down quickly, Peter instantly tries climbing over the couch, but an arm sneaks around his middle and prevents him from escaping. He tries reaching for the backrest, but a hand worms its way into his underarm, and every attempt to reach his arm out to grasp something becomes futile. He quickly gets pushed down, back pressed into the couch cushion as Steve looms over him for a second time that day, but this time, Peter could crawl out of his skin at the grin on the older man's face.
"Dohon't do this," says Peter, voice void of any conviction as nervous giggles accompany his words. Not knowing what to do with his hands, the teen awkwardly holds them in front of him, half shielding his upper body and half waiting to catch any hands that were about to attack. Steve watches with growing amusement how the boy's eyes jump from his face to his hands and back as if he were unsure what was more important to keep track of. He had never seen such an amount of nervous energy radiating from the teen. It was adorable to see him this unnerved about something harmless as this.
"This? What do you mean, Peter? Is this about the secret Tony mentioned?"
"I don't know what you are talking about. I don't have any secrets. Apart from being Spiderman, I mean," Peter stumbles over his words, lips twitching upwards when Steve raises an eyebrow at him. "No secrets to share, no information to keep. I have nothing to hide, so you can let me go. Please?"
Steve turns towards Clint, who hasn't moved an inch, even with the literal wrestling match happening on the seats next to him. "What do you say, Clint? Does he tell the truth?"
Peter throws a pleading look towards the archer. Clint grins at the pair.
"You see that face," he asks, pointing at the teen. "As a spy and a father, I can tell you that's the face of a liar."
"That's not true!" protests Peter as Steve turns back to him. Catching onto the look the man bestows on him, Peter snatches the next best thing he can get his hands on, a decorative pillow, and uses it to shield himself, a giant grin about to split his face. Steve cracks his knuckles.
"Seems like I have to get the truth out of you."
"Noho!" shouts Peter with a laugh as Steve pulls at the pillow. Nervous giggles are pouring out of him as he tries to make himself as small as possible, and it is faint, but Steve's enhanced hearing could pick up on the wild pace of the kid's heart beating. 
"Let go of the shield, Spiderman," commands Steve, eyes gleaming playfully at the boy.
"In your dreams," says Peter, only fastening his hold onto the pillow, the only thing keeping him safe from the fingers getting closer. Steve catches a movement out of the corner of his eyes, lips twitching ever so slightly. He focuses back on Peter, the boy watching him with his whole attention, unaware of the hands reaching for his feet. A shriek escapes the vigilante, eyes widening at the feel of blunt nails running over his socked soles, causing him to flinch and pull his legs up at the ticklish feeling. Steve uses the moment of surprise to tear the pillow out of Peter's hand, depriving him of the last thing to shield himself from his attack.
"Thanks, Clint."
"No problem, Cap."
Peter sends a glare Clint's way, but the archer only needs to reach for his feet for the teen to let the glare turn into a panicked grin, quickly tucking his legs close. "That's what I thought," says Clint with a smug grin. Steve uses the moment of inattention, poking the teen's stomach in quick succession. The reaction didn't disappoint.
"Hey! Stohop it!"
Peter tries glaring at the blond while his hand fails to catch the poking fingers, jumping when one poke lands dangerously close to his lower rip. The motion doesn't go unnoticed by the soldiers' trained eyes, a sly smirk forming on the man's face. "Why? Does it bother you?"
"Yehehehes! Stahahap pokehihing me!" complains Peter, but it was hard to take the teen seriously with the constant giggling. Steve does stop at that. 
"Alright, I'll stop. Would you prefer this instead?" 
He skitters his fingers over the teen's stomach, grinning at the squeal escaping Peter before he tries curling on himself, hysterical giggles pouring out of him, unaware that the sound causes amused smiles to appear on every face in the room. 
"Nahaha, gehehet your hahahands of mehehe," Peter manages to bring out between his laughter as he twists on his side, addressing the others.
"Sohohomebody hehelp!"
"Anyone here knows who that somebody is he's talking about?" asks Sam, feigning ignorance.
"I hahahete you, Bihihirdman 2!"
"Yeah, I can't take anything you say seriously giggle-bug."
Peter is about to counter, but a set of fingers dug into the part where his ribs and upper back meet, sending a ticklish shock throughout his body. He jumps at the touch, and Steve latches onto the reaction, taking both hands to claw at his ribcage and digging his fingers in on the search for that spot. Peter's giggles had long ago turned into bright laughter, now accompanied by an occasional shriek and a whole-body jump as Steve found what he'd been searching for. 
"Oh, what's this?" he asks, voice full of glee.
"NOHOHOTHING, IT'S NOTHINIHIN!"
"Something tells me you're onto something, Cap," comments Rhodey with a grin, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, amusement written all over his face. 
Peter shakes his head at the words, chanting "Stopstopstopstohohooop," while trying to catch the hands that are way too skillful in sending ticklish sparks under his skin, leaving him in stitches. "Why? Is this the spot I have to go to to get you to tell me about your secret? Although I think I can already guess what it is."
Steve grins down at Peter who tries so hard to scowl at him but fails miserably. It leaves the man wondering where all the strength has gone, and while the idea of tickling being Spiderman's big-bad weakness sounds fun, Steve knows for the better that this couldn't be the reason for the teen's failure to escape. 
"OH MY GOHOHOHOD, NOHOHO!" Peter kicks his legs, wriggling from side to side and throwing his head back when Steve finds a way to slip his hands into his underarms. He presses his arms down, quickly rendering Steve's fingers immobile, but the feeling of them simply touching his armpits tickled like mad. 
"Peter, I kinda need my hands back, or we're stuck here until tomorrow," teases Steve, amused when the boy shakes his head with a giant grin. 
"Buck, a little help here?"
The other man huffs a small laugh. "You're seriously stuck?"
Steve grins at him. "I can't move a single finger."
With a shake of his head, Bucky makes his way over to the couch. He assesses the situation before glancing at Peter, the latter trying to catch his breath. Without a word, Bucky clasps both hands on Peter's thighs just over the kneecap, squeezing and massaging his thumb into the muscle. Peter kicked like mad at the action, breaking into loud belly laughter, and Steve could pull his hands away as the teen was busy twisting and wriggling, trying anything to get Bucky's hands off his knees. 
"How did you know that would work?" asks Sam, impressed, as Bucky walks back to sit on the couch as if nothing had happened. Bucky shrugs. "It works on Steve," he answers cooly, but with a smirk playing on his face. Steve glares at him but quickly focuses on Peter, who uses the moment to try crawling in the other direction of the couch. Clint only watches with amusement as he has a lap full of enhanced teen trying to crawl over him as if that was your normal Monday afternoon thing, only to get caught by the shoulder and get dragged back. 
"We're not done yet, Queens."
"Steheheheve, pleaahahse. I cahanah't tahahake anymhohore!" whines Peter, but Steve catches onto the playful spark glinting in his eyes. 
"Okay, I'll stop here," says Steve, mimicking Peter. "But there's one thing I'll have to tell you." The teen narrows his eyes at the blond, not trusting one word coming from Steve.
"What I tell you now is about one of the most valuable traits a student or soldier can have."
Peter's eyes widen comically. As soon as his brain registers the words, he gracelessly flails in his place. The teen tries to throw himself off the couch as he knows where this is going, but Steve, having anticipated the action, jumps forward and catches the teen around the waist. He keeps his arm wrapped around Peter's middle, hugging the teen against his chest and kneading his free hand into Peter's side without further ado.
"Nohohohot anohohother one! Steve pleahahahase! Dohohohon't do thihihhis! I-I'll goho insahahane!"
Steve keeps a stoic face despite the madly giggling and protesting fifteen-year-old half-sitting squirming in his lap, batting and pulling on the arm holding him in place. He continues his speech with his Captain America voice, causing several eyebrows to raise in amusement.
"Patience." he begins, while his hand slips under the teen's shirt, skittering his fingers over bare skin, "Sometimes, patience is the key to victory." 
Peter doesn't know if it's the teasing or the fact that Steve keeps dragging his fingers over the bare skin of his sides, but he can't help kicking his legs into the air and throwing his head back into Steve's shoulder as his whole body shakes under the force of him laughing. Steve takes advantage of Peter's head being this close as he speaks the following words right into his ear, earning him the cutest giggle he had ever heard as the teen desperately tries to scrunch his shoulder up and shield his ear from the tickly air. "Sometimes, it leads to very little, and it seems like it's not worth it, and you wonder why you waited so long for something so disappointing." 
At his last word, Steve changes his tactics and uses his free hand to poke every place he can find that Peter isn't poorly trying to protect. The boy can't do anything in his hold but giggle his head off, and Steve wonders once again why Peter doesn't escape since he certainly could until he realizes that, maybe, Peter doesn't want to escape. The thought sparks his interest, and he might as well test that theory while the opportunity's still there.
"STEHEHEHEHEHEVE! NO! Anywhere but there! Please please please, please not thihihis it's so bad. Seriously, dohon't do it! STEHEVE NOHOHO, WHY AREN'T YOHUHU LISTENIHIHIHN! AHAHAHAH NO STAHAHAHAP!"
Peter trashes in his hold as the super solider gets another chance to dig into that sweet spot between his back and rips, sending the kid into a laughing fit, face reddening as he squeezes his eyes shut, the corner wettening with tears of joy before his laughter turns silent.
"Steve, I'll think he got the message," interrupts Tony, having caught onto the change from silent laughter to coming out a tad bit breathless. Not wanting to overdo it, the blond stops the tickling but keeps his arm around the teen, afraid Peter will fall if he lets go of him. The boy hangs slack in his hold, trying to catch his breath.
"You good, Queens?" asks Steve, a little worried he might have overdone it as he carefully loosens his hold on Peter. The latter let himself slip to the side, landing with a groan on the couch. Feeling Steve's eyes on him, Peter turns his head but keeps lying on his side. He sends the man a tired grin.
"I think now I know the true meaning of patience. And ruthlessness."
With a smile, Steve reaches over and ruffles Peter's already messed-up hair. 
"You need another lecture, and you know where to find me," he jokes, smirking at the dramatic groans it earns him. 
"Yeah, no, I think I pass. You know what I would rather listen to?"
Steve raises an eyebrow in question.
Peter grins at him. 
"Some Captain America PSAs."
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amazingmsme · 4 months
Text
With a Bow on Top
AN: Happy holidays to all who celebrate, & especially to @tickles-tea I’m your squealing santa! I loved writing this, & I hope you enjoy! Added a lil festive flare to this one. HUGE thanks to @hypahticklish for hosting! & be sure to follow @squealing-santa so you don’t miss out on all the winter fluff!
Miguel sat on the floor of Peter and MJ's living room, half-used rolls of wrapping paper scattered about the floor around him. Peter himself was sitting next to him, completely transfixed on the movie playing "for background noise."
That lying rat bastard.
"You know, I only said I'd bring my universe's Grinch because you promised you wouldn't get distracted and actually help out. Which, you're not doing," Miguel said bluntly. Peter snapped out of his Christmas movie haze to defend himself.
"Sorry, but I've just never seen it before!" He reached down and grabbed one of Mayday's unwrapped gifts. Folding the paper around the box, he finished by sealing it up with a web. Miguel rolled his eyes.
"What? My gift looks way cooler than yours, you're just jealous of my artistic flare," he said smugly.
"Don't get me wrong, it looks great, but how's she gonna open it?" Miguel asked with a smirk. Peter's brow's nearly kissed his hairline as he came to the realization.
"Shit! Well, hopefully by Christmas it'll be weak enough to tear through," he finished with a shrug, slapping a bow on top and sliding it under the tree. As Peter reached for another present, he noticed a scrap piece of ribbon, much too short to fit around a box. Then, his gaze trailed over to his unassuming friend. Perfect.
He picked it up, fluttering it along the back of Miguel's neck. Peter can hear him gasp, and isn't that a lovely sound. He rolls his broad shoulders, arching his back and scrunching his neck ever so slightly. By the time he whipped around to glare at the perpetrator, he had already retracted his hands, hiding them innocently in his pockets.
Miguel looked him up and down before returning to his work. To his credit, Peter waited a few seconds before striking once more. Miguel sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, rubbing his ear against his shoulder to rid himself of the lingering tingles.
"Peter?"
"Hm?"
"I know you're not really working," he deadpanned. Peter sputtered in shock.
"I am too! Look, a perfectly wrapped gift!" he said proudly, holding out Mayday's present. Miguel looked it over, only half amused.
"You're right, a gift. So why not pick up the pace?" he challenged, tossing a Spider-Man themed basketball his way that Peter had planned on giving Miles. Peter caught it with one hand, and Miguel rolled his eyes. Showoff.
"How the hell am I supposed to wrap a ball?"
"I don't know wise guy, you're the one who got it for him." Okay, Peter wasn't sorry for what he was about to do.
He grabbed a marker off the floor and uncapped it with his teeth, making a satisfying pop sound. He barely bit back a snicker as he leaned in, quickly scribbling at the back of his neck. A strangled squeal caught in his throat at he snatched Peter's wrist in one hand, the other rubbing at his neck.
"You think you're funny or somethin'?" he asked with a cold glare.
"Hilarious, actually," Peter corrected with a shrug. Miguel scoffed and let him go.
"Go back to watching the damn movie if you're just gonna bother me," he suggested, grabbing a new tube of wrapping paper to switch things up. Can't have them all looking the same, now can we?
Why not both? Peter thought to himself, an evil grin growing on his face that rivaled the Grinch onscreen. He grabbed two pieces of ribbon discarded on the floor holding them poised to strike between his fingers. Miguel had his back turned, busy wrapping another present and allowing himself to get sucked into the movie. He was practically serving himself up on a silver platter. He really ought to know better by now...
Or maybe he didn't totally mind Peter's shenanigans. But that was a silly, fleeting thought.
Or was it? Only one way to find out.
Ever so quietly, he scooted closer to Miguel, snatching the marker off the floor. The grumpy Spider-Man was sporting a pair of ripped jeans. (He constantly made sure people knew he didn't buy them like that and that he earned those holes and rips.) A particularly large hole left his knee exposed and vulnerable for an attack... Perfect.
He let out a surprised snort, jerking his leg away before a chuckle could follow. They were locked in an intense staring contest, or glaring contest, on Miguel's part. Peter wore an innocent grin, though his next words were anything but.
"What's wrong big guy? Ticklish?"
If it were anyone else, they wouldn't have noticed the way he flinched at the question.
"No."
"Really? You're sticking to that lie?"
Miguel huffed, angrily slapping a bow on top of a present. "It's not a lie."
"Well in that case, I'm not ticklish either," Peter boldly proclaimed. Miguel looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Since we're being honest and all." Miguel grabbed a tube of wrapping paper, bonking Peter on the head in one swift motion before he even knew what happened.
"Don't forget I'm the one helping you," he reminded pointedly.
"Noted," Peter said, grabbing the tube from him and setting it beside MJ's new boots. For good measure, he started wrapping the gift until Miguel turned away. Then it was back to scheming.
He scanned the pile of unwrapped gifts for inspiration, smiling to himself when he spotted a handheld massager he got as a stocking stuffer.
"Hey Miguel?" he elected to ignore the annoyed groan he was met with, "Can you do me a favor?"
"No."
"Perfect! Just tell me if this massager is any good, okay? I don't want it to be too weak or painful, or not have enough settings." He heard Miguel sigh in defeat.
"Whatever."
"Thanks!" He scooted closer to him, turning on the X-shaped massager. At first he decided to play nice and actually work out the tension in his friend's shoulders before setting his plan into motion. He had to rebuild some trust, after all.
"Not bad, I think she'll like this," Miguel hummed, letting his head fall to one side as he began to relax. He was really watching the movie now, allowing himself a moment to enjoy it. It was one of the more heartfelt scenes of the film, and one of his favorites. He found he tended to like the more subtle, meaningful holiday movies rather than the over the top comedies and rom coms that dominated the season.
The last thing he was expecting was a dreadfully ticklish buzzing on his side.
His resolve gave way as he fell onto one side, loud surprised cackles spilling out into the room and drowned out the sound of the TV.
"Peheheter! Quit ihihit!"
"I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you through all that laughing. Which is weird, considering how not ticklish you are," he taunted, running the massager over his abs. Miguel curled in on himself, a giggly groan slipping out in response to the teasing.
"You're hohohorrible, you know thahat?" he asked, weakly swatting at Peter's hands, but to no avail.
Peter snorted. "Maybe to you."
The gentle vibrations traveled from his belly up his sides and to his ribs, causing the deep rumbling chuckles to build up momentum. Encouraged by this, Peter grabbed his wrist and wrestled his arm above his head, pinning it in place.
"Wahait!" he cried, trying to fend him off with his other hand. Peter grinned down at him, the textbook definition of smug.
"Okay. Well? What am I waiting for?" he asked, hovering the tool above his armpit menacingly. Miguel slammed his head against the ground in frustration.
"Gehehet off of me, you asshole!" he demanded through giggles.
"Why should I?" Peter challenged.
He just won't quit, will he? Miguel had no choice but to surrender, if they ever wanted to get done wrapping, that is.
"Fihihine, okay? You wihihin!" he conceded, rolling around on the ground. ,!"
"Wow, okay, so what do I win?" he asked, pulling his hands away to give him a breather. Miguel panted and glared up at him.
"I'm fuckin' ticklish, okay? There, happy?" he growled through residual giggles.
"Over the moon," Peter confirmed. He patted Miguel's chest as he let him go, crawling over to the pile of unwrapped presents. "No more funny business, I promise!" he assured. Miguel only rolled his eyes, a fond smile still lingering on his face.
"Yeah yeah, I'll believe it when I see it."
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warrenwrites · 1 year
Text
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
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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.”
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“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.”
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432 notes · View notes
valiantphantomangel · 4 months
Text
The best Christmas ever.
"Reindeer Games!! the lights have to be at least six inches away from each other!" Tony shrieked as he nearly ran into Steve who was carrying in another christmas tree with Bucky.
The sixth christmas tree in the freaking living room!
"Calm down man of iron" Loki grumbled as he pulled the lights further apart with the help of Natasha.
"Do you not know how to hang ornaments"?! Iron man freaked as he turned the small ball a few degrees the other way "go you disgust me"! He yelled at Sam before chasing after him with his small note book.
"Yep he's definitely gone insane" Natasha said with a nod as she and Loki climbed down from the ceiling where the lights hang.
"I have to agree with Lady Natasha" Thor mused while he made sure the lights were secured tightly.
"Who even put him in charge?" Rogers asked as he pushed the christmas tree upright.
"you did Cap" Clint said with a laugh from the vents where he was keeping watch so you wouldn't walk in on them decorating yet.
"...Right"
just then Peter literally fell from the ceiling with a shriek leaving Loki to catch him and put him back on his feet "Y/N is in the elevator to this floor"!!
Since it was a surprise that they were decorating the tower to give you the best Christmas ever, Loki quickly cast a spell to make all the decorations go invisible and they all dived into a hiding spot.
Somehow Sam managed to dive almost on top of Bucky who let out a groan and shoved him off "Damm it Samuel"!
Everyone shushed him and stayed hidden just as the elevator doors opened, you walked out with your headphones on listening to music and walked into the kitchen to grab some left over pizza.
"we need to distract her until we are done" Nat whispered to Loki as they sat crouched behind a couch.
"I'll distract her, you guys finish decorating" He whispered back with a grin, being the God of mischief and lies gave him quite the advantage on knowing your ticklish little secret and he was more then happy to finally use it.
Loki stood up and walked up behind you, tapping you on the shoulder and successfully making you jump in fright.
"Jesus Christ Loki! You scared the living daylights out of me" You said with a hand on your heart as you took off your headphones.
"My apologies, i simply wanted to ask if I could retrieve my book from your room?" He said hiding his grin.
"Yeah of course, I'll show you where it is" you said with a nod and walked off with your plate of pizza after kicking the fridge door shut.
Loki trailed behind you as you both stepped into your room, but before you could utter 'abracadabra' he tackled into your bed and pinned you underneath him.
"Loki what the hell" you said confused which quickly turned into a surprised giggle when he traced your ribs.
"Sorry for the scare darling, it's just that I heard some interesting information about you" He said with a mischief smirk as he continued to trace your ribs and tummy.
"And what would that behihihi?" you giggle nervously.
"Sargeant Barnes told me about your little ticklish secret" Loki mused as he ghost tickled your tummy which sent chills all over since you were incredibly sensitive.
Your eyes widen before bursting out in giggles as you trashed around, he dug into your ribs and softly traced your tummy at the same time, driving you into madness.
"NOT THEREHIHIHIHIHI" you screamed in laughter as you arched your back to escape him which only gave him more access to your sides.
"Then I'll just switch places love" Loki grinned as he scratched lightly over your neck before suddenly blowing a raspberry on your tummy.
"GHAHHAHAHHAHA" you laughed loudly until your laugh turned silent and he let up, pulling you up to lay your head on his chest.
"Shall we watch some movies for the rest of the afternoon love?" He asked as he played with your hair.
You hummed in agreement as you settled against him, curling up content.
And that's how the afternoon went, every time you tried to get up to grab something from the kitchen Loki latched onto your sides and reduced you into a giggly mess to keep you in your room.
When it got dark Steve and Tony walked in, smiling when they saw you two.
"Come on kid, we have a surprise" Tony said as he pulled you to your feet and guided you out of the room with his hands over your eyes, the other two quickly following to make sure you didn't fall.
After an interesting walk downstairs (Tony almost walked you straight into a wall and got his head smacked for it) you arrived in what you believed was the living room.
Tony took his hands from your eyes and you gasped.
The entire room was full with lights of all colours and in every corner stood a christmas tree, which was decorated to perfection with presents underneath it, you looked up and saw even more fairy lights around the ceiling. It was absolutely stunning.
A smile made its way to your lips as happy tears gathered in your eyes, you felt a pair of arms around you and soon you were engulfed by the team.
"You guys did all this?" You asked as you wiped your tears away.
"Of course we did, we wanted to make this your best ever christmas" Nat smiled as she threw her arm around your shoulders.
"Why?"
"Because we wanted to make you feel at home, loved and happy, we knew how much christmas means to you" Clint said as he appeared next to you.
"Well you guys certainly made that happen" you chuckle as you still looked around in wonder.
"Merry Christmas Y/N" Bucky said with a soft smile.
"Merry Christmas, you guys are the best family I could've asked for" You smiled brightly and you were once again engulfed by the team.
It was safe to say that this was the BEST christmas ever!!
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gaybananabread · 4 months
Note
Hey! Could I get a ATSV fic, with lee!miguel, and ler!peter b, with a side of cherries? Could I also get a receipt? (/j)
Fruit(s): Cherries
Oooooh these two! Tired “old” men club time! I’m gonna be entirely honest, a pic on Pinterest inspired this entire thing. Got an idea and abselutely ran with it aghshrara… YEAh I’m not running off much sleep but eh. Sorry for any characterization goofs; my brain is fighting existence. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!
Lee: Miguel
Lers: Peter B. Parker, brief Mayday
Summary: Peter brings Mayday to the base for the twenty-millionth time, letting her wander around Miguel’s office. Turns out the beefcake is her favorite thing to climb on. When the young spider girl reminds him of one of Miguel’s quirks, Peter makes sure the grumpy old man has a laugh. 
Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!
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If there was one thing Peter did that got on Miguel’s nerves, it was when he let his kid wander everywhere like she owned the place. He had already made sure it was fine for him to bring the toddler around, but the solemn man never could’ve predicted just how often that would be. As in, he never saw the middle-aged spider without a baby carrier strapped to his chest.
Besides the obvious safety hazards, it tugged at Miguel’s heart strings to see the little girl running around. She was so happy, so care-free, so full of life… He couldn’t help but reminisce. For anyone who doesn’t know Miguel, let me explain: when he reminisced, he was a grumpy, angsty bastard.
That day was one of many where Peter brought Mayday to the base, the red-headed toddler zipping and twipping around Miguel’s office. The boisterous father greeted Miguel, a wide smile on his face as he showed Miguel many repetitive pictures of the kid that was literally two feet away from him. Still, he managed to bite his tongue, only looking down at the phone with an unamused frown.
“Oh, oh, you’ve gotta see this one; she’s so focused! I knew she’d love those- uh… Miguel, c’mon. You look like I’m holding you at gunpoint to watch paint dry.” 
Peter lowered the phone, his hand moving to rest on his hip as he viewed Miguel’s tired face. He just scoffed, giving Peter a look that said “I’m so done with you” to the max. “Peter, the kid is right there. I don’t need the digital scrapbook experience.”
Mayday chose that moment to swing over to the two men, landing on Miguel’s shoulder and swinging her tiny feet. His heart both filled and squeezed at the sweet action. 
Rolling his eyes, Peter put his phone completely away. Scrapbook… He’d have to remember that one, even if it was just sarcasm. 
“I’m not asking you to jump for joy at every photo. Just crack a smile or two, ya grump!” He tried poking Miguel’s side, only to get his wrist snatched and a deathly glare shot at him. Peter quickly retracted his hand, holding both up in surrender. Mayday giggled at the silly exchange, her beanie sliding as she wiggled about.
The toddler used her powers to stick to Miguel, crawling across him because she could; toddler logic doesn’t need to make sense. She was just having fun! The tot shivered, the cool air of the office sending goosebumps across her skin. Mayday grabbed onto his side, snuggling into the warm crook of his arm.
Miguel huffed when he felt the small girl on his side, trying not to smile as he grabbed for her. She whined, using her powers to stay stuck on him. Not wanting to hurt Mayday, he sighed and turned back to Peter. He motioned towards his side, a restrained look on his face. “Little help here?”
Peter chuckled, seeing his daughter snuggle up to Miguel. “Nah, you seem all good. She’s just snuggling with you, what’s up?”
He glared at his friend, though there wasn’t much he could say. There was no way he was gonna admit that her small hands were tickling him; Peter would never let him live it down. He scowled, instead choosing the “be an asshole” route. “I don’t want your kid climbing on me. You have a baby carrier for a reason; use it.”
Seriously? Peter rolled his eyes, looking at his daughter. She seemed so peaceful, all cozy against Miguel’s side; he felt bad moving her. Still, he had to respect Miguel’s wishes, even if they were cruel. “Fine, fine! Don’t get your fangs in a twist…” 
Walking over to the grumpy spider-man, Peter reached out to grab his daughter. She whined, clinging tighter to Miguel’s side and nuzzling her fuzzy head against his ribs. 
A short huff escaped the stoic man, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. He squirmed, finally grabbing onto the small child and trying to tug her off. “Maldita sea- Peter, grab her!” 
“Hey, language!” His voice sounded…giddy? What was…oh. Mayday was tickling him. She was grabbing his side and brushing his ribs. “Awwww, Miggy! Is little Mayday-”
“Don’t.” Miguel gave Peter the fiercest glare he could manage, though it was put off by the ghost of a smile on his lips. There was no way in hell Peter was gonna back off after that. 
Shooting forwards, Peter grabbed Miguel’s arrm, shooting a web up and restraining it. The big man would’ve thrashed and reversed their positions, but he didn’t want to risk hurting Mayday; he was pretty much screwed.
Peter wasted no time; if Miguel gained his footing, Peter was so done for. The man grabbed Miguel’s side, spidering his fingers against Miguel’s stomach. The man bit his lip, trying both to keep Mayday secure and hold in his giggles at the same time. 
“P-Peter, I swehear- GYAH!” Miguel jolted as he felt a squeeze to his hip, almost dropping his hold on Mayday. Peter smirked, leaning forwards and continuing to mess with Miguel’s hips. “Oh, sorry Miguel. Did that tickle~?”
That little… Peter was so dead when he got out of that. Much to his dismay, he could feel a red hue burning on his cheeks as he laughed. “PEHETER! IHI’M GONNA- MIERDA!” Trying to keep a steady hold on Mauday while having his hips squeezed was a lot harder than he thought it would be…
“Miguel, c’mon. There’s a kid right here, watch your mouth.” Peter was only half-faking his exasperation. True, he was kinda being a jerk, but Mayday didn’t need to learn how to cuss in any more languages.
Mayday giggled, feeling Miguel’s chest shake as he laughed. She was used to her dad being silly, but Miguel? Never, ever had she heard him laugh like that. Wanting to join in on the fun, she copied her dad, squeezing and scribbling on his ribs.
While there was barely any pressure, her tiny hands still tickled. Miguel jerked, losing his grip on the girl in surprise. Mayday wasn’t even phased; she just hung on with her powers, Mayday giggled at his squirming, thoroughly enjoying herself in the silliness.
Peter kept watch of his daughter in the corner of his eye, making sure she wouldn’t fall. Miguel probably wouldn’t kill him. It was all in good fun, and he neecded a laugh anyway. Sure, his revenge would be…interesting, but it was worth it.
“Wow, look how red you are! I thought Miles was resident tomato face, but looks like you’re givin’ him a run for his money~” Peter continued to tease his friend, knowing his comments would get to the man. It was too easy to tease Miguel like this; later was what most people worried about. Peter had no fears, though; Miguel wouldn’t kill him…probably.
“SHUHUT UHUP!” Miguel twisted and tugged at the webs, nearly breaking through them. He could only take so much of the other man’s silliness. “PEHEHETER! GEHET OHOFF MEHEHE!”
While he could tell Miguel was getting sick of him, Peter wasn’t quite ready to stop. The blush on Miguel’s face was quite endearing, only egging the father on. True, he couldn’t control it, but eh. “I think I just got a new favorite color! Miguel’s-blush red~” 
The angsty spider growled through his laughter, already plotting his revenge in his head. Mayday laughed, deciding she’d played around enough for one day. The girl climbed off of Miguel, using her small webshooter to sit on a ledge and watch the goofy old men interact.
The moment Mayday was safely off him, Miguel turned the tables. He yanked his wrist free from the webbing, grabbing Peter and pinning him to the wall. It was almost scary how fast that man could recover… Peter went to make a joke, though it died in his throat. “Hey, at least…buy me…ehe. Uh, truce?” He gulped, looking at Miguel’s smirk and determined eyes. Eugh boi… Still blushing, though.
“Es hora de morir, Peter~” Before Peter could protest any further, Miguel dug his claws into the man’s stomach, squeezing and scratching the squishy flesh. Peter shrieked, not at all prepared for his due penance.
Mayday watched as they messed around, giggling and tilting her head. She had grabbed her dad’s discarded robe, snuggling up into it and getting warm. Those two would likely be at it for a while, and she was more than happy to watch the two laugh. Silly boys…
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Text
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
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You were living at the Avengers compound with many of the Avengers, including the Widow sisters, Steve, Peter, Wanda, Kate and many others. This was your second time celebrating Christmas with them, so you were more used to the traditions. 
Bright and early in the morning, you guys would open presents and then eat a nice big breakfast. Each year they would rotate who would cook. This year, it was you, Peter and Wanda. However, you were looking forward most to opening presents. You were so eager that you couldn’t wait for morning.
You snuck downstairs quietly, making sure to not make any noise to not get caught. You tiptoed towards the tree, using your phone flashlight to look for the gifts that had your name on it. You grabbed a box that had your name on it, being careful to not let the wrapping paper make too much noise. 
You had succeeded in making a pile of your gifts and were ready to start peeking. However, you were so focused on being quiet that you didn’t notice Fanny and Lucky coming up behind you. The two dogs were so interested in the tree and presents and came up next to you. Fanny licked your face, as Lucky nuzzled into your neck.
You let out a yelp of surprise, gently pushing the dogs away.
“Fanny! Lucky! What are you guys doing?” You whispered, knowing the dogs would not answer.
The dogs panted and started sniffing the boxes around you.
“Don’t open those!” You said, trying to move them away from the dogs. However, you got frazzled and let a few boxes topple, causing a loud noise. 
You panicked and wondered about what to do next. You could either stay and tell them the truth, stay and blame it on the dogs, or run and hide in your bedroom.
You decided to stay and blame it on the dogs.
“I owe you one,” you whispered to the dogs, as they continued to smile. 
“Y/N, what on earth is going on?” Natasha asked, walking out and looking half asleep.
“The dogs were trying to open the presents, so I came down to try and stop them before it was too late,” you explained, hoping that your lie would work.
Natasha eyed you suspiciously, knowing that the dogs were asleep before they went to bed.
“How did you know they were opening the presents?” Natasha asked you.
“Umm, I just heard them,” you insisted stubbornly.
“You know we have security cameras around the compound, right?” Natasha said, now smirking.
“Don’t check them!” You blurted out
“What is all this racket?” Yelena said, coming out of their bedroom, her accent strong as she had just woken up.
“I caught Y/N lying and trying to peek at her presents,” Natasha said, as you shook your head and tried to retell your lie to Yelena. 
“It was your crazy dog!” You insisted, scooting away from the two sisters.
“Let’s just see, shall we?” Natasha said, reviewing the security camera footage with Yelena.
Just as the footage ended, you made a run for your room.
“Get back here, Y/N!” The two sisters called after you.
“Never!” You shouted, giggling because you knew you were busted.
You closed the door quickly to your room, only to have it opened a second later.
“No! Leave!” You said through giggles, as you backed up against the headboard of your bed.
“You’re in so much trouble, little one,” Yelena said, as the two sisters pounced on you and pinned you to the bed.
“Nohohoho! Lehehet me gohohoho,” you giggled hysterically.
“We’re not even tickling you yet,” Natasha said with a grin.
“Buhuhut I knohohow you wihill,” you giggled, shrieking as Natasha began drilling into your ribs.
“GAAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP,” you screamed, unable to squirm much underneath them.
“I can’t stop because I have to tickle little girls who lie all the time,” Natasha said, listening to the sweet sound of your giggles.
“Me too,” Yelena said, now tickling your feet and joining in.
“NOHOHO IHIHIT’S TOHOO MUHUHUCH,” you cried, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.
“Awww what are you, a little baby?” Natasha teased, worming her hands into your armpits.
You wheezed with laughter, tapping the bed to signal that you surrendered.
The two girls let you have a break, knowing that you were too ticklish to handle them for a long time all at once. 
“So, are you going to tell the truth?” Yelena asked, giving your knee a squeeze.
“No!” You yelped, trying to pull your leg away.
“Liars get tickled~” Yelena said, switching spots with Natasha and squeezing your sides rapidly.
“AHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHO MOHOHORE,” you squealed, arching your back to no avail.
“Admit it,” Yelena said, grinning down at you.
“OHOHOKAY FIHIHINE IHIHI WAHAHAS SNOOHOHOOPING,” you shouted, laughing until you were pink.
“That’s what I thought,” Yelena said, poking your tummy.
“You guys are so rude,” you pouted.
“Aww c’mon don’t act like you don’t love to be tickled,” Natasha teased, as you blushed and didn’t answer.
“It’s late, Y/N, you need to go to sleep,” Yelena scolded playfully. 
“It’s a little too late for that,” Natasha said, as the sun started to rise.
“Well, guess you’ll get to open those presents after all,” Yelena said.
“So you tickled me for nothing?” You asked in disbelief.
“Oh don’t worry, we had a blast,” Natasha said, as you rolled your eyes playfully. 
The three of you headed downstairs to open presents. You eagerly greeted the others downstairs, excited to open presents. You all sat in a circle and took turns opening your gifts. You received some new clothes, a book of your favorite series, a new journal, and some colored pens.
“Alright, let’s get that breakfast going,” Wanda said, in charge of the two kids helping her.
“Do we have to,” you and Peter both whined, wanting to play with and use your new gifts.
“I know you guys want to play that new video game Peter got, but this year it’s our turn to cook,” Wanda said.
“I refuse,” you said cheekily, as Wanda raised an eyebrow at you.
“Is that so?” She asked.
You nodded your head nervously, as Wanda pinned you with her powers immediately.
“No please! I’ve already been tickled,” you pleaded, knowing that this time would be even worse. 
“You can never have too many tickles,” Wanda said, squeezing your hips.
“HAHHAHAHAHAAHA,” you laughed, unable to hold it in.
“You know there’s no escaping this, Y/N,” Wanda said, using her nails to tickle under your chin, making you squeal with laughter.
“Wow, you’re ticklish everywhere,” Wanda teased, as you shook your head in denial.
“STAHAHAHAHAP,” you cried, as Wanda tickled away at your stomach.
“PEHEHETER IHIHISNT HEHEHELPING EITHER!” You cried, trying to avert their attention.
“Hmm, you’re right,” Wanda said, pinning the young boy next to you.
“Steve? Wanna help?” Wanda asked.
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Steve said, switching positions with Wanda. The witch was now by Peter, pinning his arms above his head and tickling his armpits.
“NOHOHOHOT THEHEHERE,” he cried, knowing that his armpits were his worst spot.
“You’re just as much of a troublemaker as Y/N,” Wanda teased, as the poor boy was crying with laughter.
Steve came over to you, giving you a smirk.
“Well well well, what do we have here, Y/N? You just can’t stop causing trouble huh?” Steve asked, going towards your feet.
You groaned in anticipation, curling up your toes to protect them.
“Just get it over with,” you whined.
Steve decided to mess with you, going for a spot you weren’t expecting. He started to tickle your shins and over the tops of your feet, making you jerk out of surprise.
“GAH NO WHY AHAHAA,” you laughed, jumping from the sensation.
“Gotta continue the storyline of you being ticklish everywhere,” Steve said, now scratching behind the back of your knee.
“STAHAHAHAP THAHAHAT TIHIHICKLES,” you shouted.
“That’s the point,” Steve said with a grin.
“Now are you and Peter gonna help with the cooking?” Steve asked, continuing to torment your lower body.
You looked over at Peter, as he had given in after a bit of tickling from Wanda. She was the ultimate ler, but you were also the most stubborn girl on earth, so you were not going to give in.
“Maybe Peter will help, but I won’t,” you said stubbornly, sticking your tongue out at Steve.
“Guess we gotta go for the kill, huh?” Wanda said, as Steve sat on your hips and Wanda sat above your hands.
“OH GOD NO! WAIT! I’LL HELP!” You quickly gave in.
“Hmm, I think we have to make sure,” Wanda said, as she used her magic to tickle all over your neck and started raking her nails rapidly in your bare armpits. Meanwhile, Steve began to wiggle his finger in your belly button, making you shriek with laughter.
“OHOHO MY GOHOHOD STAHAHAP IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAD!” You screamed.
“Yeah? Then we must be doing our job right,” Steve teased, as your face turned bright red from the laughter and embarrassment. 
“IHIHI CAHAHAHANT! HEHEHELP IHIHI GIHIHIVE,” you cried, panting as they finally let you up.
“That’s what you get for being a brat,” they all said, making you feel greatly outnumbered.
“I am not a brat,��� you insisted.
“We know you love being tickled, so the brat role fits you well,” Yelena chimed in, ruffling your hair.
You pouted and would never admit it, but you also knew you couldn’t take anymore tickles, so you decided to go help cook.
That Christmas was one of your favorites since it was the first time you helped cook the traditional breakfast. You looked forward to spending more time with them as the years went on, which also conveniently came with something you loved. Tickles.
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berrys-hide-out · 4 days
Text
Through thunderstorms and arguments- Call for help!
Summary; Peter finds Thor and Loki training and ends up wanting to see the cool move! Too bad the god of thunder has been hanging out too much with his mischievous little brother and things take a hysterical turn.
A/N; I changed a few things from the original ask which was sent by @inneedofsupervision but I desperately hope it turned out to your liking! (Apologies again for the wait! Still recovering 🩷🫂) ENJOY!!! ✨
Warnings; tickles and a lil fancy swearing form Loki!
———————-
It was storming outside, hail clattered against the windows of cars and houses, raindrops fell like someone was dumping buckets of water onto earth and the wind changed the direction of it all every few minutes.
Peter watched in silence as the white pieces fell past the huge windows of the 100th floor of SI. He watched the clouds that sometimes lit up which was followed by crackling thunder.
It was loud, sure. Being so close to the clouds and roof; things always sounded a little louder but the soundproofed walls gave a bit of relief to it all.
The thunder could be unsettling after awhile.. you’d think he’d have gotten used to his sensibilities by now but in truth it wasn’t something that he could just ignore.
His mind wandered as he watched the spectacle, Thor and Loki were currently in the tower..
Thinking of Thor and Loki, where were they anyways? His eyes lifted and flew over the rather quiet common room.
Steve and Bucky were watching TV on the couch, Natasha and Tony sat by the table, the billionaire busy with something on his hologram while the super spy was halfheartedly watching the Tv.
“Where are Loki and Thor?” He asked as his feet took him towards the table. His voice seemed weirdly loud.. It felt almost criminal to disturb the silence.
Natasha looked at him „Probably training while the training room isn’t occupied“ Tony looked up as well „Yeah, pretty sure point break and reindeer games are trying to get along a little better.“ he stated in a bored tone, probably having heard the two gods bickering earlier today.
If Tony didn’t hear them Peter was positive Friday warned him about it.
„Alright I’ll go have a look then.“ „yep, don’t get between them Pete!“ Steve called after him wich earned him a chuckle and a two finger salute „Sure thing captn‘!“ he called before turning around, putting his hands into his pockets and heading off towards the training room.
He was two corners away from his destination when he already heard bickering. Peter chuckled, how can two gods bicker so much? They’ve been at it for hours!
„THOR! Let me down this instant!“ „Brother, stop struggling already or we won’t be able to do get help!“
Peter’s curiosity instantly spiked and he jogged the last steps, head poking into the room.
Sure enough he saw Thor holding Loki up, ready to throw while the younger squirmed uselessly.
„You will not throw me you insolent oaf!“ Loki yelled before getting tossed onto the mats, taking out the smaller ones that were standing up mere seconds before.
„I still hate it.“ Loki grumbled as he sat up. „I find it rather amusing.“ Thor grinned at his brother who sent him a dirty look „no it is not. It’s humiliating.“
Peter sniggered, earning their immediate attention. „Little spider!“ Thor grinned happily „hey kid.“
„heya! That was an awesome move!“ he grinned as he walked in, his grin widened when he saw Loki roll his eyes.
„Indeed! I am glad you’ve decided to join us on the matter! Loki doesn’t seem to be on the same page as us..“ Thor grinned and eyed Loki shortly. Peter nodded animatedly „can you show me? The whole move I mean?“
„I am not doing that again.“ Loki growled at his brother who was already looking at him with expectancy and a playful grin. The boy huffed „aw, why not? It’s such an awesome move!“ he gushed.
Loki squinted at him, seemingly trying to figure out if he was joking or not. Then his eyes caught Thors and he saw his own mischief twinkle right back at him.
Peter was about to ask something else only to gasp when Thor picked him up by sneaking under his arm „Let’s reenact the move together then litte spider!” He grinned.
The boy however could only huff. His feet were slightly off the ground and no matter how far he tried to bend his feet for his toes to reach the ground it just wasn’t enough.
With slight shock and bit of embarrassment he came to realise that was hanging there like a slack sack of potatoes.
An awkward slack sack of potatoes.
He was halfheartedly hanging over Thors neck and slightly his shoulder. The gods hand supported him by the ribs and the other held the arm that was draped over him.
Peter huffed at his predicament “can you lower me slightly? Please?” Loki sniggered at his question and shook his head as he stood up “Don’t worry Peter, it’ll get better” he reassured.
Peter did not feel reassured. The playful gleam in the tricksters eyes and the sly grin did nothing to reassure him- in fact his nerves lit up instantly and he shook his head. “No I’m su-HURE!”
The boy was interrupted by his own squeak and jump when the strong hand squeezed the spot by his ribs and he snapped to look at Thor with wide eyes and a betrayed glare. The god however just grinned down at him and winked.
Peter blushed- they were not actually about to team up on him after bickering the whole day through! Right!?
Peter heard the tricksters dark laugh rumble through his chest- if he wouldn’t have super hearing he’d only see him holding back his amusement.
“You have to stay committed little spider!” Thor announced happily as he nudged Peter’s ribs again, this time with a lot more intent as his knuckles rushed past his ribs.
Peter sputtered a laugh and he forced his legs up quickly to try and curl up. Loki grinned and shared an amused glance with Thor. “ahAhaha! nOhO! ThoHOhor!” The kid squeaked out between laughs.
Thor laughed with him and let up on the tickling. Peter’s legs lowered but before he could shoot Thor a dirty glare Loki walked closer to them “honestly Thor, don’t torture Starks kid” he mused and then squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “You need to call out for help to make it seem authentic”
Peter squinted at Loki “shouldn’t Thor be calling for help? I’m supposed to play the victim!” He argued. He was not about to call for help! Plus! He told Captain Rogers he wouldn’t get between them which basically translates do not get into trouble with them!
Loki clicked his tongue. “Details, details” he waved Peter off and went behind them.
The boy tried craning his neck as much as he could in his position but Loki positively vanished behind them.
“Y-You know what?” Peter blabbed nervously with a small grin “mihister stark said youhu were aharguing today morning-NA-HO!” He squeaked and batted at Lokis hands that were now right by his sides “come on guys I’m nohot calling for help!”
Thor hummed “Let’s help him out then why won’t we Loki?” The god in question sniggered darkly “Oh we definitely should brother”
Peter shook his head but the silly grin on his face only encouraged Thor with his and his brothers shenanigans.
“Nohoooo, come oh-HON! NoHOho!” The boy tensed and pulled his legs up again the second Lokis nimble fingers sprung into action, skittering over his sides over the thin shirt that Pete was now dearly regretting to have worn today.
“Come on Peter, just call for help and we can continue with the move” Thor tried to encourage, Peter cursed internally at the amusement in the gods voice. How dare he!
“Mmhm-noHOho!” He giggled, trying to at least make this hard for the gods by trying to hold his giggles, but alas it was all in vain as Lokis fingers sought out the spot that made him react most.
Peter shook his head and squealed when the trickster dug into his highest rib. “LOHOKIEHEE!” “My, my, seems I’ve found a sweet spot.” The god chuckled into his ear. “EHEhEYEE! nOHOh YOuhUHu HaHAveHEhen’t!” “Hmno? You’re saying there’s a spot worse than… this?” Peter bucked again when the god dug in with a lot more precision then before “NOAHA! IHI DiHIhidn’T SAHAhay ThAHAHat!”
“I don’t know young spiderling! Sure sounded like it!” Thor chuckled as he kept the boy off the ground. It was quite a task with all his squirming. Peter shook his head through bursts of laughter. Loki sniggered and let one of his hand slip to Peter’s hip.
The boy kicked out harshly and hit the poor god of thunder’s shin. The god grunted and hissed, kneeling down slightly. Loki halted before falling into mused chuckling.
“ohoho god IHi’m sohoho sohohorry!” Peter giggled as the god made his theatrics about his shin and let the kid go. Thor rubbed his shin with a soft groan “you have quite the kick little spider!” He goaded.
Peter gave a giddy smile and opened his mouth to say something before the god smirked “but not quite to take down a god yet!” He boasted and jumped the kid.
Peter screeched and grappled with Thor over the mats.
Loki shook his head at their antics. “Really brother? We had him perfectly trapped and great for the move!” He reminded and walked along the mats, watching as Thor gave the giggly kid little chance of winning.
“We still have to encourage the little spider brother! I’m sure this will be beneficial!” The god boasted.
Peter giggled wildly and fended off the gods hands as best he could “NOho! iHIhi’m not cAHalling for help!” Thor sniggered with him, the kid had a soft blush on his cheeks and playfulness was written all over his face. “But you have to! The move won’t be complete otherwise young Stark!”
Peter kicked out when Thor almost managed to pinch his ribs “THoHO-AAH!” He yelled in surprise when his leg was pulled and his knee was squeezed “LOhOKI!” He scolded playfully, sending the god a glare- but the god simply sent him a sly grin- damn his own traitorous smile!
With the short distraction Thor squeezed his ribs. “NAHAO! ThIHIHis IHIs UnfAHAhair! aHAAhAhahA!” Loki chuckled as he traced the boys knee, sending ticklish shocks through his whole system while Thor was on a journey down to his sides. “How do you mortals say, Pete? All is fair in love and war?” The trickster mused and swiped a finger up Peter’s sole at which the boy tugged at his leg harshly.
“nAA-HA! LOhOHOki!- ThOHoHOr! THIHiHIs IhIsnt fAhaHair!” Peter exclaimed again, his hands latching onto Thors wrists- yet he barely pulled at them.
“Cohome on Young spiderling! You just have to call out for help and that’s it” his amusement of the situation grew when Peter shook his head- what a stubborn little mortal..
“Alright.. well then..”
“NAHA! THOHOAHAR! CHEHEAHATEHEHER!” Peter threw his head back, fighting with his instincts to squeeze the god’s hands there which only seemed to make it worse- or try to grapple at them- which resulted in hilarious flailing.
Loki sniggered, but he couldn’t let his brother win this, mischief was his thing after all.
His slender fingers wrapped around Peter’s knee and his fingers scribbled along the backs of them.
The reaction was immediate, Peter’s leg slammed down on the mat only to jump back up with a high pitched yelp. “Oh? Are you hiding something Peter?” Loki mused and Thor let up on his tickles “what have you found brother?” “He- hehe found nohothing!” Peter protested but the two gods ignored him “See here..” Loki said which followed by his fingers squeezing and slightly wiggling into the spot. “NAHAO! LOHOKI! WehEHe can TAHAhalk Ahabout thIHIHIhis!”
The gods sniggered at the volume change each time Loki decided to continue his little game. “Aw, but we did talk Peter. You call for help and this aaaaall stops.” To let the kid talk he let up slightly The boy pouted at the god, his brown locks more disheveled then he’s ever seen them and slightly red cheeks. Loki sighed “I believe, brother, I should teach you a few things on tickling.” He stated, a sly smirk threatening to pull on his face when Peter’s cheeks flushed a tone deeper.
Thor chuckled “alright, have it your way.”
Peter gaped at him. NO WAY were they just AGREEING!
“W-Wait- Lohoki, come ohon we can fihigure this out- look youhu’re gettihing ahalong too! Mahaybe you can make uhup now??” peter blabbed as Loki moved closer and Thor away.
Loki chuckled darkly “your futile attempts of distractions are not working” peter couldn’t help the high pitched anticipatory giggle that slipped him as the god hovered over him.
“Ehe- you know- I-HAY!” Peter almost jumped out of his skin as Lokis hand rushed towards him.
“What happened Pete?” The boys eyes grew wide- oh. Oh.
He huffed and stared challengingly at the god. He’s heard of the wrath of the god of mischief. But.. he could handle it, he’s won Mister Stark’s attacks!
His challenging glare didn’t last long as the mischief practically dripped from the god. “What are you afraid of the tickles?” Loki asked as if it were like any other conversation.
Peter shook his head with a high pitched giggle. “N-no!” “No? So you shouldn’t mind..” Loki stopped above Peter’s stomach- surprised that the boy already flinched away.
Despite himself he moved his hand towards his side and flexed it- Peter, to his delight jumped again and moved closer to the god and away from the hand.
“Peter.” Loki stated and gained the boys attention.
“Whahat?”
“Are you by chance…. Air ticklish?”
.
.
.
“uh oh” muttered Peter in utter disbelief before a steady stream of giggles escaped him. Loki’s collected expression turned to one of pure delight and mischief “oh boy.. this just got a lot more entertaining.”
Peter squeaked when the younger god made claws. “NOhOho!” The boy whined through his flustered and giggly predicament.
Thor suddenly jumped from next to Loki.
“EHEEE!”
The squeal echoed through the training room much to the gods amused and adoration at the boy- the boy himself- as if finally remembering he was free, turned around and tried crawling away.
He squeaked when a strong hand wrapped around his ankle “now hold on little spiderling!” Thor chuckled. Peter laughed at the silliness- before he could however think of how to make this harder for the gods, arms wrapped around his torso “Now I gotcha!” Loki growled and flung the boy back as if he weighted nothing.
Peter laughed without either of them even touching him- “are you laughing at us young Stark!?” Thor asked in disbelief and crossed his arms. “NOhOho!” Peter tried to reassure but failed expertly. Loki sniggered “I believe he is dear brother.. better give him something to laugh about huh?”
Thor grinned “I do believe you’re right brother” he mused.
Loki sniggered “ready to call for help yet Petey?” He muttered into his ear and the boy scrunched up with a barking a laugh “NEhEhEVER!” He declared boldly.
Loki tutted and looked at his brother. “Stark said his thighs and knees are ticklish.”
Thor chuckled at the protest of a shriek that came from Peter which though was quickly drowned by hysterical laughter as Lokis fingers went into his pits.
The god of thunder didn’t wait long for his own entrance and squeezed the boys thigh which, amusingly enough, with each squeeze they gained a higher squeal out of the boy.
Loki chuckled and shook his head, the boy could lean left or right and roll off, he could even put up a fight with his strength.. and yet..
“AHYEHE! OHOKAY!” Peter barked out and the gods let up.
Loki raised an eyebrow “you’ll call for help?” He mused and waited as the boy caught his breath.
Peter stifled most of his giggles before his hand went to squeeze Lokis own side.
To the boys surprise and glee Loki jumped.
The god sent him a warning glare “peter I’d truly advise against that” “why?” The boy grinned up at the god. “May I remind you that I am a god?”
Peter’s own mischief twinkled in his eyes “Thor will probably help me..” he mused. Loki raised an eyebrow “probably?” He mused “my brother is worse than me Buddy.”
Peter’s eyes widened at that “b-but we’ll be two!” He smiled timidly. Loki huffed “Are you going to call for help or not?”
The boy’s shoulders jumped as he chuckled through his nose.
Loki grinned “Unbelievable..” he hushed and looked at Thor. “You know, there’s a specific technique that got Thor to give in when we were children.” He said and watched as his brothers confusion morphed into surprise and glee.
Peter swallowed nervously and giggled “Thihis isn’t one ohof your Ahasgardian things right?” Loki laughed “No, this works all too perfectly on mortals”
Peter shivered at the sly grin. His silly grin fought its way right back onto his face “n-now hold on, no need for drastic- MEASURES!” He yelped when Loki suddenly rapidly squeezed and scribbled his side which sent sparks through his whole body. “HEHEY!” He squeaked and leaned away- falling onto the mats, front first, the gods hand on his back. “Uh-huh- Loki?” Peter asked and hoisted himself onto his elbows as he slowly understood his position- his face would lay awkwardly on the mats if he tried to shield his armpits. But if he kept his face from squeezing onto the mats they’d be open wide.
Loki chuckled at the giddy expression on the boys face. “You gonna call for help?”
Again. Peter shook his head.
It was fair to say that the god was not only surprised at the will to play but also at the stamina of the kid.
“Oh you’re asking for it.” He smirked down at the boy.
Peter squeaked in surprise at the demeanour change but didn’t get to dwell on it as the hands plummeted into his armpits.
“LOHOKIEHEHEEE!” Peter kicked his legs into the mats to try and relieve the tickle shocks even if only just lightly- Lokis nimble fingers found the sweet spot with practiced ease and vibrated on one armpit while on the other he scribbles.
Peter was probably loosing his lil head in the playful moment but the raging storm outside was positively forgotten.
“NAHAHAY! TOHOHOR!” Peter’s new protest made Loki look back and find Thors bold hands tickle the soles of the poor kid.
Chuckles from the door which ripped Lokis attention away from his attack and his hands slowed down enough for Peter to crank an eye open. “MIHIST- EHEY!” The boy scolded through his laughter and turned to look at Thor.
The billionaire in the doorway laughed “alright you two, let the kid up. I still need him today for lab time” Thor chuckled “do not worry stark! You’ll have young Stark with you in no time.” He mused. Loki rolled his eyes and sniggered “you good kid?”
Peter laughed but nodded and pushed Loki playfully “ahabout the move; IHi’m soho on your side- but I aham also so gehetting you back someday”
Loki raised a challenging eyebrow and then slowly, his ‘claws’.
Peter squeaked and rolled away “nohot today!” He laughed and got to his feet, hands in front of his body to protect himself.
The men laughed in choir.
“Loki we should continue training.” Thor stated, full of new enthusiasm. Loki glared at him “we are not doing get help” Thor grinned at him “we should.” Loki frowned “Peter—“
“NOPE! YOU GOT THIS!” Peter yelled with a laugh as he rushed out of the room.
The two gods laughed heartedly at the boys exit with Stark and got up. Maybe they could get along for awhile every now and again.
Meanwhile let’s hope Steve will be just as merciful as mister Stark was on Peter.
“Don’t get in trouble with them, huh?” His mentor asked with his smirk obvious in his voice.
Peter rolled his eyes with an obvious smile and flushed cheeks, his hand going through his disheveled hair.
Never mind..
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tickles-tea · 10 months
Note
shippy poly headcanon:
back when peter was the only one who'd tickle him, miguel could convincingly deny that he liked it, since peter's actually strong/agile enough to get past his defenses… then mj started tickling him too, and it became obvious that he was letting her
(they both tease him about it, but mj especially loves being like "oh no, you poor thing, however will you escape my clutches")
-tickly-tufts
Holy shit I love you
I was already wanting to think of something for the the poly group so this couldn’t be more perfect
But you’re absolutely right- even if he didn’t actually mind it, he’d definitely still put up a fight whenever Peter tried to tickle him and Peter would have to get creative just to get a few good laughs out of him
Even when they weren’t in public, Miguel would get all grumpy, growling out threats or trying to turn the tables
So when Peter catches Miguel backed into the kitchen counter with MJ pinching and poking at his sides, he expects Miguel to flip their places or at the very least grab MJ’s hands
Imagine his face when Miguel just keeps giggling and grabbing at anything but MJ. Covering his face, gripping his hair, holding onto the counter so his legs won’t give out- all complete with whiny little curses and “stopppp” s
Instantly Peter goes from >:0 to >:3c
Miguel can say “I just don’t want to accidentally hurt you!” all he wants but they know the truth 😌
Important note: he blushes like crazy when either of them tease him but there’s just something about MJ’s teases that make him short circuit LOL
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supermarvel-fics · 2 years
Text
Tickletober Day 3: Shriek
fandom: marvel
word count: 1,000
pairing: peter 3 x reader (platonic)
summary: you're not easily scared and peter attempts to prove you wrong
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“You seriously don’t get scared?” Peter asked with an eyebrow raise. “It’s Halloween… it’s supposed to be scary!”
You shrugged before taking a sip of your latte, eyeing Peter in the chair across from you the whole time. “I just don’t scare easily. Horror movies, haunted houses, ‘scary’ corn mazes… they’re just so underwhelming.”
“So, you mean to tell me that you’ve never been scared. Ever. Like no one has ever snuck up behind you and made you flinch?
“Not that I can remember, no.”
You caught Peter’s smirk as he shut his Biology textbook and threw it to the unused sofa beside him. “Challenge accepted.”
“Excuse me?” You spluttered, following his lead by closing your own book.
“I’m going to scare you successfully this year,” He responded while leaning forward in his seat, elbows propped up on his knees. You grinned back at him, almost trying not to laugh.
“Yohou? You’re going to be the one who scares me?”
“I’m sure I can do it if I put my mind to it,” Peter nodded. You chuckled softly, reaching out towards your coffee cup to take another swig.
“Alright. Good luck, then.”
And Peter wasted absolutely no time in trying to complete his mission. After your study session, approximately 30 minutes after the two of you had dropped the conversation entirely, he began with his first attempt. You had your back turned to him as you put away your books and instantly felt more than heard Peter standing behind you.
“BOO!” He shouted close to your ear. You didn’t react, obviously, and snickered when your friend let out a huff filled with defeat.
“Peheter, I felt your breath on my neck. Also, we just got done talking about it, so I kinda knew it was coming. You’re gonna have to be more creative than that,” You told him, nudging his shoulder with yours as you slid past him. “Nice effort, though!”
You had to laugh at his determination. After that day, any time Peter saw you, he’d attempt to scare you. Sneaking up behind you before class, following you to Starbucks, even going as far as breaking into your dorm while you were out and about.
He took the act of being the one to scare you so seriously that he began watching you like a hawk to see if he could find any hints to what made you flinch or squeak. Only problem was that nothing could do that—you were just unable to be frightened.
So, Peter decided that after this time, he’d drop it and admit defeat. He squatted behind the couch in the common area of your dorm waiting for you to pass by. He’d done this exact ruse a few days ago, so maybe it would catch you off guard this time.
A few minutes later, he heard the beep of the door as you scanned your ID and the jingling of your room keys as you walked through the room. Peter held his breath and watched as you walked right past where he was hiding, giving him the perfect opportunity to rush up behind you.
“GOTCHA!” He yelled, grabbing ahold of your sides to pull you back into his chest. Not expecting the sudden contraction of his fingertips, you shrieked, and Peter had a field day with your reaction. “YES! I did it! I told you I’d scare you!”
You forcefully removed his hands from your waist and turned around to scold him. “You didn’t scare me, Peter! You… ugh.”
“Uh-huh, right. Then, what was that little scream you made when I snuck up behind you?” Peter interrogated with an insufferably smug grin on his face. You decided not to gratify him with an answer and instead grunted, walking away from him and towards your dorm room. You fumbled with the keys as Peter scurried after you. “Oh, come on! Is your ego too big to just admit that you finally got scared?”
Sighing, you pushed your door open, trying to slam it shut on Peter, but he kicked it right back open and followed you in. “Yeah, fine, Pete. You scared me. Great job,” You said monotonously, throwing your bag onto your bed. Your back was still facing him, so when his hands found your waist again as he started to reenact the moment, you let out another loud squeal, this time laced with a small giggle.
You arched away from him, you elbows slamming down on instinct. As you whipped around, you caught sight of your friend’s face, only making yours turn red.
“I didn’t scare you…” Peter realized.
“No, you did! You totally got me this time,” You laughed nervously, backing away from him without realizing.
“You don’t get scared. You screamed because I accidentally tickled you, didn’t I?” He asked, inching closer. You gulped and before you got the chance to vehemently deny that you’re even ticklish, Peter lunged and began squeezing at your sides with more intent.
“Peter! Noho, Pehete!” You protested. Twisting away from him, you freed yourself from his grasp and tried running for the door, but Peter took a few long strides forward and once again gripped your waist, pulling you back against his chest and digging his fingers into your ribs. “WAHAHA! NOHO!”
“You may not scare easily, but you are ticklish, so I think I win either way,” He teased you, pinching rapidly up and down your torso. Your knees buckled beneath you and Peter helped you down onto the floor, continuously tickling you to pieces.
“THAHAT’S NOT FAHAHAIR! PEHETER, NO!”
“It’s extremely fair. This is compensation for how much work went into trying to scare you!”
“It’s nohot my FAHAULT THAT YOHOU JUST AREN’T SCAHAHARY!” You bit back, only making Peter wiggle his fingers harder in retaliation. “OHOKAY! WAHAIT! I’M SOHORRY!”
Peter slowed down to a light scratching at the middle of your ribcage, smiling down at you as you squirmed and giggled. “I’ll get you someday.”
“Rihight. Whatever yohou say, Pehete.”
239 notes · View notes
fluffymcu · 1 year
Text
Dating AG!Peter Parker Headcanons
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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
102 notes · View notes
inneedofsupervision · 2 months
Text
Hey Mister Villain
Finally, I can present you the long-awaited Sequel to No Spilling Secrets. I recommend reading No Spilling Secrets first, as that is relevant for understanding the context of this story.
Summary: After getting out of the claws of Clint, Bucky, and Sam, Peter can finally take a rest. Or can he? A single glance at Mr. Stark is enough to let the teen know his mentor waits for an explanation, and it better be a good one. He really should have thought about how to get out of this one, didn't he?
"Care to explain why you hacked Friday, Peter."
Oh fuck.
"Not the words I would use, but that sums it up well enough."
The words had tumbled out before Peter could stop himself. At least May and Steve weren't here to catch that slip-up. Mr. Stark merely raises an eyebrow, leveling the teen with a glance. The man is still waiting for an explanation that Peter is more than dreading to give to his mentor. Heck, Peter endured the dishing out of the bird bros and Bucky. He couldn't fold now just because Mr. Stark came off as a little intimidating. Speaking of Mr. Stark, said man stands stern-faced in front of him, arms crossed over his chest as he stares down at Peter in a voiceless dare to keep silent. 
Okay, cross that. Mr. Stark is more than a little intimidating. 
But still, Peter has come too far to spill. His mentor wouldn't let him live that down, not after creating a whole archive of Peter's embarrassing moments. It is pouring fuel straight into the fire.
Mr. Stark steps closer.
With one hand casually placed in the pocket of his three-piece suit while the other pulls down his glasses, the man glances over the rim. Peter gulps. He has to lean his head back to meet his eyes. Mr. Stark studies him for a moment, and Peter wonders what exactly the man is searching for when the sound of the man sniffing catches his attention.
Mr. Stark straightens, pushing his glasses back up.
"These three didn't manage to, but I know how to make you talk, Parker. Don't let it come to that." Peter lets out a huff in protest when his mentor suddenly pushes him, causing him to lie flat on the bench. The teen stares up at the older man in surprise before Peter's face contorts into a grimace as he finally registers Mr. Stark's words.
"You saw all of that?" Peter asks, hoping Mr. Stark would break out into that smug trademark grin, laughing as he pats him on the shoulder and tells him he was only messing with him. Mr. Stark, of course, didn't give Peter that. Instead, he is met with a slight tilt of the head as Mr. Stark gives him an unimpressed look. 
"This is my tower kid. What did you expect?"
The vigilante lets his shoulder sag in defeat. Of course, Mr. Stark watched the whole spectacle. Where is that hole in the ground to bury yourself? It's never there when you need it.
A finger flicks against his forehead.
"Don't go all kicked-puppy on me, kid. You wouldn't be in this predicament if you hadn't cracked the tower's system and left a security breach as wide as the Brooklyn Bridge. You bought this on yourself."
"Maybe that wouldn't happen if there was a better security system," mutters the teen under his breath. 
"Excuse me, what was that?" Peter's mouth shut instantly at the look Mr. Stark was giving him. How many times did he manage to piss his mentor off today? According to Mr. Starks expression, it was at least one time too many. Sensing that this wasn't going in a favorable direction, Peter made a drastic decision. 
He needs to escape. 
Now.
The man standing in front of the bench raises an eyebrow as the teen suddenly angles his legs up, bringing them close to his chest and bending his back, body forming an alarmingly accurate globular form. Without his trademark suit, the kid always seemed so inconspicuous it was easy to forget his powers and traits, counting in that inhuman flexibility. The kid tilts sideways, beginning to roll down the bench with an easiness that left the man wondering if Peter had done this before, the thought of that being a possibility alone giving him a mild headache.
"What- kid, you are not some overgrown roly-poly. What are you doing?"
Skillfully ignoring the bewildered tone of his mentor, Peter tenses his muscles while bracing for the fall, tilting his arms to avoid landing on his still-bound wrists. Mr. Stark takes off his sunglasses to pinch the bridge of his nose, tired of Peter's antics, before pocketing them in his breast pocket.
"Kid, you're not getting away without talking about this."
The older man rolls his eyes as Peter ignores him, the latter robbing his way forward on the floor, apparently on a mission to put the two super-soldiers in their team to shame. But it still wasn't quick enough. Peter wriggles forward as if his life depended on it, blatantly ignoring the pair of shoes moving at the same pace next to his head as Mr. Stark walks reversely next to him, hands folded behind his back as he looks down at the teen with mild amusement.
"Having fun, kid? How's the air down there?"
The engineer shakes his head when he doesn't get an answer, not even a sarcastic or snappy remark from his mentee. The latter keeps wriggling with a determined look towards the door still ten meters away. "And Rhodey calls me stubborn. Peter, kid, come on. Stop being silly." 
"Upfh!"
A tiny yelp escaped Peter's lips when he fell forward, courtesy of the polished dress shoe that pulled on the leg he had put on the ground in an attempt to stand up, only to fall flat on his stomach. 
"Come one, Peter. This starts to get boring, doesn't it."
The teen doesn't need to see the man know that Mr. Stark is most likely rolling his eyes at him as he continues ignoring him, only to further shuffle forward on the floor. 
"Friday, be a dear and give me and Mr. Parker some privacy."
Peter couldn't decide what let his heart beat faster, Mr. Starks words or the faint click of the door locking shut. 
"Mr. Stark!"
The boy's eyes widen as the dress shoe from before pushes under his stomach. He gets flipped onto his back, gazing up at Mr. Stark standing above him with a raised eyebrow and a corner of his lip turned up in unsuppressed smugness. 
Peter sucks in a breath at the sight.
"Mr. Stark, you look like a supervillain right now."
The man's lips qurik up as he strokes his clean-cut goaty. 
"If it takes a supervillain to end this nonsense, I might as well adapt to that role."
"Mr. Stark, no!"
It doesn't take a lot for the man to kneel and grab the squirming boy's wrists, pinning them over his head with one hand.
"Are you ready to talk, Spiderman?"
Peter feels the adrenaline kicking in as his lips twitch upwards in anticipation, his eyes focused more on Mr. Starks free hand than the man's face. Mr. Stark notices the glance at his hand. 
"You see this, webslinger?" asks Mr. Stark with a cold-toned voice that Peter hasn't heard the man using with anyone other than the press on a few occasions when reporters ask some too-invasive questions. He had even pulled the purple-tinted glasses back out and put them on, jumping at the chance to act like an actual villain, and Peter could only stare up at the man, feeling flabbergasted. 
Sure, Mr. Stark could act playful. 
But those mods were usually portrayed through a headlock with an easy way out, hair ruffling, and tons of jokes and banter. Occasionally, Mr. Stark tickles him during movie nights when Peter gets a little too sassy for the man's liking, ending with the teen nearly rolling down the couch giggling. Those moments usually last only a few seconds before Peter crawls back on the couch with Mr. Starks arm thrown over his shoulder, leaning against the man's side. Therefore, it was hardly surprising that Peter was a tad perplexed at the threat of getting tickled by his mentor. The latter seemed overly confident in getting Peter to talk, which results in the teen being curious and absolutely terrified at once. At least Mr. Stark didn't have super hearing, or he might have known just how effectively nervous his words alone were making Peter, going by how his heart was racing behind his ribcage. 
Unaware of the conflicting emotions Tony has caused to tumble around his mentee's head, he continues playing his villain act with a worryingly amount of perfection. The man holds his free hand up for the teen to see, moving his fingers down one after another in a quick motion like some cheap magician before pulling a bunny out of his top hat.
"This is the only tool needed to get you chirping, Spidey," continues the man, looking at his hand as if it were some weapon he had built and was particularly proud of. It leaves Peter gulping heavily.
"You might ask yourself why this," Mr. Stark waves with his hand, "is the way to break you. Well, let me elaborate, my wall-crawling little friend."
Peter opens his mouth to interrupt the cliche of the villain explaining his evil master plan in front of the bound hero. He gets silenced by a raised eyebrow and quickly clamps his lips shut, letting Mr. Stark have his moment.
"I happen to stumble over some interesting information about you, Spiderling. Some would even say it is a bit of a weakness."
Oh gosh, Peter didn't like the way Mr. Stark was grinning down at him at all. The hairs on his neck begin to rise at the sight. Although his subconsciousness was aware of the lack of a threat, Peter's brain couldn't stop the funny feeling of anticipation from accumulating inside him, leaving his muscles tense as he could do nothing but wait for something to happen. It feels like just before his spidey sense kicks in, but without the wave of anxiety rolling over him. At this point, Peter wishes Mr. Stark would get over it, but the thought of asking the man to do something leaves the tips of his ears red in embarrassment. He feels like a child all over again, becoming flustered over something silly, like the prospect of getting tickled.
"From what I gathered, there are parts of your body which, despite your genetic altering, are rather-" Mr. Stark leaves a short pause between the following words as his lip twitches upward into a smug grin, "delicate."
Mr. Starks free hand shots downward. 
Peter presses out a squeaky "noho!" while bringing his legs up to his chest to block the attack, eyes squeezing shut on instinct. 
But nothing happens. 
Peter lingers in that curled-up position, opening his eyes slightly to squint over his knees. The teen meets the highly amused grin of Mr. Stark, who wears the same expression as he does when he gets the affirmation of one of his more advanced calculations being correct, an expression of pure smugness. 
"A bit skittish, are we?"
Before Peter could even think of an answer, Mr. Stark's hand found a way between his pulled-up legs and his middle, fingers digging without hesitance into his stomach. The sudden attack caught Peter off guard, the laughter pouring out instantly.
"Mr. Stahahark! Thahahahat's plahaying dihirty!"
The man tilts his head at his mentees' words, the latter trying to press his knees closer to his middle, but that did little to hinder the man from tweaking his sides, grinning at the little shriek it earns him. 
"Oh, I didn't know this counts as playing to you. Might as well as much as you are enjoying yourself."
"I'm nohoht enjohohyinh anythIHIHng!" 
Mr. Stark rolls his eyes and switches spots, his fingers working quickly on the teen's stretched-out underarms. Peter kicks his legs out at the ticklish jolt when blunt nails softly scratch over the fabric of his shirt that does little to protect his sensitive armpits. His laughter changes into cackling, and he tugs on his bound arms, actually managing to bring them down. 
He only hears the click of a tongue, having shut his eyes when his armpits got attacked. He rolls on his side as soon as the tickling stops, trying to escape the attack, but gets stopped by a hand on his shoulder, effortlessly pulling him onto his back again. Not a second later, two hands are shoved up into his underarms, and begun to explore the spot, meticulously working on searching for weak spots. As soon as he found them, Mr. Stark kneads with his thumbs into the muscles, letting Peter jump with a squeak before bursting into another wave of loud laughter.
"NOHOO PLEAHAHASE! MR. STAHAHAHARK. Nohohot thehehere! I- I canahahan't ahahaha. I cahahahn't staAHAND ihiht, pleahashe nohohho!"
"That's unfortunate, as I don't show mercy to any of my enemies. And you, Spiderman, earned the privilege to stand on the top of my hit list."
He grins down at the teen who has his arms pressed to his side as much as his tied wrists allow it, body wriggling from side to side to avoid his hands, but Tony's fingers are following, never leaving up to pinch and flutter over all the places that bring out the sound of panic-laced giggles. 
"No! No! Nonononono! ACK NOHO MR. STAHAHARK, NOHOHOHO!"
"Hm? What's this? Spiderman has a ticklish belly?"
Peter manages to sends a glare at his mentor. "I doho nohoht! J-just l leahaheve ihit alohohohne. Mr. Stahark, I sweaAHAHR, I- ohmygohohod dohohohnt!"
Peter lets out a high-pitched squeal as a finger dips into his belly button. His laugh goes silent for a few seconds, during which he arches his back as the ticklish feeling overwhelms him before he deflates into a heap of hiccupy giggles, begging Mr. Stark to do anything but please let his belly button alone. The man smirks down at the blushing teen. Tony would lie if he said he did not find Peter's reaction absolutely endearing. 
"Now, that's just adorable. I almost feel bad having to end you."
"Youhuhu ahahre eheh- evil!"
"I beg to differ, Spidey. This -" Tony worms his finger into Peter's navel, wriggling it around teasingly and earning himself a snort followed by feet drumming against the floor behind him as the kid trashes around madly 
"isn't evil. I'll show you what's really evil."
Out of breath and lying on his side, Peter, at first, didn't register what was happening, too busy to get back to pumping air into his lungs. When he finally glances up at what Mr. Stark is doing, the man is already gathering his feet in a headlock and pulling his tie around his ankles. Peter's eyes widened. He was about to yank his legs out of the hold, and he certainly would have managed to, but at that moment, Mr. Stark had already tightened the piece of clothing, successfully binding his legs. After giving it a closer thought, Peter's panic begins to subdue. A tie was no match for his strength. He could easily snap it if he wanted to. 
"Before I forget it, that tie is a Christmas present from Pepper's parents."
Mr. Stark broke out in loud laughter at the sheer look of betrayal Peter sent his way.
"You are a monster, Mr. Stark."
Peter regrets the words as soon as his mentor grins at him before pushing him over, forcing the teen to lay on his stomach and pull his feet facing upward onto his lap.
"Finally, you are aware of the gravity of the situation, Spidey."
While talking, he let a single finger run down the arch of Peter's foot, grinning at the teen's toes curling up and the whole-body jolt the action brought. He repeats the action on Peter's other foot, getting the same reaction, which only encourages the man to let all his fingers, at once, drag over the wiggling soles. The feet in his lap squirm just as the rest of the teen trashes on the floor like an angry caterpillar, laughing his head off, occasionally shrieking when Tony pulls his toes back to scribble under them. 
"NO! Nohohot the toes! Pleahase, anythihing buhut thahat."
Mr. Stark let up, giving the teen a short break.
"Not the toes, you say? Do you mean these toes? These ticklish little toes right here?" He takes one of them between his fingers, shaking them a little while speaking, but that is apparently enough to throw Peter into a giggle fit and try kicking him. 
"Well, then I have to let these toes be. And tickle these instead."
True to his word, Mr. Stark left Peter's right foot in peace, only to jump onto the left one, resuming his relentless attack.
"ACK! I sahahaid NOT the toehes!"
"And since when do I listen to what my enemy tells me? Huh, Spidey, since when do we do that?" he teases the kid, letting up from his feet to pinch above his kneecaps. Peter shrieks and kicks his legs out as he laughs loudly, managing to roll onto his back. He quickly sets his legs up to press his soles against the gym floor, preventing Tony from getting a hold of them.
"You're trying to be smart about this? Well, what do you do about this then?"
Without pausing, Mr. Stark takes hold of the teen's wrist and softly but firmly presses them against the teen's chest to get them out of the way before pulling his shirt up, revealing his tummy. 
Peter's eyes widen. He couldn't move much with his feet sticking to prevent whatever Mr. Stark was planning. He had an idea, but surely Mr. Stark wouldn't do something as childish as that.
Right?
Peter screams before hysterical giggles take over after the first raspberry is placed on his stomach.
"Nahaha, stahahahap. Nohot fahair, ihihihi thihihs isn't fahahahahair Mr. Stark!"
"Anything is fair in a fight with your enemy. Even this."
Mr. Stark places another long-lasting raspberry, making sure to shake his face into Peter's stomach as that elicits just the most adorable squeal he had ever witnessed from the teen.
"Now, what do you say, Spidey? Are you ready to fess up?"
Mr. Stark takes in the sight of his red-faced mentee with something akin to fondness. Peter's hair is messy from shaking his head from side to side, his chest heaving from laughing, and a wide grin spreads over his features. The teen surprises him as he squints at him from a position on the ground, a determined look on his face.
"Is that all you've got?"
Mr. Stark raises an eyebrow.
"Well, you brought this on yourself."
His head rushes down again, sending the teen into another ticklish frenzy. By the end of it, tears of mirth are gathering in the corner of Peter's eyes, which were Tony's clue to give up. Apparently, Peter didn't think his mentor would give up just yet, as he couldn't believe it when his hands and feet were free to move again.
"You're letting this go?" Peter stares wide-eyed at his free hands before directing his puzzled look at Mr. Stark, who flattens the wrinkles in his suit. 
"As you are so determined to not let a word lose about it, I will let it slide." He sighs at the bewildered expression Peter sends him.
"I trust you, Peter. Whatever you have done must have been important, and I trust you would tell me if it wasn't, alright?"
Oh wow, now Peter feels like an idiot. 
"Ehm, Mr Stark?"
The man in question glances at the teen, the latter rubbing the back of his neck with his eyes cast on the ground. Peter pulls his legs to his chest, biting on his lips as he wraps his arms around his knees, wanting nothing more than to be swallowed by the ground. He made such a big deal out of nothing, and now he has to admit to that and no other than Mr. Stark too. 
His fingers tighten into the fabric of his pants before he finally finds the courage to confess to the man.
"I did it because I was embarrassed."
The words came out mumbled as Peter pressed his face into his knees.
"I didn't quite catch that, Peter."
Using his name and not some nickname meant Mr. Stark had caught onto the mood. The man slowly steps closer, making only a bit of a show of sitting beside Peter and muttering about his joints.
Peter licks his lips, glancing at Mr. Stark before directing his eyes onto a stain on his jeans before repeating himself.
"I was embarrassed. Do you remember that folder, emh, the- the one where you let Friday save all that dumb stuff that I did? In the lab? Well, I know you like to tease me about that, and I usually don't mind, and I don't want to come off as whiny. I know everyone teases everyone on the team, and that's cool, yeah. But, you know, sometimes, I-" Peter stops to take a deep breath. Mr. Stark keeps sitting next to him, listening in silence, and while Peter is thankful for it, he still can't look at the man.
"Sometimes I get this fear that you'll show that stuff to the others, and they'll make fun of me. I know that shouldn't bother me. I'm not a little kid or anything. But this stuff that happens in the lab, I don't mind you seeing me do dumb stuff because, well, that's you Mr. Stark, and I trust you, like sure you'll think I'm silly, but when it's you, I kinda don't mind that? But if the others know I blow up the lap three times a week, that makes me kinda uncomfortable because everyone always calls you, Dr. Banner, and me the smart ones, but what will they think of me when they see all the messes I produce daily? I'm supposed to be smart and not blow stuff up and- and stumble over stuff when I'm literally Spiderman and yeah, I guess I'm insecure about that. I'm really sorry I hacked into Friday to prevent more footage from being taken, Mr. Stark. That was dumb, and I should have known that it was a bad idea, really."
Peter lifts his head, finally meeting Mr. Starks eyes, who had been patiently waiting for him, witnessing him stumble over his words. 
"I'm really sorry, Mr. Stark." Peter's voice grew quiet, close to a whisper. 
He watches Mr. Stark running a hand over his face, a sigh escaping the man, and it causes Peter to tighten to hold on to his knees. He is taken by surprise at the weight of an arm thrown over his shoulder before he gets pressed into a warm body, melting into Mr. Starks side as the older man pulls him closer.
"Peter, I want to apologize for making you feel that way."
Peter opens his mouth to protest but gets cut off by a hand squeezing his shoulder.
"Uh uh, broadcast break for the Spiderling." The teen huffs in light amusement, and Tony takes it as his sign to go on. 
"I want to apologize for taking it as far as it causes you to feel like you had to do something on your own rather than talk to me about it. I would have never shown it to anyone, but I should have considered that it could make you uncomfortable. I'll delete everything and stop Friday from saving further videos, alright?"
"You would do that for me, Mr. Stark?"
"Of course. I might be an asshole most of the time,"
"Language."
Tony raises an eyebrow at the rude interjection. His hand slips down to poke the teen in the side as a warning, which earns him a giggle.
"but I want you to feel comfortable and know you can trust me. That you can trust anybody on the team, okay?"
Peter nods with a small smile playing on his lips.
"Hey, Mr. Stark?"
"Yes?"
Peter grins up at the man.
"I'm really glad you're not a villain."
Mr. Stark squints at him before a sly smirk appears on his face.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Peter. We still haven't talked about the consequences of you creating a giant security breach."
Before Peter could crawl away, Mr. Stark had already slung an arm around the teen's middle, and for a third time that day, Peter's laughter echoed throughout the gym, this time a little brighter than before.
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