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inneedofsupervision · 11 days

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So, you got Detention

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

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

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

It began with oversleeping.

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

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

"Are those capers?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Parker, Thompson! Detention!"

"Fuck you, Parker."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, Pete. How was school?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The silence only lasts a few seconds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You've got detention?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You shot PSAs? They still do these?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Last warning, Pete."

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you following the rules, Steve?"

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

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

"Sorry, Mr. Stark!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn't get very far.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks, Clint."

"No problem, Cap."

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

"Hey! Stohop it!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Sohohomebody hehelp!"

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

"I hahahete you, Bihihirdman 2!"

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

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

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

"NOHOHOTHING, IT'S NOTHINIHIN!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Buck, a little help here?"

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

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

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

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

"We're not done yet, Queens."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve raises an eyebrow in question.

Peter grins at him.

"Some Captain America PSAs."

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

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 21 days

Text

Hangry

Word count: ~2,000

Pairing: Steve x reader and Bucky (platonic), no pronouns used

Warnings: Just a lot of fluff. Mild cursing.

It's been a year and a half since my last posted works! I'm VERY out of practice 😅 I'm trying to work on some smaller prompts on my list while I get myself back into writing and continue working on the Loki blip in the universe prompt. It's not my best, but I hope you enjoy in any case!

This was based on a Prompt for Steve x reader as well as a prompt where reader and Bucky bug Steve while he's making a public appearance.

“Tell us, Captain, sir - how did the Avengers manage to track down the villain’s hideout this time?”

“Well, good sir - we have state-of-the-art technology that allows us to track electronic signals from thousands of miles away…”

“Ugh, he is such a ham!” you muttered to Bucky under your breath as you observed Steve from a distance. “We’re never going to make it to the store if he keeps stopping every time a reporter tries to chat him up!”

“Steve can’t resist bragging about us,” Bucky chided, nudging you with his elbow.

“Yeah, well… some of us are hungry!”

You huffed and folded your arms across your chest in annoyance, trying to catch the reporter’s eye with your scowling face, but she was far too enamored by the star-spangled captain to pay you any mind. How had a simple grocery run for ice cream turned into a twenty-minute interview with the press??

“I swear, I’m gonna go drag him away from that reporter by the ear if he doesn’t stop talking in the next 60 seconds,” you grumbled.

“Why do that when we can mess with him instead?”

You turned to look at Bucky, who had a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Go on…”

He smirked, shooting you a wink. “Watch and learn.”

You watched silently as Bucky meandered casually toward where Steve stood speaking with the reporter and her photographer. Steve was none the wiser to his friend approaching from behind.

“… but the serum isn’t the only thing that makes us heroes. It takes a whole load of grit and determina-HAY-tion-!”

Steve flinched as his best friend subtly reached up and pinched his side mid-sentence, effectively silencing him. The captain recovered quickly, though, chuckling nonchalantly as he flashed Bucky a look. He continued on with his sentence after that, refusing to acknowledge what just happened.

“Wait - Steve is ticklish??” you whispered incredulously as Bucky returned to your side.

“Very. Why does that surprise you?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed the serum eliminated weaknesses like that.”

Bucky chuckled. “Nah - if anything it made it worse.”

“Oh-ho, I’ve got to try this for myself!”

You quietly paced up behind the blabbing soldier, pretending you were casually walking past to avoid drawing attention from passerby. As you stepped by him, you reached out and swiftly dug your fingertips into his ribs for less than a second. Steve choked on his words and whipped his head around instinctively. You ducked out of his field of vision and prodded his other side.

“Excuse me,” Steve requested politely, turning around as nonchalantly as possible to find you standing behind him with a guilty grin on your face. “Can I help you?”

“I just came to remind you that we have somewhere we have to be,” you stated sweetly.

“Yes, but it isn’t urgent,” he muttered.

“Oh, I think you’ll find it to be very urgent, actually,” you whispered, shooting him a cheeky wink. With a long, drawn-out sigh, Steve turned to the reporter.

“My apologies, ma’am. Duty calls.”

You saw Bucky clap a hand over his mouth and nose to cover the snort that burst from his nares. Trying hard not to openly roll your eyes in front of the reporter, you nodded in the direction of the grocery store and began marching purposefully toward your destination, with Steve following in your wake.

“You two are infuriating,” Steve grumbled once you were out of earshot from the reporter.

“Excuse me - I just want to go get my ice cream and head back home to eat it,” you countered. “You’re the one who decided to schmooze with the first person who asked you about your superpowers.”

“I’m just trying to maintain good public relations. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Ugh, no. I hate talking about myself.”

The three of you bickered amicably the entire way to the store. It hadn’t ended by the time you’d made it back to the tower kitchen and dropped your grocery bags on the counter.

“I’m just saying - it wouldn’t kill you to wear a hat or something to hide your face from reporters when we’re just trying to go to the store,” you griped, shrugging your sweatshirt off your shoulders and hanging it on the back of one of the kitchen stools.

“It wouldn’t kill you to try to be friendly to strangers every once in a while,” Steve retorted.

“Excuse me - I am a very friendly person! I’m just selective about it.”

“Friendly as an angry porcupine, sure.”

You gasped indignantly. “Are you saying I’m sharp with people??”

“You’re just a little… prickly.”

“Ooh, now that’s an insult,” Bucky hummed sarcastically.

“You’re just as bad, you know. Forget porcupines - you’re like a venomous sea urchin or something,” Steve shot back at his friend. You snorted.

“Steve… you’ve really got to work on your teasing skills,” you chuckled. “A ‘sea urchin?’ Really?”

“I could just take your ice cream”

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

Steve held your gaze for a moment, eyes darting briefly to the bag on the counter between you with the ice cream inside. You lunged for the bag handle, but Steve predicted your move, snatching it out of your reach before you could get a hand on it.

“Damnit, Steve!! Give it back!” you whined, rounding the counter to swipe for the grocery bag. He turned his back to you, maintaining a barrier between you and the prize. “Bucky! Help me out here!”

“Nah, this is pretty funny to watch,” Bucky chuckled, snickering as you swatted at Steve’s arm.

“Yeah but your ice cream is in there too!”

Bucky sighed. “You make a fair point. Steve, buddy, give it back.”

Steve snorted. “You’ve been just as much a pain in my rear today! Why would I give it back to you either?”

You gasped dramatically, catching Bucky’s eye. “Are you gonna let him talk to you like that?”

“‘Course not!”

Without warning, Bucky lunged at his super soldier friend, tackling him to the floor. The bag of ice cream slipped from Steve’s grasp in his surprise, which you quickly snatched up before he could regain the wherewithal to take it back. With a triumphant shout, you tore the cover off your pint of ice cream and dug a spoon out of the drawer, swiping a scoop off the top layer and shoving it in your mouth with a contented sigh.

“Mm… finawwy,” you mumbled with your mouth full. Swallowing, you pointed your spoon accusatorially at Steve where he was currently trying to shove Bucky off himself. “You know, you’ve been a pain in my rear all day. You deserved this - it’s nice to see someone teaching you a lesson.”

“You two are pains in my rear every day!” Steve huffed as he grasped at Bucky’s shoulders and pushed.

“You did not just say that!” you gasped dramatically.

“Yeah, how dare you!” Bucky added, pinching at Steve’s side for emphasis.

“Bahah- Bucky, don’t start this,” Steve warned as he grasped his friend’s wrists to still his hands.

“Ooh! Wait!” You set your ice cream and spoon down on the counter beside you. “I want a go! Bucky, hold him there for a minute.”

“Whahat??” Steve laughed in surprise, a nervous edge to his voice.

“Sure!” Bucky offered, ignoring his friend’s protests as he maneuvered his wrists from Steve’s grasp and swiftly pinned his arms to the floor a few inches from his sides. “Quick, before he gets free!”

"On it!" You crouched down beside the super soldiers as Steve tugged against Bucky's grip. Without waiting to listen to Steve's protests any further, you began to scribble your fingertips into his exposed sides and ribs rapidly. You heard a thump behind you as Steve kicked his heel against the floor in protest, now pulling more frantically to escape his best friend's hold.

"HA-HEHEY! Cut it ohout!!"

"Nah. I deserve a little reward for tolerating you all day," you snickered, prodding at his belly. "Hey, Buck - where should I get him next?"

"Ohh, definitely under his arms," he suggested with a smirk. You pinched your way up his ribcage before slotting your hands into the narrow space between his biceps and his upper ribs. Bucky adjusted his grip to pry his friend's arms away from his sides as he attempted to clamp them down to limit the space under his arms.

"BUCKY!! Let me go-HO-HO this I-HI-INSTANT!" Steve demanded.

"No can do, buddy. I'm enjoying watching you get taken down a peg."

"DAHAMNIT BAHARNES!!"

"Oof, language Steve!" you teased, digging your fingers into the soft spot under his arms. "Where else is he ticklish?"

"The spot on his stomach right under his ribs - that'll really get him good." Steve nearly managed to slip his wrist from Bucky's grasp, but he quickly shifted his grip once again. "Better do it quick - I can't hold him much longer."

"Say no more." You pulled your hands free from under Steve's arms and danced your fingertips across the muscle-clad skin of his abdomen just under his ribcage as Bucky suggested. He threw his head back with a heavy stream of laughter at your touch, arching his back against the floor in desperation. It was only another moment before he finally succeeded in escaping Bucky's grasp.

Steve sat up swiftly, a playful but menacing gleam in his eye as his gaze immediately landed on you.

"Oh-ho, shit!" You scrambled to get to your feet to make your escape, groaning defeatedly when you felt a strong set of arms wrap around your waist and yank you backward.

“You really think I’d let you get away with that?” Steve asked rhetorically as he tightened his arms around your midsection to hold you in place.

“W-wait, Steve, we can- ahaha nohoho!” Your protests were cut short as Steve’s fingers kneaded into your sides. “Bucky! Hehehelp!!”

“Nuh-uh. You’re on your own, my friend.” The infuriatingly unhelpful super soldier waltzed over to the counter to retrieve his ice cream, planting himself atop the countertop and digging in while observing the two of you wrestling on the floor below.

“USELEHESS!!” you cried, attempting futilely to pry Steve’s hands off your sides.

“Nice try. You should know better than to mess with me by now,” Steve teased. He loosened his grip slightly to scratch at your belly. A rumbling laugh erupted in his chest when you screeched in protest and doubled over, suddenly much more frantic. “Oh, what’s this?”

“DAHAMNIT STE-HEE-HEVE!” Your grip on his hands was far too weak to even budge them now - not that you’d had any hope of succeeding before your muscles had weakened from his tickling. You leaned more heavily into him as you succumbed to laughter. He responded by lowering you down to lay on the floor beside him, freeing both hands to dart randomly around your sides and stomach. Weakly, you tapped your palm on the floor beside you in surrender. Steve threw in a few more exceedingly ticklish light scratches along your belly before relenting in his revenge.

“That’ll teach you,” he teased with a grin, offering you a hand to help you off the ground. You grasped your abdominal muscles that were now aching from laughter.

“I-hi… I’ll probably still mess with you,” you admitted breathlessly. Steve made a noise of protest in his throat and reached over to pinch your side, but you swatted his hand away. “Noho more! You’ll kill me!”

“So dramatic.” He rolled his eyes. “Here - here’s your ice cream. Hope it melted while you were tormenting me.”

“Harsh!” You snatched it from his hand and stuck out your tongue, then turned to look at Bucky. "And you - you were zero help, thank you."

"Hey! I held him down for you! I was very helpful, in my personal opinion."

The three of you went right back to your friendly bickering session, as though nothing had happened. Any outside might wonder how you could all be friends, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

#steve rogers x gn!reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #ticklish!reader #ticklish!steve

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valiantphantomangel · 5 months

Text

The Party

You slowly opened your bedroom door, cringing as it made a low creaking sound, you looked around to see if anyone would come out of their room and sighed in relief when that wasn't the case.

Shoes and bag in your hand as you sneaked through the halls in your best clothes, hair up and light make up on, trying your best to stay as quiet as possible.

The ding of the elevator alerted you that someone was coming and you quickly ducked behind a corner, hoping that it was someone who wouldn't recognize you.

But low and behold, there stepped out of the elevator the three people you didn't want to see the most, The God Of mischief, The Winter Soldier and Captain America. Aka the three people who would never let you go to a party like the overprotective guys they were.

"Are you sure she's here?" Bucky asked as he looked around the hall.

"Yeah, Stark said he saw her on the camera's looking all dressed up" Steve answered as he put his hands on his hips.

You slowly started to sneak out, trying to remain as quiet as possible as you tip toe into the opposite direction.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice you Y/N?" Loki chuckled as he turned around to face you.

Your eyes widen as you come to a hold, turning around to see them looking at you.

"Go back to bed and you'll only get a lecture" Steve suggested.

"Never" you grinned before sprinting away.

You heard the thundering of footsteps behind you as you ran like your social life depends on it, luckily you also had a gift and that was a mutated super soldier serum that you got as a child, the team was aware of it but never tested it to its full ability.

"God damnit she's fast"! Bucky exclaimed behind you as he nearly ran into Steve who shouted "Language"!! at him.

Your 'ahhhhhhh' echoed through the halls, stopping for a second and then continuing loudly, making it almost look like a chase scene from a Disney movie.

You quickly rounded a corner before running straight into a brick wall, well it felt like a brick wall but was instead Loki waiting there for you.

He immediately trapped you a bear hug before throwing you over his shoulder "Hey put me down!!" You yelled with a laugh as you punched his back.

"Now now darling no need to be so aggressive" Loki smirked as he carried you back to the other two who were waiting there with wicked grins on their face.

"You are in big trouble young lady" Steve chuckled as Loki carried you to the couch and threw you on to it gently, immediately straddling your waist with a mischief smirk on his face.

"Wipe that stupid smirk off of your face" You said accusingly as you squirmed underneath him.

"How about no?" He grinned before tasering your sides and blowing a raspberry on your neck.

You let out a squeak before laughing your head off, suddenly feeling a pair of fingers scribbling on the soles of your feet.

"God Damnit AHHHHAHAHAHHA" you screamed with laughter as you wiggle around now also feeling someone squeezing your knees.

"Steve she said a bad language word" Bucky said with a faux gasp as he continued to trace your soles.

"I'm never going to escape that" Steve muttered before laughing and squeezing your thighs.

It was God Damm torture, Loki obviously knew what he was doing as he expertly digged into your ribs.

"I'm actually quite hungry" he said with a grin before leaning down and blowing a good raspberry on your tummy right next to your belly button.

"GHAHHAHAHHAHA" you screamed in hysterical laughter as you trashed around.

"Have you learned your lesson doll?" Bucky asked as he wiggled his fingers on your toes.

"YESHAHAHAH"!!!!

"And what is it?"

"DONT SNEAK OUTHIHIHIHI" you laughed breathless as your face turned a little red.

Loki chuckled fondly and let up, same for the other two and helped you sit up as the remaining giggles left your lips.

"You know you are absolutely beautiful and adorable right darling" Loki said with a smile as he pulled you to his chest with Steve and Bucky sitting nearby with fond smiles.

You just nodded with a blush as he kissed your forehead "Now how about a movie night and when there is a party anytime soon you'll tell and you can go?" He suggested.

"Really?" You jumped up excited and Loki nodded.

"thank you thank you thank you" you giggled as you gave all of them a hug before running off to your room to change into comfortable clothes and spent the rest of the night eating snacks, watching movies and joking around with Loki, Steve and Bucky.

Honestly it was better then any party could be.

#tickle fic #marvel tickle #lee!reader #ticklish!reader #ticklish ribs #bucky barnes #request #tickle punishment #steve rogers #ler!bucky #ler!steve #ler!loki #loki god of mischief #party #sneaking out

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widowsistersandfriends · 4 months

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

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

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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romanestuffsposts · 1 year

Note

Hey! Can you write one where little reader tries to convince stucky to get a puppy?

I love your page!

Hi there love! Thank you for the request. I hope you like how I turned it 💜

Thank you so much ❤️

****

Warnings : litte reader is a vicius manipulative one in this one, paci, stuffie, mention of punishment, soft punishment, tease, pouty little reader, vicious daddies, cuddle, fluff, pet name

Pairing : Daddies!Stucky x Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : Even the most adorable puppy eyes can’t get you a puppy ? Let’s see about that…

****

"Daddyyyyy" You sing as you jump on his laps. He chuckles and wraps his arms around you "what is it, little one ?" You look up at him "do you like Bucksie ?" you ask biting your lips.

Ah, Bucksie. He chuckles "of course I like Bucksie, Beautiful" This cause a huge smile on your face. Bucksie is a stuffie your daddies got you for christmas last year. It's a white puppy and you take it everywhere you go. You can't sleep if it's not in your arms, you don't like tv marathon in the evening if it's not beside you or with one of your daddies and you’re sick in the car if it's not in your hands to distracted you.

It's your bestfriend

"why are you asking me that ?" he asks tilting his head as he stares at your beautiful features "He good puppy Daddy, isn't he ?" you ask looking up at him with your big dreamy eyes. Your Daddy smiles and nods "he is the best, always so good and he always calm you down so why I wouldn't like it ?" his fingers are running down your hair and his eyes are still running around your face features

"Can I have anothew one ?" You ask shyly, your fingers fidgeting with each others, you nervously wait for his answer. His deep laugh vibrates the inside of your body because of yours still resting on him "I don't see why I would say no" he smiles when he hears your gasp. You turn your head to his "weally ?"

He nods once again with his loving smile "Yes, really" he says pocking his nose against yours making you giggle.

You bite your lips as your smile appears on your face "can i go tell Papa ?" you ask kicking your legs from joyce. The little energy you have in your body is about to run out.

"Go," he says "but don't run" he adds and you nod "pwomise, daddy" You kiss his cheek before getting up and start walking as fast as you can to your Papa's office.

You stop when you're infront of the door. You're about to open it but remember that you can't without knocking. So your little fists dance around the door annoncing at your Papa that it's no one else but you

You hear a muffle 'come in' so you open the door and enter quietly to not disturb him.

He already knew it was you, every time you are excited and have to ask something or when you're just in a happy mood, your hands knock all over the door. He looks up from his folds and smiles when he sees you infront of the door, waiting for him to tell you to come to him

"there's my beautiful baby" He smiles looking at you. You smile and wave at him but still remaind at your post "come here, sweetness. Come tell Papa what's got you in a good mood" he says patting his laps. You make your way to him and climb on his laps with his help. Your chest is infront of his and his hands are on your back to support you. You smile when his gaze is on you

"Papaaa" you sing just like with your daddy. He smiles and nods "Yess, sweets. I'm listening" he rest his back on the seat and make himself comfortable, knowing you won't go to the point immediatly

"do you like Bucksie ?" you ask peering up at him. He smiles thinking about that stuffie of yours "of course i like him, baby" His hands are caressing up and down your back giving you a massage sensation.

Another thing you love about your daddies is that whenever you're in their arms or beside them, they rub a part of your body, your belly to calm you down, your legs, your feet, your hand, your back or your arms. Everywhere they can put their hands on, they do

"can I have another one ?" you whisper and he frowns "don't you think Bucksie will be jealous if you have another friend like him ?" one of his hand is still on your back while the other is wondering on your belly.

"But told me he wanted anothew one like him. He wants a fwiend, Papa" You say pouting. Your Papa lifts your shirt so his fingers are wondering around your skin and he sighs "well, I guess you were good this week so we can go look for a new stuffie puppy this afternoon"

Your eyes widen from happiness and you gasp "weally ?" Your Papa chuckles and wiggles a finger in your belly button making you laugh "yes, really" he smiles seeing you fighting his finger "but you have to be good until there" he says stopping his teasing so your attention is back on him

You nod "I pwomise, Papa"

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

You walk down the street between your daddies, Your hands holding your daddies's and your smile on your face. You look around the street, smiling even more when you see people with their dogs.

You still can't believe your plan worked. In your head it's all good now, you'll have your puppy but in your daddies head, it's another thing.

You stop walking when there's a puppy store on the street. You let go of your daddies hands making them turning around to look at where you're going. You walk to the window and smile at all the little puppy who are playing or sleeping. You quickly find the one who look like Bucksie and you jump on your feet, pointing him "is him!" you squeal turning around

Your daddies look at each other, Bucky frowns at his husband while Steve arches an eyebrow "what are you talking about ?"

You look back at the sleeping white puppy "is this one Bucksie want" you say with a smile on your face. Your daddies walks beside you and look inside the store. Steve turns to you "But sweetness. This is a real puppy. Bucksie wants a stuffie and we agreed with a stuffie. You can't have a real puppy" he says and you're happy face change into a angry one

"But Daddy said i could" You cross your arms. Your Daddy's head snaps down at you while Steve looks up at his husband, ready to jumps on him "what ?!"

Bucky shakes his head "I never said that. I said I was okay with a new stuffie, just like your Papa just said." He looks up at Steve "You know I would never have told her yes for a puppy before talking with you" Steve sighs and nods "i know, Buck"

They look down at you "We're going to the playstore, not in this one" Steve says giving you his hand to go back into your walk "But Papa said yes too" you mumble pouting

Steve sighs and kneels infront of you "we never said yes for a puppy. You manipulated us and unfortunaly for you it didn't work. So either you apologize and we go to the store for a new stuffie but you get ride of that pouty face or we can go home without a new stuffie and a punishment" he says and your eyes are watering "what do we do ?"

You turn your back at him and he sighs standing up "alright, I guess I know the answer"

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

It's been three days now. Three days that you're dying for a puppy. When you came home that day you were send to a time out in your bedroom and you have to go to sleep earlier without cartoons for a week.

You were suppose to sleep right now but you can't. All you can think about is the puppy you want. All you can think about is the games you want to play with him. You want a new friend and you sure will do everything to have him

You get up from bed, your paci correctly put in your mouth and your Bucksie warmth up in your arms. You make your way to your daddies's bedroom, praying for them to not be mad at you for being awake this late. You carefully open their bedroom door and step inside. The dark of their room make your muscle tremble a little but you know your Bucksie is here to protect you as much as your daddies do

You walk to Bucky's side of the bed and shake his hand. You watch as his eyes open before blinking a few times. He lifts his head a little with sleepy eyes "Baby ?" his sleepy voice rings around the room "what are you doing here ? Why don't you sleep ?"

"Can't seep" you whisper "want daddies" you add and your Daddy smiles at you. He shifts a litte and opens the sheets for you to come in. You climb with his help in the bed and you lay down between your warm dadides. Your scooping closer to your Daddy, your head against his chest with your Bucksie between you both "why can't you sleep ?" he asks not whispering, knowing that your Papa is now awake and watch you both

"Bucksie was talting too much" you say looking down at your stuffie. Your Daddy hums, sliding his fingers down your arms "what was he saying ?"

"He was talting about a new puppy" you say "he is sad he can't have one"

Your Daddy looks beind you at Steve who is shaking his head with a knowing grin "what did you told him ?" Bucky asks looking back at you "Told him you said no" you say playing with Bucksie's ears "So now he mad at you"

Bucky chuckles "Oh, yeah ?" he looks behind him at Steve who nods. His eyes are back on you "well you can tell Bucksie that if you're good for another month, if you do your housework without complaining, if you clean your playroom after playing inside and if you don't whine about going to bed. Bucksie can have a puppy" he says watching your face

A whole month ? Doing all of that ? That's a lot. That's way too much for you and you know that. You daddies knows that as well.

"and if you have one. You will have to come every time when it's time to take him for a walk, even if you're playing. He won't go upstairs and you'll have to feed him. And it's important things you can't forget, either way we won't be able to keep it. Do you understand ?" Your Papa says from behind running his fingers up and down your back

That's a lot of responsable things. But you're a big girl, you'll be able to do all of that. You'll prove them you can do it, that you can be responsable

Like you said, you're going to do everything to have a puppy.

#@aagn360 #bucky barnes x steve rogers x little reader #daddies!stucky #daddy!bucky #little space #little!reader #bucky barnes #papa!steve #steve rogers #stucky x little reader #cuddles #punishment #soft punishment #puppy #tickle fic #stucky #comfort #tickles #ticklish reader

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supermarvel-fics · 2 years

Text

Tickletober Day 18: Chase

fandom: marvel

word count: 820

pairing: steve rogers x reader (platonic)

summary: steve is gonna make you pay for constantly making fun of him

Steve Rogers was fast. That, you knew for a fact.

He could run circles around almost everyone in the tower, sans Bucky, who was just as quick, if not quicker. Thor was close to giving him a run for his money, but Steve would always come out on top.

So, why you decided to run away from him knowing he’d eventually catch you—you’d never know.

You had been relentlessly teasing Steve about losing a sparring match against Nat for days now. On that first day, it was the only thing you could talk about, earning you laughs from all the habitants of the tower within earshot of your jests.

After that, you’d bring it up every once in a while, laughing as Steve rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t that getting a little old?” Steve had asked you, huffing as he swung his fist hard into the punching bag. You leaned against the metal pole with your arms crossed, insufferable smirk on your face.

“Mm, not as old as you. Come on, you have to admit it’s kind of hilarious.”

“It was funny 3 days ago.”

You knew Steve wasn’t really upset about losing to Nat, nor was he at your constant teasing, so he never gave you a good incentive to stop. Plus, you just loved to get on his nerves the way a little sibling would to a bigger sibling.

That was until a week had passed and you were still going on about it. Steve had been quietly reading that day’s newspaper in the kitchen when you had waltzed in and brought it up before even saying good morning. Steve held in a groan, shutting the paper and turning to you.

“You have 10 seconds to run before you get it,” He cryptically threatened you. You barked out a laugh, eyeing him with confusion.

“Get what?”

“It.” Steve putting emphasis on the consonant. A second or two later, your eyes widened in terror. You knew exactly what ‘it’ was and he was merciless about it when it came to you.

“You wouldn’t…” You muttered while backing away from him.

“10…9…”

Before he could say the next number, you were down the hall to try and find a place to hide. But Steve Rogers was fast and you knew you didn’t stand a chance against the Captain. Even with that head start, he’d catch you before you could successfully hide from him.

You heard his feet stamping from behind you, your heartrate increasing with every step you took. It also didn’t help that you weren’t prepared to run, socks covering your feet rather than a pair of shoes. So as you went to turn the corner, you slipped and fell to the floor with a thud.

Steve was on you within seconds, but not for the reason you thought he’d be.

“Are you alright?” He asked with genuine concern, squatting down to your level. You inhaled deeply to catch your breath, looking up at your assailant with wide eyes. Steve’s hands were placed on your shoulder and leg, checking for any injuries.

“I-I’m okay, Steve. I just slipped. Maybe warn me next time and I’ll be prepared with some shoes,” You teased him half-heartedly. You made to stand up, but Steve’s touch was firm, telling you to stop moving.

“You’re absolutely sure? Nothing hurts?”

You turned to glance at him warily. “Yes, I promise I’m fine!”

“Great,” Steve breathed out in relief prior to completely switching his hand placement, bracing his thumbs on the backs of your ribs so that his fingers could dig into the hollows of your arms. You screeched in surprise as you crumbled to the floor, your arms trapping his hands.

“WHA—STEHEHEVE!”

“You said you weren’t hurt, so you’re obviously okay for me to exact my revenge,” He responded. You could hear the smirk on his lips, uncharacteristic for the serious super soldier. Steve was evil when it came to tickling you. Taking on the role of big brother well after you’d made fun of him a little too long.

“NOHO! OKAHAY! PLE—STEHEVE, I’M SOHORRYHY!” You screamed out, your feet pounding on the floor to try and distract from the feeling. “I WOHON’T SAY ANYTHING EHEHELSE ABOUT IHIT.”

Steve took your word for it, forcefully ripping his hands out from under your arms and pushing you onto your back. He grinned at the mess he’s made of you before offering you a hand to help you stand up. You took it, albeit hesitantly, and stood up, straightening out your wrinkled clothes.

“You know you’re way too ticklish to keep messing with me like that,” Steve mentioned with a raised eyebrow. “I would have thought you’d learned your lesson after last time.”

You scoffed instead of replying, flipping him off before taking off in a sprint down the hallway once again.

Steve was right. You’d never learn your lesson.

#marvel #marvel tickle #mcu #lee!reader #ticklish!reader #tickle prompts #tickle fic #tickle drabble #sfw tickle fic #ler!steve #ler!steverogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers tickle #augtickletober2022 #tickletober prompts #tickletober2022

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leegemma · 1 year

Note

Hey!

Loved your marvel fic and was wondering if we could get more of that.

Maybe steve/nat x teen ticklish reader?

Something really fluffy, like she's been on the phone for a long time talking to Peter, her boyfriend (I had to 😂) and they make her by tickling her?

I completely understand if not, thanks anyways 💕🙏

Hi! Thank you for the request. It took me a while but here it is:) just a warning- I started out super inspired and motivated but was just super exhausted towards the end.

Hope you enjoy it anyways and please keep sending requests in! Got three that I'm working on already ✨️

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

You laughed when your boyfriend made a joke, staring into the screen and listening to him telling you about his day. "And then there was this huge explosion- like, y/n I thought I was going to die. Like, really. And then I looked up and there was this guy and he was all like big and strong and-"

You heard a knock on your door, and paused peter. "One sec Pete. Come innnn!"

"Hey." Steve smiled at you as he walked over o where you were on your bed.

You raised on eyebrow and watched him sit down on the edge of the bed. "What?"

Steve frowned. "A bit of an attitude there, huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever Steve. Do you need anything? I'm on face time."

Steve shook his head in disapproval. "Yeah, I can see that. You've been on it for hours now. Who are you talking to?"

"Just peter." You turned the front of your phone towards Steve so he can see peter.

"Y/n, who is- oh, hi mister Rogers!"

You smiled as you heard your boyfriend's voice go up a notch when he noticed he was now talking to captain America.

Even Steve couldn't help but smile a little. "Hello peter, do you think you and this grumpy creature are going to hang up anytime soon?"

You groaned while peter only seemed distressed. "Um- yeah! Yeah, we could do that. We'll just talk later. Or not, you decide. Or- No you don't... but I mean- you know what I mean, right? You know everything beca-"

"Peter shush, we're not hanging up." You turned the screen back to face you.

"It's okay y/n, I really don't mind." Peter tried to reassure you, but you weren't having any of it.

"No! He doesn't get to tell us what to do! We're old enough to decide for ourselves."

You glared at Steve.

"What is happening here? I heard someone raising their voice." Nat walked in, leaning against the doorway.

"Oh great." You mumbled.

"Well you see, y/n has been on face time with Peter for the last 5 hours. And I really don't think it's healthy to be on screen for that long. So I asked her to get off and she just got all sassy." Steve explained, looking at you the whole time. Not even glancing at nat.

"I see..." she smirked, seeing your feet popping out from under your blanket.

She came closer and sat down right next to them.

"Well y/n, I think you should listen to Steve."

You huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, as if..."

"Okay, well. Don't say I didn't warn you." Nat shrugged and started spidering all over your feet.

"Warn me? What do you me- MEehehean!" You squealed and tried to pull your feet away, but Nat was holding them tight.

Steve grinned. "This is more like it.."

"Wahahait! Nohohoho!!" You tried to twist away, your phone still in your hand.

"What is happening there?" Peter asked, confused.

"Oh just tickling y/n." Nat smiled as your laughter went up an octave when she moved up to squeeze your knee with one hand, and kept going on one foot with the other.

"Noho way! Y/n is ticklish?" Peter chuckled in surprise.

"Gohod bye peheter!" You giggled out and quickly hung up the phone.

"Oh so now you hang up?" Steve shook his head again and started kneading your sides.

"NOHOHO STOHOP!" You were already pretty much out of breathe, flopping around on the bed.

"You didn't stop the call when steve asked you to!" Nat exclaimed, now tickling both your thighs.

"What happened y/n, why are you laughing?" Steve smirked down at you as he wiggled his way under your arms.

"PLEASHAHAHASE!" You shook your head violently and tried to hit Steve with your arms.

"So aggressive." Steve chuckled, looking at nat and sharing a quick laugh with her before turning back to you and holding both your wrists above your head with only one of his hands.

"Tickletickletickle y/n/n!" Nat wiggled her fingers above your face teasingly.

You closed your eyes, unable to take the teasing and have to look into her eyes.

"Hey Nat, do you think y/n has all her ribs?" Steve asked, putting on his best 'thinking' face.

"I'm not sure Steve, she has been on that phone for an awful long time... better check..." she said, digging into your hips at that moment.

Steve nodded. "Absolutely." He then started counting your ribs, for what felt like hours but really just lasted 2 minutes before you went into silent laughter.

"Alright, you gonna apologise for being rude to me and not getting off that thing when I asked you to?" Steve asked.

You nodded, still unable to talk as nat was pretty much killing your hips.

"Go on then." She smirked.

"IM SORRY!" You managed to spit out.

"Well, i forgive you. Now, do you want to do something together?" Steve pulled you in for a hug.

"I want sleep." You replied, yawning right afterwards.

"Aww... poor baby." Nat chuckled and grabbed you from steve, pushing you to lay down on your bed and laying down next to you, grabbing your remote and putting your favorite movie on.

You fell asleep between the two of them, and when you woke up. You had a couple of messages waiting to you from your boyfriend. Yeah... you forgot he knew now...

#tickle fics #ticklish!reader #tickling community #steve rogers #natasha romanov #ler!natasha #ler!steve #lee!reader

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fanficsandfluff · 2 years

Text

Tickletober 2022 - Day 5: Punishment

A/N: Thank you to @softaneasy who requested this one. Truthfully, I do not ship Stony, nor do I like writing the character of Steve Rogers. And I was initially gonna turn this prompt down. But the writing angel/demon living inside me told me to go outside my comfort zone for this Tickletober. So here we are!

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark

Tony had been acting a bit too snarky at the team meetings nowadays. At first, the crew chalked it up to a bad hair day or waking up on the wrong side of the bed. But after it persisted for three or four meetings, it was clear there was something larger looming over the billionaire philanthropist.

Steve approached Tony after the fifth team meeting where he sent everyone off scoffing, particular Natasha this time. Normally unphased by Tony's words, this meeting's aim had been directed mostly at her.

"Hey," Steve stopped Tony from exiting and they were the only two left in the room, "Do I have to ask?"

"Maybe you do, cap. Be a little more specific."

"Why are you a raving asshole lately?"

The language took Tony by surprise and actually got a grin out of him, "Productivity has been well below average, trying to boost morale by tearing everyone down first, so they can eventually rise together to fight against the stigma. Isn't that was leadership is all about?"

"No, not at all, actually."

"Well, to each their own," Tony then attempted to walk out past Steve, but Captain America gripped onto Tony's shoulder after he passed him and got close enough to the door.

"Tony," Steve sighed, "I know there's more going on here. I'm willing to forgive it all if you just act a little nicer from here on out, hm?"

"We'll see, Rogers," Tony left the room this time, whistling to himself. Steve narrowed his eyes and watched him walk down the hallway, "I'll give you one more chance, Stark."

"And I'll be eagerly awaiting the consequences post said chance," Tony had spun around to deliver his parting remarks and walked backwards for a few paces before turning down a corner.

And another meeting came and went, no changes from Iron Man. This time his target was poor Bruce Banner. Steve bided his time as everyone left the room and even waited for Tony to leave, knowing he was headed for his lab. Tony tended to work on a routine nowadays, so it was easy to track him.

The sliding doors to the lab whooshed open for Steve after he made it downstairs.

"Office hours aren't until tomorrow, sport," Tony chided, readying a pair of goggles and gloves for the work he was about to set out on.

"Oh, I'll be quick. Here to follow up on a threat," Steve was approaching Tony by his work station.

"Threat?" Tony turned around and eyed Steve, "My Captain America doesn't threaten, he moreso saves and leads and throws his little dinner plate around. Oh! You mean about the--"

"Yeah, your punishment, let's call it," Steve was now sporting a grin. The silence between the two hung in the air a few beats too long, and it was long enough for Tony's own smug look to be wiped from his face.

"Wait--" was the only thing he could get out before Steve pinned him against his own work table, high enough for the edge of the table to be caught in the small of Tony's back.

"Jesus, cap, at least take me out to dinner fi-hirst," an unwanted giggle slipped its way out of Tony's lips when he felt thick fingers prodding into his ribs.

"Do you ever stop talking?" Steve asked Tony, wanting to sound exasperated but it mostly came out teasing, with a small smile still on his face. His fingers dug right in, not playing games. This was a punishment, after all, for Tony's constant being a dick to everyone.

Tony yelped and he wanted to shrink down to the floor but Steve's strength and superior girth kept Tony upright. He laughed against his will and it was loud laughter because god dammit Steve knew how to tickle.

"Fuhucking stop!" Tony begged, his hands tightening onto Steve's wrists but was unable to stop their path. Steve worked his hands down until the thumbs dug into the crevices of Tony's hips, mostly exposed due to his low-rise pants. Tony screamed and he did manage to collapse halfway, so Steve's hands had to stop tickling him there, thank god. But now Steve pulled one of Tony's arms up, easy enough since the billionaire hadn't let go of his wrist yet, and pinned that hand to the table.

"N-nno," Tony protested, "No, Rogers, don't. Don't do it."

"Don't do what? Get under here?" he fluttered the fingers of his free hand under Tony's arm, which was now wide open.

"SHIHIhiiiit! You bastard!" Tony growled, stomping his foot on the floor, "Lemme go! Let me go right now!"

"You're in no position to be making threats now, Stark," Steve smirked and he used all the force of his fingertips to dig in and around Tony's armpit, partially exposed to the elements because of the very short sleeve shirt Tony was wearing. Not quite a tank top, but tight enough to leave a space for skin-to-skin touches.

Tony laughed, throwing his head back as his other hand came up to try and ward off Steve's fingers. But he was laughing so hard his coordination was off.

"I'm gonna get you to apologize to everyone," Steve spoke about serious matters as if he wasn't literally tickling his friend and coworker to near death, "And you're not gonna take out whatever shit you got going on on the team."

"OkAY! OKAY!" Tony agreed immediately.

Steve rose a brow and he smirked, "I didn't think you'd cave that quickly. When am I supposed to deliver my big speech?" he pulled Tony until he was standing again and he now rested both his hands on either side of Tony's stomach.

"Plehehease no," Tony giggled and it was almost cute. Hands were at Steve's wrists once more, waiting for the inevitable.

"I have to. This isn't a real punishment if I don't get the worst spot on you," Steve smiled once more, a bigger, brighter one this time. And both hands wreaked havoc on Tony's belly. One hand vibrated its claw shape right in the middle and the other slipped under said tight shirt that had already risen up and was scratching at the tender skin across Tony's waistband.

Now Tony really did scream. His laughter rung out loud and clear and his arms couldn't do a thing. He tried hunching forward, falling to the floor, considered head-butting Steve for a hot second there, but nothing came to fruition. Tony laughed so hard he snorted as Steve's fingers finally lifted off his very ticklish torso.

"Gohohod," Tony snorted again and he hated it, "You're even more of an asshole than me, old man," he was breathing heavily, wiping sweat from his brow. He watched as Steve was walking out of his lab.

"Maybe you just needed a little lightening of your spirits," Steve said in return and before he got in the elevator to go back upstairs, he added, "I hope you've learned your lesson."

Tony gave Steve a thumbs up followed by a very pronounced middle finger. Steve laughed as the elevator doors closed and Tony huffed out a chuckle. Maybe he did need that. Hm, tickle punishment works. Who knew?

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tickles-in-ficland · 2 years

Text

It’s here! It’s finally here! Sorry it took so long, life got hectic and I didn’t have the motivation to write. I hope you enjoy.

Old Man

Summary: The reader is a lab assistant with the Avengers. After growing close with the team, teasing about two super soldiers old age is a favorite past time. That is until the two “old men” decide that a lesson needs to be learned. LerSteve Rogers, Ler!Bucky Barnes, Lee!Reader

Warning: Mild swearing, mostly fluff

Word Count: 1,986

It was 4pm and you were way past your time for a break. You’d been in the lab since 6 am. Ever since Mr. Stark and Mr. Banner brought you on as their lab tech you had grown close with the whole team. They had brought you in about 6 months prior. It took awhile for you to come out of your lab rat shell but in time, you became a part of the family.

You sighed taking off your lab coat and tossing it over the chair. “I think I need a break. If I stare at that microscope any longer my eyes are going to fall out of my head.”

Bruce chuckled. “I agree Y/N go get something to eat. You’ve done great work today.” he said with a quick wave before turning back to his project. That man worked more than you did.

With a smile you grabbed your bag and headed out the door, only to collide head first into a super soldier. Looking up, it was Steve.

“Oh! I’m so sorry Y/N! Are you alright?” he asked concerned.

A smile smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You never missed an opportunity to tease one of the team members. They’d grown use to your cheekiness. “Ugh I guess so. It’s just these old geezers around here need to watch where they’re going.”

“I-HEY!” he said crossing his arms in a pout. “That’s not very nice.”

A full fledged smile spread your face now. “Who said I was nice?” you quipped.

Steve narrowed his eyes playfully at you. “Watch it.” he said he pointing a finger in your face. Sending a wink in your direction he continued down the hall.

You entered the compound kitchen, desperately trying to find a snack. Long hours in the lab made you hungry and you wanted a snack.

“Whatcha looking for?” a deep voice chirped behind you, making you jump.

You turned around to see Bucky in the kitchen, his arm resting on the island counter.

“Good grief Bucky. You’re quiet for an old man. I expected a dinosaur to make a bit more noise.” You grinned turning back to the fridge.

You heard Bucky gasp as you giggled, rummaging through the fridge for your snack. Pulling out some fruit you sat on the bar stool, glancing over at Bucky who still had his mouth slightly agape at your sass.

“What?” you asked innocently with a hint of mischief behind your eyes.

“Did you….” he paused dramatically for a moment. “call me OLD?!” he said putting his hand to his chest.

You giggled and shrugged your shoulders. “Hey I didn’t say exactly that but if the shoe fits!”

“You are full of sass today little one. You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.” he said pointing a finger warningly but teasingly at you.

“Who��s in trouble?” Tony asked entering the kitchen as the exchange between you and Bucky was happening.

Bucky chuckled darkly, his eyes twinkling. “This little punk over here called me old!”

Tony threw his head back in a deep laugh before giving you a high five of approval.

Bucky huffed crossing his arms. “I think Y/N has been spending too much time with you, Stark. Your sarcastic nature is rubbing off.”

Tony shrugged and nudged you with a smile. “I see nothing wrong with that.” he said before patting Bucky on the shoulder as he exited the room.

You took the cue to follow Stark out of the kitchen. As you passed Bucky you grinned as you shoved a strawberry in your mouth.

“You’re starting something I might have to finish.” Bucky said towering over you with a devious smirk on his face.

“You don’t scare me, Buck. You’d never hurt me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Who said anything about hurting you?” before reaching forward, spidering his hands up and down your sides, eliciting high pitched giggles to spill from your mouth.

“he-HEY! What was that for?!”

“I wanted to see if you’re ticklish.” Bucky said with a grin. “Looks like you are. What a discovery!” he said skittering his fingers across your tummy making you squeal and twist away.

“Bu-BUCKY! QUHIHIT IT!” you said smacking his hand as you jumped out of his reach.

Bucky ceased his attack but still had a mischievous smirk on his face.

“A few of us are in the common room. We’re planning a movie night. Do you want to join us?” He asked as the two of you exited the kitchen.

You shrugged. “I’d love to but I should probably get back to the lab. Banner is probably wondering where I am. We have an important test to run.”

Bucky put his arm around you and looked at you with puppy dog eyes. “Aw come on Y/N! You work too hard. Take a break and hang out with your friends. Banner will survive without his assistant.”

“I don’t know….” you said.

Your work was important to you and being chosen to work at Avengers Compound was a dream come true. It was a bit intimidating working alongside literal super heroes so you wanted to make the best impression possible.

You gave Bucky a small smile. “Let me swing by the lab and make sure I’m not needed. I’ll meet you in the common room.”

Bucky nodded, satisfied with that answer. “Alright, doll. I’ll let the others know you’re joining us.”

Bucky exited the kitchen, headed to the common room, while you made your way back to the lab. Bruce was still in there to no surprise but you didn’t see Tony. After Bruce assuring you that he was fine on his own, you made your way back down to the common room where you saw everyone getting settled in. You walked in to see Wanda and Vision curled up on a loveseat together, Steve and Bucky where on either end of the long couch while Peter was stretched out on the floor with a pillow under his chest.

“Y/N!” Vision said cheerfully. “Do join us.” he motioned you into the room.

Peter looked up from his spot on the floor and gave you a friendly smile and wave. It was nice to have someone closer in age to you around. While you were a few years older than the spider kid, it was still nice to not be the only “kid” around.

You sat in between Bucky and Steve, a decision you would soon regret.

Halfway through the movie, a scene happened where it was taking place in an era that was far before either of the super soldiers time, but you couldn’t resist a jab. You smirked and leaned towards Steve.

“So what was it like back then?”

“Hey!” Steve said with a hand on his chest. “I’m not THAT old!” He said with a jab to your side.

Giggles bubbled in your throat. Steve raised his eyebrows with a smirk.

Bucky leaned over hearing the commotion. “Hush! I’m trying to watch.”

Steve put his hands up in defense. “It wasn’t me dude! Y/N is making fun of my age! I may be old but I’m not THAT old!”

A mischievous smile graced Bucky’s face. “You’re not the only one getting the sass. I think someone needs to be taught a lesson in respecting elders. What do you think Rogers?”

Catching on to the teasing tone in his voice Steve shared the mischievous smirk. You were in deep shit. As you attempted to bolt from the couch a pair of strong arms yanked you back down, holding you in place.

“And just where do you think you’re going little one?” Steve teased as you squirmed in his arms with a giggle trying to break free.

“Ya know Rogers, I found out something about Y/N!” Bucky said before giving your sides a firm squeeze, eliciting a stream of giggles.

Steve’s eyes lit up. “You’re ticklish?! Why didn’t we know this before?!”

“Behehehcause!” you said giggling pushing at Bucky’s hands. “Why wouhohould I share thaahahat?”

“Well maybe this will teach you to watch your sass around us little one.” Steve said digging into your ribs from behind. A shriek of laughter made the whole room turn to look at you.

“Guhuhuhys! Plehehehase!” You tried with all your might to get out Steve’s grip, to no avail. “Ihihim sohohohorry!”

Bucky shook his head with a smile, still squeezing your sides and spidering over your tummy, endless giggles spilling from your mouth as you kicked your legs wildly.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I believe you. How about you Steve?”

Steve shook his head in agreement. “Nah I don’t think so either.” The super soldiers talking to each other as if you weren’t there was driving you crazy. The teasing was too much.

Bucky chuckled. “Maybe if I squeeze riiiiiight……here.” he said before furiously digging into your hip bone, causing a deep belly laughter to erupt.

“NAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHASE STAHAHAHAP! SOMEONE HEHEHELP MEHEHEH!” you bucked trying to escape but Steve held you tightly.

“Oh! I think we found a bad spot.” Steve teased continuing to spider up your ribs and under your arms.

Everyone in the room shook their heads. They did not want to get in the middle of that. Especially Peter who was often the target of tickle attacks. Being the youngest of the bunch he himself was often a target for incessant teasing.

“Sorry Y/N!!” Peter shouted from his spot on the floor. “You did this to yourself!”

“I hahahate youhoho!” your laughter raising in octaves with each squeeze and poke.

“You HATE us?!” Bucky gasped feigning hurt. “Clearly you haven’t learned your lesson! I think we need to pull out the big guns, what do you say Rogers?”

“Nohohoho! Ihihihim sohohorry!! Ihihihim sohohohory!” you squealed throwing your head back in deep belly laughter.

“Ready Buck?” Steve said with a smirk.

“Aye Aye Cap’n!” Bucky bellowed before the two men leaned down to either side of your neck blowing raspberry after raspberry. It was torture, their scratchy beards mixed with the tickly raspberries was too much. You screamed in laughter before tears spilled from your eyes and your laughter went silent. After a moment, they let up, deciding you had suffered enough.

You laid there for a moment, your body still shaking from residual giggles trying to get rid of the ghost tickles that still covered your body.

“Yohuhu two are the wohohorst!” you said covering your face to hide the blush that filled your cheeks.

The two super soldiers chuckled as Steve helped you sit up. “Maybe, but now you know what happens when you mess with two super soldiers.” he said with a wink.

You looked at everyone else in the room, who were clearly amused by what had happened. “Y’all suck! No one tried to help me!”

“Sorry Y/N!” Wanda chimed in “I wasn’t getting in the middle of that.” she said with a laugh. “Vis gets me enough, I don’t even want to try to fight those two.”

“Yes it is true.” Vision said with a small smile. “It does seem you, as the young spider boy pointed out, did it to yourself.”

You huffed and crossed your arms. Bucky raised his eyebrows as he leaned over to look you in the eyes. “Shall we go for round two or is the sass master done for now?” he said wiggling his fingers teasingly.

“Nohoho! No mohohore!” you said giggling holding up your hands in defense.

Bucky lowered his hands but leaned forward so he hovering over you slightly. “Watch yourself little one. Now everyone knows your weakness.” he said with a final poke and a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You settled back into the couch, leaning on Steve’s shoulder and smiled to yourself. You hadn’t exactly hated that and you were already plotting how to make it happen again.

Revenge is sweet.

#marvel tickle #mcu tickle #ticklish reader #avengers tickle #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #lee!reader #ler!bucky #ler!steverogers #tickle fluff #avengers tickle fic #captain america #the winter soldier

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lemonsandstrawberries · 1 year

Text

Christmas Delay

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony),

summary: Christmas is around the corner, and Tony has absolutely no time to celebrate and feels guilty.

length: 870 words

a/n: Happy Holidays! you will read this fic in three minutes, while it took me like an hour to write, December as usual has kicked my butt. Hope you all get plenty of rest during holidays, be good to yourselves! feedback, reblogs and likes are welcomed and needed!

—————

Christmas Delay

"Babe... Tony!"

"Hrrr... HNG?!" Tony's head jumped up and he opened his eyes wide. Oh, he fell asleep. On Steve's shoulder. A still moist trace of drool on Steve's shirt was clear evidence. Ew.

Steve's chuckled, not that bothered. He watched Tony rub his face and sit up straight, movements a little slow and stiff. The end of the year was always a busy time for his boyfriend, with wrapping all the work for Stark Industries, closing shipments and sells, invoicing, and all the other things that gave Steve a headache just from hearing about it. Of course, Tony had Pepper to help, but with all respect to Pepper's skills, even she couldn't keep up with the enormous amount of work. Tony made sure that Pepper ate enough, slept enough, and kept her out of the office when he saw that Pepper's bright eyes became red from staying up all night over documents. It was sweet. It was less sweet that Tony didn't apply the same politics to himself.

"Go to bed," Steve said softly, leaning in closer to press his nose over Tony's cheek. It was still early, just after 7 pm, but Tony clearly needed rest. And if Tony won't take care of Tony, Steve will.

"But, you wanted to decorate the Christmas tree," Tony said, eyes drifting to the part of the room where a huge, bright green tree stood, boxes of ornaments nearby. He already felt guilty, that Steve had to go and choose the Christmas tree all by himself, while Tony was in the office, doing phone calls after phone calls.

"We can do it later."

"But - " Tony looked at the TV, seeing a scene where the McCallister family was rushing through the airport. Oh, great. The move barely started and he had already fallen asleep. "I feel rested now, we can still watch the movie - "

"It is fine, Tony, we can watch 'Home Alone' for the twelfth time another day."

Tony was running out of arguments. And patience. Towards himself. Why Steve was so nice when he was letting him down time after time?

"I am sorry," Tony gave up, putting his face in his hands, smothered by the weight of everything. December was supposed to be a joyful time, but it wasn't when you were a head of a multi-billion dollar company with an overfull schedule.

"You don't have to be sorry, I know you have a lot of work. And soon you will go on a Christmas break, and then we can binge-watch all the movies and eat all the cookies," Steve said in a cheery voice.

Tony laughed weakly. There was sincerity and love in the voice which he didn’t expect to get. He turned to look at his boyfriend and smiled tiredly. "I don't deserve you," he said truthfully.

"That's some bullshit and you know it," Steve warned, making Tony's smile a bit wider and more real. No self-loathing. Seeing Tony smile, made Steve smile too. "Go to bed," Steve repeated, leaning in again. Tony expected to be nosed in the cheek again, instead, Steve placed a tiny, tiny kiss on his cheek. And another one. And another one. And some more.

"He-hehey! Steheve!" Tony giggled, tipping his head up to escape from the ticklish feeling.

Steve laughed too, placing more tiny kisses on Tony's jawline and neck, just to make him smile and giggle, nothing too intense. When Tony became too wriggly, Steve wrapped arms around him and pulled him closer, making his boyfriend squeak in panic.

"You're so cute," Steve laughed at the high-pitched sound, pulling Tony into his lap and curling with him.

"I am not!" Tony argued stubbornly, trying to move his face out of the range of the ticklish kisses.

"You are. And you are ticklish in all cute places like here," Steve said, gently running his fingers over Tony's ribcage.

"AH! Ahahaa! No!" Tony protested, trying to push himself out of Steve's embrace. The tickling wasn't bad, it was quite nice actually and Tony felt his overtired mind-melting, but his body still had some fight left in.

"You are not ticklish there? Then... how about here?" Steve's fingers walked lower, softly kneading over the sides.

"Hahahaha! Steveehehe!"

"Definitely ticklish. But you know where the cutest place is?"

Tony had a hunch. Still, he squeaked in a very undignified manner when Steve's warm hand slid under his shirt and fingers traced his belly button.

"PHHH HIHIHIHI!"

"Sooo cute," Steve said gleefully, continuing the very soft tickling over the quivering stomach and sides, not bothered by Tony's constant wriggling and kicking legs. He didn't want to be too mean and kept it up only for a few seconds before stopping and cuddling Tony close, not letting him bolt away.

Tony took some deep, calming breaths, settling down. His head felt heavy, and his body relaxed greatly, not so tense anymore. Huh. Who would have thought that something so silly would be so helpful.

"Mmm... Steve..."

"Yeah?"

"I think I need to go to sleep earlier."

Steve smiled, loosening his hold, but still keeping Tony close. "I think so too," he agreed, letting Tony stand up and walking with him into the bedroom.

Christmas could wait.

#stony #steve rogers #tony stark #tony stark is ticklish #a bit of tickling #superhusbands #fluff #christmas #christmas fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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inneedofsupervision · 3 months

Text

The Big Bad Wolf And The Itsy Bitsy Spider

As you can read above, I've got a prompt. I took the liberation to alter it since I'm not comfortable writing "reader insert" fics, so here you go with some Bucky, Steve and Peter being dorks and bonding over snow I guess?

Summary: It takes some level of boldness to attempt a snowball assassination of Captain America and the former Winter Solider, but someone has to be the one to throw the first snowball and step onto the thin line that divides braveness from recklessness.

(Or, how Peter thought it would be fun to annoy two super soldiers)

"On your left!"

"You've got to be kidding me."

Bucky grimaces at Steve's voice penetrating his ear, breaking the peaceful silence. He blinks a straying snowflake out of his eye before glaring at the back of Steve's head. When did the punk catch up to him? He doesn't try to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at his friend speeding up to jog a few meters ahead, shoulders shaking in poorly hidden laughter. Bucky should have shoved Steve out of the cold and locked the door like Sam suggested when the other asked if he wanted to join him on the running track. The snow-covered running track, he might add. Bucky effortlessly catches up to Steve and shoves him, snickering as it causes the other to stumble, clearly unprepared for getting hit in the side by solid vibranium. Steve huffs, quickly collecting himself before starting to level up from his jog to straight-up running, passing Bucky but not without pushing him in retaliation.

Yes, they are very mature for their age.

"I liked you better before the serum. You've become a show-off, Steve!" shouts Bucky after him before he starts falling into a faster pace.

"Someone's gotta keep you in check, Buck," answers Steve, and Bucky frowns at the smug grin the blond's carrying. It is just like back then, Steve acting like a little prick. Not that he wasn't happy he could actually go for a run with his friend without the anxiety of an upcoming asthma attack sitting in the back of his mind. Steve just got a little too overconfident for Bucky's taste.

"Like the little punk he is," mumbles the man as he watches Steve running, probably sporting a grin like usual when he gets to pass Bucky. He played with the thought of running up and shoving the man into the piles of snow lying next to the running track. He decides against it. Being friends with the man for years, Bucky figures it would end up in petty revenge plotting, and he didn't want to spend much more time in the snow than he needed to.

"You're not sleeping, are you, Bucky?" teases Steve, still running in front of him. They are reaching the end of the track when Bucky feels the overwhelming need to throw a snowball at his friend's head. Bucky bends down mid-run and collects a handful of white fluff from the ground, skillfully forming a dense ball. He was acting childish, but damn it, his toes felt like they froze off. Steve deserves at least that for dragging him outside at six in the morning at 24,8 Fahrenheit. Just because he was frozen once doesn't mean he enjoys staying out in the middle of winter in the daytime when the sun decides to grace the horizon. The man straightens up, hand drawn back and ready to smack his little work of art against Steve's back of the head when someone beats him to it.

The ex-assassin's eyebrows shot upwards as he only caught the movement from the corner of his eyes. Before he could call for Steve to watch out, the snow projectile already hit its goal, the force great enough to let the ball crumple into pieces. Bucky grimaces in sympathy as a fair share of snow runs down the blond's neck and into his sweater, probably completing its mission to soak the backside of his shirt with icy water and causing it to stick against his skin in the most annoying way possible.

A thick silence settles onto the running track as Steve's hand slowly reaches upward to get the snow out of his hair and off his skin. Blue eyes cold as ice pin Bucky in place. Bucky finds himself backing away slightly.

"So that's how you like to play, sore loser," says Steve, but the glint in his eyes betrays the soft tone of his voice. Bucky let out a short cough. Not because he was trying to buy some time and avoid answering Steve.

It's not like he was intimidated by that punk or anything.

Bucky inconspicuously glances towards the compound, measuring the distance between himself and the entrance. He drags his eyes back to the blond.

"Steve, I swear that wasn't me."

Steve gives him a pointed look.

"And what's that?" the other asks, nodding towards him. Bucky looks down and draws his eyebrows together as he catches sight of his hand still holding onto the snowball.

Well, that certainly looks misleading.

"I know how this could come off as, but-"

"Good, we are on the same page then, Buck." interrupts Steve.

Bucky swallows as the blond starts pulling his sleeves up and going as far as to crack his knuckles. Oh, that dreaded smile. That smile tells you Steve Rogers wouldn't let go of this. Why did he have to befriend this punk again? If anyone asks, Bucky denies having taken a step back. He tries again to reason with his friend, squinting his eyes as Steve bends down to grab a fistful of snow.

"Steve, I didn't throw that thing."

"And I'm not about to push you face-first into the snow."

Bucky let out a frustrated groan. Steve was already closing the gap between them, and he wasn't close to taking a listen to his reasoning. It leaves Bucky questioning, where did that snowball even come from?

Bucky was too old to wrestle in the snow. Literally. Why did this kind of thing have to happen to him? The man holds his hands up in defense, ready to go and push the other off if he needs to, when another snowball flies at the pair of super-soldiers.

This time, it hits Bucky.

Right in the face.

The explosion of ice transforms into cold wetness trickling down his jaw, chin, and neck before sickering into the fabric of his training shirt as the snow melts instantly on his slightly above-human-average heated skin.

Without a word, he slowly reaches upwards and wipes the snow that has begun to melt out of his eyes. His face turns into a deep scowl as Steve's hearty laughter carries over to him.

"Stop laughing. I swear, I shove this in your face, Steve!"

Bucky narrows his eyes at the blond, still holding onto the snowball and contemplating throwing it in the blond's face but deciding against it. Before that, he has to figure out who would dare to throw a snowball at him. Bucky had to give the silent shooter credit. It took him a few moments to spot him. If it weren't for the slight color difference of the light gray accent on the guy's shoes, he wouldn't have spotted him in his thoroughly white outfit, blending in quite well into a blanket of snow. Successfully creeping up and keeping out of sight from not one but two trained super-soldiers was not an easy feat. Steve is busy chuckling when Bucky slowly puts a finger to his lips, signaling him to be quiet. Steve raises an eyebrow, and Bucky slowly turns his head, jerking it towards their silent visitor. His friend catches on quickly, and Bucky can tell by the minimal widening of Steve's eyes that the latter has spotted the hidden shooter. The two soldiers held a wordless exchange of glances and came to a silent agreement before Steve let the snow fall from his hands.

"Let's go back inside. It's too cold if we're only standing around."

"Sure. Wouldn't want you to turn into Stevie the Snowman."

Steve rolls his eyes before walking up to Bucky, sending him a silent nod.

They start walking, pretending to end their little workout, and leave the running track. Steve's eyes hang on the lump of "snow" lying next to the track as they approach from the side. When the two reached the same high as the uninvited visitor, Bucky's left foot took a side step, shifting as he twisted his hip, repositioning his body weight. In a split second, his metal arm shoots forward, throwing the snowball with all his might at the person lying in the snow. The two men watch with more fascination than surprise how the well-camouflaged figure rolls to the side with a shriek, snow-projectile hitting and leaving a rather impressive hole in the snow pile where the person's head had been a moment before. The previously silent attacker is quick on his feet. His move to the side brought a small distance between him and the soldiers before coming to a halt in an uncannily familiar crouching pose. The person who had successfully kept their identity hidden until now slowly raises their head. Steve's lips twitch upwards on instinct while Bucky narrows his eyes at the sight of brown curls hanging over equally brown eyes that sparkle in a mix of unmistakable mischief and amusement.

"Hey, Steve. Hi Bucky."

Peter has the nerve to give a small cheeky wave in their direction, still crouching and looking not an ounce apologetic. The two adults watch, with slight confusion, how the teen's positive expression changes into a frown, leaving the two adults confused about what could have caused the sudden change in Peter's mood. Bucky watches him slowly straighten from his position on the ground. He wants to roll his eyes as he feels Steve twitching next to him, the worry-wart. He can sense Steve's need to ask the kid what was wrong. Peter surprises them by drawing closer to them, towards Bucky, to be more specific, a frown still present on his young face. Before Bucky can react, Peter stands on his tip-toes and reaches his hand out to carefully peel a crumble of snow out of a stray set of Bucky's dark hair. Brown eyes narrow at the sight of the snow in his hands before they settle on Bucky. The teen tilts his head to the side, almost as if he were confused if it weren't for the minuscule twitch of his lips, giving his poorly hidden amusement away.

"Sorry, you've got some snow there. Steve got you good, huh?"

Bucky's fists clenched at the sound of suppressed laughter from the blond to his right. He elbows Steve in the side before he glances back, only to meet the face of a mischievously grinning Peter Parker. He swears that kid is full of shit. But Bucky will be the last to laugh today after he shoves that kid in the nearest snow pile. He feels a grin tugging on his lips at the panic taking over the teen's features as he strides forward, right into Peter's personal space, ready to grab him.

His plan doesn't work as the teen, in one swift movement, manages to dive under the incoming metal arm that took a swing at him. With ease, the vigilante emerges behind the older man, a winning grin painting his features. But the euphoria of escaping a pissed-off Bucky Barnes lasts only a moment. Bucky grins as the teen lets out a shout of surprise at the pair of very fleshy and muscled arms, almost tackling him to the ground.

The ex-assassin turns around, a taunt for the Spider sitting on his lips, but the words couldn't leave his mouth quick enough before the kid began moving again. Steve didn't know what was coming for him, as from one moment to the next, the Spider-Teen vanished from his vision by jumping up. Peter skillfully escapes the bear hug about to send him to the ground by leaping and pulling his feet up to his chest mid-jump, feet hovering over Steve's head for a moment. Steve grunted in surprise as a foot set down on his shoulder, and he could only glance up, catching a smug grin that the teen had to have learned from none other than Stark himself. Bucky could only watch how his best friend gets abused as the kid's personified springboard, Peter setting a foot down on Steve's shoulder and pushing himself forward to perform a neat somersault over the blond's head. The sheer force of the jump is enough to send Steve tumbling. While Steve takes a dive face-first into the snow, the teen lands with practiced ease on the balls of his feet, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

That little shit.

Peter's smug expression switches into shock-widened eyes and a surprised squeak getting pushed out of the teen as a metal arm slings around the back of his knees before a shoulder crashes into him. Gloved hands flail around before finding hold of the thick textile of Bucky's jacket as Peter tries to push himself off where he got thrown over the man's shoulder. A laugh escapes the teen, the latter involuntarily rendered in watching the world from upside down. Bucky unconsciously grins at the sound before he lets go of Peter's legs. He grabs the teen's jacket with both hands, ready to haul him into the snow. His hands are firmly on the teen's waist, pulling with strength, but, for some unexplainable reason, Bucky couldn't lift the boy. The body on his shoulder wouldn't move an inch, only shifting slightly along with the movement of his jacket. A short moment passes before Bucky tilts his head to get a look at Peter's face, eyes squinting with accusation.

"Are you sticking to me?"

The disgust in Bucky's voice sends Peter into a laughing fit, not having expected the sheer horror in the man's voice. He couldn't even form a coherent sentence from how much he was cackling while hanging over Bucky's shoulder, the latter still glaring at him. It wasn't easy to get a genuine reaction out of Bucky, the ex-assassin carrying a neutral expression most of the time if he wasn't scowling at someone or showing a smirk. The surprised tone of the super-soldier's voice, mixed with a spark of horror and disgust, had caught Peter off guard.

Bucky and Sam always reacted rather strongly at the display of Peter's most spider-like trait. Solely for that reason, he used his ability more than once just out of spite to annoy them. Their reactions are hilarious, and although they tell him to keep the "freakiness down a notch" while putting a hand over their chest in Sam's case and accusing him of trying to give them a heart attack, Peter finds himself not minding the teasing. As the youngest of the group, he often has to live with the jokes thrown his way. If sticking to the ceiling at three a.m. is a way to hand back some of their medicine, Peter gladly let go of the chance to get some sleep. The teen made it his challenge to get the two men used to his abilities, and if that meant he had to freak them out until they grew used to him sticking to stuff, then that's what he calls a win-win on his side.

"You, Peter Parker, aren't as innocent as you pretend to be."

That's what Mr. Stark had told him with an amused tug of his lips as he had to call someone to repair the hole in the living room, a keepsake from Peter's last little prank on Bucky.

Peter is still hanging over Bucky's shoulder, clinging to him with his hands efficiently sticking against the man's clothes. The latter can feel the teen shaking from laughter and shakes his head at the teen's antics with a little grin. "I'll get you off. Just wait, Parker," threatens the man playfully as he gives the body on his shoulder another experimental tuck. As expected, Peter wouldn't budge an inch, shaking his head at Bucky's words. Bucky rolls his eyes, having caught a glance at the large grin plastered over the teen's face. The kid was enjoying this way too much.

"Steve, get your frosty butt up. I need a little help here."

As soon as the words leave his lips, Bucky can feel the body on his shoulder stiffen. The man quickly fastens his grip on the teen. And he did so not too late because just a moment later, the struggle began. Bucky laughs. "What? Now, you don't want to stick close?"

He smirks as he hears Peter groan at his bad joke, the movement halting for a moment before it picks up again. Peter is pushing his hands against Bucky's back, trying to lift himself off. His movement grew more erratic, and Bucky raised an eyebrow. One glance at Steve gives Bucky an idea of why Peter's effort to escape is increasing tenfold. Steve frowns at the pair as he runs a hand through his short golden hair, wiping ice water and snow off. The blond had managed to climb out of the snow but gave off a comedic picture. Captain America covered from top to bottom in white, an unamused expression on his face.

"Do you want to go first, or should I?" asks Bucky Steve, his grin widening as he feels the kid's fingers curl into his jacket, holding on for dear life and probably fearing Steve's revenge. Knowing Steve, the latter would, despite getting kicked into the snow and laughed at, go soft on the teen but said teenager didn't know about that. Steve playfully scowls at Peter, hands on his hips and giving him the disappointed-Captain-America-PSA-look that the kid had probably seen too often during school.

"Hand the Spider over, Buck."

To the untrained eye, Steve looks convincingly pissed off, but Bucky could see past the stern facade. Steve is successfully messing with the kid. Said kid is easily fooled and starts pleading, nervousness dripping from every word, and Bucky notes with amusement that the hold on his jacket grows even tighter. The teen wasn't even realizing that clinging to Bucky wouldn't help him in any way.

"Steve? Come on, that was not that bad, right? You were frozen before. Stuck in a bit of snow is nothing new to you."

Steve wears an incredulous look on his face as he raises an eyebrow at Peter's words. He glances at Bucky, silently asking the man if he misheard or if Peter just added fuel to the fire. Bucky shrugs his shoulders. Peter seemed to realize that his nervous stumbling over words wasn't helping him out of this mess. Bucky has to put some strength into his hold on the teen, throwing Steve an amused grin at the teen wriggling like a worm.

"Whatever you're thinking of, please don't do it. Steve, I'm serious. Steve, no. Stop right there! Don't come closer!"

Despite his words and the evident panic in his voice, some nervous giggles are slipping between the teen's words. Bucky shakes his head at Steve, the latter wearing a stupidly wide grin as he draws closer, clearly amused by Peter's panicked rambling.

"Stay away, Steve!" shouts Peter as the blond reaches out for the squirming teen, ready to fling him into the snow. It's a good thing they are at the compound, far from the eye of the public, because the scene unfolding on the Avenger's training grounds would have drawn various headlines in the news. It was quite a sight, the former Winter Soldier holding an unknown teenage boy captive while Captain America tries prying said teen off of his shoulder.

"You're one sticky punk, aren't you?"

"Language, Bucky."

There is no real bite in Steve's voice, the blond too busy trying to avoid getting hit by a lanky arm that flails around while Peter tries to hold onto Bucky and simultaneously tries to push Steve away. Peter keeps shouting at Steve to leave him alone, threatening to stick to him if he gets too close, all the while laughing. His threats only last for so long before Peter lets out a yelp in surprise. His fingers let go of Bucky's jacket that was now lying on his lap, and he stared at it for a few moments, a puzzled look on his face. Peter slowly lifts his head, sitting on the snow-covered ground, dazed. His eyes fall onto Steve's and Bucky's faces. He swallows as the men smirk while looking down at him. In a blur of motion, Peter throws the jacket at its owner, successfully covering his head with it and earning a colorful curse. He uses the few seconds where Bucky is occupied with taking the jacket out of his face and tries dashing between the two men, choosing the fastest way back to the compound.

The empathize is on trying.

Steve stepped forward, grabbing the teen by the waist before Peter could run off. Peter let out a grunt as he was successfully tackled to the ground by a body twice his weight.

"Let's see how much you like playing in the snow."

Steve grins down at the teen pinned under him who, despite his earlier panic, throws back a challenging look at the super soldier. Steve raises an eyebrow, surprised at the smugness on the teen's face. It was typical for Spiderman to act confident, but he hasn't seen that look much in Peter Parker. It suits the kid.

Steve's eyes widen in surprise as a small hand clamps around his wrists. With one powerful tug, their positions reverse, and the blond finds himself pressed into the ground, one arm pinned above his head. Peter leans over him with a wide grin on his face. Steve notices the teen's free hand has grabbed a good amount of snow, and it doesn't take a genius to guess what the kid was planning to do. The teen opens his mouth, probably to throw some witty remark at him, only to wipe his head to the side so fast it nearly causes Steve to flinch. He catches the widening of Peter's eyes.

"Don't!"

The command hits deaf ears, and before Steve knows what happens, he's not looking at a grinning Peter but at the cloudless sky above. He turns his head towards the noise on his right, and a grin spreads onto his face. Steve watches a ball of limps rolling a few meters with a chuckle. Bucky had successfully tackled Peter off of him, and he and the kid were now fighting for the upper hand. Steve grins at his best friend grumbling about hyperactive teens and Peter trying to shove the man off him, laughing at his complaints. He laughs as Peter lets out a shriek of protest when the older man starts to put snow into the opening of his jacket.

"Stohohop, it's cold!"

"That's the point, punk."

Peter trashes under Bucky, who had made it to his challenge to shove as much snow as possible under the teen's clothes. Peter tries prying the icy fingers of his skin, laughing but shuddering at the coldness running through his body. Steve walks over, amused by his friend playing around like a kindergartener, watching the spectacle for a few minutes. In the beginning, Peter had been fiercely fighting back, but after some time, Steve noticed the teen growing tired. If it were anyone else, Steve wouldn't have wondered about giving up against the strength of a playful super-solider, but this was Peter. Spiderman doesn't grow tired this easily.

"Peter, are you alright?"

Steve's words cause Bucky to stop wrestling with the kid. He also had noticed the teen's movements become sluggish, but Peter hadn't earnestly told him to stop, and the older man hadn't put much thought into it. Now that he hovers over the teen, not holding him down anymore, he notices the complexion of the kid's face as unusually pale. Brown eyes glance up at them, a sheepish grin on the teen's face, and if Steve didn't know better, he would say the teen looks almost embarrassed.

"Too cold. Can't thermoregulate."

At Peter's words, Bucky turns his head at Steve, raising an eyebrow in silent question, hoping his friend knew what the teen was talking about. Steve wears a frown on his face, telling Bucky without words that his friend feels as much out of depth as he does with the short explanation. Peter must have caught their troubled expression as he tiredly tugged on Bucky's sleeve, gaining his attention.

"It's because of the spider DNA. I cannot regulate my temperature. My body struggles to create body heat like yours does. If it gets too cold-"

"Your body grows weak because it needs a certain temperature to function," finishes Steve Peter's sentence while looking down at the teen, the latter looking out of it but still nods at him with a small smile. Steve shakes his head at the teen, and Bucky doesn't feel like smiling at all, scowl deepening at the sight of a bluish hue on the boy's lips.

"Damn it, Peter, why didn't you say anything sooner?"

Before the teen could justify his lack of explanation, he finds himself bundled up in a jacket three sizes too big, the initials S.R. adorning the front. Not taking any risks of the teen being out in the cold for much longer, Bucky, despite the weak protests from Peter, throws the boy over his shoulder.

"Don't think we are letting you off the hook that easily," mutters the man under his breath as he carries the teen towards the compound. The automatic doors of the entrance already stand open when Bucky walks in. He kicks his running shoes off mid-step and hurries into the joint room. Despite his grumbling, the older man carefully puts Peter down on the couch. He straightens up, looking down on the freezing teen with a frown. Peter is cold, but the lack of shivering was a bit off-putting, giving little clue about what stage of hypothermia they are dealing with.

The absence of shivering must have to do something with being unable to thermoregulate. Bucky had to ask Banner about that, not trusting the kid to give him all the information.

"Friday, can you tell us Peter's body temperature?"

"Mr. Parker's body temperature currently lays around 94,64 °F. I recommend taking measurements to get the temperature up. It is beyond his average. A long-term drop in body temperature could cause health concerns, Mr. Rogers."

"Thank you, Friday."

Steve turns towards Bucky, who controls the urge to roll his eyes at the kicked-puppy stare his friend is wearing. "He'll be fine, Steve. Go search for a blanket and make some tea or something. I'll take care of him."

Steve sends him a small smile. "Thanks, Buck."

Bucky shakes his head when his friend walks out of the room, not liking the guilty-ridden expression painted on the blond's face. Knowing Steve blames himself for not noticing something was up sooner was typical of the man. It made Bucky want to beat some sense into his best friend. He faces Peter again, the latter, at least looking relatively more aware of his surroundings thanks to Friday having raised the room temperature. He watches the teen fumble with the zipper of his jacket, a frown drawn on his youthful face as his fingers wouldn't work how he wanted them to. Peter stares at the metal hand popping up in his vision and pulls down the zipper he struggled skillfully. His jacket gets peeled off of him the next moment before a gruff voice causes him to lift his head.

"Arms up, punk."

"Hmm?"

Brown eyes throw him a confused look, and although Bucky would have teased the teen for being not quick to take on, he swallows the comment. He had time to make fun of the kid after he got rid of the blue on his lips.

"You need to put on dry clothes. If you get sick, Stark will throw a fit."

That coaxes a reaction out of the teen.

"Not keen on Mr. Stark threatening to take your arm off?" asks Peter with a little smirk.

Oh. Bucky grins. Seems like the teen isn't that out of it after all. He flicks Peter's forehead, earning a glare.

"I'll hear that every day. His threats don't work on me. Now, arms up."

Thankfully, Peter wore snow pants, which are relatively easy to pull off the teen. The thick sweatpants he wore under his outdoor clothes were dry, but Bucky couldn't say the same about the kid's socks and shirt. The gray shirt is soaked, sticking to Peter's skin all around. Thankfully, Steve wasn't here to see this, or Bucky would get an earful again. The soldier watches as Peter tugs at the front of his shirt, grimacing at the feeling of the wet fabric pulling off his skin, only to stick back when he lets it drop.

Maybe he went a little overboard with the snow. With a sigh, he bends over and gets a hold of the end of the wet shirt. Peter made a noise of protest as Bucky pulled the undesirable article of clothing over his head, leaving him in nothing but his pants, but at least he was left with only dry clothes on his body. Bucky scans the room in search of the blankets he had seen other members of the compound use before the voice in the ceiling spoke to him again.

"If I am allowed to interfere, Mr. Stark has arranged a range of special clothing for Mr. Parker in cases of a temperature drop."

"So Stark is aware of this problem of yours," says Bucky, glancing at the teen. Peter caught him looking and nodded.

"It wasn't fun when he found out. Mr. Stark caught on mid-February with winter almost over." The kid's expression is solemn as he talks. Bucky almost reaches out to ruffle his hair, amused by the seriousness with which Peter was telling him this as if it had been one of the worst days of his life and not his mentor being rightfully concerned. Instead, he gave a little shake of his head, a corner of his lips tugged upwards while walking over to a closet. He hears some shuffling behind him as he pulls out a set of blankets, almost throwing them at the kid in frustration as he sees the teen has stood up.

"What do you think you are doing?"

Peter sighs as he gets pushed back to sit on the couch with Bucky standing before him, sternly looking down on him. A person shouldn't be able to look as intimidating with an armful of baby blue blankets.

"I was about to get the shirt Friday told you about."

"You will sit here and wait while I get that shirt. It's in your closet?"

Peter nods while pulling the blanket around his shoulders but not without rolling his eyes, letting out a small yelp as Bucky flicks a finger against his forehead. The teen glares up at him, but Bucky merely raises an eyebrow at him, a silent dare. Bucky gives him one last glance, checking that the teen is bundled up tightly and behaving, not wandering around on his own before he retreats. With Stark's AI speaking to him and giving directions, it is relatively easy to find the clothes despite the chaos in Peter's room.

"This looks pretty tight."

The man eyes the almost plain-looking textile in his hand. Bucky wasn't sure what he had expected, but knowing Stark, he thought whatever this was, it to be more eccentric as he took in the dark gray clothing. Maybe the billionaire held back on his desire for extravagance to accommodate the young vigilante's preference for simplicity. He had noticed that aside from throwing in some colors and graphic shirts, the teen likes to dress easy on the eye.

"It is, but it does a good job. Mr. Stark made several of these. They are great. Maybe you could ask him to make some for you and Steve too?"

Bucky refrains from telling the kid that he and Stark weren't on the level for him to ask the kid's mentor any favors, although the hopeful sparkle in the kid's eyes tells him that Peter thought about that matter differently. Shrugging his shoulders, he skilfully avoids giving him an answer. The man stretches the sleeves to form an opening and holds it out for Peter.

Peter tilts his head to the side, his eyes wandering up to meet Buckys, giving him a look before settling back onto the clothing held out for him, confusion evident on his face. Feeling merciful, Bucky takes Peter's wrist. "You do have to put this on to work, you know?" teases the man while pulling the teen's hand through the sleeve, noticing with a smirk how a hue of pink spread over the teen's ears. Maybe he should start acting more like this if it's this easy to make the kid sputter around in embarrassment. Oh, he has to tell Sam about this. The kid tugs at his wrist, checks growing red as Bucky tries to pull his other hand through the second sleeve. When he was about to pull the shirt over Peter's head, the teen had enough. He pushes the hands away, sending a frown at the man.

"I can do this on my own!"

Catching the smirk on Bucky's face, it dawns on the teen that the ex-assassin was doing this on purpose. Peter quickly realizes that protesting wouldn't work on the man. Bucky had the mission to embarrass him, but Peter wouldn't let that happen. He was Spiderman, for crying out loud. Peter was perfectly capable of dressing alone. Getting cold slowed the process down, he had to admit. But still, Peter's sixteen years old.

He knows how to wear a shirt. Not planning to play along with Bucky, the now slightly frustrated teen leaned back into the couch and slid down to avoid the hands pulling further on the long sleeve. He uses the new-won distance to roll to the right, trying to make a run for it.

"Get back here, punk," scolds Bucky, but the playful twinkle in his eyes betrays the stern tone of his voice.

"I won't let you mess with me."

It would have sounded more convincing if Peter wasn't kneeling at the end of the couch, both arms stuck into the shirt but glaring instead of pulling it over his head, wearily observing what the man a few feet away from him was planning to do. Bucky crosses his arms over his chest, amused.

"Doesn't look like you do a good job."

Peter squints at the words.

"If I pull this over my head, are you leaving me alone?"

Humoring the kid, Bucky acts thoughtful before grinning a shit-eating grin that Peter has seen too often.

"Why should I do that? I've got to make sure you are wearing it correctly. I cannot trust you to keep yourself warm."

The teen deflates at the words, almost sounding petulant now.

"I would have told you and Steve! Sooner or later..."

When the man raises a single eyebrow, the teen huffs in frustration. But he is not making a move that shows he agrees to let Bucky help him. The tension hangs thickly over the room as the two hold a stare-off. Both are waiting for the other to make the first move, Bucky watching the teen with rapt eyes while Peter's muscles are bulging under his sweatpants, ready to jump over the couch at any second. Bucky was the first to move. Without looking, his arm shots to the side, grabbing a hold of a stray pillow and throwing it at the teen while rushing forward. Thanks to the room's raised temperature, Peter wasn't as sluggish as before but still nowhere near his usual speed. His spidey sense prevents him from being hit in the head, raising his arms along with the thermo-shirt around his wrists to block the flying pillow. Peter's brows draw together in confusion as his spider sense still acts up, even after keeping the pillow from colliding with his face.

"Holy-"

The rest of his sentence gets lost in a high-pitched squeak as a metal arm wraps around his middle, tackling him successfully into the couch. Dark strands fall onto Bucky's face, the man grinning down at the teen who glares up from his position under him. It's a little insulting how easily he got him pinned on his back, straddling him by sitting on his tights and throwing him a winning grin that irks Peter just by looking at it.

"Get off," whines the teen and is about to push at Bucky's chest to shove him off, but the older of the two catches the shirt hanging between Peter's wrists and presses it down, forcing Peter's hands away.

"You're not in the position to make claims, kid."

While forcing the teen into the shirt, Bucky grins, an occasional chuckle leaving his lips at the glares sent his way. By the end of the ordeal, Peter let his head fall back onto the couch in defeat, looking absolutely done with everything. His hair is a tousled mess of brown curls hanging in his eyes, the tips of his ears red again from embarrassment. The teen rolls his eyes at Bucky when the latter asks if he is still feeling cold with a mild dose of sarcasm. The man catches Peter's expression, poking him in the now finally covered stomach. "Don't get sassy, punk," he threatens with a grin promising no good. He is about to poke Peter a second time, for good measure, when his hand gets caught in a firm hold. Peter lifts his head, sending him a glare.

"Don't."

Bucky raises an eyebrow.

"What? You're ticklish?

When the teen doesn't answer immediately, Bucky pokes him again, this time in the side, eyes trained on Peter's face. Peter's jaw is clenching under the pressure of trying to keep his facial expressions under control, but the unmistakable nervousness creeping on his face is almost too easy to detect. Without batting an eye, Bucky frees his hand out of Peter's hold, ignoring the confusion written all over the teen's face as he places his hand over the teen's middle. He just let it hover there, a few inches over the teen's tummy and not moving, never taking his eyes off the teen's face. Peter glances from the hand up to Bucky's face and back to the hand, eyes widening as he sees a single finger twitch. He observes with the morbid curiosity of someone watching a horror movie how the rest of Bucky's hand stays motionless while one finger moves as if independent of the rest of the body. Peter wasn't sure if it was because of the prosthetic, but somehow Bucky managed to wiggle just one finger, then two, and then three, while the rest stayed static. Under other circumstances, he would be fascinated by this observation. In this instance, it merely serves to freak the hell out of Peter. All of the vibranium fingers are moving now in a manner that only indicates one specific outcome of what happens next, and he is not ready for it.

When the hand starts to descend, he breaks. Before the wiggling finger could close the gap, Peter loses his will to pretend to be tough in front of Bucky.

"Okay, okay, I admit it. I'm ticklish, alright? You can stop now. You don't have to prove anything!"

Bucky merely raises his eyebrows in amusement at the panicked words stumbling out of the teen's mouth, accompanied by a pair of hands gripping his wrist, hindering his hand from moving further down.

"After your stunt from earlier, I'm not sure to believe you. Better check this out myself, just to be sure."

"You don't have to do tha-AHAHA! NOAHAHAH BUHUHUCKY!"

"I'm not convinced, Peter. Does this count as ticklish?"

A grin grows on Bucky's face as he watches the teen under him squirming like a worm on a hook. He had not even touched the teen before nervous giggles slipped out Peter. As soon as his fingers actually dug into the flesh of the kid's stomach, Peter's resolve had broken. He didn't try to hold his reaction back, fueling Bucky's curiosity to see what other noises he could coax out of the teen. His stomach has to be a rather good spot by the way Peter threw his head back as Bucky focused his wriggling fingers to dig into the sides of his tummy. Slender hands tried to catch his, but it was too easy to bat them out of the way to get back on skittering his fingertips over the smooth material of Peter's shirt. The shirt clung tightly against his lean body, making it very easy for the metal digits to glide over the middle of Peter's tummy, earning him little jumps whenever he traveled towards his belly button or his lowest rib.

"Is that a bad spot?" The answer was obvious, but it was too fun to pass the opportunity to watch Peter struggling to answer. Bucky grins as he watches the teen trying to form a coherent sentence between his laughing fit.

"Yes, yes, yes, yehehehes! It's sohoho bahad, it's bahahahad Buhucky!"

"It's that bad?" asks Bucky, acting surprised as he sends ten fingers onto the small patch between the teen's waistline and belly button, feeling the muscle contracting under his fingertips as the teen tries to curl into himself with a shriek but is unable to. His hands get shoved off by flailing arms.

"It's that bad," confirms Peter with a glare, taking the chance to catch his breath while the super soldier had mercy on him.

"That's too bad. I like that spot," muses Bucky as he looks down on the said spot, catching the nervous look Peter throws him out of the corner of his eyes.

"Don't you dare," warns Peter, failing to sound intimidating while grabbing onto Bucky's wrists.

"Oh, scary," mocks the man before letting himself fall forward. Peter lets out a panicked squeal and throws his hands up to catch the heavy body that's about to collapse on him. Bucky lessens his fall just in time with one arm probed against the back of the couch while using the chance to get a hold of the teen's arms with his free hand, wrestling them over Peter's head and pinning them there. Brown, wide-blown eyes stare up at him before Peter shakes himself out of puzzlement.

"You tricked me!"

"I thought you're smarter than that."

"And I thought you don't use dirty tricks."

"Seems like you've got some things to learn, punk. Now, where were we?" Bucky asks with a grin, challenging a Cheshire cat as he wriggles his fingers in Peter's face before focusing on the teen's stomach.

"No, nohohoo, Bucky pleahesehe, anywhere but there!" begins the teen to plead, tugging at his captured wrists, lifting his head, and trying to see what the man was doing. Bucky grins.

"You want me to try a different spot? Sure."

"NO! Thatahat's not what I mea-AHAHAHAH STOHOP! YOu know thahahat's nhohot whahat I meant! You ahahre suhhuch ahahahan. Suhuch ahahan-NO! DOHOHON'T!"

Peter's legs hammer down on the couch behind Bucky's back. The ex-assassin worries for a short moment if the furniture would withstand the constant abuse of a spider-kid kicking his legs around uselessly. His focus is back on Peter when he hears a high-pitched squeal escape the teen before a wave of hysterical cackling fills the room. Bucky raises an eyebrow at the reaction, concluding that he found the second worst spot on the teen. His right hand hovers between Peter's armpit and highest rips, fingers digging into the place with vigor.

"I'm almost convinced you told me the truth about being ticklish."

"Almohohohst? Whahahat do yohohu mean almost?"

Bucky stops tickling, eyes trained on the red-faced teen who tries catching his breath, body shaking when occasional after-giggle slips past his lips.

"Just saying, when I do this," he pinches Peter's hipbones, earning a full-body jump and a cackle, "or this," Bucky claws his free hand between Peter's ribs and let his fingers skim over the space between the bones to send the teen back into a high-pitched giggle fit, "I would say you are ticklish."

"Are you kidding me?" asks Peter. He wears a bewildered expression. "I've told you from the beginning, I'm ticklish!"

"You could have been lying," retorts Bucky.

"Are you seriously not believing me anymore because of earlier?" asks Peter. The man had another teasing remark already sitting on the tip of his tongue but halted as he caught something akin to hurt playing on the teen's face. Bucky feels thrown off. He knew he should do something, but looking at Peter's face and seeing the wounded expression, he caught himself out of depth for a second time that day. That's why he needs Steve. Steve is better at this kind of stuff.

Peter is still looking at him, but as the man above him doesn't answer, the younger man's expression turns hard. Bucky's eyes widen as he gets shoved off, unable to withstand the power behind the thin arms that were now easily pulled out of his grasp. It seems that the spider-kid had his full powers back in play. Watching the kid silently collect his belongings, Bucky blinks slowly before getting a hold of himself. As Peter was about to walk out, he called after him.

"Peter, please wait!"

Whatever the teen heard in his voice, it had to be convincing enough for him to stop in his tracks and turn around to send him a questioning look, daring him to give a good explanation.

"Can we sit down and talk about this?"

Bucky nods at the couch. There is a spark of hesitancy flickering on Peter's features, and the teen is about to open his mouth to answer when Steve walks into the room. Steve glances at his friend standing behind the couch. Something must have happened for Bucky, who looked troubled with his eyebrows pinched into a frown, and Peter, the latter holding his wet-dripping clothes in his arms, wearing an expression far from the cheerful smile Steve is used to seeing on his face.

"I made you some tea, Peter. Would you like to sit down with us?"

Steve watches Peter throw a glance at Bucky, the latter having not moved from his position behind the couch before letting out a small sigh that Steve wasn't sure he was supposed to hear.

"Okay," mumbled Peter, sounding defeated, but walks back to the couch, leaving his wet clothes on the floor next to the couch table.

Steve throws Bucky a questioning glance before putting the tray on the table and handing Peter a cup of tea.

"I also found these," Steve said and pulled a bundle of fuzzy Captain America-themed socks out of his pants pocket, letting them drop on Peter's lap.

"Nice try, Steve, but I won't wear these around the tower. I like the lab privileges."

"Could have worked," says Steve and slaps his knee in faux disappointment to lighten up the mood. Peter's lip twitches at the reaction before he takes a small sip of his tea. "It's good. Thank you, Steve."

"I'm happy to hear that, Peter."

While Peter takes another gulp of his softly steaming mud, Steve subtly nods towards Peter, telling Bucky to fix whatever he has done. Bucky rolls his eyes but gingerly sets his cup of tea down and leans his forearms on his knees before addressing the teen sitting between them.

"Peter, I want to apologize. I was worried about you earlier, but I wouldn't stop believing you because of what happened, even if I were still upset about it. I meant to tease you a little, but I overdid it. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or make you believe I don't trust your words. I'm sorry."

Bucky glances at Peter, who sits still, looking at the cup in his hands with a thoughtful look. "I guess I should have told you about this earlier," began the teen, cutting both soldiers off when they opened their mouths to protest. "I trust you to have my back. It's not like I believe you would use that information against me. We are a team, after all," Bucky watches Peter's thumb absentmindedly running along the edge of his cup, halting as the teen continues. "I guess I was too embarrassed to tell you."

"Embarrassed?" asks Steve, head tilted to the side in confusion. Peter nods before directing his eyes at him, a shy smile tugging on his lips.

"Isn't it kinda silly? I've got all these powers through the spider bite altering my DNA, but when it gets too cold, I become fatigued. Meanwhile, you are this strong, and the cold doesn't bother you two.

I know you can't compare the changes of the serum with my enhancements, but sometimes I think about it and, you know, feel kinda useless."

Steve hums, fingers drumming against his leg as he thinks about Peter's words. Before he comes to voice his thoughts, a voice on his right beats him to it. Bucky's eyes are trained on the young vigilante sitting between them.

"You will never be able to beat that flaw of your powers, but stressing about it will get you nowhere." Steve frowns at the harsh words, but when he glances at Peter, he finds him paying close attention to every one of Bucky's words. The latter puts his hand over Peter's knees, hovering there before putting it down, giving it a short squeeze. "Knowing your flaws is one of your biggest strengths. Just keep that in mind."

Peter sends the man a soft smile.

"Thanks, Bucky."

Bucky glances at him from the side, the corner of his lip tugged upwards.

"Don't mention it, punk."

#ticklish! peter parker #ticklish spiderman #marvel tickle fic #marvel fanfic #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #tickling #bucky barnes #steve rogers #captain america #winter soldier #avengers fanfiction #the avengers #marvel

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 2 years

Text

Can't Wake a Sleeping Beast

Word count: 3,800

Pairing: Various (Tony, Steve, Bruce, Thor, Clint, Nat, Bucky, Loki) x female reader (all platonic, although Loki has a crush on you because I CAN'T HELP MYSELF DAMNIT 😂😂)

Warnings: None I can think of - mild swearing maybe?

So normally I don't write for this many characters, but I wrote a slightly modified version of this prompt requesting a fic with the six original Avengers, Bucky, and Loki trying to wake a sleeping reader. I don't specify below that the reader is the youngest of the team, but you are welcome to assume so as you read! 😊

(Also - there's no good casual gifs of the entire team, so... please accept this gif from the trip to the shwarma place at the end of Avengers 😂)

"Are you ready for the most exciting sporting event in history?!"

You plunked yourself down on the sofa beside Loki, grinning enthusiastically. Your upbeat tone was a stark contrast to your eyes, however. With puffy, darkened circles under your eyelids and a tinge of redness to the once white-colored outer edges of your eyes, it was obvious you were absolutely exhausted.

"Agent... how much sleep did you get last night?" Loki asked knowingly. You scowled at his chastising.

"I got plenty of sleep. I'm fine."

"Really? Because your eyes are telling me otherwise."

"Hey!" You folded your arms indignantly across your chest.

"I know you're not from Earth and all, but that's no way to speak to a lady," Steve chimed in as he and Bucky entered the common room, both taking a seat on an empty sofa. Loki rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"I simply mean to say that you appear to be very tired. And I know you have a tendency to overwork yourself into the young hours of the morning."

Your cheeks blossomed with color as your hardened expression faltered. "I went to bed plenty early enough, thank you very much. Plus, I slept in this morning."

"Oh? And what time did you awaken, then?"

"8AM."

"And what time did you go to sleep?"

You hesitated, taking a moment to think. "4AM."

Tony had just walked in at that moment, snorting in amusement. "Wow. That's even later than I went to bed. And that's saying something."

"You're not helping," you muttered, narrowing your eyes at the billionaire. "Anyway... can we please stop harping on my sleeping habits and get ready to watch the first game?"

"Are you certain you'll even be capable of staying awake?" Loki chided.

"For the World Cup? Absolutely. I wouldn't miss this for anything."

"Ten bucks says she falls asleep by halftime," Tony goaded, smirking at you from his armchair across the room. You scoffed, refusing to offer him a verbal response.

"Agent - you are well aware that once you fall asleep, it is nearly impossible to awaken you?" Loki teased.

"I will not fall asleep!"

Loki snickered. "Whatever you say."

You had been ranting about the upcoming World Cup for months now. Most sports were rather boring to you, but soccer games always had you on your feet cheering for your favorite team. Your enjoyment of the sport had rubbed off on your teammates - even Loki found himself interested in watching the games, finding it amusing how little protective gear these Midgardians would wear despite how violent the game could get.

And, perhaps, part of him just enjoyed the sport because you enjoyed it.

As the first game was beginning, Thor burst into the common room with a frantic expression on his face.

"Have I missed the coin toss?!" he fretted.

"Nah, you're just in time, big guy," Steve assured, chuckling as Thor's face melted with relief.

"Where are the others?" he queried as he took the seat on the opposite side of you on the sofa.

"Oh, they'll be in and out I'm sure," Tony responded flippantly.

"Bruce and Clint don't appreciate soccer as much as we do," you griped. "And Nat had a couple errands to run before she could join us."

"Agent!" Thor's attention suddenly turned to you, his brows furrowed with worry. "You appear to be exhausted! Are you alright?"

"Ah-ah - don't mention how tired she looks," Tony warned, whispering loudly enough for you to hear. "She gets grumpy when you talk about it."

"Alright, I'm ignoring all of you." You crossed your arms once again, leaning back against the sofa.

The first game finally began, and the room fell silent as everyone watched the initial kickoff intently. Intermittently, there would be a chorus of shouting as the favored team got close to the opponent's goal. Notably, you suddenly stopped joining in on the hollering about halfway through the first half. Loki hadn't expected you to fall asleep that quickly, but he didn't dare look at you to find out, for fear you'd become sour again.

And then your head suddenly slumped over onto Loki's shoulder.

"Are you awake, darling?" he whispered, turning his head to look down at your face. Your eyes were shut, your breathing slow and steady with a slight raspy snoring undertone. The sight was simply adorable.

"You weren't kidding about her being tired," Bucky observed at the end of the half, gazing at you incredulously as you snored away against Loki's shoulder. Tony clapped his hands together excitedly.

"Where's my ten bucks? I called it!"

"Shh! You'll wake the young maiden, Stark!" Thor scolded in a hushed tone. Loki laughed at that, earning a glare from his brother. "Do you not care that she is clearly exhausted?"

"No, no it isn't that. I just find it amusing that you believe a simple clapping noise would be enough to wake her," Loki chuckled. "The girl sleeps like the dead. It's near impossible to wake her."

"And how would you know that?" Steve asked warily. Loki felt an involuntary wave of heat rush to his face at the implication.

"I've come across her napping in the common areas of the tower before. Believe me - it's very difficult to wake her."

It was true - Loki tended to wander the tower at late hours of the evening, much later than any of the others. On numerous occasions, he'd found you sleeping on the sofa, or napping with your forehead pressed against your forearms at the kitchen table, having attempted to stay up too late to watch a film or get some work done and passed out before you could drag yourself to bed.

At first, he'd simply let you be. What should it matter to him where you slept? Clearly you managed to get yourself to bed eventually, as you were never in the same spot the following morning. Perhaps you enjoyed napping for a bit before heading off to bed for the evening?

Then Loki began to realize that the nights he discovered you sleeping outside of your bedroom were the nights you'd overworked yourself. Hours upon hours in the training room... pouring over blueprints and maps in preparation for a mission... even just completing your paperwork sometimes took precedence over sleep in your list of priorities. So he began to try to wake you whenever he found you sleeping in a position that appeared uncomfortable.

The problem was - nothing would get you to wake up.

It was clear you were still living - you were always breathing (often snoring, in fact) so Loki didn't fear something terrible had happened to you. But nothing he attempted could ever get you to awaken. Eventually, he'd simply taken to just scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to your room to put you to bed.

He imagined you must become confused those mornings that followed, finding yourself tucked into your own sheets despite never having brought yourself there in the first place. So, eventually, he told you the truth. Since then, it'd become a sort of joke between the pair of you - Loki teased you for sleeping like a corpse, and you teased him right back for having so much concern over where you slept. It was enough to make him feel confident that you didn't mind him looking after you on those nights.

"She will surely injure her neck if she sleeps like that for long," Thor worried, observing the way your head was tilted awkwardly to the side.

"Yes... I suppose you're right." Carefully, Loki reached around your back to grasp your shoulders, gently guiding you to lie down properly with your head resting on his leg. Thor followed suit, scooping your legs up off the floor to rest them across his own lap.

"There, now. She must be much more comfortable," Thor declared happily, patting your knee affectionately. Loki hummed in agreement.

You remained asleep through the entire second half of that first game. With a bit of a break between games, the boys began to discuss your exhaustion once again.

"She's probably gonna be really upset that she missed the first game..." Bucky pondered aloud. "We let her sleep for an hour, do you think we should try to wake her up now?"

"Good luck with that, Barnes," Loki snickered. "I'm telling you - nothing will awaken the sleeping beast."

"I don't believe it." Bucky rose to his feet, pacing over to the sofa you were resting on. Loki gazed up at him expectantly, motioning for him to try. He placed a hand on your shoulder and shook you gently for a moment. You didn't even stir.

"Honestly - is that the best you can do?" Loki taunted with a haughty laugh.

"I wanted to go easy on her." He grasped your arm with his metal hand and shook you harder, causing your head to jostle around against Loki's leg a bit.

Nothing.

"Hang on, let me try," Tony interjected, wandering over to stand beside Bucky. He knelt down in front of you, holding his hands up in front of your face before suddenly clapping them together loudly in rapid succession. "HEY! WAKE UP! GAME'S GONNA START SOON!"

Not even a flinch.

"Wow. You weren't kidding, Ice Age." Loki scowled at Tony's nickname.

"Ah, I have a thought," Thor announced with a sly grin, gaining everyone's attention. He grabbed hold of one of your ankles in his lap and swiped a finger down the sole of your socked foot. Your toes curled in response, egging him on to start scratching with all five fingers up and down your sole.

Loki watched your face intently. Your brow furrowed, a slight smile tugging at the corner of your mouth in the most adorable way. Still, your eyes remained shut, chest rising and falling rhythmically with your steady breaths.

"You might be on to something, Thor," Bucky noted as Thor relented in his attempt. He brought his fingers to your neck and fluttered them along the skin where your shoulder met your collarbone. Your shoulder shrugged up reflexively, and Bucky pulled his hand away to watch you expectantly, assuming you were waking.

Then, you turned over onto your other side, letting out a deep breathy sigh. Still asleep.

"What are you guys doing?"

The group collectively glanced up toward the sound of Nat's voice in the doorway, finding her standing with her hands on her hips accusingly. Beside her stood Clint - looking less than enthused to be watching the game; as well as Bruce - looking quite enthused about being there with Nat.

"Don't worry, Romanoff - she's been sleeping for over an hour. We just don't want her to miss all the games today," Steve assured.

"Alright. I'll allow it." She wandered into the room, standing over your sleeping form while Clint and Bruce found seats. "Hmm..." Glancing around, she suddenly walked over to Tony's seat, reaching over to the side table and plucking an ice cube from his drink.

"Hey! Do you make it a habit of taking things that aren't yours?" Tony griped. Nat merely grinned, carrying the ice cube over and dropping it down the back of your shirt.

"Oh, that's gotta work," Steve declared, watching intently to see if you'd wake.

The sudden chill of the ice certainly wasn't welcome, as evidenced by the grimace that formed on your face. Still, you didn't open your eyes even once, only shifting a bit in your sleep.

"Alright, clearly that didn't work," Loki muttered, sliding his hand down your back to guide the ice cube out from under your shirt and chucking it in Nat's direction. She shrugged, unfazed.

"Hey, I tried."

"I suggest we reserve further attempts for halftime," Thor announced. "The next game is beginning!"

Loki was genuinely torn as you continued to snore away with your head resting comfortably in his lap. He knew very well that you needed the rest, despite the fact you'd never admit it. And you looked simply adorable as you slept, which didn't help matters. But he also knew how angry you'd be with yourself if you awoke later that evening to find you'd missed the entire first day of the tournament.

Yes, perhaps at halftime they could try to wake you once again. For now, he decided to let you sleep a little longer, absently twirling strands of your hair around his fingers. A happy sigh puffed out of your nose, making his heart swell.

When the first half of the game had finished, the attention of the group turned from the television to your sleeping form once again.

"How long has she been sleeping like that?" Clint whispered.

"Don't worry about keeping your voice down - she's slept like a log since partway through the first half of the first game," Bucky explained with an incredulous laugh. "Thor, Tony and I tried to wake her up before you guys walked in."

"And she hasn't even moved?" Bruce asked.

"Not really. Thor tickled her foot and that seemed to sort of work, so I tickled her neck, and still nothing."

"Maybe you haven't found her tickle spot," Clint suggested. Nat glanced at him with raised brows. "What? It's what I call it with the kids."

"That's pretty darn adorable," she hummed affectionately. Clint's cheeks turned slightly red.

"A-anyway... here, let an expert give it a shot." He meandered over to your sofa, gazing down at you in thought. "Lila nearly wets herself laughing when I get her here..." He gently lifted your arm so he could slot his fingers into your armpit, wriggling his fingertips deep into the hollow space. A huffy breath escaped your nose as your brows knit together once again, a full-fledged smile now growing on your face. Astonishingly, you remained undeniably asleep.

"I don't think it's working," Thor stated, watching your face with a fondness in his eyes. Clint groaned disappointedly, removing his hand from under your arm.

"Damn. That always gets the kids to wake up when they're being a pain."

"Let me try, then," Nat suggested, approaching from behind Clint and giving him a teasing poke in the side. He yelped and twisted, glaring at the assassin as he returned to his own seat. Nat brought both hands down on your stomach, clawing at the soft skin through your T-shirt. The ticklish smile returned to your face, but still you did not wake. It didn't matter whether she attempted a firm scratching or a light tracing motion, you were simply too sound asleep.

"Ok, obviously she's only ticklish when she's awake," Steve observed jokingly. "What else haven't we tried? We're running out of halftime."

"Oh, oh, hang on-" Tony swiped Nat's glass of water from the table in front of her, clearly feeling he needed revenge for her theft of his ice cube. Loki gave him a fierce look as he approached you with the water glass.

"I certainly hope you aren't planning to pour that on her," he stated warningly, shooting daggers at Tony with his eyes. He shrunk back just slightly under Loki's gaze.

"No, of course not... who would do something that cruel?" He dipped his fingers into the glass of water (earning an annoyed shout from its owner) and then flicked the water at your forehead. A few cold droplets stuck to the bridge of your nose, again making you grimace slightly in your sleep. Tony sighed. "Alright, can I dump it on her now?"

"Not unless you'd like my boot up your-"

"Alright! Alright, I get it, Jack Frost!" Tony rolled his eyes, placing the glass down on the table where he'd found it before returning to your side. "Ok, kid - how about this?" His fingers dug into your ribs, kneading between the bones. It was clearly tickling you quite a bit, as your eyes and nose scrunched up in the most adorable way. And yet - you stubborn thing - you still remained asleep. Tony threw his hands up in the air in frustration after a few moments, stomping back to his seat. "I thought I had her there!"

"I'm afraid we must abandon our efforts once again - the second half is starting!" Thor announced excitedly.

"No, she's gonna be pretty mad if she wakes up to find she missed two full games," Steve groaned. "Let me try."

"Please do it quickly, soldier - I must see who wins this game!" Thor insisted. Steve paced over to the sofa where you lay, wasting no time in digging into your ribs as he'd seen Tony attempt. He squeezed your side with his other hand, clearly hoping two spots would be more effective than one.

You adorable creature - you buried your face in Loki's stomach, hiding the huge grin that had taken shape on your face. Surely you must be awake now, he assumed.

And yet, when Steve relented in his attack, your breathing returned right back to the rhythmic, steady rise and fall of deep sleep.

"Alright! I give up!" Steve declared with a laugh. "She can't complain when she wakes up - every one of us has tried."

"Bruce hasn't," Tony reminded him.

"Me?!" Bruce appeared frazzled at the suggestion. "But if you guys haven't been able to, what makes you think I could wake her up?"

"Worth a shot at least," Bucky concurred. "Any genius ideas in that big brain of yours, Banner?"

"Well, I... You guys haven't tried pinching her yet?"

Bruce withered a bit under Loki's angry glare at the suggestion.

"Relax! I wouldn't hurt her!" he assured quickly, "Physicians do it to assess neurologic function."

He rose to his feet as Loki's glare softened a bit. If it worked, at least you'd get to watch the remainder of the game. But he'd be damned if Banner would actually hurt you in any way. His eyes never left Bruce's as he knelt down beside you, taking your hand in his and pulling a pen from his pocket.

"See, this doesn't hurt that badly," he assured, pinching one of your fingers between the pen and his own thumb, careful not to apply enough pressure to earn the wrath of the god watching over you. No matter how hard he pressed, you didn't even flinch. You tenacious little thing.

Bruce slipped the pen back in his shirt pocket when he recognized it wasn't going to work.

"Uh... well, that wasn't helpful," he chuckled nervously. "Have you tried behind the knees?" He reached over and scratched at the back of your knee gently. You sleepily bent your knees to block out his access to the sensitive spot, that little smile tugging at your lips once again.

"I must request that we cease this until the game has finished," Thor insisted. "Clearly, the young agent requires additional sleep."

"You just want them to stop interrupting the game," Loki accused.

"I... yes, that would also be nice, thank you."

In a way, Loki was quite impressed that you'd managed to remain asleep throughout all of this. Even he, the God of Mischief, couldn't come up with another method to try to wake you that wasn't too cruel for him to care to attempt.

He decided to keep trying to wake you while the others watched the second half. He wasn't all too interested in the game anyhow, and Thor couldn't complain that he was interrupting his viewing time.

Loki was sure that he could wake you if he could just find the the spot that you were simply too ticklish to sleep through. While awake, you were devastatingly ticklish - barely a solitary squeeze to the side and you'd be giggling like mad. How your mind was able to block out the ticklish sensations only whilst you slept was beyond him.

He scratched his fingers along your belly just above your waistline as he began his mission to locate your weak spot. His fingertips traveled gently up the side of your stomach, around your side, down to squeeze at your hipbone for a moment. Your ribs, he knew, would have you howling with laughter if you were awake, and yet no matter how meticulously he searched along each rib for a trigger spot to wake you, you simply buried your face deeper into his stomach in your sleep. Loki had to abandon that spot, mostly because you'd begun to tickle him with your gentle breathy laughter against his thin shirt overlaying his belly. You infuriating little creature.

Tickling fingers traveled up to your neck, flitting lightly against the soft, silky skin. Curiously, he fluttered his fingers under your chin, chuckling fondly under his breath as you ducked your head and let out a breath of a laugh - still in your sleep, of course. Perhaps your back would do it?

Before shifting to try there, he scratched ever so gently just below your jawline, selfishly enjoying the adorable smile it brought to your face. His fingertips grazed along the thin skin just behind your ear unintentionally.

Suddenly, you squeaked.

It was barely audible over the noise of the game and the cheering of the others in the room, but it was undeniable - you had squeaked. A sly grin spread across Loki's face as he averted his full attention to that spot, ghosting his fingertips around and behind your ear. Your face scrunched up into a huge smile, then slowly, your eyes cracked open.

"What..."

"Ah, she awakens at last." Loki caught your wrist before you could block his tickling fingers with your hand, continuing to flit the fingertips of his free hand around the hypersensitive shell of your ear. Rapid, squeaky giggles bubbled from your mouth as you tried shrugging your shoulder up to block him.

"Hehey!! You wahanted me to slee-heep, and then yohou tickle mehe??" you whined sleepily.

"Darling, you've been asleep for nearly two hours," Loki informed you, pausing his torment as your mouth dropped open.

"Two hours?? But then I... I missed two games??"

"A game and a half, actually," Bucky called from his seat. The room had now realized you were awake. "But the end of this one has been a nail-biter!"

Scowling, you shifted to sit up so you could watch the television. Loki couldn't hold back from pinching your side once, drawing your attention just long enough for him to say I told you so. You returned the favor by poking him in the stomach, earning a jolt and a glare from the god that he didn't truly mean.

With the added rest, you returned right back to your usual ways. You were on your feet with every goal, screaming at the referee on the screen for every penalty as though he could hear you, cheering when the opposing team missed a score. You were rambunctious, loud, and vicious. All traits Loki had come to love about you.

But if there was one thing he'd learned today, it was this:

Even someone as fierce as yourself had a weakness.

#ticklish!reader #tickle fluff #tickle fic #marvel tickle #avengers x fem!reader #ler!bucky #ler!thor #ler!loki #ler!Steve Rogers #ler!Bruce #ler!Natasha #ler!Clint #ler!Tony

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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!!

#tickle fic #marvel tickle #lee!reader #ticklish!reader #ticklish ribs #bucky barnes #steve rogers #tony stark #natasha romanoff #clint barton #bruce banner #loki god of mischief #thor odinson #sam wilson #christmas fic #merry christmas #peter parker

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widowsistersandfriends · 8 months

Text

Tickle Trap

Request: The reader is Steves younger sister. She wants to join the Avengers like her best friend peter and the rest of her family. Steve, however, is very much against it due to his overprotective nature, and the reader is still young (still in high school with spiderling). Despite having no superhuman abilities, she wants to prove herself. One day, while rummaging through old items in the Avengers compound, the reader stumples upon Natashas old (outdated) spy tech - seeing it as her golden opportunity to prove herself. Maybe if she can trick and trap her brother, he will see she is more than capable. However, as she has no real training or idea on how to use the stuff, she quickly traps herself, leaving her to her brother's (nonexistent, as bad guys don't show it in the field) mercy

Notes: Thank you so much for this request! I love the idea behind it, and I had a lot of fun writing it! Thanks for being patient for this fic, I appreciate it! I also added Natasha in there to help enhance the plot, and I hope you enjoy! Also special thanks to @thenigotthisfamily for helping me figure out the ending! ❤️

Word Count: 1820

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“How come I can’t be cool like the rest of you?” You questioned Steve, who was your older brother and the famous Captain America. Despite not having any superhuman strength or superpowers, there was nothing more you wanted than being an Avenger.

“Because, it’s too dangerous, and I don’t want you getting hurt,” he replied.

“I could say the same thing about you. How come it’s okay for you to get hurt?” You persisted.

“There’s a much lower chance of me getting hurt due to my super strength. Besides, you’re too young anyway,” Steve said.

“I’m the same age as Peter! He gets to be an Avenger,” you said unhappily.

“He’s only an Avenger because he was bitten by a spider that gave him spider senses. Otherwise he’d be too young and not fit either,” Steve said.

You huffed in annoyance, knowing that you would find a way no matter what.

The next day, you were rummaging in the old storage room at the compound. You were looking for something easy enough to use so you could prove your skills to your older brother. You tossed a few things aside, as they looked too complicated. However, you now stumbled upon what looked like a simple contraption with a remote control. Once the button was pressed, the trap was activated, and the person would be trapped in it. Not only would you prove that you could use their equipment, you would also show that you could outsmart a superhero. Your plan was to wait in Steve’s room and hide. When he entered, you would activate the trap. However, things don’t always go as planned.

You were hiding in Steve’s room behind his dresser. You smiled to yourself, giddy to see your plan in action. However, while you were squatting there, you felt a cramp form in your foot, causing you to fall out of your squatting position and hit the button with your knee. With that, the device activated, ropes shooting out at once and quickly trapping you to the wall with your hands and arms away from your body.

“Oh no! I’m so screwed,” you said to yourself, struggling to break free. If your brother caught you getting trapped with your own trap, he would never believe you had what it takes to be an Avenger. You contemplated whether you should struggle more to escape, or call it quits and yell for help. You twisted and turned, but the trap was so tight and well done that there was no hope. You swallowed hard before shouting, “Somebody help! I’m stuck!”

“Is that Y/N?!?” You heard Steve gasp from downstairs, as you also heard Natasha telling Steve that she would come help.

You heard footsteps trampling up the stairs quickly, and before you knew it, you had to face the music. The music of embarrassment.

“Hi guys,” you said shyly, avoiding eye contact.

“Y/N, what on earth happened?” Steve and Natasha asked at the same time.

You thought about whether you should lie or not. Lying may make them forgive you faster, but you also knew you were a terrible liar. You took a deep breath before speaking.

“I uhh found this thing, and it trapped me?” You finished, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

“Where did you find my old spy gear?” Natasha asked, shocked that it was even still around and worked. You didn’t say anything, as you weren’t sure how to get out of answering that question.

“Are you okay Y/N? Like is it hurting you?” Steve asked. You shook your head no.

“Well, we’re both glad you’re okay, but I still don’t understand how any of this happened,” Natasha said, looking around the room for any clues.

“Did someone else do this to you?” It’s okay to tell us, we promise we won’t get you in trouble or anything,” Steve said, worried that someone messed with his little sister.

“No, I promise no one else was involved and didn’t hurt me,” you reassured them.

“So if no one else was involved, that means you trapped yourself? Why would you do that?” Steve asked.

“I plead the fifth,” you said, sticking your tongue out at your brother, now being silly after clearing up that you weren’t hurt or picked on by anyone.

Steve looked taken aback at first, but quickly righted himself.

“Oh so you want us to get that information out of you huh?” Steve said, walking over to you, with Natasha not too far behind.

“Wait! No! What are you gonna do to me?” You asked, suddenly feeling very exposed. You were trapped against the wall, no part of you was touching the ground. Only the wall.

“Let’s just say, we know every human’s weakness,” Steve said, grinning at Natasha.

With that, Steve reached out to tickle your sides, causing you to scream with laughter in response.

“STEHEHEVE STAHAHAHAP THAHAHAT,” you laughed, unable to hold it in.

“Better tell us what happened then,” he teased. He knew you were stubborn, so he targeted all your weak spots. Luckily for him, you had many of them to choose from.

You squealed with laughter as he began vibrating his fingers between your ribs, a spot that you absolutely could not stand.

“PLEHEHEASE IHIHI SWEHEHEAR IHIHIHI CAHAHANT TAHAHAHAKE IHIHIT,” you screamed.

“Oh you’ll take it. At least until you spill,” Natasha said, now bending down to tickle your feet with her ridiculously perfectly sharp nails. To make it worse, Steve was now digging into your armpits, making you wheeze with laughter.

They could tell you were getting out of breath, so they gave you a break and a chance to talk.

“Ready to talk little missy,” Natasha said, coming over to poke your tummy. You flinched and bit back a giggle.

“Not to you,” you replied, knowing it would only cause trouble. The redhead began to quickly spider her nails over your kneecaps, a spot you didn’t even know could be ticklish.

You snorted hard, shaking your head from side to side, as you wiggled your legs as much as you could to get away from the tortuous nails.

“Natahahahasha stahahahap plehehehease,” you giggled breathlessly.

“Come on, you know you want to spill,” Natasha teased.

“Okahahahay plehehehease juhuhust stahahahap,” you barely managed to get out. Natasha stopped tickling you, as they both waited for a response.

“We’re waitinggggg,” Steve said goofily.

“Keep waiting,” you said smugly, knowing exactly how to get on your brother’s every nerve.

“You really want me to get that spot, don’t you?” Steve asked with a smirk.

“NO PLEASE! ANYWHERE BUT THEHEHEHEHERE STAHAHAHAP OHOHO MY GOHOHOSH PLEHEHEASE,” you screamed, as Steve wiggled his finger around your belly button.

“Spill, Y/N, or Natasha will go get an electric toothbrush. Your eyes widened at that, assuming it would be a thousand times worse than this already was.

“OHOHOKAHAHAY IHIHI WAS TRYIHING TOHO PROHOVE THAHAT I COULD BEHEHE AN AVEHEHENGER,” you shouted, desperate for your worst tickle spot to stop being tortured.

“Oh Y/N, I know you want to be an Avenger,” Steve said softly.

“But this could’ve been really dangerous. What was your plan to use this anyway?” Natasha asked.

“I was gonna wait for Steve to come in, and I would hide and trap him to prove that I could use the same tools a spy once did,” you said, now feeling small.

To your surprise, Natasha grinned and came over and patted you on the head.

“I have to say, that wasn’t a bad plan, and I would’ve loved to see that happen,” Natasha said with a laugh.

“Hey!! That’s mean,” Steve said, as you giggled.

“I’m sorry for putting myself into potential danger and not listening to you,” you apologized.

“It’s okay, Y/N, we just want you to be safe and away from harm. As an older brother, it’s natural for me to protect you from harm’s way,” Steve said, as you nodded.

“I still think we gotta tickle her a little more as punishment,” Natasha said cheekily.

“Right, make her sorry for all the times she’s asked to be an Avenger,” Steve said, as the two of them were formulating a plan telepathically. With that, Natasha pushed a little on your back, as the trap gave a little room for you to arch your back. “Does this tickle?” Natasha asked, slowly spidering her nails over your lower back.

“YEHEHES IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES NOW STAHAHAHAP,” you laughed, arching your back, leaving your tummy out for Steve to tickle.

You were a mess of laughter now, wanting to both arch your back and suck in your stomach. The fact that one had to be sacrificed was torture to you. You lost it when Steve went back to your belly button, along with the back tickles.

“GUHUHUYS PLEHEHEASE NOHOHO MOHOHORE ENOHOUGH,” you squealed, turning red and beginning to sweat. The two of them had mercy and pulled away, releasing you from the trap.

“Oh my gosh, you guys are the worst. Who the heck is that good at tickling,” you grumbled.

“Us apparently,” Steve said, smiling down at you. You rolled your eyes in response.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Natasha asked, as you nodded.

“Hey don’t worry kid, we all make mistakes. But, I have something in mind that might make you feel better,” Natasha said. Your ears perked up and you turned towards her.

“While you don’t have superhero powers, that doesn’t mean you can’t be a part of our team. Why don’t I make you the master tickler of the team?” Natasha said reactivating the device, this time on Steve, putting him in the exact same situation you were in.

“Natasha don’t you dare!” Steve shouted, trying to remain calm.

“Allow me to tell you exactly how to wreck the brave and strong Captain America,” the redhead said, telling you where to attack.

“You TRAITOHOHOR!” Steve laughed, as you tickled into his deep hollows. A spot that Natasha frequently targeted when they had tickle fights.

“You may be able to beat me in a fight of strength, but you can’t beat me in a tickle fight,” you teased, poking his ribs.

“Y/N STAHAHAP IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES,” Steve squealed, making you giggle. You gave his sides a good squeeze and even found a good spot around his ears and neck, thanks to Natasha’s help.

Eventually you let him go after getting a good amount of revenge. Natasha knew she would be the next target, so she ran off faster than light. Unfortunately for her, she had left the device behind. So you and your older brother planned revenge. The best way siblings could bond. You also had a new title of Master Tickler at the compound, which many of them found ironic given how ticklish you were. But it didn’t matter, since you had an official title with the group you belonged with. The Avengers.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

All the Good Girls Go To Hell 21

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, injury, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Enjoy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The warm pressure of Bucky's fingertips release the tension from your soles and radiates up your legs. You feel yourself slumping further against the armrest, watching the television as you try not to be too aware of his touch. It's hard to ignore as a groan slips between your lips. You sink down, extending your legs so he can get a better grasp.

“Good?” He asks lightly.

“Mhmm,” you hum, “it's nice.”

He keeps on, his large hands around your foot as he rolls his knuckle into your arch. You let out an embarrassing noise and giggle as his tending turns ticklish. You sit up suddenly, cheeks burning as your thighs tingle.

He looks at you surprised as you plant your palms and hold yourself out. You lift a hand and fix your glasses. You give a sheepish smile and wiggle your toes.

“Tickly,” you carefully raise your feet and bend your legs. He reluctantly lets you go as disappointment wrinkles in his forehead.

“Sorry,” he apologises.

“No, no, it's okay,” you turn straight, hanging your legs over the edge as you come to sit in the middle of the sofa, “I'm just sensitive.”

“Ah, and I can be a bit overbearing,” he adds.

You fold your hands in your lap and smile, your eyes drifting back to the television as you divert your attention to the cat fight over an over extravagant brunch. You feel his gaze, it has you paralysed. He sighs and stretches his arm over the back of the couch. You stay along the edge, pretending to be rapt in the on-screen drama.

His leg sways one way then the other. He blows out a long breath and the tension mingles with a sweltering heat. You wince as you feel a brush along your arm and glance over as he pushes the strap of your shirt back over your shoulder.

He smiles as you peek down at the fabric. You meet his gaze again as his fingertips linger on your skin, caressing in circles as he sits forward. You tilt your head, spellbound by his slow movement.

You gulp as you feel the tugging force between you. Like a magnet you can't help but lean in as he leans closer. Your eyes go wide as you realise what's about to happen. He's going to kiss you and you're not going to stop him.

His breath swathes around you as he grips your shoulder, hand crawling towards your neck. He brings his fingers under your chin and angles your head back as you shift towards him. Your noses brush against each other but your lips can't meet before a sudden bang draws you apart.

You sit back and cross your arms, cheeks burning as Bucky stands abruptly. He clears his throat as you shake your head and clamp your lips tight. That was too close.

“Yo,” Naomi hollers as she prances into the room, stopping short as Bucky distances himself from you. You're stunned by her arrival, her nonchalance unexpected given her storming out days before. “Huh,” she looks between you and her smile falls to a scowl, “am I interrupting?”

“Wasn't expecting you,” Bucky grits.

“Clearly,” she scoffs as you fold your hands and stare at her helplessly, “you move on fast.”

“It's not–” you begin but go unheard as Bucky speaks over you.

“And you sure are a good friend. Took me all day to clean that shit off her car,” he snarls, “so unless it's an apology, you won't talk to her.”

“Oh, this is so rich. Her?” Naomi blusters.

“It's about decency,” he insists, “why are you even here? Shouldn't you be with the worm?”

“I came back to check on her–”

“Sure,” Bucky crosses his arms and you watch his shoulders bulge, “you left her all alone yesterday and now you care so much, huh?”

“I'm sure you were right there with your little act to sweep her off your feet. You should be thanking me,” she accuses, “she's my friend. She just feels sorry for a pathetic old man like you.”

You stand up, standing just behind Bucky. He has no response, throwing up his hands as he blows between his lips. He waves her off dismissively.

“Whatever, Mimi, I'm the bad guy,” he mutters.

“It's not true,” you say as he turns away from her, “please– I… Nay,” you pass him as he drags his feet. You stop in front of Naomi, watching her expectantly, “I'm here because you ditched me. Last night… I said no. I said no and you violated me.”

She rolls her eyes, “we were having fun.”

“It wasn't fun for me,” you retort.

She puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head defiantly, “it was a kiss–”

“That it? No sorry?” You sputter, genuinely hurt.

“Well, uh, yeah,” her voice warbles, “I'm sorry, sure, I didn't think you'd freak out–”

“Sorry I freaked out? Nay,” you pout, “come on.”

She sighs and looks past you. You know he's still there but he won't look at her. You don't blame him. You're not the only she betrayed.

“You lied to me. About everything.”

“I had to–”

“Your parents never kicked you out, did they?” You interject. She winces, taken aback by your abruptness. “Tell me the truth.”

She drops her eyes and shrugs, “I couldn't stay–”

“Did they?” You ask quietly.

She clicks her tongue and stomps her heeled sandal, “no, okay? But I couldn't stay there. It doesn't change anything. Bucky's still an old creep–”

Bucky sniffs but says nothing. The tension roils around you as you're caught between them. You can't keep doing this. You have to choose.

“Naomi,” Bucky rasps as he approaches, “I won't throw you out. I know you have no where else–”

You cross your arms as your spine goes rigid. She rolls her eyes again. How much has she had handed to her and spat back? She had somewhere to go, she has a dozen people who want her, but you're not one of them anymore.

“If she stays, I'm leaving,” you declare, “so better make up your mind, Nay.”

You sidestep her, nearly brushing against her as she lets out a pathetic noise. You don't look back as you charge across the room. You're done being lost, you'll go home and deal with that mess. You can't live by Naomi's rules anymore.

“You can't do this,” she whines, “you know he'll choose you.”

You don't listen. You scurry down the hall and into the guest room. You close the door and lean against it, breathless.

The scene unfurls in your mind. Only nights before, Naomi on top of Bucky, taunting him. She blames him but you heard it all. She was begging him and he said no.

You march to the nightstand and grab your bag. You don't have much to your name, only a car declaring you as scum. The thought of going back to your mom chills you but you could drive up to your dad's. He can't turn you away if you're already there, can he?

You shove your few possessions into the bag and whip open the door. You're an adult, you need to stop expecting others to take care of you. You'll just grab your phone and be gone.

As you come out, you find Bucky standing with his back to you. He leans on the wall, his arm bent as if he’s cradling his head. You peer around at the empty room.

“I'm going–”

“You too?” He asks softly.

“I think I should. I don't want to put her out–”

“She left,” he murmurs and lets out a hiss, “don't think she'll be back.”

“Why do you say that? Bucky, what's wrong?”

“If you're going, please just do it,” he begs.

His voice is barely more than a croak. Is he crying? You near him, leaning to the side as you try to get a glimpse of him. He shies away so you grab his arm. He lets you turn him as he drops his hand from his cheek.

There's a bright red welt on his cheek bone and a gash just below his eye. You gasp and drop your bag. He blinks his injured eye and turns his face away.

“What happened?” You squeak.

“She just… she was upset–”

“Naomi did this?” You gasp.

He chuckles then winces, “those shoes she wears, they always looked painful, just didn't think like that.”

“What? She hit you with her shoe?” You exclaim, searching around him.

“She's gone,” he assures you, “think she scared herself even.”

“Bucky,” you step closer, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?” He gives a rocky laugh.

“I… it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have confronted her like that–”

“Not the first time,” he shakes his head, “definitely not your fault.”

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing, please. Don’t let me keep you. You need anything? Gas money?”

You take a breath and close your eyes. You feel worse leaving him like this. He says it’s not your fault but you can’t help but feel it is.

“Is… is it okay if I stay?” You flutter your lashes open.

“Only if you want to,” he tries to smile and once more reaches to his cheek.

“Oh, you need to get some ice on that,” you say.

“I look that bad?”

“I mean it, it’s swelling already,” you bend to pick up your bag and stride past him.

You enter the kitchen and plunk your bag on the counter as you pass. You open the freezer and search around. You find a bag of frozen veggies and snatch the cloth from across the oven handle. You wrap up the cold package and turn to face Bucky as he shuffles in.

“Here,” you cross to him and hold out the icy packet.

He thanks you as he takes it and leans on the island, pressing it to his cheek. He groans as he plants his elbow. You smile nervously, unsure what to do next.

“Do you need Advil or something? Can I get you anything?” You offer.

“Please, please, I’m good,” he says, “you’ve done more than enough.” You can only see his one eye as the other is hidden behind the iced veggies, “you’re too sweet. Really.”

“I’m just doing what anyone would do,” you shrug.

“No, not anyone,” he assures you.

🏡

It’s hard to settle down for the night. The shadow of adrenaline follows you into the guest room and you try to close it out as the door clicks behind you. It’s the buzzing sensation of being overtired but slightly too addled to calm down.

You left Bucky in the living room. He seemed less than eager to turn in himself. Guilt nips at you but he insisted that you go to bed. It’s probably for the better. You assume he needs some time alone after a day like that.

You change into your pajamas and prop up your phone on the nightstand. You shut off the light and nestle into the fresh sheets, fragrant with fabric softener. Your nerves ease down as your eyes cling to the small screen glowing in the dark, the colours blurring together as your eyelids grow heavy.

You feel yourself sink into your subconscious. It’s a swirling black, turbulent but void. You feel like your swaying on a tide, rising and falling with a steady ebb and flow. From the shallowness that has you vaguely aware of the room to the deep sludge that makes your headache.

You wake with a start. You’re not sure what woke you but it’s completely black. Your phone doesn’t respond as you hit the home button. It’s dead.

You rub your eyes and yawn, feeling around for your glasses on the night table. You want to just roll over and fall back asleep but your bladder squeezes uncomfortably. You surrender and drag yourself from the bed.

You let yourself into the hall. The house is silent but a light glows still from down the hall. You cross the hall and dip into the bathroom. You take your time, your movement lazy with the dregs of your exhaustion.

You dry off your hands and go back into the hall. You stop and listen to the house. You hear something, a low, inconsistent noise. Something shuddering from the front room. You peek over at the guest room door then back again.

It’s probably the wind or something. Bucky has to be asleep by now. You go into the front room and find it empty.

You go to turn off the light and let out a squeak of surprise. Bucky lays across the couch, his head propped against the armrest as he holds a whisky bottle against his chest.

“Hey, doll,” he slurs.

“Bucky,” you bat your lashes.

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He babbles before covering his mouth, stifling a belch.

“Are you… okay?” You inch closer and see how his head lolls.

“Fine,” he drones, his eye purplish blue as a large bump swells on his cheek, “I’m just… having a midnight snack.”

He wiggles the bottle and you glance over at the time digitally displayed under the television. You frown. It’s almost three in the morning. You cautiously edge along the couch, drawn by the onus of your own regretful drunken shame.

“It’s late,” you say as you stop beside him, “how about you save the rest?”

You grab the neck of the bottle and he clings to it a moment before letting it go. You nearly slosh it on yourself. You set it on the table behind you and face him again.

“I’m sorry,” he mopes, “I don’t drink… not alone.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, “do you want some water?”

He closes his eyes, “please, I’m so embarrassed. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“You know I won’t judge you. I was a bigger mess last night.”

He turns his head away from you. The difference between you and him is that you can’t just carry him off to his bed. You gently touch his arm and balance on the edge close to him, rubbing his shoulder.

“It’s okay to be sad about Naomi,” you coax.

He nods and keeps his face averted. You squeeze his arm, feeling the thick muscle of his bicep. The scent of alcohol ripples off of him.

“You still need to sleep though,” you say, “so why don’t you get up–”

He turns his head back suddenly and grabs your hand. There’s a desperate blaze behind his oceanic eyes. He clings to your tightly, “I’m not sad about her,” he garbles, “doll, I’m heartbroken…” he wiggles his nose as his eyes sparkle, “over you.”

“Bucky,” you murmur, “you're drunk.”

“I am,” he croons, “but I still feel the same. Doll, I only ever think of you.”

You sit there, speechless. You don’t know how to react. You want to chalk it up to whiskey and stress. You want to just get him to bed and pretend he never said it in the morning. Yet something else in you wants him more. You know you shouldn’t, but you do.

Even so, it can’t be like this.

“I… I like you, Bucky,” you slip your hand free of his and brush a shank of hair away from his forehead, “but I like you even more when you’re sober.”

“Mmmm,” he groans and drops his chin, “I’m sorry, doll.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you tap the tip of his nose, “just get up and go to bed. Sleep it off and we can talk in the morning.”

He nods and gulps thickly, “alright, doll. For you, I’ll do anything.”

He reaches up and braces the back of the couch. You stand as he pushes himself up, wobbling just slightly as he gets to his feet. You grab his arm, offering what little support you can. He smiles down at you and caresses your cheek as he sways.

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” He asks.

“Bed,” you remind him firmly.

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