#ss2k25

"Uh, Ruggie-san? Are ya- err, are you certain this is a good idea?"

Epel couldn't help but to question his upperclassman, a hesitant frown of skepticism on his face as they both hovered over their sleeping Spelldrive Captain, who remained blissfully unaware of their presence for the time being.

When Ruggie had first come to him during training camp suggesting they mess with Leona the next morning, he couldn't deny that he'd been more than a little... Hesitant...

As much as he preferred Leona to Vil most of the time, that wasn't to say he was stupid enough to think that his Spelldrive Captain couldn't be just as, if not more temperamental than his own dorm leader at times.

He could actually be pretty scary too in his own right, just not in quite the same way...

Where Vil could most accurately be compared to an icy blizzard when he was mad, Leona was more akin to a raging flame of quiet anger. It would hardly be considered wise to test his patience... The last thing Epel would ever want to do would be to intentionally incite that blazing wrath upon himself.

Ruggie hardly seemed to share in these reservations, however...

"Aawww, don't tell me you're chickening out on me now? What's wrong, you scared? Shyehehe..." the second year taunted him, not seeming the least bit nervous over the potential consequences his little scheme might result in.

Either he was incredibly brave, or extremely stupid... Maybe both.

Why he'd even come up with this idea to begin with Epel had no idea. All he knew was that he'd been remarkably persistent in his efforts to get him to participate, and it was only after a significant amount of taunting and bothering that he agreed.

Sitting here now though, crouching in their shared tent at training camp, while actively planning to tickle their literal apex predator of a captain awake? He was really beginning to question whether he'd made the right decision...

He almost found himself tempted to back out, only to end up caving again anyway when Ruggie began to cluck at him teasingly, an embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks as he whipped his head up to glare at him.

"Ok ok! Fine!!" He growled out, taking a swat at his snickering upperclassman that he unfortunately managed to dodge.

"Ugh! J-Just shut up will ya?! I ain't no chicken!!" He huffed. No one accused Epel Felmier of being a coward, and he never backed down from a challenge!

With this thought in mind, he firmly pushed aside the quiet voice in his head suggesting this was all a terrible idea... After all, what was the worse that could happen? Leona surely wouldn't be mad enough to actually hurt them right?

Probably...

~~

"Mmmggh..." Leona grumbled in his sleep, twitching a little at the annoying tingling feeling that disturbed his peaceful slumber.

It was still pretty early in the morning by his standards, and he'd been hoping to catch atleast a few more hours sleep before he'd inevitably be dragged out of bed by Ruggie or some other annoying juniors to run Spelldrive drills. It seemed that would not be the case, however.

As his mind reluctantly began to shift towards wakefulness, his body too became more aware, and it suddenly became a lot more apparent what had disturbed him to begin with...

"Wha?! Whahaha?!" He growled out a startled involuntary laugh as he blearily opened his eyes, and there hovering over him were Ruggie, because of course it would be him, and a little more surprisingly, Epel, the only somewhat tolerable person that dwelt within Pomefiore's halls.

"Wakey wakey Leona!" Ruggie snickered, sounding far too cheerful and mischievous this early in the morning, his grubby little hands squeezing up and down his sides, causing him to laugh against his will while Epel was a lot more unsure about it as he scribbled along the underside of one of his knees.

"Wahaha?! You lihihittle-?!" No doubt he'd been dragged into this little scheme by Ruggie, that much he was certain of, but that little fact was hardly going to earn him any kind of lenience, oh definitely not. As far as Leona was concerned?

They were both dead!

~~

In retrospect, Epel really should've listened to the voice in his head. This had, in fact, been a terrible idea from the beginning.

One minute, he'd been sitting next to his captain's knees and only just starting to get into the fun of tickling him when he heard his raucous laughter, and the next?

He found himself being roughly tugged off balance by one arm. Not by Leona, but by Ruggie, whom much to his insult and dismay was already darting out the tent flap after shoving him on top of their already ticked off upperclassman like some sort of human sacrifice.

"Thanks for being a good decoy Epel, have fun! Shyehehe!" He teased, turning tail completely and rezipping the tent, quite literally sealing poor Epel's fate just as Leona began to recover from the bony elbow that had struck him in the gut.

Oh no...

Epel laughed a little nervously as he scrambled to sit upright, bringing his hands up placatingly as he began to back away from the furious lion.

"W-Wait just a- aaAAH!! Aahahaha nohohOHO!! Leona-sahahahaan I'm sohohohorryyehe!!" As Leona finally pounced on him, and his own frantic laughter bega to fill the tent instead, he made a vow to himself right then and there;

At first, Peter Parker was your run-of-the-mill high schooler who knew everything about science. On his not-so-busy days, he was the web-slinging vigilante, Spider Man. Saving people and bringing justice to all across NYC. While this persona wasn’t something Peter voluntarily chose, he was grateful for it nonetheless. Because of this, he met a very powerful group of people like him, heroes whose goal was to not just protect NYC, but the entire world; hell, the entire universe and multiverse! The Avengers.

The day Tony Stark found Peter, everything changed. Besides getting a major upgrade to his suit, Peter’s new found home within the Avenger’s facility and new found family amongst the other Avengers was more than what he could’ve hoped for. Getting to fight alongside Earth’s Mightiest Heroes wasn’t on the young vigilante’s bucket list, but hey, you don’t hear Peter complaining.

It was a crisp winter morning, and the Avengers facility was nice and toasty. Thanks to Doctor Strange, the fireplace was magically lit to warm up the entire place. The kitchen smelled like a bakery with Wanda, Yelena, and Natasha baking cake and cookies to share with the others later. While most of the Avengers were lounging around the facility, Peter and Tony were in the billionaire’s lab running some diagnostics on the nanotech Spider Man suit. Since Tony made it, routine check-ups were a must to make sure nothing bad happened while Peter was out fighting crime.

Peter stood perfectly still as Tony tapped along the suit. “Can you activate the iron legs for me?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark.” Peter said, “EDITH, activate the iron legs.”

When Peter said that, the four iron spider legs protruded from the high schooler’s back. Tony nodded as he examined each one, occasionally scribbling on his clipboard.

“Walk around for a bit with ‘em.” Tony said, gesturing to the legs with his pen.

As Peter nodded, the iron legs hoisted Peter a bit off the ground as he crawled around the large lab, occasionally climbing up the wall to show off the legs’ strength. Tony nodded as he rhythmically tapped his pen. “Looks good, but how does it feel to you?”

“They feel okay, I guess,” Peter began, walking back over to the scientist. “There is one leg that feels like it’s stabbing me in the back a bit when I walk.”

“That one might be out of alignment. Here, turn around and let me check.”

As Peter turned his back, Tony walked up to his protégé with a small metal tool. “So, which one of these is giving you back problems?”

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle at the joke. “The bottom left one. It feels like maybe the joint got… dislocated, and that part of it is poking into my back.”

As Tony looked at the iron leg, Peter was right on the money. The leg had indeed popped out of place and the part that was supposed to be keeping them together was lodged in between the suit’s material and Peter’s back. “I see it, kid. Don’t worry, this shouldn’t hurt a bit. Here, why don’t you sit down? Doubt this should take long, but I know you don’t wanna be standing up the whole time.”

Peter thanked his mentor as he shot a web at a nearby swivel chair and sat down; Tony pulled up a chair as well and plopped down behind the young man. The philanthropist used his metal instruments to pick at the small piece, his fingers lightly brushed past Peter’s shoulderblade, causing the young vigilante to flinch and stifle a giggle. Tony immediately pulled away, a worried expression painted across his face.”You okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, Mr. Stark, you didn’t,” Peter quickly said, glancing back at his mentor. “You just… uh, startled me, that’s all.”

Tony studied the young man’s face, seeing a hint of redness dusted across his cheeks up to his ears. The mentor brushed it off as he resumed working on his mentee’s suit. As Tony was trying to relocate the misplaced piece, his fingers lightly scritched across Peter’s shoulder blade, making the teen flinch hard with a small giggle. This time, Tony pulled away with a hard look. “Okay, kid, what’s got ya so jumpy all of a sudden?”

Peter was about to speak, but closed his mouth, and sheepishly turned away from his mentor. “I-It’s nothing, Mr. Stark, really.”

“That’s a load of crap, kid,” Tony said. “‘Cause every time I touch around here, you start flinching.”

As Tony demonstrated his point, Peter flinched away with a louder giggle. The philanthropist studied the teen’s reaction before a small smile crept on his face. “Kid, are you ticklish?”

Peter’s whole body flushed. The way Tony asked so casually made the young vigilante want to disappear. “U-Uhm, w-what makes you s-say that?”

“Hm, I don’t know, kid. You tell me.” Tony said with a smug grin.

Before Peter could protest, he let out a small squeal as he felt his mentor’s fingers collide into his shoulderblades again. “M-Mr. Stahahahahark! Wahahahait!”

“Not now, kid,” Tony said. “Tryna get this piece back in place.”

The billionaire found himself smiling at his mentee’s giggling and light squirming. While he held onto Peter to make sure he didn’t move too much, his fingers were skittering across the other’s shoulderblades, occasionally sweeping across the teen’s neck, causing him to giggle and squeal. “Mr. Stahahark! Aahahaha! Plehehehease! Stohohop!”

“How come I never knew this about you, kid?” Tony said, stifling a laugh.

Peter could barely answer. Through his giggling, he heard a soft click behind him as the tickling came to a brief halt, allowing the teen to catch his breath. “There, all done.”

Peter let out small pants as he flexed his back muscles with the iron legs twitching in response. “Yeah, that feels… a lot better. Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony nodded with a satisfied smile as the teen retracted the iron legs. For a small moment, there was a beat of peaceful yet awkward silence, and the air felt too tense; Peter felt it, his spider senses were going off like alarm bells blaring and ringing in his head. “Mr. Stark? Is something the matter?”

“No, no, nothing at all.” Tony said, lightly tapping his foot.

If Peter had caught it a second sooner, he would’ve noticed Tony’s swift movements. He shifted his footing and pulled Peter into a bear hug before digging his fingers into the teen’s sides, making Peter giggle like a kid. “Aahahahehehe! Nohohoho! Mr. Stahahahahark!”

“When were you gonna tell me you were ticklish?” Tony asked. “This is too good.”

Peter squirmed in his mentor’s hold all while giggling his head off. For some reason, with all the times he’s been tickled by Ned, MJ, and May, this is somehow a lot worse. Maybe it’s because of the suit; Mr. Stark did mention one time it heightens his sensitivity just a tad bit, but to Peter, it feels like his sensitivity was cranked up to 11.

“Mr. Staahahahahahark! Pfftahahahaha!” Peter giggled. “Plehehehehease! Staahahahahap!”

“No way, kid,” Tony said. “I wanna know just how ticklish you are.”

Peter felt his legs give out as he slowly crumbled to the floor, but that didn’t stop Tony from straddling his mentee, and tickling his stomach and ribs. This caused the young teen to try and curl in on himself to block out the tickles, but it was futile.

Okahahahahay! Okaaahahahahay, pleehehehehehease!” Peter cried. “It tihihihickles so muhuhuhuhuch!”

“I’d imagine so; just look at you,” Tony teased. “Do any of the other Avengers know about this little secret of yours? Oh, just picture it: all of the Avengers in one room getting to see your happy smile.”

Peter’s face flushed a deep red as the thought appeared in his mind. He couldn’t handle that level of embarrassment. “Pleehehehehease! Dohohohohon’t tehehehehell theehehehehehem! Ahahahahahehehee!”

Tony breathed out a heavy sigh and grinned down at the young vigilante, pausing for a brief moment to let Peter catch his breath. “Alright, alright fine. I won’t tell the other Avengers… on one condition.”

Peter glanced up at his mentor, panty heavy with a small smile. “W-Whahahat would that behehe?”

“For hiding such juicy information from me, I expect an apology,” Tony said. “That seems fair, right?”

“W-What? W-Why do I have to apologize?” Peter asked, his heart skipping a beat.

Tony raised a brow and twitched his fingers, causing the teen to let out a giggly yelp. “So, you were intentionally trying to make sure I or any of the other Avengers found out? Am I understanding correctly?”

As Peter shook his head violently. Before the young teen could plead his case, Peter let out a shriek before dissolving into bubbly laughter as Tony attacked his armpits. Peter rocked his body from side to side to try and get his mentor’s hands out, but it was futile. “MR. STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHARK! AAAHAHAHAHEHEHEHE! NOT THEHEHEHEHEHERE!”

“Geez, kid,” Tony began. “Didn’t think you were this ticklish. This is adorable.”

Peter’s face flushed red, the casual teasing sending him over the edge. “I AM NOHOHOHOHOHOT ADORAHAHAHAHAAABLE!”

“There are like over a dozen other people in this compound who would disagree with that notion,” Tony said. “Now, back to more pressing matters: apologize for hiding this very cute secret from me, and maybe I’ll consider letting you go. Sound good?”

Peter was in stitches, he could barely speak. “NAAHAHAHAHA! THERE’S NOHOHOHOHOTHING TO APOLOGIHIHIHIHIZE FOHOHOR! AAHAHEHEHEHEHE! PLEEHEHEHEASE!”

Tony couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched his mentee squirm and laugh like a little kid. Even though he was called Spider-Man, Tony had to keep in mind at times that Peter was still very much a kid, and seeing how adorably he reacts to being tickled proves it. The billionaire was snapped out of his thoughts when Peter let out an adorable squeal as his laughter grew louder. Tony looked down and saw that his hand had slightly shifted down to the spot between Peter’s armpit and his top rib, causing the young teen to buck and squirm wildly.

“PLEEEEHEHEHEHEASE! NOHOHOH MOHOHHOHOHORE!” Peter cried.

“Apologize, and I’ll stop.” Tony said nonchalantly.

Peter kicked and laughed and squealed and squirmed, but nothing he did stopped the unbearable buzzing on his tickle spot. Eventually, Peter’s laughter fell on deaf ears and the young vigilante caved. “OKAAHAHAHAHAHAY! I’M SAAAHAHAHAHA! AAHEHEHEHEHE! I’M SAHAHAHAHARRYHYHYHY! PLEEHEHEHEHEASE!”

Being a man of his word, Tony removed his hands off the kid, letting him catch his breath. “See, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Tony grinned as he got off the young teen and extended a hand.

“You’re… you’re ehehevil, Mr. Stahark…” Peter panted, residual giggles slipping out.

“Eh, being a father will do that to you.” Tony said.

After Peter caught his breath, he took hold of his mentor’s hand, and pulled himself up. “You’re not gonna tell the other Avengers… are you?”

Tony contemplated it, but when he looked at the kid, he felt a sting of pity, and chuckled. He then reached out to ruffle the teen’s hair. “Don’t withhold secrets from me, and I won’t have to.”

“Why did the outlet start a podcast?”

The microphone amplified your voice in the Breaker Box, and you smiled a hopeful smile. Volt was cleaning some glasses behind the bar. Eddie, standing on a ladder, was making some small repairs and adjustments that he insisted on doing himself. The former looked up from his ministrations and smirked. 

“Do tell, live wire,” Volt chuckled. He didn’t even have to look at Eddie to know that there was a high chance he pinched his eyes shut. Your smile brightened. 

“For current events!”

Volt chuckled louder and affectionately shook his head. “Of course they did, why else?”

“Don’t encourage them, Volt,” Eddie groaned. “That was terrible.”

You made a show of crossing your arms and giving him a light huff. “They’re supposed to be terrible, that’s part of the charm. Here, let me try another one..”

There was the sound of pages turning as you flipped through your book of self-curated jokes and puns. You muttered to yourself, thinking out loud, searching for one that even Eddie may like. Your finger grazed over one a few times and you visibly perked up. 

“Did you hear that the Devil is going bald?”

Eddie was hammering a nail into a loose ceiling tile while you spoke. Volt, while putting away the clean glasses, shook his head. 

“Oh dear,” he hummed with faux sympathy. “I can’t say that I have.” 

A light snort escaped you, though you did your best to keep it together. You hadn’t even said the punchline yet. 

“Yeah,” you continued, nodding. “There’s gonna be hell toupee.”

Okay, that one wasn’t too bad. Eddie coughed to conceal his chuckle. He made his way down the ladder, pretending to swat away a cloud of dust. 

“Damn tiles are dusty again,” he grumbled. There wasn’t an ounce of annoyance in his voice though. The corners of his lips were turned upwards ever so slightly. “I thought you said you’d already done a deep clean.”

“I have,” Volt answered. He arched a brow at his partner and hummed with interest. “Oh my, is that a smile I see, darling? Did you find that joke humorous?”

“No,” Eddie grunted. “I told you the tiles are dusty.”

A small smirk played on the taller man’s lips. He reached above his head and swiped one finger along a tile closest to the bar. When he turned it around, it was clean. 

“Well, would you look at that?” Volt grinned. “Not a speck of dust in sight. Come now, indulge our little spark. You enjoyed that joke.”

You eyed the two of them with a little smile. It tugged at Eddie’s heart strings, or whatever was the electrical equivalent, but he was nothing if not stubborn. Volt could definitely attest to that.

“I did not,” Eddie argued. “Look, I’m not saying you’re bad at this or anything. Just that the jokes are just…I don’t know, cheesy? Don’t you have any others?”

“I do,” you nodded. “But none that you’ll like apparently. I mean honestly, do you ever find anything funny?”

“I-”

“Well,” Volt interjected with a sudden spark in his eye. His smile turned sharper. Mischievous. “Now that I think about it, live wire, there is something that would put a smile on our lover’s face…”

“What are you-”

Eddie could feel a shift in the room, both literally and figuratively, and then the metaphorical light bulb went off in his head. The way Volt was casually but also knowingly grinning at him helped him have a clearer picture of what he was hinting at. 

Oh no. No, no, no. That’d only happened one time, and Eddie swore he didn’t even react. 

Volt remembers it differently though. 

“Oh no, Volt don’t you dare.”

“What?” Your head turned from one man to the other, eyes wide with curiosity. “What’s he talking about, Eddie?”

“Nothing-”

“It’s a charming little detail really,” Volt pressed on, rounding the bar and striding over to you. The clamor of Eddie’s footsteps echoed after his. “Why, our Eddie is quite ticklish.”

There it was. 

There was a beat of silence. The lights above hummed as if waiting for something. Then, you squealed. 

“He is?” 

With a confirming chuckle from the taller of the two, you met Eddie half way. “You are? Aw, I didn’t know that! That’s so cute.”

“First off, I’m not cute,” Eddie again grunted, though his cheeks looked rosier compared to a moment ago. “Second, I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. I’m not ticklish.”

Volt followed you over to him, laughing softly. “Are you lying again? Mm-mm, that just won’t do. Whatever shall we do, live wire? I will follow your lead.”

“Weeeelll,” you sang sweetly, closing in on your grumpy lover. “If he really won’t laugh at my jokes…”

You were approaching him from the right, which meant that Volt took the left side. Eddie’s cheeks reddened and backed up even further.

“B-Back off,” he warned. His arms instinctively dropped towards his sides. This only encouraged you. You ran towards him, but you didn’t get far. 

Your foot got caught on one of the floorboards, and you went down with a surprised squeal. You weren’t hurt, but it still caused Eddie to hurry toward you with alarm. 

“Oh shit, you okay?”

You groaned from your reclined position on the floor. You landed chest first, butt in the air, but still managed a thumbs-up. “Yeah yeah, I’m fine. My shoe got caught.”

“Yeah, well…that’s what you get,” Eddie, relieved, snorted before he could stop himself. A series of deep chuckles came right after. “Told you to back off.” 

Your head snapped up to his. You regarded him with shock before a sudden grin overtook you. “Oh, that’s what’s funny to you? Get him, Volt!”

Volt was already two steps ahead of you. Literally. He interrupted his partner’s giggling to gently grab his arms and pull him into his chest. 

“You would laugh at our spark’s stumble? How dare you,” Volt pretended to growl as he tried to bring the man down to the floor with him. Eddie wasn’t going down without a fight; there was a mini battle of arms and elbows right in the middle of the bar. 

“Wh-o-a, hey! Let go of me!” Eddie managed to pull out of his grip, but Volt was persistent, and  never had his hands off of him for very long. He yelled when Volt used one of his long legs to sweep his own from underneath him, and he kicked as he was guided down on the floor. 

You would be the one that’d sway the metaphorical cards in Volt’s favor. After picking yourself up off of the ground, you strolled over to the feuding men with a small smile. “You know,” you hummed. “You are struggling a lot for someone who claims that they aren’t ticklish.”

“Because I’m not,” Eddie retorted, as if that response made perfect sense. He had Volt’s hands in a firm grip, but Volt was using his legs to pin his partner’s down. He then gathered his hands in one so that he could half-heartedly swat at you as you knelt beside them. “Spark, if you tickle me, I’m gonna-”

Tap, tap, tap. 

You curiously poked at the man’s rib cage with your index finger. You kept your touch light, occasionally giving a rib a gentle scritch, and Eddie tensed. He pinched his lips shut and leaned to the side, inadvertently pushing closer into Volt’s chest. He moved to grab your hand, but Volt used the distraction to finally pin his wrists above his head. 

“Gah! Volt!”

“There we are, much better,” Volt kissed Eddie’s forehead and smirked. You gave him a grateful look and switched to wriggling your fingers into his sides. Eddie squirmed, battling between pulling his wrists free and dodging your ticklish touches, only to lose on both fronts. 

 “Let—sp-spark..pssht…”

Eddie pinched his lips shut again to trap the incoming snicker. You perked up and giggled lightly. 

“What was that?”

Eddie didn’t answer. Instead, he shook his head, a wobbly smile just barely tugging at the corner of his lips. You scritched up his torso, lightly clawing at his ribs before burrowing your fingers into the softness of his armpits. Eddie jolted upwards and tried to pull his arms down, but Volt kept them up.

You looked to Volt for a bit of guidance. “Where’s he most ticklish?”

“Oh no, darling. I can’t make it that easy,” he chuckled. He trailed his light kisses down the man’s forehead, to his cheek, and ending at his neck. Each kiss left a ticklish tingle that ran across his skin. Eddie’s shoulders shook with restrained chuckles. “You’ll have to figure it out yourself.”

Fair enough, you thought. You alternated between gently scritching at the hollows of his armpits and circling the area with your fingertips and nails. 

Eddie couldn’t hold it back anymore. Gruff, breathy chuckles escaped him before he could try to reel them back in, and Volt’s ticklish kisses were not helping. He tried to growl in between chuckles, but that just added to the cuteness factor. 

“F-Faahahahaha! Spahahahahahark!”

You made a big show of gasping and, wanting to chase the sound, you returned to his ribs. You used the pads of your fingers to lightly pinch and knead over the spot. This made Eddie jump and laugh louder. 

“Hmhm, ‘not ticklish’, huh?” You grinned. “I dunno, seems like you’re ticklish to me.”

Eddie’s cheeks reddened. “I’m nohahah—AH! Vohohoholt sahahahaha!” 

Volt couldn’t help himself. He nuzzled into his partner’s neck to blow quick, electric raspberries into it. Literal sparks jumped off of his lips. Eddie’s laugh took on a more frantic, giggly note. He swiveled his head from one side to the other, but all Volt had to do was move to the opposite side that he couldn’t protect. 

“Hmmm?” Volt hummed against his skin. He took a breath and ducked his head down to blow a raspberry into Eddie’s collarbone. The resulting yelp and harder laughter made him smile. “Am I not allowed to kiss you?”

“Nohoht like thahaht!” Eddie’s legs drummed against the floor as he tried to curl in on himself. Volt chuckled and pressed teasing kisses back up the man’s neck. He waited a bit, watching him shiver and jump, before blowing a series of raspberries on his neck that made Eddie swear and howl. 

For a moment, you’d stopped tickling Eddie and watched the two of them. If there was a way for you to have heart eyes, you’d definitely have them. It was so nice to see them laughing after the power scare not too long ago. 

Your curious hands found their way to Eddie’s stomach. You clawed over it, keeping your touch light, and Eddie bucked. It was so sudden that you’d almost fallen off of him. 

“Wahahahahahit!” Eddie’s laughter deepened as he squirmed underneath you. “Oahahahaha! Nohohohot thehehere!”

Volt looked up from what he was doing, chuckling. “Well done, live wire,” he praised. “His stomach is definitely one of his more ticklish spots. And, you’re only getting warmer..”

Feeling encouraged, you switched to quick pinches along his tummy, squealing as the man bucked around even more. You steadied yourself by straddling his waist. His usually tucked in shirt had come undone and gave you access to the skin underneath. The moment your fingertips made contact, he threw his head back with laughter. 

“OHOHOAHAHA! NOHOHOHO!”

“Oh my gohosh,” you giggled. “I’m shocked at how sensitive you are.”

Volt snorted. You didn’t really mean to make the pun, but there it was, front and center. There was a groan somewhere amidst Eddie’s loud, deep laughter. 

“SHUHUHT UHUHUP!”

“Ah, ah. Manners, Eddie..” He gathered the other man’s wrists in one hand so that he could better join the fray. Sparks danced along his fingertips as he poked and prodded down the man’s torso. Each of his touches delivered a ticklish shock that had Eddie howling. He bucked again, and this time you steadied yourself by holding onto his hips.

Eddie snorted and, ironically, jumped as if he was electrocuted. You curiously kneaded your thumbs into the spot, and Eddie’s deep laughter jumped to hysterics. He bucked and twisted and you had to make more of a concerted effort to not fall off. He laughed silently, especially when Volt’s ticklish shocks found their way to his waist, and that was both of your cues to let up. 

You slid off of his waist and Volt released his hands. Eddie breathed deeply, still chuckling, and wiped the tears from his eyes. 

“Ugh, both of you suck..” He breathed. He sat up with Volt’s help, who pulled both him and you into his lap. You chuckled. 

“You love us,” You blinked up at him with a sweet smile. Eddie’s eyes flicked to you, then Volt, and then he sighed. He was going to get both of you back, especially Volt, but for now?

“Yeah. I guess I do.”

“Damn it…”

Dean groaned as he rubbed his neck, trying to work out the eternal knots tormenting him. He was used to being tense, but he wasn’t used to his shoulders screaming with every slight movement.

They’d been hunting a shifter two days prior in Oklahoma. The thing had swung out of a window, and—because of course he did—Dean had followed.

That shit hurt.

Once the adrenaline had worn off, Dean was left with the pain of healing muscle tears and Sam’s annoyingly valid lectures.

The taller man had gone out on a supply run, leaving him to wallow in his misery. Since he was alone, Dean felt no need to quiet any of the (slightly dramatic) pained noises he was making.

“I hate shifters,” he sighed, placing the microwaved bag of peas on his left shoulder. He really should’ve asked Sam to pick up a hot pack, but that required admitting he was wrong to his brother.

He’d rather die again.

Unfortunately for Dean, Castiel hadn’t left the bunker with Sam like he'd thought. He’d simply been in his room for the morning.

While wandering through the bunker, Cass caught the sound of Dean’s less-than-quiet complaints, lingering outside of his door for a moment.

“Are you alright, Dean?”

The hunter jumped, wincing as he reached for his gun on instinct. The look on his face was almost comical when he realized who was in the doorway. “Damn, Cass, you ever learn to knock?”

“The door was open. Knocking on air wouldn’t have made a noise, and you would’ve been just as shocked.”

“That’s not—” Dean sighed, running a hand down his face: there was no point in arguing. He didn’t feel like spending ten minutes breaking down the concept of knocking on the door frame. “Whatever. Did you need something?”

“No, but I heard that you were in pain. I wanted to see if I could help,” he said, taking a few steps closer to the bed. Castiel could see that little vein in Dean’s neck throbbing, betraying the pain he was in.

“Oh. Uh…yeah. Screwed up my shoulders on that shifter hunt,” Dean shrugged. “I think I pulled a few things. Got the bastard, though.”

Castiel furrowed his brows at that, reaching a hand out to heal him immediately. Dean shrugged it off, shooting the angel a glare. “Don’t waste your mojo on that, Cass. You need your strength for other stuff.”

“Other stuff…” he mumbled, tilting his head for a moment. Once he’d processed Dean’s stubborn refusal, an idea popped into his head. “What if I helped via non-angelic means?”

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at that, his sour mood fading with the little head-tilt. It was one of his favorite Cass-isms to observe. “Via? Who says that in casual conversation?”

“I do. Just now, actually.”

Dork.

“Okay, fine. What non-magical means you got, Cass?” Dead huffed, not even trying to suppress the grin tugging at his lips. There was no point around the angel; fondness was a key part of most of their interactions.

“Is it alright for me to touch you, Dean?”

The hunter choked on air at that, wincing when the motion tugged on his sore muscles. That was not what he expected the angel to say. “Uh…why?”

“Trust me. I’ve learned quite a few medicinal techniques since the fall,” he preened, subtly smiling to himself. Cass completely missed the insinuations of his previous words, instead proud of his ability to help Dean and his brother.

Castiel’s little grin was infectious, making Dean huff and shake his head. That man was impossible to deny when he was happy. “Have at it, man.”

With a pleased hum, Cass climbed onto the bed behind Dean, gently placing his hands on the hunter’s shoulders. Slowly, he pressed his thumbs into the tense muscles, squeezing with just enough pressure to begin working out the tension.

Dean groaned, letting his head slump forwards. He hadn’t been expecting a massage, but damn, that felt good.

“I’ll take that as a positive response,” Castiel grinned, letting his hands drift outwards. He palmed the muscles around Dean’s shoulder sockets, squeezing and rubbing. If Dean winced, he’d soften his touch, prod a bit deeper to help relieve the pain.

Dean was in pure bliss, letting his happy sounds out freely. Castiel was surprisingly good at massaging, and it had been a long time since he’d relaxed enough to feel as loose as he did in that moment.

Cass had finished his work around the sockets after a few minutes. His hands traveled in, beginning to work the softer skin around the base of Dean’s neck. Feeling the difference, he lightened his approach, gently stroking along the muscles to try and locate knots. He’d expected a sigh or two, maybe a curse.

What he hadn’t expected, however, was for Dean to jerk away, the hunter’s hands flying up to his neck.

Castiel’s concern was immediate, his brows fully furrowing as he leaned forward. His expression was akin to that of a guilty puppy. “Dean? Did I hurt you?”

One of Dean’s hands flew up to cover his face, the other shoving Cass away. He muttered something behind them, though it was nearly indecipherable. The angel managed to make out a “fine” and “fuck off” from the slurred mumbles.

“I meant no harm, I swear,” Cass insisted, trying to place a glowing hand upon Dean’s neck. He looked so guilty, those pinched brows and slightly pouting lips.

Dean groaned, shoving the healing hand away once again. “Damn it, Cass, you didn’t hurt me. Knock it off.”

“Then why did you flinch? You never flinch unless you’re hurt.”

It was almost painful, how much Castiel cared for him. Another groan escaped the man when he realized he’d have to explain the truth; he couldn’t take seeing Cass look so guilty.

“It just…it tickled, okay? No harm done. Now quit lookin’ at me like that.”

“Tickled?” he puzzled, his famous head-tilt once again on display. Cass knew of the concept, of course; he’d seen a few glimpses of tickle fights between Jimmy and his daughter through his vessel’s memories. He simply hadn’t expected Dean to be sensitive to them.

Not even Castiel’s little idiosyncrasy could ease Dean’s embarrassment. He was a hunter, damn it. He shouldn't be ticklish, shouldn’t have such a childish weakness. “Yes, now drop it.”

Cass blinked a few times, processing the information: Dean was ticklish, obviously embarrassed about it, and feeling down after the shifter hunt. The angel saw a golden opportunity to perk him up.

With a hint of a mischievous grin, Castiel leaned back in, fluttering his fingers along the sides of Dean’s neck.

“MMmph— hehey! Cass, gehet off!” Dean snickered, trying to run. The angel stopped him, of course, wrapping an arm around his chest and pulling him back. Dean was trapped against the other man, and he knew what fate lied ahead of him.

“C-Cahass, I swear, if you don’t— Dahamn ihihit, Cahahass!”

Dean’s cheeks burned as Castiel’s fingers gently fluttered across his neck. The tickles were killing him, soft in the most torturous way. He hadn’t been truly tickled in…well, decades. Sure, he and Sam gave each other an offhand poke here and there, but nothing like what Cass was doing.

“Fascinating. I never would have thought you’d be this ticklish,” Cass mused, his grin growing by the second. Human nature had always charmed him, especially their quirks. As far as he knew, angels’ true forms didn’t share that nervous response with them. In his vessel…well, Cass simply didn’t know. He’d have to experiment at some point…

“Shuhut uhuhup!”

Right. Daydreaming could wait—he had a Dean to attend to.

“You should really relax more, Dean. Your muscles wouldn’t ache this severely if you took care of yourself.”

Castiel paired that statement with a few experimental pokes to Dean’s sides. He was delighted to hear the yelps of ticklish surprise from the man.

“C-COHOME OHOHOHON!”

That particular statement reminded Castiel of one of the only times he’d seen Sam come close to tickling Dean. It was just a few pokes, but the added element of a condition seemed to really get to the man.

“How about this: you promise to rest properly over the next few days, and I stop.”

“THIHIHIS IHIS BUHUHULLSHIHIT!” Dean whined, hating how unthreatening the statement sounded through his laughter. Cass was being a massive dick by taking a page out of Sam’s book, even if he did have a point.

Of course he was protesting. The mighty Dean Winchester would never agree to taking care of himself without proper convincing. But—luckily for Cass—he’d found the perfect method of convincing him.

“N-noho, nohOHOHOHO! YOUHU AHAHASS!”

Ignoring the insult, Castiel continued to tease the small bit of pudge beneath Dean’s navel. It was the place where his muscles gave way to soft, vulnerable flesh, making it the perfect death spot. The angel was catching on to human patterns rather well by that point.

“It truly isn’t that difficult, Dean. All you need to do is promise that you’ll rest your shoulders. Sam and I can handle missions until you’ve properly recovered,” Cass repeated, clawing his fingers into the pudge like he’d seen Sam do in the past. It had an immediate effect, almost startling the angel.

“SHIHIT! YOUHU *snort* DAHAMN IHIHIT!”

Dean was, to put it simply, losing his shit. It tickled so badly; his mind was reeling from both the unexpected intensity of the ticklishness and the bold touch on such a sensitive spot on his body. His face was burning, his nerves were shot, and honestly?

It was kind of nice. Laughing freely, feeling light and giddy, completely unable to worry about all of the catastrophes the world loved to throw at them: he was totally in the moment. Dean didn’t really think that was a possibility for him outside of sex, but there he was. It was fuckin’ weird to think about, yes, but it was nice.

Yet, as nice as it was, Dean simply could not handle being tickled like that for much longer.

“F-FIHIHINE, FIHINE! IHI PROHOHOMIHISE!”

An angel of his word, Castiel stopped the tickling immediately. He left his hands on Dean for just a few moments, slipping in a bit of healing so his sides wouldn’t be sore from laughter. With how disheveled Dean was, Cass doubted he’d notice.

Dean huffed, panting as he tried to catch his breath. He knew his hair was a mess from all the squirming, and he could still feel the heat behind his cheeks. “Uhuhugh, you bihitch…”

“You know you need the rest, Dean. Now, sleep. I can feel that you’re tired.”

“Yeheah, no shit, Cass,” he grumbled, rubbing his sides. He didn’t really need to—they weren’t sore, after all—but it was a bit comforting. “Get outta my room, asshole.”

Castiel smiled softly, heading for the door. He’d pushed his luck rather far that afternoon, and Dean could use the rest. “Alright. Sleep well, Dean. I’ll wake you when Sam returns.”

“Yeah, whatever. Out.”

Once the angel was gone and his door was shut, Dean allowed himself to melt. A small, confused smile settled on his face as he bit his lip and thought about the past twenty-ish minutes. He and Cass had definitely grown closer over the years, but that? The happiness he felt, the comfort around Cass, the trust he had, the safety in it all: that was…

“Shit.”

“And that's how you do it.” Vaggie turned towards Charlie, holding up the feather sheath she'd cleanly removed from her wing. Said girl's eyes were sparkling with amazement. Vaggie blinked. “...What, it's not that impressive, is it?”

“It is impressive, Vaggie! I didn't even know feathers came in plastic wrapping!” Charlie grabbed the translucent casing, wanting to get a better look at it, only to flinch as it promptly crumbled in her hands. “Oh uh- whoops.” Vaggie chuckled at her girlfriend's antics, giving her a light pat on the shoulder. “It's called a sheath, hon. And don't worry, it's meant to do that.”

They hadn't had much time to think about it before, but now that Heaven's attack was over and the hotel was mostly rebuilt, Vaggie's newly regrown wings have become the center of attention for the two girls. Charlie was utterly fascinated by them, despite the fact that both Husk and her dad had wings too. “I like yours the most!” was Charlie's response when Vaggie pointed it out, and, well, she wasn't going to argue with that. Besides, it's not like she minded getting the opportunity to teach her enthusiastic girlfriend and keep their minds off of more… stressful matters for a while.

Right now, Vaggie was demonstrating one of the most basic forms of wing care: preening. The whole ‘pinch, twist and pull” procedure came pretty naturally to her, even when she was so out of practice… surely Charlie wouldn't have much trouble with it either, right? After demonstrating on a few more feathers, she turned around and sat down cross-legged on the bed, holding her wings out loosely. “Alright babe, you ready to try for yourself?”

“I-I think so!” Despite her words, Charlie sounded audibly nervous as she reached out towards one of Vaggie's long, silvery pin feathers. It kind of resembled a paintbrush, with the fluffy feather tip peeking out from the thin keratin wrapping. It looked so delicate… What if Charlie accidentally snapped it? …No, it's alright, she can do this! Vaggie made it look so easy! All she has to do is pinch, twist and-

Pluck!

It took a second for Charlie to process the way her girlfriend's wings flinched, and the whole feather that she was now holding between her fingers. But once the realisation set in…

“Ohmygosh Vaggie I am so so sooo sorry!! Did that hurt? I mean, of course it did, I literally pulled a feather out of your wing and- oh no, what if I've permanently damaged your wing?? And you just regrew it, too! Oh, it's all my fault, I-”

“Hey, calm down. It's just one feather, and it will grow back. It's not the end of the world.” Vaggie gently took hold of Charlie's hands, an exasperated yet fond expression on her face. While all the overdramatic fretting was admittedly kind of sweet, it definitely wasn't a good idea to let it spiral out of control. Goodness knows poor Charlie had enough guilt on her hands as is… So, Vaggie took the feather, dusted off the leftover flakes and put it aside before getting back into position. “How about you try again? Maybe go for a smaller one this time. Oh yeah, and don't worry if it crumbles and gets everywhere; I can wash it off after.”

“Okay, if you say so…” Even more nervously than before, Charlie searched Vaggie's wings for a better pin feather to practice on. It didn't take long to find one, but its small size just made it look even more fragile… No, it's alright. Vaggie said the small ones were easier, and she trusted Vaggie.

Making sure to be extra careful this time, Charlie pinched the feather softly, rubbing it gently between her fingers instead of trying to twist it off fully. She watched in amazement as the sheath quickly flaked away, leaving only a bit of keratin dust that neither girl minded. Vaggie let out a small hum of satisfaction. “Yep, there you go… that's how you do it.”

With newfound confidence, Charlie repeated the process on a few more feathers, each attempt feeling easier than the last. Soon, she found a comfortable rhythm - as it turned out, preening wasn't so scary once she got the hang of it. “Oh wow, this is actually kinda fun!”

“Mhm, it's really nice…” Vaggie seemed to be enjoying this even more than Charlie was, practically melting under her girlfriend's gentle touch. She even ruffled her feathers to give Charlie better access, much to the latter's delight (so fluffy!). It'd been ages since someone else had preened her wings for her, and she'd forgotten how amazing it felt… It was like a soothing back massage, but ten times better. Just pure, relaxing bliss.

But then, the sensation began to change. It seemed Charlie had gotten brave enough to experiment with different techniques, and was now lightly combing and kneading her fingers through Vaggie's soft plumage. This was effective enough at clearing away some of the looser sheaths, but it also came with a rather embarrassing consequence: it tickled. Like, a lot. Pin feathers were sensitive after all, and each graze of Charlie's nails sent a new wave of tingles through poor Vaggie's wings. Instinctively, she pressed a hand against her mouth, trying to suppress the giggles that were bubbling up in her throat. Still, she couldn't stop her wings from quivering helplessly under the touch. It didn't help that Charlie seemed completely oblivious to the effect her actions were having… How could Vaggie protest in the face of that cheery smile?

It was when Charlie's fingers found the base of her wings that Vaggie's composure broke. With an uncharacteristic squeak, she burst into laughter, doubling over as she tried not to accidentally smack Charlie with her wings. Startled, Charlie froze for a moment, processing the sound of Vaggie's giggles and the sight of her reddened cheeks. Then, her eyes widened, and a brilliant smile spread across her face.

“Wait, Vaggie, you're ticklish?? That's so cute!! How am I just finding out about this? Hold still, I gotta test this!”

“W-wahahait-!” Before Vaggie could react, Charlie began attacking her wings with renewed enthusiasm, the gentle kneads turning into playful pokes and rapid scribbles. Oh, that was so, so much worse. Immediately, Vaggie burst into another fit of giggles, her wings fluffing up in a futile attempt to defend themselves from the tickling fingers. Charlie's affectionate, possibly unintentional teasing wasn't helping matters, either.

“Aww, your giggles are so adorable, Vaggie! We should do this more often!”

“Nahahahahaha! Chaharlie, stahahap!”

“You look like you're having fun, though! I haven't seen you smile so wide in ages. Besides, your wings are just so soft, I can't help it!”

“Shuhuhut uhuhuhuhup…!”

As if Vaggie wasn't already enough of a flustered wreck, that was when Charlie found that weak spot at the base of her wings again. With just a single poke, Vaggie threw her head back and squealed with laughter, her wings flapping frantically and nearly whacking Charlie in the face.

“EEEEEHEEHEEHAHAHAAA!!”

(Un)fortunately, that was when Charlie stopped, her hands abruptly pulling away from Vaggie's wings. It took a few moments for the fallen angel to catch her breath, a giddy smile still plastered on her face. All that laughing had been pretty embarrassing and a tad overwhelming, but she had to admit… it’d felt kinda nice too, maybe even more so than the preening. Speaking of which, it seemed all the flapping and flailing had actually shaken off a lot of the remaining sheaths, and her wings felt better than ever before. Heh… maybe they really should do this more often, flustering as it is.

In fact, Vaggie was so distracted by all the lingering fuzzy feelings that it took a moment for her to realise that Charlie was speaking again. In contrast to Vaggie's own mental state, Charlie's voice was softer than usual, almost worried-sounding. “Hey… you okay? You squealed really loudly back there. I hope I didn't go too far…”

Oh Charlie, always worrying about other people. These past few months have been pretty hard on her, after all… She was probably still harbouring so much regret under that energetic exterior. Even now, when the two of them were just supposed to be having fun together, she was still so anxious…

For a moment, Vaggie was silent, her chest still heaving slightly from the force of her previous laughter. Then suddenly, she whirled around and lunged at Charlie, tackling her down onto the bed!

Charlie let out a yelp as Vaggie's gentle yet firm hands shove her shoulders, followed shortly by her back hitting the mattress. Looking up, she was greeted with the sight of Vaggie holding her hands out, wiggling her fingers at her with a devious glint in her eye. “Oh, don't worry, you didn't go too far… but now, it's your turn.” Instinctively, Charlie tensed up and squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the incoming onslaught…

…only to be met with a soft, fluttering feeling on the side of her neck.

Slowly, Charlie opened her eyes, and spotted the fluffy feather in Vaggie's hand - the same one she'd accidentally pulled out earlier. Vaggie twirled the feather in her hand, her gaze much more tender than before. “What, you really thought I was gonna go all out on you now? I can tell you're still a bit stressed out, sweetie. I think you need some nice, relaxing ‘feather care’ more than I do.”

For a moment, Charlie's eyes welled up with tears, moved by her girlfriend's sweet gesture. But then, she felt the feather brush against her neck again, and soon soft giggles were spilling out of her mouth rather than sobs. All the while, Vaggie gazed at her with that loving expression reserved exclusively for her, cupping her cheek with her free hand. “There you go. Hmph, and you said my giggles were cute… yours are even more adorable.”

“Hehehe… Aww, Vaggie…” Charlie felt herself relax involuntarily as she gave into the soft affection. The feather felt both soothingly fluffy and utterly ticklish at the same time, and Charlie couldn’t help but scrunch up her shoulders playfully with each little brush. Thankfully, Vaggie’s quick reflexes let her move the feather out of the way every time, just darting it over to the other side to continue the gentle assault. There was no need to switch tactics or pick up the pace. Just this moment of lighthearted comfort was more than enough.

At some point, Vaggie paused, holding the feather up in front of Charlie’s face. Said girl was still giggling slightly, her face adorned with a smile that was somehow even brighter than usual. Vaggie huffed in amusement at the sight. “See, babe? You make mistakes, but that’s okay - we can find ways to fix them. And sometimes, we can even turn them into something worth smiling over.” Vaggie waved the feather around and booped Charlie’s nose with it, drawing out another little laugh from the blonde. Afterwards, though, her expression softened into one of genuine gratitude. “Thanks, Vaggie. You were right… I needed this.”

Vaggie smiled. “Anytime, sweetie.”

…

“Now then, get over here! Tickle tickle tickle!”

-------- A few moments earlier --------

“I’m honoured to have this meeting with you, Mistress Yae Miko.” Kokomi spoke. Her tone was professional and masterly, honed by the years of experience being the priestess of Watatsumi Island.

She had decided to seek Yae Miko to learn more about the cultures of kitsunes. A meeting was quickly organised between the two. A few days had passed since her request for a meeting, and now she found herself visiting the Grand Narukami Shrine, sitting in a well-decorated room across from the pink-haired shrine maiden.

The room had a comfortable atmosphere; the tatami mats underneath were warm to the touch, in contrast to the colder climate outside.

Kokomi had her hands placed on her knees “As I have said before, I would like to learn more about the modern Kitsune culture local to Inazuma.” she started. “Since the both the sakoku and the vision hunt decree have halted, I believe it would be of my interest to learn more of Inazuma’s traditions.”

“Well…” Yae Miko started, bringing her finger to her chin as she ponders, a smirk appears on her face,  “Firstly, I think it’s well known that kitsunes are rather… playful”

Kokomi felt her stomach drop at the tease. She nodded, hinting to Yae Miko to continue. “And when kitsunes are in a rather playful mood, they tend to do… this”

Yae Miko stood up, making her way towards Kokomi-

-------- Present time --------

“Waha-wahahahait! Mihihihis Mihiko-” Kokomi giggled out.

Yae Miko’s fingers were currently scribbling all around the soft skin of Kokomi’s exposed stomach, occasionally dipping her fingernails into her navel, earning her a high-pitched squeak from the hydro user.

“Awww, isn’t this adorable?” Yae Miko cooed out from on top of Kokomi, who was currently pinned under the shrine maiden on the floor. “The well-respected priestess of Watatsumi Island is, in fact, ticklish!”

The tickling was driving Kokomi to melt into a puddle of laughter, and the baby talk from Miko wasn’t helping. The blush on her face grew pinker, almost matching the light shade of pink of her hair.

“NahahahHAHa!” Laughter poured out of Kokomi’s mouth. Her arms flaied around, like a fish out of water.

Miko immediately grabbed one of her hands, pulling them up and over her head, giving Miko full access to her torso. She wasted no time greedily digging into her most ticklish spots. 

Snorts and squeals escaped Kokomi as she felt Miko’s devilish fingers scratch around her ribs. She used her other hand and swatted at Miko as an attempt to fight back from the tickles. “WahaHAHAHAiT! Ihihi- *hiccup* It’s soHOhooh tihihIHicklish!”

“My, my, I had no idea, miss Sanganomiya! I just thought you found me hilariously humorous!” Miko teased. Kokomi whined through her laughter in response to the sarcasm.

Small sparks of electro energy left Miko’s long-nailed fingers, the ticklish sensation from it drove Kokomi to hysterical cackles, to which the smirk on Yae Miko’s face grew.