"Better Late Than Never" Part 13

"Better late than never" part 13

Ghost gets tickled

(This might be a little different as I had a break from writing, I am still doing my exams!)

It might have been a typical day for everyone else, but for Soap it was an unusual one. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence to get such valuable information on Ghost. That bastard was ticklish.

They were sparring like always, showing rookies some take-down techniques. Soap was demonstrating how to properly pin somebody to the ground and immobilize them. That somebody being Ghost. Newbies were always surprised at how much Lieutenant Ghost was letting the sergeant do during sparring.

Soap had Ghost pinned to the mat on his stomach, his knee pressing on his bicep while sitting on his back and holding his other hand down. He was explaining to the soldiers around them what exactly he was doing and how to do it safely with their sparring partner when he noticed Ghost’s hoodie running up, revealing his skin.

That was definitely not something Ghost would be comfortable with if he was aware of it, so Soap wanting to correct the material grabbed it and accidentally brushed his skin with his warm fingers.

Ghost gasped and flinched away from the touch, definitely stifling a giggle. Soap froze as well as the rookies who now waited for the lieutenant to choke their favourite sergeant to death. They weren’t far off, as when the Brit realized what happened he send Soap flying of off him. He hit the mat with a grunt.

“Dismissed!” Yelled Ghost, glaring daggers at everyone in the gym. They all scattered away, not wanting to be anywhere near the man while he was getting off the mat.

“Ow..” Soap hissed, still lying on the floor. “What did ah do to ye?” He slowly sat up just to get hit in the face with a rug.

“Next time keep your bloody hands to yourself, sergeant.” 

Soap snickered at that. “Oh, I think ye enjoyed it, didn’t ya? What about that little chuckle?” He smiled devilishly, already trying to get closer to Ghost.

“Not a word, Soap.” 

But now that Soap had that information, he is not letting it down.

“Come on, Lt… ye are a tad ticklish, admit it.” The Scot grinned cockily and when close enough tried to jab at Ghost’s sides to tease him a bit. The masked man was faster though- he grabbed that hand before it even touched him and twisted it slightly.

“Ow, ow, ok, ok, I will stop!” 

“You try that one more time and I will put a knife up your arse and twist it around your intestines.” Ghost let go of Soap.

***

Soap didn’t listen. A vision of a knife up his ass wasn’t so bad if he got to make Ghost jump every time he walked near him, trying to tickle the older man.

It gets to the point where Ghost just simply refuses to spar with Soap because he played dirty. Trying to distract the lieutenant with the gentle brushes of his fingers. The gentle touches that made Simon’s hair stand up, goosebumps running up his arms with Johnny’s every attempt at tickling. Causing this giddy feeling in Ghost’s chest, butterflies gently tickling his tummy with their wings. The deep blush hidden under the hard mask, the flush running from his face down to his shoulders and chest.

Yeah…

Ghost liked it. He really liked it.

But Soap did this only in public. In the mess hall, in the gym, when they were on their way on a mission- always when there were other people around. Not even once did he attempt to do the same things when they were alone doing paperwork or just enjoying each other's company. Maybe… maybe then Ghost wouldn’t stop him, maybe then he would let it happen. 

He trusted Johnny with so much already that relaxing into it wouldn’t be even that hard. But whatever they had that Ghost was too scared to put a name to -  it was between them. Them and no one else.

So what was Ghost supposed to do? He wanted Soap to tickle him in private and maybe simply asking was the best option he had - no matter how embarrassing it would be, It was Johnny.

***

They were smoking cigarettes in Ghost’s room, both leaning on the windowsill trying to get as much smoke outside through the open window. 

Ghost had his balaclava off most of the time around Soap now, inhaling slowly the pleasantly bitter smoke and preparing mentally to ask the shorter man the awkward question.

“I thought ye hate smokin’ in yer room, Lt.” Soap blew some smoke out through his nose, turning his face to the open window.

“I am allowing it today.” Ghost took one last drag of his cig and squashed it on the wall leaving an ashy spot before tossing it into the trash.

The sergeant raised his brow. “Any special occasion for such generosity, Simon?” He finished his smoke as well and threw it out of the window to Ghost’s irritation.

Ghost sat on his bed and looked up at Soap just to avert his gaze when meet with the sky blue of Soap’s eyes. He found a loose thread of his blanket really fucking entertaining suddenly, playing with it between his fingers.

“Everythin’ alright?” Soap turned his head to the side, concern evident in his voice. He sat next to Ghost, putting his hand on the other’s man knee and squeezing lightly.

A shiver run through Simon.

“M’fine. I have a question though and Soap if you laugh I will kill you.” 

“Nah, ye won’t but sure, whatever it is.”

Ghost took a deep breath. “Why do you never tickle me when we are alone?”

Soap was a little taken aback by that. “What do ye mean? I value my throat, there is a smaller chance of you choking me to death in public than without the witnesses.” He chuckled. “What? Do ye want me tae?” Soap teased.

Ghost stayed quiet.

“Simon?” John squinted, trying to look Ghost in the eyes. “Do you? Want me to…?”

Ghost shrugged at first, then he opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but ended up closing it again. Finally, he nodded.

Soap lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, sure! Yeah, ah  can do that!” The sergeant was beaming with excitement. 

A smile appeared on Ghost’s face, a small shy smile. He swayed a little back and forth trying to deal somehow with the sudden excitement. “Ok-”

Soap’s hands were suddenly at his sides. Ghost gasped and instinct told him to swat his hands away, but he was pushed to lay on the bed before he could do that. 

Ghost wasn’t tickled in what felt like and could be forever so he was a giggling mess right of the start and Johnny laughed with him. To see Ghost like that was a gem. 

Soap wanted to discover where else his lieutenant was ticklish. He caressed the inside of Simon's knee and he bend over laughing, almost kicking Johnny in his face. Soap explored some more and then his hand travelled to Ghost’s neck.

But Ghost grabbed his hand, gently this time.

“Not there, Johnny.”

Soap nodded in understanding. “Ok, feel free to stop me whenever.” He wanted to resume, but Ghost was still holding onto his hands. “Si?”

Ghost blushed deeply and guided Soap’s hands under his shirt, shivering when skin touched skin. 

“Oh”

After that Simon as well as Johnny laughed and smiled for hours, savouring the intimacy and comfort they gave to each other. They were both in good hands.

+++

After Ghost had enough, they lay together on the bed, still giggling. Simon finally looked at Soap and realised that he was looking at him already.

"Now that ah know how nice does your laugh sound I will make sure to make ye laugh more."

“I already laughed more than for the whole…  year, Johnny. Thank you.”

They were in silence for a bit.

“Ghost?”

“Mhm?”

“Would ye let anyone else do this? All the things we have done together?”

“You know the answer,  Johnny”

....

….

“Ah’m glad I get to be that person, I hope ye know that.”

And Ghost knew, so he nudged Johhny’s pinky finger with his, hooking them together.

I hope you all enjoyed it! I know I took my time with it but I am really busy with life <3 Let's pray I still can write. Also, was that admission of feelings? Did they stop being idiots? I dunno, you tell me :D Comments really motivate me, so leave one if you feel like it <3

How about the animation?!///////

Jeez I love it//////

Moon: Your laugh and squeals are music to my ears))~ hehehe

The pencils breaking into smaller pencils

And why they treating word pencil like a slur. Reblog to scare ai losers away 🤭

Call Me Robin Hood

Word count: 7800

Warnings: mentions of minor injuries

This was probably one of my favorite fics to write! (And yes, it's a Bucky fic!! 😲 you all are trying to convert me here!) It was a lot of fun writing from this unique perspective of a 'criminal' being pursued by the Avengers. Thank you to anon who submitted this prompt that inspired the fic!

The sound of your feet pounding against the pavement echoed in your ears as you sprinted down the empty alleyway. It was hard to say how close they were to catching up to you, but you weren’t about to turn around to find out. You had to put some miles in between you and your pursuant.

Bursting out of the alleyway onto the sidewalk, your eyes landed on a blue sedan parked on the side of the street. You dashed toward the car, vaulting yourself over the hood with one hand to land on the opposite side by the driver’s side door. You made quick work of the door lock, sliding inside and plugging your electronic universal starter device into the ignition. The engine roared to life, and you shoved the shifter into drive, peeling out into the street with a screeching of tires.

“Well, that wasn’t very subtle…” you muttered to yourself, cringing at your rookie mistake. No matter, you thought – they were bound to track you down anyway.

Sure enough – up a few hundred feet ahead, a familiar spangle-clad hero stepped out from another alley, planting himself in your path with his red, white, and blue vibranium shield held protectively out in front of him. You were certain the super soldier could handle the full force of a car at high speed, but it wasn’t your goal to hurt anyone. A swift glance to your left told you there was a narrow one-way road leading out onto the street you were traveling on. Spinning the wheel hard, the car whirled around to the left just before you struck the Captain’s shield with the front bumper, tires squealing as you gunned it toward the one-way road. You had to drive up onto the sidewalk to avoid an oncoming car, smashing through a newspaper stand as you went, before swerving back onto the road and making a hard right onto the next street.

Glancing in your rearview, you noticed a motorcycle coming in hot on your tail, the headlight blaring in your mirror. On closer look, you recognized the driver as the red-haired assassin who had caught up to you in the first place, causing this whole catastrophe. She hunched down lower over the bike handles as she drew closer, gaining on you rapidly. Knowing you had to ditch the vehicle now that they knew what it looked like, you veered off the road onto the empty sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, leaping out the driver’s side door before the vehicle had come to a complete stop. You tucked and rolled as you struck the ground, bouncing right back up to your feet and hitting the ground running. You heard the motorcycle tires screech to a halt not far behind you.

Acting quickly, you threw your arm up over your face and hurled your momentum into the window of the dark office building you’d landed in front of. The glass shattered as your elbow struck the pane, shards cutting into your arm and spraying across the floor. Your boots crunched against the fragments dusting the floor as you continued running, ignoring the sharp sting in your forearm that could only mean you had a piece of glass embedded in your skin. You stumbled your way through the dark lobby, searching for a back exit you could slip through before the Widow hunted you down. Finding nothing, you opted to ascend the staircase in the back corner of the lobby, knowing you could leap across to the next building if you made it up a few flights.

When you reached the fourth floor, you burst out of the stairwell into a long, shadowed hallway. You raced across the tile floor, aiming for one of the corner offices so you could leap from the window into the next building. As you neared the end of the hallway, a figure leapt out directly in your path, the little light that was shining in through the windows from the city lights reflecting off his left arm.

You both froze for a moment, your eyes locked on his blue ones. You knew exactly who this was. You’d heard the stories of the Winter Soldier all those years ago – how he’d been manipulated and mind controlled by Hydra, how the good Captain snapped him out of it, how he’d later joined the Avengers to pay recompense for his wrongdoings. He’d been the enemy once before. He knew what it was like.

You weren’t exactly certain what it was that made him pause as you did. His eyes narrowed, as if trying to assess the level of threat you presented to him. Admittedly, you found the man attractive, with his stern brow and sharp jawline, coupled with his powerful stature. It was possible that similar thoughts were running through his mind, based on the way his brow softened after a moment.

Not wanting to wait around and find out, you suddenly lunged forward, diving onto the ground and somersaulting beneath his now outstretched metal arm before springing back to your feet and swinging yourself into the corner office. You slammed the door behind you for good measure, locking it to buy yourself at least another ten seconds while you assessed your path of escape. You heard another set of footsteps in the hallway, the clicking of the boots against the tile telling you the Widow had caught up as well.

Excellent. You at least knew where two of them were.

You threw the window open and climbed up onto the windowsill as the door handle began to jiggle. Seeing an open window just a floor below on the opposite side, you knew you could make the jump. A thought occurred to you, then, that this is exactly what they expected you would be doing in here. Making a split-second decision, you hopped down from the windowsill and rolled beneath the large desk in the middle of the floor, making certain to keep every move silent so as not to let them know you’d changed course.

The door burst open, two sets of footsteps pounding into the room. Loud whispers discussing the open window were followed by swift shuffling toward the windowsill. You heard a scraping of boots against the metal as, one by one, the two heroes leapt effortlessly across and into the open window they’d assumed you dove into. Then, the room fell silent, save for the city bustle down below echoing through the open window.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you sat huddled underneath the desk, gasping for air as you took a look at your injured forearm. It was hard to tell how deep the wound was, but it seemed to be a fairly small shard of glass, so it couldn’t be too deep. You pinched it between two fingers and ripped it out of your arm, hissing in pain. You knew removing an object from a puncture wound wasn’t the brightest idea, lest you open up the wound and bleed to death, but you were pleased to find the shard was about as long as it was wide, leaving only a small, surface-level sliver in your skin.

You turned your attention to your wrist, pressing a few buttons on your watch to bring up the holographic map of the city. Zooming in with two fingers, you noted that you were only a block away from where you’d left your bike. Knowing you had only a brief window of opportunity to escape, you braced yourself and hurried back out the way you’d come. You stumbled down the stairs, leaping back through the hole in the window you’d created in your rather violent entry into the building.

No one pursued you as you bolted down the sidewalk, trying to keep to the shadows as you approached your parking spot. The Captain must have headed in the same direction as the Widow and the Winter Soldier… you thought to yourself, swinging your leg over the seat of your bike and speeding off down the street. Once you’d reached the highway, you knew things were smooth sailing from there back to your hotel room.

You’d been on the Avengers’ list for a few months now – although, exactly what list, you weren’t certain. All you knew was ever since they’d chased you after the data heist in Chicago, the band of heroes seemed to show up whenever you attempted to complete another robbery. Evading the local police had always been a walk in the park; evading Earth’s mightiest heroes? Now that presented a challenge.

Ever since your teenage years, you excelled in computer coding and programming. Over time, you began to teach yourself the science of computer hacking. It wasn’t long before you became skilled enough to hack into company data systems, investigating their financial files. It irked you to see the incredibly large sums of money some of these high-ranking executives made, many of whom barely logged into the system more than two or three times a month. How could these low-life billionaires have so much money for doing so little, while others were suffering and penniless?

You didn’t like to think of yourself as a criminal. The word ‘criminal’ implied malicious intent, that you were committing felonies in the interest of harming others or benefiting yourself. But you’d never harmed anyone in any of your escapades, at least not physically. And, really, the financial loss your targets suffered was barely a drop in a bucket to these highly paid billionaires.

The people who did benefit from your thievery – the low-income communities, the families who didn’t even know where their next meal would come from – they made it all worth it. So what if you were rising up the list of wanted felons? There were people who were relying on you, despite the fact that none of them ever knew it was you behind their unexpected windfall. You were just a modern day Robin Hood trying to bring justice to the nation.

In any case, you’d become a master of evading capture. Years on the run had taught you to be swift, clever, and elusive. Now that the Avengers were in pursuit of you, you had no idea what the consequence might be if they succeeded in pinning you down. Would they throw you in jail? Interrogate you for information? You weren’t planning to find out.

You pulled into the parking lot of the hotel you’d chosen to stay at for the couple nights you would be in Boston. It wasn’t wise to stay in one place for too long, running the risk of someone finding a way to track you down. Although you always stayed under a different assumed name in each hotel, you knew better than anyone that there were ways of tracking people down based on patterns of activity.

With a quick, amicable nod to the clerk seated at the front desk, you made your way up to your room on the eighth floor. You all but collapsed onto the bed once you’d shut and locked the door behind you, allowing your body to finally relax into the mattress. Evading the Avengers was exhausting work. You knew you needed to keep a low profile for a little while; travel somewhere across the country to throw them off your trail before starting your next big data heist. You shut your eyes, allowing yourself to just enjoy the sensation of being still as you drifted off into a light slumber.

* * *

Bucky sat silently on board the quinjet as Steve piloted the three downtrodden heroes back to Avengers tower. Steve and Nat chattered frustratedly about your success in evading them once again, trying to come up with alternate strategies to hunt you down to pass the time on the long flight. But Bucky merely stared absently out the window, watching the dark gray clouds scrolling by beneath the jet as he became lost in his own thoughts.

He wasn’t shocked by the outcome of this mission – you had escaped on many occasions in the past. But this was the first time he’d encountered you face-to-face. He could have easily lunged for you, grabbed you with his vibranium arm and dragged you back to the quinjet to take you in. Why he didn’t, he wasn’t entirely certain. Maybe it was because he’d been expecting someone older. You couldn’t have been very far off from Nat’s age, very similar to his physical age. Maybe it was something about the way you looked at him – the way you were clearly unafraid, that you didn’t see him as a terrifying monster as so many others did. If anything, you appeared curious, intrigued. It had thrown him off guard, you looking at him that way.

Various teams had been sent in to try to capture you in the act as you hacked into mega companies’ financial systems. You weren’t particularly brawny, but you’d outwitted every hero they’d sent on your trail. It was a shock to everyone that you always worked alone – the way you’d been able to evade capture, you’d think there was someone helping you flee the scene.

The Avengers knew exactly what you’d been up to. It wasn’t hard to decipher, based on the news stories of sudden financial gains falling into the hands of the poorest of communities shortly after one of your data heists. No matter how benevolent your intentions were, the heroes needed to take you in. They simply couldn’t allow you to continue city hopping and draining the bank accounts of large corporations at your leisure. Based on your skill set, you would likely make an excellent addition to the team, should you be willing to give up your aberrant ways.

“Maybe we need to send in a larger team. Surround her, and take her down before she even escapes the building,” Steve pondered aloud, looking at Nat.

“No, that’s not gonna work.” Bucky stood from his seat, walking closer to the cockpit to finally join the conversation. “She’s clearly figured out how to slip through our fingers. One, three, five… it doesn’t matter how many of us there are, she always finds a way to escape.”

“Well, then, what do you suggest?” Nat asked flatly.

“We need to come at this from another angle. We always go charging in after her – maybe we’d be better off sneaking up on her instead. Fight fire with fire.”

“Hmm.” Steve thought for a moment, turning Bucky’s idea over in his mind. “That’s not bad. She expects us to come in guns blazing – she’d never expect us to track her down undercover.”

“Exactly.” Bucky turned and began pacing as he contemplated. “Why not just send one person in next time we find out where she’s headed?”

“And who do you suggest?”

“I’m happy to do it.” Bucky surprised himself with the sudden offering, but he was invested in it now. “I’m a little less conspicuous than all of you, you know? They don’t exactly highlight me in the news stories…”

“Well in this case, that’s a good thing, Buck.”

“It’s always a good thing. Trust me, I miss the days that no one knew who I was sometimes,” Nat added.

“Alright then,” Bucky continued, moving on from their side conversation. “I’ll work with Tony to track her next target, and I’ll go in alone. Catch her when she’s least expecting it.”

Bucky wondered if he’d be able to pull this off, tracking you down and catching you off guard. Up to this point, you’d proven to be far wittier than any of the Avengers combined. But if it meant preventing any harm from coming to you, he was willing to at least try.

* * *

Crouching in the shadows behind a magazine stand, you watched the door to the office building across the street, patiently waiting for the security guard to exit the building. You’d chosen a large technology company in Minneapolis for your next target. After reading a story in the news about how little the CEO was offering their lower-level employees in salary, and with no benefits, you knew this would be a company deserving of your services. The fact that it was far from Boston was an added bonus – hopping around from place to place made it less likely that someone would be able to track your movements.

The guard exited the building at last, turning his key in the lock before heading down the street to his car. You waited until the taillights had disappeared from sight once he’d driven away before stepping out of your hiding place, casually crossing the street and approaching the building.

You were certain there was an alarm set on the door to alert the police of a break-in, but this didn’t deter you in the slightest. Lifting your wrist, you pressed a few buttons on your watch and hacked into the alarm system remotely, disabling it with ease. Besides your hacking skills, you’d learned a thing or two about lock picking over the years. It wasn’t long before the lock clicked open, and you waltzed right through the front door as though you owned the place.

The company lobby was vast – spanning two stories high, you were able to see up onto part of the second floor over a balcony with a glass guardrail. The main lights had been shut off for the night, but the glow of the emergency lights was more than enough to see where you were going. You walked quickly as you ascended the stairs to the second floor, ducking into one of the large executive offices and taking a seat in the gaudy chair situated in front of the computer desk in the center of the room.

The offices in this building were sleek and modern, the entire wall made up of glass so you could see everything in the hallway outside. This was both a help and a hinderance to you – you could keep an eye out for any passerby, particularly any of the Avengers who might be after you, but that also meant anyone outside the office could see you as well.

It was child’s play logging into their system – pathetic, you thought, considering they were a technology company. You hacked into their financial accounts and began transferring funds into one of the many accounts you’d set up for yourself under various assumed names, eyes flitting up to the windows from time to time to assess whether you were being followed. But no one came. The hallway remained silent and empty, just as it had been when you’d entered the building.

Trying not to think too deeply into it, you erased all traces of your electronic fingerprint on the system and quickly stood from the desk chair. It wasn’t until that moment that you suddenly felt as though you were being watched. Scanning the hallway warily, you were surprised to find it was still unoccupied. Maybe your gut feeling was wrong this time. Then again, it had never steered you wrong before. Cautiously, you exited the office, the hair on the back of your neck bristling the moment you were standing in the hall.

On a whim, you sprinted toward the glass railing of the overhang, vaulting clear over the top and landing elegantly on the first floor below. You spun around, glancing up to the balcony where you’d just been standing. There was a man standing at the edge, leaning casually on the railing as he gazed down at you. You recognized the metal armed soldier immediately, despite the fact that he wore a black leather jacket and black gloves to cover his vibranium appendage. You’d recognize those eyes anywhere. They’d made a permanent impression on your mind.

“You alright? That was quite a jump,” he called down to you, almost tauntingly.

“Fine. Why are you here?” you demanded.

“Straight down to business, huh?” He chuckled, a grin spreading across his face. “I think you’re well aware why I’m here.”

“I’m aware you work for the Avengers. What I don’t know is what you want with me.” He had made no moves to come after you yet, and so you relaxed your stance a bit. Still, you remained ready to flee on a moment’s notice.

“I just want to talk,” he insisted.

“Bull shit. Why are you really here?” you asked suspiciously.

“Well, I’m also supposed to take you into custody. But you’re not gonna let that happen, are you?” You shook your head, smirking. “Didn’t think so. So, I figure I’ll at least accomplish half of my mission.”

“What’s a guy like you want talking to a girl like me?” You still didn’t entirely trust the soldier, but if he wasn’t going to make a move toward you, you figured you could at least have a little fun with him.

“Well, you’re obviously quite an interesting person,” he explained, mirroring your smirk. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself. Figuratively speaking, of course. I don’t actually know your name. What is it, by the way?”

Your smirk broadened, and you ignored his question. “How have I made a name for myself?”

“Fishing for compliments?”

“Just curious.”

“Mmhmm.” He eyed you with a calculated gaze, as though evaluating whether you were messing with him or not. Regardless of what conclusion he’d come to, he decided to answer. “You’ve stolen billions of dollars from large corporations across the country without once getting caught. Impressive, really.”

“I don’t like to think of it as ‘stolen.’ I prefer… redistributed.”

“Yes, we’re well aware of what you’ve been doing with the stolen – sorry, redistributed funds.” He winked at you, and you felt the faintest of heat creeping up your neck. “Tell me – why put yourself on America’s Most Wanted to get money for the low-income communities? What’s in it for you?”

“Peace of mind? A sense of decency?” You scoffed. “It’s not like they’ve been feeling the financial loss. I never take more than 10% of their assets.”

“But you do still take some. Which, in case you didn’t notice, is still illegal.”

“You don’t think I’m noble for throwing myself in harms way to help provide for the unfortunate?” You winked back at him, grinning flirtatiously.

“Heh. What I think of you is irrelevant. It’s what the law thinks that matters here.”

“I’m sure.” You took a step backward toward the door. “Well, it’s been nice chatting with you, Mr. Barnes, but I’m afraid I must be going.”

“Until next time, then, Robin Hood?”

You chuckled. “Sure. Next time.” You kept your eyes locked on his, assessing for any signs that he might come after you. He merely stood, waving cheekily at you from the balcony as he watched you leave. The moment you stepped through the front door, you spun on your heel and took off running down the sidewalk. You half expected to hear bounding footsteps behind you, but the only sound was that of your own boots beating against the pavement as you sprinted back to your bike.

* * *

“You let her walk out??”

“Steve – hear me out on this –”

“Buck, you told us you were going to take her in! I’d understand if she managed to escape, as she always does, but you’re telling me you just let her leave?”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, struggling to convey his reasoning to his best friend. If Steve would just let him get a word in, he’d tell him exactly why he’d decided to do what he did. But every time he started explaining himself…

“I can’t understand you, Bucky. Did you want her to get away? Did she somehow brainwash you into thinking she’s doing the right thing?”

“Steve! Just LISTEN to me for a second!” The volume of Bucky’s voice finally silenced his friend’s. He stopped pacing, looking to Bucky expectantly for an explanation. “I knew the moment she figured out I was watching her without even seeing me that I wasn’t gonna catch her. So I decided to go with a different approach, and talk to her. Earn her trust.”

“Her trust?!” Steve shook his head. “Why on Earth do you want her to trust you?”

“Because I think she’d be a great addition to the team!”

Steve stared blankly at his friend for a moment. “I don’t know where you could possibly have gotten that idea…”

“Steve, think about it! She’s clever, she’s skilled, she’s stealthy… Working against us, she’s a force to be reckoned with. But working with us? We’d be even stronger.”

“What makes you think she’d agree to join the team?” Steve asked, still bitter-sounding, but not quite as much so as before.

“That’s why I want to get her to trust me! She’s not gonna agree to anything if we take her down swinging. We need to convince her it’s the right move.”

Steve sighed, his shoulders slackening a bit in defeat. “Alright, Buck. I’m going to trust you on this.”

“Thanks. I won’t let you down.” Steve patted Bucky on the shoulder affectionately, heading down to the lab to talk to Tony about these new developments. Bucky decided to make himself scarce for the remainder of the evening – he had no interest in hearing it from the billionaire scientist. And, in any case, he was going to do what he thought was best, regardless of what Tony or Steve thought.

* * *

The Avengers hadn’t come after you full force in over a month.

It wasn’t like you weren’t up to your usual hijinks. You’d hit six additional companies in the last four weeks, providing for over a dozen underserved communities. You never let your guard down, waiting for the moment they decided to swoop in and attack. But the moment never came.

You did notice, however, that the dark-haired super soldier started showing up a lot more during your heists. Sometimes he kept to the shadows, merely watching you in silence as you worked. You always knew he was there – you had a way of sensing his presence, somehow, even if he never showed himself. On other occasions, he made himself known, but never once making an effort to chase you. He always stood off to the side, far enough away from you to prevent you from fleeing from proximity alone, and made simple conversation with you. You still refused to tell him your name, nor give him any useful information about yourself, but you did find yourself engaging in flirtatious banter with him more and more often.

“What do your friends think of your behavior, Bucky? Following around a felon and chatting her up without making any effort to try to take me into custody?”

He was seated across the room from you today, five or six desks separating the two of you as you worked on a computer in the back corner of the room. It was closer than you usually allowed him to be, but the fact that he’d need to jump over furniture to get to where you sat was enough to make you feel less on edge.

“My friends don’t know much about our conversations,” he replied plainly.

“Ah. So I’m your dirty little secret, then?” you asked with a sly grin.

“Not quite what I’d call it, but sure.”

He seemed quieter than usual today. Sure, he wasn’t exactly a chatterbox when the two of you conversed, but there was something different about his demeanor today.

“So, are you ever going to tell me why it is that you’ve been following me around?”

“Not today.”

“Today’s as good a day as any, don’t you think?”

“Nah. Not today.”

You glanced up at the soldier across the room, analyzing his face. “What’s wrong today, Bucky? You usually at least humor me with some witty response.”

He shrugged apathetically, remaining silent. You looked at him hard for another moment, then turned your attention back to the computer screen. You were nearly finished with your work anyway – you just had to clear the data of your login and you’d be done. No need to try to pull for information that he clearly wasn’t going to provide.

You finished erasing the data, rising to your feet and taking one last glance up at the metal-armed soldier.

“Take care of yourself, alright?” you urged, your tone softer than usual.

“You too.”

You slipped out the door, and as usual he didn’t follow. It was a short walk back to your bike today. You spent the entirety of the drive thinking, your mind reeling over a man you weren’t even friends with.

* * *

Bucky knew you’d picked up on his sullen attitude. He could tell by the way you fell silent halfway through your conversation. But he couldn’t tell you the reason behind his sour mood. Not yet, anyway.

That morning, Steve had given him an ultimatum. Convince you to join the team, or the next time he followed you, he needed to capture you and take you in. He knew he still had a fair amount of convincing left to do to get you to truly trust him. You barely allowed him to sit in the same room with you, with many feet of distance in between. How could he possibly ask you to join the team now?

If he asked at the wrong time, he knew you’d bristle at his request and pull away from him. But, at the same time, he knew Steve wasn’t going to change his mind. He was done waiting, done watching you succeed in thievery time after time while Bucky merely sat complicitly. Bucky was stuck between a rock and a hard place, between you and his best friend. He’d decided to simply enjoy your final conversation before he had to break your trust, knowing there was no way out.

The next time he caught up to you, you had traveled to San Francisco to plunder a pharmaceutical company, whose specialty was cosmetic injections. There was a ton of money to be made in the business, but the number of people they’d harmed with their products was staggering. Who better to cripple financially than a squandering pharmaceutical corporation such as this?

“Back again, I see?” you asked casually as Bucky entered the hallway you were standing in.

“Are you surprised?”

“Mm, not at all. I’d be insulted if you weren’t here.” You grinned, winking at him as you ducked into a room filled with dozens of cubicles and computers. Bucky followed, walking a bit more quickly than he normally would, knowing you didn’t like when he made sudden movements.

When he entered the room, he saw you step around the wall of one of the cubicles in the center of the room, disappearing from view. He kept his footsteps light, making his way over to the cubicle where you sat. He paused about halfway across the room, grappling with himself internally as he debated what he was about to do. With a slow breath, he resolved himself to the fact that there was no other way. If he didn’t take you in, the Avengers would come after you again. And next time, they weren’t likely to play nice.

Bucky slipped silently around the wall of the cubicle behind you, wasting no time in wrapping his vibranium arm around you and dragging you up out of the chair. You yelped in surprise, likely not expecting the normally docile soldier to pull something like this.

“W-what are you doing?!” you demanded.

“I’m… sorry about this,” Bucky apologized sincerely, his heart aching at your sudden change in tone. He began wrestling you toward the door, trying not to hurt you as you struggled against his hold.

What happened next, he certainly wasn’t expecting.

You planted your feet firmly on the ground, twisting your upper body hard to free yourself from his grip. Before Bucky could react, you’d slid your hand into your pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a gun. With fierce determination in your eyes, you lifted the gun and aimed it at the super soldier, hands steady as you clicked off the safety.

“Woah! Hang on, let’s be rational…” Bucky threw his hands up protectively in front of him, taking a step backward to put some distance between the two of you.

“Sorry, Bucky,” you drawled. “Time’s up.”

Before he could say another word, you pulled the trigger.

Bucky flinched instinctively, waiting for the bullet to enter his chest. But it never came. Instead, a small, dart-like device shot out of the barrel of the gun, shaped almost like a foam dart for a child’s toy. It struck his outstretched hand, sticking to the metal of his palm. Curiously, he bent his elbow to look at his hand and inspect the foreign device, glancing up at you in confusion. The smirk on your face was disconcerting.

Before he could ask questions, you held up a small button in your other hand and pressed it. An electric current shot through Bucky’s arm and into his body, making his muscles seize up before dropping to the floor. As his vision went black, he saw your boots come into view in front of his face, followed by your face as you crouched down beside him. The smirk hadn’t left your face.

* * *

It took a moment for Bucky to remember where he was. Before he even opened his eyes, he took note of hos position. He was seated in some kind of chair, his arms looped behind the back of it and bound together at the wrists. With a shift of his arms, he realized they were also stuck to the back of the chair. As he shifted, he tried to plant his feet on the floor, realizing quickly that they too were bound to the chair.

Gradually, Bucky opened his eyes, finding you seated across from him in another office chair a few feet away. You were leaned back lazily in the chair, your chin propped up on your elbow which you’d leaned on the arm of the chair. That same smirk you were wearing as he blacked out was still plastered across your face as you gazed at him curiously.

“Look who decided to wake up,” you observed teasingly.

“It’s not like I had a choice in the matter… I wasn’t exactly napping,” Bucky growled.

You laughed facetiously. “Oh, I know. I got you good, didn’t I?”

“How did you bind me to this chair?” Bucky demanded.

“I just used my resources. We’re in an office, so I improvised with some office supplies.” A mischievous glint flashed in your eyes. “It’s amazing what a little duct tape can accomplish.”

Bucky barked out a surprised laugh. “Do you seriously think that duct tape is going to hold down a super soldier?” He flinched as something small struck him in the forehead, bouncing off and rolling across the floor in front of him. Glancing down, he saw it was a small cardboard tube.

“An entire roll would.”

He glared.

“Wow! If looks could kill… wait, you don’t actually have laser beam eyes right?” you quipped.

“What do you want from me?” Bucky ordered.

“Straight down to business,” you observed, grinning. “It’s not what I want from you. It’s what you want from me. Why are you following me?”

“I told you, I’m supposed to take you into custody.”

“And up until today, you made no efforts to do so. Now, tell me the truth.”

Bucky smirked. “What are you gonna do to me, Robin Hood? Torture me until I tell you?”

“Keep making sarcastic comments like that, and I just might.”

“Really, now?” Bucky laughed, shaking his head. He knew you would never hurt him, especially after you’d had every opportunity to actually shoot him dead and had opted to stun him instead. And he knew you knew he didn’t want to hurt you, either. “Making empty threats won’t get me to tell you anything.”

“You think they’re empty threats?” you asked, rising to your feet.

As you approached, Bucky suddenly began to second-guess his trust in you, shifting his weight to scoot the chair backward a bit. With his feet bound to the spindles of the chair, he couldn’t plant his feet on the floor, so he had to throw quite a bit of his weight into it to get the chair to roll backward. Unfortunately, he’d overcompensated, feeling the chair start to tip backward onto the back wheels.

“Woah!” he shouted, trying to shift his weight forward to prevent the chair from falling over. At the same time, your hands darted out and grabbed hold of his legs just above his knees, pressing down so the chair would tip forward again. Your delicate fingers squeezed into the muscles above his knees, making him splutter and jolt involuntarily. He hoped desperately that his reaction was lost on you.

It wasn’t.

“Bucky Barnes. Are you ticklish?”

Damn.

“I’m a super soldier,” he retorted. It wasn’t technically a lie.

“Pshh, yeah, a ticklish super soldier!” you laughed, placing your hands on your hips as you hovered over him. “So… what was that about empty threats?”

“Wha- oh, oh no. No way. I don’t think so.” Bucky shook his head rapidly, giving you a hard look. His stomach leapt into his throat at the sinister smirk that spread across your lips, feeling his face grow warm.

“Oh, come on, Bucky… you’ve survived much worse. I’m sure you can handle a little tickling.” You stepped around behind the chair, wrapping your hands around to rest on his sides. He stiffened at the contact, sucking in a breath.

“You’re making a big mistake,” he warned, trying to make his voice sound ominous, although it was difficult when a grin was threatening to force its way onto his face in anticipation.

“I guess we’ll see how effective that roll of duct tape is on a super soldier, won’t we?”

With that, you began scratching deep into the soft skin of his sides, and he yelped before letting out breathy laughs through his nose. It had been decades since he’d actually been tickled by someone, and he’d long since forgotten how unbearably ticklish he was. God, if Steve knew what he’d gotten himself into… Bucky knew he’d never hear the end of it.

“Ready to talk?” you asked, your voice much closer to his ear now that you were leaned down to tickle at his sides.

“N-nope,” he shot back.

“How about we try somewhere else then?” Your fingers traveled around to his belly, clawing through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. It was taking every bit of his willpower not to burst into laughter, knowing that you’d see you were getting to him if he did. Undeterred by his lack of giggles, you gradually spidered your fingertips up to his lower ribs, pinching at the bones.

“Ah! Hehehey!” Bucky shouted, reluctant giggles bubbling out of his mouth.

“Ooh, what’s the matter, Barnes? Am I getting somewhere?”

“Shut UHUP, Robin Hood,” he growled.

“Ooh, still so feisty. Maybe this will take you down a peg.”

You removed your hands from his belly, pausing for a moment to build the suspense before rapidly latching on to his upper ribs, helplessly exposed by his hands being bound behind his back. Bucky couldn’t hold back any longer – he burst into bright, uncharacteristic laughter as you massaged your fingertips into the hypersensitive spot.

“AHAH… whehen I get OHOUT of this… you are SOHO screwed!” He tugged against the duct tape around his wrists, feeling it give ever so slightly, but not enough to pull his arms free.

“Ah-ah! You’re not getting out until you talk,” you teased, skittering your fingers up underneath his arms. His laughter increased in volume, thrashing uselessly now to evade your fingers. “This can all end if you tell me why you’re following me.”

“Ihi… HA IHI will NOHOT!!”

“Oh, you will. I’ll get you talking.” He jolted as you began kneading your way down his sides, digging into his ribs before darting back to his sides, then worming your fingers under his arms… You laughed as you watched him twisting and writhing helplessly to escape the unbearably ticklish sensation.

“ALRIGHT! ALRIHIHIGHT!” he bellowed, finally caving. Your fingers slowed, scratching lightly at his ribs as a reminder that you could easily start right back up again if he changed his mind. “I’m trying toho recruit you!”

“What?”

Your hands left his sides, walking around to stand in front of him with a confused look on your face. Bucky took a few deep breaths under the ruse of catching his breath, when really he wanted a moment to think about how he was going to explain this to you.

“I want you to join the team. To join the Avengers.”

You laughed incredulously. “You want me to join the Avengers? Me? A wanted felon?”

“You’re more than that. You’re witty, you’re smart, you’re skilled… Your head is in the right place, despite the crimes you’ve been committing… You could do so much good for the world if you joined the team. Without having to steal to accomplish it.”

You shook your head, taking a seat in the chair opposite him. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I just CAN’T!” You threw your hands to your head, groaning in frustration. Bucky observed you carefully, analyzing your face, trying to determine what was going through your head. He recognized the fear in your eyes, the uncertainty, the doubt. He’d seen the same thing when he looked in the mirror those years ago, when he first joined the Avengers.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

You laughed humorlessly. “How can you possibly –”

“TRUST me. I know.” Bucky sighed, his expression softening. “I was once a lethal, emotionless assassin. I… killed hundreds of people. I ruined the lives of so many families.” Your eyes lifted from the floor to meet his, a spark of sadness behind your gaze. “What you’ve done pales in comparison to what I’ve done. And yet they accepted me without hesitation.”

“You’re Captain America’s best friend,” you muttered.

“And you’re my friend. Aren’t you?”

You stared at him for a moment, wordless. “… Am I?”

“Well… yeah, I like to think so. After all these late-night chats, how could you not be?” Bucky grinned, winking at you, his heart swelling as a smile spread across your face.

“Even after I tortured you just now?” you asked teasingly.

“Oh, I haven’t forgiven you for that. But yes, still friends.” He gazed at you expectantly. “So? What do you say?”

“Well…” You thought hard for a moment, the smile still gracing your features. “I guess I can give it a shot. But only if you promise to protect me if they decide they don’t like me and want to throw me in jail.”

“I think I can handle that.” Bucky tugged experimentally at the duct tape on his wrists, finding there still wasn’t much give. “Uh, do you think you could let me out now?”

“Oh! Sorry, yeah…” you grinned sheepishly, grabbing a pair of scissors off the desk and crouching to cut the tape off his feet. You walked around behind him and cut through the tape on his wrists, carefully pulling it off his human arm to avoid ripping the hair off his wrist. Bucky pulled his arms back around in front of him, pulling the last of the tape off his vibranium arm and rising to his feet as you stepped back around to place the scissors down on the desk.

“So…” he hummed, throwing his vibranium arm around your waist before you could turn around and dragging you back against his chest. You yelped in surprise, pushing at his metal arm futilely. He leaned closer to your ear, his voice low and taunting. “… are you ticklish?”

“I- BUCKY!!” He didn’t wait for a response, digging his metal fingers gently into your side where his hand rested. Your boisterous laughter was music to his ears, only serving to encourage him as he brought his human hand around to scribble into your belly. Your knees buckled then, sinking to the floor to try to escape his tickling fingers.

“Oh, I don’t think so. You’re not getting off that easy,” he warned teasingly, following you down and keeping your back pinned against his chest. “What’s the matter? Does this tickle?”

“BU-HAHA-BUCKY MOHOHOVE!” you shrieked, pulling desperately at his human hand on your belly.

“Oh-ho, is this your weak spot, then? Did I find it already?” He shifted his other hand to claw into the side of your belly, fingers digging into what was almost your side as his thumb kneaded circles beside your navel. You screamed with laughter, going limp against his chest. Bucky chuckled warmly, moving to dig into your ribs, which seemed to be at least a bit less ticklish given you began thrashing again.

“Ihi WILL gehet you back!” you threatened, reaching around behind you to squeeze at his side.

“Ah-ah!” Bucky unwrapped his metal arm from around your ribs, grabbing hold of your wrist firmly and pinning it against your back. “Big mistake, Robin Hood.”

You screeched when his human hand dug right back into your belly, fingertips flitting around your navel before scratching along your waistline. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, laughter becoming more hiccupy and hoarse as you grew tired. Satisfied, he allowed his fingers to go still against your belly, releasing your wrist and holding you in his arms for a moment.

It felt good to have you close to him. After over a month of flirting harmlessly, he was beginning to realize that maybe there was a bit more truth to it than he’d thought. You certainly didn’t seem to mind either, given you made no motion to try to stand up. He’d have considered kissing you right then and there, but he held himself back, not wanting to push things too far now that you’d at least established a friendship. There’d be plenty more time for that once you’d settled into the team.

After you’d caught your breath, Bucky helped you to your feet, laughing as you shot him a half-hearted glare.

“Hey! Need I remind you, you started this!” he protested.

“This isn’t over, Barnes,” you warned, a grin tugging at your lips.

“Alright, alright. Just… do me a favor, and don’t tell Steve about this?” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “He’d find it far too amusing.”

“My lips are sealed. After all, you’re my first friend.”

Side by side, the pair of you walked out of the facility and out to the sidewalk. You paused when you'd reached your bike, turning to look at Bucky.

"So... where do we go from here?" you asked.

"Well... I suggest you pack up your things and head on over to New York in the next couple days," Bucky recommended. "We've got a mission coming up that I'd love to have your help with."

"Oh?" you asked skeptically.

"I think you're gonna like it. The guy we're after? He's a dirty billionaire."

You laughed, a bright smile crossing your face. "Bucky - if you'd led with that, this whole fiasco could have been avoided!"

He rolled his eyes, chuckling as he watched you mount your bike and drive off down the street. Some might say he was a fool for trusting you'd come back to them, but he knew you'd join them in New York as promised. He just had that sense about you, much like you could sense his presence. Perhaps this was the beginning of an unbreakable bond.

Part 2

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.

Empanadas

Miguel x Reader (GN, romantic)

A/N: I know the timing is suspicious but this was not intended as some self-insert punishment to myself for commissioning (some very awesome-) lee Miguel tickle art.

But! If y'all remember that poll, the x reader did come out victorious after all so between this one and the two more Nimona fics I have in progress (still considering whether I'll finish and post those), this Miguel fic was finished first :).

P.S. thank you to Miagirl for translating some Spanish 🥰

Summary: You ate all of Miguel's empanadas and he's not. happy. (Also on Ao3)

Word Count: 1771

His footsteps sounded heavy. His breathing was loud. Uh oh. He was already stressed. Rough day huh.

You curled up under the blankets and continued to listen. He was going to the fridge now, no doubt. Even if you wouldn't be able to hear his loud footsteps, you would just know. He was going to the fridge for his late night snack to heat up and munch on after a rough mission, and he was going to find your little note, and most importantly he was going to find out what wasn't there: the empanadas!

Aaah you couldn't help yourself! Like yesterday, once in a while Miguel would bring home a snack box of homemade empanadas. MJ Parker, his best friend's wife was a star at cooking and she made the best. Miguel brought them home across universes to share them with you. Share. Not to have you consume them all by yourself like the hungry beast you had become tonight. 

After your crime you realized what you had done, wrote him a little apology note which you put in the empty snack box in the fridge. You then went to bed and hoped to fall asleep so he'd confront you about it in the morning, all calm and reasonable about it.  

Instead you waited in anticipation for hours, unable to fall asleep until this moment finally came. Only mere minutes before Miguel's arrival you realized that leaving the empty box in the fridge and your note may have been worse than just leaving nothing at all, but it was too late to change it now:

Perdón por comerme tus snacks!

"Hmm..." You heard Miguel sigh loudly and mutter a soft curse in Spanish. The sound of a paper crumbling had also never been this loud before, but yup, there went your note. You could just imagine Miguel standing before you, your note in his fist.

Oooh boy. You were so dead!

His footsteps now came up the stairs where you waited for him in bed, under the blankets. You squeezed your eyes shut and tensed up when you heard him enter the room. He walked towards the bed, the sound of his steps dreadfully slow and steady. You felt him sit down beside you, his weight heavy and making you hold your breath, and....

"I know you're not asleep, tú, pequeño-" he said, and the next moment you felt him peel the blanket away from you and reach for your sides. No hesitation, nothing modest about it. Miguel O'Hara was very clear about what was going to happen to you: he was going to tickle the shit out of you, and you were going to let him.

"Huwahaha! Bahahaaby ahahaha wa-heheh-wait!" you cackled immediately, feeling his persistent tickles awake all of your senses before they could even find a minute of good night's rest.

"Wait? You're the one who couldn't wait," he reminded you calmly. He grabbed your shoulder and turned you around, forcing you to look up at him as he continued to claw at your sensitive ribs and sides.

"AHaha- I hehehe Mihihiguel!" You pawed at his hands, trying in vain to make him slow down even a little bit, but it was no use. Your hands merely rested against his strong arms and failed to make him even budge while his fingers continuously tickled your sides, making you bark and giggle.

"I'm sohohorry! I'm reheheally sorry!" you laughed hysterically. Even with the lights still turned off you could see his eyes flicker with vengeance and mischief.

"I was looking forward to those, you know." That was all he said, but you were yelling, squealing, and shrieking a lot more as he continued to mercilessly tickle your ribs now. 

"I knohohow! It wahahas an ahahaccident! Mihiguehehel heheheh plehehease wahaah! I dihihidn't mehehean to! Ahahaha nahaha- not thehehere!"

"An accident? Really? Taking out all empanadas, heating them up, and eating them? I see. Well, consider this an accident too then." He sounded so serious, so stern, yet his fingers were actually quite playful and doing everything they could to make you scream with laughter.

"HEHehehe! Nohoho!" was all you could respond with.

You squirmed and struggled under his weight and threw your head back. Miguel's tickle punishments were actually the best and the worst, both at the same time. Intense, fun, and also exhausting and terribly flustering. You'd say you hated them but it wasn't true. Yet you'd say you loved them and all of your existence would protest with all its might too.

There was just no word to describe what it was like to be tickled into hysterics by Miguel O'Hara while he looked at you with that sinister smirk and those piercing eyes, and how you felt about it.

"Plehehease mi ahahamooor! Nehehext tihihime you cahahan hahave them ahahall!" you cried, turning and twisting to escape his persistent fingers, but they were making you itch and tingle in each place they touched. 

"Next time? Do you know the face Peter will make if I ask him to bring them again, already? Didn't think so."

"Heehehe you're such ahaha waaahhhaa!" you shrieked when you had the audacity to (almost) call him names when you were already in this position. The price you paid was to say bye to the ability to uselessly flail your arms as Miguel captured them perfectly with his web and attached them to the bed's headboard, pinning them above your head. 

"I'm such a...?" Miguel asked but the meanie wouldn't even let you properly answer since he began to scratch at your now completely helpless and vulnerable underarms. You shrieked and arched your back as your loudest laugh to date filled the room.

"Naaaahahahah bahahaby! I'm sorrehehe eyahhaah!" The only moment when he left your tingling armpits to recover from those unbearable sensations, was when he moved his hands down to move them under your PJ shirt. He then tickled his way back up your bare belly, scratched along your sides and ribs and then buried his fingers under your arms again. 

Your voice was all over the place and you shook your head hysterically.

"Fohohorgive mehehe?" you snorted when he lazily dug his thumbs under your arms, wiggling them and making you spasm. Your arms tried to pull away from the spiderweb, but you already knew from experience that wasn't going to work.

"No baby. You took my snack, so I'm here to claim my new one," Miguel finally said. Your eyes widened. Oh. Oooh. So now it was no longer just a punishment, but also eh...? You tried to smile seductively despite your hysteria. You failed, but still you cackled:

"I cahahan behehe y-your snahahack! J-just- ahahha! Stahaahap!" You couldn't be much of a tasty snack to him if you would keep barking right into his face. Miguel did that himself though, he wouldn't stop poking your armpits, clawing up and down your sides and ribs, or scribbling that super sensitive spot on your tummy while you tried to be the snack that he wanted.

What you did notice was that during the tickling he came closer and closer. Him watching your tickle-hysteria-face with such intensity? Nah. But him coming this close, so close that you could almost capture his lips with yours? Big yes. When he finally was close enough and just lowered his hands to tickle your hips, you also jerked forward and kissed him. He wanted his snack? Now he had it.

Though, hopes of kissing him and just moving on to different sort of activities, those were all shattered when Miguel did accept your kiss and still tickled you at the same time.

Now finding it hard to breathe, you tried to struggle free again, but his tongue already explored your mouth with the hunger of a man who was robbed of his beloved empanadas. Well, you already brushed your teeth so there would be no trace of empanadas left for him. Still, he did seem to enjoy it because even when you were trying desperately to break free for a healthy breath of air, he wasn't letting you go.

"HMHHhhhph!" Breathing heavily through your nose and squirming because of the relentless tickling on your hips, you were anything but charming, yet your lover was devouring you as if his life depended on it.

"Migue-Hmhhh!" Despite your very brief escape, he simply pulled you back and continued to kiss and tickle you. Whew, he really was in a mood! You already knew he could be merciless, but everytime you would still be surprised.

Your freedom came only moments later when he finally moved on from your lips to your neck, which he started to tickle with torturous kisses, suckles and even with just his breath on your skin, but it was still better than you wheezing and wailing right into his mouth.

"Next time you eat my snacks, I might not let you off this easy," Miguel whispered in your ear, sending tingles through all of your body. Easy!? This was easy?

"I knohohow!" you giggled tiredly. He kissed your neck some more, performed one more wiggly dance routine with his fingers up and down your torso again, scribbled at your outstretched armpits to make you squeal a final time, and then released your arms at last. You immediately wrapped your sore arms around his neck and gasped for air. He wrapped his arms around you too, leaving you in the most comfortable embrace.

"Baby...?" you asked him shyly after catching your breath slightly while you remained in his strong arms.

"Yes," he said simply, rubbing your head and making you relax with this most soothing aftercare you adored.

"I know I can't compete with your favorite empanadas, but I was serious about... eh... about..."

Eep, so embarrassing. He was surely going to tickle you to tears again for this cringe!

"About what? About being my snack?" he hummed. You tensed and nodded, then slowly looked up at him with your flushed and teary face that was most likely not that attractive at all. Still, your precious Miguel did look at you as if you were the most delicious looking snack in all of the multiverse, and he smirked.

"Maybe I'll have a taste," he said, and he kissed you again, and although you didn't always mind his tickle attacks - no matter how intense and merciless -you were now glad you could just kiss him back like a normal person, and perhaps, make him enjoy this night so much he would forget about his stressful adventures and, of course, about those silly (but delicious) empanadas.