Hello 🤍

Michelle. 24.

[son-of-a-bee]

a compilation of janus being disgusted by weddings because he's hilarious

[veryoldnobodylookatthis]

virgil’s inner monologue, everyone

[dilf-patton-deactivated20220806]

I’m dyyyyyinggggg this is me all the time

[princeanxious]

I can never not reblog when this pops up on my dash oh my goooood

[remus-fuqqen-sanderz-deactivate]

I-

[fluffymcu]

Bleachers (Bucky x reader)

Highschool AU

warnings: mentions of making out? Nothing graphic though.

This is my first time writing something like this, I surprised myself with this one, hope y’all enjoy! This is a highschool AU that takes place around the early 90’s so it has a little bit of 40’s Bucky vibes. I really enjoyed writing this :)

Fun fact: I kinda dreampt this up in my head while trying to go to sleep but it kept on going so I decided this was too good of an opportunity to pass up so I got up and risked a good nights sleep and wrote this and now here I am :) no regrets tho.

—-

You pulled out your math and reading books out of your locker and put them in your backpack before taking a look in the small mirror you ínstaled in the door of your locker and fixing a few stray hairs. A few seconds later, the air around you was filled with a very familiar scent of cologne.

“Hey pretty girl, where are you headed?” You blushed at the pet name your boyfriend had for you as you turned around to face him.

“Calculus. You?” You greet, draping your backpack over your shoulders.

“Gym.” Bucky nods. You pause to look at him with narrowed eyes.

“You don’t have gym this period.” You say, a slight smile playing at your lips.

“No? Then what do I got, doll face?” He smirks.

“I don’t know exactly what class you have but It ain’t gym!” You scoffed.

“I thought I’d skip science today” he shrugs.

“Bucky!” You scold, a hand on your hip.

“What? It’s one class! It ain’t gonna hurt.” He brushes it off, leaning against one of the lockers. You roll your eyes. “Why don’t ya skip with me? It’d be a lot more fun if you were there with me.”

“No thanks.” You say quickly, as you begin to walk to class. You may have been dating a “bad boy” but it didn’t mean you were itching to do the things he did.

“Aww come on doll, why not? Just one class!” He started.

“No Bucky.” You sighed. You weren’t giving in that easily.

“Pleaseee?” He begged. With a sigh, you stop and look at him. He increases his puppy eyes as you look. “Please.”

“Don’t look at me like that Buck, you know it makes me give in.” You chuckle as you continue walking, silently waving at some of your friends in the hall.

“That’s why I’m doin’ it doll face. Just one class.” He chuckled, still on the subject.

“No Bucky. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” You sigh.

“Because why?” He insists, stepping in front of you, stopping you from moving.

“Bucky-“ You start.

“Please, dolly just one class. Just stick with me, you won’t get caught. I promise.” You look into his pleading blue eyes.

“I don’t like the idea of this Bucky...” you whined.

“Come on, I’ll show you my hideouts and my shortcuts. It’ll be fun! Doll, I know you want to.” He sang, poking a few times at your belly, making you flinch and bat his hands away.

“Don’t, buck.”

“Then skip with me.” He asked again. After a few moments of thinking you finally give in with a sigh.

“Just one class, Buck. I mean it.”

With a blinding smile, Bucky cheers and wraps his arm around your shoulder, guiding you. “I knew you’d come around, doll face. Come on, we’ll take a shortcut.”

—

You both arrive at the gym doors and Bucky quickly glimpses through the small glass window to see the gym coach’s back towards you. With a nod, he opens the door and rushes you in, pulling you in a space behind the bleachers.

“Are you sure no one will see us?” You asked nervously, looking cautiously at all the kids playing volleyball and practimg running drills.

“Positive. We’re safe here.” Bucky said with a reassuring smile. You nod and start to take out some papers from your backpack, a moment of silence between the two with just the sounds of whistles and shoes squeaking in the gym floor. Bucky furrows his brows. “Whoa, what are you doin’?”

You look at him innocently. “Homework.”

Bucky laughed, raising his eyebrows and taking the papers off your lap. “Darlin’ I think you’re missin the point of skipping class. The idea is to not do schoolwork.”

“Well, there’s not much else to do now that we’re just stuck here behind the bleachers.” You shrugged. Bucky smirked and leaned closer.

“I can think of a few things...” he said before capturing your lips in a kiss. It didn’t take long for it to evolve into a full on make out session though, Bucky always makes sure of that. As his hands stroked your sides, holding you from falling, one of his hands gripped a bit too tight, making it have more of a tickly feeling.

With a squeak, you flinch and break away from the kiss, your cheeks flushed and lips a bit swollen. Bucky chuckled when he realized what triggered your reaction. A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes.

“Are you really that ticklish?” He teased.

“Yes- I mean, no. I’m- not really..” you waved your arm, trying to brush it off, still panting from the kissing session you had. But Bucky wasn’t taking any of it.

“I think you are,” he sang, poking and squeezing at your sides.

You squealed and fell with your back on the bench. “Bucky! Stohop! You’ll get us cahaught!” You struggled to keep your laughter under control, panicking inside, afraid one of the students would call attention to you and your boyfriend skipping class.

However, Bucky didn’t listen and instead was too entertained by how ticklish you were. He moved from scratching at your sides and ribs to digging his fingers into your hips.

You squirmed and bucked your hips, failing miserably at containing your laughter. You tried your best to slap at his hands but it didn’t seem to faze him. “Buhuhuhucky stahahahahap!” You squealed, looking around to make sure no one saw you. The gym was already very loud but that didn’t mean you could let your guard down.

Bucky chuckled at your giggly state and reached behind to pinch behind your thighs. You couldn’t hold back as you let out a scream of surprise and kick your legs out, immediately covering your mouth after. “Alright, alright I’ll stop.” He laughed. Thankfully no one had payed attention to your scream.

Bucky helped you sit up after you had caught your breath and you playfully hit him in the chest. “Bucky, you idiot! You could have gotten us in trouble!” You scolded him.

Bucky only laughed and pulled you to his side. “Relax, pretty girl. I told you, as long as you stick with me, you ain’t gettin caught. I promised you that didn’t I? Now. How bout we go hang for a bit at the stairwell next to Mrs. Benning’s classroom, then we can get a head start at the line for lunch, eh?” You smiled, blushing a bit before nodding and following Bucky out the gym.

⭐️should I do more of these tickle related AUs?⭐️

[fluffymcu]

Spider phobia (Peter Parker x reader)

Summary: reader has a spider phobia but is dating Spider-Man and Peter teases her about it.

Warnings: none

"AHHH! Peter!" You screamed from the kitchen. Peter was in his room studying when he heard you and ran to kitchen. "What?! What is it? Are you okay?" He sounded frantic. You were on top of the counter scared for your life. You pointed at something on the floor.

"What? I don't see anything." He said. You looked at him like he was an alien. "You can't see that gigantic tarantula that's on the floor 3 feet next to you?!" He looked again and finally saw it.

A teensy, bitsy spider.

"...its just a spider." He started. You scoffed and rolled your eye. "Just a spider." You mocked. He looked at you for a minute before he smirked. "Are you scared of spiders?" You rolled your eyes again. "Duh!" He doubled over in laughter and you gave him your meanest b-face. "Thahat is Soho irohonic." He finally calmed down and left the kitchen only for a moment before coming back with toilet paper. He got close to the spider and observed it closely. "Oh, cousin Joe! Is that you?" He joked and looked up at you to see if you would laugh. "Can you kill it please?" He chuckled and smushed it easily. "There, it's gone." "Thank you." He went over to carry you off the counter. "I never knew you were scared of spiders." You brushed yourself off. "Well, it's just never come up." He paused. "So... Are you scared of me?" You groaned and hit him in the chest. "Ihim just saying! I mean, I'm literally Spider-Man, the human spider." You nodded. "Yes, but like you said: human spider. You don't look like a spider. You have their powers, not their looks, thank God." He smirked. "So if I looked like a spider, would you still love me?" You turned to look at him. "Dohont doho thahat." You chuckled. "I'm just asking. Would you?" "I'm not answering that question." You said. He decided to let it go for now. "So, is it like a phobia or something?" He asked. You rolled your eyes. "Oh my God, so many questions. Yes. It's a phobia. I've had it since I was 4. Now, are you done?" He smirked. "Aww, my baby's scared of little spiders." He teased and went to squeeze you tightly in a hug. "Ok, can you stop teasing me now?" He let you go and ruffled your hair. "Are you scared of all types of spiders, or is it just a certain type?" "Ugh! Of course I'm scared of ALL types, Peter. I feel like every spider I see is gonna jump at me and... I don't know, eat me I guess." Peter burst out laughing. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smirk a little now that you heard yourself out loud.

"Stohop." You pushed at his shoulder and he chuckled and pulled you to him. "I'm just playing around." He kissed your forehead and pinched your side. You flinched and looked up at him and saw that he was smirking. You knew he wasn't even close to being done with teasing you.

He squeezed your side again and you pushed yourself from him. "Stohop." He smiled mischeviously at you and stepped closer. "Uh oh, the spider's gonna getcha!" He started. You groaned and pointed your fingers at him. "Don't you dare start with that peter!" You warned. "Oh no, look out it's gonna catch you!" He lunged at you and you ran to your room. He was hot on your heels and was about to catch you when you moved to the side and let him run past you so you could run the opposite way.

You ran back to the living room and circled around the couch to keep distance between you two. "Whatcha gonna do?" He flinched at you and you giggled. "Dohohont peheter." You begged. "I haven't even caught you yet." He laughed. "Here comes the spider..." He wiggled his fingers at you. You started giggling and stepped back. He then jumped over the couch, grabbed you, and threw you albeit gently onto the couch, all in just under a second. "Gotcha!" He chuckled. You squirmed around trying to escape but he had straddled your waist expertly. "Lehet me gohoho!" He shook his head and started spider tickling down your belly and sides. "The spider's got you now. And he won't be letting you go anytime soon." He whispered in your ear. Your face turned a bright red as you blushed. "stohohop! Peheheter! Dohohont!" He went to count your ribs one by one and counted them. By the time he finished, you had tears in your eyes and you were so red.

"The itsy, bitsy spider went up the water spout..." He sang and blew a raspberry on your neck. "AHHH! NOHOHOT THEHERE! HAHAHAHA DOHOHONT DOHOHO THAHAT!" You threw your hands at him and he grabbed your wrists. "Not there? Ok, what about here?" He bent down and blew a big, slobbery raspberry on your belly while holding your wrists above your head. You screamed and shook your head repeatedly. He let go of your wrists but continued to give your belly raspberries until you couldn't even form proper words anymore. "PEHEHEHE! PLEAHEHEHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHO!" He smiled down at your small frame and finally decided you'd had enough. He let you go and you sat up on the couch. Peter rested his head on his fist and looked at you while you caught your breath. You were holding on to your stomach with your legs crossed. "You are so mean. I hate you." He chuckled. "Have you ever been bit by a spider?" He asked. You shook your head. "No. I never let one get close to me."

A moment passed before Peter grabbed you and nuzzled his face in your neck, making you giggle. "Stohohop!" He kept going for a few more seconds before biting you. "OHOHOW!" You slapped him in the chest. He sat back and smiled cheekily.

"Now you have."

[tickles-in-ficland]

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.

[fluffymcu]

Easy break

Request: Could you write one where reader is giving Bucky or Steve the silent treatment and he tickles the reader to make them talk? Please and thank you.

This is short blurb

You were covered head to toe under the covers, ignoring Bucky all day. He had made a suggestive joke to you in front of the whole team with no shame. You were the type to get embarrassed very easily and Bucky liked to tease you about it. So when he had mercilessly flirted with you in the kitchen, making Sam, Nat, Clint and Tony make oooh noises, you slapped his arm and hurried out of the kitchen, completely embarrassed.

After a while you heard the door to your shared bedroom open and close. Heavy footsteps echoed through the room and it wasn’t long before you felt Bucky get under the covers behind you and hug your waist from behind. You stayed silent, still ignoring him.

“You still blushing?” He teased, wearing a knowing smirk. You silently bumped your elbow into his ribs making him laugh and hug you tighter. “Come ohohon, I was just messing around. No one’s mentioned anything about it since this morning, they’ve forgotten about it!” He whined playfully, gently shaking you side to side to make you say anything. You didn’t. He tried placing kisses along the back of your neck and shoulders, rubbing your belly lovingly, anything to bribe you to talk to him but you weren’t budging.

“Why won’t you talk to meeee?” He whined, rapidly poking your belly in desperation. You bit your lip trying to keep in your squeal and you squirmed around to try to get away from him. Bucky chuckled and pulled you closer to his chest, nuzzling his stubble in the crook of your neck. “Do I have to tickle you? Huh? To get you to talk?” He teased, smiling widely when he immediately heard you burst into bubbly giggles. He started to dig his fingers in the middle of your belly, making you arch your back against him and laugh even more. “Oooh, that tickles doesn’t it?? You wanna talk to me now?” You shook your head as you laughed, trying hard to control your laughter. Bucky snorted and teased your ribs suddenly, along with blowing a raspberry on your neck. 

With a loud squeal you kicked your legs out violently. “Dohohohont!!” You cried, falling into hysterics as he began to torture your hips.

“Oh, so she does speak!” He teased, moving around to where he’s straddling you. He lifted up your shirt and blew many tickly raspberries. “That’s good to hear!”

You let out loud belly laughter as you weakly pushed at his head. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go at all.

“Lehehet me GO!” You laughed, slapping at his head. Bucky say up and grabbed your wrists.

“But I thought you didn’t wanna talk to me? And I wanna spend time with you but since you won’t talk, I have to tickle you!” He shrugged, mercilessly shooting his free hand under your arms, making you scream.

“BUCKYHYHYHYYY! HAHAHAHASTAHAHAHAP!” You cried. Bucky chuckled and put all his weight on top of you, gathering you in a bear hug.

“You done with the silent treatment?” He asked, nibbling on your neck. You let out a bunch of airy giggles as you shrunk in on yourself.

“Okahahay! I’m dohohone!” You whine, smiling when his eyes met yours with a smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” You giggled.

“Mmm, and I’m lucky you’re ticklish.” He chuckled, squeezing your side to prove his point before capturing your lips with his.

[severalbadpunslater]

[haysgrove]

Thomas: my anxiety is being annoying but not in the way you expect

[writingfics-passingtime]

The Perfect Alibi

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

Pairing: Peter Parker x female reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1. No dating

2. No drugs/alcohol

3. No dating

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

5. NO DATING!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you let me see?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“These readings were taken in Antarctica, right?”

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

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

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

He… could he?

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

“I gave it away, didn’t I?”

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

“Where’s your roommate?”

“She’s never here.”

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

“Lucky. Mine will be back by now.”

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

“Can this stay between us?”

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

“And with first-aid.”

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

“What happened?”

“I’m too squeamish.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks for the reminder.”

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

“I’ll see you around.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please don’t.”

“One date?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An alibi.

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

“What is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I owe you one,” he smiled.

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

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

“So you’re saying I saved your life?”

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

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

“Dinner, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

“With a really cute guy!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah!” You jumped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a huge nerd, aren’t you?”

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

And it did work. Really well, in fact.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All in all, you were making it work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine? Fine?!”

“Oh no-”

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

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

“Study?”

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

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

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

You raised an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me see.”

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

He chuckled and winked, “Ya soy fluido.”

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

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

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

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

“I think we’ve studied enough.”

“No, we haven’t.”

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

“Yours is green.”

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

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

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

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

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

“The museum.”

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

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

Where are you most ticklish?

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

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

“You’re not telling me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SMACK!

You didn’t mean to slap him.

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

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

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

“N-n-no! Don‘t you dare web me!”

Fwip.

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

“Mmmno. That one’s in time out.”

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

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

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

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

“IHI’M NOT TELLIHING YOU!”

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

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

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

“W-wait. No. No Peter, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter, no-”

“Peter, yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll come back.”

“DANA!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

“It is not necessary, you just-”

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

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

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

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

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

“You have to let me tickle you too.”

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[writingfics-passingtime]

Self-Defence

~4700 words of ler!Bucky tickle fluff

I received this prompt from a lovely reader who would prefer to stay anon 💜 Would you be willing to write a Bucky x reader fic where they’re in an established relationship and they’re sparring or he’s helping her with her fighting skills? And maybe he finds out she’s ticklish somehow during that.

I leaned into TFATWS Bucky for this one, though Bucky is still an unfamiliar character for me to write. Hope I can do him justice !!

CW: Mentions of fighting/killing, swearing

Pairing: Bucky x gender neutral reader

“Just basic self-defence,“ you promised earnestly, then laughed at his wary hesitance. “Bucky, I’m not trying to become an Avenger. I just think it would be good for me to know how to defend myself.”

Bucky pulled you closer against his side as you sat on your couch together, pressing a firm kiss into your temple. “What are you afraid of?”

“Living in New York City.” You looked at him and raised your eyebrows as if it were obvious. Bucky sighed and closed his eyes, a little resigned.

It was selfish, he knew it was, that he didn’t want to teach you any fighting skills. It’s not that he wanted to be needed, or that he wanted to be your hero, it’s that he loved how you felt so seperate from the whole world of violence. You were a strong person, and there was a softness and kindness to you, an innocence he didn’t see often.

His life, in the broken pieces he had lived it, had been the almost the opposite of yours.

His hands had taken countless lives, even before the serum. Sure, they were NAZI lives, though something about pulling a trigger and watching another person stop breathing just sticks with you. He sometimes remembered the people he killed as Sergeant James Barnes and not as a puppet, and wondered what had gone so horribly wrong for them to fight for something so evil.

You, on the other hand, had taken an oath to do no harm.

He met you in an army rehab clinic for amputees. He wasn’t a regular amputee, but you weren’t a regular doctor. Like many young people who didn’t grow up in a wealthy home, you signed up for the military to have your medical school costs covered in exchange for several years of service.

Four years into your degree you were topping all your classes and impressing every mentor you had, including the ones from the army. The US Military was desperate to keep you, so they gave you the best doctors to work under and, therefore, the most exciting and challenging patients to work on. So when you graduated you continued on helping out on the homeland; you preferred to work with veterans, and you were good enough to have your preferences catered to.

Bucky was good at reading people, good at seeing their intentions. After his pardon and the start of his reintegration into life, doctors and scientists were a part of his usual repertoire of appointments. He’d agreed to submit to tests regarding how the cryogenic freezing affected human life, how his metal arm was fused, anything that could assist in helping fellow soldiers who may be critically injured or needing a prosthetic. He refused, however, to submit to any testing which attempted to understand the serum. You seemed, Bucky read, outwardly uninterested in the serum and far more interested in how his body responded to his arm.

At first, Bucky hardly spoke to you as you worked with him and his prosthesis. You were focused, professional, gentle, deliberate with every movement. He could tell you were young, that perhaps you hadn’t been a doctor all that long, so he didn’t want to distract you. Besides, striking up a conversation would inevitably lead to questions and questions lead to frustration, guilt, regression. Thankfully, you had plenty to do and you never seemed phased by the silence in between your exchanges of medical information, the requests for how his body responded when you pressed here or there. Was that tender? Can you feel that?

Most of the tests were to make sure his muscle tissue wasn’t dying and that his bones were coping alright with the strain of the metal arm and its anchor plates. The results of which may help determine whether prosthetics such as his were safe enough to become standard issue.

One day, a couple month in, you were performing a scan to read his muscle mass to compare with his other arm and previous readings, pretty standard for his time on your tablle, and he was visited by a General while you were underway. Bucky noticed your jaw clench as the General tossed a mission file onto the exam table beside where Bucky was sitting upright.

“We need you, Sergeant,” the General said firmly, explaining there was a warlord holding a bunch of villagers hostage in a remote part of a South-East Asian country Bucky had never been to. “Those people may die without your help.”

“How much oil are they sitting on?” Bucky asked with an icy tone, opening the file with his right hand to take a look at the pictures meant to tug on his heartstrings.

“Sergeant, despite common misconceptions, the US government doesn’t invade every oil-rich country it its sights. These are lives, not barrels, that we’re looking to save.”

Bucky set his jaw and noticed your touch become a little more hesitant. You were listening. A glance from the corner of his eye told him you weren’t happy with what you were hearing. He’d have to get a better look at you to know if your tensed fingers were the result of the request, or his jab at his superior. Maybe you didn’t like conflict. That would be nice.

“I’ll think about it,” Bucky closed the file. “Let’s not distract the good doctor,” he tilted his head towards you and the General left. Bucky didn’t stand or salute. When you were alone with him again, Bucky chuckled once through his nose. “Got somethin’ to say?”

He didn’t turn his head to look at you, but you didn’t seem to react. “It’s your life,“ you’d said in a low voice as you turned and wrote some notes on his file. “No one has the right to tell you what to do. Certainly not me.”

“What if I’m interested in your professional opinion?”

You were silent as you looked at the closed Manila folder. “Tsinia?” He nodded. You nodded and wrote a few more notes. “My professional opinion is the Tsinian people have been living through a quasi-anarchy for nearly two decades and the United States has sent barely a million in aid. That’s less than twenty cents per capita,” you told him without looking up from your scribbling.

“Huh.”

“The US government doesn’t give a shit about Tsinia,” you continued, your writing becoming more tense. “They probably do give a shit about the gold mines that they’re paying off journalists to ignore.”

“How do you know they’re paying off journalists?”

You relaxed, stopping writing, and shrugged with one shoulder. “The fringe outlets are reporting it. The ones with integrity,” you looked him dead in the eyes, then seemed to realise you didn’t really do that a lot. Bucky didn’t blame you. He knew his stare could be intense. “I’m out of line. My apologies, Sergeant.”

“At least you’re honest.”

“That’ll get me fired,” you smiled sadly and clicked your pen shut. “We’re done for today.”

Bucky started taking more notice of you after that day. He liked that you spoke your mind when he asked, he liked that you swore in front of him and shared your dead-honest opinion. He’d seen his fair share of doctors and specialists to pick out a polite bedside manner from a mile away, but he began to notice you didn’t have that same clinical gaze the others had, maybe because you were new. Your interest seemed genuine, but you didn’t bombarde him with the unanswered questions he knew you must have.

A few weeks later, when he entered, you smiled, “I’d like to make sure your nerves are still fully functioning,” you said as he sat down. He’d done some of this before, though most of your work had been with his muscles and bones. “I want to use this to send pinpoint electric signals through your skin,” you held up a small silver rod that looked not unlike a pen. “Is it okay if I proceed?”

When he first started his treatment with you, Bucky found himself a little impatient going through the weekly routine of you asking permission to carry out any test you wanted to do. One day, when he was particularly under the weather, he almost snapped and told you to get on with it and stop asking every damn time. He was glad he didn’t; he knew wasn’t frustrated at you, not at all, but it seemed like something he could pin his annoyance on. Besides, he had enough to amends to make without creating more to jot down in his notebook. When he calmed down later, he thought of all those times again, and he softened into a silent guilt.

You were the first person ever to ask for explicit permission to lay your hands on him. That had to count for something.

So he decided he would be thankful every time you made sure it was okay. His therapist routinely said he should express gratitude more, and you liked subjecting him to tests, so surely he’d be allowed to test such things on you to see if it would make him feel better.

So that day, after you’d sought his permission, he nodded and looked up at where you were standing next to him. “I appreciate you asking, Doc.”

Bucky bit back a smirk as your face flashed with surprise for a moment, then softened into a content and somewhat shy smile. “Of course,” you mumbled, then proceeded with disconnecting his metal arm and removing the anchor plates from his skin.

“This shouldn’t hurt,” you said as you pressed the device to the top of his shoulder. “So if it does - sing out. Something’s wrong. This may take a while,” you warned with an apologetic smile. “Let me know if at any point you stop feeling it.”

He nodded and relaxed as you placed a hand on his shoulder to identify the places you wanted to start.

A few months ago, the idea of being so comfortable with someone touching the mangled skin on his former arm seemed impossible. But you never grimaced, you never cringed or tried to make some funny joke about it or reassure him that there were so many other people like him (there weren’t). You just took it in stride. Yes, you were okay.

The device sent signals through his skin and touched his nerves in a way that felt as if it were blooming underneath his skin and spreading to the nerves around it. It wasn’t unpleasant, it certainly didn’t hurt, if anything it just made his arm feel a little tingly and fuzzy.

“I’m not going to Tsinia,” Bucky said, casting a glance up at you. “I did some reading after we talked,” he pulled the corners of his mouth downwards and shook his head with his tense frown. “I can’t be complicit.”

You were silent as you thought, shifting the device further down his shoulder area. “Wouldn’t that be violating direct orders, Sergeant?”

“I’m not active duty.”

“Someone should tell them that,” you said a little quickly, then seemed to bite your tongue. Bucky grinned and that seemed to ease you. Then, as you pressed the device against the skin just above his ribs he tensed and grimaced, not quite believing the super-soldier serum didn’t zap away all his little weaknesses.

“Is this hurting?” You asked with concern laced in your voice.

“No,” Bucky shook his head, not looking you in the eye.

“You have to tell me if it-“

”It tickles, alright?” He chuckled, a little embarrassed. Bucky bit his lip through a sheepish smile and ran his other hand through his hair as he tried to control the smile which the sensation was trying to tug into his cheeks.

“Sorry,” you smiled. You didn’t really look too sorry. You moved the device closer to the back of his arm and Bucky flinched quite hard, a small laugh escaping his lips before he pursed them shut. “I swear I’m not doing this on purpose. It’s good to know your nerves still work.”

Bucky groaned and laughed a little as he covered his eyes with his hand. “Any chance you could exclude this from your notes? I know Tony reads my files for the arm upgrades and I don’t need him coming up with any cute nicknames.”

He looked at you and you were still smiling, amused, and you nodded. “Of course, Sergeant.”

“Bucky,” he offered. You smiled politely and nodded again, then jumped back when he flinched a bit harder. “Ohokay, I think my nerves are fine,” he winced again, rubbing away the ticklish sensation.

“That they are,” you grinned and wrote some things down. “I’m happy with how your shoulder is responding,” you told him as you placed your notes down and reconnected the anchor plates. “My tests are done, so I think after next week we can move to quarterly check-ups to make sure your shoulder is holding up,” you smiled positively and reattached his arm, stepping aside to let him truly engage it with a full swinging rotation. “I’m guessing Dr Banner will be able to do those from the Compound. Save you a trip here,” you continued, picking up your notes again. “So I’ll see you next Thursday and then you’ll be rid of me, Bucky.”

When he left that day, he found himself disappointed at the sudden change. His therapist might say his brain needed routine to latch onto, so since you were a regular part of his week maybe his mind was just trying to cope with the upcoming change. But it seemed unfair that as soon as he opened up to first-name-basis that he probably wouldn’t see you again, and he found himself unwilling to probably not see you again. So, the next week as you bid him goodbye and thanked him for his patience, he asked you to dinner. You seemed surprised, but not unpleasantly so.

You’d told him you’d love to.

Five months later he was sitting in your apartment trying to dispel the foolish notion that it was a good idea for him to teach you how to fight.

As he got to know you better he found out that your bedside manner was a dam holding back a flood of tenacity and determination. You were strong and confident, but so unbelievably kind. You had a beautiful way of living out your caring nature that didn’t make him feel smothered or incapable or broken; you were reliably easy-going. And, like him, you were also stubborn.

“Fine,” Bucky sighed, tapping your waist where his hand had been holding you close. “Get up.”

“What, now?” You laughed, moving off the couch as he did. Bucky leaned down and pulled the coffee table out of the way and moved a few chairs aside to give you a wide open space on the large rug in the middle of your apartment.

“You’re in exercise clothes sitting on the couch,” he teased with a gesture to your activewear. “You’re clearly ready for this,” he smiled, then smirked as you gave him a look. “I‘ll show you how to escape a few simple grabs. Deal?”

“Deal,” you grinned and stood with him in the middle of the room.

“Alright, so you’re walking down the street and someone grabs your shoulders from behind. Try me,” Bucky turned, somewhat hesitantly.

You two hadn’t been together an exceptionally long time, but long enough that Bucky wasn’t still afraid of accidentally hurting you. Besides, if anyone knew how in-control of his arm and reflexes he was - it was you. You’d never been afraid of the metal.

So as he explained and manoeuvred your bodies to show you how to escape certain holds, he watched intently at the way you followed his instructions. Your movements, as always, were precise and methodical. They weren’t exactly swift, but they never missed their mark and never missed the gap they needed to exploit.

You escaped from one arm twisted behind your back and Bucky was confident you’d be able to do it should the need arise. His jaw clenched when a rage burned in his chest at the thought of the need arising, but he swallowed it and continued. The next move was to imitate if someone grabbed you from behind to drag you somewhere, perhaps a dark alley, to mug you. He didn’t use a knife in his demonstration, but mentioned in passing that there’d probably be one in an attacker’s hand. After that comment, he longed for this moment of falsified fear to be over, so he let himself flirt.

With one arm loosely around your neck and one around your waist he pressed his lips near your ear, knowing you could feel his smirk. “How would you get out of this one? You know, if you even want to.”

“Pfft,” you scoffed and tugged on his metal arm with your hands. It, of course, didn’t even budge. He let you squirm and struggle for several moments as you made noises of frustration. “Am I allowed to fight dirty?”

“Of course.”

“Well, if it was you I’d just do this,” you giggled and he felt you twist and latch all ten of your fingers latch onto his upper ribs below the fused metal, digging into his skin and wriggling around. He spluttered and flinched from the ticklish touch as you laughed cheekily at his reaction. He quickly moved his arm from around your neck to grab at your hands, holding both wrists in a firm grasp.

“That seemed to work,” you teased, pulling on your wrists and turning your head to shoot a grin up to him.

“But now you’re in a worse position,” Bucky lowered his voice dangerously and let a smirk tug at his lips. You raised an eyebrow.

“I no longer have an arm around my neck,” you countered. “That seems better to me.”

“Sure,” Bucky turned the corners of his mouth down and tilted his head, as if he were considering your point. “But now….” he started walking your trapped body over to the couch and watched as you kept struggling against him. “Now you’ve given me ideas to add a little adrenaline and desperation to your self-defence. You know, mimic the real thing,” he taunted. You seemed to understand where this was going.

“Wahait, Bucky- AH!” You yelped as he twisted and sat on the couch with you between his legs. He hooked his calves around your shins and used his grip on your wrists to pull you back against his chest. He heard your breathing and heart rate pick up as you started giggling nervously. He smirked and blew some air at your ear, making you squeak and flinch your head away. “Bucky!” You whined, then giggled harder as he rested his right hand at your side where it was still wrapped around your waist. “N-no, wahait, wait I’m sorry, I’ll lihisten,” you laughed hard for someone who wasn’t even being tickled yet.

“You brought this on yourself,” he chuckled and squeezed at your side, pulling a stream of bubbling laughter from your lips.

“B-Bucky!” You gasped. “Wahait I’m t-too, it’s- WAHAIT!” You laughed harder as his squeezing travelled up and down your side, looking for the places you were most sensitive. Bucky grinned at how you laughed and squirmed in his arms, still leaning into his body as he tickled you senseless.

“I had no idea you were ticklish,” he chuckled, giving an experimental pinch at your hipbone. You jolted and let out a loud bark of a laugh, which made Bucky laugh from surprise. “Very ticklish,” he corrected, pinching at your hipbone several more times as you let out hearty belly-laughter.

“B-BUHUCKY!” You squeaked. “I-hi cahan’t fihight this-s-s,” you gasped as his fingers slipped beneath your dishevelled shirt and skittered lightly along the bare skin of your lower belly. You erupted in another stream of desperate giggles and struggled harder against him, throwing your head back against his shoulder as he pulled a few squeals from you lips when his fingers danced around your navel.

“How ‘bout this,” Bucky smirked and stilled his hand, allowing you to catch your breath. “You’ve got ten seconds to get yourself out of this.”

“What!” You squeaked, pulling on your wrists. “Thahat’s impossible,” you whined a little, Bucky grinned at how you didn’t sound too displeased with the idea of staying trapped in his arms.

“No it’s not. Ten.”

“Bucky!”

“Nine… eight.”

“Ugh, come on… I- HEY!” You giggled when he tauntingly poked you halfway through his countdown.

“Five, here I’ll even let your arms go. Try now- three.”

“You missed four!” You cried, standing up shakily with his legs still around yours, twisting your body and legs but merely falling backwards. Bucky reached out to catch you but you managed to somewhat break your fall and let yourself down onto your backside. The way he had you trapped meant your knees were fully bent as his calves wrapped around yours, keeping you close, your shins were pressed securely against the front of the couch. You tried to push your toes against the bottom of the couch to break his hold but your time ran out.

“One… Zero,” Bucky sighed, as if it pained him, and then pounced. Feeling more like his previously cheeky self than he had in a while, he unwrapped his legs from around yours and surged forward, lightly tackling you fully down to the carpet. You gasped and laughed as he covered your body with his own and planted kisses at the place where your shoulder met your neck. It’s not as if he hadn’t kissed you there before, but he’d never done it with the intention to pull a little laughter. So he let his kisses become sloppier and let his stubble graze against your skin. You giggled and pressed against his shoulders, then took his jaw in your hands and ducked your head to catch his lips with your own.

He sighed in contentment at the familiar wonderful feeling of kissing you. God, he loved kissing you. You breathed out in bliss as you wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer. Bucky was propped up by his elbows either side of your shoulders so he shifted them down a little further to rest by your waist. Because as much as he was enjoying this, he wasn’t quite done with dishing out a little playful torture.

Slowly, he poised to attack. Then, he slotted his fingers up into the soft spaces under your arms and wiggled them into every place he could reach. You squeaked against his lips, clamped your arms down over his hands and bucked your hips before your laughter burst from you once again, partially muffled by the kiss Bucky kept teasingly pretending was the only thing happening right now.

“MMMHBM-BUHUCKY!” You yelled and threw your head back, which only gave him the perfect chance to plant those ticklish kisses up your neck and onto your ear, which, he was delighted to see, brought some high-pitched giggles into the mix. “NO FAHAIR!” You laughed harder as Bucky relented his kissing, grinning down at your rosy cheeks and at the way you struggled underneath him as he prodded his fingers deeper and faster. “Mehercy,” you weakly gasped, laughter going silent as a few tears pooled against your shut eyes. Bucky laughed and pulled his hands back, immediately moving to rest his elbows either side of your head and smooth your hair away from your face.

You breathed deeply, catching air as a few residual giggles escaped and you opened your eyes to look up at him. “That was mean-mmmhm,” he cut you off with another kiss and you giggled into his lips once again. He felt your hands poise to launch into revenge so he pulled away and gave you a warning look.

“Ihi wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he chuckled and you blushed harder, pausing your hands in place.

“You should let me get revenge,” you argued.

“You tickled me first!” Bucky laughed and kissed you firmly once more before getting to his knees and swinging a leg off you.

“I was just evening the playing field,” you teased, rolling to your side and propping yourself up with an elbow. “But look,” you gestured to yourself lying next to him. “I’m free.”

“Because I let you go,” Bucky gave you a playfully firm look and you grinned at him.

“Sure,” you winked. Bucky scoffed and reached his hand out to latch onto the muscle above your knee, squeezing harshly as you yelped and tried to pull it away.

“You just love antagonising me, don’t you?” He laughed, playfully growled and got to his knees to let his other hand slide up your leg and knead at your hip.

“WAIT, WAHAIT!” You cackled and fell back trying to roll away, push at his hands.

“No, no,” Bucky taunted. “If you can escape without me letting you go, show me.” A grin spread to his cheeks at your yelping laughter as you writhed on the floor next to him.

“Okahay,” you squeaked and jolted when his fingers flitted behind your knee. “OKAY!” You laughed hard, submitting to Bucky’s ticklish torture as you tried to curl in on yourself to protect anything you could.

“I need to hear you surrender,” Bucky called, squeezing a little harder and faster at your hip.

“I surrender!” You managed to yell out between your laughter, still weakly batting at his hands. “I-hi gihive!!” After one final loud bout of laughter Bucky stilled his hands, sliding the one at your knee up to meet the other at your hip before pulling you up closer to him. You were still curled into a bit of a ball, and you struggled against his hold.

“I’m dohone,” He laughed. “Promise.”

A few more residual giggles left your lips as you stole a peek up at him. He once again reached down and brushed the hair from your eyes, smirking as you blushed at his discovery of your sensitivity. “I’m clearly no good at this whole self-defence thing,” you mumbled.

Bucky laughed and held out his hands, which you took, and he pulled you both to your feet. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he smiled softly, then thoughtfully.

“What’s wrong?” Your eyes filled with concern at his moment of reflection. He knew he sometimes appeared to go a little blank, but he wasn’t falling in on himself today. Seeing how you looked up at him, your desire to be close, the way you’d already wrapped your arms around his waist and so comfortably settled into standing with your body pressed against his, Bucky had to fight the part of his mind that told him he didn’t deserve any of this.

“Nothings wrong,” he tried to reassure you. You nodded, but looked sceptical. “I just really love you, you know,” He laughed nervously. Your eyebrows shot up your forehead, and then Bucky realised he’d never said that out loud. Shit, maybe that was dumb. But his therapist said honesty was important in-

“And I really love you.”

A warm smile broke across your cheeks, reaching your eyes and making them sparkle with affection. Bucky looked down at his feet and nodded, knitting his eyebrows together, kind of forgetting what someone says after a mutual admittance of love.

“That’s… that’s really great,” he stammered, laughing nervously. He heard you laugh, then felt your arms unwrap from his waist and take both sides of his face in your hands.

“Now would be a good time to kiss me again,” you playfully nudged with a teasing edge. Bucky laughed once through his nose and obliged, lifting his head to place a tender kiss on your lips.

Bucky didn’t end up teaching you much self-defence that afternoon. He would have felt guiltier about it if you hadn’t seem to lose interested so quickly. He smiled as he kissed you, putting the pieces together that probably all you wanted was a playful wrestling match with your boyfriend. You knew, better than most, what he was capable of, how strong he was, how safe he could keep you.

Though, on the off chance that you truly did crave more protection, he promised himself, from now on, he’d hold just you a little bit tighter.

[supermarvel-fics]

Are you…? Omg you are?!?!? With Ler Steve

"Are you...?" Steve fluttered his fingers on the back of your neck once more, grinning after hearing your rapid stream of giggles. "Oh my god, you are!"

You instinctively shrugged your shoulders up to block your boyfriends fingers. "Ahaha! Steve! I asked you to gihive me a massage, not to tickle me!"

Steve pulled his hands away from your neck and grazed them down your spine, relishing in the way your skin created goosebumps under his touch. "Yeah, but I wasn't trying to tickle you. You're just too ticklish to handle it."

Your elbows slammed down close to your sides, though it did nothing to help since you were laying vulnerable on your stomach with the super soldier on top of you.

Steve traced his way out to the outer edges of your hips and when he heard the inevitable breath you'd sucked in to stop your laughter, he wiggled his fingers maddeningly gentle onto your bare skin.

"EEEHEHE!" You squealed and attempted to buck out from under him. "Thihis is the LAHAHAST TIHIME I ASK YOHOU FOR ANYTHIHIHING!"

Steve halted his attack to lean down and place a soft kiss on your shoulder. "Mmhmm, whatever you say, dear."

————————————————————————

this is my first time writing for steve, so I hope I did him justice! thank you anon for this cute prompt <3

if you'd like to submit a sentence prompt, look at the requirements HERE

[tickles-in-ficland]

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

Old Man

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 heart 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 you’re 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.

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Admit It

Word count: 3,550

Pairing: Steve x reader (platonic), Bucky x reader (pre-dating romantic) - no pronouns used

Warnings: Just a lot of fluff

Vacation for me means catching up on some prompts! This Prompt from an anon requests Steve and Bucky x reader, where reader is crushing on Bucky and Steve helps them to admit it to him. I think I successfully avoided any pronouns in this to keep it completely neutral! Hope you enjoy 😊

“Gonna have to run faster than that to keep up with me!”

“If you didn’t have that damn super soldier serum in your blood, I’d be smoking you right now.”

Your sneakers pounded against the pavement as you ran along the sidewalk, matching pace with the super soldier at your side. Steve was obviously not exerting his full capability. It would defeat the purpose of doing these morning jogs together if he was always a few miles ahead. That didn’t stop him from teasing you about it, though.

“Nah, I’d be faster than you with or without the serum.”

“You’re lucky it’s impossible for us to ever find out.” You slowed your pace as you approached the turn onto your street, walking the remaining distance to your house to allow your heart rate to decrease before stretching out. “It’s the only reason you mouth off about how much better than me you are at everything.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

Steve was barely winded by the time you stopped in front of your door. You knew very well these runs were probably not much of a workout for him with the super serum - he just came so he could spend time with you as his close friend. Or maybe because he liked pushing your buttons. Either way, you enjoyed his company.

You began leading a quick stretch in the front yard to cool down. Steve followed suit, copying your movements as you grabbed one ankle to stretch out your quad muscles.

“We still on for drinks tonight?” you asked.

“Of course. Still want to go to the pub down the street from the compound?”

“Yep. You know I like the familiar.” You switched legs to stretch the other quad. Trying your hardest to act casual, you asked, “So… are you dragging Bucky along again?”

A smirk pulled at your super soldier friend’s lips. “I can, if you want me to.”

“I was just curious. Doesn’t matter either way.”

“Sure.” He lowered himself to the ground to follow you into a hamstring stretch. “That’s why you’re always asking if he’s coming.”

“I like to know ahead of time if it’s just gonna be you and I or if other friends will be coming.”

“Why? So you can make sure you get all dolled up for him if he’s tagging along?”

Your face flushed with heat. “No, of course not.”

“You know… you could just tell him you like him.” Steve nudged you with his elbow, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. You gasped indignantly.

“Do not!”

“Oh come on. You have a huge crush on him! It’s so obvious, it’s painful.” He stood and held a hand out to help you off the ground, which you accepted with a begrudging look. “You guys would be cute together.”

“I’m not continuing this conversation,” you griped, waving him off dismissively. “I’m gonna go in and shower. See you tonight?”

“Sure, see you tonight.” He stepped toward his car in your driveway as you inserted your key into the lock on your front door. “But I know you’re deflecting!”

“Not listening!” you shouted back, not turning around as you stepped inside and shut your door behind them.

Steve had been your assigned mentor from the day you joined SHIELD. You had hit it off immediately, developing a strong mentor-mentee relationship that had carried over into a close friendship once your training was complete.

Tony had offered you housing in the tower, but you opted to remain living on your own. Being such close friends with Steve, you spent quite a bit of time in the tower anyway. It was nice to still maintain a bit of your own space when you felt like you needed it.

It hadn’t taken very long for you to develop a crush on Steve’s metal-armed friend. Bucky was mysterious, brooding, sarcastic. Insanely attractive. He had a great sense of humor, always making you laugh with his snarky little comments, usually at Steve’s expense. And the way he smiled at you when he said hello, or chuckled when you were the one who said something funny… damn, it sent your heart racing.

You knew that the way you were starting to feel about Bucky was more than just a simple little crush, but you were way too nervous to admit it. Steve would tell him in a heartbeat if you ever owned up to your feelings, so you wouldn’t tell him the truth either. Not that it mattered - Steve saw right through you. He’d figured it out a long time ago by the way you stared just a little too long at the sergeant.

There was a giddy excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you got ready to head to the pub that evening and meet the guys. Maybe you spent a little extra time picking out your outfit. Steve didn’t need to know that. With a last once-over in the mirror, you grabbed your keys and headed out.

Steve had already arrived by the time you got to the pub. He’d nabbed a seat at the bar, reserving one for you. On his other side sat Bucky, who turned and waved to you with that handsome smile of his that made you swoon internally.

“You made it!” Steve declared, standing up under the ruse of giving you a hug in greeting. “Here - we saved you a spot.” He gestured toward the seat he was in before, moving to take the empty seat next to it.

“O-oh, I’m not stealing your seat, am I?” you stammered anxiously, realizing he intended to seat you between the two men.

“‘Course not!” Steve assured, taking a seat before you could protest. The sly grin on his face was infuriating.

You slid into the open seat, nodding and smiling politely at Bucky beside you. “Hey! Long time no see.”

“We saw each other Wednesday,” he countered with a grin.

“W-well… that’s a long time compared to when I last saw this one,” you retorted, jerking your thumb toward Steve.

"Hey, you don't have to live with the guy," Bucky quipped.

"I'm right here you know," Steve interjected. You rolled your eyes.

"Desperate for attention, this guy..."

Steve shoved your shoulder playfully, nearly pushing you into Bucky in the process. You were fairly certain it was on purpose.

The three of you ordered drinks and put in for a shared appetizer as you chatted. Neither Steve nor Bucky could feel the effects of standard alcohol with the super soldier serum, so you usually kept it to one drink yourself. Who knew what you'd say if you got drunk around those two? You had no desire to find out.

"So how goes life at Avengers tower?" you asked as you scooped a nacho off the top of the plate in front of you.

"Tony hired a new secretary for the lobby," Bucky explained, wiggling his eyebrows as he glanced over you at Steve. He rolled his eyes in response

"I told you, she's not my type."

"Oh, come on! She gives you the eyes every time you walk by!" Bucky argued.

"She's in her 70's!"

"Great! A younger woman," you ribbed, smirking at Bucky as he laughed.

"Ha, ha. You shouldn't be laughing, Buck - you're older than I am."

"Yeah, but I'm way more good looking," he retorted teasingly, running his fingers through his own hair for emphasis.

"No you're not!" Steve turned to you, a shadow of a smirk on his face. "Let's ask a third party. Which of us is better looking?"

You felt heat prickle in your cheeks. "Oh, hell no. I'm not answering that question. That's a trap."

"Oh come on, you know you want to tell Steve the truth," Bucky teased, draping his arm around your shoulders. You had to stifle a nervous giggle, tilting your chin down to hide the giddy grin that spread across your face.

"Nope. You guys will have to find someone else to settle this for you."

Bucky scoffed, removing his arm from your shoulders. "Pshh, you're no fun." You felt suddenly colder without his touch.

"So... find someone that's your type yet?" Steve asked you pointedly.

"N-nope. Just living the single life," you responded casually, turning your head fully toward Steve and shooting him a dirty look.

"There's not one person in your life you'd be interested in going out with?" Steve pressured, ignoring your scowling. "I don't believe that for a second."

"Excuse me, you're my mentor, not my wingman Steve," you grumbled, popping another nacho in your mouth to have an excuse not to speak any longer. He shook his head with a smirk, his knowing gaze fixed on yours for just another moment. You took the opportunity to change the subject after you'd swallowed your bite of food. "So, anyway - how is Tony?"

You could tell Steve didn't want to drop it so easily, but Bucky had already started to answer your question, and the opportunity was lost. Gradually, you began to relax again as the conversation strayed further from your crush.

As the three of you finished paying the tab, you stood from your bar stool and prepared to say your goodbyes. Steve, however, had a mischievous look in his eyes that said he hadn't quite given up on forcing your hand this evening. Before you could bid them good evening, he spoke up.

"Hey - we finished up pretty early, why don't you come hang with us for a film or something?" he suggested. "It'd be fun - just you, me and Buck. What do you say?"

"Oh, I-"

"Yeah, that sounds great, actually! It's been a while since you came over just to chill," Bucky interrupted before you could politely decline. "Cap's always got you working when you stop by."

How could you say no?

"Well... I guess I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow... I could hang out for a bit," you obliged, flashing Steve a glare behind Bucky's back as you headed out to the parking lot. He merely responded with an impish grin. He knew he'd successfully cornered you.

"Great! Meet you there, then?"

"Yup, see you there," you said through gritted teeth, faking a smile. As you ducked into your car and shut the door, you muttered under your breath to yourself. "Damn you, Rogers..."

And so, you found yourself begrudgingly seated on the sofa between the two super soldiers in the lounge of the tower. Not that you minded being this close to Bucky, of course. But that didn't change the fact that you were still bitter with Steve for trying to coax the truth out of you.

"Hey, Buck - you mind making a bowl of popcorn while I get this thing set up?" Steve asked, fiddling with the remote. "Our friend here could help you if you want."

"Oh, no, I'm pretty sure you need my help more than he does," you teased, snatching the remote out of his hand. No way was he tricking you into being alone with Bucky.

"You're probably right," Bucky concurred, chuckling as Steve scowled at him. "I'll be right back."

Bucky disappeared down the hallway as you worked on setting up the movie. The moment you could no longer hear his footsteps, you turned to Steve and scowled.

"I know what you're playing at."

"Who, me?" he asked innocently, placing a hand over his heart.

"Yes, you. Stop trying to make this happen," you hissed, pointing to yourself and the empty seat where Bucky had been previously.

"Are you saying you don't want it to happen?"

"I... well... you know exactly what I'm saying, Steve." Heat prickled in your cheeks as his smirk broadened.

"Sounds to me like you're saying you like him, but you don't want to make a move," he hummed, poking you in the side. You flinched away, swatting at his hand.

"Don't you dare tickle me," you growled, albeit without the bite in your voice you'd been going for.

"Why not? Worried Bucky might find out you're ticklish?" he teased, pinching your side more intentionally this time. An embarrassing high-pitched squeak burst from your throat. Turning your body toward Steve, you held your hands out protectively in front of you and tried desperately to fight back the involuntary smile creeping its way onto your face.

"You always do this when you want something from me!" you whined, smacking his hand away as he made a move to poke your stomach. "It really isn't fair, you know."

"Then maybe you should just admit it. Tell him you like him."

"No way- STEVE! Noho, I'm not going to tell him!" He was throwing rapid pokes at your torso at random now to dodge your swatting hands. "Yohou can't ma-HAKE mehe!"

"Is that a challenge?"

Steve turned to face you more fully, and you shifted your legs instinctively to leap off the couch. Before you could make your move, Steve had tackled you sideways onto the seat cushions and begun digging his fingers into your side and belly. Squeaky laughter burst out of you as you curled your knees up to your chest in a feeble attempt to block his hands.

"STEHEVE you ahass!!" you scolded, pressing your arms down hard against your ribs as he tried spidering his way up your side.

"That's awfully foul language you're using," he chastised teasingly. "It's not making me want to go any easier on you."

"Noho, I'm sohorry, I'm SOHORRY!!" Your laughter increased in volume as he managed to slip past your defenses and dig into your lower ribs.

“What are you two up to?”

You blushed furiously at the sound of Bucky’s voice in the doorway, unable to sit up to look at him given Steve was unrelenting. His legs came into your field of vision as he rounded the sofa to place the popcorn on the coffee table, then his face was in front of yours as he knelt down on the floor next to where you’d toppled over sideways.

“I’m just trying to get our little friend here to admit something very important,” Steve urged. “Maybe you can help, Buck!”

“NO! Noho helping!” you shouted defiantly. But you knew it wouldn’t matter what you said - Bucky’s mouth was already curled up into a mischievous smirk.

“Sure, I’ll help!”

“Perfect.” Steve suddenly relented in his attack so he could tug on your arm and sit you upright. Sensing his plan, you held your other arm out of his reach as best you could, protesting through giggles of anticipation. A quick jab to the ribs on that side sent your arm flying down instinctively to protect yourself, long enough for Steve to capture your wrist and pull it behind your back to join your other arm.

“STEHEVE! I HAHATE YOU!” you cried, squirming to pull your arms from his grasp.

“Oh, woah, now. That’s not very nice,” Bucky teased, skittering his fingers up the soles of your feet so you’d move your legs out of his way. You yelped and bent your knees to pull your feet in close and away from Bucky’s reach, and he immediately sank down into the seat you’d just vacated. “Ticklish feet, huh?”

“Bucky Barnes, I swear to gohod- NOHO!” You kicked at him as his metal hand clamped down around your ankle, tugging your leg out straight so he could set your foot in his lap. Pinning it in place, he began scratching harshly up the length of your sole, laughing as your struggle became violent.

“What is it you’re trying to find out, Steve?” he asked casually, conversing as though he weren’t tickling you to pieces.

“There’s a guy.”

“A what??” Bucky paused his attack, mouth agape as he stared at you in surprise. Heat seeped into your cheeks as you turned your head to look away from the metal-armed soldier.

“He’s lying,” you muttered.

“Am not!”

“Oh, no way is he lying - your face is telling me everything,” Bucky concurred with a sly grin. “Who’s the guy, huh?”

This couldn’t get any more flustering.

“No one!! There isn’t a guy!” you pleaded, avoiding his gaze.

“Hey Buck - try behind the knee,” Steve suggested.

“What- BUHUCK NOHO!” You tugged desperately at your trapped ankle as Bucky slipped his fingers beneath your outstretched knee, scribbling along the taut skin. “PLEHEHEASE! Thehere’s NO ONE!”

“Steve, this isn’t working.”

“Takes a bit. Gotta wear ‘em down, you know?”

“ROGERS!! Yohou are SOHO dead whehen I’m free-heed…”

Bucky glanced up at Steve, clicking his tongue at your cheek. “Threats now, Steve?”

“Mm, can’t let that slide.”

Bucky released your ankle, shifting to kneel on the couch beside you to gain leverage so he could knead all ten fingers into your sides. You threw your head back with the force of your laughter, twisting helplessly away from his fingers.

“You gonna admit it yet?” Steve hummed.

“Yeah, who is this guy? Tell us,” Bucky pressured.

“I WOHON’T!!”

“You won’t even tell your closest friends?” Steve asked indignantly. You shook your head wildly, curling your knees up to your chest as Bucky shifted to target the soft skin of your belly. “Are you gonna make me tell him your weak spot?”

“WHAT? NOHO!” you whined, tilting your head back to plead to Steve with your eyes. Bucky ceased his attack on your belly, now intrigued by Steve’s suggestion.

“Where is it?”

“NOWHERE!”

“Try the ribs, you’ll know when you find it,” Steve explained, ignoring your outburst. You let out a giggly groan, which quickly exploded into wild laughter the moment Bucky’s fingers began kneading into the spaces between your lower ribs.

“Wohow! Is this it??”

“Nah, you’ll know. Try a little higher.”

“STEHEHEVE I SWEHEAR I WILL…”

Your sentence was cut short by your own screech when Bucky found what he’d been searching for - the triggering rib just a couple ribs up from the dead center of your ribcage. The sound caused him to pause so he could laugh in surprise.

“Please tell me this is it, for your sake,” he chuckled.

“Oh yeah. That’s it,” Steve confirmed, earning a sharp glare from you. “You ever want information? That’s where you’ll get it.”

“Ughhhh Steve you’re embarrassing me,” you groaned, hanging your head to hide your blush. Bucky ducked to capture your gaze, contracting his fingertips threateningly into your ribcage just once.

“Last chance. Who’s the guy?” he demanded with a devilish grin.

Even if you wanted to tell him, you weren’t about to do it now. Deep down, you didn’t want this little game to end. This was probably the most Bucky had ever showed you any physical affection, and while you knew it was going to be bad, you were willing to make the sacrifice if only to let this go on a moment longer.

So, you turned your head away to break your gaze from his, spitting the words that were the nail in your coffin:

“Do your worst.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice.

His fingers leapt right into action, sending you into a bout of desperate, shrieky, breathy laughter. Even Steve seemed to struggle with maintaining his grip on your wrists as you writhed and squirmed under Bucky’s fingertips. You were quickly dissolving to silent laughter as you became breathless, and so you used the last bit of air you had to offer your surrender.

Bucky stopped, gazing at you expectantly. Your chest rose and fell sharply with each gulp of air, heart thrumming both from exertion and from the notion that you were going to have to tell the truth. But you couldn’t say it, and you wouldn’t say it. So you did the only thing you could think of.

“Steve… you tell him.” You squeezed your eyes shut, face already burning up as Steve took a breath to speak.

“The guy? Yeah, it’s you.”

“Me?”

You cracked one eye open to catch a glimpse of Bucky’s face. He had a huge, teasing grin that made you whimper and shut your eye again, turning your head away.

“Oh… look at me, you dork!” he urged, scribbling his fingers gently into your belly to make you giggle and smile. You opened your eyes and gazed at him hesitantly, preparing for the teasing. “It’s a damn good thing, because I was ready to go hunt this guy down and tell him off.”

“What?? Why?” you laughed incredulously.

“‘Cause I’ve got a crush on you too,” he responded, a slight tinge of red dusting his cheeks.

“Oh.” You couldn’t withhold the giddy grin that forced itself across your face.

Steve finally released your arms and scooped up the remote to start the movie, satisfied that he’d finally coaxed the truth out of you. You turned to face the screen, squeaking in surprise when Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you into his side. After the initial shock was over, you melted into his embrace, leaning your head against his strong shoulder. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Steve giving you a snarky look that said ‘I told you so.’ You’d yell at him for that later.

For now, you were going to enjoy the movie, wrapped up in Bucky’s arms.

(Tagging @hayden429 by request)

[fluffy-lee-deactivated20240927]

Tea and Raspberries

Surprise!

This is a tickle fic

Platonic Tom Holland x reader

A/n: I'm on a little break so I decided to spit this one out since I brought up the topic...

Short read, so no summary needed

"What do you think you're doing?" Tom said, in a sweet, teasing voice.

You were currently on set, having a break. You were about to use the last tea bag, and of course, he was the one who caught you.

"Nothiiing!" You said bashfully.

"Uh-huh. Using the last tea are we?" Tom said, crossing his arms.

"Maaaaybe." You said, nervously backing up. You knew what was coming. You and Tom had a playful friendship, and he adored making you laugh.

Tom suddenly darted at you and you dodged him, and ran only a few feet before he caught you and threw you over his shoulder.

"It's over for you, Y/n!" Tom said, carrying you over to the couch, occasionally squeezing the back of your thigh, making you squeak.

"Oohhohoho nohohohoo!" You said through nervous laughter.

Tom dropped you on the couch and hovered over you. You instantly got butterflies and instinctively covered your tummy, waiting for your inevitable fate.

"I bet I can make you giggle!" Tom sang.

Bright red blush spread across your cheeks.

"Ihihihi knohohow you cahahan!"

"Oh do you now? Remember... THIS?!"

And with that, he began darting his fingers all around your tummy and sides. You burst into hysterics.

"Tom! Tohohohom! I cahahan’t!"

"You can't? You can't what?" He teased some more.

His fingers then wiggled up to your ribs and yoy squealed and continued to laugh and laugh and slowly slip into ticklish madness. Tom was quite amused.

"YOU CAN HAVE THE TEA! I DOHOHN’T WAHAHANT IHIHIT!" You cried through your laughter, desperate for just one second of relief from the tickling (even though you were loving this).

"Too late!" Tom quipped, slipping his fingers under your arms.

That was enough for your laughter to go silent and you gave up the fight then and there. Tom noticed that you were dying so he decided to take it easy on you now, but he wasn't done with you yet. He pulled his hands out from under your arms, and caught your wrists. He gave you a moment to catch your breath. He chuckled at you and you blushed more and tried to hide your face.

"Don't try to hide from me! I got you!" He teased.

Then, he leaned down to your belly and nuzzled your shirt up just a bit to attack your sensitive tummy with his deadly raspberries. Those butterflies found their way back to your stomach as you belly-laughed. The shaking sensation you felt with each raspberry as he nuzzled his face into your tummy, as well as the buzz from his lips tickled so much. You thought it would never end but at the same time you didn't want to.

When your laughter turned hoarse and hiccupy, Tom knew to quit, and he did.

"I have to tell you something..." Tom started, as he pulled you up from where you were laying on the couch.

"What?" You asked, a shy smile still on your face.

"Harry was bringing us tea anyway. I just wanted an excuse to tickle you." Tom smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

[marvelgiggles]

What’s My Prize? (Tom Holland x Reader)

You were super comfy in your nice warm pillows and blankets in Tom’s guest bedroom. You normally stayed at Tom’s place when he was gone to take care of Tessa and do other things around the apartment because Tom’s schedule is normally super unpredictable, and you didn’t know when he was coming back from his latest project. Little did you know that he was planning to surprise you.

Tom quietly opened the door and knocked on the door to your room. “Y/N?” He whispered so he wouldn’t scare you awake. He thought you looked so peaceful and adorable in all your blankets and pillows. He would literally watch you all day, but he had a lot of fun things planned for the two of you today. He knew you were such a heavy sleeper, but he was optimistic that you would wake up when you heard his voice. He gently went to shake your shoulder to hopefully wake you up. “Y/N, wake up darling.” You just grunted and snuggled further into your pillow. Tom tried shaking you awake multiple times and he was starting to get impatient. Tom slipped his hand under your stomach to flip you on your back, but you giggled and moved away from his hand.

“Tom? What are you doing here?” You questioned with a groggy morning voice.

“I thought I’d surprise you with a full day of plans just the two of us, so I was trying to wake you up so we could go to breakfast together.” He told you. “But I think I found something else to do.” He said with a smirk on his face.

“What are you talking about?”

He brushed his fingers lightly against your stomach and your bit back a giggle. You were freaking out mentally because if Tom found out you were ticklish you would never be safe. “No, Tom! Please, let’s just go to breakfast.” You said starting to get out of bed and get ready for the day.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” He plopped down on the bed bring you with him. He wrapped one of his legs around yours and held your arms tight against your chest, you couldn’t move an inch. You felt his fingers drift to your stomach and slowly start to wiggle his fingers. You tried your best to keep still hoping that he would give up, but he pressed a little harder and you couldn’t help but squirm. “Well this is good to know!” He said as he moved his hands to your hipbones.

“TOHOHOHOM!” You squealed as you tried a little harder to get out of his arms, but you were weakened by the tickling and Tom had to get in really good shape for the project he’s working on.

“Yes love?” You could hear the smile in his voice knowing that he discovered your biggest weakness.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAP!” You screamed as he shot his hand to your sides, and you managed to get loose of his hold and bolted up to run out of the room. However, Tom caught up to you pretty quickly. He had you on your back on the couch the smile and look in his eyes made you gulp knowing he wasn’t done playing yet.

“Well, darling since you neglected to tell me this fun little fact. I’m just going to have to discover your other spots before we go to breakfast.” He said as he shot his hands into your underarms and your laugh became super high pitched and giggles poured out of your mouth. “Gosh, you are just the cutest little thing.” He laughed as he watched you struggle to get away from his hands to get a good grasp on his arms to push him away, and the blush that was forming in your face because of the teasing.

“NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE!” You said as you tried to compose your giggles so you could get the words out, but it was harder that you thought.

“Why does the teasing make it worse? But you must be having a good time because you are laughing so much.” He removed his hands from your underarms but since your eyes were full of tears you couldn’t see where his hands moved to. All of a sudden you felt fingers lightly flutter behind your knees and you jumped out of your skin. You started to giggle like a Tickle Me Elmo doll making Tom laugh. “Listen to that cute little giggle. Maybe I should call you Tickle Me Y/N.” You couldn’t stop giggling to tell him to stop.

He finally had mercy on your knees, but you suddenly felt his hands in the form of claws rest on the bottom of your ribcage. You started to squirm immediately because you were ridiculously sensitive there. “This looks like a good spot; I wonder what happens when I do this?” He started to squeeze right under your bottom rib, and you wanted to crawl out of your skin. You couldn’t stand the ticklish feeling that was spreading throughout your body and the teasing definitely didn’t help. You shrieked and tried to buck him off of you. “Y/N it looks like you are missing your bottom rib here. I guess I’m going to have to help you find it.” He started to wander up your ribcage to try and find your ‘missing’ rib. “Here it is. Oh no wait, maybe it’s here. Or maybe here.” He kept saying as his fingers danced around your ribcage, finally your laughter started to go silent, he stopped to let you catch your breath. “Well Y/N I think I know where that lost rib is.” He sang as he pressed into the bottom of your ribcage on your right side, you screamed so loud you were scared that someone across London heard it. “Look I found it, what’s my prize? Wait, it looks like my prize is right here!” He said as he bent down to blow a raspberry in your neck.

“NOHOHOHOHOHOH TOHOHOHOHOHOHOM! STAHAHAHAHAHAP!” You screamed hoping he would finally stop.

“Okay, okay. I got my prize and to listen to your cute laugh.” He held you in his arms while you kept giggling. “How about I make you breakfast in bed since you look a little warn out.” You looked up at him and tried to give him your meanest glare. He just smiled and kissed your nose.

“Just kidding darling. You are the best prize I could have ever won.” He got up to make you breakfast to start the day he had planned for the both of you.

[marvelgiggles]

Get Even

Holland Family

Here you are anon. I’ve never done a part 2 to a request so thank you so much for challenging me. It hopefully does it justice.

Up next: Anon Peter Parker Holiday Prompt. 

It’s been a couple days since your husband Tom convinced your son to help tickle attack you and you wanted to even out the score. I mean it’s only fair right?

Keep reading

[marvelgiggles]

Gimme a Kiss (Peter Parker x Reader)

@notmeblahh here you be friend! Thanks so much for the request!

“Y/N! Come and cuddle me!” You hear Peter demand from the living room. It was date night for the both of you, every Friday night you guys watched a movie at his apartment. You practically grew up at his and May’s apartment since your parents were always gone on a business trip, so you felt more at home there than your own home. 

You looked at him on the couch from the window in the kitchen that opens up to the living room.“Peter, the popcorn is almost ready.” 

“I don’t care! I want kisses and cuddles!” He whined.

“What if I don’t want to kiss you?” You say with a smirk. Peter gasps and puts a hand over his mouth dramatically and then tried his puppy dog eyes on you to make you give in. His puppy dog eyes was one of your greatest weaknesses, he looked to cute, precious, and sad to deny him of whatever he wanted. However, this time you were going to stand your ground since you were just kidding about not wanting to kiss him.

“No! Y/N please give me kisses and cuddles, I need them.” He whined at you and made the puppy dog look worse but you stood firm. “Please!” He continued to beg you. “Seriously, Y/N I think I might die!” Okay, now he was just being dramatic and you rolled your eyes. “If you don’t give me a kiss, I’m going to have to take drastic measures.”

You tilted your chin up and shook your head as you turned to get the popcorn bowl. Before you could grab the bowl you felt a pair of arms around your waist and your feet no longer touched the floor. 

“Peter, put me down!” You started to squirm in his arms trying to break free. 

“Your already squirming and I haven’t even tickled you yet.” Your eyes widened and you started to giggle nervously. Peter said your laugh was one of his favorite sounds so he tickled you often so he could hear it. It was also a bigger weakness of yours than his puppy dog look, and the fact that he was teasing you already didn’t help. Peter bent his head down so he could whisper in your ear. “I’m still going to tickle you even if you’re already giggling.” He then threw you on the couch and wasted no time as he started to tickle you stomach. Your giggles never stopped, they just got louder and you started to squirm to get away from his hands. “Awe, does this tickle?” He started laughing at your misery.

“Pehehehter! Nohoho!” You were trying to slap his hands away. Although he always seemed to find a new spot to attack.

“No? No? Well you said no to kissing me so I’m going to ignore your protests until I feel like it.” He stated as he shifted your shirt up and bent down to nibble on your ribs while squeezing the other side. You were going to loose it, you couldn’t form any clear words, or even thoughts, to get him to stop. After what seemed about 100 years he finally stopped and you tried to gain as much oxygen into your lungs as possible. You weakly tried to push him off of you but his stupid spider strength kept him in place. “Well that was cute. Were else can a cute reaction like that.” He bent down to nibble at your neck and ears, you let light and airy giggles while tossing your head from side to side.

“Ohkakakakay.” You continued to giggle.

“Okay what?” Peter smirked and then proceeded to kiss all over your face, neck and ears. This didn’t stop the giggles from coming out of your mouth.

“I’ll kihihiss yohohou.”

“Well now babe. That sounds forced, I don’t know if you actually mean it.” Peter quickly shot his hands into your underarms. You shrieked and arched your back while trying to pry his hands out of your armpits. Peter just laughed at you as you were convinced you were dying inside. He finally let your breath and bent down just centimeters your mouth. “Here’s your chance love otherwise I will cont-” he was quickly interrupted as you gave him exactly what he wanted.