Could you make more ATSV Tickling Fics of Ghostpunkflower of the 3 together please I would really love to see more of Lee! Miles and Hobie with Ler! Gwen.…please please
YESSS!! OFCOURSE OFCOUSRE OFCOURSE!! :))) I LOVE WRITING FOR LEE MILES AND HOBIE!! (I know it’s been 2 years… I’m sorry)
Lee: Hobie + Miles
Ler: Gwen
Look, I know it’s been a while since I’ve even touched these requests but I’m working on it. I swear I will get all these out one way or another. If it’s any of y’all’s concern, my memory’s been getting worse slowly so it may take longer to get these out. <3
Enjoy~
The 3 spiders cuddled up on the couch using a blanket for warmth, the moonlight barely peering in from the curtains that blocked the sunlight half of the time.
Miles was leaning on Hobies arm, due to their height difference, and Gwen was laying across Hobies lap with her right arm over her head. As Hobie was in the middle, he kinda just sat there, staring at the TV. Both of the spiders body heat pressing up against him not to mention the fluffy blanket draped over his bottom half with Gwen always being super cold.
Now Hobie wasn’t one to start things about him, it was the least of his problems right now. He had 2/3 of his favorite people cuddling up to him with a good movie playing, the room was a good temperature to everybody who wasn’t being smothered, and….. God that’s all he could think about. It was too warm! He focused real hard to try and think cold thoughts, ending up just zoning out.
“You alright Hobie?” A sleepy voice asked in his ear slightly causing him to tense up and jump a bit.
“Y-eah mate, don’t wor’y bout me” The taller one said, shifting positions slightly. Which didn’t help, in fact the friction of the blanket probably made it worse!
“Not ‘that it’s any of your concern, it’s just a bit hot. That’s all!” Hobie said, then feeling shuffling around his thighs.
“I’m freezing! What do you mean you’re hot?!” Gwen exclaimed, grabbing the blanket closer to her. Her elbow slightly digging into his thigh, but he tried his best to ignore that for now.
“You’re always ‘freezing’! We could be in Pavs universe right now and you’d still be cold.” Which was right, even though Pavs climate was relatively warmer than most, due to the latitude, there had been some times where Gwen had complained of the cold breeze in his verse.
Gwen fixed her posistion again, causing a large Hobie hand to come shooting down to her elbow, which was now digging into his knee.
“E-enouf!” Hobie yelped, the volume in his voice slightly raising as he tried to prevent the sensation from continuing.
Gwen dodged the hand, staring up at the Brit as she grinned. “Forgot somebody here’s a little…”
“Don’t you say it!” Hobie scolded, as if he had a say in anything Gwen did. Miles watched from the side, admiring the slight tint that praised Hobies cheeks.
“Ticklissshh??” Gwen dragged out, using her elbow to dig circles into the poor punks thighs.
“GWEHEN-!!” Hobie jumped as he fell into immediate cackles.
“Yea? What’s the problem?” Gwen acted oblivious, continuing her attack upon the poor boys thighs that kicked out from beneath her.
Switching her technique, she began to squeeze the spot right above where Hobies knee and thighs meet. Earning a loud wheeze, Hobie doubled over trying to pry Gwen’s hands from his legs.
“AhA! FuhahUCK OHOFFF!!” He cried as he succeeded in pulling her hands away, catching his breath.
“You never let me have fun!” Gwen pouted as she sat back up next to Hobies recovery state.
“If you wan’ fun, get da spot bet’ween Miles ribs an’ pits.” Hobie smirked at Miles who gave a shocked expression his way.
“What!? No! Are you serious?!?” Miles gasps out a betrayed beg as he backed away from a very hungry Gwen.
“Milessss… cmon now, don’t be like that!” Gwen slowly approached as she climbed over Hobie.
“No! No! Don’t give me that!” Miles reached the end of the sofa as he put his arms up defensively.
In one swift motion, Gwen dove straight for Miles. A startled yelp was heard from the boy as he tried to grab at Gwen’s hands. Unfortunately for him, Gwen had already wormed her fingers up his ribs into that exact spot Hobie described.
Miles shot his elbows down, pining them to his body. Gwen hit her lip as the boy screeched before falling into squeaky laughter. Hobie grinned, seeing as the situation he was just in upon somebody else.
“HOHOBIE YOHOU S-SUHAHACK!!” He squealed, rocking from side to side.
“Aye, I di-n’t say nofing that wasn’t true!” The taller responded, another screech from the attackee filled the room.
“OKAHAY!! OKAHAAY!!” Miles began to start flashing in an out of visibility, a sigh that they both knew ment that he was at his limit.
Gwen slowed before coming to a complete stop. Admiring the smile the boy wore.
“You’ll be fine,” Gwen said as she removed her hands from his body. She laid back onto the couch, resting her head on the punks shoulder who had slithered down the couch.
As Miles made his recovery, he stretched himself across the both of them. Laying his head in Hobies lap, and the rest of his body over Gwen’s.
They spent the rest of their night watching whatever rest of the movie they had on before, soon falling asleep relatively quickly. They tangled themselves in each others limbs as they drifted off, Hobie, then Miles, and then Gwen.
~~~~
Im so sorry this took so long, I will be posting more soon I promise.
Summary: Emira doesn’t listen to Viney about how to safely ride Puddles. When Viney tries to heal her, she leans that her girlfriend is a lot more sensitive than expected.
The orange lights of Miguel’s office illuminated his facial structure, highlighting his cheekbones and extenuating the contours of his face.
Tapping away at numerous screens, watching and cataloginging, almost as if it was Miguel's second nature.
His efforts were tireless, consistently observing different encounters between anomalies and spidermen alike, outsourcing locations and listing the number of captives that needed to be sent to their original dimensions.
His posture was a rigid Miguel‘s shoulders hunched as he put all focus and energy into the screens in front of him. Steady breaths were the only thing that could be heard beyond the whirrs and hums of the machines surrounding him. Totally engrossed in his work,Miguel was unable to register the gentle, yellow hue that materialized itself next to him.
The yellow contrasted with the orange light, yet miguel still was unaware of the presence next to him.
“Hey, big guy”
Miguel had to force himself to refrain from jumping at the newly noticed noise, simply bristling for a moment then smoothly looking over to the source of the noise.
Miguel's eyes landed on a pair of bright pink glasses, much too large for the face they were resting on. The yellow light shone like an angelic presence. Illuminating the dark room with soft, hopeful hues.
“Lyla, don't sneak up on me like that”
Miguel's voice sounded more disinterested than he had hoped, the cold tone seeping into his now shared environment with venomous vigor. Red eyes glowed in the darkness, the velvet colored spheres seeming almost to float, the rest of Miguel's body fading in the background.
Both of them glowed, watching each other.
Miguel opened his mouth, fangs falling on his bottom lip. He tried to conjure up some type of an apology, he hadnt meant to be so cold. The tone of his reprimand now creating an uncomfortable, awkward silence.
Before he could speak, lyla glitched closer to him, her hologram standing at what would be her regular human height. Still so much smaller compared to the monument Miguel's physique had become after all these years.
“I want to be in my body today.”
Lyla blinked a few times, and Miguel had to suppress a smile at how unneeded blinking was for her. Finding a sense of amusement in the undeniably human behavior that she had picked up.
Lyla’s physical body was finicky to say the least it often disconnected her from its metal casing. It often ran out of battery prematurely. It often felt strange for lyla to walk.
Her body was still a glorified prototype, but Lyla loved it all the same. Finally to interact with her world, with Miguel. To cling to him, to finally connect with him in a tangible sense.
“Okay”
Miguel blinked, realizing how sterilized his answer had sounded.
“Yes of course, we can do that Lyla.”
Still awkward, but at least he sounded more enthusiastic. Lyla only smiled, her thick eyelashes clumping together behind her glasses.
“It will get me away from these screens anyway.”
Miguel chuckled, glancing at lyla as he took a step from the abstract orange inner workings of his technology.
“Just like how you've been asking me to do all day”
Sass seeped out of Miguel’s words, his hips swinging to the side as he fully turned away from his tech. A smug smile appeared on his face before he smoothly jumped off his platform. Looking back at lyla, waiting for her to follow.
Lyla’s glitching form cascaded down, jumping from place to place, before settling herself next to miguel.
“Margo, please see to it that all the channels are being monitored, Lyla and I have some matters to attend to”
Miguel spoke gently, yet confidently into his watch. His long legs allowing him to stride across his office with ease.
Lyla giggled, wondering if Miguel had noticed that he had used what lyla proclaimed as the “Miguel customer service voice”
Miguel turned his head to the source of the giggling, his eyes half lidded. While his mouth remained in a neutral line, his brows had remained unfurrowed.
He was sufficiently amused.
——————-
The doors to the “special lab” as Miguel liked to call it, opened with a woosh, closing right behind Lyla and her companion.
Despite its flaws, lylas body was beautiful.
Silicone casing that mimicked human skin so perfectly, near flawless wiring, and implanted synthetic hairs. Ignoring the seams, and the mechanical core of the body, she would look fully human.
The yellow cast of lylas body glitching around the room brought a small smile to Miguel’s face, slowly striding to follow Lylas excited glitches
Finally reaching the table her body rested upon, Miguel sat beside the husk, reaching to support the back of its head with his hand. Holding it gently, like a glass sculpture.
“Go on then”
Miguel encouraged motioning for lyla to connect with her physical form.
A bit surprised at her lack of hesitation, Miguel chuckled to himself when Lyla immediately began to synchronize with the husk, her holoform slowly fading away.
After a few moments, the machine wirled to life, the hydraulics began to generate noise as Miguel helped lyla slowly sit up. Still acclimating to her physical form.
Her body hummed with life, electric fields resonating inside of her.
Deeming Lyla able to properly sit up by herself, Miguel slowly got up, padding over to retrieve her coat from the hook it was hung upon. Acquiring an exact replica of Lyla’s fur coat had not been easy, Miguel had to scout multiple tailors before finding one who was willing to embed such an intricate design onto the soft, near fuzzy material of the coat.
Yet he didn't regret any of it. Miguel would do anything for his Lyla.
Miguel slipped the coat around lylas shoulders, taking extra care to make sure the garment wouldn't fall off. Fastening the lapels firmly around her chest.
Lylas giggles caught Miguel by surprise, rearing his head to the side to look at her. Yet Lyla, absolutely loss in a haze of giddiness, puzzled him slightly.
“Lyla?”
Miguel's inquisition was nearly cut off by Lylas exclamation.
“It tickles!”
Puzzled, Miguel looked down at his hands, unbenounced to him, he had begun to rub and massage the base of lylas neck. Subconsciously trying to sooth the AI, not realizing her sensory settings had still yet to be fully developed.
“Oh- sorry Lyla I didn't mean-”
“It’s fine”
Lylas interruption utterly perturbed miguel, such an adament statement with such a large smile on her face.
Miguel knew lyla, he knew her quirks and the way lylas eyebrows would knit when she was being serious.
But the expression on lylas face was far from serious. A wide, toothy grin was plastered on her face. Her glasses slightly crooked from lylas hyper giggling.
“Don't be sorry Miguel”
Lyla leaned into Miguel's frame, nuzzling her cheek into his wide chest.
“It feels nice… I like it when you tickle me”
Miguel's face burned a deep shade of red. Something about lylas casual confession embarrassed Miguel to his very core. Perhaps it provided an unwanted looking glass into his own desires.
Miguel shook away the thought with a series of blinks, noting to himself to never indulge in such a thought again.
Rather Miguel chose to focus on Lyla, the culprit of his newfound confusion. He watched as Lyla’s grin held steadfast, looking up at Miguel expectantly. As if Lyla had hoped her confession would be rewarded with more of the sensations she enjoyed so thoroughly.
Miguel only stared back at her, feeling more than compelled to provide her with all she desired.
He waited a Moment, averting his gaze. Unsheathed claws began to pick at one another before Miguel raised his wrist towards his chin.
“Unexpected obligations have come up, please excuse my absence.”
Miguel didn't think he could register a portal fast enough. The omni colored hues of the gateway illuminating both him and his Lyla.
————————-
His bedroom was dim, just how Miguel liked it. Lyla felt nearly weightless in his arms, despite the metals she was composed of.
Despite Miguel's ornate urge to playfully throw Lyla onto the large bed the two often slept together on, He simply laid Lyla down gently. Taking great care as to not jostle her too hard.
“Miguel you big softie”
Lyla smiled, wrapping her arms around Miguel's neck as he maneuvered himself to cage her between his muscular arms.
Miguel's eyes glowed an invigorating bright red, as he stared Lyla down, analyzing every little feature of hers before leaning down, and softly locking her lips with his own.
Miguel always felt some ornate guilt every time he indulged in moments like this with Lyla. He always felt as if he was taking advantage of her in some way, despite her protests and reassurance. Some part of Miguel was afraid that Lyla had some predisposed reason to love him. That she felt required to love him due to Miguel being her creator.
“Miguel, don't be an idiot.”
Lyla’s round eyes stared back up at his, her lips forming into a disapproving pout. She always knew what he was thinking. All these years together it was a bit impossible not to understand every little change of expression or falter in words.
“I like you, that shouldn't be wrong.”
Her pout morphed into something akin to a scowl, lylas brows furrowed as her eyes narrowed. Obviously she seemed to be frustrated with Miguel's constant self retribution.
Lips locked once more as Lyla leaned up, kissing the corner of Miguel’s mouth in quick, succeeding pecks.
Miguel leaned down, resting his forehead on his companion’s, breathing steadily. He would give up his disapproving thoughts for now, Miguel never enjoyed making Lyla unhappy.
“Did you still want me too uh…”
Miguel swallowed, his words no louder than a murmur.
“You know”
He closed his eyes in an attempt to avoid Lyla’s gaze, focusing on peppering kisses along her neck. Keeping his attention at the junction between her collarbone and jugular. Miguel hoped that keeping Lyla entertained in this way would deter her from prying about his sheepishness. Unfortunately Miguel’s efforts proved futile.
“I'm the one asking to be tickled, but you’re the one getting embarrassed”
Lyla chuckled, mostly due to the barrage of kissing but the humor of her current situation failed to escape her.
“That's pretty funny”
Her chuckle transitioned into bubbly giggling as Miguel’s fervent kissing began to contain more fangs than lips, as he began to gently nibble at the vulnerable skin on lylas neck.
Lyla eagerly craned her head to the side. She hoped that if Miguel gained access to more skin, he would continue his love bites with ease.
And so he did.
Passionate kisses and nibbles trailed up Lylas neck with no hesitation. Causing electric shocks to glide through her body and settle in her chest. Her giggling never faltered. Elated chirps of laughter filled the room as Miguel began to wander his hands up and down Lyla's sides.
Miguel relished in Lyla’s sweet laughter, lifting his head up from her neck in an attempt to see her smile. Lyla’s teeth were ever so crooked, and her nose crinkled in her mirth.
His admiration for lyla had overshadowed Miguel's self doubt, egging him on. Beckoning his fingers to wiggle and squeeze just a bit faster.
“Miguehehel!!”
Lyla squeaked, her hands smoothed down Miguel's back, clutching onto the excess fabric of his shirt. Completely lost in her joyful hysterics.
Her pink,heart-shaped glasses sat crooked on her face, jostled due to the cheery wiggling that Lyla seemed to be unable to contain.
Miguel felt a response was unneeded, he simply remained listening to Lyla's laughter. Wiggling his fingers into the backs of her ribs, or at least the welded steel that mimicked where her ribs would be.
“Miggy!”
Lylas use of his nickname caused Miguel to look up from his diligent work. Slowing his motions down slightly, in fear that he was pushing Lyla too far.
“Lyla?”
His inquiry was soft, barely heard over the residual giggling that was escaping Lyla’s lips.
“It tickles” lyla took in an unneeded breath “Tickles real bad”
Lylas smile never faltered, her brown eyes glistened behind her glasses. Looking up at Miguel, she slipped her arms down from miguels back, dragging her fingertips down Miguel's shoulders, finally holding his large biceps in both hands.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Miguel frowned, concerned about a possible short circuit due to the constant stimulation being provided to Lyla’s servers.
“Do you want to stop?”
Lyla’s smug smile taunted Miguel and his patience. He knew full well that lyla was only trying to get a reaction out of him. goading Miguel into really letting loose and devouring her like she desired..
He could see as lyla began to calculate the most plausible outcome of her teasing, hoping that she would receive the response that she so desired.
How could Miguel deny her such a thing?
With a sort of playful roughness, Miguel pressed Lyla into the bed with his own weight, nuzzling into her neck to nip and gnaw at her nape. He dragged his fangs across her jugular, letting out small snarls and growls as he did so.
Miguel didn't mind playing monster for her, for his Lyla. Whatever made her happy, made him happy. Not to mention the playfulness seemed to actively draw out dread from his heart, leaving him feeling lighter, happier.
Lyla’s gleeful giggles and squeals filled his mind as he snuck his taloned fingers under the hem of her top, dragging the pinpoints ever so gently on her pseudo-skin.
“Miguel! Oh god- it's so bahahad!”
Lyla was wriggling fully, the tickling and teasing seemed to cause her software to somewhat lose control of her bodily function. This only made Miguel chuckle fondly, retracting his claws to skitter up and down Lylas' bare stomach with his blunt nails.
“I'm glad to see your body is functioning better now”
Miguel observed with an utterly neutral tone, trying to tease Lyla even further, as if he wasn’t currently drawing a barrage of sweet giggles from the AI. It was interesting to see how functional she was, a mere 2 weeks ago and this interaction was most likely impossible.
“I think the- the software!”
Lyla cut herself off with a hearty round of giggles, accompanied by a couple snorts.
“The software update helped, I think!”
The sentence was very much rushed out, Lyla obviously trying to fight against the steady stream of laughter. She tilted her head back, subtly signaling to Miguel that she wanted him to nibble there once more. If Lyla wasn't Lyla, and Miguel wasn't Miguel, the signal may have not worked. But Lyla was so very pleased when it did.
Miguel lightly blew cold air on Lylas neck, chuckling when she flinched.
“Just making sure your sensors are working”
Lyla simply scoffed, it was easy to catch Miguel in such a silly lie. She knew exactly why he did it; to mess with her. Miguel could be such a pain sometimes, especially when he was feeling playful.
Fangs suddenly unsheathed as Miguel nipped and nibbled at the exposed skin below Lylas ear. His fingers continued their expedition, wiggling up and down Lylas torso. He even lingered around her hips, giving them a few rapid squeezes before climbing up to just below her underarms.
Her body tensed up at the constant changing of sensation. Her algorithm could hardly keep track of the stimulus changes detected by her sensors. The preoccupation caused the underlying mechanisms of her psyche to cloud. Leaving her mind in a blissful state of static. Just what she wanted. No having to track Miguel’s vitals, or categorize the many anomalies that still occasionally slipped through the metaphorical cracks of space and time.
Lyla loved Miguel, loved him as much as her pulsing wires and chips could manage. But she got tired, so many hours of watching, learning, teaching. She needed a break, and she was so grateful Miguel was here to give her one.
All she could think of was his kisses, and his fangs, oh his fangs. Lyla had grown to adore the sharp canines that Miguel possessed. How they so gently poked into her skin, how they peeked out of his lips in every smile, how the fangs would often catch on his lip, causing her to giggle and point out the accident as Miguel would flush and look away as he adjusted his lips.
Right now, Miguel was nibbling into her with utmost care. Dragging his teeth across her jugular as he growled out praise and horribly embarrassing observations about Lyla arching her stomach up towards him. Miguel was so warm, such a soft and comforting force emitting from such a stark and rigid man
His hand lay its palm flat on lylas stomach, flexing and relaxing his fingers in a steady pattern. Miguel's fingertips played with the silicone, feeling the incredibly smooth surface. Gently prodding and guiding his fingers along her softness, savoring how her body ebbed and flowed along with his perfectly.
Even when lyla arched her back, her stomach and hips seemed to connect perfectly with his torso. Two puzzle pieces perfectly intertwined.
“Should I.. no.. no that’s childish.”
Miguel cut himself off before his thought could be fully realized, shaking his head and continuing to wiggle his fingers gently into lylas middle.
“Whaha- what, what is it miguel?”
Lyla fought back her giggles for a moment, forcing out coherent words. Giddiness be damned, her desire to make Miguel express himself won all her mental battles.
Miguel flushed for a moment, his ears becoming hot. He looked away, changing focus to the neatly printed on freckles that sprinkled Lyla’s arms.
“Miguel, I’m waiting”
He bit back a growl, keeping himself from scribbling his talons wildly into her stomach. His fingers stilled and he lay his head onto Lyla’s shoulder. Positioning himself so that only his cheek made contact with her form. Laying on his side next to her, he let out a sigh.
“Do not laugh at me.”
“Wouldn't dream of it, Miguel.”
Despite her situation Lyla possessed a rather smug grin, finding joy in his awkward and self conscious mannerisms. She found it quite amusing how Miguel bore embarrassment for his theoretical next move, but none for the barrage of tickling he had just put the AI through.
Miguel swallowed, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them. Zeroing in on lylas exposed midsection. He lifted his hand and dangled his fingers about a half foot above her body.
“The.. uh the itsy-bitsy spider, crawled..”
Talons were unleashed, and his hand plunged ever so softly into the soft synthetic flesh right below Lyla’s belly button. Crawling his fingers ever so slowly up her torso, acting as if his hand was a spider itself.
Miguel's brows knit together as he fought the blush currently creeping up his neck. Scrunching his nose as he pushed through the shame.
“… up the water spout. Down came the rain and…”
Miguel grimaced, crawling his talons all the way up to the middle of Lyla’s ribs. Taking a moment to tweak a couple of the bones. Which earned sweet giggles from Lyla, which were already bubbling up due to Miguel’s both goofy and reluctant singing.
“Washed the… spider out- oh god. okay okay I’m sorry Lyla I just can’t .”
Miguel let out a dramatic sigh, burying his face into Lyla’s shoulder and letting out a defeated breath of air. Lyla burst into bright laughter, partly due to Miguel dragging his claws down her stomach, but mostly because of Miguel’s now shattered ego.
Miguel chuckled as he shook his head into lylas shoulder, the cringing feeling of shame rushing over him. It was an uncomfortable chuckle, a sort of laugh whose only purpose was to attempt to alleviate some of the tension accumulating onto his psyche.
Lyla smiled and adjusted her position, bringing her knees up and planting her feet flat on the mattress. Focusing on how Miguel’s tickling turned into gentle rubbing.
She sighed happily, focusing on how her sensors registered the palm of Miguel’s hand, repeating soft, circular motions on her stomach. Settling herself into her pillow, she wiggled against Miguel’s frame. Settling herself between his arms.
Miguel followed her lead wrapping his body around hers. Strong arms crossed over her chest and he tucked lylas head under his chin. Puzzle pieces fully pressed together. Making one perfect, beautiful shape.
He leaned his head down, nuzzling his nose into Lyla’s head before inhaling gently. She smelled soft. A sort of gentle, nearly bland smell. A slight hint of mild perfume, and the fresh scent of laundry. The calming smell began to release the tension between his shoulders. As Miguel’s body began to relax a soft purr began to rumble in his throat.
His body closed comfortably around his Lyla, clutching her like a stuffed toy. She was so perfect, so soft. So comforting. Lyla was Miguel’s perfect companion; she combated his worst and complemented his best.
They were two different people intrinsically intertwined. Fated to never be fully apart from each other. Both Miguel and Lyla held the other in their hearts, never to be discarded.
Miguel opened his mouth to speak, mumbling into the top of lylas head. His words were soft, lacking the edge they usually did when Miguel held the persona of the spider society's leader.
“I love you Lyla.”
He spoke gently, yet with confidence. Miguel's words were not a confession, rather an affirmation.
“I love you too Miguel.”
Lyla intertwined her fingers with Miguel’s, feeling the rough calluses that had formed where his talons would emerge. Such rough hands always treated her so gently, with utmost kindness and care.
The pair laid there, both taking the other in. Miguel nearly began to dose off, sleepless nights finally rearing their heads to nip at his conscience.
That was until his eyes shot awake with realization.
“I left Margo alone”
His words cut off as he unlatched himself from Lyla’s body, rolling off the bed and landing on his feet in quick succession.
“Alone to monitor all the channels.”
Lyla finished Miguel’s thought for him, scooting off the bed herself before she was able to touch the tips of her toes onto the floor.
Miguel stretched out an arm to Lyla, offering a stabilizing force to help the AI steady herself as she stood.
“Please excuse my uh, long absence. My obligations seemed to draw on longer than I had expected.”
Miguel took a short breath, changing the channel of his watch and speaking once more into the device. His voice much less authoritative in tone.
“Margo please take a break at your earliest convenience”
He paused before continuing, playing with his claws.
“Sorry for leaving you for so long, I’m back in the building already, so don’t worry.”
Miguel winced at his own awkward attempts to sound friendly, and the blatant lie he had told. Yet some of the shame was relieved when Margo responded to his message with a deadpan, albeit playful response.
“Back to work Miguel?”
Miguel flicked his wrist and opened another portal, the orange hues lighting up the cool tones of his bedroom.
“Back to work Lyla.”
The pair held hands as they stepped through the portal. Always together, fitting like matching puzzle pieces.
———————————
thank you everybody for taking the time to read my fic!! I know lyla and Miguel can be a bit of a rare pair but this ship is very near and dear to my heart. I hope that you enjoyed reading! If you have any suggestions for another fan fiction please leave me a message in my ask box!!
AN: Took me long enough, but I finally finished my spiderverse fic! I had such a blast with this one, I hope y'all enjoy! Miles has some serious beef with Miguel & they just need to spend some quality time together!
After defeating The Spot, things started to settle down. The multiverse was ultimately safe, for now at least. And things were actually going pretty well for Miles Morales. After they won, Miguel officially welcomed him into the Spider Society, even giving a tense, begrudging apology. It wasn't much, but it was a start. But now, he was able to see his friends on a semi-regular basis and even picked up a few new tricks of the trade. He buckled down on his classes and managed to pull out an A in Spanish by the end of the year. After months of waiting, he received an acceptance letter in the mail. Of course, his parents threw a huge party to celebrate, bragging to their friends about how smart their son was. As much as it could embarrass him at times, he couldn't be happier that they were so proud of him.
Naturally, there were a few hiccups along the way. The biggest being when he was home alone after a patrol, standing in the kitchen eating straight out of a box of cereal, still in his suit. It was the middle of the afternoon, both of his parents working. He had his headphones on and didn't notice the front door open, and suddenly his father was standing right in front of him, mouth agape as he stared him up and down. It took a long lecture and lots of explaining and apologies on Miles's part, but they understood why he was doing this, and more importantly, why he kept it a secret. His dad even revoked his grounding after he heard the truth!
To top it all off, he was getting called on for missions more frequently, and he found himself spending more time at HQ. He felt needed and accepted among the other spiders, which is more than he could've hoped for. Honestly, Miles doesn't think he's ever been happier. Things were going great for him.
So why the hell was he being so petty to Miguel? Everything worked out fine in the end, yet it still seemed the teen harbored a strong grudge towards him.
Peter B. Parker liked to think of himself as an excellent observer. He also liked to think that he knew the kid pretty well. It seemed like every time Miguel so much as entered the room, his expression went south. He'd go quiet, shrinking in on himself, shooting glares at the man. If the man addressed him, his responses were short and full of sass, if he didn't outright ignore him.
Peter knew where the kid was coming from. Hell, Miguel's scared the crap out of him more than a few times, and the things he said to Miles was out of line. But he apologized for that! It should be water under the bridge, or so Peter thought. It hurt him because he knew Miguel was a good guy, you just had to get to know him. And it seemed that was the last thing Miles wanted to do.
Pavitr, Miles, Gwen and Hobie were sitting around a table playing go fish when Peter and Miguel walked in. Pavitr had pulled out his phone and leaned over to show Miles a video of some guy trying boba for the first time and choking. Right at the funniest part, he glanced up and caught sight of Miguel, the laugh trailing off and smile falling flat. Pavitr was too busy laughing to notice, but stopped when he realized Miles wasn't laughing along.
"Well I thought it was funny," he said quietly, tucking his phone away. Miles snapped out of it and was quick to assure him, "No, it was really funny! Show me again when we're not playing the game."
Miguel snorted as he poured himself some coffee.
Miles furrowed his brows, "What?"
"Oh nothing. Nothing at all," he said as he walked past. Miles rolled his eyes.
"Whatever."
"Can you two at least try to get along?" Peter groaned. Miles shrugged.
"Cool with me. Truce?" Miles held out his hand for him to shake. Miguel stared at him skeptically before walking back over him. His form loomed over Miles where he sat at the table and reached for his extended hand.
At the last second, Miles pulled back, running his hand through his hair. "Sike."
Miguel took a deep breath, visibly holding himself back from lunging at the kid while the others at the table snickered to themselves, Hobie looking the most amused. He turned on his heels, muttering angrily under his breath.
"Work with me here," Peter said exasperatedly, to which Miles gave a smug, satisfied grin. Peter rolled his eyes, following after Miguel.
"Gwen, got any two's?"
"Go fish." She bit her bottom lip as Miles drew a card from the deck, and spoke up. "You know, he's really not a bad guy. Wouldn't kill you to be a little nicer."
"Yeah, well maybe you should tell him that," he sassed.
"She's right y'know," Hobie said. "No one loves stickin' it to the man more than yours truly, but even I know when to give it a rest." He laid down his cards, leveling his gaze at Miles. "He's a prick, but he's damn good. Who knows, you might have more in common than you think," he teased, playfully smacking Miles in the arm before pulling him in a headlock, messing up his hair.
"Alright alright, I get it," he said, shoving him away with a shy smile.
"So you'll be nicer to him?" Gwen asked hopefully.
"I guess, sure."
Turns out, it was a half assed effort. He really did try to be nicer when he was around, but it was obvious he was still afraid of the man, clamming up as soon as he laid eyes on him. And he just happened to be busy every time he was called to go on a mission with him. He was on a mission with Peter when they had to call in backup, and he nearly ran into a billboard when he saw who came to their aid.
Miguel wasn't stupid- he knew the kid didn't like him. But hey, he didn't care about him all that much either. But it made him feel shitty, serving as a grim reminder of what he'd done to him. Peter lessened the tension between them, but Miguel could still sense the lingering fear that enveloped Miles every time he was in his presence, could hear the rapid thumping of his heart any time he drew near. And the way he watched his every move: as if he'd snap at a moment's notice, was more than annoying to say the least.
Miguel had called upon Peter for his input and Miles naturally tagged along. He wasn't exactly subtle with the way he looked him up and down as he spoke, watching with a judging eye. Peter kept cracking jokes to try to lessen the tension, frowning when neither one had so much as chuckled by the fifth attempt. He looked up from the screen and gently smacked Miles in the side.
"What's the matter kid? Don't tell me you're too cool to laugh at my dad jokes."
"Nah, it's just 'cause I'm here. I apparently sap out all his joy when I enter the room," Miguel snapped, not afraid to call it how he saw it.
"W-what? That's not true!" Miles insisted, completely shocked by the abrupt nature of his statement. Peter locked up, unsure of how this would play out.
"Yeah, then what is it? You hate me that much or somethin'?"
Miles thought about his answer before he spoke. A rare occasion, I know. "No, I just... think you're meaner than you have to be... sometimes..." he trailed off, getting quieter as he spoke. He refused to meet his gaze and subconsciously scooted closer to Peter, who watched the exchange and sighed.
"Kid, he's not mean, you're just falling for his schtick."
"Hey!" Miguel interjected but Peter shushed him.
"Miguel's got pretty thick skin, you just gotta get used to him. Once you do, you'll realize he's just a big ol' softie. Like me!"
"I am nothing like you," he deadpanned.
"That's one thing we agree on," Miles scoffed, crossing his arms.
"Are you always such a smart ass?" Miguel asked, hands on his hips.
"Easy, he's just a kid!" Peter said, turning around in the computer chair.
"No, he's a cocky high schooler. You're what, a freshman?"
"Just finished sophomore year actually," Miles corrected.
"Probably took pre-cal," Miguel scoffed.
"Nah, I took that last year," he bragged, a cocky smirk on his face, though his eyes held a look of fear that he couldn't shake. There was a tense moment of silence as they stared at one another.
Miles caught a glimpse of Pavitr walk by the doorway and instantly saw his way out of the situation.
"Pav, hey wait up!" he called and ran out of the room to catch up.
"Miles! How's it goin' dude?" Pavitr's voice rang out and their distant conversation echoed down the hall.
Peter groaned as he stood up and stretched. "Why'd you have to go and start shit?" he asked with a tired look.
"I didn't start it!"
"No, you literally started it!"
Miguel sighed. "You heard him, he thinks I'm mean."
"Then show him you're not," Peter insisted, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. Miguel shrugged him off.
"I don't know if he'd let me at this point," Miguel quipped, leaning against the desk.
Peter looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself short. Miguel furrowed his brows and straightened his posture. "What?"
"Nothing, I just had a stupid idea. You'd probably hate it, forget I said anything," Peter said, setting the bait.
Miguel let out another sigh. "What is it?"
Peter hesitated, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. He hoped Miles would forgive him...
"The kid's crazy ticklish, that's all I'm gonna say," he said, holding his hands up in the air.
"What? What's that got to do with anything?"
"Just show him you know how to cut loose. Let him see you without that stick up your ass," Peter snickered. Miguel shot him an unamused look, reaching out to squeeze his hip in retaliation.
Peter yelped and jumped away, wearing a large grin. He threw an arm around his shoulders and gave him a shake. "That's the spirit! Now go show the kid how fun tickle monster O'Hara can be!" he cheered in encouragement, drawing out
a scoff of disgust from the other man.
"Don't call me that," he demanded, earning a chuckle. He glanced at Peter from the corner of his eye and broke into a smirk. "You're real weird, you know that Parker?"
"Yeah yeah, I get that a lot. But trust me, it'll work," he reassured. Miguel was hesitant.
"How do you know?"
"Just trust me."
Miguel waited until he saw an opportunity, and it didn't take long before one presented itself. Miles was sitting in a beanbag in the corner of an otherwise empty rec room when he waltzed in. "Miles, just the spider I wanted to see," he greeted, sitting on the beanbag next to him. Miles stared at him like he had grown a second head.
"Uh, hi. Wha- what did you wanna talk about?" he stuttered, struggling to sit up straight in the beanbag.
"Peter thinks it'd be a good idea if you got to know me. And I have to agree, so I thought we could play twenty questions. Go ahead, ask anything you want." Miles pondered for a moment before thinking of a question.
"So your fangs... could you like, milk the venom like they do with snakes?" he asked, curiosity and excitement in his tone. Needless to say, the question caught the older man off guard.
"What? No! You can't even milk snakes!"
"Can too! I saw a video where they got venom from a rattlesnake like that! You put gauze or cheese cloth or something over a cup and make them bite it, and they shoot out all this venom," he explained. Miguel considered this for a moment.
"Hm, interesting. I didn't know that." He shifted in the soft chair, getting more comfortable. "I guess it's a possibility. Alright, my turn. What's your favorite food?"
They went back and forth asking questions, and Miguel noticed the way Miles relaxed as the conversation wandered.
"Did you get to do a senior prank when you were in high school?" Miles asked, leaning a bit closer in anticipation for his answer. A mischievous gleam sparkled in Miguel's eyes as a long forgotten memory resurfaced.
"Yeah actually. Oho man, it was a great one. A few of us covered the entire floor in shaving cream. I'm talking classrooms, halls, the cafeteria, bathrooms, even the gym. We broke in during the night so we'd have enough time to do the whole school." He shook his head and chuckled. "Everyone was slipping and sliding all over the place. It took us hours to clean up afterwards, but it was worth it." He couldn't deny the swell of pride he felt when he heard Miles let out a quick huff of laughter.
"That sounds like a good one! I wish I could do something like that."
"Why can't you? Just gotta wait two more years, plenty of time to come up with a good prank."
"No, it's not that. My new school doesn't allow senior pranks and stuff like that," he explained, disappointment etched on his features. "It's... pretty pretentious."
"Hm, that's a real bummer. Maybe you'll have to fix that," Miguel suggested with a playful punch to his shoulder.
"Maybe," he agreed, ideas already bouncing around his head. "Your turn."
"Man, 20 questions is a lot more than I thought," Miguel feigned cluelessness and innocence, as if he didn't have this question lined up from the start. "I got one. Are you ticklish?" he asked casually. It was comical the way Miles snapped his head up to look at him with wide eyes.
"What? No," he said quickly, defensively. He was about to ask the next question to change the subject but was cut off.
"See, now that's funny. That's not what Peter said," he drawled, flashing a smug grin. Miles felt a chill run down his spine. He knew this was fishy from the start, but had ignored his gut feeling. A rookie mistake.
"Heh, good thing you're too mature for that sort of thing, right?" he asked nervously, watching him like a hawk.
"Y'know, I'm not so sure. What do you think?" Miguel asked, a dangerously playful edge to his voice. Miles gulped.
"Was this whole thing just a set up?" he asked, his entire body tense. He was ready to bolt at a moment's notice.
Miguel shrugged. "If that's what you wanna call it, sure."
It only took a second before Miles shot up to make a break for it. Strong arms immediately wrapped around his waist and brought him back down, right into Miguel's lap. He was thrashing and already giggling, yet still managed to grab ahold of Miguel's wrists to keep him at bay.
"Must be pretty ticklish if you're already laughing," he teased, twisting his hands free. He grabbed both of Miles's wrists and raised them over his head.
"Ihihi'm not! Let mehe gohoho!" Miles protested, trying to roll onto the floor.
"Nah. Gotta say, you've made me real curious now. Well, guess I better not keep you waiting!" He wasted no more time and latched onto his side, squeezing and kneading softly. Miles was already lost to a bout of bubbly giggles as he curled in on himself.
"Why ahahare you dohohoing this toho meee?" he squealed, legs scrambling for purchase and finding none.
"To show you I can be fun," he said, as if that should be obvious. "And you really don't know me if you think I'd let this information go to waste."
"Thihihis is fuhuhun?" he asked, sounding incredulous even through his laughter. Miguel couldn't help but smirk.
"See? Glad you agree," he said smugly. Miles let out an annoyed, giggly groan.
"Not whahat Ihihi meant!"
"Really? You gotta choose your words more carefully. Someone could take your words outta context and do this," he emphasized his point by squeezing his hips, causing Miles to jolt in his lap as if he had been electrocuted. "Y'know, since you said you were having fun an' all."
Miles was sure he was going to die. Whether it would be from the tickling or embarrassment, he wasn't sure, but he was going to die.
"Ohoho my gohohod, shut up ahahasshole!"
Miguel froze, hands poised at his sides and ready to strike. "What did you just call me?" Miles breathed in a few gulps of air while he still had the chance. He shook his head, eyes wide with a mix of panic and excitement.
"Nonono I didn't mean that, it just slipped out!" he insisted, but Miguel wasn't having it.
"What did I just say about choosing your words wisely?" he asked. Miles attempted another escape instead of answering, and was caught just as easily as before. "Well if you can call me names, clearly I'm not working hard enough."
He dove for his belly, pulling back at the last second, but Miles still screamed anyways. He felt a warm flush rise to his cheeks, glaring at the man as he laughed. He glared at him and shoved his chest.
"You are being an asshole!" he whined, grabbing his wrists and pushing with all his might to keep them away from his belly.
"And you're really asking for it," Miguel deadpanned, slipping out of his grasp with ease. And just because he felt like messing with the kid a little more, he did another fake out, earning another shriek of anticipation, followed by an embarrassed pout as Miguel let out a hearty chuckle.
"What the hell man? Just get it over with if you're gonna do it!"
"A little eager, eh amigo?" he asked, drumming his fingers against his sides. Bubbly giggles filled the air as Miles folded in on himself like a lawn chair, shaking his head frantically.
"N-no!" Miles denied, twisting from side to side and trying to work his way out of Miguel's strong grasp. He kneaded his sides, immediately thwarting the halfhearted escape. A stream of loud squeals and cackles escaped Miles as he squirmed around like a worm on a hook before curling into a ball in his lap.
He snorted when Miguel reached down to squeeze his knee, kicking his legs out. This granted him free access to his belly, which he took full advantage of. He formed a claw with his hand and dug into the soft pudge around his midsection and giggly shrieks filled the air.
"Wow, you're ticklish just about everywhere," he mused, smirking when Miles whined through his laughter.
"Ihihi ahaham not!" he cried out, legs kicking against the floor. Miguel arched a brow, clearly amused at the reply.
"No? Try proving me wrong then," he teased, pinching up his ribs. Miles arched his back, boyish giggles pouring past his lips.
"Screhehehew you!" he cried through his hysterics.
"Well that's not very nice. And here I thought we were finally bonding," Miguel said in a deadpanned tone, though the sly smirk gave him away.
Without anywhere to turn, Miles yelled out for help. "PEHEHETEHEHER! HELP MEHEHE! I-I'M BEING TORTURED!" he cried out dramatically. Miguel shook his head, an evil chuckle slipping past his lips.
"You know he's not gonna help you, right? I mean, this was all his idea. Practically made me do this," he taunted.
Well that was news to Miles.
"HE WHAT?" he shrieked before falling back into a wild fit of laughter.
"Yup. He sold you out faster than you could say tickle tickle tickle!" he teased, digging his claws into his ribs and shaking them against his ribcage. Miles doubled over with a screech, laughing as he kicked his legs in the air. He reached up to hide behind his hands so he wouldn't have to look at Miguel's stupid, smug face.
Miguel shook his head and grabbed his wrists, pulling them away from his face. "Oh no, no puedes esconderte de mí," Miguel teased. Miles thrashed, growing even more flustered by the playful taunt.
"Oh cohome ohohon!" Miles whined, tugging on his arms.
"Everyone keeps talking about these "bleeding armpits" of yours. Let's see what that's all about, huh?"
"No!" he screamed out, but it was too late because Miguel was already tickling under his arms. Miles slammed his arms down to his sides, trapping his tickling hands in place. He was cackling hysterically, blushing when a few snorts managed to slip out.
"Gehehet out of thehehere!" he pleaded, nose scrunched and mouth open in a wide grin. Miguel hummed in thought, drilling his thumbs in the center of his hollows.
"Mmmm no, I don't think I will," he teased smugly. He was about to comment on how the suit markings are practically a bullseye for what seemed to be his worst spot when a sharp elbow cracked him in the face.
He reeled back, hand clutching his now sore, and apparently bleeding, mouth. Miles rolled off his lap and sprawled on the floor, panting for breath before he noticed Miguel's busted lip.
"O-oh my gosh, did I do that? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-" Miles rambled out an apology, cutting off when Miguel held up a hand to silence him.
"It's fine, it was an accident. Besides, this is nothing," he said smirking and gestured to his bloodied bottom lip. "Honestly it surprised me more than anything," he reassured, not wanting Miles to feel guilty over something so small.
"Still, I didn't mean to hit you in the face," he apologized, paused for a second and seemingly grew a bout of confidence, puffing out his chest. "B-but you were asking for it! Seriously, that's what you get for tickling Spider-Man!"
The retort made Miguel bark out a laugh, ruffling the kid's hair playfully. Miles rolled his eyes and shoved him away, but the smile never left his lips.
"Yeah yeah, it's all my fault. Now run along, go tell your friends how you managed to survive tickle monster O'Hara," he teased. Miles cringed at the nickname and let out a long, suffering groan.
"Don't call yourself that," he said, equal parts whiny and sassy. It only took a stern look from Miguel to have Miles running out of the room. Miguel chuckled to himself, pulling out his phone to take a selfie of his busted lip.
Peter had just sat down in the cafeteria about to chow down on a slice of pizza when he felt his phone buzz. He looked at the screen, noticing a new text from Miguel.
He opened the message, huffing out a laugh when he saw the picture of Miguel's busted lip with the caption, Mission Accomplished.
He tucked his phone back in his pocket, taking a large bite. He wasn't even done chewing when he heard fast paced footsteps skid to a halt behind him.
GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY IT IS FINISHED!!! MY MAGNUM OPUS!!!! So... hi everyone! I'm so sorry this fic took so long! I got caught up with life stuff and my writer's inspo kept leaving me when I needed it most ;-; But it's now done! So now I post it! Also its super fricken long sorry about that lols. ANyways, enjoy and eat up my lovlies! ^<^
There he was. Perfect timing. Perfect position. Perfect opportunity. Three spidermen stood and watched their older counterpart closely with crossed arms.
“He’s asleep.”
“He’s wide open.”
“He’ll kill us if we go through with this.”
The three teens, Miles, Pavitr, and Gwen, all took pause and thought for a moment. The one they were looking at was none other than Hobie Brown, asleep and outstretched on Miles’ parents sofa. It was an amusing sight. The teen was waaaaay too big for the couch. Hobie laid on his stomach with his arms outstretched over one arm of the couch, and his legs dangling over the other arm. And he had a small flock of spider-teens observing him with crossed arms.
The three had recently come across the fact that they had all been targeted and sentenced to tickling by the punk. They came to this realization as they were watching a movie and a tickle scene came on. They all shuddered at their recent memories from their own experiences (as well as the scene being especially rude) and they started talking. That leads us to now.
“Do we really need to get him back? I mean, I liked it when he tickled me, it was fun!” Pavitr admitted, earning a look from the other two spiders.
“That’s only because he didn’t punish you. We,” Gwen gestured to herself and Miles, “got punished. We want to get him back.”
“Yeah, just because you had a good time doesn’t mean we did. Revenge is in order,” Miles agreed. Pav smiled a bit and shook his head.
“You Americans and your ticklish bloodlust. You shouldn’t have pranked him in the first place!” he giggled as he earned more scowls from his friends. Then he stretched his arms and cracked his fingers. “But if you two are too scared to start, I know where he’s ticklish!”
Pavitr walked up confidently, constantly surprising Miles and Gwen with his boldness. Moving Hobie’s hair from his neckline, he found his nape and started gently scribbling. The reaction was immediate. Hobie hummed a laugh, then started mumbling out chuckles, shifting on the couch as Pav continued. His arms sleepily reached behind him and his hands waved around as if he was trying to catch Pav’s, but he had no such luck.
“Mmmhmhmhmhmhm… Kahaharl quihihihit…” the punk muttered through his soft giggles. Miles and Gwen looked on in awe but soon dawned evil smiles on their faces. Pavitr was about to speak until they all held their breaths. Hobie groaned in his sleep and turned over entirely, now lying on his back. He scratched at his stomach and smacked his lips, returning to his peaceful slumber. The three teens gave each other looks of confirmation.
“I’m getting his stomach.” Miles called.
“His legs are all mine.” Gwen purred.
“Well, someone has to hold his arms...” Pavitr sighed.
They all jumped onto the taller Spider-Man. Miles sat on his thighs, Gwen sat on his knees facing him, and Pavitr quickly thwipped Hobie’s wrists together and held down the web with his foot, keeping his hands free. Hobie instantly woke up with a snort, looking around all dazed and confused.
“H-Huh? Whas happnin’? ‘S goin’ on?” he asked. He pulled at his wrists and started to panic as he realized the situation he was in. He pulled more as he saw Miles sitting above him with crossed arms and a smirk.
“Mornin’ Hobs. Had a nice nap?” Brooklyn’s Spider-Man asked. Hobie looked straight up and saw Pav who waved. He looked around Miles to see Gwen who nodded her head towards him. Hobie simply sighed and deflated where he laid, ragdolling his head on the arm of the couch.
“Whas dis den? You lot tryna get me back, is that it?” he said.
“Yep,” Gwen said.
“Nailed it right on the head,” Miles agreed.
“I mean, not really but this seems like fun,” Pavitr chided. Hobie took one more assessment of his situation before shrugging.
“Fine,” he sighed. “If it keeps you busy.”
The three spider kids were slightly taken aback by his willingness, but they shook it off nonetheless.
“Pav, you wanna start first?” Miles asked. Pavitr tapped his chin as if he was thinking about it.
“Hmm… let me think…” As he started to ponder, he took his free hand and softly scribbled his fingers up and down Hobie’s bicep, getting so close to his armpit but stopping just a hair short to continue upwards.
Hobie jumped at the contact and bit his lip, fighting back snickers while saying, “Oho fuck ohoff Pav.”
“I mean, I really should go first, shouldn’t I?” India’s Spider-Man spoke as he touched his other hand down on Hobie’s bicep, now scribbling up and down both his arms while speaking. “I am the one he got first. Even though I liked it, you can’t just tickle someone and not expect to be tickled back, right? Oh but if I do, he might get me back worse! What to do, what to do! Maybe I should just stay here, teasing him, almost going to his armpits but not quite yet~”
Meanwhile, Hobie was currently suffering under the torturous teasing he was being subjected to. Miles smiled and watched as his usually concealed friend lose his mind at a few simple scratches.
“Come on, Hobs!” Pav continued, now scratching right above his armpits. “I know how ticklish you are! Why hide it? I can feel you’re gonna break~ Aaaaaaaaaany second now~ Maybe I should go lower? Maybe I should tickle your armpits? Would that make you laugh? Hm?~”
“Ffffffffffuhuhucker- Pahav- Imma k-kihihill you!” Hobie growled through his giggles. He used all the movement he could to cover his eyes with his elbows. His smile was bigger than ever and he was constantly moving and shaking his torso.
“Looks like Hobie’s quite the dancer! Wiggle wiggle Hobs~” Miles cooed. Gwen just sat back and pulled out her phone, recording this moment. I’m so sending this to Peter, she thought with an evil smirk.
“What do you guys think? Should I go for the kill?” Pav asked as he hovered his hands over his friend’s armpits. Hobie’s eyes widened and he gasped, holding his breath. He let out hesitational giggles as Pav’s fingers wriggled above their target area. Even Miles felt shivers up his spine.
“Oh hell yes you should! Why don’t I help out?~” Miles brought his own wiggly fingers to hover above Hobie’s ribs. The taller teen grunted and covered his eyes again.
“Y-You fuckheads! Teasin’s not fair! Bofa yous as dead as doornails, ‘ear me??” The Spider-Punk said in a panicked voice. Miles and Pav looked at each other and nodded. At the same time they mouthed ‘1…2…3!’
Then, they attacked! Both Miles and Pav touched down onto Hobie’s torso and began their assault. Pavitr wickedly scratched and clawed Hobie’s armpits while Miles dug his fingers between the spaces of his ribs. Hobie, meanwhile, barked out a laugh and jerked hard. He nearly sent Gwen flying! She was lucky that he was barely using his spider strength, so instead she got shoved into Miles’ back.
“Oof! Hehey, watch it Hobs! You tryna kill me here?” the Spider-Woman retorted. Hobie was too busy laughing his ass off to make up a witty response.
“BAHhahahahahahahahaha! F-Fuck sake- gyahahahahaha! Gehehehehet outta thehehehehehere! Shhhhihihihihihits! You shihihihitbags! Fffr- grrr- pfffhahahahahahaha!” Hobie was a completely new person. The only people who’ve seen this ticklish side of him were Karl and Pav, but he’s never been tickled by them at the same time. But did having Miles and Pav tickle him simultaneously make it any less fun? No. No it did not. This was the most fun he’s had in his life!
“I told you guys he’s ticklish! Oh, oh! What’s that thing you sing to Karl when you tickle him? It goes like “I’m gonna tickle tickle tickle you until you dieeeeeeee~” right? Am I right?” Pav asked, constantly stirring the pot and switching up his technique. He went from digging and vibrating to scratching and scribbling, then to poking and prodding. Miles laughed a bit.
“You seriously sing that?” he asked.
“Yes, he does. I have videos for proof,” Gwen said from her spot behind Miles (she fixed her position to where she was sitting on Hobie’s shins).
“Ooh, you should show him the video you took of Karl and Hobie on Karl’s birthday! Now that was brutal!” Pav said, harboring another bark of laughter from the punk below him as he jammed his fingers into the center of his hollows.
“J-Jehehehehehehehesus Christ! Stahahahahahahahap tahahahahalkin’!” Hobie ordered, but his words failed to carry any authority. Miles just smirked and vibrated his fingers faster and he felt deeply satisfied when the punk jerked forward.
“Guys, I don’t think I can believe what I’m hearing. Is he actually trying to order us around right now?” Miles raised an eyebrow and looked to Gwen and Pav.
“Completely unbelievable,” Pav agreed.
“Especially coming from the guy who ‘doesn’t follow orders.’ What do you have to say for yourself, Hobs?” Gwen asked. Hobie could only flop back and forth while spewing giggles and laughs from his mouth, shaking his head so much so one would think you asked him if he liked the government. The three teens just laughed with him. Then, Hobie said something unexpected.
“Breheheheheheak!” he laughed out. “Breheheheheheak break break! I cahahahahahahan’t!”
Without a second thought, Miles and Pavitr raised their hands and halted their tickling. Hobie’s body instantly relaxed, giggling and sighing as he caught his breath. Gwen was up in a flash and making a beeline for the kitchen. Pavitr rubbed Hobie’s pits to rub the ghost tickles away, being careful he wasn’t tickling the older spider. Miles patted Hobie’s side in an attempt to calm him.
“You alright, Hobie? Is it too much? Should we stop??” Brooklyn’s Spider-Man questioned, looking from Hobie to Pavitr for confirmation. Pav just smiled back at him.
“No need to panic, Spidey,” he explained, “It’s normal for someone to get worked up in a situation like this. He just needs some water and a breather, then we’re free to get back to it! Right Hobs?”
Hobie responded with a nod, now just panting. Gwen returned with a cup of water and offered it to Hobie’s lips. The punk shimmied up so he could drink more comfortably. And drink he did. He barely left a drop in the cup before laying back down. Then, he chuckled.
“You two are right fuckin’ evil, man. Downright awful, it was. Shihihit,” he chuckled.
“Well just you wait! Cause Miles is really about to knock your socks off~” Gwen cooed, pinching Hobie’s cheek like a grandma would. Hobie, feeling playful, bit at her fingers. Gwen squeaked out in surprise and shot her hand back to her side.
“Hey!” she fussed. Hobie just grinned with mischief. Gwen just rolled her eyes with a smile, shook her head, and traveled back to the kitchen with cup in hand.
“Now that wasn’t very nice, Hobie!” Miles said.
“Oh yeah? Whatcha gon’ do bout it, Miles? Hm? Gon’ punish me? Treat me like a bad boy, huh? I reckon you won’t, ya too much of a coward~” Hobie taunted, shimmying his chest at Miles. Brooklyn’s Spider-Man was immediately taken back, sending a confused look at Pavitr. Pav simply laughed.
“This trick again, Hobie?” Pav asked as he looked down at his friend, giggling when Hobie waggled his eyebrows at him. “This is a method he tries to mess with anyone who’s tickling him. But it never works. Just go ahead, he loves this stuff!”
Miles simply looked at Hobie and smiled. Hobie sighed and shrugged.
“Wurf a shot, roight?” he said. Miles grabbed the hem of Hobie’s shirt and pulled up, finding a pleasant surprise.
“No way!” he exclaimed.
“What is it?” Pavitr poked his head up.
“Did you find an embarrassing birthmark? A third nipple??” Gwen said, running back from the kitchen, all too excited to find something humiliating to tease Hobie for.
“No, look!” Miles pointed his finger to his stomach where it harbored a black and silver belly button piercing with an upside down cross. The three gawked as they looked at it, giving the punk a longer break.
“Holy crap you have a belly piercing??” Pavitr asked, bewildered.
“You should see what else I have pierced~” Hobie said with a wink to his friends.
There were three seconds of silence before Pavitr barked out, “YOU PIERCED YOUR PENIS?!?”
Everyone burst out into hysterical laughter at Pav’s declaration. Miles deflated onto Hobie’s chest, Gwen slumped against the back of the couch, and Hobie just cackled as if they started tickling him again.
“No Pahav, mah nips! I pierced mah nipples, ya goon! I’m fuckin’ out mah mind, not crazy! Pahahaha!” Hobie said, giggling out of his mind.
“Oh my god, I wish I had that recorded!” Gwen cried out through her laughter. Miles just held his head on Hobie’s chest and snickered hysterically. Pavitr blushed from embarrassment but started laughing too. And Hobie was a mess. He was giggling so much that he started to let out tiny snorts. Miles shot up when he heard them.
“You snort when you laugh!” Brooklyn’s Spider-Man accused, pointing a finger right in the punk’s face. “Why did you rip on me when you snort too? You’re such a hypocrite!”
Hobie just giggled and said, “Cause it’s cuter when you do it! ‘S adorable, mate, ‘ow can I not tease ya?”
“Oh, you’re getting it now!” Miles declared, raising his two hands and forming them into claws. “Any last words?~”
“Sleep with one eye open- yeEEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Hobie taunted then screamed as Miles dug into his stomach. He used the same method he used on his ribs, only this time, he used tiny sparks of his venom to add more to its kick. Hobie jerked up hard, nearly sending Miles flying, but the teen just laughed and held on tighter.
“Haha! Oh man, regret teasing me yet? Or do you need more persuasion?” Miles asked as he kneaded and zapped Hobie’s toned stomach. Hobie just barked out loud laughter as he swung around, thrashing like a rodeo bull. Pav looked shocked but was laughing with them as Gwen started recording again.
“FAHAHAHAHAHAHAHACK MIHIHIHIHIHIHILES!! CH-CHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEAT!! YOU CHEHEHEHEHEHEAT!! NOHOHOHOHO VEHEHEHEHEHENOM!! MAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAILES!!!” Hobie threw his head back and cackled like a madman.
“Holy crap! You’re ruthless Miles! That’s his worst spot!” Pavitr said. It was unaware if he was warning Miles or encouraging him.
Either way, Hobie genuinely looked like he was having fun. His smile was wide and unapologetic, his eyes closed as his nose scrunched tight. It was a beautiful sight and such a 180 from his normal personality. Miles was going to ask for every single video and picture Gwen was taking at that very moment. And every other video or picture where Hobie’s getting tickled.
“You think this is ruthless?” Miles asked, removing his hands to give Hobie a very short lived break. “Let me show you what my Uncle Aaron taught my dad when I was a kid.”
“You… you still are a kid… bitch…” Hobie panted out. Now his fate was sealed. Miles furrowed his brows and smiled. Without any warning, Miles rapidly squeezed his hands against Hobie’s sides and inhaled deeply before blowing a massive raspberry on the punk’s stomach. Hobie fucking lost it. He arched up high and his laughter went silent. Then, it roared out of him as if he was the offspring of a lion and hyena.
“MAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAILES!!!! SHIHIHIHIHIHIHI- FAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOT AGAIN! NOT AGAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAIN!!! YOUHUHU FUCKIN PEHEHEHEHEHEST!! AHAHAHAHAHA SHIT!! OK!! OKOKOK AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! I TAHAHAHAHAKE IT BAHAHAHAHAHAHACK!!” Miles sat back and laughed a bit, enjoying how easily he picked apart his friend.
“Come on, punk rocker! Can’t handle a few wittle tickews? You’re lucky I’m not shocking you! Or going after your piercing~ Man, how hellish would that be?” Brooklyn’s Spider-Man taunted. Hobie was ballistic. Pav noticed this and was about to warn Miles to stop when his spider sense went off. He looked up to the front door and saw the doorknob turning and heard the sound of jingling keys.
“Miles, stop! Your parents are home!” Pavitr said, quickly fishing Hobie’s pocket knife from the punk’s discarded jacket. Miles looked up and towards the hall. He sprang off Hobie as Gwen casually went to get another cup of water. Pavitr cut the webs and Miles helped calm Hobie down just as Rio Morales walked in.
“Miles? Everything alright? It sounded like someone was dying in here,” she said, hanging up her purse and walking into the living room. What she found was quite the wholesome sight. The tv was on as Miles and Pav sat with Hobie on the couch, laughing at some sitcom that was playing. Gwen came from the kitchen and smiled to Rio.
“Sorry, Rio- I mean, Mrs. Morales. The show we were watching is just super funny! I was about to make us some popcorn, want a bag?” the blonde spider-woman somewhat lied, distracting the woman. Meanwhile, Hobie was leaning back on the couch and hugging his torso, still recovering from the harsh tickles he received. Miles immediately felt guilty.
“Hey man, you alright? I went too far, didn’t I?” he asked, looking at Hobie with a worried glance. Hobie just chuckled, and as if he had regained all of his strength just then, he swooped an arm around Miles’ neck and dug his knuckles into his head, giving him a noogie.
“Ah, you little bugga! Who knew you were such a meanie? Yeah, I’s jus ‘bout to tap out. But you good mahn! Was super fun. You’ll still have to watch your back~” Hobie cooed that last part into his ear as he squeezed his ribs, making Miles bark out a laugh.
The teens went on with their night, Gwen declaring that one day she’d get her own personal revenge on Hobie (even though they argued that the pictures and photos she took were her revenge). They found a movie and nuzzled into a large cuddle pile, falling asleep in the blankets and pillows, all of them leaning on Hobie.
And the last thing Hobie thought before he faded into sleep was, God my friends are the best.
asjdfhlkashdf okok so it's been a hot minute since I've written fanfiction, but I saw the best idea on @tickles-tea 's page and I wanted to give it a go! :)
(Also I blanked on a title so I just kinda wrote the first thing in my mind lol)
It was irritating, to say the least. For the first time in months, it felt like Miguel had finally been able to sit down and relax for at least 15 minutes. Of course, the moment after the clock struck 8:46 p.m Lyla had notified him of another anomaly wreaking havoc within the holding center. Business as usual.
"So, what you're saying is that they had him *in the room* and he still got loose?" Miguel grumbled, hastily making his way to the location with his wrist held above his chest. Lyla's avatar projected above Miguel's wrist, her hand resting on her bicep as she swiped through a couple screens to bring up a profile and appearance.
"They were very frugal about the exacts, but they said, and I quote 'he was a very slippery criminal'. He's from Earth-57780 with dark hair, a-"
"What, so another 'Slyde' anomaly?" Miguel introjected, his brows furrowing with frustration. Before he could further his musing on the difficulty, Lyla provided further detail as he entered an empty containment sect.
"No, not a Slyde. His name is 'The Tickler'." She corrected, her demeanor lax and unbothered. Miguel paused for a moment, slowing his speed as he attempted to remain perceptive and gather more information.
"You're kidding." He huffed, already knowing the answer was 'no'. "They seriously couldn't grab him? That's gotta easily be one of the easier anomalies all year."
Miguel's irritation was rising as he marched through the room, glancing at empty containment pods and stacks of boxes.
"I wouldn't say that, exactly. Tickling triggers a panic response in your body that makes it hard to focus and can cause a falter in judgment." Lyla stated matter of factly. Miguel snorted dryly, grateful his mask was on to hide the flush rising to his cheeks.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's just get this over with. Has there been any sighting of-" Miguel cut himself off as he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, readying himself to pounce. Lyla took this as a sign to cut her avatar, lowering the light as Miguel crept further. His slow steps made him inaudible before lurching towards where the movement was and-
nothing.
In Miguel's confusion something grabbed him from behind another box, its grip firm as Miguel twisted himself back to throw a punch. The anomaly clung tight, one hand slipping under Miguel's arm and the other wrapped and clutching to his hip for dear life. The Tickler anomaly wrapped his legs around Miguel, situating himself like a backpack before wiggling his fingers.
Miguel's left arm came crashing down to his side as a strangled grunt caught in his throat, coming forth from his crouch to his knees and attempting to use his other hand to grab the man off of his back. Fingers dug into his hips causing Miguel to curl in on himself and unfortunately trap his captor's hands with him.
"Ticklish, big guy?" The anomaly taunted with a pleased chuckle, pressing his fingers in and vibrating as Miguel desperately attempted to contain his reactions.
"Shut up." Miguel growled out, once more trying to push through and lift his left arm to grab the other man's collar while using his other hand to tug at the hand on his hip. He realized his mistake once fingers trailed their way under his arm completely, his body curling in on himself once more and trapping the unrelenting fingers in their movements. Miguel's shoulders shook with the threat of laughter, trying to focus on a way to capture the anomaly. Alas, the task proved itself difficult. The Tickler laughed triumphantly, using the hand on Miguel's hip to scribble over the textured suit material.
"What's wrong? Did I find something?" The villain teased as Miguel choked back giggles. If he could just stop moving his fingers for one moment Miguel could easily flip this guy onto his back and trap him in one of those pods. He felt himself start to lose a bit of control as both hands continued their assault, never once pausing for even a second. Miguel barked out a laugh as a finger pressed under his arm, breaking the dam as he squirmed under the touch.
"Quit it!" Miguel demanded, the hand on his hip migrating to his bottom ribs and clawing lightly. Laughter flooded out of him as he swung his head back to try and at least get one hit in but missing onto the anomaly's shoulder. The move assisted him no further as the hand on his ribs slipped from under his left elbow and held his jaw in place. A surprised yelp jolted from him as he felt the fingers drag over his neck and cause his laughter to raise in volume. Miguel tried bunching up his shoulders in a last attempt to protect himself before he felt something soft flutter behind his ear. The movement was all it took before Miguel curled into a pile of giggles, his face flushed as The Tickler brought out the tool from his gloves. He couldn't focus on *how* the anomaly even got past his suit as he grabbed for any sort of leverage. Between the fingers under his arms and the feather fluttering behind his ear, he was a mess.
"¡Basta, bastardo!" Miguel barked through his laughter. He wasn't very intimidating though, and to his dismay the anomaly pushed him to the ground and managed to pin him on his stomach.
"Sorry pal, I don't speak spanish." The Tickler stated, growing cockier with every growing second. Miguel finally managed to flip over and push him off with his foot, sending him back tumbling into some boxes. He managed to catch his breath a hint before entangling him with a laser web, keeping him still as Miguel continued to draw in heavy breaths.
"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" Miguel growled, standing up and leaning against an empty containment pod before opening it and sliding the disk under the anomaly. His face was flushed and to his relief, his mask was still intact, leaving him to wonder how The Tickler got past his technology in the first place. He left, grumbling to himself before Lyla popped up again with a cocky smirk.
"How was that for 'the easiest anomaly all year'?" She teased. Miguel glared at her avatar, avoiding entertaining the playful jab.
"What happened to my suit earlier." The question came out as more of a demand, the AI shrugging her shoulders with a knowing grin.
"Well, I figured I couldn't let it be *too* easy on you. Not to mention you've been talking about how you've been needing to find a reason to relax for a bi-"
"Relax? That was relaxing?" Miguel interrupted, sounding slightly exasperated. However, he couldn't deny that under certain circumstances it could be nice...
"Laughing replaces cortisol with dopamine, oxytocin and endorphins which, in other words, is an excellent stress reliever." Lyla remarked smartly, leaving Miguel to shake his head and scoff.
"Yeah, well... maybe don't have an anomaly do that next time." He huffed.
"I can see if Peter B. Parker would be willing to, he's been begging me to send him any information to get you to 'loosen up'." Lyla offered. Miguel's silence spoke volumes as Lyla already began sending a message. "I'll let him know you're interested." She winked, leaving Miguel as he began to sputter out protests.
"Wait- I didn't..." Miguel trailed off, pausing once he returned to his workspace. Maybe, he thought. Maybe he could accept that.
Panda's Notes: Hello, hi, yes, I have been slightly obsessing over this AU for the past few months, and I finally finished...a part. >w< Buckle in, kids, this is a lot longer than I first thought it would be. You can once again thank the lovely @rosileeduckie for facilitating my nonsense.
...What? No, I totally don't have recent commitments that have an encroaching deadline. What are you talking about?!
[Ao3] || [Commissions] || [Ko-fi]
[1] || [2]
Warning: ~10K words about Miles brutalizing some folks. Enjoy. >w<
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Miles had a terrible habit of getting drawn in by Ganke’s nonsense.
“Hey, that character looks sick; you make that?” turned into binging episodes of an anime every night through junior year. He wasn’t complaining, but somewhere between the third movie and the 700th episode, it was a miracle his grades hadn’t completely tanked.
“Dude, nice shirt! Do those, like, spell something, or…?” became an entirely different binge through half of senior year. And Miles maybe fudged the truth a bit with one of his art teachers when he submitted a project that was only loosely inspired. Again, not complaining!
“Oh, nice mash-up, man; I loved that song when I was a kid, but I don’t know where it’s from.” You’ll never guess what happened after that. Those games were fire, though, and at least this time, he could move at his own pace, even if Ganke was nagging him over text every few days while he was away at college to geek out.
When Freshman year ended—finally, thank the gods—and Miles returned to New York, he was met at the train station by Ganke and immediately dragged to the apartment he was sharing with—
“You moved in with my brother?!” He asked in disbelief. “Wait, I didn’t even know he left home!”
“Well, technically… Your parents don’t entirely know yet—”
“What?!”
“—And he hasn’t actually moved out. I did. We just split rent here. Both of us have jobs and projects going pretty well, and he kinda just tells them he’s hanging out at my place, which is technically still true; they just don’t know my parents aren’t here—”
“Hold up, wait—” Miles flailed a bit to interrupt Ganke’s rambling. “Gross; is this like ya’ll’s love nest or something?”
Ganke’s arms dropped to his sides, a bright blush coloring his pouting face as he glared at Miles. Miles just snickered and crossed his arms tauntingly. “I’m not hearing a no, Mr. Lee~”
“Y’know, when he tossed out the idea of letting you borrow his room while he’s at school—just, like, use it as an extra little art room or whatever—I thought ‘wow, just like when we were roommates at Visions; how funny!’. But now, I’m gonna tell him you’re banned.”
“Pfft, what?!” Miles giggled, following Ganke toward the back of the apartment.
“Yep, calling him right now…” Ganke pulled his phone out of his pocket all dramatically, pretending to scroll through it.
“Ooh, I bet you have him saved under something dorky~” Miles had lunged forward, hands squeezing playfully at Ganke’s sides as he made obviously fake efforts to peek at his phone. He had a sort of squawking-type laugh whenever he was caught off guard, and Miles loved it. Even when they first met back in high school, Miles had made a habit of sneaking up and prodding him. They liked to get into little fights, usually ending in Miles wrestling Ganke into an easy pin while sneaking scribbles up his sides.
This is important information, because today, and today alone, Ganke suddenly wrenched his arm out from under his own weight, hooking Miles by the arm and rolling both of them into a reversed position. He sat heavily on Miles’ waist, his hands quickly moving to try and worm fingers into his armpits. Miles’ legs kicked as he hugged his arms tight to his sides, and his voice was tangled in nervous squeaks and giggles.
“Someone’s awfully squeaky for starting a fight with the one who knows your weak spots.” Ganke sneered, pressing lightly along the edges of Miles’ ribs to try and slip through his defenses.
“W-When did you get good at wrestling?” He asked through clenched teeth, trying to twist to one side.
“Hm, probably around the time you started sucking at it.” Ganke taunted, raising his hands slightly and wiggling his fingers.
“I do not!” Miles argued with a laugh, his leg kicking out when a few fingers traced along his neck. There was a jarring thump, and despite Miles apparently not feeling pain all of a sudden, both of them were concerned when a few things fell off of the dresser he’d kicked.
“Goddamn, you have been here for ten minutes, and you’re destroying the place!” Ganke teased, pushing himself up off of his poor guest.
“That was not my fault, and you know it.” Miles giggled as he sat up, picking up the picture frame that had fallen beside him. He glanced at it as he stood up, curiosity taking over his face as he realized something.
“Hey, wait a second; I’ve never seen you wear this!” He noted with a laugh as he got to his feet. Ganke peeked over his shoulder, and a chuckle slipped out as he remembered the photo. He was in some costume, mostly purple and some bright green. Looked like a cut-off t-shirt under a biker jacket. There was a paw print drawn on his stomach and whiskers drawn on his cheeks, and he was grinning like a champion as he held up what looked like a gold medal. If it was the same medal dangling from a hook next to the mirror, it was definitely plastic.
“Haven’t worn it in a while either.” Ganke shrugged, taking the frame and setting it just so under where the medal hung. “I should probably bring it home and wash it, actually.” He reached up and pulled the medal off the hook, smiling fondly as he ran his thumb over the feathers embossed in the plastic. He smirked slightly as he caught Miles staring at it in that all-too-familiar way.
“You wanna know how I got it~?” He asked almost tauntingly, and he laughed as Miles slapped his arm and pouted.
He seemed to be physically struggling with himself, crossing his arms as he kicked childishly at the carpet. “…Yeah.” He admitted, smiling in defeat.
-----------
“Okay, so, final checklist: the safe word is Blackout.” Ganke explained as he led Miles down the hall from the changing room. “It’s the real deal though; we basically shut the whole thing down. Very different from tapping out. Do not confuse the two. What’s the safe word?”
“Blackout.” Miles said firmly, wrapping the last loop of tape around his hand and cracking his knuckles softly.
“Nice.”
Miles was wearing a slightly loose t-shirt—kindly loaned by Ganke—and some old basketball shorts. Ganke had been pretty coy about what all this was supposed to be. He seemed to struggle with what to tell Miles without giving the whole thing away. He eventually settled on saying it was somewhere between wrestling and improv club. And, coincidentally, there was an “open tournament” coming up. It was one of the ways they invited new members; the “hands-on” way, so to speak.
“Let me see your nails…” Ganke murmured, taking each of Miles’ hands for a moment as they walked. “Okay, so, we have a little side room you’ll be waiting in. You’ll know the signal when you hear it. You’re still cool with the audience, right? It’s just the theater dorks from the other side of the building; twenty people, max.”
“I’m fine with a little crowd.” Miles chuckled, shifting closer to elbow him gently. “You still haven’t told me what’s going to happen though.”
Ganke laughed lightly and shrugged. “What’s to know? You either pin your opponent for ten seconds or you tap out if you can’t handle it. Nothing else at all~”
“You are awful.”
They chuckled with each other for a moment before quick footsteps suddenly approached from behind them. Two people jogged past them with hoods up, laughing casually as they waved at Ganke and kept running.
“Hey, you guys are late!” Ganke scolded playfully as they disappeared through a door.
“Oh, we’re late?” Miles almost flinched at the sound of a third, heavily accented voice, and someone purposefully shouldered past him. More like elbowed past him, really, which Miles realized when he turned to see a man at least a head taller than him sauntering by. “Shouldn’t you be in the booth then, mate?” His hair was done up in thick locs, and those were tied back behind his head. The man’s dark eyes fell on Miles like a weight, but he smirked as he lifted a hand from his pocket and lightly tapped Miles’ shoulder with the back of it. “Ey, you brought a new fish. Looks like he won’t last a minute.”
Miles scoffed silently, managing to contain his offended face as the man sneered and stepped away. “What’s his problem?” He asked Ganke, trying not to smile.
Ganke shrugged and snickered. “We wonder that every day, man.”
“He thinks he’s the final boss or something?” Miles asked just a bit louder than necessary, a grin pulling his lips as the man stopped and looked pointedly back at them.
Ganke looked between them for a moment, grinning a bit himself as he moved to block them. “Okay, I see where this is going. Save it for the ring, you nerds!” He teased, pressing his palm to Miles’ chest and shooing the other man away. “On ya bike, then!”
The tall man snorted, throwing his hands up as he turned and went through the door the others had used. Ganke smirked as he nudged Miles to a different door.
“You go in through here. There’s an exit on the other side. Like I said: you’ll know the signal when you hear it.” He instructed, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Good luck! You know I’m rooting for you—Oh! Real quick, uh…” He pulled his hand back with an apologetic wince after grabbing Miles’ arm. “Since this is just a trial thing, we usually don’t use challengers’ real names. Privacy; just in case. You, uh, got a name in mind?”
“Geez, put me on the spot, why don’t you?” Miles wrung his hands a bit, looking away as he itched the side of his head. “I…I kinda like New Fish…” He admitted a bit hesitantly.
Ganke snorted, almost giggling. “Seriously?”
“Shut up…”
“Hey, I’m not judging~ Much.” He taunted, shoving Miles playfully before starting to pull the door closed. “What’s your safeword?”
“Blackout.” Miles spoke with an audible pout as Ganke still smirked at him.
“This is going to be great.” He snickered, motioning to Miles with one hand. “No shoes in the ring, man. See you out there.”
Miles rolled his eyes, pulling his sneakers off as he sat on a bench to wait for this supposedly obvious signal.
-------------
There was always something about the ring. Okay, look, it’s not actually a real fighting ring or anything, but just—Here, try to imagine:
There’s the timbre of the crowd: the rhythm of applause and little echoes of folks calling out their favorite cheers. When Ganke jogged into the room and the cheers redoubled, he couldn’t stop himself from basking with a grin before continuing his rush to the “Commentators’ Booth”. Frankly, they owed the theater club a lot for being such good sports; it almost felt like it was grander than eighteen chairs situated around a large square arrangement of blue gym mats.
“Little late, aren’t we, Mr. Lee~?” The young lady in the chair beside him taunted as Ganke slid into the booth. “I almost wanted to start without you.”
“Very funny, Margo.” He chuckled, leaning under their table to fiddle with the volume knob on the boombox their microphones were plugged into. “I wouldn’t miss tonight for the world; not with this turnout either!”
The audience cheered in response. They knew their roles well for not being around in a while.
“Ooh, I do love a good crowd.” Margo readjusted the cat ears clipped into her braids. “More importantly, though, we finally have a challenger again. Feels like it’s been forever.”
“Hasn’t it been, though?” Ganke sighed dramatically, resting the back of his hand on his forehead. “Reminds me of our time in the ring; those were the days.”
“Ganke, that was only, like, four months ago.”
He leaned back in his chair, draping his whole arm across his face as he pulled his microphone closer with the other hand. “An eternity in my heart, Margie.”
Margo rolled her eyes and snuck a poke at his exposed side. “Anyway, I hear this one’s a friend of yours. Any details you can sneak us?”
Ganke snickered and bat her hand away. “Nah, you’re not getting anything out of me that easily. Just know I’m betting on him. Honestly, I can’t believe he didn’t join sooner.”
“Only thing I can’t believe is that he actually let himself be called New Fish.” Margo murmured intentionally into the microphone, earning chuckles from the crowd. She blinked as her watch buzzed against her wrist. “Ooh, the gang is getting restless. Make noise; make noise!” She hit the table with open palms, signaling the audience to clap and stomp while she stood from her chair. “Yeah, get hype! And let’s welcome our newest challenger!”
Right on cue, the “challengers’” locker room door opened, and the audience cheered as Miles walked out into the small gym. He seemed just a bit nervous, but he smiled as he walked, fidgeting with his hands while he approached the mat.
“Ooh, you didn’t tell me he was cute!” Margo giggled as she sat back down. “Looks a bit familiar though, doesn’t he~?” She’d placed her hand slightly over the microphone, sneering at Ganke as she elbowed his side.
“You shut up.” He shot back, looking away as he blushed. “Absolutely irrelevant. Although, actually, I don’t really know why he never came until now.”
“Did you tell him what we’re all about?” She glanced between him and their guest waving shyly at some audience members.
Ganke leaned back in the chair, unable to keep the mischief out of his grin. “Oh…I told him enough.”
She laughed softly, giving him a little kick under the table. “Terrible.”
He smirked, letting his chair’s legs thump on the floor as he hopped to his feet. “Alright, Fish!” He called, motioning Miles over to the so-called ring. “Let’s get you in the tank, because we’re bringing out your first opponent!”
------------------
The second locker room door was pushed open, and the small crowd cheered excitedly. Miles watched warily as one of the robed figures they’d passed in the hallway casually walked out. Halfway to the mat, they finally lifted their hood off, revealing a young man just about Miles’ height with light brown skin, the brightest, most joyful eyes, and some amazing shiny hair that he started to tie under a gold headband after handing his robe over to Ganke.
He was dressed almost identically to Miles in terms of shirt and shorts style—which he was quick to point out as he stepped onto the mat—but he had several different spider shapes tattooed—or maybe just drawn—up and down his arms in glittery gold ink.
“If I had known we were going to dress the same, I’d have asked Claw to give you a color to match, machhalee.” He spoke with an Indian accent, and he took a few steps slowly to hint Miles to do the same. His eyes seemed to light up as Miles matched his circular movement, but he schooled his expression and casually set his hands behind his back. “Sooo, New Fish, since you’re new, Fish, we’ll be using our names too. They call me Sona here. Well, they call me a lot of things, but Sona’s the one I picked out.”
Miles chuckled softly, resting his hands in his pockets as they circled each other. “Sounds nice. Kinda like it means something when you say it like that.”
“Oh, it does.” Sona grinned playfully. “If you survive, I’ll tell you what it means.”
“Survive?” Miles brought a hand on his chest, letting his face act shocked. “Oh, it’s a death match, eh? I see you.”
Sona paused, giggling as he started to walk again. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”
Miles shrugged with a grin. “Well, I’ve known…Claw?” He glanced over at Ganke, who nodded smugly. “I’ve known him a while. ‘No Spoilers’ is one of his Nerd Laws.”
“Hey!” Ganke called as the audience chuckled. “Pretty sure I didn’t drag you out here to insult me!”
Sona snickered. “Ah, I don’t really know how I feel about them hiding stuff from challengers, buuut, I admit I like a little surprise. So, I guess I’ll give you a hint.” He stopped, and Miles grew wary as he closed a bit of distance with slow steps. “…Tickle fight!” He laughed as he lunged.
Miles flinched, nervous excitement shooting through him at the call before he really processed what had just been said. He planted his feet firmly, catching Sona’s hands in his own and holding him back. “W-Wait; what?!” He asked in disbelief.
“Ooh, subtlety be damned; let’s go!” Ganke called as the audience cheered them on.
“Shine bright, Golden Boy!” The girl beside him—Margo, he was pretty sure—laughed, picking up her microphone.
“You’ve got some reflexes on you, huh?” Sona teased, curling his fingers where they were caught between Miles’.
“Were you actually serious?” He felt like he’d been blindsided, and, well, he had been. “It’s a tickle fight?!”
“Well~ We try not to be too serious around here.” Sona giggled. “But I wasn’t kidding.” He leaned suddenly to one side, and Miles stumbled as he yanked his hands back and shoved them against Miles’ sides. Sona followed him as he fell to the mat, kneeling beside Miles and scribbling across his stomach.
“Little early in the game to be floundering, isn’t it, Fish?” Sona teased, grabbing at Miles’ wrist as he giggled loudly. The audience groaned around sparse snickers, and Sona nearly giggled too.
Miles let out a harder laugh of his own, trying to pull his hand back. “Oho, he’s got jokes, huh? I—Hey!” He squeaked and twisted as Sona’s hand moved to squeeze up and down his flank.
“You what?” Sona smirked a bit as Miles’ free hand caught his wrist, letting his fingers scratch insistently at his hipbone as he squirmed. “You’re ticklish? You still seem a little shellshocked.” Sona walked his hand up Miles’ side, clawing quickly into his ribcage.
Miles tried to glare up at his opponent, but he couldn't fight the grin on his face. Sona was goofy and gentle; he didn’t seem to weigh much—Miles tested with weak pulls on his wrist. Oh, this was definitely going to be fun. In a quick, fluid motion, he let go of Sona’s hand and grabbed ahold of his shirt, pushing off the mat with one foot as he pulled Sona down. The audience cheered excitedly when Miles managed to roll them over, and he boxed his knees firmly against Sona’s shins.
Sona’s eyes were lit up with panic, and his cheeks ran a bit red as he laughed nervously. “Hi…” He giggled, holding his hands close to his chest.
Miles smirked, resting his hands on Sona’s wrists. “Hey.” He pulled the other man up suddenly, wrapping him in a hug and squeezing tight to pin his arms against his ribs.
“Oh, my God.” Ganke snorted, holding the mic away from his face for a moment. “I know this one.”
His cohost sat up straighter, leaning to nudge him with her shoulder. “Yeah? You want to clue us in?”
He started to say something when Sona let out a loud squeak and writhed.
“Aw, seriously?” Miles chuckled just a bit overdramatically, drawing one finger slowly back down Sona’s spine. “You totally seem like the type to have Angel Wings. Hm, maybe…” He shifted both of his hands, scribbling his nails across his shoulder blades and grinning as Sona giggled brightly and seemed to try more not to move.
“Ohh, I see now~” Miles teased right in Sona’s ear, smiling brighter at the way his giggles escalated. “That’s almost a shame.”
“N-No talking!” He whined halfheartedly, just barely managing to twist his hands enough to scribble at Miles’ waist. This quickly backfired when Miles’ flinch made him squeeze Sona closer.
“But if I don’t talk…” Miles nearly bit his tongue as he stifled a squeak. “How am I going to count these ribs of yours?” He pressed circles against the highest bone on his ribcage, sneaking his hand to that spot right under his armpit.
Sona let out a loud laugh, wrenching his arms out of Miles’ hold—almost as if he wasn’t holding him at all, actually—and shoving against Miles’ shoulders. The effort wound up pushing Sona’s back against the mat, and Miles was happy to reward him with all ten fingers digging into his ribs without a hint of mercy. This time, he didn’t even bother to grab at Miles’ hands, his arms wrapping loosely around himself as he laughed loudly.
Miles chuckled and shook his head, kneading along his lowest ribs and smirking when he squealed. “Shine bright, Golden Boy~!” He taunted, grinning brightly at the incredulous noise he heard Margo make behind him.
Sona blushed and put one arm over his face, the other flailing light slaps on Miles’ shoulder.
“That’s a tap!” Ganke called excitedly, standing up as the crowd applauded. “Sona is out!”
Miles blinked, letting his fingers go still as he glanced around the room. They were cheering for him—for both of them, really. Sona smiled up at him as he giggled and caught his breath.
“Don’t clap too hard now,” Margo snarked a bit teasingly while Miles was pulling his opponent to his feet. “Literally everyone beats Sona.”
Ganke scoffed, clearly in disbelief. “Oh, yeah?! Where was that energy when he had you on the mat last week?”
They took their time with their playful argument, and Miles took the opportunity to shake Sona’s hand, which he returned excitedly.
“You were amazing.” He said in a near whisper, his eyes bright as giggles still lined his voice.
“Yeah?” Miles said coolly, leaning a bit closer to him. “Well, next time, I want a real fight.”
Sona visibly prickled, his face running a bit redder before he just…smirked. His eyes had gone from playful to almost devious. “Oh, I don’t know if you’re ready for all that, Fish.”
It gave Miles a bit of pause. He might have just been hooked. Sona grinned again, bright as the sun, and caught Miles in a hug before taking his walk of shame. He grabbed his robe off of Ganke’s chair as he passed it and slung it across his shoulders, speeding up to a jog as he went back through the locker room door he’d originally come from. Miles stood just a bit awkwardly alone on the mat, a slight smirk pulling his lips as he fidgeted with his hands.
“Someone looks proud of himself~” Miles shot a slight glare at Margo, and she sneered back tauntingly. “Hey, keep that attitude, tough guy. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together; because we’re giving up the Ghost!”
The audience was suddenly loud and talkative; Miles could hear playful teases and jabs—particularly some coos about Ghost being adorable—under the clapping as the door opened again. Sure enough, it was the second character he remembered passing in the hallway. Pale-skinned hands came up to pull the hood back and…Miles was definitely not going to survive today unscathed.
“Ghost” was a blonde with bright blue eyes and one side of her head shaved down, and when she grinned over at Miles, he caught the piercing on her eyebrow. He gave an internal pout as he remembered his studs were with his jacket. She seemed to whisper something to Margo before letting the robe drop from her shoulders and handing it off. She was wearing a cropped t-shirt, cut just above her stomach, a loose long-sleeved jacket that stopped under her chest, and, frankly, Miles was pretty sure those were just pajama pants. Something that quickly caught his eye was the spider drawn on one side of her stomach in blue and pink. He couldn’t help but grin as she stepped onto the mat, stepping back slightly as she took a mark and rested her hands in her pants pockets.
“Eyes are up here, thanks.” She teased with a little wave; he could tell she couldn’t resist.
Miles almost laughed too, resting his hand slightly over his mouth as he tore his gaze from her little tattoo. “I’ll have you know I’m actually terrible at eye contact.”
She snickered, shaking her head as they started to circle each other, and Miles already knew he had to hear her laugh.
“Ooh, she’s hooked him.” Miles had a feeling he and Margo would get along.
Miles pouted as he felt his face heat up, and Ghost chuckled, twirling casually as they continued to walk.
“Don’t worry, Li’l Fish,” She called playfully. “You learn to ignore the peanut gallery.”
“Excuse the hell outta you?” Ganke said firmly, causing Ghost to freeze, and Margo and the audience “Ooh~”-ed teasingly.
Ghost cringed and blushed, covering her face with both hands as she giggled.
Miles had kept walking, and he let his shoulder nudge against hers as he spoke. “So…how’s that ignoring thing workin’ out for you?”
She gave him a playful shove as the audience snickered, putting the distance between them again and smirking. “You hush.”
Miles smirked back, resting his hands on his hips. “So, why Ghost? You don’t seem so scary.”
“You think that now, sure.” She fished under her sleeve and pulled a hair tie off of her wrist, pulling her hair up into a ponytail before putting one hand back in her pocket. “But I’m told I can be haunting.” She wiggled her fingers teasingly, showing off brightly painted nails, and Miles chuckled.
“Okay, okay; you’re cute. Is that what you want to hear?”
She nearly froze up again, hints of red filling her cheeks as she smiled shyly. “Am not.”
“You so are, though. And besides, between the two of us, I’m not the one with their weak spot all exposed.”
She eyed him warily, giggles lining her voice. “You’re asking for it, huh?”
“Why don’t you come over and give it to me, then?” Miles was glad his back was to the crowd by now, but he found himself smirking as they shouted playfully. Margo and Ganke watched him with shocked smiles, and she pawed at his shoulder.
“Where were you hiding this guy?! Definitely my new favorite.” She laughed.
Ghost, similarly, had laughed in disbelief, and Miles almost sneered as he shrugged.
“Hey, if she giggles herself half to death before I even get my hands on her, do I still win?” He snickered as Ghost looked absolutely offended.
“I’m gonna say yes!” Ganke said quickly, grinning as Ghost glared at him.
“You guys can’t just change the rules!”
Ganke looked to Margo. “I think we can.”
Margo nodded with a shrug. “I think we should.”
He smirked back at Ghost. “Just for you. Since we love you so much.”
As they spoke, Miles had inched forward, lifting one hand to aim a poke at her very exposed stomach.
And she sidestepped him easily, her hand clutching tightly on his wrist. She grinned toothily as he looked up at her, and she yanked him off balance as she swept his legs with one foot. Well, this felt familiar. He managed to keep his chin from hitting the mat, and he felt Ghost’s hand press on his back as she leaned over him. He glanced up at her, but as he made eye contact, she smirked and pushed herself away.
He felt her weight settle on his thighs, and before he could try to twist, he burst into loud laughter as her nails snuck under his shirt to scribble against his lower back. He pulled his hands in close to his chest to keep himself from flailing before reaching to grab at one of her wrists. She seemed perfectly fine to let him, and her other hand was quick to zip up his spine and pinch gingerly at the back of his neck. Miles would definitely deny the shriek he let out, but he laughed and tried to push himself over. Ghost chuckled, twisting her wrist to get ahold of his while she stood up again. She pulled him quickly onto his back, straddling his waist this time as she slipped her wrist suddenly out of his hand by pulling it back through her sleeve. She snatched his wrist with her free hand when he tried for her stomach again, and she grinned nervously as he sneered up at her.
“I’m so gonna get you~” He taunted, laughing lightly as her face went red again.
There was a hint of a stalemate, with Miles trying to read her eyes while she watched his face. All of a sudden, her sleeve was yanked out of his grip, and her hand was shooting to scribble her nails against his neck. Instantly, he cracked, laughing loudly and flailing to grab ahold of her wrists. Even when she let go of his wrist to get both hands against his neck, he couldn’t help but focus on trying to block her, and, dammit, she was much stronger than she looked.
He could hear the audience going wild as he tried to struggle, and Ghost giggled softly as she leaned closer to him. “What happened to all that big talk, Li’l Fish~?” She whispered into his ear. “Not so tough now, are we?” She took a breath before blowing gently into his ear, and Miles kicked against the mat as he practically shrieked again. The audience got a bit louder as Ghost looked expectantly at the judges.
“Aw, he kicks; that’s so cute!” Margo laughed, only for a bit of panic to shoot through her expression when Ghost turned to them. “Wait, does kicking count?! We didn’t talk about that.”
Ganke had bit his lip, glancing between the two women and the audience, and he realized he wasn’t containing his smirk very well. “I’m gonna say kicking doesn’t count today!”
“Wha—Since when?!” Ghost’s voice was pretty close to real outrage as her hands suddenly stopped, and a select few audience members backed her up with jeers.
“Since I said so!” He said more firmly, chuckling. “Consider it a perk of being in the peanut gallery.”
The audience laughed, and Ghost rolled her eyes before looking back down at Miles. As she did, he’d moved his hands, managing to land them on her waist and pressing his thumbs into her hips. She squeaked and shoved herself back, stumbling slightly as she scrambled out of his reach.
“Now she wants to run, huh?” Miles snorted, his hand catching around her ankle only for her to slip his hold before he had a full grip. She was quick to return the gesture, yanking his ankles before he could try to get up and kneeling on one of them. He struggled to push himself up onto his hands, only to nearly fall again when she dug all ten fingers into his socked sole. Keeping his hands still now was definitely nearing impossible, but he tried to also keep in mind to not kick her off of him. But, wow, she was merciless.
“So, toes are bad, huh?” She teased over his laughter, scratching under his toes as they curled tightly. “Not your weak spot, but you might get along with—Eek!”
Miles couldn’t tell if she actually didn’t expect it or she just got cocky, but she didn’t duck away this time. He’d pushed himself forward, snatching the back of her hoodie and pulling her into his arms before falling backwards. The audience was loud again as she tried to flail out of his grip, her voice already tangling itself in giggly protests as he fought to wrestle both of her arms against her sides without losing his grip on her.
“Quit that!” He giggled along with her when she kept trying to shove his face. “And what are you laughing about? I haven’t done anything yet!”
“Shut up!” She squeaked, laughing softly as she tried to catch her breath.
“You tired now, li’l fish? Flopping all over the damn place like that.” Miles taunted into her ear, smirking as she cringed and giggled. He spoke a bit louder as he heaved them both upright while keeping her square in his lap. “I’ve figured you out, by the way, they call you Ghost ‘cause you’re slippery, right? You ‘phase through’ grabs like that a lot?”
Ghost turned her head, not that she could really look at him from this angle, but he saw her grin as she shrugged casually. “Well, y’know, it’s what stuck.”
Miles scoffed, squeezing her a bit tighter. “Stuck like you, huh? I’d love to see you slip this one.” Without any more hesitation, he let one of his hands drop to her stomach and skitter across her bare skin, and he was definitely not disappointed. She squealed and immediately started to struggle again, giggles jumping to loud laughter within a fraction of a second.
“No, no; I wasn’t ready!” She whined through her squeals.
“Oh, she’s not ready…” Miles huffed with a roll of his eyes, letting his fingers go still as he dragged his hand slowly.
“You bastard…” She spat in a giggly half-whisper.
“Ghost, be nice!” Margo called down to them.
Miles teasingly blew into her ear again, dragging his nails softly before sneaking a few squeezes on her side. “Tell me when you’re ready for tummy tickles, okay?”
She blushed, shaking her head as she whined and squeaked at each little pinch. “You’re terrible! N-No…”
“Mm-hm?” He curled his fingers and tapped them against her stomach before tracing one slowly around her bellybutton. “If I press this button, will you be ready then?”
She’d had a full-body flinch at the tracing alone, kicking against the floor as she giggled loudly. “Don’t you dare!”
“Aw, c’mon~ You have to work with me here.” Miles poked her a few more times. “You ready now~?”
“Stop teasing!” Her head tipped back on his shoulder, and she yelped when he blew across the side of her neck.
He laughed, smirking softly. “You said you weren’t ready! I do have to tell you, though…” He let his fingers walk to about where he remembered that little drawing on her skin. “You’ve had this spider on you this entire time and it hasn’t moved at—” He suddenly started scribbling his fingers, absolutely relishing in the surprised shriek it got out of her. She kicked hard, knocking them both over, but he didn’t dare let her go. She barely got a chance to protest between her squealy laughs, and Miles could hear her feet flailing against the mat under the cheers of the crowd.
“Think she’s happy we let them keep the kicks now?” Ganke asked playfully, leaning on one hand.
“Yeah, she looks like she’s having fun.” Margo snickered. Both of them flinched a little when Ghost squealed again.
“Hey, do you think he can get one?” Ganke asked with a smirk.
Margo let out a cackle. “If he gets her that bad in his initiation, she will hate him.”
Miles, meanwhile, was starting to have a little bit of pity on the poor Ghost. She seemed to have tired herself out again, having stopped kicking in favor of trying futilely to curl up. She was tough; he could admit that in a heartbeat, but, frankly, his arm was getting tired.
“I’m still wondering what this does, you know.” He mused, and the only bit of mercy he offered her was slowing his fingers down just a little as he finally focused his tickling on her bellybutton.
She absolutely lost it, breaking into loud cackles as she struggled to move her arms. “N-Not there! Please, I-I can’t—!” She squealed, snorts breaking through her laughter as her cheeks ran red. The crowd went wild with cheers and teases, and Miles was pretty sure his heart was melting.
“Tap! I tap! Let go…” She cried out through squeaks, and Miles lifted his hand away and let her go. She curled up beside him, pulling her hood up to hide her face as a few more snorts slipped into her giggles.
“Ghost is out! Make some noise!” Ganke shouted, grinning as they already clapped excitedly. Miles smirked back at him, softly rubbing one hand on Ghost’s back while she caught her breath.
“You good?” He asked quietly, trying not to tease too much. “Need a hand?”
“You’re a natural.” She whispered back, smiling a bit tiredly as she looked up at him. “But you’re not ready for Spider-Punk.”
“Wha—?” He was about to ask, but she started to get up, and he stood quickly to help her.
“And anyway,” She spoke up this time, for the others to hear. “You wouldn’t have won if you weren’t pals with the judges.”
“No, honey,” Margo called back. “You might not have lost if you didn’t run your mouth off.”
Ghost pouted, crossing her arms as she levelled a glare. “Fuck you both.” She huffed, rolling her eyes and smirking.
“Ooh, Swear Jar. Five seconds.” Ganke said quickly. Without being told, Miles grabbed at her sides. He made sure to be gentle this time, barely scribbling with his nails, but she still burst into giggly squeals as she tried to push away from him. It was definitely more like three seconds, but Miles didn’t mind giving her some grace, except for the poke he landed on her bellybutton before pulling his hands back. She didn’t snort this time, but she did punch him in the arm while she grinned at him, and he could settle for that.
“Make nice, you two, let’s get moving.” Margo insisted. Miles offered his hand to Ghost, smirking broadly when she actually hesitated to take it. He might have itched the palm of her hand with one finger when he went to shake it, and she snickered and shook her head.
“You might want to think about whether you want to stick around, because I’m getting you back.” She said softly, grinning.
“Yeah, alright, Tickle Button.” He taunted playfully, laughing as she punched his shoulder again. She squeezed his hand as she turned to do the walk, snatching her robe off of Margo’s chair and flicking the side of Ganke’s glasses.
“I’ll see you in the ring next week, asshole.” She growled with a sneer, and Ganke smirked back at her.
“That’s ten seconds, Ghost.” He chuckled, covering the microphone. “I’ll see you too.”
Her face nearly faltered, but she ruffled his hair, and the audience cheered as she walked back to the locker room.
Margo stretched her arms over her head—Ganke smirked knowingly toward Miles and the audience, but he didn’t do anything—and she shook her hands out with a sigh. “My, oh my, Mr. Lee. Our first challenger in months, and he’s tearing through us. Maybe we should have gotten back in the ring instead of letting these cute little bugs handle it.”
There were claps and murmurs from the crowd, and Miles couldn’t help but be curious about that story.
“At this rate, I think you might be right, Kitty.” Ganke sighed dramatically. “But, then again, if we destroyed him first try, we wouldn’t have anything for this great crowd!” The audience cheered, and Miles couldn’t help but clap along. “And you all really have been wonderful tonight; thank you all so much for coming out—”
“You do know we’re not done, right?” Margo asked playfully.
Ganke pulled a face and pretended to wince. “Are you sure we can’t be done now?” He groaned, resting an arm over his eyes. “You know how he gets.”
Margo smirked, thumping a rhythm on the table that the audience was quick to copy with their hands. “Ladies and Gentlemen—and, of course, our dear New Fish—I want you to give me your best!” The volume grew louder, and Miles felt tingly with the energy swelling. “It’s down to the wire; the last roundup; this one’s for all the marbles! Let’s hear it for Spider-Punk!”
The audience roared—as much as, like, twenty people could compare to a roar—and a good number of them stomped as they clapped. The locker room door opened, and, predictably, Miles saw the tall British man that had inspired his dumb stage name. He bounced a bit on his toes, smiling excitedly as he watched his approach.
Spider-Punk walked confidently, with his robe already thrown over his shoulder instead of being worn. He was also wearing a cropped shirt, funny enough, but it was underneath a battle vest covered in cool patches. He wore a pair of pajama pants too—much more obvious than Ghost’s just by the pattern—and they were cut off just below his knees. He was wearing black lipstick, which he definitely hadn’t been the first time Miles had passed him. He motioned to the crowd with one hand as he purposefully draped the robe over Margo’s head, encouraging them to get louder before he stepped onto the mat.
“Well, well, well…” He practically purred, and Miles felt like a shock ran through him. “Big fish in a small pond, aren’t ya?”
Miles’ eyes lit up, and his hands flapped a bit as his brain failed to process a response.
“You’re doing the thing.” His opponent half-whispered to him, gesturing to his hands, and Miles flinched just a bit nervously. Spider-Punk grinned, chuckling. “Not sayin’ you should stop, love. Ghost’ll get you wound up like that, she’s pretty fun.”
Miles let himself giggle at that and nodded. “I mean, yeah, she’s pretty cool for a ghost.” He said coolly. “Shrieks like one, too.”
Spider-Punk snorted, shaking his head as he smirked. “Fair play, fair play.”
Miles crossed his arms as they started to circle each other. “So, turns out you actually were the final boss, huh? What was that about me not lasting a minute?”
“Oh, you remember that, eh?” He laughed just a bit mockingly, his eyes scanning over Miles before his grin somehow grew even more smug. “I still stand by it.” He asserted with a shrug, resting his hands on his hips.
Miles scoffed, mimicking his little pose and rolling his eyes. “You really want to say that when you know I just wrecked two of your friends?”
Spider-Punk suddenly broke from his path, walking straight toward Miles and spooking him into a half stumble. “Do you really want to ask that when you don't know why they saved me for last?” He reached out quickly to grab Miles by his shirt to stop him from falling, pulling him sharply into a tight hug. Miles flailed slightly, bringing his hands to rest on his opponent’s arms where they squeezed softly around his neck. His own arms were completely free, but his brain also might have been overheating. He could hear the sneer in Spider-Punk’s voice when it tickled his ear. “Your freckles pop up when you blush~”
Miles fell into squeaky giggles, pulling at Spider-Punk’s arms as best he could, and his opponent only hummed casually at the effort, rolling his eyes as he rested his chin on Miles’ head and scribbled gently at his shoulders. Miles quickly switched tactics, digging his fingers into the punk’s armpits. The taller man flinched pretty hard, half a snort slipping out as he let himself laugh. Or, actually, he kind of giggled. It was rough and bass-sounding, almost scratchy, like he was just barely resisting. The crowd behind him murmured softly.
“Oh, not this again.” Miles chuckled teasingly, keeping his voice mostly low this time. “You just want to get tickles, tough guy?” He squirmed just a bit when long fingers trailed down the center of his back.
“Wouldn’t you like to kn—” Spider-Punk’s voice hitched on a louder laugh when Miles dropped his hands to scribble on bare skin and squeeze his sides, and he flinched backwards when Miles pressed his thumbs against his hipbones. Miles grinned a bit smugly as the punk stepped back, and he crossed his arms as he stepped forward.
“I wouldn’t have thought someone so cool would be so cute when he gets a few little scratches.” He taunted before faking a pout. “I expected more fight out of you though, punk.”
Spider-Punk chuckled lightly, making a bit of a show in slightly covering his sides. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?” He teased right back, setting his chin on one hand and batting his eyes. His nail polish matched his lipstick perfectly. “You should watch yourself though~ Could be in bigger trouble than you think.”
Miles laughed, cracking his knuckles. “Well, the bigger they are…”
“That doesn’t even work for—” Spider-Punk didn’t put up much resistance when Miles hooked his arm and more or less dragged him to the floor, and he laughed brightly Miles tickled across his stomach.
“Ooh, he’s got him on the ropes, huh~?” Margo asked playfully, nudging Ganke with her elbow.
Ganke shot her a sideways glance, pout set on his lips. “Shut up.” He huffed with a chuckle, and she laughed.
Miles’ focus was stuck on Spider-Punk, his grin turning more playful as he let his fingers skitter lightly on his opponent’s back and relished the giggles it brought out of him. He had pulled Spider-Punk’s arm across his shoulders, clutching his wrist in his left hand while he tickled along his back and opposite side.
“Y’know, ‘Spider-Punk’…” Miles mused softly. “If Claw had told me that I’d just be thrown into a fake tournament to tease a bunch of adorable lees to death, I probably wouldn’t have even believed him. I’d say I’m disappointed, but it’s been pretty fun.”
The punk huffed out a laugh, sounding much more derisive than ticklish all of a sudden. “Is that what you think?”
Without any warning, Spider-Punk shifted the hand in Miles’ grip, his fingers managing to scratch along his ribcage and chip some startled giggles out of him. His other hand shot to dig into Miles’ side, completely exposed with how his arm was wrapped around the punk’s back. Miles yelped, immediately letting go of the wrist he held to flee; his opponent snickered, keeping his arm hooked across Miles’ shoulders and holding him close as he pulled some squeaky laughs from his side.
“And there it is.” Ganke fake-pouted as the audience started to get riled up. “Every time with this one.”
Margo was absolutely ecstatic, giggling brightly as she leaned on his shoulder. “If it ain’t broke, y’know? Maybe you should have warned him~”
Miles laughed and tried to flail, but the tickles he landed on the punk’s ribs were hardly distracting him. Instead, Spider-Punk leaned back, pulling his arm from around Miles’ shoulder while his other hand shoved him down to the mat. He was strong. Like, way stronger than Miles expected. When Miles tried to grab at his arm and pull, he couldn’t move an inch, and he wasn’t even sure if Spider-Punk was using his full weight. The giddy sort of panic must have shown in his eyes, because the taller man sneered as he loomed over him.
“Caught in a web, poor thing.” He taunted as he locked his knees around Miles’ legs, ruffling his hair with his free hand before leaning close. “You got a lot to learn, New Fish. For example…” He took a deep breath, and Miles didn’t even get time to panic before he was squealing with laughter as a loud raspberry was blown into the crook of his neck. His legs tried to kick, but his opponent gave him zero leeway. It didn’t help at all when he tried to push him away, only to get scribbling fingers in both of his armpits as another raspberry hit him.
Miles might have broken a little under all that; sue him.
“Oh, yeah, he’s dead.” Margo snickered as their challenger shrieked and writhed under Spider-Punk’s hold.
“Yeah…” Ganke admitted, but he glanced at Margo with a smirk. “You would know though, wouldn’t you? You have a thing or two in common with him.” He snuck a poke just under her arm, and she nearly whacked him with her microphone with how hard she flinched.
Miles, meanwhile, was trying his best to be tough, his hands gripping Spider-Punk’s sleeves to keep from flailing. Those long fingers drilled right into the center of his hollows, and his head fell back against the mat as he cackled. Spider-Punk chuckled over him, finally pulling away from his neck to whisper in his ear again.
“So, who’s the adorable little lee here again, bruv~? You talk so big, but I break brats like you.”
Miles tried to shove the punk’s face, earning some faster scribbles whenever his arms moved an inch. Spider-Punk sneered and pulled one of his hands back, catching Miles’ wrist and blowing another raspberry against his palm. His reaction was much squeakier than attacks on his weak spots, but Miles more or less collapsed in a slight daze. The punk slowly lifted his hands, chuckling a bit deviously as the poor fish tried to catch his breath.
“I’ll give it to ya, mate; you’re a tough one.” Spider-Punk taunted, slipping his hand into his pocket. “Or you’re a hypocrite. Hopin’ it’s the former, since a funny thing happens to hypocrites around here~” He drew his hand back up, and it was covered by a strange-looking glove.
“Oh, Murder Claw!” Margo shouted, and the audience went wild.
“You actual cheating bastard!” Ganke scolded with a grin. “I told you not to bring that!”
“Murder Claw! Murder Claw!” Half of the audience chanted with Margo leading on her mic.
“Margo, don’t encourage this!”
She elbowed him teasingly before playfully punching his side. “Aw, c’mon, Tiger, where’s that Panther blood?!”
“We're supposed to be behaving!” Ganke couldn't help but laugh as the energy swelled.
Miles watched nervously as Spider-Punk wound a little dial on the wrist of the glove. Something about the sound of the mechanism clicking felt…familiar. Coiling springs? It all happened within a few seconds; Miles tried to grab Spider-Punk’s sleeve, only for him to snatch his wrist and pin it firmly over his head. The pure mischief on his face was going to kill Miles before his hands did.
“Go on and give ‘em a show, lovely.” He whispered, showing off the glove on his hand before pressing one of the fingers to the side of Miles’ neck. He felt a sort of click, instantly followed by rapid vibrations that had him nearly screeching. It was barely more than two seconds, but it was almost worse than the raspberries. When the four other fingers pressed into his armpit all at the same time, Miles knew it was over. Quick as it was, that buzzing sensation had him hysterical, and his free hand flailed against the mat as he tried to writhe.
“The Fish is cooked! It’s all over!” Margo shouted over the roar of the crowd.
Spider-Punk gave him another smirk and a cheeky-bastard wink before pushing himself onto his feet, except Miles caught him gently by his wrist.
“That…was definitely more than a minute.” Miles said softly through quiet breaths.
Spider-Punk seemed to light up, barely stifling an incredulous laugh. “You don’t quit! I like it.” He said softly, taking Miles’ hand in a quick handshake before letting it fall. He grinned smugly as Margo ran to his side and hugged him with one arm.
“Your reigning champion, folks!” She called out to the audience. “Give it up for Spider-Punk!” The tall man raised his hands dramatically as the crowd clapped excitedly, seeming to relish in the attention as they started to get up and talk to him and each other.
Miles was content to stay on the mat for a moment with his tired giggles, and Ganke approached to offer him a hand. He might have gotten a little dizzy when he was heaved to stand up, but he played it off with a smirk. Ganke ruffled his hair and snuck a tickle behind his ear, and Miles shouldered him playfully as he went to do his walk of shame. But Ganke grabbed him by his shirt, pointing him toward the locker room door that his opponents had been entering from. Miles glanced at him for confirmation, getting a quick nod and a shooing motion before Ganke went to stand beside Spider-Punk.
“What a freakin’ upset, huh?” Margo said teasingly, leaning to look at Ganke.
“Yeah, I’m upset!” He insisted exaggeratedly, shaking his head as Spider-Punk hugged him to his side. “Should have known you’d let him cheat again.”
Margo laughed right back. “Well, since you want to be boring all of a sudden, and the crew’s on leave, someone has to keep up the Panther vibe, yeah?!”
--------------
Miles let them and the crowd’s chatter fade behind him as he entered the locker room. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It wasn’t even any different from the first one. Except, well, this one had a ghost leaning in from the door leading to the hallway. She quickly motioned him to follow her, holding the door open before jogging away.
They wound up at a meeting room upstairs, where Sona opened the door after they knocked.
“Told you so.” Ghost said playfully as they entered the room, and Miles rolled his eyes as Sona laughed. There were six pizza boxes on the tables in the back and a cooler stashed underneath next to what he assumed were their bags and things.
“He cheated, didn’t he?” Sona asked once the door was closed, playfully nudging Miles with his elbow.
“Is it really cheating when we know he’s going to do it though?” Ghost rummaged in the cooler for a juice pouch before also snatching a half-finished water bottle from the edge of the table.
“I feel kind of cheated.” Miles said with a shrug, crossing his arms.
The pair of them looked at him with wary expectation, seemingly worried about him.
“I mean, I had a whole fight with you—” He looked pointedly as Ghost. “—And I didn’t even know raspberries were legal. Seems unfair to me.”
He let a taunting grin spread across his lips as Ghost glared at him with a rising blush. Sona had burst out laughing, patting him on his shoulder.
“I really hope you stick around, Fish; you’re hilarious.” He giggled.
“Yeah, you’ll be laughing, all right.” Ghost pouted for a moment, but she started to laugh along with Sona.
“Oh, that reminds me!” Sona stood in front of him, resting his hands on his hips as if he was a superhero or something. “My name is Pavitr. Forgive me if it’s forward, but you’re Miles, right? It’s so cool to finally meet you!”
Miles was a little surprised, but he quickly realized what had happened. “I take it Ganke talks about me a lot?” He asked with a chuckle.
“Oh, definitely.” Ghost nodded, smiling as she leaned slightly on the circular table in the middle of the room. “And somehow, he neglected to mention that you’re a five-alarm tease.”
“Well, time and place, y’know.” He shrugged, chuckling. “Although, I guess I haven’t teased him in a while~”
“You are something else.” Ghost said, playfully flinging the now empty water bottle at Miles’ head before offering a handshake. “I’m Gwen, by the way.”
Miles accepted it without any mischief this time, and she smiled much more genuinely this time. Pavitr approached him from the side, pressing a cold bottle of water against his arm and giggling as he snatched it from him.
“You can grab a plate, by the way.” He offered, opening his own water bottle to take a drink. “We kind of got them for you. Oh, except those two big ones on the end.”
“Oh, yeah?” Miles chuckled, as if he hadn’t been eying the table since he’d walked in. Of course, he had to have been raised to never take the first plate.
Gwen nodded, pushing herself up to sit on the table. “We haven’t had a tournament in a long time, and it’s been even longer since we had a new challenger. We’re celebrating a little, and since somebody didn’t win, it’s more a little party for all of us.”
“You really do snark a lot for someone in a crop top.” Miles grinned and shook his head.
“Maybe, but at least I’m not the one with spider bites on my neck.” She taunted, and Miles could feel his face heating up as he realized what she meant. She laughed teasingly as he covered the side of his neck with one hand.
The door opened suddenly, and a very loud Spider-Punk burst in with Ganke, Margo, and a couple of faces from the audience in tow. “Oi, oi, what’s up, losers?!”
Gwen sighed loudly. “There goes the neighborhood.” She rolled her eyes and smirked as he approached her first.
“Love you too, Gwendy~” He said playfully, ruffling her hair as he leaned to kiss her forehead. His smile widened as he spotted Miles, and he strode up to him like he could definitely tell Miles’ head was spinning. “You stuck around, huh?” He offered his hand and that stupid wink. “Hobie Brown, at ya service, love.”
Accepting the handshake was apparently the wrong decision, because it ended in Miles being yanked into a tight hug as Hobie laughed a bit mockingly. He wasn’t even doing anything, but Miles couldn’t help laughing with him and trying to squirm away, only for Pavitr and Gwen to pile on the two of them.
Ganke had placed Miles’ shoes and things under the table with the others’ stuff, and Margo had done the same with their boombox and microphones. She grabbed the two set-aside pizza boxes, handing them over to the theater club members along with heaps of gratitude for their presence. They happily accepted both before waving to all of them as they left. As soon as they did, the pair of former hosts turned to the interesting little hug-fight their four friends had gotten into.
“Guys!” Margo called, managing to get their attention. “You were all fantastic out there! Miles, they loved you! Hell, we loved you!” She stepped forward, and Hobie let Miles go so she could grab onto his hands excitedly as she spoke. “I wasn’t even kidding, Ganke, where on Earth were you hiding this one?!”
Ganke shrugged, crossing his arms. “What can I say? I like to have an ace or two up my sleeve.” He said with a smirk. “It has been a while since I’ve seen you go all out like that though, hasn’t it?”
Miles grinned a bit proudly. “You know I like to make a good first impression.”
“I have literally never heard that about you, but go off, I guess.”
Miles pouted a bit as the others laughed.
Within minutes, they were all around the circular table, plates piled with pizza slices and cracking soda cans. Miles leaned on his hand to look Ganke in the eye.
“So, how long has this been going on anyway?” He asked, just a bit incredulously. “You never mentioned it while I was gone.”
Ganke nearly glared at him halfway through a bite of pizza. “I told you I made some new friends after you left! And I definitely remember telling you I joined a club.”
“Yeah, and I thought you meant a robotics club or something, not, like, tickle tournaments! You didn’t think I’d be interested in that part?”
Ganke chuckled. “It’s not that I didn’t think you'd be interested.” He set down the slice and leveled a sneer at him. “I just know you get weak around too many cute people.”
Miles nearly choked on the sip of water he’d taken, and he could feel eyes on him as the table got quiet. They were all smiling, some more smugly than others, and Miles buried his face in his hands.
“Asshole…” He groaned, only to flinch a little when Gwen poked his cheek. He glanced at her, and she giggled, and Hobie smirked, and Pavitr grinned.
“Especially cute lees~” Ganke whispered, blowing across the side of his neck, and he barely stopped himself from jumping out of the chair. The others stifled laughter as Miles felt like he was going to melt from the heat rushing to his face, which he promptly dropped into his arms on the table.
“You’re all rosy, mate.” Yeah, like Hobie really needed to tell him that.
He recognized Ganke’s hand patting him on the back. “Sooo~?”
“’M free on Friday…?” He offered.
“We’ve got an Initiation Day!” Ganke shook him by the shoulder as the whole table cheered, and Miles felt himself smiling as hands ruffled his hair and pat his back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Panda's Extra Notes: Some minor things for consideration.
*I might go back and retcon it, but I'm considering using one of Hobie's beta designs for this AU. Specifically the one with his long braids.
*Miles falls under the Ace umbrella here, hence the joke Ganke makes toward the end. He is very vulnerable to "tickle-crushes", though. And actual crushes, obviously, but we'll get to that later. >w<
Merry New Year and Happy Squealing Santa 2023 for @alexielve :D sorry it’s so late😭
Image ID:
A digital illustration depicting Miles Morales, Peter B Parker, and Mayday Parker from Into The SpiderVerse. Miles is suspended upside down from his webs. Peter is on the right, and Mayday is strapped to Peter by a baby carrier. Peter is tickling Miles on the armpit and Mayday on her foot while calling a friend explaining how he is tickling them to “teach them a lesson”. (Not shown) Miles and Mayday were bothering Peter repeatedly for attention so Peter retaliated. Miles is suspended in the air in hysterics trying to apologize to Peter through his laughter. And Mayday is giggling as her father tickles her foot.
Image Caption:
Peter: “Oh yeah don’t mix the kids, had to teach em a lesson.”
