No Running Away
(Inspired by all the ticklish!Pietro talk on thebest-medicineâs blog. I am really sorry if the characters are OOC, but I couldnât decide which versions of them to use, or how theyâd act in this scenario, so I pretty much improvised. This is my first X-Men fic, so I hope itâs alright!)
This wasnât right! This wasnât happening! She did not manage to get the drop on him! How could she have? No one ever got the drop on him! He was too smart for this! He was too quick for this! How the hell did this happen?!
All these thoughts and more buzzed through the Pietroâs head, but unfortunately for him, none could get him out of his current predicament.
What predicament was that, you ask?
That predicament was being held in the air, upside-down no less, by a grinning Jean Grey.
Taking full advantage of her telekinetic abilities, sheâd lifted him off the ground by his legs before he could speed away as usual. Now here he was, dangling in midair as she eyed him smugly from just out of armâs reach. It was really pissing him off.
âAlright, seriously, this isnât funny! Put me down!â He waved his arms and jerked his torso this way and that, as sheâd been smart enough to keep his legs immobile.
Jeanâs grin widened at Pietroâs feeble motions, just barely keeping herself from cracking up at the hilarious sight of the speedster flailing a good foot above the floor. As Jean just stood there, entertained by the situation, Pietro continued to demand she let her go, irritation only seeming to grow with each passing second.
If he really thought she was going to listen to him, then he had another thing coming. This was too good not to take advantage of. and who knew if sheâd ever manage to catch him again.
Waving a hand, Jean cut Pietro off mid-rant to bring him closer to her, at the same time pinning his arms to his sides to make sure he didnât try and hit her. At the feeling of being moved, Pietro reflexively stopped talking, though he immediately resumed glaring at the other mutant from his new position.
âLet me tell you whatâs going to happen,â Jean began to speak. âFirst of all, Iâm not letting you go. Not yet, at least.â She ignored the scowl Pietro shot her. âSecond, I think you need to be taken down a few pegs. I donât know if anyoneâs already told you, but your attitude could really use some work.â Pietro rolled his eyes, perhaps with more exaggeration than necessary. âAnd third, since Iâm the one that caught you, Iâll be the one to teach you some manners.â
Pietro scoffed in disbelief. âAnd how are you going to do that?â
Thatâs when he felt it. A small tingling sensation starting at his sides. It feltâŚlike there were fingers there, lightly caressing the skin that had been exposed by his shirt. Thanks to his inverted arrangement, the hem of his top had slid down to the bottom of his rib cage earlier, leaving most of his torso bare.
Startled by the strange feeling, Pietro glanced at Jean, only to see her smirking at him from a foot away. She wasnât touching him, though, so that had to meanâŚ
Pietro inhaled sharply as the tingling began to intensify, the invisible fingers skittering up and down his sides, making him begin to squirm. He then felt nails start scratching against his stomach and bit his lip in a stubborn attempt to keep quiet.
It was pointless, of course. Jean could clearly see that he was holding back.
âTicklish, Pietro?â
He adamantly shook his head, though a blush had begun to form on his cheeks.
Jean chuckled. âGuess you wonât mind if I do this, then.â
He had a split second to wonder what she meant, before she attacked.
What had been light tickling before suddenly increased in speed and ferocity. The nonexistent fingers at his sides dug in ruthlessly, and the nails moving over his belly picked up speed. It was enough to finally crack the silver-haired mutant.
âNononononahahahahaha!â
Unwillingly, Pietro burst out in laughter, shaking his head from side to side as the torment continued.
âStohohop! Gahahahaha! L-let Mehehe gohohaha!â
âItâs cute how you think youâre in any position to be giving orders. Maybe I should try something elseâŚâ
While the imagined hands on his torso continued, a new sensation of something circling his navel had developed. This one was soft, unbearably so, and very, very fluffy. A feather? Pietro instinctively looked towards his belly, but there was nothing to be seen. He never even knew she could do this!
The âfeatherâ traced the rim of his navel for another second, before darting to brush against the hypersensitive flesh inside. That was enough to earn an unexpected squeal from the mutant, who promptly broke into a fit of rather embarrassing giggles that almost caused Jean to drop him, letting out a laugh herself.
âAhahahAHAHAHahah! ShitshitshiHIHIT! StahahHAHAP! NAHAhahaHAHA!â
Pietroâs body was visibly trembling as he struggled against Jeanâs hold on him, eyes clenched tightly shut as he desperately willed himself to move.
However, Jean simply focused her powers more, not about to just let him escape. "Hate to tell you, but even you canât run away from this one.â
The torture went on for quite some time, with Jean shifting the tickling from Pietroâs sides and stomach up to his ribs and under his arms. She made sure to get every space between the rib bones and tease every inch of his hollows, making him cackle and shriek with mirth. She kept the sensation of the feather concentrated within his navel the entire time, as it appeared to be the worst spot on his upperbody.
When Jean finally stopped to give Pietro a breather, his face was beet red, both from laughter and from all the blood rushing to his head after spending so long upside-down. Mercifully, she flipped him over to float right-side up, relieving some of his discomfort, though still carefully keeping his feet off the floor.
Pietro took less than a minute to compose himself.
âAre you done yet?â he demanded.
Jean appeared thoughtful as she looked over him, taking in his still red face and watery eyes. She was beginning to feel bad for him and was tempted to let him goâŚ.butâŚ.
The not-so-nice thoughts he was aiming at her was just enough to convince her what to do next.
âSorry, but no,â she shrugged, not looking apologetic at all.
âWhy you-â
Whatever he was about to say was cut off by further laughter as the tickling picked up again.
