Tickle Fic - Tumblr Posts

Biased Penalty

Summary; Miguel uses taking a break to get you in his office, knowing you'd want to help. He sets you up for failure with intentional to punish you for your shortcomings and ease his urges to dig his claws into someone.

Miguel x Reader Tickle fic. Written in second person.

Getting called into the office was a significantly different experience to you than it was any other Spider Person. Whereas they would face scolding of some sort, harsh reminders if they messed up, Miguel never had an issue with you. It wasn't just that you were a particularly skilled Spider, no, he'd grown to find you a reliable source of support thanks to your rather stubborn insistence on looking out for him despite his rejections. Making sure he was taking breaks, resting, and eating regularly. Your consistent visits made you a more comfortable presence than most. That's why, on this rare occasion where he chose to have a break without being pushed to, you were who he settled on to take up the workload. Even if just to see how well you'd handle it... But, more importantly, on the off chance you couldn't handle it, Miguel had something planned. He has certain urges thanks to the Spider DNA that would distract him from work. While he had yet to succumb to them using you in particular, he was growing all too tempted to.

Walking in was fairly standard. His platform slowly descended as you entered, giving you a moment to pause and study Miguel's large and rigid form. The tension was hardly a rare sight, but it concerned you all the same.

"Not in trouble, am I? Did I bring you a bad meal, annoy you with rest requests too often?"

Miguel's head moved up at the sound of your voice. He didn't respond, waiting for the platform to come to a stop.

A sudden use of his webbing made you jump. He pulled up a chair from god knows where, and for a moment you worried he'd throw it at you. He dropped it heavily beside him instead, turning to look at you. There was a long pause before he repeated his prior action- on you.

You couldn't help but yelp when his webbing snapped around your waist. It pulled you off the spot you previously stood clean and swiftly. Your eyes were wide as you landed right in front of Miguel, his hand already on your shoulder to steady you. God, his hand was so warm.

"H-heeeyy there-!"

You cringed a little at how blatantly obvious the nervousness was in your voice. Miguel stared at you for a moment longer, those scarlet eyes so intense it felt as if he were laying your soul bare to judge. He removed the webbing from your waist, moving to sit in his chair.

"Against my better judgement, I'm taking a break. I need someone to monitor everything while I do so. I'll be judging how well you do."

Ah. A test of some sorts? The thought of being his stand in was actually quite thrilling, for a variety of reasons. It meant you would have way more opportunity and reason to get the guy to rest, he'd be more inclined to knowing the multiverse was still in safe hands AND you could potentially spend more time with him. Peer reviews are important, after all! You nodded, stepping in front of him to look at the screens already set out.

"Right… What should I do?"

It didn't take that much explanation for you to get the hang of it. You'd seen Miguel fiddling with these screens enough times to already know how to manipulate them. The layout did take a little getting used to, seeing as the screens could go at any angle in any reachable space, but soon enough you have several screens up to watch the current happenings in the multiverse. There were quite a few anomaly fights taking place, you watched each and carefully tracked the methods and efficiency of each Spider involved into account. It wasn't easy keeping track of each one, but you managed by taking down quick notes for Miguel to easily view later. It was important that anomalies not only get caught, but get caught relatively undamaged.

Miguel watched you the entire time. He was impressed by how quickly you took to it, like a spider to weaving a web. He didn't say this, of course, opting for silence. Watching you work definitely made him hopeful about this option. You never failed him, no matter the effort it took for you, always proving your place as one of his best. But at the same time... He craved for you to slip up, to give him an excuse to cave to his urge to dig his claws into your flesh.

He wasn't one for inactivity. While he kept his nails unsheathed, his fingers tapped away against the arm of his chair. His eyes were on your hands at first, watching your actions, then at your face to judge the concentrated look you had, then they soon moved down to study your form. You had good posture, leaning from one foot to another when reaching for different screens. His fingers dug into the chair of the arm as you lifted one arm high up, exposing your side, ribs, underarm so blatantly. A strong urge to latch a hand onto the vulnerable side gripped Miguel but he held off.

You were busy, after all…

Then again. It wasn't uncommon for the room to be invaded by certain Spiders. Peter was a repeat offender, Jesse had her moments in distracting Miguel, and that little group of spiderlings were the worst with it considering they're usually there with intention to annoy Miguel into coming away from his work. It hardly helped that Miles had a bone to pick with him, and he had to be easy on that kid or else receive an irritatingly long, stern talking to from Peter.

"Insufribles mierdecillas…"

He mumbled softly. You glanced back, not quite hearing what he said but knowing he said something. He didn't repeat himself, sending you an intense stare that made a shiver creep up your back. You didn't dare actually shiver.

"Don't get distracted."

The words were firm, and you quickly snapped your head back to the screens to carry on. You'd gotten into the swing of it, even if you did have to periodically look up which Spider Person was which to have accurate notes. So many recruits to remember, how did Miguel memorise them all…

Miguel shifted in his seat. You were good at getting back into it when distracted momentarily, but the fact you looked back at such a minor thing was concerning. Training that out of you would be beneficial. And a good excuse. Miguel sat up straight in his chair, pulling up some controls.

You stepped back as everything shrank down, concerned that you'd touched something you shouldn't have. Two hands on your waist made you tense up, especially when they pulled you back.

When you were tugged into Miguel's lap, his arms wrapping around you securely, your mind fizzled and blanked. Your eyes were wide with shock, heart beating fast.

"Calm down. I'm testing you."

Right. A test. Right, that makes sense. Miguel fiddled with the controls again, making sure everything was still in your reach. You watched as the screens shifted. You couldn't ignore how warm he was, that arm still around you pressed so firmly. You had to take a breath, letting it out slowly to relax and focus on what you needed to.

"You'll be faced with different distractions when working. If not pop ups notifying you of sudden changes in plans or issues becoming present, then by certain people getting a kick out of irritating you. I'll be mimicking the latter. Don't let me get to you, stay focused."

"Ok… I'll do my best."

How were you going to stand this? You were already a bit freaked out by the fact Miguel had pulled you into his lap. He didn't exactly seem the touchy type; this was completely unexpected.

Still, you were never one to disappoint. He'd given you his orders, you were going to follow them.

You went back to work, scrolling through videos and images, noting down important details, monitoring and recording the necessary information.

Miguel let out a sigh, his warm breath hitting your neck and causing goosebumps. You repressed a shiver, eyes fixed on those screens, focusing as hard as you could on catching crucial details. That's exactly why you didn't notice his hands moving, shifting so they were placed on your sides. Those fingertips suddenly grazing up your sides made you tense up and yelp, arms coming down to protect yourself.

"Ten cuidado. Reaccionar sólo me anima. If you give away that what I'm doing is affecting you… It will get worse."

This time you couldn't repress a shiver. He was whispering right in your ear, how could you hide from that? Miguel's hands came forward, your eyes darting between them as his claws unsheathed. Seeing him flex his fingers made tingles erupt across your skin.

They sheathed once again before his hands returned to your sides. You hesitated to continue, knowing Miguel would do it again the moment you raised your arms. He let out a breath, hinting that he wasn't going to be patient. You slowly raise your arms, forcing your attention back onto the screens.

He barely gave you a moment to get back into it. His fingers traced over your stomach, tiny lines of tingles following their wake. Your eyes flicked from screen to screen in a manner more erratic than before, hoping to god you could hold in any reactions. You were hardly as stoic as the man who was tormenting you right now. You remained tense, letting out soft breaths to get some release from the urge to laugh. Control your breathing, carry on.

It became harder when his hands slowly drifted upward, exploring, a slight scratch from each finger as he moved to your lowest ribs. He lingered there, seemingly hoping to find a sweet spot. You had to press your lips together not to smile. You closed your eyes for a moment, hands hanging in the air. Miguel's nails dug in slightly as he noticed you pausing. A warning, a further distraction? You gritted your teeth, forcing your eyes back open, practically glaring at the screens as you persisted. While he lightened up he, too, persisted, fingers dragging up along your ribs.

You made a few spelling errors as those fingers brushed across your ribs, easily finding the sections between them thanks to your skin tight suit. Ugh, why did skin tight suits have to be a staple of heroes?! Your hand shook as you corrected your errors, eyes flicking between videos as you did. You wrote more than before, a compensation for how a wobbly smile was forming on your face, how you couldn't help but divide your attention with those surprisingly skilled hands.

Miguel had been monitoring you the entire time. He'd turn his head to see your expression in the reflection of the screens, watched as you twitched and breathed deeper and tensed under his fingertips. It was almost addictive to him. The anticipation was getting to him; he was going to break you eventually. Granted, you lasted longer than he expected… It made it all the more fun, though.

His hands moved once again. One slipped up to scratch softly against your armpit, the other tracing over your collarbone. Oh, god, they were going to different spots, now. You had to grit your teeth and ball up one hand just to stop a giggle from escaping. As those fingertips travelled up your neck, however, grazing far lore sensitive skin, you faltered.

One giggle. One sign of weakness. That was all the excuse Miguel needed.

"Oh, estás tan jodido…"

He growled in your ear as the claws came out. He was still gentle around your neck, but the pinpoint sharpness of those claws made it excruciatingly ticklish. Where you may have been able to recover, he didn't let you. The scratching at your underarm was much rougher now, sending spikes of sensitive sensations that made you burst into laughter, all while the gentle tickling at your neck made you tilt your head and scrunch up. A soft yet sadistic chuckle made those butterflies burst in your stomach, made you react without thinking.

You pushed back, a hand going to his chest to shove yourself off of him. He swiped at you, catching your wrist just as you were about to back off.

"Where do you think you're going? You failed. That warrants a penalty."

Despite how playful he was acting he never dropped the serious tone. He stood, towering over you, grabbing onto your waist once more. You hardly had a chance as he swiftly threw you into the chair, grabbing it to pull you close to him. You barely had a chance to shift into a more comfortable position before he pressed a leg against you, pinning you in place easily.

"W-wait, give mehe another chance-!"

"Hmm… No. Estás condenado, pobrecito."

You hardly had a moment to register what he said before those claws got to you. With all the build up of tension your defences were down. You reacted as soon as you felt the maddening scrape of talons against your sides, grabbing at Miguel's wrists as you squealed. Laughter was quick to follow, your straining to push Miguel's hands away doing little to nothing to stop him.

Still, it was annoying. Miguel paused for a mere moment to push his hands together. Red webbing suddenly flicked out, wrapping around your wrists. You gasped but had no chance to protest. He'd already pulled his hands out of your grip, and he took out his frustrations at your pitiful struggle by going straight for your underarms. A sly grin spread on Miguel's face as you let out a shriek, the laughter flowing out fast and frantic like rocky rapids. He could swim in that sound for ages, the satisfaction of pulling such a reaction from someone was unmatched. He kept flexing his fingers, even as you clamped your arms down and tried to prevent the movement.

"Stop struggling. You'll only make it worse for yourself."

His tone was just as lacking in emotions as it always was. Firm and matter of fact. But there was an air of smugness to it, Miguel was using his stern facade to mess with you. You couldn't help but squirm from his claws, rocking in a desperate bid to get them away from your armpits. They remained stuck there, though, pulling your laughter from you with twitching claws.

That was until Miguel pulled them down, raking them across your ribs. You jolted, frantic yelps and squeaks peppering your laughter. You could have sworn you heard Miguel chuckling. His talons continued downwards, fingers flexing as they ended up at your sides. Unfortunately for you, with Miguel's leg pinning you down in place your squirming was far less efficient. You pushed against him, trying to buck, to shift your weight, do anything. He was too strong compared to you. You were stuck and at his mercy- or lack thereof.

"Did you not hear me? Must I repeat myself? Stop struggling."

He leaned in closer, now hissing in your ear. His voice took a more vicious tone, like he was growing frustrated at your incessant squirming. Much the opposite, really, he couldn't get enough of how reactive you were.

When he was pondering potential victims, no one else seemed to fit right. Peter, while quite amusing to make scream himself, had that annoying habit of trying to start a fight unless he's completely restrained. Not to mention he had Mayday with him the majority of the time, and she'd started learning how to assist Peter in that. No go, Miguel didn't want someone with the nerves to fight. Jesse was out of question, considering she'd rather fling Miguel across the room than entertain him. Understandable, she's every right to defend herself. Scarlet Spider was too dramatic, the novelty wore off fast, Miguel got tired of him quickly. And those damn spiderlings, as easy as they are to pick on, make a concerningly efficient team. Miguel hardly needed to give them more reason to mess with him...

He'd gone through several recruits before he saw you. You were a risk: he'd never done something like this to you. And yet, your incessant habit of trying to help him, your repetitive offers to fetch him food or drink, reminders to rest (like he listened to them), your eagerness for extra assignments… You had made it very clear you wanted to be reliable to him, someone he counted on. And while this is hardly an emergency, if he could have someone to count on letting him dig their claws into their flesh when he needed that specific stimulation he wouldn't hesitate to take that opportunity. You asked for this, really. Unknowingly, yes, but it was your fault, somehow. That's what Miguel was deciding. If you were so stubborn about supporting him, you can support him by letting him take such urges out on you.

It was while his hands slowly moved forward, claws dragging to your stomach, that he snarled at you. You had blocked his hands with your own, even if they were restrained. In desperation, you had shot his wrists with your own web and pulled your arms up, using your spider strength to keep him at bay.

"Three times is far too many. I've already warned you. You asked for this."

He moved quickly, easily ripping apart your webbing. Hand on your shoulder, he lunged forward. You gasped as you felt his teeth against your neck, the points of his fangs digging in just enough to pierce the skin. You could feel it course through you, that venom. He didn't give you a full dose, not wanting to completely incapacitate you, but he gave you enough to weaken you significantly. Your arms dropped to your lap limpy, your head falling back against the seat and only exposing your neck further. You grunted when you tried lifting them, tried moving your head, realising what he'd done. It wasn't impossible but it was difficult, very difficult, like all your strength had been drained.

The tongue against your wound was hardly expected. Maybe it was a habit for him to clean it… Either way, it made you shudder. As did his teeth continuing to brush over your neck, his pointed fangs turning out to be horribly ticklish when scraped across your skin. The fact you couldn't lift your head easily meant he had free reign over your neck. You spluttered and giggled, body refusing to adhere to your urges to squirm.

It couldn't have been better for Miguel. Not only was he getting to satisfy his need to claw into something, but that ever present itch to bite into something was also satiated. There was truly nothing better than the feel of warm skin under his fangs. Honestly, you were spoiling him right now. He couldn't have been more content.

With you unable to push his hands away now, Miguel snuck them under your arms and started to claw at your stomach. Game over.

Your giggles were quick to descend into frantic, near hysterical laughter. He wasn't even scratching that hard. Sure he was definitely being far more rough than before but it wasn't completely merciless.... Those pointed talons were maddeningly efficient against the soft, sensitive flesh. No urge to jolt away was listened to, all you could do was laugh. Miguel let out a purr, something that made your fast beating heart skip a beat.

"I didn't think you'd be so weak to this... You come off as far more sturdy than you really are. Maybe it's the confidence... Look at you, hysterical merely at some claws. You'd be a goner if I really dug in. You'd choke on your own laughter."

His taunting was something else. He whispered it in a nearly tender tone despite the quite mean spirited and threatening comments. It made your brain fizzle a bit, as if you could think straight anyway. If your face wasn't already glowing from all the struggling and laughter, those words would have easily sent you into the deeper hues of red. A whine pushed its way up your throat, through your laughter, your silence finally broken.

"This isn't fair-!"

Miguel paused at that. His claws stilled, giving you a moment to recover, to catch your breath as your hysterics faded to giddy, nervous giggles.

"It's not fair? Are you implying that I, of all people, would do something unjust?"

Miguel leaned in close, one hand raised to tilt your head and force you to look at him. There was a predatory look in his blazing red eyes that made you feel like jelly.

"What's unjust about this? This is a punishment for your inability to perform. You failed the opportunity I so generously gave to you. And then you had the gall to resist, despite my many warnings, instead of taking it like you should. Is that unjust? Should I have just… Let you go?"

You hesitated to respond. The way he stared at you was so critical, so intense. And yet… You could see it in his eyes. That spark of playfulness hiding behind the intensity, this wasn't the punishment he was claiming it was. It was a game.

The fact he'd chosen you to play it made your heart do backflips. You took a deep breath, before nodding. You couldn't push back your nervous smile so you instead tried to make your voice as unwavering as you could.

"You should. And you should also feel bad. Because this is… Excessive."

"Excessive?!"

He hissed the word out, clearly unapproving.

"I've been merciful. You don't know what excessive looks like."

"I think it looks like being tied up and bitten. I'm also wondering how you think that's an appropriate punishment in a formal setting…"

Miguel's growl made your blood pressure spike. Ok, that last comment was a bit too cheeky. You let out a nervous laugh, tensing as much as you were able to in your current situation.

"I'll show you what excessive truly is."

He pulled your arms up, tucking them behind your head and leaving you exposed. Ah, fuck. He cracked his knuckles, eyes flitting down to stare at his target. Your stomach. Double fuck. Those talons rested against your stomach, his fingers twitching with anticipation. Triple fuck! You were so screwed. You were screwed the moment you stepped into this room.

You were expecting him to dig straight in but he surprised you by resisting that urge. He started slowly, dragging those claws up and down, eyes flicking up to stare you down as you broke out into giggles once more. He kept eye contact enough that you had to look away, too flustered by it to look back at him. Gradually, those nails dug in more and more, moving faster and more rough with each passing second. Your laughter followed suit, becoming more frantic and higher pitched. He leaned in as he made it worse for you, you could feel his gaze burning into your face.

Then his hands darted to your hips, scratching and digging into the dips of your bone. You shrieked at the sudden change, only to shriek once again when they dart back to your stomach. One hand kept scratching there, dragging itself around in random directions to keep you guessing, while the other hand crawled over your ribs. Whines spilled between your laughter, there in place of the begging you didn't dare let out. You know that's exactly what he wanted.

And yet, when his hands darted down to rapidly drag back and forth on your waistline you couldn't hold it back.

"NohoOHOHOho-! Stohop it-!"

You yelled it out before you could stop yourself. You didn't mean to break the silence, it was the one thing stopping Miguel's own tongue. With you having interrupted the sweet sound of your frantic laughter, Miguel growled into your ear.

"What's that? Can you not handle it? Is this excessive? Do you realise how lenient I was being before, do you realise now how ruthless I can truly be?"

You shook your head weakly, desperate to get him away from your ear. You leaned to the side enough to slip, but Miguel didn't let you fall away from him. He grabbed your shoulder and pushed you back up, pinning you to the back of the chair. It gave you a mere moment to gasp for breath before he was back to attacking both hands at your stomach once more. What's more, he ducked to your neck again, grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin between nibbles and ticklish bites. While the venom was wearing off now, the laughter itself was keeping you weak. Tears pricked at your eyes as he mercilessly continued. Your ribs and abs were getting sore from the laughter, not to mention his constantly scratching. You didn't know how much more you could handle…

So you relented.

"YEHES! I'msorryI'msorry, I'msohohorry-! Pleheheeaase-! Ahahah, it's too-AH! Toohoo MUCH! Mihigueeeel!!"

You frantically babbled through your laughter, some words wavering or getting cut off by the shrieks and yelps Miguel was so easily pulling from you. He revelled in the begging, letting out a satisfied sigh at having broken you down. Even though his hands slowed, you still frantically begged, only making it sweeter for him.

"Stohohop, plehehease- I cahan't, I can't tahahake it… Anymohore…"

Miguel stood up straight, granting you mercy. He looked down on his work, satisfied as he saw how tired out you were. The vibrant red of your cheeks framing the unshakable smile on your face. The streaks from when laughter induced tears spilled from the corner of your eyes, the messied hair from your prior squirming, your soft and giggle filled panting to regain your breath… A job thoroughly well done.

The webbing around your wrists unwrapped and shot back into his sleeves. He leaned forward to brush your hair back, wipe the tear stains on your cheeks away.

"For someone so sensitive, you can handle a lot."

The praise made your heart beat pick up again. You tilted your head back. Mostly from exhaustion, but also to make it easier for him. Your eyes fluttered closed as you concentrated on catching your breath… And the warmth of his hands. You let out a deep breath, speaking before you could think it through.

"You never wanted me to take over your work, did you…? It was a set up."

"Don't accuse me of being conniving."

"You're not denying it…"

"You're pushing it."

A claw dragged along your jaw when he said that, making you scrunch up and whine. Miguel relented when you tried to shift away, even if the reaction was compelling.

"You're one to talk. You didn't protest at all."

Oh, fuck, he noticed. You sat up, grabbing onto his wrists as you defended your honour.

"I was- You took me off guard! I was stunned! You're not exactly the type to seem like he'd- he'd do something like that!"

Miguel hummed, leaning in close.

"You asked for it. Disagreeing with me like that. You egged me on."

"You wanted me to!"

"I still do, are you trying to get round two?"

You squeaked when he moved his hands down. You pushed back, shaking your head rapidly. You've had your fill. The fact this all came out of nowhere made it a shock, you couldn't handle the mere thought of Miguel carrying on, much less him actually doing it.

But, maybe later… On a different day. You wouldn't mind it happening again.

"I… have to go train! And I'm supposed to babysit for Peter later- I have things to do! Save it for a rainy day?"

Miguel hummed. Your frantic excuses were cute. He stood up straight, his talons sheathing. You let out a sigh of relief, standing yourself. He didn't move back, towering over you.

"You'd better move quickly, then. Before I change my mind and do it anyway."

Great advice! You sidestepped around the chair, nodding before turning and speed walking away from Miguel. You still felt wobbly, you couldn't tell if it was from what happened or any lingering venom. It still felt like Miguel's claws were against your skin, a ghost of the sensation lingering even when you rubbed your sides. You glanced back as you got to the door, seeing Miguel's frame illuminated by the lights of the screen. He had gotten straight back to work.

Suppose you should do the same. You left, leaving Miguel to his own devices.

Unbeknownst to you, after you left, as Miguel worked he would occasionally pull up a video. Rewinding it, he'd listen to your laughter all over again. While it wasn't the same as the real thing, hearing it bounce around the otherwise quiet space brought a sense of comfort to him. At the very least, it'll keep his urges at bay.

At least until you're next available.

Story requests?

So, h-hi! Since the first thing I've written has seemingly gone over well, I figured I'd just let people request stories. So you think up some tickle situations, whether it be you, or characters from anything, or oc's, and ill write it! ^ ^

Tickle Fic

Yeah or nah? I gotta bunch of ideas swirling in my head. You guys just gotta give me a pairing of characters

A Nutcrackers weakness by cowstar on @DeviantArt

My first tickle fanfic I made of the nutcracker 😁

Ler Mood

Ler:Han

Lee:Jeongin

Han was in..a frustrating situation.

Han was in one of the WORST ler moods EVER. He was just yearning for some laughter! And what better way for laughter than to tickle one of his members?

Now, all of his members had once been lees before, including Han, but they had also been lers before, including Han. Each member had their own way of tickling their members. For example, Chan was the member who knew every members tickle spots. He was the eldest after all, and it was his duty to punish his babies by tickling them. He was also the best teaser because of how much he adored all of his members. On the other hand, Minho, was one of the roughest lers. As long as he wasn’t hurting anyone, he didn’t care. And to be fair, he would tickle for VERY long.

But putting that aside, Han needed someone to tickle. And FAST. All of the members were currently available to be wrecked, so he scanned the members. First, he eliminated Chan, and Changbin. They could both easily overpower him, and he wasn’t planning on getting rid of his ler mood by listening to his own laughter. Next, Minho. Minho was well..he was Minho. And Minho would most definitely get him back afterwards if he had tickled him, as well as Felix, and he didn’t want to deal with that. That left 3 members, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and I.N. Hyunjin was just wrecked by Minho yesterday, considering the fact Han could hear his shrieks all the way from his own room, and he didn’t want to torture Hyunjin again right after he was recovering from Minho. Which left the 2 maknaes. Seungmin, and I.N. Now Seungmin wasn’t as ticklish as other members, and with this ler mood, Han needed LOTS of loud laughter. And good for him, I.N was one of the most sensitive members, if not the most sensitive member. So I.N it was.

He walked into his and I.N’s shared room, to see a I.N on his bed scrolling through his phone. Han walked over to I.N and jumped onto the bed with him.

“Hi hyung.”

“Hi there Innie. You know, I’ve been feeling..strange recently.”

“Strange? Why? Are you okay?”

“I’ve been feeling as if..I need some laughter, if you know what I mean.”

And before I.N could react, Han tackled him, sat on his hips and restrained his arms.

“H-Hyung!? Please, it doesn’t have to be like this!”

“Sorry Innie, but it does.”

And without any warning, Han started to scribble, poke, and squeeze anywhere he could on I.N’s stomach.

“Hyuhuhng!! Stohop!”

Han decided to start off a bit light, not going in to rough, teasing I.N as he tugged on his arms under his hips, being restrained by his hips and Hans weight.

“Pleahease! Stop teaheheasing mehe hyuhuhg!”

“Oh you want me to stop teasing? Alright!”

And without any warning, Han drilled his fingers into I.N’s ribs, making I.N shriek, then let out peels of cackles afterwards.

“WAHAHAIT!!! HYUHUNG DOHONT DO THAHAT!!”

“Aww..look how adorable you are with your big smile!”

“STOHOP TEAHESING MEHE HYU-AHAHA PLEAHEASE!!”

Then without any warning Han plunged his hands into I.N’s underarms, making I.Ns laughter go silent, as tears of mirth started to form in his eyes.

“How adorable Innie~”

Not wanting to kill his maknae, Han went from roughly tickling I.N’s armpits to softly scribbling I.Ns stomach, which wasn’t as ticklish but left I.N still giggling.

“Hyuhung! Pleahease stohohop!”

I.N begged his evil hyung to stop as tears of mirth started to roll down his cheeks and neck.

“Alright, alright Innie, but let me do one more thing first.”

“Fihinie! Juhuhust huhury!”

“Alright!”

Han leaned down and attacked I.N’s worst spot, his neck. He started to blow raspberries, blow, nuzzle, and nibble on I.N’s neck, while he dug into his armpits.

And I.N went CRAZY. He started to throw his head around, begging and begging, and not even a few seconds after Han started his attack, I.N’s laugh went silent.

Han opened his eyes to see a adorable I.N, his face red with tears running down his cheeks and neck, mouth agape, silently mouthing the words “stop,” and “please no more,” not even having his voice to beg anymore.

And even though I.N looked extremely adorable to Han, Han knew he should stop, seeing that I.N couldn’t take it anymore.

He climbed off an exhausted I.N who immediately started to scratch his neck, trying to get rid of the ghost tickles on his neck. Han scooped up his adorable maknae, and placed him in his lap, rubbing his back.

“I’m telling Channie hyung!!”

“Yeah right.”

But Han was really hoping to make it up to I.N some way, knowing Chan would do anything for his adorable little maknae he adores.

In the end, Hans ler mood was long gone after hearing his maknaes laughter, and I.N ended up falling asleep in his hyungs lap and comfort, exhausted from the previous few minutes.

………………………………………………………………

Hope you liked my first fic! I’m not an experienced writer, and I’m a minor, so if this story doesn’t meet up to your expectations of the regular tickle fics you would usually read, I apologize. And because school is starting soon, I may not be able to make as many fics. Sorry! And remember, I DO NOT take requests. These fics are just based on my own fantasies. Hope you enjoy my fic! And I apologize if I made any spelling errors!

Giggles: Return to Sender

Oh wow, first big post on the new account. Hope all you silly goobers enjoy!

Wanted to do a more expansive fic with Eddie and Frank as a Ler duo. Listen, the husbands make people nervous, and not in a bad way. Because...well, you'll see. Wally sure did.

Tickles get a touch intense, but no worries! The little guy is a total glutton for it. ---

Eddie knew Frank better than the crowd at large. The only other person who could truly appreciate him was Julie. They had a connection that went straight to the heart. But Eddie knew him well, and knew his moods. Every expression had a meaning. And the one he burst into the post-office with was a highly displeased one.

“That little scoundrel!” Frank spluttered angrily, the door flinging behind him with a wheesh.

Eddie looked up from his box packing to see the irate expression on his husband’s face. “Easy does it there, lovebug” he spoke gently, trying to ease Frank’s temper before it got out of his control. He gently patted the chair he kept next to his desk, it was there in case company stopped by. “Now, tell me what happened?”

Frank took his spot in the chair and began “That little rascal painted my tomatoes blue! And then when I confronted him about it, he made a sly remark of ‘I thought they matched you better that way.’ Oh I could just..” Frank thumped his fists on the table.

But before they could get too worked up, a very gentle hand came down on his back. The large fingers scratched and rubbed soothingly. Frank crossed their arms and dropped their head down on top in a frustrated huff, grumbling irritatedly.

“I’m sorry, darlin’. Yeah, the little guy’s been a bit of a rascal the last couple days…” Eddie said, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. Frank looked up at him, a little surprised “...spooked me good when I delivered his mail yesterday, popped up from behind the fence. Didn’t even notice him, he’s so small” He chuckled, Wally wasn’t normally such a trouble-maker. “I was so caught off guard I dropped my bag, letters everywhere.”

Frank snorted, Eddie too it seemed. They made a growl, their expression still furrowed “Oh I wish I could wipe that smug little grin off his face!”

“Well, I don’t know about that, honeybug. I would hate to do anything mean to the little guy, just maybe return the laugh a lil.” Eddie said gently, trying to maintain some kind of ‘voice of reason’. He had such a patient heart, it took a lot and significantly more malicious intent to get Eddie actually mad at someone.

Frank’s expression suddenly began to shift “Perhaps…” They toyed Eddie’s wording around in their head.

The two met each other’s gaze. A very familiar look crossed their features, as they both connected what the other was thinking. It was a shared smile of mischievous intent, one that consistently sent the others of the neighborhood into a nervous panic. Eddie chuckled and asked “What’s the plan, darlin’?”

Frank’s smirk darkened and he said, leaning back in his chair “Get him over here tomorrow, after your rounds. We’ll give that little rascal something to laugh about.”

Wally merrily made his way down to the post office the next afternoon. He’d gotten a lovely letter from Eddie telling him there was a delivery for him at the office that he needed to pick up personally. It sounded important.

Upon arriving to the large building, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. It was a cool refresher from the summer heat outside, much too warm to even wear his cardigan outside. So he had contended with just the button-down dress shirt.

Quite a surprise to step in and see Frank sitting at Eddie’s desk, reading a book. Their slim, grey fingers flicked the pages as they combed through the material.

“Oh, hello Frank, what are you doing here?” Wally greeted them kindly, approaching the front of the desk.

“Oh I was just waiting for Eddie to get back, with you.” He added the last part, looking up at Wally sharply.

“You aren’t still mad about yesterday, are you Frank?” There was more remorse in his voice than anything. Maybe he really didn’t mean to go so far. But it was too late for regrets now.

“Mad? Oh no, Wally.” Frank spoke, setting their book down. “I’ve a much better idea in mind than being mad at you.” They stood up, a glint in their eye that stirred a familiar sensation in Wally’s belly. Frank only ever got that glint when someone was about to be victim of a very specific type of silliness. It wasn’t ‘safe’ to stay here.

He quickly turned to run, only to be caught bya pair of large arms before he could even get near the door.

“Oh no you don’t!” Eddie said, scooping the little guy up and tossing him over his shoulder. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere you little rascal.”

Wally barely struggled, going limp in Eddie’s grasp. When they reached Frank, he carefully slung Wally off his shoulder and set him on the floor. Clasping him around the middle before he had a chance to dart, pressing his back to Eddie’s chest. Finally, with one hand, Eddie seized both of the smaller hands and lifted them above their owner’s head.

Now that the little puppet was firmly in one spot, Frank came around the desk to join them. He sat down on his knees in front of Wally. Almost uncanny how intimidating Frank could be when you knew he was mad at you. Esspecially when you were caught between him and Eddie. That was a spot nobody ticklish wanted to be in, mostly.

“So, Wally Darling, any last words?” Frank asked, a smug sneer on his face.

“This’ll be your only chance to talk, Walls.” Eddie said, free hand teasing at one of Wally’s ears, causing little snickers to slip out “Because once we start, you’re gonna want to save your breath.”

“And as a preface, all submitted apologies must be paid in the accepted form, in full.”

“What, heehee, quit! What form ihis thahat?”

Frank’s wicked grin never faltered as he raised his hands, gray fingers wriggling in Wally’s direction “Giggles.”

Before Wally could even offer a proper response. The fingers came straight to his armpits, thoughtfully scratching at the space bellow the hollows. The thin dress-shirt did little to guard against the onslaught. Apparently the talking was over.

Wally squealed, distracted and unprepared for the attack. “EEeek! Eeeheeheeheehee, pleaheeHEEHEEheehese, no tihickling!”

“Aw come on, gigglebox.” Eddie said, his voice warm against Wally’s ear “You love being tickled.” His free hand moved down to his sides, fingers digging where his ribs would be. The little artist burst into new peals of laughter, his back slightly arching.

“More upwards, dear heart. The spot below his armpits makes him shriek.” Frank said, matter-of-factually.

Eddie gave a nod, following the instruction. He couldn’t help but smile fondly at how Wally did in fact gave a shriek of tickly shock as promised. Frank’s fingers had wandered upwards to attack the hollows directly. The slender, gray digits digging giggles of the highest pitch out of the sensitive felt.

“PLEAHEEHEEheese! GEEHEEheehee! DON’T! Aaiieeheehehaahaa~! Stohahahp!”

“Not a chance you little scoundrel, you’re done for”

“I hope you’re enjoying the laughs, snicker-doodle!”

Frank and Eddie were both deadly ticklers on their own. But when put together, they were a formidable, terrifying force.

Frank was methodical and precise. He seemed to take every bit of the process as seriously as he did everything else, only with his own devious enjoyment in mind. Every tickle spot was carefully dissected and most effective tactics discovered to ensure maximum ticklishness. Frank operated with this spine-tingling efficiency, only coupled by the fact that his tickle-monster was most easily activated via annoyance.

A tickler who not only found where and what got you laughing the hardest, but also tickled with a vengeance in mind.

Frank’s fingers tweaked and pinched at Wally’s upper sides. Sharp squeaks and shrill squeals poured from Wally’s mouth as he tried to hide his face in one of his arms.

“You see, my love, quick, fast pinching in this area is what’s most effective. Oh and if you notice carefully, he twitches aggressively the further back my hands go. Should I wiggle my fingers right where his back starts, like this, it makes him squirm a good deal, and when I vibrate my fingers rapidly…”

Like a professional at their craft, Frank carefully explained all the little ways to make Wally howl with unparalleled laughter. All while his loving husband carefully followed along, asking clarifying questions a little too happily for Wally’s comfort.

“Hold him tight a moment, I need to fetch something.” Frank said, standing up “Don’t give him any leeway, dear heart.”

“No worries, honeybug, he’s not goin’ nowhere.” Eddie replied, carefully mimicking the way Frank had lightly pinched and prodded up and down Wally’s ribs, one handed in his case. Enjoying the way it made the little guy squeak and squeal with shrill giggles.

Frank, meanwhile, carefully pawed through the second drawer at Eddie’s desk. Taking his time to enjoy the bubbling laughter as he did so. After leisurely finding what he was looking for, he stood up, stretching comfortably. When he made his way back to the duo on the floor, he crossed his arms and leaned forward to address his husband directly.

“Eddie, switch places with me, I’ll take his arms.”

“Alright, lovebug.”

Frank seized Wally’s wrists as they transitioned spots with Eddie. Wally craned his neck to try and see what Frank had grabbed out of Eddie’s desk, only to snap back when the postman settled down in front of him. The gentle, but knowing smile on his face was enough to get the quivers going in Wally’s belly again. He lifted his hands up, wiggling his fingers teasingly, causing a wild fit of giggles. “Haha! I don’t even gotta touch ya to getcha gigglin’, lil fella.”

There wasn’t even an opportunity for Wally to argue before he felt a gentle whisk against his ear. He suddenly knew what Frank had.

“Frank, no not that!” Wally squeaked.

“Oh it’s just a paint brush Wally. Why the fuss,..” Frank said, he had taken Wally’s ascot off and used it to wrap his wrists up, so his hand was free to grasp his fingers “...you love these.” The soft bristles glided across the sensitive surface of Wally’s little palms. The eruption of laughter was fantastic.

While his focus was on Frank, he failed to notice a pair of hands reach towards his sides. It was too late when the fingers began to wiggle against the sides of his belly, causing him to jump. “Such a ticklish little gigglebox.” Eddie cooed.

Eddie’s tickling was as warm and soft as he was. He was always so gentle, wanting his hapless victim to have as much fun as he was having. But he was as methodical and precise as Frank, and he learned quickly. Unlike Frank’s narrow fingers, Eddie had large hands that could span the whole length of Wally’s torso. But how and where Eddie tickled wasn’t the worst part, it was what he said.

“Quite a laugh there, little guy! It really mus’ tickle somethin’ terrible.”

“You’re so soft ‘round the middle, Wally-doll, almos’ too perfect not to tickle! And those cute lil faces you make...you’re jus’ so precious. Jus’ the cutest little guy in the whole neighborhood.”

Eddie’s teases were heart-meltingly sweet. Sugary compliments and saccharine teases, all coated with that honeyed southern drawl that he spoke so effortlessly. His accent had a way of making even the stubborn, blush like blooming roses.

For those sensitive to flattery, it was enough to kill.

“*snort*GOOHOODNESS! YEE*snort*AAHHAHAHAHAHA! STAH-AH*snort*AHHAAHAAHAAHAA~!”

Eddie’s fingers softly dug into Wally’s tummy, while Frank’s brush swirled around his sensitive palms. Both spots were horribly sensitive on their own. Having them both attacked at once was causing the little artist to start to crumble. His thoughts were starting to blur together in one giddy fog.

Eddie arched his back slightly, in a small sign of discomfort. “Back sore, dear heart?”

“Yeah, he’s so little I gotta hunch to reach him, it’s startin’ to kill my back.”

Frank thought carefully as he swished his brush along Wally’s palm. Then, an idea struck him, he looked to Eddie and said “Hang him”

Eddie obviously understood what that meant, somehow. Because he gave a firm nod. He grabbed Wally by the ankles and Frank seized him under the armpits. They hoisted the weary little artist up, and carefully rested his lower legs over Eddie’s shoulder. A firm hand clasped down on his shins, he was going nowhere.

“No too heavy, is he dearest?”

“Oh no, darlin’. He’s awful light actually.”

Frank gave a nod, moving to stand at Wally’s feet. Then he began to undo the laces of his shoes. Poor Wally hadn’t even the strength to wiggle at this point. Once his socks were slipped off, now he was admittedly nervous again.

“F..Frank...pleaheeheese, I’ve...I’ve learned my lesson...honest.” Wally pleaded softly. At the back of his mind however, there was something desperately hoping Frank would ignore him. Something that was utterly and deeply thrilled at being at the mercy of such relentless tickling.

“Good. You can fill us in on what you’ve learned once we’re thoroughly done.” Frank said, matter-of-factually.

It was then that a single finger slid up his left foot from heel to toes. Wally jolted. A jolt that quickly turned into wiggles and giggles when that same foot was suddenly tormented by three scribbling fingers. Then a second hand turned to his right, mimicking the motions.

“GEEHEEHEEHEEHEE *snort, NOHO *snort* PLEAHEEHEEHEESE! AH! NONO! NOTTHETOHOHOES *snort*!”

Wally squealed and squirmed as the slender fingers teased at his wiggling toes. Scribbling at the base and sliding between them to scratch at the soft felt.

“Aww, you got ticklish tootsies, gigglebox?” Eddie teased, a firm grip on Wally’s shins, other hand gently clasps over his abdomen to keep him from getting too wiggly. Mischievously, his fingers began wiggling at the side of Wally’s tummy.

“AIIEE*snort*HAHAHAHA, *snort* EDDHIEHEEHEEHEE! DOHOHON’T! OHHO GOOHOODNESS *snort*, AHHAAHAAHAAHAA, TIHIHICKLES! *snort**snort*”

“His left side is the more ticklish one, dearest.” Frank was a little too smart for his own good more often than not.

After Frank had taken his due time with those wiggly toes, he came back around to stand at Eddie’s shoulder. Comfortably reclining against his husband. “Catch your breath now, because this last stretch will be the worst and there will be no holding back.” This was them holding back?

Wally breathlessly gasped “Bu-but...you’ve gotten..ev-everything.” He was honestly clueless what they had missed. They even got his feet, which usually got out of these attacks unscathed.

“Oh no, not quite.” With a tug, Frank freed the tails of Wally’s dress shirt, letting the fabric gather at his chest, exposing his bare belly.

In an instant, Wally knew exactly what was about to happen “Guys, please, please, please, anywhere but there...I heehee, I am behegging you.”

“Not a chance” Frank said dryly. He raised one hand and reached towards Wally’s trembling tummy. A light tap against the bright red heart in the very center elicited a splutter of giggles. Frank escalated from tapping to very gentle scratching. Wally utterly erupted.

“OHOHO *snort* GOODNESS NOHOHO! *snort**snort* GAHHAHAHAHAAHAAHAAHAA! EEHEEHEEHEE *snort*! PLEAHEEHEEHEESE *snort* NOHOHO! HAAHAA*snort*HAA~!”

“Would you like to get in on this, dear heart? He’s delightfully sensitive.”

“Don’t mind if I do, darlin’.” A second, larger finger joined Frank’s, scratching at the soft velvet tummy heart.

“PLEAHEEHEEHEESE *snort* TOOHOO MUHUCH! NYAA*snort*HAAHAAHAAHAAHAA*snort*! I’M SOHOHORRY!! OH GOOHOODNESS MEHEEHEEHEE *snort* *snort*, IT TIHIHICKLES*snort*!! IT TIHICKLES! BAHAAHAAHAAHAA*snort*! AAHHAAHAAHAA~!”

Wally was an absolute mess at this point. His hair had flown all over the place, his cheeks burned deep red with a blush that had spread to his tummy. All the while, a maddening pulse of tickly sensations was coursing through his system. All sourced from what was honestly the most sensitive part of him. His laugh was impossibly loud and broken up with his silly, honk-like snorts.

After was felt like an agonizing amount of time, a voice spoke “Just a moment, my dearest, there’s something I’m terribly curious to try.” A brief, heavenly moment of relief. Just enough for him to hear an intake of air, right before his own was knocked straight from him via the worst rippling tickles straight on the heart that marked his tummy.

Eddie was darn near stunned to watch Frank blow raspberry after raspberry on Wally’s tummy. Where did they get the idea to do that? They almost never resorted to such ‘silliness’ when tickling.

“Wow, pulling out all the stops are ya, honeydew?” This was a side of them he’d be happy to get used to.

Frank fixed their bowtie and replied “Indeed. I must admit, that is fun. I think I’m starting to understand Barnaby’s enjoyment, for one thing.” Frank shook his head; it was a dark day when he was starting to see eye-to-eye with Barnaby.

“Mind if I get in on the fun, lovebug?”

“Oh be my guest.”

Eddie used his free hand to scoop the weary little artist up in a more reachable position. Frank relished as the renewed, breathless blubbering quickly dissolved into hysterics once again. Wally’s laugh was more wheezes and air at this point. It was starting to enter a sort of delirium.

That’s when they both knew he was done.

Eddie tenderly let him collapse in his arms, cradling him against his chest. Frank undid the ascot at his wrists, neatly folding it on top of the desk. Wally melted into a puddle of hiccuping giggles in Eddie’s arms. His face and belly were bright red, and he seemed pretty witless. He rested his head against Eddie’s chest, letting the heaves and giggles work out of his system.

“Oh...heeheehee...oh I’m...haha...so sore.” He panted, his whole body hurt after such hard laughter, in an exhilarating sort of way.

Eddie gave him a gentle squeeze, his free hand offering deep, soothing rubs to Wally’s aching tummy. This earned an appreciative ‘murr’ from the exhausted artist. “Bet that feels pretty good, huh Walls? You got a big laugh for such a little guy.”

“Certainly do, serves you right for being so sensitive.” Frank said, with the undertone of a tease in his voice. Even so, his fingers combed affectionately through Wally’s hair, the fervent thrashing having utterly uncurled his signature rolled pompadour. This left the explosion of curls and waves that made up his actual hair texture.

Wally nestled comfortably in Eddie’s arms, soaking in the affection and post-tickle delirium. Eddie was so soft and warm, and his arms felt safe and secure. Wally let out a yawn, his eyes felt very heavy and Frank’s fingers playing through his hair was very soothing.

“Oh, biiig yawn. I think someone’s all tuckered out.” Eddie said with a chuckle.

Wally nodded, letting his head rest against his friend’s broad chest, soon drifting off. Eddie held him tight and went to sit down at his desk while Frank collected Wally’s shoes and socks, setting them neatly against the wall. Afterwards he went to take his spot in the chair beside Eddie’s desk.

At this point, Wally had fallen fast asleep, muttering to himself. He looked so at peace.

Frank shook his head, he had quite the charm to him when he wasn’t being a nuisance. They picked up the book they had been reading earlier, flipping back to their spot. They snuck one more look at the other two, Eddie was comfortably settled in his chair, Wally held close to his chest. The little neighbor seemed quite content. Not that Frank could blame him, being held by Eddie was one of those little joys he never took for granted.

Maybe they were a little hard on him. But he was in safe arms until he recovered.

*peeks head out of blanket fort* Sooo…wrote this fic recently hehe Clone Wars with tickles! Hueahshdkajd Star Wars fluff fans, come get y’all’s juice blue milk!✨💙<3

*hides back in blanket fort* ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Cure For a Bad Day—MCU

No thots. Just a silly fluffy Irondad thought I had to turn into a story. :3 If you don’t like, don’t read. But if you’re here for Irondad fluff or just fluffy Marvel tickles, then come on in! OvO

Word Count: 5,000

Summary: After a rough week of school mishaps, Peter starts to doubt his future at being a good student and even being Spider-Man. It’s up to Tony Stark to remind Peter he’s still worth it, and bring back his mentor’s favorite smile. (This is a tickle fic duh, purely platonic)

Lee! Peter

Ler! Tony

If there was one thing Peter Parker was good at, was multitasking. How many other teens could juggle the responsibilities of high school while fighting crime almost every night in the not-so-friendly-neighborhood, and still manage to finish their homework on time for the next day?

Somehow he was able to do both.

But like any other student, he had his challenges. Like today, for example. Peter was in the middle of trying to finish a lab report essay for chemistry class. He was pretty stressed out, as he hadn’t had so much time to work on it for the past three weeks stopping midnight crimes and shenanigans almost four nights a week.

Now, here he was, hunched over at his desk, typing away at his laptop attempting to finish his lab report that was due tomorrow. He was mid-paragraph, stuck on page three out of the required five.

Normally, Peter would rack his science loving brain and throw something together quick, but tonight was different. He was having trouble figuring out more words and what to say in the report.

His eyes were starting to hurt from staring at his computer screen so long. His spine ached from being hunched over like a shrimp in his chair for hours. And his stomach growled; he had skipped dinner and was insistent with himself that he could have time to eat after he got his report done.

He looked at his bedside clock. 10:37pm. Oh come on! I’ll have to go to bed soon and I’m not even close to being done.

Peter sighed. Sometimes, his full time job being Spider-Man could really put a dent into his student life.

There was a knock at his door. “Peter? You alright?” the soft voice of his Aunt asked.

“I’m okay, Aunt May,” Peter stifled a yawn. “Just finishing up homework.”

“You said you were finishing up two hours ago.”

“Well this time, I mean it. I am almost done.”

“Alright if I come in?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

The sight of her tired, stressed, hunched over nephew saddened May. “Oh, Peter, you’ve been at that science report of yours all afternoon. Why not call it a night and get some rest?”

“I can’t,” Peter’s eyes stayed glued to his screen. The blinking curser that sat there unmoving for hours seemed to mock him. “I have to finish this tonight. This thing is worth a lot of my grade this semester.”

“Hmm, okay how about this?” May offered. “I’ll let you knock off school tomorrow, and send a note to your teachers that you’re out sick. It’ll give you an extra day to finish your report.” Her lips ruled into a soft grin. “Maybe after that, you and I can head off to the mall and buy you some more of those Squishables things you secretly like.”

Normally, Peter would laugh and jokingly say what a bad influence she was letting him cut school like that. But tonight, he didn’t even crack a smile. “No thanks. I’ll get this done before I go to sleep. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Aunt May saw that tonight would be one of those nights where Peter wouldn’t budge out of his zombie induced state. So she decided to let him be. “Alright then,” she sighed. “Just please don’t stay up past midnight. I don’t want to get another phone call saying you slept through class and other kids decided to draw on your face.”

“Yeah, will do.”

And with that, she shut the door.

Peter rubbed his eyes with a sigh. “C’mon…c’mon…gotta finish. Ugh! Why can’t I finish?” The teen was just about to give up and call it quits when the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood out on end. His Spidey tingle was going off!

Despite feeling achy and sluggish, he quickly stood up and tore off his clothes, slipping into his Spider-Man costume. He pulled his mask over his face and was about to jump out the window when he stopped himself.

Aunt May might come back to check if I really did go to sleep. Dang it! Ok uhh…oh wait! That’ll work!

Peter grabbed some day old clothes off the floor and shoved them under his blanket, pushing them into a sort of Peter-shaped lump. Hopefully, if his aunt came to check on him she wouldn’t look too closely.

Grabbing his phone, he hopped off the windowsill and swung out into the night.

By the time Peter managed to sneak back into his room through the window, he was exhausted. He felt like he was about to pass out as soon as he stepped into his bedroom.

He flopped onto his bed, lifting his Spidey mask off his sweaty face. He didn’t have the energy to take off his costume just yet. He was so tired.

He had stopped a home break-in coordinated by three criminals. Normally, a crime like a break-in was child’s play to Peter. But after spending the whole week fighting off crime and running on four hours of sleep, and topped with the stress of his recent assignment, Spider-Man suddenly didn’t have the energy to do a lot of fighting tonight.

His web-shooting was uncoordinated, one punch nearly knocked him out, and he appeared to be wobbly when he landed.

Even the criminals seemed to noticed how he wasn’t putting much of a fight, and taunted him while having their weapons pointed at the sleepy hero.

Peter barely managed to stop those three criminals, and earned himself a bruise on his jaw and knee. So by the time the boy made it home, the clock read 1:55am.

Peter wanted to scream in frustration. Well there goes another sleepless night, he thought as he quietly stripped himself out of his Spidey suit and grabbed a T-shirt from his floor pile.

He cringed as his brain calculated the few hours of sleep he would be getting again.

The next day at school turned out to be so much worse. First, Peter was late to his first class due to him sleeping through his many alarms he set for that morning. Next, he ended up forgetting his lunch—and even emergency lunch money—from rushing to get ready earlier. And then, as if that wasn’t enough to put him in a bad mood, he completely forgot about his lab report.

His stomach churned as he heard the teacher announce for everyone to hand in their reports to the front.

“Peter?” The voice of his best friend made him whip around.

“What is it, Ned?”

“What’s up with you?” Ned asked in a hushed whisper. “You look like you haven’t slept in a month, and you’re acting way jittery than normal.” Ned’s eyes widened. “Is it the spider sense?! Is there danger somewhere right now? Do you need me to come up with an excuse so you can get out of here?”

Peter could barely register his friend’s overlapping questions. “No, Ned, I don’t need anything. And it’s not that. I just…” he sighed, burying his face into his sweater covered arms. “Trouble in the neighborhood late at night, and I completely forgot to finish my lab report.”

“What?!” Ned whisper-shouted. “Y’know normally I’d scold you like your aunt does, but you look like you’ve been through enough already.” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Need me to make up some excuse? Save your skin at least a little?”

Peter shook his head miserably. “No point. I’m screwed enough as is here. Total failure.”

“Are you su—“

Their conversation was interrupted by the teacher snapping at them. “Parker? Your report, please.”

Uneasiness filled Peter’s stomach again. It felt borderline nauseous. He slowly walked up to the front desk. “I uh…don’t really have it physically with me right now.” He pointed towards his lab table. “I-It’s on my laptop.”

“Trouble printing it out?” The teacher asked.

“Something like that.” Peter could feel his cheeks growing warm.

The teacher sighed with a head shake. “Well then if you email it to me in the next three minutes, I’ll still give you credit. But next time, Peter, make sure you are able to find a reliable printing source ahead of time when you’re printing your reports. Don’t just try to print them last minute, that’s when these incidents happen.”

“Yes, of course.” Peter swallowed dryly as he shuffled back to his table. His fingers trembled as he opened his laptop, the unfinished pages of his lab report staring back at him. It felt like a punch to the gut. Well…something is better than nothing, right?

After school, the poor exhausted teen wanted nothing more than to go home, face plant onto his bed, and hope his mattress would swallow him up.

He was surprised to see a text message from Happy on his phone screen. Meet at the Avenger’s facility right after school. Your ride is waiting for you out front. New missions are heading your way. :) -Happy

New mission? That perked Peter up a little. At least he could forget about school for the weekend. Sulking in his room would have to wait. Right now, he was curious as to what sort of new mission awaited him at the Avengers’ headquarters!

The car trip didn’t take so much time. It did, however, leave the boy to replay the events that had just happened prior. He slumped in his seat. Suddenly, a new mission with the Avengers didn’t seem to excite him anymore.

Why can’t I just be more responsible? Peter bitterly asked himself. The other Avengers are able to juggle their normal lives and jobs and still manage to fight bad guys all without breaking a sweat. Heck, even Mr. Stark can do it. So why can’t I? *sigh* Am I really that bad of a student? What’s my future going to look like if I can’t even make it through high school?

Ugh! Why is your entire self worth and future determined by one stupid grade?!

Upon arrival, Peter didn’t seem as starry-eyed or ecstatic anymore. At least, that was the noticeable vibe Tony Stark noticed with his young mentee. He, in fact, looked in bad shape. Dark rings circled under his eyes, he looked disheveled like he had been sleeping under a bridge the whole week, and he seemed very anxious. Not the typical anxious-excitement Peter normally projected whenever he heard any mention of a potential new mission.

Tony wrapped an arm around the silently depressed teen. “So how goes it, kid? Survived another week of school?”

Peter scoffed. “Just barely.”

“I hear ya. But hey, cheer up. It looks like a certain web-slinging hero will be tagging along on more serious world-saving missions with the rest of us. Now how’s that upgrade for your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?”

The boy merely shrugged. “I guess it could be good for my rep. So long as I don’t screw anything up again.”

“Hey, look. You just made a couple mistakes, underoos. It happens to all of us when we’re starting out as heroes. But this a fresh start; a chance to really show the others and the world that your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man protects more than just the neighborhood and supermarkets. He protects the world, too.” He gave Peter’s shoulder a shake.

“Okay,” Peter said with a small sigh. Oh how he wished he could get back to sulking in his room right about now.

Tony started to grow more worried about his mentee that afternoon. He assumed the kid had a bad day at school or was simply tired after a long week, but this seemed much worse.

Peter didn’t go on mini gush-rants about random things. He didn’t spit out any science jokes or puns. He didn’t even quote any old movies. Peter Parker always quoted his vintage iconic quips and lines. It was like his second vocabulary—first vocabulary being talking in only Star Wars lines.

Something was really wrong. And Stark was not going to wait around any longer to find out.

When Tony finally found Peter, he was sitting upside down from the corner of the ceiling, the hood of his sweater almost covering his face, earbuds in and mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“Peter?”

Said teen took his earbuds out. His gaze softened when he met eyes with his mentor. “Oh, hey Mr. Stark. What brings you here?”

“That’s just what I want to ask you, kid. What are you doing up there by yourself?”

Peter shrugged. “Bored.”

“Bored?! In the freakin’ Avengers’ facility?”

“Well, sorry. Guess I’m just a little too tired today.”

He’s trying to avoid my question, Tony thought. “A better question would be, why have you been moping around since you got here? Happy even said that you were so quiet in the car ride here. No offense, kid, but you’re never the quiet type. Especially around Happy. So what gives?”

The boy averted his game. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just tired like I said. Y’know, keeping the neighborhood safe almost every night really drains your energy.”

“Cut the charades, kid,” Tony said firmly. “I wanna know what’s up with you. I’ve known you long enough to know that even with your nighttime gig as Spider-Man, you somehow always have enough energy to set Happy’s blood pressure spiraling, and annoy the rest of the Avengers with your weird vine refreshes and those picture things you call memes.”

Peter averted his gaze. How could he tell his mentor and biggest idol all the crappy events that took place that week? It wasn’t like it was a serious topic. It was just his own failure to be responsible.

“I don’t know,” he answered quietly.”

“Hmm…let me guess. Trouble at school?”

Peter looked up.” Maybe?”

“Alright, give me names here. A description of the punk. Who’s organs do I have to obliterate?”

“What? No, no, no, it’s not like that, Mr. Stark,” Peter quickly objected. “It’s just…rough days at school is all. And my student life.”

“I see. Want to come down from there and talk about it? I’ll have Happy make us some hot chocolate.”

“Alright.”

The warm hot chocolate was very comforting. After the long harsh week of events, a hot comforting drink was just what Peter needed. And it helped ease the hesitance he had earlier so he was able to come clean about what had happened.

“Wow,” Tony said, finally breaking the silence. “It sounds like the week really treated you terribly.”

“Tell me about it.” Peter fixed his gaze on his cup.

“Hey, listen, kid. You just had a bad week. Things will get better. You gotta believe that.”

The teen hero frowned. “How do you know I won’t keep failing? I’ve been screwing up nonstop this entire week. And even when I try to do better, everything always turns out worse. It’s like the universe hates me because I’m Spider-Man.”

Before Tony could respond, Peter kept talking. “And its so dumb, too. This whole situation. I’m sitting here whining about something that could’ve been avoidable if I had been a more responsible student. There’s no one to blame but me. And look at you, Mr. Stark. If you were in my shoes, you wouldn’t be a failing student just because you’re Ironman. I just want to do better, but I don’t feel like I can. And I know the school system doesn’t believe I can either.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Tony protested. “You’re a brilliant kid, Peter. Yes, you’re going to hit roadblocks along the way with your full time gig as Spider-Man and as a full time student, but you’re going to be fine. You just need a little encouragement. When you’re out there saving the neighborhood and face-to-face with an enemy that makes you feel like it’s hopeless, I’ve noticed that you never back down. No matter how difficult it is. This right here isn’t any different.

And if the crappy school system that’s been putting too much pressure on their students and treating them like garbage doesn’t believe in you, I do. I believe you can do it, Peter. You’re so much stronger than you think you are.”

Peter almost wanted to tear up at the words his mentor was telling him. Damn, he really was good at this inspirational uplifting speech thing. Maybe even better than Captain America.

He couldn’t stop the tears, though. He had been feeling so emotional this entire week and after hearing Tony freakin’ Stark rant about how he was worth it despite everything he was feeling, Peter really needed to let some tears out.

Seeing the boy’s eyes fill with tears made Tony panic. Had he made the kid feel worse with his words? “Oh god, are you alright? Did i go too far with that?”

Peter let out a breathy laugh. “No, no, you’re good.” He sniffed, and wiped his tears with his sweater sleeve. “Sorry I got emotional back there. Your uplifting speech just got me teary-eyed. Thanks, Mr. Stark. I guess I really needed to hear that.”

Tony gave the teen’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Anytime, kiddo. Glad I could help. Now, I do want to help out with your school problem a little so you’re not feeling traumatized Monday morning.”

The boy tilted his head like a curious puppy. “Huh? What do you mean help out?”

“Well I sort of did a little research on what your next assignments for the week are going to be on for your classes. And I took the liberty to have FRIDAY complete next week’s assignments so you’ll have the entire week off to not worry about your homework.”

“You…wait, are you saying that you had FRIDAY hack into my teachers’ lesson plans and did all my homework for me?!”

Tony nodded, stirring his half drunk mug with a spoon. “Yup. Your homework’s done with all the right answers so it’ll guarantee to bring your grades back up to an A+.” He paused. “Well, an A- to make it seem like you did it.”

Peter didn’t know if he should feel grateful or disbelief. “I-I…thank you? I guess?”

Tony smirked. “What, that’s it? I do you a favor here so you can have the week off. You can have more time to focus on your web-slinging career, or use the extra time to take a nap in home room, or stare at girls more between classes.”

Peter blushed at that last comment. “Okay, fine. Thank you, Mr. Stark. I really appreciate it.” For the first time that week, Peter smiled. A genuine warm smile. Then his face melted to concern. “Wait…do you think that it’s cheating?”

“Uhh….nah,” Tony assured him with a wave of his hand. “Hey, as long as it gets you the grades you deserve. Besides, you aren’t even going to use 90% of the crap they teach you in school. You’re gonna forget it immediately anyways.”

Peter giggled, covering his mouth with his sleeve. “Oh my god, Mr. Stark. You’re just as a bad influence as May.”

“Good! Maybe you can learn something here about all the shortcuts and loopholes to high school.”

“There are noho loopholes or shortcuhuhuts to high school!”

“Hell yeah there are! How do you think I got to where I am today?” Tony gestured to himself. “You think all of this happened by being a full time student? No way. High school did nothing to help me be who I am today. All it did was give me anxiety, student debt, and unrealistic expectations on what I needed to thrive in the real world. Oh yeah, high school teaches you nothing on how to adult or pay your bills. But hey, at least they teach you that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, right?”

Peter could not stop his giggles anymore. His giggles turned to laughter, and even while trying to muffle them through his sleeves, Tony could see the corner of his smile and the blush that dusted his cheeks.

It was always so easy to make the kid laugh, and Tony always liked to take advantage of it every time.

“Y-You’re terrihihible, Mr. Stark!” Peter said through his bright laughter. “A bahahad influence! Y-You’re even worse thahahn Loki!”

“Excuuuuse me?!” Tony pretended to be offended. He sat up, scraping the chair back, which made Peter’s eyes widen in alarm.

“Wait, no!” Peter surprised Tony by flipping onto the ceiling. “Don’t—Don’t tickle me, Mr. Stark!” Peter had had enough recent experience knowing what that look meant every time Tony got up from his seat. Having his own mentor know of his one dreaded weakness—the fact that he was insanely ticklish—and using that to mess with him anytime he got depressed or a little too snarky always flustered him to bits.

Tony grinned up at the spider teen on the ceiling. “Huh? Tickle you? Now why on earth would I do that? Oh right, because your ticklishness got dialed up to eleven from the spider bite. Isn’t that what you told me?”

Peter’s blush darkened. “S-Stop saying that so casually! I now what you’re up to!”

“Hey, I’m not up to anything. And honestly, I wasn’t going to tickle you.” A sinister smirk spread across his mentor’s face. “But since that was the first thought that crossed your mind…”

Peter’s tummy did fluttery flip flops. “Oh c’mon!! Mr. Stark nohoho! Dohohon’t you dare!”

“Too late. FRIDAY, a little help?”

“Yep. On it.”

The poor flustered teen squealed in alarm as one of Tony’s Ironman suits came flying over to him, trying to pry him off the ceiling. It was surprisingly easy, as Peter was already too giggly and flustered to concentrate on his sticking to the ceiling.

With Peter off the ceiling, he was dumped ungracefully onto the floor in front of Tony where the Iron suit immediately grabbed and pinned the kid’s wrists above his head.

“What the—FRIDAY you traitohohor!” Peter squawked. He pulled on his wrists, internally pouting that his spider strength wasn’t working in that moment.

“Hey now, don’t you insult FRIDAY,” Tony playfully scolded with a poke to the boy’s stomach. Peter squeaked at the touch. “We’re just here to help you out. I know how rough it’s been with school lately, and I don’t want to lose my underoos just because of that. You’ve been real upset ever since you got here and I know you’ve been upset all week. So no more of that now. You should know the Avengers’ facility is a no-sadness zone!”

And with that said, Tony right away scribbled both hands into his kid’s belly, making Peter screech.

“EeeAAAHAAaahahaaa! HeHEHE—Heyyyy! No faHAHAhahair!” Peter thrashed and kicked, instinctively trying to pull his arms down to no avail. “Mr. Stahahark! Nohoho pleasHEEAheeheehease!”

“Sorry, no can do, kiddo,” Tony casually answered over his mentee’s squeaky laughter. “I haven’t seen my underoos’ favorite smile in forever so I’m making up for lost time!”

“B-But nohohot like tha—HAAAHA! Heheheyyy!” Peter arched his back as Tony’s fingers crept up to his ribs. His blush now spread to the tips of his ears. He was cursing internally at how his Spidey strength was suddenly no longer there as he was laughing like a maniac.

Any other intense situation, Spider-Man would be able to easily get himself out of, but this was different. The ticklish sensations buzzing throughout his nervous system plus all his laughing was sapping any strength he had left, including his spider strength.

As Tony let his fingers inch closer to the teen’s underarms, he was playfully shocked when Peter tried to bite him. He pulled his hands back with a gasp.

“Whoa! What the heck was that?! What are you, a biting tarantula now?”

“You were getting too close to my armpits!” Peter shot back.

“Ohhhh I see.” Tony flashed him an evil grin that reminded Peter of that creepy, murderous knife-hiding doll from that 80s movie that always came back from the dead. “That’s your death spot, isn’t it?”

Peter shifted uncomfortably, his blush darkening. “N-No..?”

“Wrong answer.”

“AAAAAAHHERRHWHRHFEAAHAAAAAHAAAHA!! No Mr. Stahahahark!! NAAAHAHAHAO!!” Peter squirmed like a fish out of water, his body instinctively trying to twist away from Tony’s evil scribbling fingers. But no matter which way he turned, it didn’t help much. Tony’s fingers seemed glued to his hollows.

“EEEEAAAAHEHEEHHAAAA!! M-MR STAHAHARK!! IT…IHIHIT REALLY TIHIHAHAHA TIHIHICKLES BAAAAHAHAHD!!”

“That’s the point, kiddo! It’s more—whoa! You are just extra kicky today, aren’t you? FRIDAY, a little help here?”

“NOOOHOHOHO!”

Tony and FRIDAY had switched places; FRIDAY grabbing ahold of Peter’s flailing legs while Tony grabbed the boy’s wrists in one hand. Even as the two switched places, Tony couldn’t help but notice how Peter wasn’t putting up a fight to get away. He could’ve easily gotten up and bolted the second they let go of his limbs, or curl up with his arms wrapped around his torso so they couldn’t bring his arms up anymore, but he just laid there with a silly smile and blushy cheeks. Almost as if he secretly wanted this to keep going.

Tony had to ask the billion dollar question. “Y’know Pete, despite all your complaints, you’re not even putting up a fight to stop me or FRIDAY. Could it be because…you actually like this? You like getting tickled?”

Peter fell silent. He looked anywhere but his mentor’s eyes. He opened his mouth to answer but all that came out was stutters and keyboard smashes.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Really? Look, I’m barely holding down your arms here and you’re not even trying to get away!” Peter’s face felt like was on fire now. “You know you can easily break out of my grip—even FRIDAY’s—and hightail it outta here, buuuut…I’m starting to think you don’t want to. Am I right or what?”

“I-I…” was all that came out of Peter’s mouth. Finally, he sighed and locked eyes with his mentor. His flustered, trembling lip suddenly curled into a crap-eating grin. With a defiant smirk, Peter stuck his tongue out. “Bite me, old man!”

Tony’s mouth formed a perfect O. Oh the kid was so asking for it! Recovering in a millisecond, Tony cracked his knuckled for dramatic effect. “That’s it! You’re finished, kid! You know I’m sensitive about my age!”

Peter actually had the nerve to stick his tongue out at him again.

Okay, so maybe truthfully he didn’t want this playful attack to cease. It was a great stress reliever after the rough week he endured. And if Peter wanted to dig a little deeper into it, while he was being tickled to pieces and screeching at frequencies only dogs should hear, he couldn’t think of all the bad things that had happened—his lab report incident, academic pressure, or even any general insecurities he had as Peter Parker and Spider-Man.

All he could think about in the heat of the moment was the playful ticklish feeling, the waves of dopamine, and the pure fun bonding vibe. So despite all the squealing and squirming, Peter was genuinely having fun. He’d be bummed if Tony stopped so soon. So he had to provoke his mentor some more to keep the fun going.

And that’s just what he did.

Oh, but if only FRIDAY hadn’t been traitorous enough to actually look up other sorts of tickling methods and suggest them to Tony to use against Peter.

“W-Wait! Wahahahit!! NonononoAAAAAAHAHAHEEHEHAHAAAA!! EEEEEHHAAAHAEHE!! THAT FEEHEEHEEHEELS AHAHA—AWFUFUFUL!! *snort* NAAAAAAHEHEAAHAAAAHAHAAA!!”

“Did you just snort, kid?!”

“N-Nohoho!! Shuhuhut uhuhup!! AAAAH! Waitwaitwait!! I tahahahake it baHAAAAAAHAHAAAAA!!”

Better hope that none of the Avengers nor his enemies finds out about Spider-Man’s adorable little weakness.

Cure For a Bad Day—MCU

No thots. Just a silly fluffy Irondad thought I had to turn into a story. :3 If you don’t like, don’t read. But if you’re here for Irondad fluff or just fluffy Marvel tickles, then come on in! OvO

Word Count: 5,000

Summary: After a rough week of school mishaps, Peter starts to doubt his future at being a good student and even being Spider-Man. It’s up to Tony Stark to remind Peter he’s still worth it, and bring back his mentor’s favorite smile. (This is a tickle fic duh, purely platonic)

Lee! Peter

Ler! Tony

If there was one thing Peter Parker was good at, was multitasking. How many other teens could juggle the responsibilities of high school while fighting crime almost every night in the not-so-friendly-neighborhood, and still manage to finish their homework on time for the next day?

Somehow he was able to do both.

But like any other student, he had his challenges. Like today, for example. Peter was in the middle of trying to finish a lab report essay for chemistry class. He was pretty stressed out, as he hadn’t had so much time to work on it for the past three weeks stopping midnight crimes and shenanigans almost four nights a week.

Now, here he was, hunched over at his desk, typing away at his laptop attempting to finish his lab report that was due tomorrow. He was mid-paragraph, stuck on page three out of the required five.

Normally, Peter would rack his science loving brain and throw something together quick, but tonight was different. He was having trouble figuring out more words and what to say in the report.

His eyes were starting to hurt from staring at his computer screen so long. His spine ached from being hunched over like a shrimp in his chair for hours. And his stomach growled; he had skipped dinner and was insistent with himself that he could have time to eat after he got his report done.

He looked at his bedside clock. 10:37pm. Oh come on! I’ll have to go to bed soon and I’m not even close to being done.

Peter sighed. Sometimes, his full time job being Spider-Man could really put a dent into his student life.

There was a knock at his door. “Peter? You alright?” the soft voice of his Aunt asked.

“I’m okay, Aunt May,” Peter stifled a yawn. “Just finishing up homework.”

“You said you were finishing up two hours ago.”

“Well this time, I mean it. I am almost done.”

“Alright if I come in?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

The sight of her tired, stressed, hunched over nephew saddened May. “Oh, Peter, you’ve been at that science report of yours all afternoon. Why not call it a night and get some rest?”

“I can’t,” Peter’s eyes stayed glued to his screen. The blinking curser that sat there unmoving for hours seemed to mock him. “I have to finish this tonight. This thing is worth a lot of my grade this semester.”

“Hmm, okay how about this?” May offered. “I’ll let you knock off school tomorrow, and send a note to your teachers that you’re out sick. It’ll give you an extra day to finish your report.” Her lips ruled into a soft grin. “Maybe after that, you and I can head off to the mall and buy you some more of those Squishables things you secretly like.”

Normally, Peter would laugh and jokingly say what a bad influence she was letting him cut school like that. But tonight, he didn’t even crack a smile. “No thanks. I’ll get this done before I go to sleep. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Aunt May saw that tonight would be one of those nights where Peter wouldn’t budge out of his zombie induced state. So she decided to let him be. “Alright then,” she sighed. “Just please don’t stay up past midnight. I don’t want to get another phone call saying you slept through class and other kids decided to draw on your face.”

“Yeah, will do.”

And with that, she shut the door.

Peter rubbed his eyes with a sigh. “C’mon…c’mon…gotta finish. Ugh! Why can’t I finish?” The teen was just about to give up and call it quits when the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood out on end. His Spidey tingle was going off!

Despite feeling achy and sluggish, he quickly stood up and tore off his clothes, slipping into his Spider-Man costume. He pulled his mask over his face and was about to jump out the window when he stopped himself.

Aunt May might come back to check if I really did go to sleep. Dang it! Ok uhh…oh wait! That’ll work!

Peter grabbed some day old clothes off the floor and shoved them under his blanket, pushing them into a sort of Peter-shaped lump. Hopefully, if his aunt came to check on him she wouldn’t look too closely.

Grabbing his phone, he hopped off the windowsill and swung out into the night.

By the time Peter managed to sneak back into his room through the window, he was exhausted. He felt like he was about to pass out as soon as he stepped into his bedroom.

He flopped onto his bed, lifting his Spidey mask off his sweaty face. He didn’t have the energy to take off his costume just yet. He was so tired.

He had stopped a home break-in coordinated by three criminals. Normally, a crime like a break-in was child’s play to Peter. But after spending the whole week fighting off crime and running on four hours of sleep, and topped with the stress of his recent assignment, Spider-Man suddenly didn’t have the energy to do a lot of fighting tonight.

His web-shooting was uncoordinated, one punch nearly knocked him out, and he appeared to be wobbly when he landed.

Even the criminals seemed to noticed how he wasn’t putting much of a fight, and taunted him while having their weapons pointed at the sleepy hero.

Peter barely managed to stop those three criminals, and earned himself a bruise on his jaw and knee. So by the time the boy made it home, the clock read 1:55am.

Peter wanted to scream in frustration. Well there goes another sleepless night, he thought as he quietly stripped himself out of his Spidey suit and grabbed a T-shirt from his floor pile.

He cringed as his brain calculated the few hours of sleep he would be getting again.

The next day at school turned out to be so much worse. First, Peter was late to his first class due to him sleeping through his many alarms he set for that morning. Next, he ended up forgetting his lunch—and even emergency lunch money—from rushing to get ready earlier. And then, as if that wasn’t enough to put him in a bad mood, he completely forgot about his lab report.

His stomach churned as he heard the teacher announce for everyone to hand in their reports to the front.

“Peter?” The voice of his best friend made him whip around.

“What is it, Ned?”

“What’s up with you?” Ned asked in a hushed whisper. “You look like you haven’t slept in a month, and you’re acting way jittery than normal.” Ned’s eyes widened. “Is it the spider sense?! Is there danger somewhere right now? Do you need me to come up with an excuse so you can get out of here?”

Peter could barely register his friend’s overlapping questions. “No, Ned, I don’t need anything. And it’s not that. I just…” he sighed, burying his face into his sweater covered arms. “Trouble in the neighborhood late at night, and I completely forgot to finish my lab report.”

“What?!” Ned whisper-shouted. “Y’know normally I’d scold you like your aunt does, but you look like you’ve been through enough already.” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Need me to make up some excuse? Save your skin at least a little?”

Peter shook his head miserably. “No point. I’m screwed enough as is here. Total failure.”

“Are you su—“

Their conversation was interrupted by the teacher snapping at them. “Parker? Your report, please.”

Uneasiness filled Peter’s stomach again. It felt borderline nauseous. He slowly walked up to the front desk. “I uh…don’t really have it physically with me right now.” He pointed towards his lab table. “I-It’s on my laptop.”

“Trouble printing it out?” The teacher asked.

“Something like that.” Peter could feel his cheeks growing warm.

The teacher sighed with a head shake. “Well then if you email it to me in the next three minutes, I’ll still give you credit. But next time, Peter, make sure you are able to find a reliable printing source ahead of time when you’re printing your reports. Don’t just try to print them last minute, that’s when these incidents happen.”

“Yes, of course.” Peter swallowed dryly as he shuffled back to his table. His fingers trembled as he opened his laptop, the unfinished pages of his lab report staring back at him. It felt like a punch to the gut. Well…something is better than nothing, right?

After school, the poor exhausted teen wanted nothing more than to go home, face plant onto his bed, and hope his mattress would swallow him up.

He was surprised to see a text message from Happy on his phone screen. Meet at the Avenger’s facility right after school. Your ride is waiting for you out front. New missions are heading your way. :) -Happy

New mission? That perked Peter up a little. At least he could forget about school for the weekend. Sulking in his room would have to wait. Right now, he was curious as to what sort of new mission awaited him at the Avengers’ headquarters!

The car trip didn’t take so much time. It did, however, leave the boy to replay the events that had just happened prior. He slumped in his seat. Suddenly, a new mission with the Avengers didn’t seem to excite him anymore.

Why can’t I just be more responsible? Peter bitterly asked himself. The other Avengers are able to juggle their normal lives and jobs and still manage to fight bad guys all without breaking a sweat. Heck, even Mr. Stark can do it. So why can’t I? *sigh* Am I really that bad of a student? What’s my future going to look like if I can’t even make it through high school?

Ugh! Why is your entire self worth and future determined by one stupid grade?!

Upon arrival, Peter didn’t seem as starry-eyed or ecstatic anymore. At least, that was the noticeable vibe Tony Stark noticed with his young mentee. He, in fact, looked in bad shape. Dark rings circled under his eyes, he looked disheveled like he had been sleeping under a bridge the whole week, and he seemed very anxious. Not the typical anxious-excitement Peter normally projected whenever he heard any mention of a potential new mission.

Tony wrapped an arm around the silently depressed teen. “So how goes it, kid? Survived another week of school?”

Peter scoffed. “Just barely.”

“I hear ya. But hey, cheer up. It looks like a certain web-slinging hero will be tagging along on more serious world-saving missions with the rest of us. Now how’s that upgrade for your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?”

The boy merely shrugged. “I guess it could be good for my rep. So long as I don’t screw anything up again.”

“Hey, look. You just made a couple mistakes, underoos. It happens to all of us when we’re starting out as heroes. But this a fresh start; a chance to really show the others and the world that your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man protects more than just the neighborhood and supermarkets. He protects the world, too.” He gave Peter’s shoulder a shake.

“Okay,” Peter said with a small sigh. Oh how he wished he could get back to sulking in his room right about now.

Tony started to grow more worried about his mentee that afternoon. He assumed the kid had a bad day at school or was simply tired after a long week, but this seemed much worse.

Peter didn’t go on mini gush-rants about random things. He didn’t spit out any science jokes or puns. He didn’t even quote any old movies. Peter Parker always quoted his vintage iconic quips and lines. It was like his second vocabulary—first vocabulary being talking in only Star Wars lines.

Something was really wrong. And Stark was not going to wait around any longer to find out.

When Tony finally found Peter, he was sitting upside down from the corner of the ceiling, the hood of his sweater almost covering his face, earbuds in and mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“Peter?”

Said teen took his earbuds out. His gaze softened when he met eyes with his mentor. “Oh, hey Mr. Stark. What brings you here?”

“That’s just what I want to ask you, kid. What are you doing up there by yourself?”

Peter shrugged. “Bored.”

“Bored?! In the freakin’ Avengers’ facility?”

“Well, sorry. Guess I’m just a little too tired today.”

He’s trying to avoid my question, Tony thought. “A better question would be, why have you been moping around since you got here? Happy even said that you were so quiet in the car ride here. No offense, kid, but you’re never the quiet type. Especially around Happy. So what gives?”

The boy averted his game. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just tired like I said. Y’know, keeping the neighborhood safe almost every night really drains your energy.”

“Cut the charades, kid,” Tony said firmly. “I wanna know what’s up with you. I’ve known you long enough to know that even with your nighttime gig as Spider-Man, you somehow always have enough energy to set Happy’s blood pressure spiraling, and annoy the rest of the Avengers with your weird vine refreshes and those picture things you call memes.”

Peter averted his gaze. How could he tell his mentor and biggest idol all the crappy events that took place that week? It wasn’t like it was a serious topic. It was just his own failure to be responsible.

“I don’t know,” he answered quietly.”

“Hmm…let me guess. Trouble at school?”

Peter looked up.” Maybe?”

“Alright, give me names here. A description of the punk. Who’s organs do I have to obliterate?”

“What? No, no, no, it’s not like that, Mr. Stark,” Peter quickly objected. “It’s just…rough days at school is all. And my student life.”

“I see. Want to come down from there and talk about it? I’ll have Happy make us some hot chocolate.”

“Alright.”

The warm hot chocolate was very comforting. After the long harsh week of events, a hot comforting drink was just what Peter needed. And it helped ease the hesitance he had earlier so he was able to come clean about what had happened.

“Wow,” Tony said, finally breaking the silence. “It sounds like the week really treated you terribly.”

“Tell me about it.” Peter fixed his gaze on his cup.

“Hey, listen, kid. You just had a bad week. Things will get better. You gotta believe that.”

The teen hero frowned. “How do you know I won’t keep failing? I’ve been screwing up nonstop this entire week. And even when I try to do better, everything always turns out worse. It’s like the universe hates me because I’m Spider-Man.”

Before Tony could respond, Peter kept talking. “And its so dumb, too. This whole situation. I’m sitting here whining about something that could’ve been avoidable if I had been a more responsible student. There’s no one to blame but me. And look at you, Mr. Stark. If you were in my shoes, you wouldn’t be a failing student just because you’re Ironman. I just want to do better, but I don’t feel like I can. And I know the school system doesn’t believe I can either.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Tony protested. “You’re a brilliant kid, Peter. Yes, you’re going to hit roadblocks along the way with your full time gig as Spider-Man and as a full time student, but you’re going to be fine. You just need a little encouragement. When you’re out there saving the neighborhood and face-to-face with an enemy that makes you feel like it’s hopeless, I’ve noticed that you never back down. No matter how difficult it is. This right here isn’t any different.

And if the crappy school system that’s been putting too much pressure on their students and treating them like garbage doesn’t believe in you, I do. I believe you can do it, Peter. You’re so much stronger than you think you are.”

Peter almost wanted to tear up at the words his mentor was telling him. Damn, he really was good at this inspirational uplifting speech thing. Maybe even better than Captain America.

He couldn’t stop the tears, though. He had been feeling so emotional this entire week and after hearing Tony freakin’ Stark rant about how he was worth it despite everything he was feeling, Peter really needed to let some tears out.

Seeing the boy’s eyes fill with tears made Tony panic. Had he made the kid feel worse with his words? “Oh god, are you alright? Did i go too far with that?”

Peter let out a breathy laugh. “No, no, you’re good.” He sniffed, and wiped his tears with his sweater sleeve. “Sorry I got emotional back there. Your uplifting speech just got me teary-eyed. Thanks, Mr. Stark. I guess I really needed to hear that.”

Tony gave the teen’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Anytime, kiddo. Glad I could help. Now, I do want to help out with your school problem a little so you’re not feeling traumatized Monday morning.”

The boy tilted his head like a curious puppy. “Huh? What do you mean help out?”

“Well I sort of did a little research on what your next assignments for the week are going to be on for your classes. And I took the liberty to have FRIDAY complete next week’s assignments so you’ll have the entire week off to not worry about your homework.”

“You…wait, are you saying that you had FRIDAY hack into my teachers’ lesson plans and did all my homework for me?!”

Tony nodded, stirring his half drunk mug with a spoon. “Yup. Your homework’s done with all the right answers so it’ll guarantee to bring your grades back up to an A+.” He paused. “Well, an A- to make it seem like you did it.”

Peter didn’t know if he should feel grateful or disbelief. “I-I…thank you? I guess?”

Tony smirked. “What, that’s it? I do you a favor here so you can have the week off. You can have more time to focus on your web-slinging career, or use the extra time to take a nap in home room, or stare at girls more between classes.”

Peter blushed at that last comment. “Okay, fine. Thank you, Mr. Stark. I really appreciate it.” For the first time that week, Peter smiled. A genuine warm smile. Then his face melted to concern. “Wait…do you think that it’s cheating?”

“Uhh….nah,” Tony assured him with a wave of his hand. “Hey, as long as it gets you the grades you deserve. Besides, you aren’t even going to use 90% of the crap they teach you in school. You’re gonna forget it immediately anyways.”

Peter giggled, covering his mouth with his sleeve. “Oh my god, Mr. Stark. You’re just as a bad influence as May.”

“Good! Maybe you can learn something here about all the shortcuts and loopholes to high school.”

“There are noho loopholes or shortcuhuhuts to high school!”

“Hell yeah there are! How do you think I got to where I am today?” Tony gestured to himself. “You think all of this happened by being a full time student? No way. High school did nothing to help me be who I am today. All it did was give me anxiety, student debt, and unrealistic expectations on what I needed to thrive in the real world. Oh yeah, high school teaches you nothing on how to adult or pay your bills. But hey, at least they teach you that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, right?”

Peter could not stop his giggles anymore. His giggles turned to laughter, and even while trying to muffle them through his sleeves, Tony could see the corner of his smile and the blush that dusted his cheeks.

It was always so easy to make the kid laugh, and Tony always liked to take advantage of it every time.

“Y-You’re terrihihible, Mr. Stark!” Peter said through his bright laughter. “A bahahad influence! Y-You’re even worse thahahn Loki!”

“Excuuuuse me?!” Tony pretended to be offended. He sat up, scraping the chair back, which made Peter’s eyes widen in alarm.

“Wait, no!” Peter surprised Tony by flipping onto the ceiling. “Don’t—Don’t tickle me, Mr. Stark!” Peter had had enough recent experience knowing what that look meant every time Tony got up from his seat. Having his own mentor know of his one dreaded weakness—the fact that he was insanely ticklish—and using that to mess with him anytime he got depressed or a little too snarky always flustered him to bits.

Tony grinned up at the spider teen on the ceiling. “Huh? Tickle you? Now why on earth would I do that? Oh right, because your ticklishness got dialed up to eleven from the spider bite. Isn’t that what you told me?”

Peter’s blush darkened. “S-Stop saying that so casually! I now what you’re up to!”

“Hey, I’m not up to anything. And honestly, I wasn’t going to tickle you.” A sinister smirk spread across his mentor’s face. “But since that was the first thought that crossed your mind…”

Peter’s tummy did fluttery flip flops. “Oh c’mon!! Mr. Stark nohoho! Dohohon’t you dare!”

“Too late. FRIDAY, a little help?”

“Yep. On it.”

The poor flustered teen squealed in alarm as one of Tony’s Ironman suits came flying over to him, trying to pry him off the ceiling. It was surprisingly easy, as Peter was already too giggly and flustered to concentrate on his sticking to the ceiling.

With Peter off the ceiling, he was dumped ungracefully onto the floor in front of Tony where the Iron suit immediately grabbed and pinned the kid’s wrists above his head.

“What the—FRIDAY you traitohohor!” Peter squawked. He pulled on his wrists, internally pouting that his spider strength wasn’t working in that moment.

“Hey now, don’t you insult FRIDAY,” Tony playfully scolded with a poke to the boy’s stomach. Peter squeaked at the touch. “We’re just here to help you out. I know how rough it’s been with school lately, and I don’t want to lose my underoos just because of that. You’ve been real upset ever since you got here and I know you’ve been upset all week. So no more of that now. You should know the Avengers’ facility is a no-sadness zone!”

And with that said, Tony right away scribbled both hands into his kid’s belly, making Peter screech.

“EeeAAAHAAaahahaaa! HeHEHE—Heyyyy! No faHAHAhahair!” Peter thrashed and kicked, instinctively trying to pull his arms down to no avail. “Mr. Stahahark! Nohoho pleasHEEAheeheehease!”

“Sorry, no can do, kiddo,” Tony casually answered over his mentee’s squeaky laughter. “I haven’t seen my underoos’ favorite smile in forever so I’m making up for lost time!”

“B-But nohohot like tha—HAAAHA! Heheheyyy!” Peter arched his back as Tony’s fingers crept up to his ribs. His blush now spread to the tips of his ears. He was cursing internally at how his Spidey strength was suddenly no longer there as he was laughing like a maniac.

Any other intense situation, Spider-Man would be able to easily get himself out of, but this was different. The ticklish sensations buzzing throughout his nervous system plus all his laughing was sapping any strength he had left, including his spider strength.

As Tony let his fingers inch closer to the teen’s underarms, he was playfully shocked when Peter tried to bite him. He pulled his hands back with a gasp.

“Whoa! What the heck was that?! What are you, a biting tarantula now?”

“You were getting too close to my armpits!” Peter shot back.

“Ohhhh I see.” Tony flashed him an evil grin that reminded Peter of that creepy, murderous knife-hiding doll from that 80s movie that always came back from the dead. “That’s your death spot, isn’t it?”

Peter shifted uncomfortably, his blush darkening. “N-No..?”

“Wrong answer.”

“AAAAAAHHERRHWHRHFEAAHAAAAAHAAAHA!! No Mr. Stahahahark!! NAAAHAHAHAO!!” Peter squirmed like a fish out of water, his body instinctively trying to twist away from Tony’s evil scribbling fingers. But no matter which way he turned, it didn’t help much. Tony’s fingers seemed glued to his hollows.

“EEEEAAAAHEHEEHHAAAA!! M-MR STAHAHARK!! IT…IHIHIT REALLY TIHIHAHAHA TIHIHICKLES BAAAAHAHAHD!!”

“That’s the point, kiddo! It’s more—whoa! You are just extra kicky today, aren’t you? FRIDAY, a little help here?”

“NOOOHOHOHO!”

Tony and FRIDAY had switched places; FRIDAY grabbing ahold of Peter’s flailing legs while Tony grabbed the boy’s wrists in one hand. Even as the two switched places, Tony couldn’t help but notice how Peter wasn’t putting up a fight to get away. He could’ve easily gotten up and bolted the second they let go of his limbs, or curl up with his arms wrapped around his torso so they couldn’t bring his arms up anymore, but he just laid there with a silly smile and blushy cheeks. Almost as if he secretly wanted this to keep going.

Tony had to ask the billion dollar question. “Y’know Pete, despite all your complaints, you’re not even putting up a fight to stop me or FRIDAY. Could it be because…you actually like this? You like getting tickled?”

Peter fell silent. He looked anywhere but his mentor’s eyes. He opened his mouth to answer but all that came out was stutters and keyboard smashes.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Really? Look, I’m barely holding down your arms here and you’re not even trying to get away!” Peter’s face felt like was on fire now. “You know you can easily break out of my grip—even FRIDAY’s—and hightail it outta here, buuuut…I’m starting to think you don’t want to. Am I right or what?”

“I-I…” was all that came out of Peter’s mouth. Finally, he sighed and locked eyes with his mentor. His flustered, trembling lip suddenly curled into a crap-eating grin. With a defiant smirk, Peter stuck his tongue out. “Bite me, old man!”

Tony’s mouth formed a perfect O. Oh the kid was so asking for it! Recovering in a millisecond, Tony cracked his knuckled for dramatic effect. “That’s it! You’re finished, kid! You know I’m sensitive about my age!”

Peter actually had the nerve to stick his tongue out at him again.

Okay, so maybe truthfully he didn’t want this playful attack to cease. It was a great stress reliever after the rough week he endured. And if Peter wanted to dig a little deeper into it, while he was being tickled to pieces and screeching at frequencies only dogs should hear, he couldn’t think of all the bad things that had happened—his lab report incident, academic pressure, or even any general insecurities he had as Peter Parker and Spider-Man.

All he could think about in the heat of the moment was the playful ticklish feeling, the waves of dopamine, and the pure fun bonding vibe. So despite all the squealing and squirming, Peter was genuinely having fun. He’d be bummed if Tony stopped so soon. So he had to provoke his mentor some more to keep the fun going.

And that’s just what he did.

Oh, but if only FRIDAY hadn’t been traitorous enough to actually look up other sorts of tickling methods and suggest them to Tony to use against Peter.

“W-Wait! Wahahahit!! NonononoAAAAAAHAHAHEEHEHAHAAAA!! EEEEEHHAAAHAEHE!! THAT FEEHEEHEEHEELS AHAHA—AWFUFUFUL!! *snort* NAAAAAAHEHEAAHAAAAHAHAAA!!”

“Did you just snort, kid?!”

“N-Nohoho!! Shuhuhut uhuhup!! AAAAH! Waitwaitwait!! I tahahahake it baHAAAAAAHAHAAAAA!!”

Better hope that none of the Avengers nor his enemies finds out about Spider-Man’s adorable little weakness.

TickleTober 2023 🎃

Presented by @august-anon

DAY 2: Accidental (Marvel)

Lee!Peter 1

Lers!Peter 2 & 3

Summary: An innocent brotherly cuddle pile between the three Spider-bros suddenly turns ticklish when the older Peters make an interesting discovery about their youngest brother.

So cuddly…so warm.

A collection of content sighs filled the air of the oldest Peter’s apartment. The three Spider-Men were currently cuddled up next to each other in a makeshift blanket nest that the younger two begged Peter 2 to let them set up.

And so here they were: the oldest Peter in the middle of the cuddle pile with his two younger brothers snuggled up on either side of him. He had his arms wrapped around the youngsters, his fingers gently running through their fluffy hair.

“Mmm…this is nice,” the middle Peter said. The youngest hummed happily in agreement. “This is honestly like, free therapy right here.”

Peter 2 chuckled. “Aww. As long as it makes you guys happy. I’ll admit, this brotherly cuddle nest you guys set up really is nice. I think we were all due for a nice cuddle. Especially our newest little Spidey here.” He gave a squeeze to the youngest Peter.

“Heyyyy,” Peter 1 whined. “I’m not that little.”

“Are you kidding? You’re our adorable baby bro!” Peter 3 cooed, reaching over to ruffle the younger’s hair.

“Aaah! Heheyyy! Quit ihit!”

“Alright you two, relax,” Peter 2 said with a fond eye roll. “But he’s got a point, little Pete. You technically are the baby brother of our trio.” The youngest pouted with a huff. “Hey, don’t take it in a bad way. It just means you’ll get double the hugs and affections because you’re so cute!” Peter 2 booped the youngest’s nose.

Peter 1 rolled his eyes. “C’mon guys, you both treat me like I’m five. Have you forgotten that I’m frickin’ Spider-Man?”

“An adorable Spider-Man!” The middle brother chirped. He sat up from the cuddle pile to playfully squish the littlest Peter’s cheeks. “I don’t know how you could ever have any enemies, little bro. You’re too cute! How can your enemies not spare you or constantly stay mad at you if you’re this adorable?”

The teasing combined with the face squishes was making Peter 1 blush and let out involuntary giggles. “S-Stohohop, you weirdo!”

Peter 3 kept talking. “I mean look at him, Dos! If you were his enemy, would you wanna keep fighting this kid?”

The oldest couln’t help but laugh at the unfolding predicament. “No, definitely not. If anything, I think it would make me want to do this instead for all the times he’s foiled my plans!” He surprised the youngest Spidey by suddenly scooping him up in an upside down hug, making Peter 1 squeal as he now dangled upside down.

“Hehehey! Put me dowwwn!” Peter 1 couldn’t stop giggling. The silliness of being upside down made him feel like a little kid again.

The little wholesome moment was interrupted when Peter 2 gave a playful squeeze to the younger’s sides. The reaction was instantaneous; Peter 1 squeaked loudly and kicked out his legs, almost hitting his older brother in the face.

The room fell silent. Finally, Peter 3 broke the silence. “What was that? Did you just squeak, lil’ Pete?”

The youngest blushed. “Uhhm…n-no..?”

“Then what was that noise? Did that hurt when I touched you there?” The oldest Peter frowned with concern. “I’m sorry if I did.”

“N-No its not that..! It’s—I’m just—uhm…”

When the littlest brother didn’t respond, Peter 2 gave another experimental squeeze in the same spot and the same thing happened; Peter 1 jolted with another loud squeak. Crap-eating grins spread across the two older Spider brothers’ faces.

“Ohh I think I know what it is,” the oldest said in a sing-song voice.

“I think a certain little Spider-bro is ticklish~” Peter 3 sang.

Peter 1’s blush darkened. He rapidly shook his head, attempting to squirm out of the upside down hug with no luck. “N-No I’m not! Get a-away from me! Both of you!”

“Gosh, he’s squirming so much,” Peter 2 said with a huff.

“Why not put him down?” the middle Peter suggested.

“No! Nohoho c’mon guys!” In a matter of seconds, Peter 1 was dumped onto the pile of blankets and immediately pinned by his older brothers. His oldest brother had him trapped in his lap; wrists grabbed and pinned above his head. And his other older brother took a seat by his legs, resting his fingers on his kneecaps. “Guhuhuys! Guys pleaheeheehease! y-you don’t have to—EEEEHP!!”

Peter 1 squealed as his sides were tased. The culprit turned out to be his cheeky middle brother.

“And just how come you never told us about this, little Spidey?”

“Yeah, how come you didn’t tell us our little bro was ticklish?”

“I-I dihihidn’t know! And I’m not even tickliAAAAHA!” His lie was cut short when the fingers that tased his sides now vibrated and stayed glued in that spot. “NAAAHAhahaheeHEEE! Qhuihihit thaHAAhat!”

“Awww someone’s not a very good liar~” Peter 3 sing-songed. He moved his fingers upward, spidering them to Peter 1’s ribs next. He grinned when he saw how his little brother twitched with a girly squeal.

Feeling a bit left out of the playful banter, the oldest Spider-Man finally joined in. His free hand fluttered against Peter 1’s neck, resulting in another squeal and leg kick.

“Whoa! Easy there, little bro,” exclaimed Peter 3. “Don’t kick me.”

“I-I caHAHAhan’t hehehelp ihihit!” Peter 1 squeaked out. His blushy face was really starting to rival his Spidey suit. Out of all the embarrassing things his brothers could’ve discovered and exploited, it just had to be this one.

Things got worse when the middle Peter decided to scribble across his belly and the oldest fluttered his fingers under his arm.

“EEAAAHEHEEEHAHAAAA!! NAHAHAO N-Not thEHEHhere!!”

“Not where?” Both Peters innocently asked.

“T-Thehehehere!! Both…Both plahahahaces!!”

“Awww!!” Peter 3 couldn’t help but coo. “Ticklish tummy and armpits?” The littlest shook his head rapidly as more giggles poured out. “Awww! We got a ticklish tummy and armpits here! How cuuuute!”

“S-StAHAhap teasing, you jeheherk!” Peter 1 giggle-whined.

“Peter Dos, do you hear that sass?” The middle Spidey pretended to be offended.

“Yeah, I heard it. And I don’t think I like that tone you’re using, little bro.”

Both spider brothers cracked their knuckles for dramatic effect before plunging their fingers down and tickling anywhere they could reach: underarms, in between ribs, behind the knees, even Peter 3 got evil enough to slip his hands under his squealing bro’s shirt to scribble at his bare tummy.

It was maddening. It was torture. But it was…fun. Gosh, how long has it been since Peter 1 even laughed like this? A long time, in fact. Long before Mr. Stark left.

But here he was now, red faced and giggling brightly. Instinctively kicking and squirming, but not putting up too much of a fight to get away. Turns out, it’s not so bad letting his older spider counterparts know of his one little weakness. It was fun, and it made him feel genuinely happy to get to play around with the other Peters like this after everything.

So yeah. It’s not so bad letting his ticklishness be exposed and exploited. As long as they didn’t find out about his extra sensitive belly button or that one spot right under his arm and above his highest rib—oh nope. Too late.

There’s nothing Peter 1 can hide from his counterpart brothers, apparently. And that especially includes tickle spots. Ohh he was so getting them back for this!

THE END :3

DAY 6: Chase ˚✧₊⁎°.⁎⁺༚ (Star Wars: The Clone Wars)

TickleTober 2023 🎃

Presented by @august-anon

A/N: These are NOT my OCs! All credits go to my bestie on Insta, who is the rightful creator of these mentioned characters (Arlo, Vale, & Tarquin) and has let me use them for this prompt. Adorable father-son fluff ahead! (Additionally, the Inquisitor character that gets mentioned here belongs to ME. She’s my OC.)

Lee!OC (Arlo)

Ler!OC (Vale)

Words: 1,800

Summary: A certain little clone cadet decided to prank his surrogate father, not realizing the ticklish consequences that he’d have to endure right after.

“Aaaah!”

“Arlo, get back here!”

“No wahahay! I know what you’re going to do!”

“Then stop running!”

“Nohoho!”

This playful goose chase had been going on for the past twenty minutes. Commander Vale was starting to feel exhausted, but he still had a mischievous clone kid to catch.

Earlier that day, Vale’s adopted clone trooper son, Arlo, kept begging him to do something fun with him as he was bored. Vale tried to assure Arlo that he would have time for fun later as he still had a bunch of “boring adult data pads” to fill out. But Arlo was impatient. He had been itching to spend some quality time together with his surrogate father ever since his dad’s team came back from another long mission fighting the scary Sith Lord Inquisitor he heard the other troopers talk about.

But that always made Arlo confused because he could’ve sworn he heard his father sigh fondly at the Inquisitor’s profile picture on the monitors. And the way he sometimes talked about her to his Jedi best friend, Tarquin, it almost sounded like he…liked her?

Whatever the kriff Vale had going on with that Sith Lord was none of his business. All Arlo cared about was catching up with his space papa, and hopefully getting to do something fun with him.

But when all his pouting, whining, and even fake tears didn’t work, Arlo huffed to himself. How was he supposed to feel like he had a dad if Vale could never have time for him anymore?

As Arlo paced around the Rebellion base, looking for something to do, a rare streak of mischief suddenly struck him. It orbited around his head like a TIE fighter, the way all great ideas do. Certainly this particular playful idea wouldn’t go unnoticed by Vale.

And so, here was where the cheeky little clone was at; currently being chased by his not-so-pleased father. Arlo decided it would be hilarious to not only snag his papa’s com link and impersonate him on the team’s channel, but to also decorate his helmet with stick on googly eyes and glittery stickers.

The wild goose chase continued; Arlo hopping over tables and any other obstacles while Vale was starting to lose his breath at this point. How in the Galaxy was this kid able to outrun him with all of Vale’s experience chasing opponents and being chased by enemies that were much bigger than him? Being out-runned by a small clone trooper kid wasn’t the best look for his reputation.

If this kid is going to tire me out by having me chase him all day, then I better tire him out first! Vale thought. But how? Every breathless threat he threw at him just made Arlo giggle more. Obviously, he wasn’t going to take him seriously in this position. Unless…

Arlo skidded to a stop, laughing at his breathless panting father yards behind him. “Haha! You can’t even keep up!”

“Maybe…not…right now, but…in a few seconds…you won’t be able to run anymore.”

“Huh?” Arlo tilted his head like a curious tooka. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means…” Vale slowly lifted his head, revealing the devilish grin. He flexed his fingers, wiggling them like claws. “You have ten seconds to run before I catch you! And if I do catch you, then…” he wiggled his fingers again.

That was Arlo’s cue to take off running again. Except this time, he wasn’t running as fast or feeling so confident anymore. He knew that look, far too well. He should’ve expected Vale to resort to that for his prank. But did he really want to get away that badly? Maybe. But maybe not too much?

“…Then stop running!”

“Nohoho!”

“Arlo!”

“Get awahahay! I know what you’re going to do!”

“Then why are you still running?”

“‘Cause you keep chahahasing me!”

A couple times, Vale almost succeeded in grabbing the smaller clone, but he purposely let him slip past his hands at the last second to keep the game going. He had to admit, he didn’t want this playful moment to end so quickly. The work he needed to finish on the data pad was important, but not as important as this right now.

After a few more turns, Arlo hit a dead end. He frantically whipped around, but his only exit escape was blocked by Vale. He was trapped.

As a last resort, he shakily held out his hands in defense as Vale cornered him. Vale raised an eyebrow. “You really think that’s going to stop me?”

Arlo giggled nervously. “Mahahaybe?”

Vale just shook his head and made a grab for the small boy. Arlo shrieked as he was hoisted up and tossed over Vale’s shoulder. He kicked his legs and pounded his little fists against Vale’s back. “Puhut me dohohown!”

“Oh sure, I’ll put you down,” Vale said, entering his own quarters. He dumped Arlo unceremoniously onto the bed. “All right, spill it.”

“W-Whahat?” Arlo sat up.

“What’s this wild chase really about, hm? You don’t usually pull these kinds of shenanigans unless you’re with your teammates—which you aren’t right now. So what’s up?”

Arlo fell quiet. “Well…I don’t know.”

“C’mon, try me.”

The little clone sighed. “Okay…I guess because I just wanted to spend time with you. Y’know, fun time like we used to do. I know you have your missions and other teammates to think about, but you always had time for me in the end. And um…” he twiddled his fingers, voice getting soft. “Now that you seem to be fangirlingover that Sith Inquisitor lately…you always seem too busy for me.”

Vale could feel his cheeks suddenly grow warm. He rubbed at his neck, trying to mask his awkwardness with a cough. “Arlo, listen. I’m not ‘fangirling’ if that’s what you’re thinking. She’s a Sith Lord. It’s my job to track her down whenever she tries to spread her Galactic Empire disease on other planets.”

Arlo huffed. “You stare at her profile picture every time on the monitors! And I’ve heard you tell Tarquin about that ‘sparkly look in her eyes’ she gives you. What’s that even about?”

Vale rubbed his temples. He had to start locking the doors to keep his nosy kid from eavesdropping. “Ugh, Arlo…that’s none of your concern right now. And in the future, I’d appreciate it if you don’t eavesdrop on things you don’t understand at this age. But back to you. You really think because of my missions, I’m not going to spend time with you anymore?”

Arlo shrugged. Vale’s gaze saddened. He pulled the smaller clone into his lap for a hug. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere, alright kiddo? No matter how messed up the galaxy gets or whatever missions I get called for, I’ll never ever forget you. You’re my ad’ika. Nothing could ever be as important as you, son.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. Cross my heart, and hope to fly, stick a lightsaber in my eye.”

They touched foreheads, enjoying the warm snuggly embrace in silence. Until Vale broke that silence. “You know, I still have to get you back for those pranks, right?”

Arlo’s eyes widened. “W-What?! No you don’t!”

“Oh, yes I do.” Vale’s grip on him tightened.

“C’mon! I thought we just talked it out!”

“Oh, we did. But a stunt like that towards me does not go unpunished!”

“Nohoho!” Arlo managed to wriggle out of Vale’s grip, and made a mad dash to the door. He would’ve made it out if Vale hadn’t leaped forward and grabbed his ankles, dragging him back into the room. Arlo desperately tried to claw his way out as he was dragged backwards, like someone in a horror movie fighting for their life against some horrible monster or creature.

He shrieked as he was tossed onto the bed again. Vale didn’t waste anymore time and dug his fingers into his kid’s sides.

Arlo squealed. “EeeEEEEEHEEheheee! No! Nohoho! Nohohot fair!”

“What, would you rather have me move up…here?” Vale moved his hands higher to tase at the smaller clone’s ribs. “This better?”

“AAAAHEeeheeAAAhahahaaaa!! Ihihit’s nAAAhat! Thahahat’s soho much wo—HAAAHA—worse!!”

This wasn’t anything like the usual gentle playful tickles Vale gave him. Like the soft pokes to the side whenever Arlo was getting frustrated at target shooting practice, or the playful scribbles to his stomach or feet to get him to go to bed. No, this was a whole other level of intensity!

Vale kept clawing at his rib cage, making sure to scratch in between each bone and even knead at his back ribs. It was just maddening.

“NAAAAHEEAAAHahaaahaAAAA!! N-Nohoho wait!! Wa—HEEEAAAAHAHA!! WaHAHAHAIT!! HeheHEEAAAHEEEEHEE!! NAHAHAHO!! EEEEEEEHEEHEEEEE!!”

It couldn’t possibly get any worse than this, right?

Apparently, it could. Because Vale suddenly switched tactics, shoving one hand under Arlo’s arm and forming a claw with his other hand, vibrating it right into his tummy.

Arlo arched his back with a loud squeal-screech.

“HEEEEAAAAAHEAHAAAAAHAAA!! NAHAHAHAAAAAA!! V-VALE!! VAHAAAALE!! NAHAHAHAO!! That’s….that’s—EEEEEK!! EEEEEEHAAAAAHEEEEHEEHEHEEE!!”

“Hm? It’s what?” Vale innocently asked, as if he wasn’t physically torturing his kid right now. Instead of letting him answer, Vale finished it off by shoving the boy’s shirt up, and blowing a long fat raspberry directly against his belly button.

Arlo screamed. “NAAAAAAAAAHAHAAAAEEEEEAAAAA!!” He frantically kicked his legs out and started instinctively pulling on his dad’s hair.

Vale lifted his head, wincing. “Ow! Ow! Okay, heh, I think you’ve had enough for one night. Can you let go now?”

Arlo let his arms collapse against the bed as he panted heavily. “You…that was…that was torture..!”

Vale grinned, ruffling the clone boy’s hair. “Consider it a lesson of what happens when you prank your commanding officer. And, also remembering how much I love you, ad’ika. I love you more than all the stars in the galaxy.”

Arlo felt his heart soar. He happily glomped Vale in a soft tackle hug. “I love you too, Dad! More than all the blue milk and Mantel Mix in the entire galaxy!”

Vale chuckled and squeezed him a little tighter. “Now then, let’s get you to bed. I bet you must pretty tired after all that running and laughing.”

Arlo tapped his chin in thought. “Actually…I’m not. ‘Cause you got me thinking about blue milk and Mantel Mix now!”

Vale rolled his eyes. “Ohhh no, you are not eating either of that stuff right now.”

“Aww why not?”

“Why no—because if you eat any Mantel Mix or blue milk, you’re going to be hyper for the next couple hours and you need to sleep.”

“Hmph…what if I just have half a cup of blue milk and just a handful of Mantel Mix?” The boy gave pleading eyes that rivaled a tooka’s.

“No, Arlo!”

“Hey, don’t we keep some in the lounge room?”

“Arlo…”

“I remember now! You and Tarquin hide it in the very back of the cupboards!”

“Arlo!”

The small clone simply stuck his tongue out and raced out of the room, giggling, “Can’t stop me now!”

Vale shook his head with a sigh and a smile. He got up and ran after his boy. Looks like he was going to have to give him an extra long tickling to fully tire him out tonight.

…And find a new hiding place for the blue milk and Mantel Mix.

THE END (*´꒳`*) ♡

DAY 9: Lie ˚✧₊⁎・⁎⁺˳✧༚ (Marvel)

TickleTober 2023 🎃

Presented by @august-anon

Lee!Peter 3

Ler!Doc Ock

Words: 2,400

Summary: Spider-Man’s snarky quips have always helped him out of intense situations. Except when one particular Spider-Man (Peter 3) quickly realizes that his iconic quips aren’t enough to hide the silly weakness he “totally doesn’t have” from a certain eight-limbed, but surprisingly playful, scientist.

Peter 3 hummed to himself as he dangled upside down on one of the infamous actuators of Doctor Octavius. He never thought he’d be casually sitting in the same room with the once notorious villain from Peter 2’s universe.

The three Spider brothers had decided to hang out together earlier that day in the oldest Peter’s world. Except, Peter 2 had forgotten that he had to help assist Otto in the lab that same day.

“Aw don’t tell me you’re secretly helping him build another doomsday machine,” Peter 3 had joked.

The oldest rolled his eyes. “Relax. He’s dropped out of the villain gig for good. I was only supposed to help him sort and organize stuff around the lab, that’s all.”

The youngest Peter pouted. “Awww so what does that mean? You won’t be able to hang out today?”

Peter 2 was about to say something when the younger spiders both gave him their best puppy dog eyes stare. He grimaced. He could never deny his little bros with those looks. “Okay, look,” he finally said with a sigh. “Even though I’m supposed to help Otto today, I guess…you guys can…tag along too? As long as you don’t break anything, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind your guys’ company.”

“Alright!” The younger brothers cheered. “Let’s go!”

Things went smoothly upon arrival. Doctor Octavius was a bit surprised that all three Peter Parkers showed up, but he didn’t mind. While he and his Peter worked away at sorting through cabinets and desk drawers, the doctor let the younger Peters play around with his metal tentacles to keep them occupied.

Peter 1 was having a blast; swinging and dangling from the actuators, and letting them hold and lift him up.

Peter 3, however, wasn’t exactly having the same amount of fun. He simply sat down on a nearby swivel chair, pretending to be occupied with his web shooters. He was still a little unnerved about Doctor Octavius.

Okay, he had to admit, those artificially intelligent metal arms of his were really cool in a way. But they still seemed kind of…scary? Intimidating? The way those pointy claws curled and snapped shut, and the fact that were intelligent with a mind of their own that used to take control of their maker’s mind. Shudder.

It wasn’t until Peter 2 announced for a coffee break, that got the younger Spider bros’ attention.

“I’m just going to grab a couple coffees from Starbucks for us,” he said while grabbing his coat. “Anyone want anything from there?”

“Oooh! Oooh!” Peter 1 frantically waved from his upside down position on the actuators. “I’ll take a mango dragonfruit lemonade! Make it a venti!”

“Got it. Peter 3? You want anything?”

Said Peter hummed in thought. “Umm…a mocha cookie crumble for me. Make mine a venti, too.”

Peter 2 nodded. “Got it.”

The youngest spider chirped. “Wait! Can I come with you? You might need an extra pair of hands to carry all the drinks, heh.”

“Good thinking, little bro.”

“Awesome! Okay, uhh…can you guys let me go?” Peter 1 sheepishly asked the clingy actuators. They whirred understandingly and set him down, and all took a turn to give him a quick hair ruffle.

“You guys need me to come, too?” Peter 3 asked, getting up from his spot.

“Actually…” said the oldest. “Peter 1 and I can handle it. Thanks, though. In the meantime, you can hang back here in the lab. We won’t be long.”

“You can chill out here with Doc’s cool arms!” Peter 1 chirped. “They’re really fun to be around. Super clingy, too, but affectionate.”

“Oh. Okay then…” the middle brother eyed the mechanical arms wearily from the corner of his eye.

Peter 2 wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Hey, I know what you’re thinking. There’s no need to be afraid or intimidated by him. It’s all good now. I know you don’t know Doc as well as I do or even like Peter 1 has gotten to lately, but this is a chance to get to know him, too. Oh, and don’t be scared about those metal arms of his. They won’t bite.”

Peter 3 rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Just go get my coffee already. I need my caffeine!”

“Relax, bossy,” the oldest said with a poke to the middle’s ribs. “We’ll be back in a little bit.”

Peter 3 flinched and bit back a smile. It got super quiet in the lab now that the other two left. It was a little too quiet for Peter 3.

Doc Ock noticed how uneasy the middle Peter looked. He gave a little sigh. He must still be intimidated by me. He couldn’t blame the young Spider-Man. He knew he must’ve always looked intimidating to anyone who came across him.

But still, he didn’t want the young Parker to be afraid of him forever. Maybe his Peter’s suggestion earlier about leaving the two of them alone wasn’t such a great idea after all.

Then one of his nearby actuators chirped. Oh, yes. I almost forgot about that. Let’s just hope that what my Peter says about him is indeed true.

The scientist cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence. “Y’know, you can have a look around my laboratory if you’d like. You don’t have to be confined to one spot.”

Peter 3 nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Octavius shyly extended a metal tentacle towards him. “Would you…like to have a seat?” I know your other counterparts really enjoy it. Especially the littlest Peter.”

The middle Spidey hesitated or a moment. “Well…okay.” He climbed on top of the extended actuator. It suddenly lifted him up high off the ground. “W-Whoa! What the heck?!”

Doc Ock had to bite back a smile. “Sorry. Too high?” The actuator lowered. “That better?”

Peter 3 nodded. Feeling a little more relaxed, he let himself instinctively dangle upside down from the metal arm. Huh…he had to admit, this was nice. “Yeah. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. Sometimes I forget those metal arms of yours have a mind of their own.”

The scientists hummed in agreement. “They can be quite a handful sometimes. But in reality, it’s like having four puppies attached to my back at all times.”

As if on cue, the other actuators slithered over to Peter 3, chirping curiously as they closed in. Peter 3 shrunk back a little. “W-Whoa uhm…they aren’t—they aren’t gonna like, attack me or anything, right?”

“Relax, they don’t bite.” Otto paused. “On second thought, technically they do, but you’ll get used to it.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Easy now, Peter,” Otto chuckled. “Before you get alarmed, I must ask…are you ticklish by any chance?”

Peter 3 could feel his cheeks grow warm in an instant. The question caught him so off guard, and already made butterflies fill his belly. “U-Uhhaahm…” he laughed awkwardly, averting his gaze. “Um…n-no..?”

“Hm. Your hesitance and the color of your cheeks says otherwise.”

Peter 3 awkwardly rubbed at his face, as if that would wipe away his blush. “W-Well I’m not hesitating. So…yeah. A-And I’m not ticklish, either.” He scoffed. “I mean, why would I be, right? That’s just not something that really works on me, y’know?”

Otto nodded. “I know, Peter. Which is why I’m gonna do this.”

Peter 3 suddenly squeaked like a mouse as he felt a jab to his side. “AaHHEAA!” Another squeeze, this time to his other side. The culprit? Two sneaky actuators. “Whoa, hey, d-don’t get any ideHAA! HaHAHeheheyyy! Nohohoho!” This time, both curious actuators simultaneously nuzzled against Peter 3’s sides.

The tallest Spidey was starting to lose his balance so he hopped off the metal tentacle. But as soon as he touched the ground, all four actuators surrounded and hovered over Peter 3, their claws teasingly pinching and wiggling in the air just above him.

Peter 3 squeaked and curled in on himself. His arms wrapped around his torso protectively. Air tickles always drove him crazy! It made his spider tingle go off over and over, which made the fuzzy feeling of anticipation even worse!

“Oh, and another thing, Peter,” Doc Ock’s voice cut in. “Your other two partners in crime explained to me how you’re still hesitant to be around me. I don’t blame you, boy. I now I can look very intimidating, but you don’t have to be afraid of me. I can be very fun to be around with, y’know!” He smiled over the sound of the tall Spidey’s cackles.

Peter 3 couldn’t answer properly with his mad giggling and squeaking. He couldn’t believe how teasy and casual the scientist was being! Okay, maybe his other spider bros were right about one thing: maybe he didn’t have to be intimidated by Doc Ock anymore.

But still, he couldn’t shake off the feeling like he had been set up. His question was immediately answered.

“I was also told by my Peter that the best way I could warm up to you was through silly play like this,” the scientist emphasized his point by having two metal arms squeeze at the boy’s ribs. “Since you love to play round and laugh. His words, not mine.”

“WhaHAAAhat?! I-I knew you guhuhuys were uhuhup to somethiHHEEE!! Something eheeHEE—evil when you were tahahahalking!”

“Why, I did no such thing,” Otto innocently answered. “I’m simply trying to show you how friendly and warm I can be. You, on the other hand, have brought this upon yourself by lying to me!”

“WhahAHAt?! I nehehever lied!”

“Mhm, did so. You lied about being ticklish, and I will not tolerate any liars in my lab!”

“B-Buhuhut I wahahasn’t lying! I-I swear!”

“Then lift your arms up.”

“W-Whahahat?!!”

“You heard me. Lift your arms up. If you aren’t ticklish like you say, then clearly this shouldn’t affect you, right?”

“Riiiihihight?”

“Well, then go ahead.”

Being ever so stubborn, Peter shook his head and wrapped his arms even tighter around his torso. “Noho wahahay! I knhohohow what you’re gonna do!”

Otto couldn’t help but laugh at the flustered Spider-Man. “Good lord, you must be extremely ticklish to be this jumpy and giggly.”

“I-I aham nahahahat!”

“Another lie right there! That’s it, now you’re going to get it!”

The four actuators descended onto Peter 3, two grabbing his wrists, making him screech. “NAAAAHAHAHAO PLEASE!”

The scientist actually jumped back at he sudden reaction and quirked a brow. “Too much? I’m sorry, I’ll tone it down if you’re too overwhelmed by this.”

The metal tentacles pulled away like nothing had happened. Otto stole a quick glance at Peter 3, and was sure his heart was going to melt at the sudden look of shock and disappointment on his face.

Was he…pouting?

“Something on your mind?” The doctor asked with a soft grin.

“U-Uhmm….I-I hhhmmffhh…” the flustered Spider-Man averted his gaze and fumbled with his hoodie sleeves. “Y-You don’t—you didn’t have to…necessarily stop…”

“Oh? Is that my cue to keep going?” The metal tentacles were back, pinching the air above Peter 3’s sides.

“W-Whoa! Watch ihihit with those thihihings! A-And what? Keep going?” Peter’s 3’s face flushed as red as a cherry. “You couuuuld if you wanted to…” His lips suddenly curled into a cheeky smile. “But you’re wasting your time ‘cause I’m not even ticklish!” He stuck his tongue out and made a run for it as soon as the actuators descended on him again.

Otto shook his head with a smile at the Spider-Man’s cheekiness. His Peter warned him about how stubborn Peter 3 could be when admitting something like being ticklish. But he also said that was just Peter 3’s silent way of asking for more tickles or to keep going as he always provoked the other person instead of asking for it; he was just too shy to ask the dreaded question.

Otto had his metal tentacles make a grab for him again, resulting in Peter dashing for the door. He, of course, didn’t make it and was once again grabbed and pinned by the actuators. “What is with you lying to my face? You’re literally giggling and squirming already and I haven’t laid a finger on you!”

Peter 3 just shook his head, sputtering more giggles as his blush darkened and reached the tips of his ears. “I-Ihihit’s your freaheeheeheaky arms! Make them stohohop thahat!”

The older scientist was confused at first, but quickly caught on when he saw his actuators hovering over the boy’s body, the claws teasingly wiggling and slowly lowering and pulling away at the last second. “Ohhh I see. You can’t stand anticipating tickles, can you?”

Peter 3 stuck his tongue out in response.

“My goodness, you just have quite the attitude today. I’m guessing you don’t want me to go easy on you then. For that extra lie, you’re getting all four actuators!”

“W-Wait huh? What does that me—HEEEEEEheahaHAAAAAhaha!!” Peter 3 didn’t have the time to finish his sentence because all four metal tentacles attacked him at once. One was squeezing at his ribs, another shoved under his arm, another scribbled at his belly, and the last one was trying to get at his kicking feet.

Despite not being restrained at all, Peter 3 made no real attempt to get away. He just laid there on the floor, squirming like a worm on a hot sidewalk, and cackling like a hyena.

“AaaHAAAAhahaeheAAAAheeHEEEEEEHEE!! HeeheHEEEEheHAAAAhaha!!”

“Interestingly enough, you’re not making much attempt to get away. I don’t even have to hold you down with my extra arms!”

“ShsHDHSHshuhuhut uhUHUP!! AAAAAHH! Wahahahait!! NAAAAAAHAHAHAO!! EEEEEEK!!”

“Oh? Is this a bad rib of yours?”

“YEHEHEHES!!” Peter 3 shook his head madly. “T-Thahahat one’s off limits—NAAAAAAHAHAAA!! N-Not there EHEEEHEHEEE—either!!”

Octavius shook his head with a chuckle. “Is there any part of you that isn’t ticklish?”

“I-I d-HAAAAAAHAHAA don’t knoHOHOW!! *snort*”

“Dihihid you just snort?!”

“N-NOHOHO—*snort!*”

Unbeknownst to them, two figures were watching the playful spectacle from the slightly ajar door.

Peter 1 giggled behind his hand. “Peter 3 does sound like a hyena!”

Peter 2 lightly shushed him. “He sure does. I’m just glad Otto took my advice after all when we left. Well played with you too, little brother; tagging along with me to get those two alone.” He ruffled the younger spider’s hair.

Peter 1 squeaked happily at the touch. “Hey, you don’t think Peter 3 will get mad at us for doing this to him on purpose, do you?”

“Nah,” Peter 2 shook his head. “You know how much he secretly loves to be tickled. Besides, this way he won’t be afraid of Doctor Octavius anymore just like we all once were. Despite the scary metal arms, he really does have a soft playful side.”

THE END (*´꒳`*)

Never ever mess with the Radio Demon

Summary: Playing pranks on the Radio Demon himself is never a good idea. Something Charlie has to find out the hard way, when Alastor finally runs out of patience with her childish antics…

Warnings: This story contains lots and lots of fluffy tickling, so if you don't like this, then please don't read this, thank you. As always a little OOC warning here. I always try to stay in character while writing, but I can't make promises that it stays that way during the story. Also a little warning for some swearing. And last but not least: Platonic "charlastor", because I couldn't help myself. :3

Word count: Almost 6000 (I swear these stories of mine getting longer and longer XD)

Authors note: It's not exactly a third part of my previous two stories (This one and also that one), but can be seen as such. Even though writing this story flustered the hell out of me, I still had a lot of fun with this. Buuuuuut I don't have the "balls"to upload this one to my Fanfiction.net account (yet), so it will stay on my tumblr account only (for now). I tried to add some "tickle talk" in here (because I just LOVE teasing lers ;3). I think I already did that years ago with some of my Supernatural tickle stories, but I can't remember this anymore. Let's just say I tried and I hope I delivered XD. And now excuse me, but I will go back to hiding under a rock... XD

PS: I hope my english is still okay. Remember that my mother language is german and not english and that you will find some grammatical errors in my stories^^

By that way, this is for the anon who send me this cute ask:

I tried to add this and I hope you'll like it. I, for myself, love this idea (but poor Charlie XD).

And now have fun reading :3.

(I am also open for more ideas for new stories, for I am having so much fun writing these fics :3. My ask box is open for you guys :3)

UPDATE: Revenge story can be found here.

Never ever mess with the Radio Demon

As fast as she could, her hooves carried her through the dark corridors of her hotel. She ran as fast as her surroundings would allow her, taking as many turns as she could to outrun him, because she knew that if he got his claws on her she would be screwed!

A laugh swelled behind her, soon filling the entire hotel corridor and a shudder ran through her body, as flickering lights accompany the sinister laughter.

“Run, darling. Run as fast as you can. You can’t escape from me~.”

She forced herself to run even faster upon hearing this and when she dared to turn her head briefly and look behind her, her eyes widened, for there, in the darkness, two glowing red eyes peered straight at her and she could make out the outline of his broad grin, as he sauntered slowly behind her, hands crossed behind his back, as if this were harmless child's play. And to him it was, because Charlie knew how entertaining this hunt alone was for him. Even if hunting was something he usually didn't like to do, as he had once told her, but for her he made an exception today, it seemed. Great! As if her situation wasn't shitty enough already…

Admittedly, she herself was to blame for this misery, because he had warned her often enough and she hadn't wanted to listen and now she had to face the consequences. But she wouldn’t make it easy for him and she would run away from him for as long as she could.

She quickened her steps, as she turned the next corner and saw the hotel lobby ahead of her, where the hunt had begun.

When she slithered into the lobby, it was empty except for one demon, who was standing behind the bar, looking as grumpy as ever. There was no sign of the others and Charlie knew she was on her own.

Vaggie and her father had left the hotel not too long ago, as the two fallen angels wanted to stretch their wings, as they called it. Lucifer had offered Vaggie to fly with her that morning and for Vaggie it was a huge honor to fly with the King of Hell himself and so she had gone with him earlier, beaming with joy. Angel was at the Vees' to shoot another movie and there was no sign of Niffty either. The little demoness was probably out somewhere in the hotel, cleaning something or chasing after some roaches again.

So there was only one demon left...

"HUSKER!!!"

The bartender flinched, as Charlie literally shouted his name at him and only seconds later, the princess of hell was standing in front of his bar. Completely out of breath, with a wild beating heart in her chest and with pure panic in her eyes, she looked at him, silently begging him to help her out of this situation she has gotten herself into.

"Husker, please! You have to help me!"

Her voice sounded so desperate, as if she knew no other way out than to come to him and demand help. But whether he wanted to help her was a completely different question. Especially when the sinister laughter once again echoed through the hotel corridor from which the young demoness had just emerged. A shadow slowly appeared on the floor. A shadow, with big antlers on its head and a devilish grin on his face and that was the moment Husker knew he wanted nothing to do with the whole thing.

"Whatever you did, I want nothing to do with it. I'm definitely not messing with Alastor!" the cat demon said with a growl in his voice and Charlie's last shred of hope, of getting out of this in one piece, disappeared with such dismissive words.

She opened her mouth to reply, but all that came out was a startled squeak, when she suddenly felt a dark aura behind her and shortly afterwards, two clawed hands placed themselves gently on her shoulders. From the way Husker flinched and how his fur bristled, she knew Alastor was standing behind her, still half presenting his demonic form.

"What a wise decision, Husker. At least someone who knows not to mess with me."

The words were calm and yet they sent shiver after shiver down Charlie's spine, as she could clearly hear the warning in that usually charming voice of the Radio Demon. Especially when the hands squeezed her shoulders to give the words more strength and let her know that he had actually meant her and not Husker.

"Now if you'll excuse us, my old friend. Charlie and I have something to discuss..."

More goosebumps all over her body and she felt the grip on her shoulders tighten. He was silently letting her know that he wouldn't let her get away and that she didn't even need to try.

But that was exactly what she did.

Charlie desperately tried to free herself from his grip, wriggling wildly back and forth and Alastor was so surprised by that, that he actually loosened his grip briefly and she was able to break free. But she didn't get far, as he rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her middle, pinning her against his chest.

“You’re not going anywhere, my dear!”

"NO! Al, please!!" she shrieked, a laugh mingling with her voice that she could no longer hold back.

Husker, meanwhile, stared questioningly back and forth between the two of them.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you guys starting to lose it too, or what did I miss?" he asked, as Alastor joined in the princess's laughter, as he lifted her slightly off the ground and turned around with that wriggling, giggling something in his arms and tried to carry her into the direction of the hotel hallway they had just come from.

"If you're determined to find out what I am going to do to her, you're welcome to be the next guest in my today’s broadcast."

Husker's eyes widened as these words reached his ears. He suddenly realized the danger Charlie was in, but...why in hell was she laughing so hard? She should be scared for her life if Alastor took her into his radio tower. After all, he knew what he did to his victims there...

"You don't really want to do that, boss? She's Lucifer's daughter! You can’t be serious!"

Alastor had managed to throw the still laughing Charlie over his shoulder and held her tight, to make sure she wouldn’t get anywhere. He gave the cat demon his widest grin and something mischievous sparkles in those red eyes of his.

"Take a good look at her, Husker. Does she look to you like I threatened to maul her, while broadcasting her agonizing screams for whole hell to hear?"

"Not really."

"Then there's nothing to worry about. Now if you'll excuse me...as I mentioned, Charlie and I have some unfinished business to deal with. Don't we, darling?"

He didn't even wait for an answer and only seconds later, he and Charlie had disappeared into the corridor from where they had come from, leaving a befuddled looking cat demon behind.

Husker could only look after them with a disbelieving shake of his head.

Yes, everyone in this hotel seemed to be going crazy lately. If even Alastor was already getting involved in some silly games...He couldn't even drink that much alcohol to put up with this shit anymore...

Meanwhile, Alastor had almost reached the door that led to his room. He could have simply teleported into his radio tower with Charlie, but where was the fun in that? It was much more fun to take his time and delay the inevitable on purpose; just to torment her some more. So he walked slowly, almost strolling through the dark hotel corridor, ignoring the playful punches that rained down on his back. The only way for Charlie to defend herself against his strong grip. But the deer demon remained truly unimpressed by these pitiful attempts. He just kept walking, grinning maliciously as the young princess got more and more lost in her laughing fit, even though he hadn't done anything yet.

Oh yes, this was already entertaining for him and he would make sure that it would get even better, once he had reached his destination. It was also a welcome change from the now monotonous life in the hotel. Although he had had a lot of fun pestering Lucifer a little since he had moved into the hotel, but he had to hold himself back a lot as he had promised Charlie and he was a demon who kept his promises...well, at least some of them...

"Al! Please! Let me go! We can talk about this!" Charlie's voice snapped him out of his daydreaming. Fingers clawed into his back, pulled lightly at his overcoat and he had to control Charlie's wriggling legs with his free hand to avoid getting kicked.

"Now you want to talk? I'm sorry, my dear, but it's too late to talk now. I warned you several times what would happen if you dare messing with me, but not once would you listen to me. Instead, you play one prank after another on me, provoking me by constantly poking my sides, no matter where I am or who is watching and last night you even had the nerve to send me Angel Dust while I was sitting in the bathtub, because Niffty made me take a bath. Do you know what he wanted from me, Charlie?"

As he asked her this question, the princess's laughter grew louder and she could probably guess what Angel had wanted from him.

"He seriously wanted to oil my hooves...and other parts of my body! And he called me an elk! It was bad enough that he saw me naked, but this? This was the most outrageous thing yet and something I will not tolerate! You seem to forget with whom you’re messing with and I am very happy to remind you of that, sweetheart. When I am done with your punishment, you will think twice of messing with me ever again!"

The last words were accompanied by a low growl, which gave Charlie goosebumps again. She could also well imagine why Angel had come back to the lobby so quickly last night...with a totally distraught look in his eyes. Apparently Alastor had presented him his demonic form, because Angel had sworn last night to never make a single sex joke in his presence ever again.

"I-it was just a prank, Al. Don't you have a sense of humor anymore?”

They had now arrived at his door and he slowly unlocked it, before stepping into his room just as slowly, locking the door behind him and then throwing Charlie onto his bed; only to take off his overcoat and roll up the sleeves of his shirt; just for a dramatic effect, of course, and to tease Charlie a little more.

When he turned to look at her, she squeaked and hid under his blanket, making him roll his eyes. Nevertheless, he couldn’t deny that the sight didn’t amuse him. And something like this seriously called herself the princess of hell. She didn't exactly behave like a princess. But perhaps that was exactly what he liked so much about her. She was almost always cheerful, had a smile on her face and managed to cheer others up or motivate them. But when it came to playing pranks at his expense, the limit was reached. Princess or not, he would teach her a lesson today which she wouldn’t forget so quickly; he would make sure about that.

"To come back to your question: I do have a sense of humor and understand fun. Only my kind of fun might be very different from your kind of fun," he explained, as he slowly sauntered towards his bed, grabbing the blanket and pulled it off Charlie in one swift move.

"How about I show you my sense of humor? I am sure you will love it, because you will have a lot to laugh about…"

He didn't even wait for an answer, but grabbed her legs and pulled her towards him.

"No, no, no! A-Alastor please dohohohn’t!"

“You can beg me as much as you want to. It won’t help you, for I won’t show you any mercy and you better save your strength, for you will need it very soon…”

Her cheerful laughter soon filled the entire room, as he wrapped his arms around her middle, lifted her up and then carried her unerringly to his radio tower, which was right next to his room. He had to give her credit for one thing: she really did try to fight back with all her might. But no matter what she did, she couldn't stop him from carrying her to his radio station. His shadow did the work of locking the door behind them, so that they were undisturbed, before he disappeared again. But not without giving Charlie a sardonic grin that made her stomach do somersaults.

It was the first time she was in his radio tower. He'd had to build it from scratch after Adam had destroyed the hotel. Normally she would have found it exciting to be allowed to see the inside of Alastor's radio tower, but at that moment she had no eyes for the interior, only for the door that loomed closed in front of her sight. Once again, she pounded her fists against his back, but it only earned her a low chuckle from him and, unchanged, he carried her to the small vintage wooden bench that stood in front of his radio desk.

As he sat down with her, Charlie made a last-ditch attempt to escape and climb over his shoulder, but he was quicker than she was, seeming to have anticipated that she was trying to escape from him, because he quickly grabbed her legs and pulled her back. When she came to sit on his lap, he wrapped his right arm around her stomach, pressed her back against his chest and slid the small wooden bench a little closer to his desk.

"NO! AL, PLEASE DON'T!" she squeaked loudly, as he reached with his free hand for the ancient microphone that stood on the desk and slowly pulled it in her direction. And it was at that moment, that she realized for the first time that he was no longer carrying his microphone staff. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen it since the fight with Adam. She wondered what had happened to it? A question she really wanted to ask him later...assuming she survived what was about to happen to her now...

By now, she was laughing so hard that she could already feel tears in her eyes. Alastor hadn't done anything yet and the Radio Demon just sat there in silence, watching her with a broad grin and waiting patiently until she calmed down on her own.

It took a few moments, before her laughter died down and silence returned to the radio tower.

Still giggling softly, Charlie let herself fall against his chest and wiped the tears from her eyes. She felt his chest vibrate against her back as he chuckled softly.

"Calm down, my dear. I haven't done anything yet," he teased her and he took great pleasure in noticing the slight blush on her cheeks that his words had triggered.

"You don't have to."

Amused, he raised an eyebrow and tightened his grip around her middle a little, as he felt the fighting spirit return to her body, as she began to fidget again.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to, because you don't seem to want to learn any other way, Charlie. No one messes with the Radio Demon without consequences. Not even the princess of hell. And here we are now. I'm sure you're familiar with the stories they tell about me in hell and what I do with the demons I take into my radio tower. However, it will be a little different for you..."

His words were calm, teasing and yet warning at the same time and they were accompanied by claws that began to walk gently across her belly. The princess immediately burst into another fit of giggles and bend forward at the same time. Her hands rushed to his, trying to push his claws off her belly, but she couldn't do it. A twinge of mirthful panic rushed through her body, as his claws slowly picked up the speed, wiggling softly into the fabric of her thin shirt, since she didn't wear her blazer. Something she regretted now...

"Ohhh, what's wrong, sweetheart? Does that tickle~?" he asked, highly amused, his voice almost being a purr of true satisfaction and his eyes sparkled with mirth as well, as she started squirming in his grip.

"Yehehehehes!"

"Peheheherfect."

Almost immediately, Charlie felt her cheeks catching fire, as Alastor mimicked her teasingly and her fit of giggles quickly turned back into a full-blown fit of laughter that she just couldn't hold back anymore. At the same time, she threw her head back, right against his shoulder, kicking her legs a little and squealed with pure mirth, as his claws continued to move over her belly, tickling softly and yet so effectively, always in search of those little spots, that would make her squeak so adorably.

“What’s wrong, darling? Is this already too much for you to handle? Are you that ticklish~? And why are you looking away from me? Can’t you look into my face right now~? Come on, Charlie~, let me see that smile of yours.”

"Y-you ahahahasshole!" she squeaked out between fits of laughter in response, as his claws hit a particular ticklish spot on her belly.

Immediately the tickle attack stopped and Alastor pressed her even closer against his body, bending his head down to her so that his breath tickled her neck, leaving her in a steady fit of giggles.

"What did you just call me?"

His voice continued to be playful and yet a slight threat resonated within it, but she knew he wasn't really mad, that he was just teasing her, that he enjoyed this little game and she'd be lying if she would say that she didn't enjoy these playful moments too. So she gladly went along with the little power play, but kept her head turned away from him, as she addressed her next words to him.

"Are you going deaf, old man?" she shot back and this response completely threw Alastor off his act for a few seconds. He blinked a few times, before he had processed the words she had just hurled at him.

He really had to hand it to her: she had great courage to speak to him like that. So far, only one demon had ever dared to be so rude to him. A well-known TV demon, whose name was now enough to make his blood boil. But the difference between Charlie and Vox was that Charlie didn't mean what she said. And yet he let her words provoke him. He slid a little closer to his desk with her, switched on the old microphone and then stretched out his free hand towards one of the buttons on his control panel.

"See that button there, Charlie?"

She hardly dared to look, but she did anyway and nodded her head shyly, but still giggling.

"On Air" was written in large red letters above the button, but they weren’t yet lit up, showing her that he hadn’t yet switched her live.

"Shall I push it so all hell can hear how incredibly sweet you can squeal when I tickle you in all the right places?"

The teasing words caused an anticipatory tingling in her stomach and hastily she shook her head, starting to wriggle in his grip again in a pitiful attempt to free herself, but she didn't manage it. When she saw his finger slowly approaching the button, she couldn't stand it any longer. Laughing, she too reached out a hand and grabbed his, clawing at his wrist and trying to stop him from pushing the button.

"NO! Al, please don't! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I promise I won’t prank you anymore, I swear! Please don’t do this!" she squeaked, as she wrestled with his arm, but he stayed where he was, his finger getting closer and closer to the button and she could already see her life flashing before her inner eyes.

"It's too late for that now. If you mess with me, you have to face the consequences. And yours start in three..."

"No, Al! Don't!"

"...two..."

"PLEASE!"

"...Oooooone~..."

A loud scream suddenly cut the air, as the hand, that was still lying on Charlie's belly, came back to life and Alastor attacked her belly button through her thin shirt with his index finger. Laughing loudly, the young demoness let herself fall back against him, arching her back and trying to get his hand off her belly at the same time.

"Oops, I must have pushed the wrong button, hmm?" he purred teasingly into her ear and he had to laugh himself at all those lovely sounds, coming out of her mouth. She twisted wildly back and forth now, trying to pry his hand off of her and all the while laughing her heart out and squeezing her eyes shut, as the mirth rushed over her like a tidal wave.

Apparently he had hit the jackpot already...

"How cute~. The princess of hell has a laugh button on her belly~. That information alone would be worth a live broadcast, don't you think?"

His continued teasing made it so much worse and she almost jumped out of her own skin when the remaining fingers of his hand started moving as well.

"Let's see if I can find any more buttons like that," he whispered playfully into her ear and as his claws scratched gently over her shirt, it happened: a noise that sounded like the bleating of a young goat escaped from her throat; so loud that it filled the entire radio tower. The hand on her belly immediately came to a halt and Charlie, completely shocked by the sound herself, clapped her own hands over her mouth.

An awkward silence suddenly fell over the small radio station and Charlie felt like her head was going to explode from embarrassment at any moment. And it didn't get any better when Alastor started laughing. Quietly at first, but then louder and louder and more and more unabashedly, until the Radio Demon's own eyes were filled with tears of joy.

"What in the unholy hell was that?" he asked through his fit of highly amused laughter.

Charlie didn't answer, kept her face turned away from him and hidden behind her hands. She simply couldn't and wouldn't look him in the face at that moment. It was just embarrassing! It was rare for sounds like that to escape her throat and so far only her father had managed to do that when he had been fooling around with her many years ago. She had thought that it wouldn’t happen again. But apparently she had thought wrong...

Claws broke through her thoughts, tickling her sides and catapulting her back into a fit of laughter in a matter of seconds.

"Do that again," she heard Alastor say excitedly, but she wouldn't give him that satisfaction again. She squirmed wildly back and forth, managing to turn around on top of him and quickly hide her bright red face in his chest.

But Alastor was stubborn. He kept tickling her with both hands now, looking for that one spot that would elicit that sound from her again and sure enough, his claws found that one spot one more time. Charlie's fingers clawed into his shirt, as she laughed into his chest and as the claws grazed the sides of her belly, the bleating of a young goat mingled with her laughter once more. And again, and again, and again, until Alastor was forced to stop tickling her, as he was laughing almost as hard as she was by now.

"Stop laughing, Al! That’s not funny!" Charlie grumbled into his chest, as the Radio Demon doubled over in laughter. He held her with one hand so that she wouldn't fall off him and Charlie couldn't help but join in his laughter. It just sounded so contagious to her and the whole situation was so stupid and maybe it was exactly what she needed after all the stress of the last few months. Just letting go, laughing, having fun and forgetting about all the bad things that had happened...

And from the looks of it, Alastor was feeling no different. He seemed to have been through a lot too...and he was probably still going through a lot. When she thought about it, she had rarely seen a genuine smile on his face. One, that even reached his eyes. When she looked up at him briefly and shyly, she saw the cheerful laughter not only on his lips but also in his eyes. Something that filled her heart with great joy. And he seemed to feel the same way, considering that his cute little deer tail was wagging excitedly the whole time, as she managed to get a short glimpse at it, when he was slightly bending forward in mirthful laughter...

"And how funny that is hahahaha! The Princess of Hell sounds like a goat when she is being tickled too much, oh, that's too good!" he said, wiping a small tear from the corner of his eye with his free hand.

A growl escaped Charlie's throat, which didn’t go unnoticed by Alastor and his laughter died down to giggling. He was looking down at her, as she lifted her face from his chest and looked him in the face again. Staring up at him darkly, she growled once more, before sitting up straight and jabbing her index finger gently into his chest, careful not to hit the scar hidden underneath his clothing.

"Damn big words for someone who barks like a fucking deer when he's being tickled in the right places!"

Abruptly, Alastor's giggles died down and it was now his turn to growl and Charlie to smirk, as he scowled at her.

"I don't bark like a deer!"

"Oh no?"

Charlie very quickly convinced him otherwise, because when she slipped her hands under his arms and moved her fingers, he threw his head back in loud laughter and it wasn't long before the loud, barking sound of an alarmed deer stole itself from his throat, followed by a loud snort, which now made his cheeks catching fire from embarrassment.

"Ha, see? I was right! You sound like a fucking deer!"

He growled darkly, as he managed to grab her hands and holding them away from his body, before looking straight into her eyes.

“You just dug your own grave, my dear…”

A massive shudder ran through Charlie's own body, as she saw how radio dials appeared in his now black eyes and how his antlers started growing, which was never a good sign!

Without saying another word, he spun her around, pressed her back against his chest with one arm and moved even closer to his control panel. She could feel his breath on her neck and she could practically hear the sadistic grin in his next words, as he whispered "Speak clearly into the microphone, sweetheart~," into her ear, while his free hand pushed the button with the "On Air" symbol...

It had been a tough day of shooting for Angel Dust and he was glad when he stepped through the front door and saw his favorite bartender, cleaning some glasses. With a smug grin, Angel sauntered over to the bar, sat down on one of the bar stools and gave Husker a cheeky look, who only commented this with his usual eye roll.

"Are you alone, whiskers? Where did the others go?"

"Hopefully far away..." the bartender answered with a low growl in his voice, which made Angel laugh.

"Good mood as ever, eh?"

"Can you blame me, with all you weirdos around?"

Angel was about to say something appropriate as a reply, but he didn't get that far, when suddenly the intercom speakers and the old radio, that Alastor had placed in the lobby, came to life all over the hotel.

"What the...?!"

That was all the porn star could get out, when shortly afterwards loud laughter filled the entire hotel, interrupted here and there by Alastor's highly amused voice.

"Greetings to all sinners who can hear me. The latest news from the Hazbin Hotel: not even the Princess of Hell is safe from the wrath of the Radio Demon. Listen carefully to what will happen if you dare to mess with me."

His voice was interrupted by a loud squeal from Charlie, which was immediately followed by loud, but happy laughter.

"Well, I have to admit that's not really my style, as you're used to a very different broadcast from me. One with less laughter and more of this..."

A loud scream from Charlie was heard and her laughter faded into silence for a few seconds.

"...but a little variety in my broadcast really doesn't hurt, don't you think so too, my dear listeners?"

Another loud burst of laughter was heard and something seemed to fall over in the background.

"Oh no, no, no Charlie. You can't just knock over my microphone. That's pretty rude. Our listeners want to hear you, so I ask you kindly to speak clearly into the microphone...if you can still do that, of course."

More squealing was heard, which turned into hysterically giggling and Alastor’s sinister laughter mingled with the mirthful sounds.

“What`s that? Did I find another sweet spot of yours? Right here on your siiiiiiides~? You’re shaking your head? But how can you deny this? I can clearly see how much it makes you giggle when I drag my claws slooooooowly down your sides. Just like that~.”

More happy squealing from Charlie and amused laughter from Alastor was heard.

“How about I check how ticklish you are under your arms? I am sure our listeners want to know about that too, right? Now let’s see…Ohhh, it seems like you’re even more ticklish here, hmm?”

“G-get your hands out of thehehehere!”

“I am afraid I can’t do that. They seem stuck there now. Why don’t you just lift your arms a little to help me? Or…should I try to wriggle them out? Mayyyyyybe like…that?”

Loud shrieking was the response to Alastor's question, followed by almost hysterical sounding giggling.

“Oho, what is that? Did you just try to bite me, my dear? Oh, I can’t have that. Maybe I should bite you back for that impudence? And I must say…this neck of yours looks delicious. Let me get a little taste…”

Charlie’s giggling quickly rose in volume and pitch, as playful growling sounds mingled with her happy giggling and it sounded like a knee colliding with a wooden table.

“S-stohohohohop ihihihihit!!”

“Stop? But Charlie, dear. We just started~. And how can I stop when you’re giving me such a wonderful broad smile, hm?”

More loud and sugar sweet squealing was heard from Charlie.

“Oh no, no, don’t hide your pretty face from me. Come on, Charlie. Let me see that cute smile of yours…aha, there it is. Now keep your hands away from your face and stay close to the microphone, will you? After all, our listeners are eager to hear you.”

“Nohohohoho! T-turn it ohohohoff!!”

“Now, why would I do such a thing, hmm?”

“I-it’s embarassihihihihng!”

“Well, maybe you should have thought about this before messing with me?”

“I a-already sahahhaid I was s-sohohohohorry!”

“Oh, I know. But I am not convinced yet. But I am sure you will be sorry, once we are done here.”

The sounds of a fist, hitting repeatedly against a table was heard.

“Now, come on, my dear. It’s not my desk’s fault that you are so ticklish~.”

“Y-you are evil!” Charlie managed to press out between her giggles.

“Heh, tell me something I don’t already know. And now hush. Less talking and more laughing~.”

He must have targeted a sweet spot, for Charlie’s giggling rose in volume and pitch.

“Awww, if you could see her now…she looks soooo adorable~. Especially with that deep blush on her face. But at least you can hear her. Buuuuut I personally think we should change the volume of that giggling of hers, don’t you think? Turning it into laughter again. Mayyyyybe if I tickle riiiiiiiiiiiight here…”

“NAHAHAHA! A-ALASTOHOHOHOR! DOHOHOHOHN’T!!!” Charlie screeched and her giggling quickly turned into full blown belly laughter.

“That’s much better. Keep on laughing, my ticklish, little darling. Make this to the sweetest broadcast hell has ever heard~.”

Angel raised an eyebrow questioningly, as he turned his face back to Husker, who could only roll his eyes at what he was hearing.

"What's wrong with these two? Are they on drugs?" the spider demon asked as another loud shriek cut the air, followed by a very amused sounding "Oho, we have a little squirmer here too. How cuuuuuute~," from Alastor.

“I don’t even ask anymore…” the bartender growled, as he listened to Charlie’s and Alastor’s laughter.

“I thought he was a monster, feared by everybody in hell?”

“Oh, he is, buddy. Better be careful when you’re around him. I am sure he has given you a taste of the monster that’s sleeping inside of him when you were messing with him last night, right?”

Angel shuddered at the memories.

“Don’t remind me…” he murmured.

Another loud shriek echoed through the lobby and Husker rolled his eyes, as Alastor’s slightly sadistic laughter reached his ears right afterwards.

“He is only going soft on her. If it was you or me up there, he would broadcast our screams all over hell, while torturing us slowly to death. I still remember his old broadcasts. In one of them he was asking his victim which finger he should bite off first. You can be glad that he didn’t do anything like this to you after what you’ve done last night.”

“Okay, okay. Got it. No messing around with him. Understood.”

“You better keep this in mind, kid.”

A loud banging sound was heard again and more slightly hysterical laughter from Charlie, as Alastor seemed to find all of her worst spots by now.

“I thought I was clear about you not knocking my microphone over? If you don’t want to listen to me, you have to deal with the consequences, sweetheart~. Let’s see how loud I can make you laugh and maybe, just maybe, I can make you bleat like a goat one more time…”

"I need a drink..." Husker said, grumbling, shaking his head, as Charlie's loud, but happy, laughter continued to echo throughout the entire hotel and was shortly interrupted by the sound of a bleating goat.

“Make it two…” Angel replied and he could only sit there and shake his head in amusement, as he kept listening to Alastor’s broadcast.

What Charlie didn't realize at this moment, was the fact that Alastor had only put her on live through the hotel speakers, so only Husker and Angel could hear her.

The Radio Demon may be a sadist when it came to others, but there were very small exceptions that could soften his otherwise cold heart...and Charlie had become one of those exceptions for him in his time at the Hazbin Hotel...

Nothing To Prove || Gravity Falls Tickle Fic ||

A/N: there's a lot of buildup at the start but THIS IS A TICKLE FIC I SWEAR! more than anything though, I'm writing this for the sake of developing characters. This is familial love so if I see any i*cest, I am blocking you on sight

Summary: When Ford comes to realize how much Dipper looks up to him, he seeks out a way to show his young nephew that there's no need to be intimidated by him.

Word count: 2,454

----

Dipper

Life just got a whole galaxy bigger.

Dipper thought he knew what his life would become when he found that old dusty book in the forest; he'd pursue adventure, get into danger, fight monsters.

But meeting his number one hero? And then finding out that he's related?

Not a chance.

It'd been a year since Dipper and his sister left Gravity Falls. They had lots of time that school year to ruminate on everything they had been through together. In the span of three months, their whole universe had turned inside out.

They had another uncle. Someone else to look out for and protect them. Mabel, as she is with all news of this sort, was over the moon. Dipper, however, wasn't as content. It wasn't that he didn't like Great Uncle Ford. Far from it. He loved him unconditionally. He worshipped the ground he walked on. He would fight a thousand beasts to earn his mentor's pride. And that was the problem.

Dipper had spent so long dreaming of the author as this distant hero; an intellectual mastermind that surpassed all around him. He dreamt of meeting him, yes. Bombarding him with questions, absolutely. But now the man was part of his family. The same family that he cracked stupid fart jokes and goofed around with.

Dipper wasn't prepared to have someone so important to him in his life on a permanent basis. He couldn't help but feel a little small around Ford, like every move he made was a chance to embarrass himself in front of his idol.

After his first summer in Gravity Falls ended, Dipper hoped that his overwhelming sense of awe would pass with the time, and he would grow more comfortable around this new addition to the family. But the moment he stepped off of that bus and saw his great-uncle there to greet him, he knew it wouldn't be quite that easy.

He volunteered for as many of Ford's experiments as he could. He offered as much help as he could provide. When faced with an obstacle, Dipper made sure to prove to his uncle that he was smart and tough beyond his years. This, as one might expect, is a difficult and exhausting image to maintain. Being "the perfect, mature man of science" was hard when you were a young, hormonal teenage boy. But that wasn't going to stop Dipper.

When Ford had asked if him if he wanted to help engineer a stronger form of glass that could withstand abnormally high temperatures, he nearly fell over with excitement. He was going to be the best lab assistant Ford could ask for.

It seemed, however, that he couldn't get that right after all, because when bringing over the regular glass jar for experimentation, it slipped through his fingers and shattered.

Dipper was mortified. Not only had he broken the constant variable in their experiment, but possibly also the trust Ford placed in him to be a responsible assistant. How could he have been so careless? Was their experiment ruined now? Did Ford think he wasn't taking this seriously?

"Oh my gosh! Oh my- I- I'm so sorry, Great Uncle Ford! I don't know what happened. I thought I had it" Dipper rambled, throat tightening.

"Aw shoot," Ford cursed under his breath, "It's okay, Dipper, it happens. Here, why don't you go fetch me a new jar from the back shelves while I sweep up this mess?"

"Act- Actually you know what, I think you might actually have an easier time doing this if I wasn't here. I- I don't want to get in your way. " Dipper shuffled back towards the door.

"But I thought you wanted to-" Ford turned to his nephew only to find that he was already gone.

---

Ford

It was unusual, and not the kind that Ford enjoyed. The puzzling kind of unusual.

The conclusion did not follow the variables. Variable one: Ford was conducting an experiment. Variable two: Ford asked Dipper for assistance. Variable three: Dipper was eager to help. Conclusion: Dipper had panicked and ran off. It just wasn't right. Something was off balance.

Now, in a technical situation, Ford could figure out the root cause himself. He had well over thirty years of practice doing so. But this was a human being. Moreso, this was his great nephew, and he wasn't so skilled in the people area. He needed to outsource this predicament with someone who knew Dipper longer than he had. Someone he could trust to tell him what he was doing wrong.

That someone in particular was tucking away a large medieval flail in the cupboards of the sitting room when Ford found him. What it was for, Ford thought it better not to ask.

"Stanley, can I talk to you about something?" He said.

"I didn't know it was a bear, honest!" Stan yelled.

"What?"

"Uhh, nothing. What's on your mind?"

"I have the strangest feeling that Dipper is more anxious than normal. He ran out of my lab this morning looking like he'd seen a ghost, which I have ruled out as a possibility because the air did not smell at all of sulfur. Anyway, the point is, I think something's wrong with him. You've known him far longer than I have. I thought maybe you would have better insight into these things" Ford explained.

Stan stood silently for a moment.

"Stan?"

"Oh sorry I was just enjoying the moment you finally came to me for advice"

"Stanley."

His brother quirked an eyebrow at him. "You don't gotta be a genius to figure this one out, Poindexter. The kid's afraid of looking bad in front of ya."

Ford was stunned into silence. This was a new feeling. An new, terribly odd feeling.

"What?"

"Come on, you've got to have noticed by now. He looks to you like you're a god. He practically worships the ground you walk on. You were like his hero before you'd even met him. You think he's not gonna feel some pressure to live up to your standard? He just wants you to be proud of him."

"I love him! He's my brother's grandson! And of course I'm proud of him. He's very remarkable for his age" Ford said.

"Then why don't you tell him that once in a while."

Ford lost himself in thought.

"Well, time to get back to restocking my weapons. Good luck with your family tension. I'll call you for dinner," Stan sauntered away, seemingly unbothered by the problem, "Prepping for battle, do do do..."

Once again, Ford was left alone to think.

---

This wasn't the first time that Ford had heard someone tell him that he had a standoff-ish impression on people, but he never thought it would impact his kin. Someone he treasured so greatly. Now that he knew how Dipper was feeling, he couldn't waltz around and act like he didn't know. Something had to be done. The only issue was, he didn't know what.

Ford waited a couple days before asking Dipper to rejoin his experiments, knowing that the boy probably wouldn't be willing to assist him just yet after what happened. To his relief, Dipper agreed.

It was still painful to know that his nephew was intimidated by him, but it felt nice just to have him by his side again being his seemingly normal self.

The day went without a hitch this time. In fact, things went quicker than expected and they finished early. It was as they were readying themselves to leave when Ford spoke.

"Thank you for your help today, Dipper. I've been having trouble operating all of this machinery by myself lately. Must have thrown out my back or something."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Dipper replied, "Muscles get tighter with age, so I'm sure it's normal."

Ford turned to look down at his nephew. "Are you calling me old?"

The boy paled. "Wh- I- Uh- I- I wasn't-"

"I'm afraid I have no choice but to punish you for your disrespect" the scientist said darkly.

Before Dipper could have time to overthink that threat, Ford pulled the boy into his arms, sat himself on the ground and started tickling his belly.

The first few seconds were filled with frantic babbling; jumbled syllables trying to make themselves into a coherent sentence. Ford wasn't hearing a "stop", so he didn't.

Dipper giggled hysterically. His face had instantly screwed itself up tight and was looking for a way to bury itself into some hiding place. "GREATUNCLEFORHOHORD! WHAT ARE YOU DOHOHOHOING?!"

"Tickling you, of course! I thought that was obvious," Ford answered with cheer, all pretend-seriousness gone. He chuckled. "I guess you inherited more from me than I thought."

Dipper couldn't seem to figure out what to do with his hands, until he settled on hiding his face with them.

"Aw, don't be shy, son. I'm not the author today. Today, I'm just your uncle," Ford then added with a growl, "Your uncle: the tickle monster!"

The boy's arms fell from his face, settling down on his lap like little t-rex arms. He seemed to have surrendered to the silliness of it and didn't bother to fight.

Wonderful, Ford thought, that means he trusts me!

As Ford moved from belly to sides to ribs, Dipper's laughter went up and down like a rollercoaster, his child-like smile never leaving his face. "IHIHIHI'M SORRYHIHIHI!"

"Nuh uh, kid. "Sorry"'s not gonna cut it," Ford said playfully. He was surprised how good he was at this. He didn't have much experience with playing with children, and he had thought his decades of interdimensional travel would've hardened him to such silliness. Thank the gods that it hadn't.

As Ford's hand started to travel up to the boy's underarm, the boy shrieked and suddenly found the will to fight.

"EHEHEHEK! NONONONONO!"

Ford couldn't help himself laughing at his adorable little ward. "Ticklish there, huh?"

"YEHEHES" Dipper cried.

"Okay, okay, I'll make you a deal. You take back what you said about me being old, and I'll stop tickling you."

Ford had expected the kid to be worn out by now. He thought it was only fair to offer him an out. To his surprise, he didn't take it.

Dipper seemed to think it over for a second, then shook his head with an extra giggle, one that was not from the tickling.

This kid is going to be the death of me, Ford thought, not a hint of regret in his mind.

"Okay, if you say so," the man said playfully, and dug all six fingers into the boy's hollows.

A shriek, and then more rambling, and then loud laughter.

Dipper, despite being tickled within an inch of his life, looked happier than Ford had ever seen him. If this was a dream, Ford did not want to wake up.

"I've got some questions for you, Dipper. Smile for yes and laugh for no, ya got it?"

All he could do was laugh.

"Okay, are you smart?"

Dipper sunk his chin in to his chest.

"Dipper, this won't work if you say yes and no" Ford remarked with fake incredulousness, "Okay, hmmmm... are you brave?"

The teen began to snicker.

"I don't think you understand the rules of this game," Ford said, which only made Dipper laugh harder.

"Alright, alright, last one. Are you ticklish?"

Dipper let out a snort at that infernal question.

"I'll take that as a yes," Ford smiled smugly.

After several more minutes of goofing around, Dipper finally had enough.

"OKAYHYHYHY OKAYHYHY! I TAKE IT BAHAHACK!"

"Good lad." And with that, Ford released his victim.

Dipper wrapped his arms around himself and giggled till there were no more laughs left in him.

"You okay, son? I didn't go too crazy, did I?"

"No no, I'm fihihine. Mabel's put me through much worhorse."

"I can believe that. She got that from your uncle Stanley, you know."

After having regained his breath, Dipper got up from his uncle's lap. "So... are you really not mad about the jar I broke the other day?"

"Oh, Dipper, of course I'm not. You should see the things I've broken down here. You'd be shocked."

"But when you make a mistake, it's different." Dipper recoiled. Apparently, he didn't mean to let that slip.

"What do you mean?"

Dipper's timidness was returning, and Ford almost regretted even asking.

"It's just... you've done so many great things and are so perfect the rest of the time that the mistakes you make don't count as much."

That was some seriously flawed logic, but Ford chose not to point it out.

Dipper continued. "I make too many mistakes."

"Dipper, you're supposed to make mistakes. You're twelve. Do you think I was able to do all the things I do now at your age? Not even remotely.

"And more to the point, you don't have to embarrassed about those mistakes. Especially not with me."

"But you're different! You're the author! The author I'd been searching for all summer. You're a dimension-hopping scientist! And surprise, surprise, you're even cooler in person! And I'm just... so... small.

"I keep trying to make myself useful, to be someone you can be proud of, but-"

Ford kneeled down and placed both hands on the kid's shoulders. "Dipper, listen very close to me. I'm going to tell you something, and I need you to really hear me, understand?"

Dipper hesitantly nodded.

"I am so proud of you. You're my great nephew. I'm proud of you every minute of every day. That's not something that can change. You've got nothing to prove to me. You make me proud simply by being who you are. Never question that. Can you do that for me, son?"

The boy looked near to tears.

Oh gods, Ford thought, did he say something wrong? He thought this would make him feel better, not worse! Should he-

Little arms suddenly hugged his neck tight. "Yeah... yeah I can."

Ford could not get his arms around him fast enough.

"Now, don't you ever go comparing yourself to me. What a disservice to your incredible self."

Dipper hugged tighter.

Ford himself could feel little pin pricks in his own eyes. He released his hug and cleared his throat.

"Well, I think we've had enough excitement down here for one day. What do you say we head back upstairs for dinner."

Dipper wiped his eyes with a happy smile. "Sounds good to me."

The two walked back towards the door, a new kind of bond formed between them. It felt like something had been accomplished today, and that was all either of them could ask for.

"You are old, though."

"Oh, I'll show you old. Get back here!"

----

This has been an idea of mine for quite some time. Rewatching the show was just the straw that broke this writer's back apparently. So happy to have finally written this ❤️

The Dangers Of Bows

Disclaimer: This is a tickle fic, so if that isn’t your thing, then just ignore this. 

Summary: Angel Dust likes pulling pranks. He really should have thought about his plan to prank Alastor a bit more thoroughly.

TW: Tickling (maybe a bit intense?), Restraints, Swearing, Mentions of Cannibalism, Angel Dust being Angel Dust.

Inspiration: This video

In Angel Dust’s defense, he thought it wouldn’t work.

In Angel’s defense, he thought someone would have stopped him.

In Angel’s defense, he thought Alastor would have noticed sooner.

In his defense, he had not expected the Overlord to be that distracted when talking with Rosie. The Cannibal Overlord had come to the hotel to get a good look at the new ‘business venture’ the Radio Demon had taken interest in. Apparently, talking to her put Alastor in such a good mood, he almost forgot where he was for a moment, and thus, didn’t feel the spider demon tie a bow around his tail.

Angel hadn’t even been aware Alastor even had a tail, until Niffty mentioned it off-handedly one day. That gave the spider an idea for a small prank, just a small one. Alastor also liked pranks, sure, but Angel didn’t want to end up double dead. Despite what people may think, he isn’t that stupid.

Or maybe he is, considering he went through with the prank, even though most of his instincts told him it was a terrible idea. He had waited until one of the rare days Alastor wasn’t wearing his trademark coat, and thus, his little deer tail was on full display. The Radio Demon only did this in the presence of Rosie, considering they had been friends for who knows how long.

“Certainly not as long as me and Al’!” Mimzy had said once.

The spider demon had honestly thought Alastor would have noticed his presence sooner, or caught onto Angel’s plans quicker. Hell, he was pretty sure Rosie had even seen him sneaking up on the deer, and yet, she didn’t say anything. Maybe she was curious as to how this would all turn out.

What Angel failed to remember was Alastor’s own shadow, which was almost like having a second Radio Demon. As soon as the bow was tied on, the spider let out a startled noise as Alastor’s shadow grabbed him, pulling him down and restraining Angel to the floor.

“My, you must have a double-death wish.” Alastor said calmly, looking over to the pinned pornstar. “Sneaking up on me while I’m having a conversation with an old friend?”

Angel let out a nervous chuckle. “Alright, you caught me Al.” He said, holding his hands up placatingly. “Dumbass move on my part, I know-”

“He tied a bow to your tail.” Rosie interrupted, casually sipping the tea Charlie had made.

Slowly, Alastor turned his head around to check if what his companion was saying was true. Angel had forgotten that the Radio Demon could turn his head like an owl, it being completely turned as he looked at his own tail. Sure enough, there was a bright pink, sparkly bow tied to the deer tail. Alastor’s head snapped back toward Angel’s direction, the pornstar instantly filled with dread.

“And you didn’t think to warn me beforehand?” He asked Rosie, incredulous.

“I think it’s cute~” She teased.

“A-Al, we can talk about this, r-right?” Angel pleaded, trying to crawl away. “I-It’s just a little joke, you know?”

Alastor seemed to consider this, scratching his chin in thought. “Well, my arachnid acquaintance, if you desired a laugh, you simply needed to ask.”

Before Angel could question what the Radio Demon meant, he saw it. The mischievous glint in Alastor’s eyes as he kneeled by the trapped spider. His shadow yoinked Angel’s arms upward, giving the deer easy access to his worst spots. Angel’s eyes widened, shaking his head frantically.

“W-Wait wait wait! Y-You don’t have to do this Al!” The nervous smile was already starting to form on his face.

“Do what~?” Alastor asked, before poking the spider’s sides. “I’m not doing anything.”

Angel bit his lip, trying to twist and turn away from the Radio Demon’s hands. It was useless, of course, as Alastor’s shadow held the spider firmly in place. The deer poked and prodded at Angel’s sides, his claws slowly, torturously tracing over the spot.

“Ah ah ah.” Alastor tutted when he noticed the spider biting his lip. “Why are you resisting now? You wanted a laugh, so I’m giving you one!”

“A-Ahahahal Ahahal I’m sohhohohorry! I-Ihihihih’ll lehehheeave yoohohohu aloohohohone!” Angel pleaded.

“You should have thought about that before, Angel.” Alastor chuckled.

Rather than go right for the spider’s worst spot, the Radio Demon decided to go for his own personal favorite spot: the ribs. He started at the top, just close enough to Angel’s armpits to get him nervous, before slowly dragging his claws down, tickling each rib with feather-like touches that made Angel lose it.

“S-Smihihihihles plehehehehease!”

“Sorry Angel.” Alastor said, not at all apologetic. “I am a cannibal, I just have to go for your ribs!”

Angel was about to let out another protest or plea, when he squealed as he felt a second set of hands tickling his stomach. He was regretting his decision to wear a crop top that day. Alastor raised an eyebrow, looking over and spying Rosie, who had her own grin.

“Oh Alastor, don’t you know the best part is the stomach?” Rosie asked, digging her nails into the spider’s fluffy belly.

“Really? Again with this discussion, Rosie?” Alastor asked, amused. “Ribs are the far superior meal.”

“Oh please, just look at how soft and tender the stomach is!”

Angel was losing his mind! Both Overlords were tickling him and acting like he wasn’t even there! He sputtered as he felt the Cannibal Overlord drag a finger slowly up the pink streak on his stomach.

“See? This one even comes with his own outline for where we could cut! Just open up this sensitive little belly~”

“Please, he’s so thin, I highly doubt his stomach would be of any value.”

Honestly, most people would be panicking from two cannibals talking about eating them or cutting open their stomach, but Angel knew that if Alastor really wanted to eat him, he wouldn’t bother with tickling him first. That just wasn’t who Al was, he wasn’t someone to give his victims comfort before eating them.

What Angel was panicking about was how close Rosie’s finger was getting to where his belly button would be. Before he could even attempt to beg, she dug right in.

“SHHIHIHIHIT SHIHIHIHIT!”

“See, Alastor? Listen to those little squeals!” Rosie teased.

Alastor let out his own amused chuckle. “Surely you’re joking. I think he’ll scream louder if I do this~”

Without warning, Alastor’s claws dig right into the top of the spider’s ribs, making him howl with laughter. Angel tried to squirm away, pull his arms down, anything to try to block out the sensations, but the Radio Demon’s shadow held firm. All the spider could do was kick his legs out, the only part of him not restrained currently.

“P-PLEHEHEHEASE PLHEHEHEASE IHIHIHIH’M SOHOHOHOHOHRRY!”

“You know, Angel, it’s rather rude to interrupt a conversation.” Alastor hummed. “Did no one teach you any manners?”

“Guess we’ll have to help him with that~” Rosie teased.

She ceased her tickling, allowing Angel to slightly catch his breath, still laughing as Alastor’s hands stayed at his ribs. The pornstar then felt Rosie hold onto his waist, his eyes widening as he realized what she was about to do. He pleaded, shaking his head as Rosie lowered her own toward his stomach.

“W-Wahahahit wahhahait dohohoohn’t!”

Angel’s pleas fell on deaf ears as Rosie blew a raspberry right into his stomach, making him squeal so loud, Alastor thought the whole hotel might hear. The Radio Demon hummed, deciding to show a little bit of mercy and cease tickling Angel’s ribs, allowing the pornstar to only focus on Rosie’s torment.

“I wonder if Husker knows about this little weakness of yours, Angel?” Alastor teased, humming a bit. “A few little raspberries and you’re practically a mess!”

Angel couldn’t help but blush as Alastor said that. The idea of Husk finding out how well raspberries worked on him making the spider both terrified and excited. He kind of hoped Alastor would tell the bartender, it’d save Angel the embarrassment of telling Husk himself. He was pulled out of those thoughts by another raspberry, and a few nibbles to his stomach.

As both Overlords noticed Angel’s laughter start to sound desperate, Rosie stopped her onslaught. Alastor snapped his fingers, his shadow releasing it’s hold, allowing the spider to curl up on himself, rubbing the spots where a few phantom tickles lingered.

“I do hope this goes without saying.” Alastor said, leaning near Angel’s face. “But I trust Rosie’s visit won’t be interrupted anymore?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, no more interruptions.” Angel said, catching his breath.

“Delightful!” Alastor said, before getting up and dusting himself off. He held out a hand to help Rosie up.

“Aww, don’t be too upset Alastor.” Rosie hummed, taking Alastor’s hand. “He’s such a cute little thing! No wonder Husker likes him~” She teased, leaning down and pinching Angel’s cheek slightly.

‘Little thing’ was ironic, considering Angel was the tallest person in the hotel. The way Rosie complimented/teased him was… weird, but nice. Like a mother or aunt teasing you about your crush. While Angel pushed himself up, Alastor snapped his fingers, the bow the spider tied around his tail now on said spider’s head.

“Pink isn’t really my color.” Alastor hummed.

“Were you more mad about the color than anything?” Angel asked, not putting it past the Radio Demon.

Alastor chuckled. “Not particularly. If it was blue like a certain Television, then, well, I wouldn’t have been as kind.” He said with a threatening grin.

Message heard, loud and clear. Don’t put anything blue on Alastor.

“Now then!” The Radio Demon said, turning to the Cannibal Overlord, holding out his arm for her “All of this has left me famished, shall we head out for a bite?”

“Oooh, you read my mind.” Rosie said, her smile full of teeth as she hooked her arm around Alastor’s, allowing the deer to lead her out of the hotel.

Alastor snapped his fingers one more time, his coat materializing onto him and covering his tail once more.

The Tickle Tax

A/N: I had a random urge to write something and I found this in my drafts- Decided to finish it up and post it :D I’ve been meaning to make some content for the spiderbros considering I love them sm- HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY !!

It had been a fairly peaceful morning for the spiderbros, which for them was like finding a needle in a haystack.. but a very VERY small one. The youngest spider was in his room, on his phone mostly just playing games, responding to the occasional text from a friend. What he couldn’t expect from this morning was to be charged with a very important bill..

His eyes shot up at the sound of the door suddenly opening, Peter 3 walking through with his hands on his hips in a playfully angry way. “Alright, cmon. Pay up bud.” He said, making a ‘pay me’ gesture with his hand just to add to it. “..What??” Peter 1 slightly raised an eyebrow, clearly confused by the sudden request as he placed his phone to the side. “What do you mean? Ihim not even 18 yet!”

“Well, they still demand the money, young sir! Please pay up now or I will get my lawyers involved!” Three said in a playful lady voice, getting a giggle out of the youngest. “Ihihi don’t have the mohohey!” He giggled out, backing away from him until he was at the end of the bed. “Well then, if you’re not able to pay in money.. You could pay another way..” The older brother teases, immediately giving One the hint when the wiggly fingers came in. His brown eyes widening. “..You have five seconds.”

Peter 1 took those 5 seconds as a luxury as he scrambled out of the bed, falling on the carpeted floor before returning to his feet and quickly sprinting out of the room, giggling while hearing his older brother behind him. “We got a runner! He’s got brown curly hair, and an adorable little giggle!” Peter 3 yelled, muffling his voice like an intercom while One squealed and quickly turned a corner. Quickly closing the door behind him and rushing into the closet, closing the doors and hiding behind all the hung up shirts. Slapping his hands over his mouth as he heard the door open, swallowing back more laughter when Peter 3 came in with his hands formed into a fake gun. “..Coast is clear, search the area!” He says into his fake intercom, hiding a shit eating grin when he heard familiar bubbly giggles from the closet. “Hmm.. I think we might’ve found our criminal mastermind righttt…”

“HERE!”

Three swung the closet doors open, grabbing the young spider who screeched when he was playfully thrown onto the bed. Giggling and trying to crawl away but being dragged back in by his brother, squawking as ten evil fingers vibrated into his sides. “AAAAHAHAHEEE!!- T-THREEhehehAHEEE!!!” He cackled out, kicking his legs and squirming like a worm. “I noticed you’ve been getting away with not getting tickled at ALL this week, so I had a talk with the tax payer and he said you owe gasp! 5 raspberries!?” “WHAHAHAT!?” The youngest squealed out, snorting up a storm when his brother’s fingers danced across his tummy. “Nononohoho leHEHEMEHE GOHOHOO!!”

“No can do, Uno! This is what happens to little spiders who don’t pay their bills!” The older man growled, pulling the young spider into a bear trap hug with a playful smirk. Peter 1 kicking his legs and squirming like a fish on a hook, his nervous giggles being interrupted by a loud squeal when Three blew a raspberry into the crook of his neck. Causing his younger brother to thrash and snort, a big dimpled grin glued onto his face. “HYAHAAHAHAA!!- NAHAHAHA THREEHEHEHEEEE!!- snort YoHOu AHAAASS!!” He cried out, getting a playful gasp out of the man.

“..WHAT did you call me!?”

“W-Wawawahait I-I didn’t mean it I-I sweheHEHEAAAA!!” His desperate attempts at apologies were cut short when Peter 3 buried his face into his tummy, blowing a big raspberry on the kid’s tummy button which elicited a girly shriek from him. “NAHAHAHAAA!!- THREEHEHEHEEE STAHAHAA!! snort snort” He squealed out, pulling a chuckle from the older spiderman. “Wohow, 2 in a row!? Man, just WAIT till dos hears this!” He laughed, poking around One’s tummy. “Hmm.. If my calculations are correct.. gasp you still owe 3 more raspberries!” Peter 1’s eyes bugged out hearing the number, being quick to try and scramble away however just being dragged back.

“Ah ah ah! You’re not running away on my watch!” He teased, blowing a prickly raspberry on the kids spine while his shirt was still lifted. Pulling a squeal from the spider’s lungs while he arched his back. Kicking his legs and squirming from side to side. “Come on, 2 more bud!” Three chuckled, dipping down to blow a raspberry on the kids side next.. ending it all off with one final one on his ribs. Lifting his head and leaving the poor kid in stitches, unable to stop giggling while his older bro rubbed his back.

“You still with me, Uno?” He giggled, the younger spider nodding as he flipped on his back. His face flushed while the grin on it had not come off. “..W-Whyhy did yohou- snort do thahahatt…” He whined, Peter 3 laughing as he ruffled his hair. “First rule of this household. Taxes and debts must always be paid.” He smiled, helping him up. Both of them jumping when the door suddenly opened. “Hey, I ordered some pizza and- woah… Seems you two were busy, huh?” Peter 2 chuckled seeing One’s disheveled hair and pink face. “He attempted tax fraud.” Peter 3 stated, Two rolling his eyes playfully. “..Well, better get down here before the pizza goes cold.”

Peter one wondered when his next payment would be…

Reblogging this cute gem for Father’s Day ❤️‍🩹🫶🏻💕

Cure For a Bad Day—MCU

No thots. Just a silly fluffy Irondad thought I had to turn into a story. :3 If you don’t like, don’t read. But if you’re here for Irondad fluff or just fluffy Marvel tickles, then come on in! OvO

Word Count: 5,000

Summary: After a rough week of school mishaps, Peter starts to doubt his future at being a good student and even being Spider-Man. It’s up to Tony Stark to remind Peter he’s still worth it, and bring back his mentor’s favorite smile. (This is a tickle fic duh, purely platonic)

Lee! Peter

Ler! Tony

If there was one thing Peter Parker was good at, was multitasking. How many other teens could juggle the responsibilities of high school while fighting crime almost every night in the not-so-friendly-neighborhood, and still manage to finish their homework on time for the next day?

Somehow he was able to do both.

But like any other student, he had his challenges. Like today, for example. Peter was in the middle of trying to finish a lab report essay for chemistry class. He was pretty stressed out, as he hadn’t had so much time to work on it for the past three weeks stopping midnight crimes and shenanigans almost four nights a week.

Now, here he was, hunched over at his desk, typing away at his laptop attempting to finish his lab report that was due tomorrow. He was mid-paragraph, stuck on page three out of the required five.

Normally, Peter would rack his science loving brain and throw something together quick, but tonight was different. He was having trouble figuring out more words and what to say in the report.

His eyes were starting to hurt from staring at his computer screen so long. His spine ached from being hunched over like a shrimp in his chair for hours. And his stomach growled; he had skipped dinner and was insistent with himself that he could have time to eat after he got his report done.

He looked at his bedside clock. 10:37pm. Oh come on! I’ll have to go to bed soon and I’m not even close to being done.

Peter sighed. Sometimes, his full time job being Spider-Man could really put a dent into his student life.

There was a knock at his door. “Peter? You alright?” the soft voice of his Aunt asked.

“I’m okay, Aunt May,” Peter stifled a yawn. “Just finishing up homework.”

“You said you were finishing up two hours ago.”

“Well this time, I mean it. I am almost done.”

“Alright if I come in?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

The sight of her tired, stressed, hunched over nephew saddened May. “Oh, Peter, you’ve been at that science report of yours all afternoon. Why not call it a night and get some rest?”

“I can’t,” Peter’s eyes stayed glued to his screen. The blinking curser that sat there unmoving for hours seemed to mock him. “I have to finish this tonight. This thing is worth a lot of my grade this semester.”

“Hmm, okay how about this?” May offered. “I’ll let you knock off school tomorrow, and send a note to your teachers that you’re out sick. It’ll give you an extra day to finish your report.” Her lips ruled into a soft grin. “Maybe after that, you and I can head off to the mall and buy you some more of those Squishables things you secretly like.”

Normally, Peter would laugh and jokingly say what a bad influence she was letting him cut school like that. But tonight, he didn’t even crack a smile. “No thanks. I’ll get this done before I go to sleep. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Aunt May saw that tonight would be one of those nights where Peter wouldn’t budge out of his zombie induced state. So she decided to let him be. “Alright then,” she sighed. “Just please don’t stay up past midnight. I don’t want to get another phone call saying you slept through class and other kids decided to draw on your face.”

“Yeah, will do.”

And with that, she shut the door.

Peter rubbed his eyes with a sigh. “C’mon…c’mon…gotta finish. Ugh! Why can’t I finish?” The teen was just about to give up and call it quits when the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood out on end. His Spidey tingle was going off!

Despite feeling achy and sluggish, he quickly stood up and tore off his clothes, slipping into his Spider-Man costume. He pulled his mask over his face and was about to jump out the window when he stopped himself.

Aunt May might come back to check if I really did go to sleep. Dang it! Ok uhh…oh wait! That’ll work!

Peter grabbed some day old clothes off the floor and shoved them under his blanket, pushing them into a sort of Peter-shaped lump. Hopefully, if his aunt came to check on him she wouldn’t look too closely.

Grabbing his phone, he hopped off the windowsill and swung out into the night.

By the time Peter managed to sneak back into his room through the window, he was exhausted. He felt like he was about to pass out as soon as he stepped into his bedroom.

He flopped onto his bed, lifting his Spidey mask off his sweaty face. He didn’t have the energy to take off his costume just yet. He was so tired.

He had stopped a home break-in coordinated by three criminals. Normally, a crime like a break-in was child’s play to Peter. But after spending the whole week fighting off crime and running on four hours of sleep, and topped with the stress of his recent assignment, Spider-Man suddenly didn’t have the energy to do a lot of fighting tonight.

His web-shooting was uncoordinated, one punch nearly knocked him out, and he appeared to be wobbly when he landed.

Even the criminals seemed to noticed how he wasn’t putting much of a fight, and taunted him while having their weapons pointed at the sleepy hero.

Peter barely managed to stop those three criminals, and earned himself a bruise on his jaw and knee. So by the time the boy made it home, the clock read 1:55am.

Peter wanted to scream in frustration. Well there goes another sleepless night, he thought as he quietly stripped himself out of his Spidey suit and grabbed a T-shirt from his floor pile.

He cringed as his brain calculated the few hours of sleep he would be getting again.

The next day at school turned out to be so much worse. First, Peter was late to his first class due to him sleeping through his many alarms he set for that morning. Next, he ended up forgetting his lunch—and even emergency lunch money—from rushing to get ready earlier. And then, as if that wasn’t enough to put him in a bad mood, he completely forgot about his lab report.

His stomach churned as he heard the teacher announce for everyone to hand in their reports to the front.

“Peter?” The voice of his best friend made him whip around.

“What is it, Ned?”

“What’s up with you?” Ned asked in a hushed whisper. “You look like you haven’t slept in a month, and you’re acting way jittery than normal.” Ned’s eyes widened. “Is it the spider sense?! Is there danger somewhere right now? Do you need me to come up with an excuse so you can get out of here?”

Peter could barely register his friend’s overlapping questions. “No, Ned, I don’t need anything. And it’s not that. I just…” he sighed, burying his face into his sweater covered arms. “Trouble in the neighborhood late at night, and I completely forgot to finish my lab report.”

“What?!” Ned whisper-shouted. “Y’know normally I’d scold you like your aunt does, but you look like you’ve been through enough already.” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Need me to make up some excuse? Save your skin at least a little?”

Peter shook his head miserably. “No point. I’m screwed enough as is here. Total failure.”

“Are you su—“

Their conversation was interrupted by the teacher snapping at them. “Parker? Your report, please.”

Uneasiness filled Peter’s stomach again. It felt borderline nauseous. He slowly walked up to the front desk. “I uh…don’t really have it physically with me right now.” He pointed towards his lab table. “I-It’s on my laptop.”

“Trouble printing it out?” The teacher asked.

“Something like that.” Peter could feel his cheeks growing warm.

The teacher sighed with a head shake. “Well then if you email it to me in the next three minutes, I’ll still give you credit. But next time, Peter, make sure you are able to find a reliable printing source ahead of time when you’re printing your reports. Don’t just try to print them last minute, that’s when these incidents happen.”

“Yes, of course.” Peter swallowed dryly as he shuffled back to his table. His fingers trembled as he opened his laptop, the unfinished pages of his lab report staring back at him. It felt like a punch to the gut. Well…something is better than nothing, right?

After school, the poor exhausted teen wanted nothing more than to go home, face plant onto his bed, and hope his mattress would swallow him up.

He was surprised to see a text message from Happy on his phone screen. Meet at the Avenger’s facility right after school. Your ride is waiting for you out front. New missions are heading your way. :) -Happy

New mission? That perked Peter up a little. At least he could forget about school for the weekend. Sulking in his room would have to wait. Right now, he was curious as to what sort of new mission awaited him at the Avengers’ headquarters!

The car trip didn’t take so much time. It did, however, leave the boy to replay the events that had just happened prior. He slumped in his seat. Suddenly, a new mission with the Avengers didn’t seem to excite him anymore.

Why can’t I just be more responsible? Peter bitterly asked himself. The other Avengers are able to juggle their normal lives and jobs and still manage to fight bad guys all without breaking a sweat. Heck, even Mr. Stark can do it. So why can’t I? *sigh* Am I really that bad of a student? What’s my future going to look like if I can’t even make it through high school?

Ugh! Why is your entire self worth and future determined by one stupid grade?!

Upon arrival, Peter didn’t seem as starry-eyed or ecstatic anymore. At least, that was the noticeable vibe Tony Stark noticed with his young mentee. He, in fact, looked in bad shape. Dark rings circled under his eyes, he looked disheveled like he had been sleeping under a bridge the whole week, and he seemed very anxious. Not the typical anxious-excitement Peter normally projected whenever he heard any mention of a potential new mission.

Tony wrapped an arm around the silently depressed teen. “So how goes it, kid? Survived another week of school?”

Peter scoffed. “Just barely.”

“I hear ya. But hey, cheer up. It looks like a certain web-slinging hero will be tagging along on more serious world-saving missions with the rest of us. Now how’s that upgrade for your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?”

The boy merely shrugged. “I guess it could be good for my rep. So long as I don’t screw anything up again.”

“Hey, look. You just made a couple mistakes, underoos. It happens to all of us when we’re starting out as heroes. But this a fresh start; a chance to really show the others and the world that your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man protects more than just the neighborhood and supermarkets. He protects the world, too.” He gave Peter’s shoulder a shake.

“Okay,” Peter said with a small sigh. Oh how he wished he could get back to sulking in his room right about now.

Tony started to grow more worried about his mentee that afternoon. He assumed the kid had a bad day at school or was simply tired after a long week, but this seemed much worse.

Peter didn’t go on mini gush-rants about random things. He didn’t spit out any science jokes or puns. He didn’t even quote any old movies. Peter Parker always quoted his vintage iconic quips and lines. It was like his second vocabulary—first vocabulary being talking in only Star Wars lines.

Something was really wrong. And Stark was not going to wait around any longer to find out.

When Tony finally found Peter, he was sitting upside down from the corner of the ceiling, the hood of his sweater almost covering his face, earbuds in and mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“Peter?”

Said teen took his earbuds out. His gaze softened when he met eyes with his mentor. “Oh, hey Mr. Stark. What brings you here?”

“That’s just what I want to ask you, kid. What are you doing up there by yourself?”

Peter shrugged. “Bored.”

“Bored?! In the freakin’ Avengers’ facility?”

“Well, sorry. Guess I’m just a little too tired today.”

He’s trying to avoid my question, Tony thought. “A better question would be, why have you been moping around since you got here? Happy even said that you were so quiet in the car ride here. No offense, kid, but you’re never the quiet type. Especially around Happy. So what gives?”

The boy averted his game. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just tired like I said. Y’know, keeping the neighborhood safe almost every night really drains your energy.”

“Cut the charades, kid,” Tony said firmly. “I wanna know what’s up with you. I’ve known you long enough to know that even with your nighttime gig as Spider-Man, you somehow always have enough energy to set Happy’s blood pressure spiraling, and annoy the rest of the Avengers with your weird vine refreshes and those picture things you call memes.”

Peter averted his gaze. How could he tell his mentor and biggest idol all the crappy events that took place that week? It wasn’t like it was a serious topic. It was just his own failure to be responsible.

“I don’t know,” he answered quietly.”

“Hmm…let me guess. Trouble at school?”

Peter looked up.” Maybe?”

“Alright, give me names here. A description of the punk. Who’s organs do I have to obliterate?”

“What? No, no, no, it’s not like that, Mr. Stark,” Peter quickly objected. “It’s just…rough days at school is all. And my student life.”

“I see. Want to come down from there and talk about it? I’ll have Happy make us some hot chocolate.”

“Alright.”

The warm hot chocolate was very comforting. After the long harsh week of events, a hot comforting drink was just what Peter needed. And it helped ease the hesitance he had earlier so he was able to come clean about what had happened.

“Wow,” Tony said, finally breaking the silence. “It sounds like the week really treated you terribly.”

“Tell me about it.” Peter fixed his gaze on his cup.

“Hey, listen, kid. You just had a bad week. Things will get better. You gotta believe that.”

The teen hero frowned. “How do you know I won’t keep failing? I’ve been screwing up nonstop this entire week. And even when I try to do better, everything always turns out worse. It’s like the universe hates me because I’m Spider-Man.”

Before Tony could respond, Peter kept talking. “And its so dumb, too. This whole situation. I’m sitting here whining about something that could’ve been avoidable if I had been a more responsible student. There’s no one to blame but me. And look at you, Mr. Stark. If you were in my shoes, you wouldn’t be a failing student just because you’re Ironman. I just want to do better, but I don’t feel like I can. And I know the school system doesn’t believe I can either.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Tony protested. “You’re a brilliant kid, Peter. Yes, you’re going to hit roadblocks along the way with your full time gig as Spider-Man and as a full time student, but you’re going to be fine. You just need a little encouragement. When you’re out there saving the neighborhood and face-to-face with an enemy that makes you feel like it’s hopeless, I’ve noticed that you never back down. No matter how difficult it is. This right here isn’t any different.

And if the crappy school system that’s been putting too much pressure on their students and treating them like garbage doesn’t believe in you, I do. I believe you can do it, Peter. You’re so much stronger than you think you are.”

Peter almost wanted to tear up at the words his mentor was telling him. Damn, he really was good at this inspirational uplifting speech thing. Maybe even better than Captain America.

He couldn’t stop the tears, though. He had been feeling so emotional this entire week and after hearing Tony freakin’ Stark rant about how he was worth it despite everything he was feeling, Peter really needed to let some tears out.

Seeing the boy’s eyes fill with tears made Tony panic. Had he made the kid feel worse with his words? “Oh god, are you alright? Did i go too far with that?”

Peter let out a breathy laugh. “No, no, you’re good.” He sniffed, and wiped his tears with his sweater sleeve. “Sorry I got emotional back there. Your uplifting speech just got me teary-eyed. Thanks, Mr. Stark. I guess I really needed to hear that.”

Tony gave the teen’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Anytime, kiddo. Glad I could help. Now, I do want to help out with your school problem a little so you’re not feeling traumatized Monday morning.”

The boy tilted his head like a curious puppy. “Huh? What do you mean help out?”

“Well I sort of did a little research on what your next assignments for the week are going to be on for your classes. And I took the liberty to have FRIDAY complete next week’s assignments so you’ll have the entire week off to not worry about your homework.”

“You…wait, are you saying that you had FRIDAY hack into my teachers’ lesson plans and did all my homework for me?!”

Tony nodded, stirring his half drunk mug with a spoon. “Yup. Your homework’s done with all the right answers so it’ll guarantee to bring your grades back up to an A+.” He paused. “Well, an A- to make it seem like you did it.”

Peter didn’t know if he should feel grateful or disbelief. “I-I…thank you? I guess?”

Tony smirked. “What, that’s it? I do you a favor here so you can have the week off. You can have more time to focus on your web-slinging career, or use the extra time to take a nap in home room, or stare at girls more between classes.”

Peter blushed at that last comment. “Okay, fine. Thank you, Mr. Stark. I really appreciate it.” For the first time that week, Peter smiled. A genuine warm smile. Then his face melted to concern. “Wait…do you think that it’s cheating?”

“Uhh….nah,” Tony assured him with a wave of his hand. “Hey, as long as it gets you the grades you deserve. Besides, you aren’t even going to use 90% of the crap they teach you in school. You’re gonna forget it immediately anyways.”

Peter giggled, covering his mouth with his sleeve. “Oh my god, Mr. Stark. You’re just as a bad influence as May.”

“Good! Maybe you can learn something here about all the shortcuts and loopholes to high school.”

“There are noho loopholes or shortcuhuhuts to high school!”

“Hell yeah there are! How do you think I got to where I am today?” Tony gestured to himself. “You think all of this happened by being a full time student? No way. High school did nothing to help me be who I am today. All it did was give me anxiety, student debt, and unrealistic expectations on what I needed to thrive in the real world. Oh yeah, high school teaches you nothing on how to adult or pay your bills. But hey, at least they teach you that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, right?”

Peter could not stop his giggles anymore. His giggles turned to laughter, and even while trying to muffle them through his sleeves, Tony could see the corner of his smile and the blush that dusted his cheeks.

It was always so easy to make the kid laugh, and Tony always liked to take advantage of it every time.

“Y-You’re terrihihible, Mr. Stark!” Peter said through his bright laughter. “A bahahad influence! Y-You’re even worse thahahn Loki!”

“Excuuuuse me?!” Tony pretended to be offended. He sat up, scraping the chair back, which made Peter’s eyes widen in alarm.

“Wait, no!” Peter surprised Tony by flipping onto the ceiling. “Don’t—Don’t tickle me, Mr. Stark!” Peter had had enough recent experience knowing what that look meant every time Tony got up from his seat. Having his own mentor know of his one dreaded weakness—the fact that he was insanely ticklish—and using that to mess with him anytime he got depressed or a little too snarky always flustered him to bits.

Tony grinned up at the spider teen on the ceiling. “Huh? Tickle you? Now why on earth would I do that? Oh right, because your ticklishness got dialed up to eleven from the spider bite. Isn’t that what you told me?”

Peter’s blush darkened. “S-Stop saying that so casually! I now what you’re up to!”

“Hey, I’m not up to anything. And honestly, I wasn’t going to tickle you.” A sinister smirk spread across his mentor’s face. “But since that was the first thought that crossed your mind…”

Peter’s tummy did fluttery flip flops. “Oh c’mon!! Mr. Stark nohoho! Dohohon’t you dare!”

“Too late. FRIDAY, a little help?”

“Yep. On it.”

The poor flustered teen squealed in alarm as one of Tony’s Ironman suits came flying over to him, trying to pry him off the ceiling. It was surprisingly easy, as Peter was already too giggly and flustered to concentrate on his sticking to the ceiling.

With Peter off the ceiling, he was dumped ungracefully onto the floor in front of Tony where the Iron suit immediately grabbed and pinned the kid’s wrists above his head.

“What the—FRIDAY you traitohohor!” Peter squawked. He pulled on his wrists, internally pouting that his spider strength wasn’t working in that moment.

“Hey now, don’t you insult FRIDAY,” Tony playfully scolded with a poke to the boy’s stomach. Peter squeaked at the touch. “We’re just here to help you out. I know how rough it’s been with school lately, and I don’t want to lose my underoos just because of that. You’ve been real upset ever since you got here and I know you’ve been upset all week. So no more of that now. You should know the Avengers’ facility is a no-sadness zone!”

And with that said, Tony right away scribbled both hands into his kid’s belly, making Peter screech.

“EeeAAAHAAaahahaaa! HeHEHE—Heyyyy! No faHAHAhahair!” Peter thrashed and kicked, instinctively trying to pull his arms down to no avail. “Mr. Stahahark! Nohoho pleasHEEAheeheehease!”

“Sorry, no can do, kiddo,” Tony casually answered over his mentee’s squeaky laughter. “I haven’t seen my underoos’ favorite smile in forever so I’m making up for lost time!”

“B-But nohohot like tha—HAAAHA! Heheheyyy!” Peter arched his back as Tony’s fingers crept up to his ribs. His blush now spread to the tips of his ears. He was cursing internally at how his Spidey strength was suddenly no longer there as he was laughing like a maniac.

Any other intense situation, Spider-Man would be able to easily get himself out of, but this was different. The ticklish sensations buzzing throughout his nervous system plus all his laughing was sapping any strength he had left, including his spider strength.

As Tony let his fingers inch closer to the teen’s underarms, he was playfully shocked when Peter tried to bite him. He pulled his hands back with a gasp.

“Whoa! What the heck was that?! What are you, a biting tarantula now?”

“You were getting too close to my armpits!” Peter shot back.

“Ohhhh I see.” Tony flashed him an evil grin that reminded Peter of that creepy, murderous knife-hiding doll from that 80s movie that always came back from the dead. “That’s your death spot, isn’t it?”

Peter shifted uncomfortably, his blush darkening. “N-No..?”

“Wrong answer.”

“AAAAAAHHERRHWHRHFEAAHAAAAAHAAAHA!! No Mr. Stahahahark!! NAAAHAHAHAO!!” Peter squirmed like a fish out of water, his body instinctively trying to twist away from Tony’s evil scribbling fingers. But no matter which way he turned, it didn’t help much. Tony’s fingers seemed glued to his hollows.

“EEEEAAAAHEHEEHHAAAA!! M-MR STAHAHARK!! IT…IHIHIT REALLY TIHIHAHAHA TIHIHICKLES BAAAAHAHAHD!!”

“That’s the point, kiddo! It’s more—whoa! You are just extra kicky today, aren’t you? FRIDAY, a little help here?”

“NOOOHOHOHO!”

Tony and FRIDAY had switched places; FRIDAY grabbing ahold of Peter’s flailing legs while Tony grabbed the boy’s wrists in one hand. Even as the two switched places, Tony couldn’t help but notice how Peter wasn’t putting up a fight to get away. He could’ve easily gotten up and bolted the second they let go of his limbs, or curl up with his arms wrapped around his torso so they couldn’t bring his arms up anymore, but he just laid there with a silly smile and blushy cheeks. Almost as if he secretly wanted this to keep going.

Tony had to ask the billion dollar question. “Y’know Pete, despite all your complaints, you’re not even putting up a fight to stop me or FRIDAY. Could it be because…you actually like this? You like getting tickled?”

Peter fell silent. He looked anywhere but his mentor’s eyes. He opened his mouth to answer but all that came out was stutters and keyboard smashes.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Really? Look, I’m barely holding down your arms here and you’re not even trying to get away!” Peter’s face felt like was on fire now. “You know you can easily break out of my grip—even FRIDAY’s—and hightail it outta here, buuuut…I’m starting to think you don’t want to. Am I right or what?”

“I-I…” was all that came out of Peter’s mouth. Finally, he sighed and locked eyes with his mentor. His flustered, trembling lip suddenly curled into a crap-eating grin. With a defiant smirk, Peter stuck his tongue out. “Bite me, old man!”

Tony’s mouth formed a perfect O. Oh the kid was so asking for it! Recovering in a millisecond, Tony cracked his knuckled for dramatic effect. “That’s it! You’re finished, kid! You know I’m sensitive about my age!”

Peter actually had the nerve to stick his tongue out at him again.

Okay, so maybe truthfully he didn’t want this playful attack to cease. It was a great stress reliever after the rough week he endured. And if Peter wanted to dig a little deeper into it, while he was being tickled to pieces and screeching at frequencies only dogs should hear, he couldn’t think of all the bad things that had happened—his lab report incident, academic pressure, or even any general insecurities he had as Peter Parker and Spider-Man.

All he could think about in the heat of the moment was the playful ticklish feeling, the waves of dopamine, and the pure fun bonding vibe. So despite all the squealing and squirming, Peter was genuinely having fun. He’d be bummed if Tony stopped so soon. So he had to provoke his mentor some more to keep the fun going.

And that’s just what he did.

Oh, but if only FRIDAY hadn’t been traitorous enough to actually look up other sorts of tickling methods and suggest them to Tony to use against Peter.

“W-Wait! Wahahahit!! NonononoAAAAAAHAHAHEEHEHAHAAAA!! EEEEEHHAAAHAEHE!! THAT FEEHEEHEEHEELS AHAHA—AWFUFUFUL!! *snort* NAAAAAAHEHEAAHAAAAHAHAAA!!”

“Did you just snort, kid?!”

“N-Nohoho!! Shuhuhut uhuhup!! AAAAH! Waitwaitwait!! I tahahahake it baHAAAAAAHAHAAAAA!!”

Better hope that none of the Avengers nor his enemies finds out about Spider-Man’s adorable little weakness.

~ 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚙𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚆𝙰𝚂𝚂𝚄𝙿 𝚈’𝙰𝙻𝙻 🔥⁉️ 𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚈 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙸𝙽 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝚂𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚆𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰𝙶𝙰𝙸𝙽— 𝙴𝚇𝙿𝙴𝙲𝚃 𝙰 𝙻𝙾𝚃𝚃𝚃𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙵𝙸𝙲𝚂 𝙱𝙲 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙷 𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚁𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟻,𝟽𝟶𝟿

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡 (𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑 🐢❤️)

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑 🐢❤️ (𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡)

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑’𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖.

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚃*𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙳𝙽𝙸 𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜— 𝚢’𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚢 <𝟹)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜 𝚋𝚌 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝: @tiggleebug @tmnt-th1ngs @creativecutie

@veryblushyswitch @snugglyfluffle @kanene-yaaay

@someone1348 @vxlepop @what-youd-expect

@ziipzeepzop-eez @my-l0v3r-v3rse @skye-minecraftyt-blog

@augonot @soft--dragon @titters-and-tingles

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐— 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚖, 𝚙𝚕𝚣 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 ❤️🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“No.”

“But Raph—”

“No.”

“But Raphie—”

“No.”

“But—”

“I literally just said no, Mikey.”

“But Raaaaaaphhhh, I’m bored!” The youngest groaned, flopping onto the second oldest’s bed dramatically. The second oldest in question raised an unamused brow, looking up from his comic where his little brother laid in front of him. The red banded turtle sighed, going back to reading his novel calmly and ignoring the younger turtle completely. 

Now, if you couldn’t tell by Mikey’s whole demeanor, or the fact that he just stated so…he was bored. VERY bored. EXTREMELY bored. 

TREMENDOUSLY bored if you will.

And if the youngest was bored, you’d best believe you’d hear him complaining all day in and all day out until he found something to occupy himself with. And Raph? Well, the young teen personally did not have the time nor patience to deal with all of that today. 

Or any day really.

“For the millionth time, Mike— I’m busy. Go bother Don or somethin'.” The hot-head grumbled, flipping through the pages of the comic book he was currently reading. The other rolled his eyes, turning his head to his older brother, “Don’t you think I already did that?” Raph chuckled at the statement. “Oh really? And how’d that go?”

“He threw a beaker at me…but I think it had acid in it—“

Raph visibly shuddered, “Okie-dokie then. Another reason for you to get out of my room. Buh-bye. Sayonara. Thanks for stopping by. Adios amigo.” He demanded, pushing Mikey’s face with his foot but the youngest stubbornly stood his ground. He pushed back with his head until the other eventually gave up, throwing his comic book at him in frustration. 

Mikey got up from the bed, annoyingly whining again.

“Just do an activity with me or something…! He huffed, shaking Raph by the shoulders back and forth. “I can show you the way out of my room! That can be an activity we can do together!” The red banded teen smiled with a fake sweet tone, which only caused the other’s frown to deepen. 

“I’ll never ask you for anything ever agaiiiiinnn! Just do something with meeee! Pleeaseee?!” Raph had to bite back a grin when he heard that bargain. In the next 5 minutes, Mikey would probably ask him to do the hokey-pokey or some shit like that. The second oldest let out a long yet playful sigh, rubbing his temples before crossing his arms. “Fine fine…what do you wanna do?” 

The youngest blinked, rubbing the back of his head and looking away for a bit. Well…Raph was surprisingly easy to convince today. It usually took him a solid 2 hours and 30 minutes (he’s counted) until he cracked. Usually 1 hour and 15 minutes on a good day…

“That’s…a very good question…I’ll get back to you on that…” The smaller turtle muttered. Raph tilted his head in complete and utter disbelief. “You came in here harassing me for, like, an hour straight talking about how you wanna spend time with me and now you don’t even know what you wanna do?!”

“I’m thinking, okay?! Don’t get your tits in a twist!” Mikey huffed at his older brother. 

“Don’t get my what in a what???”

The youngest then suddenly snapped his fingers, smiling brightly and turning to the second oldest, “We should play a video game!”

“Like…Fall Guys or something? Dude, I’ve beat you anytime we’ve played two player. Just accept your many MANY losses.” The green eyed mutant teased, laughing at the offended expression Mikey was giving him now.

“I think you might have hit your head a bit too hard when we came from the ooze, my dear friend. Because I clearly remember you losing when we were playing last weekend.” The orange banded teen challenged, sticking his tongue out at Raph who only scoffed in amusement, resting his hand on his hip. 

“I was being a good big brother and let you win.” He retorted. Mikey rolled his eyes, knowing full damn well Raph just sucked absolute ass and didn’t want to admit it. “Yeah yeah, whatever. But, no. I have an even better thing in mind. And it’s a board game.”

A pause.

“…so are you gonna tell me what the board game is?” Raph asked impatiently. 

“I’m pausing for emphasis! I request a drumroll, please.” 

…oh for the love of…

Raph sighed, drumming his hands on his bed for a couple seconds before stopping, waiting for Mikey to tell him the name of this soooo special game that he couldn’t just tell him already.

Because emphasis or whatever.

“Twister!” Mikey smiled, clapping his hands excitedly. “Twister.” Raph repeated, his eye-ridges (is that what they’re called—? Idk…) raising in surprise as he scratched the top of his head confused. “Why Twister of all things? We haven’t played that game since we were, like, 7.”

The blue-eyed mutant shrugged, leaning against his big brother’s beside and lazily checking his nails. “Eh. No reason. Just what first came to mind. What? Afraid you’ll lose, Raphie boy~?” He smirked, looking up at the taller green eyed mutant who only chuckled at his taunt. 

“Oh please. That game is so easy I could play it in my sleep.” He smirked, looking down at Mikey who only had a satisfied grin plastered on his face.

Raph was lying— lying right through his teeth in fact. He wasn’t good at Twister— he wasn’t even semi-good. He didn’t even qualify anywhere near semi-good when it came to Twister. Raph wasn’t the most…flexible turtle of the bunch, which made it hard to do some, if not most of the poses Twister had conjured up for you. 

And usually, he wouldn’t care so much about losing a game. Heck, it was Twister for crying out loud. But Raphael grew up with a family of competitors.

And so, he was competitive. Very competitive.

He didn’t like to lose— in fact, he hated losing. He’d rather beat up Kraang droids all day than lose. 

Well…he’d beat up Kraang droids any day but that’s beside the point! 

Point was, he absolutely sucked at Twister, period. And personally? It wouldn’t be so bad if he was going against Leo, heck— even Casey Goongala Jones himself would be a better opponent than Mikey.

If Mikey won (which he always did), he would make sure you knew all day in and all day out that he beat you. It was annoying as hell and that would only fuel Mikey more into reminding you that you lost against him. 

And like stated before…Raph did not like losing. He didn’t like it one bit. 

The elder straightened up his slouched posture, extending his hand to do a hand shake, which the youngest gladly accepted. “I accept your offer. But don’t be disappointed when I completely annihilate you.”  

“We’ll see about that.” Mikey chirped, grabbing Raph’s arm and almost soaring out of the room with him. 

Aaaaand so that’s where the two were now; spreading the well known dotted mat onto the floor carefully in front of the TV. The two spun a couple times already, the positions that were being requested weren’t hard. At first…just subtle movements here and there. Until Raph had his whole arm underneath Mikey and Mikey had his whole arm under Raph’s…

And by 12 turn’s, they were intertwining each other like a bunch of yarn. Raph, surprisingly, was doing really well. His stance being something along the lines of a downwards dog and a corpse pose— if that makes sense. Which it doesn’t. Because it’s Twister. Twister doesn’t make any sense in the slightest. 

Mikey on the other hand, was not doing so hot. His stance was just basically the Family Guy dead pose but just slightly standing. With every spin of that darn evil plastic wheel, the younger teen seemed to be getting more and more difficult adjustments, while Raph barely had to move a finger. Or…limb in this case. 

The turtle gods were on his big brother’s side today and Mikey was not having it. 

“Doing alright, bro?” The hot-head smugly asked, his voice a little strained due to the odd positing but a teasing grin was on his face nonetheless. “You’re shaking a bit there…” He mused at his little brother, whose limbs were shaking like a bunch of conjoined jello conjoined.

The smaller mutant then fixed his footing, not shaking anymore as he looked up at Raph, smirking smugly right back at him. “Oh I’m fine, big bro. Just. Fine.” The orange banded turtle gritted out.

Now, Mikey wasn’t going to lie, but this whole Twister thing was starting to not seem like such a good idea. His older brother was a complete abomination when it came to Twister! But apparently, he seemed like he was getting every single easy position, and he was doing a pretty decent job at it— and Raph…Raphael has NEVER done decent! 

Mikey, on the other hand, was struggling. He might as well become the actual mascot for the game or something because his arms and legs were getting twisted like actual Twizzlers. It’s probably not even normal for his body to twist like this, but hey! He’s not losing and that’s all that matters, right? 

But he couldn’t keep this act on forever. He was going to fall sooner or later if he didn’t do something fast. 

The younger tried to move to spin the wheel but almost fell in the process; catching himself at the last second. “Yeah…I won’t be able to reach it…” The elder hummed in acknowledgement, also attempting to spin the wheel but ultimately failing as well.

Conveniently, a couple seconds later, the eldest turtle of the four quadruplets walked out of his room, walking into the lounge area where the two were playing Twister. Leo looked the two up and down before sighing, rubbing his face tiredly.

“It’s too early for this…” He grumbled, going to the kitchen to refill his tea cup. Raph and Mikey shared a confused glance with each other, before looking at the other turtle with even more confusion.

“It’s 4 in the afternoon…” The youngest giggled. Leo turned around, glaring at the both of them. And if looks could kill…Mikey would’ve been nothing but a bare shell.

“Yeah. And my statement still stands. It’s too early for this…” The blue banded turtle repeated, taking a sip of a now full tea cup. “Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go read some Captain Ryan x reader fanfiction…” He grumbled with the most deadpanned face and voice ever, but you could tell by the sparkle in his eyes that he was genuinely excited.

The young leader was probably too tired to acknowledge what he just said…oh well. More blackmail for Mikey then.

“Leo, wait! We need you to spin the spinny thingie!” The second oldest yelled in impatience. This stance was starting to hurt like shell! And losing is not an option here!

Leo turned around, looking his brother up and down again before sipping his tea again. “Do it yourself.” 

“I can’t, wise guy! The spinny whatchamacallit is all the way over there! If I try to spin it, I’ll lose!” Raph explained which only resulted in Leo blinking once before rolling his eyes.

“Then lose.” And with that, the young leader walked to his room, chuckling a bit to himself as he closed his door. “Smug bastard…” The red banded turtle grumbled under his breath.

After a few moments of thinking, Mikey decided he needed to do something to try and get an advantage in this game. That’s when he reached up with one hand and jabbed Raph in the side lightly.

The elder flinched violently, drawing out a surprised and loud shriek, but stubbornly staying in the same position he was before. The second oldest glared at his younger brother, who had the most innocent smile plastered on his face.

“Michelangelo. Hamato.” He warned, his glare hardening. “Poke me again and see what happens.” He said threateningly, which only caused the younger in question to innocently bat his eyes at him, continuously poking around his side.

“Mihihike— shihihit!” Raph cursed, trying to squirm out of reach of the poking with the little room he had. Mikey continued to tickle him, now moving his fingers to scribble on his stomach, which obviously made Raph shriek louder.

“MIHIHIKEY!” 

“Aw…there’s that smile!” The youngest grinned. And finally, to the smaller turtle’s delight, the older fell down on his shell, officially concluding the game and granting Mikey his 100% hard earned victory. 

“I won!” The menace giggled, doing a small little victory dance on the mat before he made eye contact with Raph— who looked like he was ready to KILL.

Victory dance over. Victory dance WAY WAY over. 

The younger got up almost immediately, quickly backing away as the other turtle scaringly followed right behind him. “W-Wait wahait…dude, bro, my man…we can talk about this! We can talk this out like the civilized mature mutants we are! There’s noho need to doohoo anything drahastic…” He rambled, taking multiple upon multiple steps back as Raph inched closer and closer towards him, game obviously loooong forgotten at this point.

The elder cracked his knuckles, an evil smirk spreading across his face almost like a wildfire. And that, ladies and gentleman, was enough evidence for Mikey to know that he was absolutely in for it.

The youngest bolted for Donnie’s lab, running as fast as his little legs could carry him, only to be hoisted onto his big brother’s shoulder as the red banded turtle walked back to the lounge area.

Nervous giggles escaped Mikey’s mouth as he tried to get out of his older brother’s grip, squirming, pushing, kicking— basically all the things he could do in this oh-so-horrible-situation-that-he-definitely-did-not-plan-out-what-so-ever!

Raph put Mikey on the ground, sitting on his legs. “Mihike, I haven’t even done anything yet...” He commented at the squirmy giggly mess that was his youngest brother. Mikey snickered, a small blush creeping to his face. “Shuhut it!“ He squeaked as he felt three fingers on his sides, not moving but just resting there in anticipation. 

The youngest helplessly held the taller turtle’s wrists, shaking his head back and forth while sputtering out giggly pleases as his eyes were closed shut. “What’s gotten you so giggly?” Raph asked innocently, smirking down at his baby brother who was currently losing his mind.

“Just gehehet it oveheher wihith already!” He giggled desperately. If getting absolutely wrecked wasn’t gonna kill him…then the anticipation definitely would.

“Get whahat over with, Mike? I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about…” The orange banded turtle lightly smacked at Raph’s arm, loving and hating every single second of this. Mikey looked to the side, hiding his head in his shell a tiny bit out of embarrassment. 

“Is there…something specific you’re talking about? Something oh-so embarrassing that you apparently can’t even say it out loud?” Raph grinned, his fingers clamping lightly on his sides as the other giggly whined in annoyance and desperation. 

“Will yohou plehease juhust tihihickle me already???” The smallest turtle squeaked; the last part barely audible to the turtle ear and of course Raph felt the need to comment on it. 

“Hm? What was that~? I couldn’t quite hear you…” He smirked, his fingers twitching against the other’s sides. 

“Rahaph!!”

“You gotta speak louder, bud. I can hardly hear you.”

“Rahahaphie plehease!”

“Well since you asked so nicely…” Raphael smiled, starting to actually tickle Mikey’s sides now.

“You know, you could have just…told me you wanted me to tickle you, instead of doing the whole ‘let’s play Twister’ bullshit.” The taller turtle stated calmly, only causing Mikey’s blush to deepen. 

Was he seriously that easy to read? Well that’s embarrassing…he honestly thought he had his older brother fooled with the whole ‘Let’s play Twister bullshit.’

Random fun fact, one of the best and worst things about being tickled by Raph was that he could just casually say the t-word as if it was an everyday word as you can see.

Well…in retrospect it is an everyday word.

But it’s a very embarrassing everyday word.

A very VERY embarrassing everyday word.

And you best believe he always used it as an advantage to gain the upper hand in every situation. Whether he was tickling one of his brothers or not…you bet he would randomly use it in a sentence.

“Literally what are you talking aboHOUT?” Mikey screeched as Raph prodded and poked his lower ribs. “Oh, don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I mean.” The second oldest smirked. “Playing duhumb is not my forte— thahat was yohou duhuhuring Twister.” Mikey managed to giggle out.

Raph sent daggers to Mikey as he pinned one of his hands to the carpeted floor, digging his free hand into his exposed underarm. 

The blue eyed mutant automatically squawked at the sudden sensation, trying desperately to pull his arm back down. The other let out a satisfied huff from the noise, “You were saying~?”

 “ScREHEHEW YOHOU!” He squawked. Raph flinched slightly at the turtle belle’s sudden yell but chuckled at it nonetheless. Oh this is gonna be so so easy…

Mikey’s feet helplessly kicked behind Raph, his legs going up into the air every so slightly every now and again. “Your gonna break the sound barrier with all that screaming, baby brother...” Raph commented.

“But, you okay? You’re voice raised a bit there…” He asked as he heard Mikey’s laughter spike up suddenly. The youngest wiped a couple happy tears from his eyes, giggling still. “Yeah, yeah…I’m okay…”

Raph nodded at the response, rubbing some of the ghost tickles away before going back to tickling him, now squeezing his hip area.

The freckled turtle’s eyes completely shot out of his sockets as and of course his big brother had to make a smart remark.

“Uh oh…did I happen to find a bad spot?” Raph smirked, raising a brow as the younger shook his head back and forth. “NOHO! NAHAT THEHERE! RAHAPH! PLEHEASE!” The teenager cackled loudly, grabbing the other’s wrists but making no attempt to push them away of course.

“Not there?? Whaddya mean not there~? You mean right…here?” Raph giggled, “Right here? Is this a bad spot, Mike?” He questioned innocently.

“RAHAPH *squeak* PLEHEASE!” Mikey squealed. “Please what? I can’t understand you because of my little brother’s mouse squeaks. Sorry man…” Raph said as he dramatically wiped a tear from his eye, before going back to tickling Mikey’s hip area.

“SHUHU— *squeak* SHUHUT UHUP!”

At times like this, you would not question the fact that Mikey’s Dad is a 6'2 rat mutant. Just listening to his laugh you could hear the resemblance.

“My gahaHAHASH! JuhUST STAHAP!” He whined throughout his laughter as Raph continued to knead his hip bones, causing Mikey’s laughter to rise in volume tremendously now and again.

The youngest arched his back with a loud squeal, pushing on his older brother’s wrists again as he tried to turn himself so his shell was facing upward.

“Now where do you think your goin'?” Raph snickered, now using both his hands to tickle Mikey’s underarms now, instead of just tickling one.

“WAHAHAIT! WAHA— *squeal* WAHAIT! IHIHIT TIHI— *squeak* NAHAHAH!” The youngest stammered through his laughter, his bandana long gone off of his face due to how much he was squirming around.

“It tickles? Ya don’t say.” Raph deadpanned, snickering at the small squeal the turtle below him let out after the comment. “Can Dr. Name-Einstein not take what he dishes out~?” He continued, digging deeper in Mikey’s underarms.

“Tickle tickle tickle~!”

“NoHOH—!”

“Tickle tickle~! Kitchie kitchie coo~!”

“SHUHUT— *squeak* SHUHUT YOUR MOHOUTH!”

“Aww…well, that’s not very nice, now is it?” The green eyed teen fake pouted, continuing to tickle Mikey’s underarms, but slipping his hands out every now and again to poke the other’s neck lightly before going back in.

“Ahh tkltkltkl….ahh tkltkltkl— what? I’m abbreviating it for you because you hate that word soooo much, see? Ahh tkltkltkl…”

“IHI’M GOHONNA MUHUHURDER YOHOU!” The youngest shrieked, banging his heels on the floor in a futile attempt to escape his big brother’s VERY mean comments. “Oh yeah? You and with what hands, little man~?” Raph grinned, grabbing both of Mikey’s wrists to put above his head, scribbling all over his stomach.

Mikey’s hyena cackling only raised in volume after that. Raph evil laughed at the reaction, chuckling to himself as he tickled the younger to pieces.

“Woah. I think I hit the jackpot…what do you think, Mike?”

Mikey squeaked.

“Yeah, I think so too.”

Behind all the evil laughing and teasing, Raph took glances at his baby brother’s face every now and again to make sure that he was actually enjoying himself; and that he wasn’t uncomfortable in any way.

…And before you even think of calling him a softie for thinking this, being a softie and being caring are two completely different things.

Don’t get them twisted.

Anyways, even if Raph never openly says so or displays so…he genuinely cares about his brothers, and if he ever hurt them in any way, physically or mentally…just know that he’s taking that with him to the grave. No further questions asked.

Unfortunately for the youngest, this didn’t mean Raph would be merciful while tickling him in any way, shape, or form right now…

But Raph didn’t want his baby brother’s voice disappearing all the way to Timbuktu, so stopping right now would suffice.

The older turtle ceased his tickling onslaught, crossing his arms across his plastron to glance at the flustered and oh-so giggly mess he created.

“Yohou…suhuck…” The maskless turtle giggled, refusing to look at his big brother who just snickered at the purely adorable behavior.

“Yohou okay?” The elder turtle asked, “Like seriously, I didn’t hurt you or anything, right?” He asked genuinely. And now wasn’t that sweet? Asking if someone was okay after almost committing a first degree murder to said person. Yeah. Reeeeaaal sweet alright.

“Mhm…yeah I’m okahay…” He nodded, sitting up slightly to look for his mask that flew over to who knows where.

”I don’t remember your stomach being that ticklish, Mike.” Raph teased, snickering softly at his comment which Mikey only rolled his eyes to. “Whehell, my neck isn’t embarrassingly sehensitive. Especially the bahahack ohof ihihit. I don’t thihink yohou can relate, but I’m juhust putting thahat out there…”

…Remember how I said Raph loved his brother very dearly? Well…forget it. Stopping right now would not suffice. It would do anything but suffice.

The hot-head simply gave his little brother a look that would be known as the look of ‘You are getting your shell HANDED to you.’ Now Leonardo was the turtle who invented this scary yet effective gaze (because of course he did…)

And so naturally, the look got passed down to Raph. Then to Donnie. And even Splinter found a way how to.

The youngest on the other hand, never really had any reason to learn the look, as he had wonderful looks of his own. Obviously.

But now…he was kinda wishing he did, so that the look didn’t look so scary (see what I did there? I’m hilarious, I know)

“I-Ihi’m sohorry?” Mikey giggled out meekly, immediately going to grab Raph’s wrists again for, like, the hundredth time in the past hour.

Sometimes it’s best to keep your comments to yourself…even if you are spitting straight up facts…

“Oho you will be sorry.” The elder effortlessly grabbed his baby brother’s wrists, slowly bringing his head down towards the other’s stomach. Mikey kicked his knees into Raph’s shell, hoping to at least faze him, but all his attempts to stop his brother were in vain as the other took in a deep breath and lowered his head at an agonizingly slow pace to his plastron...

“W-WAHAIT! RAHAH— *squeal* PLEHEASE!!!” However, even if you’re a strong, cool and fast mutant like Mikey himself here, you would never be able to go up against the power of an older sibling in a tickle fight (a very one-sided tickle fight but a tickle fight nonetheless…)

Raph had to stop to chuckle at the wriggly mess that was his baby brother— the dude was wriggling and giggling like he planted some drug in him! And he hasn’t even done anything to him!

Yet, anyway…

“SHUHUT UP! STAHAP LAHAUGHING AHAT MEEHEE!” The youngest screeched as he felt his mind going on an anticipatory rollercoaster, thrashing in his big brother’s hold which he knew he was never getting out of. Well…acceptance is the first step to anything right?

“PLEHEASE! IHI’M— *squeak* SOHORRY!” Mikey cried, now frantically trying to get out of the hold. Screw acceptance. Mikey didn’t want to see heaven’s gates early. And besides, he has a slice of pizza in the fridge that he’s been dying to eat. So dying right here, right now, isn’t an option.

Raph hummed in amusement, “Oho yeheah? Where were all these apologizes when you made me lose in Twister?” Mikey giggled, “Ihit’s nahat MYHY fault YOHOU suhuck at gahames! Ehespecially board games. Ahahand video gahames…dohoo I have to go ohon?”

Raph was shocked as he was impressed. The pure nerve of this teen. Mikey definitely got that attitude from him…that’s for sure. “Okahay that’s it. No more mister nice turtle…”

“Sihince whEHEN were yOHOU NIHICE?”

Instead of making another sassy remark back, Raph tightened the grip of his hands on Mikey’s wrists slightly, lowering his head to his little brother’s stomach and taking a huge breath…

“RAHAPH— nohoHO— WAHAIT! RAHaph dUHUDE PLEHEASE!” Mikey rambled through his laughter, shaking his head back and forth with his eyes shut. Oh…this was gonna tickle so freaking bad. Maybe instead of provoking Raph he should of just tickled himself— because Michelangelo would not come out of the lounge area ALIVE after this. 

With one last evil chuckle, the elder lowered his head to the center of Mikey’s plastron and…well, let’s just say all of New York City presumably heard the high-pitched shriek that ascended out of the youngest’s mouth.

Raph was mean. He was the definition of mean. He might as well be cast as the next Regina George if Mean Girls gets another reboot because this. was. mean.

Because not only was this smug dunderhead blowing raspberries on his stomach without barely taking any breath’s (kinda impressive honestly), but he also was using one hand to squeeze directly on Mikey’s knee.

Evil. Pure evil.

And you would think that it was pretty nice of Raph to let one of his hands go so he could at least attempt to escape, right? Well the youngest’s free hand was too busy happy stimming in order to do said task…so he’s kinda-sorta-maybe-possibly stuck

“I don’t remember you being this sensitive to raspberries when we were little…” The elder teen commented in between his breaths. Because…honestly. Did Donnie make Mikey one of his nerd concoctions to make the youngest embarrassingly ticklish or has he always been like this? Because there’s no way he should be giggling and wriggling this much.

“IHIT’S NAHAT MY FAHAULT!” And it wasn’t! It’s not Mikey’s fault he’s a literal walking talking tickle spot! Besides, you haven’t met walking talking tickle spot until you’ve met Leo.

“It tickles that bad, huh?” Raph laughed at the inhuman screeches coming from the teen below him. “SHUHUT— *squeak* SHUHUT UHUHAHAHA—!” The youngest cackled loudly, still kicking Raph at the back of his shell with his knees.

Now, was kicking Raph in the shell going to do him any favors in the long run? Most likely not. He’s still getting tickled to pieces and no matter how much he bucked, wriggled, writhed, or squirmed from side to side, Raph’s grip would remain the same until he felt like letting go. His hold was scaringingly better than his nunchucks— and that’s saying a LOT. 

The smaller turtle just helplessly kicked behind him, just laying there and laughing his heart out. Raph took a glance at his younger brother and his snarky, evil smirk turned into a fond smile, he shook his head, laughing to himself. 

“Y'know…Leo is just a couple steps away. I’m sure he’d loooove helping me turn you into a more giggly puddle than you already are…”

“NAHAH— *squeal* DAHA— DOHOHON’T—!”

“Or…what if I got Donnie? I bet he has some tools that would help me…”

“NOHOH—!”

“What about Dad? I’m positive he would just record the whole thing and coo you all day long about you’re adorable giggles—”

“RAHAPHIE!!!” Mikey screeched, kicking Raph in the shell extra hard this time which only made the elder huff out a laugh in amusement.

“OW! Okay okahay! No need to shout!” He chuckled, getting off of the other turtle and helping him up. Raph sat down on the couch, soon followed by Michelangelo who dramatically collapsed into his lap.

He giggled tiredly, sitting up and flopping on the other’s plastron. The elder laughed at the theatrical gesture, rubbing his shell comfortingly. “You okay, bud?” 

“Nohoho. I’m lihihiterally dying.” Mikey giggled tiredly. Raph hummed in acknowledgment, resting his chin on Mikey’s left shoulder, causing the youngest to let out a subtle squeak.

The two made eye contact as Raph’s signature smirk spread across his face again.

“Huh. Which reminds me…” The elder turtle mused, wrapping Mikey in a hug with his one arm while the other was free. He shook his head, anticipatory giggles pouring out of his mouth more than ever before. “Raphie— Rahaphie nohoho don’t you dahare!”

Now, you’re probably wondering why Mikey is freaking out so much right now…let me explain.

As you know, Mikey has freckles. A lot of freckles. It was something he’s always been insecure about ever since he was a turtle tot. He used to absolutely loathe his freckles with a burning passion…and he tried to keep that fact a secret.

But sadly, when you live with 3 other brothers and you’re the youngest, there’s no such thing as secrecy.

The brothers had this whole talk about how his freckles made him, well, him. How it signified his uniqueness, adorableness, and blah blah blah sappy stuff. And that talk actually made Mikey love his freckles a lot…which he really needed.

Point being, his older brother’s created this game where they would count and poke how many freckles he had— because he had a whole LOT and they wanted to point out each adorable individual one; his freckles mainly being on his shoulders, face and neck.

But the thing was, the pokes to said spots tickled. A lot. Mikey was able to hide his reactions at first, but then a squeak went to a squeal, and a squeal went to a giggle…if you catch my drift.

And ever since then, it’s been a friendly competition on who could poke and count the most freckles on his face without him squirming out of reach (the highest score was 23 by the one and only Donatello).

“Hm. I forgot how many freckles you have…did you get any more? Seems like you got more…” Raph hummed again.

“NohOH I diHID NAHAT—”

“I think I should check just to make sure…” And with that, the poking and counting began…or as Mikey likes to call it: his complete and utter demise.

Speaking of which, Mikey might be competing with Leo for the Most Ticklish Turtle award because these pokes to his shoulders and face tickled like absolute SHELL. And Raph was barely touching him! Like…barely.

“1…2…3…4–! Mike! Stop moving! You made me lose count!” The older tried to sternly say, but it was really hard due to how much his little brother was laughing his shell off at the slightest of touches to the face and shoulders.

“PLEHEHEASE! RAHA— *squeak*! IHI’M GOHONNA DIHIE!!!”

“You’ve said that, like, 3 times. And you’re still here, aren’t you?” Raph mused, continuing to poke and prod.

“And a seven, and an eight, and a nine— wait. What comes after nine…?” He fake pondered, poking on the exact same freckle on Mikey’s shoulder to keep him a squeaky giggly blob.

“Seriously…I can’t think of the number. What comes after nine?” The hot-head asked again, going after Mikey’s neck now— causing the younger to scrunch his shoulders almost immediately. Though, that maybe wasn’t the best idea because Raph’s fingers were now stuck.

“I honestly think you’re the one with an embarrassingly ticklish neck, little bro.” The elder turtle stated smugly, wriggling his fingers in the crook of Mikey’s neck as the younger laughed even louder (if that’s possible).

Mikey flapped both of his hands, happy tears threatening to fall from his eyes, “RAHAHAPH!!!” He shrieked, his legs kicking the couch as well as the floor.

“Okay! Alright! Okay! No need to shout out me! Heard you loud and clear, giggles.” He drawed his hand away from Mikey’s face and shoulders, resting them on the other’s shell, rubbing it soothingly. The smaller turtle rested the back of his head on Raph’s shoulder, catching his breath slowly but surely.

“Are you done torturing me now?” He giggled tiredly, becoming relaxed and comfy in Raph’s arms due to the shell rubs.

“For now, yeah.” The older winked which only caused the youngest to roll his eyes at. Raph could be such a dork sometimes, but he loves him nonetheless…sometimes anyway.

“Thanks. For, uh…y'know…doing that…” The orange banded turtle mumbled after he calmed down fully, getting his mask that flew up on the couch earlier. “Yeah. No problem.” Raph shrugged nonchalantly, sitting back on the couch before creasing his eyebrows together, looking at Mikey in confusion.

“Wait. Didn’t you tell Leo like a week ago that it was 100% okay to ask for tickles? Why aren’t you taking your own advice?” He asked.

“Wha— you heard that?”

“The sewer walls aren’t that thick, Mike.” The elder explained, rolling his eyes fondly at the new silence he was being wonderfully graced with.

“Freaking hypocrite…” The green-eyed teen sighed, shaking his head and wrapping Mikey in a hug, squeezing him gently. “Again, you didn’t need to come up with an excuse for me to tickle you. You can just ask me.” He smiled softly, making Mikey return the smile tenfold.

“Yeah…I know. But playing Twister made it more fun didn’t it?”

“Pff…yeah. Yeah, I guess it did.”

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Do you happen to have a fanfiction.net account? ...Under Autobot-Tiff? (Don't have to answer publicly I just noticed one of the first you've posted is identical to one of the ones from that account)

Oh boy….

*inhales* Full disclosure, people….but yes! I DO. I do have a FanFiction and YES! I AM thee one and only Autobot-Tiff! 🧍🏻‍♀️✨

Some of you may know me from my fluffy trash FanFiction account, but! If you have come across my written work before and just been a fan of it ever since, well I’m happy to admit that’s me! The author! (*^ω^*)

As for the fic that I posted, that was just me reposting a favorite fic of mine so that other lovely people could get the chance to read it and enjoy it here. ^^ But don’t worry, gang, it’s all me! 🫶🏻

I guess I was just a little shy to expose my FanFiction account and also assumed no one was still active and reading my stories on there since it’s been a dead ghost town for a while now 🧍🏻‍♀️

Might as well let the cat out of the bag now ehe.

My full page of fluffy trash fanfics from my FanFiction account below! 💖 Note: even though I update not as often on FF because I’m here on tumblr now, I’ll still post more tk stories and other written content on my FF. I’ll just be a little more slow at it (*´Д｀*) So stick around and read the rest of the fluffy trash master post of written fluff if you’d like! 🫶🏻💕🌸

Hello newly acquired mutual :D just came here to ask what other fandoms your in other than Hazbin Hotell(I like Hazbin hotel too lmao) Im just curious lmao :]

Hello there moot bean! :3

I think I answered this a while back but I’ll gladly answer again!

[Slightly updated version]

Fandoms I’m Into and Will Do Art + Fics For:

♡ Spider-Man (Peters 1,2, & 3)

♡ Transformers (Prime, G1, Cyberverse & Knightverse)

♡ Hazbin Hotel

♡ Helluva Boss

♡ SCP Foundation (only with 999)

♡ TMNT 2012

♡ Gravity Falls

♡ Invader Zim

♡ Star Wars: the Clone Wars series

♡ My OCs! (Will introduce them soon)

And that’s about it! As always, I do tk fluff with all these fandoms listed above. (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)✨