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Disclaimer: This is not an NSFW or kink blog. That’s totally cool if you are interested in that stuff but I just don’t like to write for it personally. Also while I do have some non tickle fics, I majorly write tickle related fanfics so if that’s not your thing tread carefully. <3

Update disclaimer: I do not read the Gwenpool comics but I love her whole vibe which is why I put her as my profile aesthetic. I’m looking to eventually check out her comics though.

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Here’s my second Supernatural fanfic! I love these guys so much. Not much for me to say other than I hope you like it.

Warnings: Tickling, mentions of alcoholism, also this is not to make Dean seem like a massive alcoholic (yes technically he can be considered one in the show but still), it’s not meant to be alarming, this fic is supposed to be purely fun.

Summery: Dean wants to go out on a beer run during the night. Sam is not for that.

The motel room smelled faintly of mildew, but it worked like any other motel they’ve been to. The two brothers were both doing their own thing, Sam was doing more research for their next job, and Dean was flipping through channels on the motel TV for the hell of it, drinking the last bottle of beer they had

Not long after, it was finished. Dean sighed as he shook it a bit.

He didn’t exactly consider himself an alcoholic (that much anyway), but he still at least wanted to stock up for the next day. Plus he felt he had to get out for a bit anyway. He was getting a bit antsy.

“We’re out of beer.” Dean announced with a sigh.

Sam, sprawled out on the bed with his laptop, barely looked up. “Yeah, because you drank it all.”

“Gonna go to the store,” Dean said, grabbing his jacket.

Sam glanced at the clock on the nightstand, raising an eyebrow. “It’s eleven o’clock at night, Dean. Can’t it wait until morning?”

“Nope.” Dean snatched up his car keys from the table and turned toward the door.

“Dean,” Sam said warningly, sitting up straighter. “You’re not seriously going out now just for beer.”

“Why not? It’s beer.”

Sam groaned, rubbing his temples. Before Dean could make it to the door, Sam stood and, in one swift motion, plucked the keys from Dean’s hand.

“Hey!” Dean whirled around, glaring. “Give those back.”

“No.” Sam said firmly, holding the keys behind his back.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Sam, don’t you start.”

“Dean, it’s late, you’re tired, and we don’t need you getting pulled over or worse just because you’re out on a beer run.”

Dean took a step forward. “I’m not going to get pulled over. Just hand them over.”

Sam shook his head, backing away toward the far side of the room. “Nope. You’ll thank me in the morning. You can’t get too drunk, we still have a case to work tomorrow.”

Dean’s demeanor turned a bit more playful, but still glaring. He inched toward Sam slowly.

“What are you… Dean, wait!” Sam tried to sidestep as Dean lunged at him, but the motel room didn’t leave much room to get around. Dean tackled him onto the bed, pinning him down easily. Sam may have been taller and bigger, but Dean knew his baby brother lile the back of his own hand.

“Give me the keys!” Dean barked, reaching for Sam’s hand.

“No! Get off, Dean!” Sam shouted, twisting and squirming as he tried to keep the keys out of Dean’s reach.

Dean’s frustration quickly turned into amusement as Sam wriggled beneath him. He remembered the countless times that they’ve done this when they were kids. He remembered exactly what he would do to make Sam give in. Dean’s grin slowly turned wicked.

“Oh, you’re getting it now.” he said, his voice low and teasing.

Sam froze for a second. “Dean… what are you- g-gYAh!”

Dean didn’t respond. Instead, he darted his hands to Sam’s sides, digging his fingers gently into his flank.

“Dehean nohoho!” Sam burst into high pitched hysterical giggles, his body bucking wildly. “Stohohop, plehehease!”

“Not until you give me the keys.” Dean replied simply, grinning as he kneaded his fingers into Sam’s ribs. “Man, I forgot how ticklish you are!”

“AHHahahaha ihihim nOHOhot!” Sam cried out. The loud, bubbly laughter pouring out of him reminded Dean of back when they were kids. Sam had the same little habits. Little squeaks in his laughter, his feet kicking out. His hands trying to reach for Deans arms to push uselessly. Sam was bigger now, but way too ticklish for his own good. It made Sam’s size meaningless.

“Oh, really? What’s this then?” Dean teased, moving his hands to Sam’s belly and squeezing just above his hips.

“PLeHEHeHahase! Nahahaha NOHOHot thehehere!” Sam shrieked, trying to twist away.

“Not the belly, huh?” Dean grinned as he sunk his fingers into it over Sam’s shirt and vibrated his fingers in. An old trick. And it clearly still worked. Sam’s laughter turned up louder and more frantic, writhing as his back arched.

“Oh and what about here? This still bad for you?” Dean’s hands darted to Sam’s armpits, wiggling his fingers in the sensitive hollows.

Sam howled with hysterical laughter, his arms instinctively snapping down to try to protect himself. “DEHehehan! Stohohop! I cahahahan’t!”

“Can’t what? Give me the damn keys?” Dean teased, his grin widening. He missed seeing his brother like this. So carefree, happy. He hadn’t heard Sam’s genuine and real laughter since they were kid’s.

Sam didn’t respond, too lost in his frantic, uncontrollable laughter as he pawed weakly at Deans chest and arms. The car keys were miraculously still in Sam’s fist.

“Hey remember that one spot I know you just loved?” Dean smirked, trailing his hands back to Sam’s ribs. “You always got weak right about…here.”

Dean’s fingers found the soft part of Sam’s ribcage, right at the bottom where the floater ribs were. He gently dug his fingers in lightly, kneading the area.

“NAHAHAHA! DEHEHEAN! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!”

“Bingo!” Dean said triumphantly with a wide grin, focusing his efforts on the spot. “This was your ultimate weakness, wasn’t it? Just these little ribs right here and, boom, you were gone!”

Sam was completely in stitches now. His laughter now high pitched, frantic, and desperate. His body writhed and twitched helplessly beneath Dean. “PLEHEHEASE! AHAHA! OKAHAHAHAY! OKAHAHAHAY!”

Dean paused for a moment, his hands still resting on the soft spot on his ribs. “You giving me the keys?”

Sam nodded frantically, gasping for air. “Y-yehehes! Juhust stohohop!”

Grinning, Dean plucked the keys from Sam’s hand and climbed off him.

Sam rolled onto his side, little giggling still leaking out weakly, as he tried to catch his breath. “You’re an ass.” he muttered between gasps.

“Yeah. But now I’m an ass with car keys,” Dean said with a smirk, jingling them triumphantly.

Sam shot him a glare but didn’t move to stop him as Dean grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

“See ya later Sammy!” Dean said with a wink before disappearing out the door.

Sam sighed and rolled to his back. His breathing and nerves finally stabilizing.

He smiled to himself despite the torture Dean just put him through. It felt good knowing Dean was the same old goof of a brother that he was when they were kids.

I’m so happy you like it 😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

- The Fall of Snow (lee!Sam, ler!Dean)

Sooo it started snowing where I live. And coincidentally enough I happen to have started Supernatural! Soooo… yeah I kinda had to do this fic. I love this duo so much, I love them. I wanted to do a fic of the brothers just being brothers.

Warnings: None aside from tickling, so if that’s not your cup of tea just keep scrolling. ALSO this is not a ship at all, it is entirely platonic and brotherly (they’re brothers), so if you are a “shipper” then please get tf out. Thanks.

Summery: Sam wants to experience the nostalgia he had towards snow when he woke up to a winter wonderland one cold winter morning. Dean of course is annoyed and doesn’t want to be childish, but Sam will convince Dean to enjoy it with him.

The sunlight streamed through the curtains, illuminating the battered and cheap motel room. The older Winchester, Dean, groaned as he rolled over in the creaky bed, trying to block the light with a pillow. He was not a morning person, especially not the morning after a grueling hunt. Every muscle in his body ached from the fight they’d barely survived the night before.

On the other side of the room, the younger Winchester, Sam, was already up, sitting at the small table with his laptop. Typical. Dean could hear the soft tap of keys, but something about the atmosphere felt... different.

Dean cracked one eye open, prepared to grumble something sarcastic, when he noticed Sam staring out the window, a rare, boyish smile spreading across his face.

“What’re you grinning at, Sasquatch?” Dean muttered, his voice gravelly with sleep.

Sam turned to him, eyes alight with something Dean hadn’t seen in a while. Pure, unfiltered joy. “Look outside, Dean.”

Dean groaned, reluctantly sitting up. His joints protested the movement as he shuffled to the window. Pulling back the faded curtain, he blinked against the glare of pristine white. Snow. Thick, powdery snow blanketed the world outside.

“Well that’s just great,” Dean grumbled, unable to help thinking about his 1967 Chevy Impala. “Guess I’ll be digging Baby out all day.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re such a buzzkill, man. It’s beautiful out there. Don’t you remember how much fun we used to have in the snow when we were kids?”

Dean snorted, turning away from the window. “Yeah, fun. Like when you’d pack snow into icy death balls and aim for my head. Or when I had to dig you out of a snowdrift because you thought you could jump off the roof into it.”

Sam chuckled, unbothered by Dean’s grumbling. “Come on, you know you liked it. Just admit it.”

“I don’t like snow, Sam. Never did. It’s cold, wet, and got me sick more than enough times.” Dean said firmly, grabbing his flannel shirt from the chair. “Besides, we’re too old for that crap now.”

Sam folded his arms, his grin widening. “Too old? Really? Since when did you start sounding like an old man?”

Dean shot him a look but didn’t reply. He shuffled to the coffee maker, muttering about needing caffeine to deal with his annoying little brother.

But Sam wasn’t done. “Come on, Dean. Just for a little bit. Let’s go out there.”

Dean’s head whipped around. “No. End of discussion.”

“Why not? It’s just snow. You’re acting like it’s lava or something.”

“Because I don’t want to, that’s why.” Dean took a sip of his coffee as he sat down at the table, determined to ignore Sam.

But Sam wasn’t going to let it go. “You’re no fun anymore.”

“Never was.” Dean responded simply.

Sam leaned forward, an impish glint in his eyes. “Remember that time I nailed you with a snowball so hard you fell into Dad’s car and dented it?”

Dean’s lips twitched, but he refused to give Sam the satisfaction of a smile. “Yeah, and I also remember Dad making me shovel the entire driveway as punishment while you hid in the house like a little wimp.”

“I was ten,” Sam protested, laughing. “And you were way too dramatic about it.”

“Whatever.” Dean shook his head, but he could feel his resolve starting to crack.

Sam pushed his chair back and stood. “Come on, Dean. Just for a bit. We’ll stand in the snow, soak up the nostalgia, and come back inside. I promise.”

Dean sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Whatever. But we go back inside right after. I still need my energy to dig out baby.”

“Deal.” Sam said, grinning triumphantly.

Bundled up in their jackets, hats, and boots, the brothers stepped outside. The crisp, cold air hit Dean’s face, and he shivered, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Sam, on the other hand, looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Man, it’s been forever since I’ve seen snow like this,” Sam said, gazing around. “Hey, remember when I’d beat you so many times at those snowball fights we’d have?”

Dean groaned. “Oh, here we go.”

Sam chuckled. “You’d always brag about how you could beat me, but I got you good more than a few times.”

“Please. I wiped the floor with you every single time.” Dean shot back.

Sam raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, is that so?”

Dean nodded confidently. “Damn straight.”

Without warning, Sam bent down, scooped up a handful of snow, and hurled it at Dean. The snowball smacked him square in the chest, leaving a wet patch on his jacket.

“Son of a- Sam!” Dean exclaimed, glaring at his brother.

Sam grinned, already forming another snowball. “You said you were the best. Prove it.”

Dean hesitated for a moment, torn between annoyance and the undeniable urge to retaliate. Finally, he bent down, grabbed some snow, and lobbed it at Sam, hitting him on the shoulder.

“Oh, it’s on now,” Sam declared, laughing as he ducked behind a tree.

The snowball fight escalated quickly. Dean darted behind the Impala, using it as cover, while Sam ran circles around the motel’s small yard. Snowballs flew back and forth, laughter echoing in the cold air.

“You’re getting slow, old man!” Sam taunted.

“Keep talking Gigantor!” Dean shouted back, hurling a snowball that narrowly missed Sam’s head.

Eventually, Dean got the upper hand. Spotting an opening, he charged at Sam, tackling him into a snowbank. Sam yelped as the cold seeped through his layers.

“Dean! It’s freezing!” Sam protested, trying to wiggle free.

Dean smirked, sitting on Sam’s legs to pin him down. “Oh, that’s too bad… my hands are cold.”

Sam’s eyes widened in panic. “Don’t you dare.”

But Dean was already shoving his icy hands under Sam’s jacket and sweater, pressing them against his warm sides.

“Dehehehean! Stohohop!” Sam squealed, writhing as Dean’s cold hands sent jolts of sensation through him. “It’s sohoho cohohold!”

Dean laughed, thoroughly enjoying his brother’s misery. “What’s the matter, Sammy? Can’t handle a little cold?”

“Plehehehease nohoho!” Sam gasped through his laughter, squirming violently as he tried pulling his brothers hands out.

“Oh, I just remembered something else I used to do to you,” Dean said, his grin turning mischievous.

Sam froze. “Nohoho! Dehehehean, don’t!”

Too late. Dean’s fingers started to wiggle against Sam’s sides, this time tickling him mercilessly. Sam burst into uncontrollable laughter, his voice breaking into high-pitched squeals.

“AHahaha noHOhOho plehehease!” Sam flailed, his arms uselessly batting at Dean’s shoulders. “Dehehean, I cahahan’t!”

“Dude, you’re way too ticklish for a grown ass man.” Dean teased, his hands moving to Sam’s ribs, then his stomach, finding every spot that made Sam jerk and shriek. “This is even better than I remember.”

“AHaha noHOhOHOt tHEhEhEhre! Stahahahap!” Sam howled through the cold air, his face red from laughter and the cold.

Dean, grinning like a madman, didn’t let up. He moved his fingers up to Sam’s armpits, and Sam practically lost it, twisting and bucking to try and escape.

“DEHEHEAN! PLEHEHAHAHSE NOHOHO MOHOHOHRE!” Sam’s laughter was broken and desperate, but Dean couldn’t stop laughing himself. He had all too many memories when Sam would completely lose it from being tickled. He was still way too ticklish for his own good, but Dean was glad that some things about Sam just never changed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Sam, Dean relented, collapsing into the snow beside his brother. Sam was left gasping, his face flushed and tears of laughter watering his eyes.

Dean smirked at him. “You are still such a baby, Sammy.”

Sam shot him a glare but couldn’t hide the reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah, but you love me, dontcha?” Dean grinned, nudging him playfully.

As the snow fell softly around them, the two brothers lay side by side, laughing and catching their breath, letting the cold and the moment wash over them. Maybe the cold and snow wasn’t so bad to Dean after all.

I really liked this idea but idk if someone did it already. If that’s the case it was totally on accident. Anyway that’s all I don’t believe I wrote for them yet sooo… here we are! Enjoy❤️

Warnings: None really except a ton of fluff, also that this is a tickle fic so if that’s not your thing feel free to keep scrolling

Summery: Tony spars with Peter, until he pulls a certain trick that leaves Peter rather helpless…

It was one of those days when Tony had set time aside for Peter to work on his hand to hand combat skills. Sure, the kid had super strength and agility, but Tony was adamant that being Spider Man wasn't just about relying on webs and sarcasm. So here they were, in the middle of a makeshift training area in the Stark Tower gym, dressed in casual workout clothes, ready for a sparring session.

“You know, Mr. Stark, we could’ve done this with, like, the suits on. That would’ve made it more authentic.”

Tony smirked, stretching his arms above his head. “Kid, if you can’t handle me without the suit, what makes you think you’d stand a chance against any big bad villain? No more stalling. Let’s go.”

Peter rolled his eyes but took a fighting stance. “Alright… but don’t get offended if I go easy on you…”

Tony snorted with a raised eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And whats that supposed to mean? Think I’m too old to keep up with a quirt like you?”

Peter’s eyes widened. “N-no… I.. just… meant.. um…”

Tony laughed. “Relax kid, I’m messing with you. Don’t underestimate me because you have superpowers and I’m just a simple man… who happens to be a genius… now come on let’s go…”

The sparring then began. Peter kept darting in and out of Tony’s reach, his spider sense giving him an advantage. Tony, though not enhanced, had many years of experience, as well as sharp reflexes. His movements were precise, calculated for an adult man.

They danced around the mat, Peter occasionally landing hits, while Tony worked on wearing him down.

Suddenly, Tony feigned a misstep, stumbling just enough to bait Peter in. The teenager lunged forward, and Tony took advantage of the moment, twisting around and pressing a specific spot on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter gasped, and his legs giving out beneath him as he crumpled to the floor, leaving him completely immobilized.

“What the—?!” Peter exclaimed, his eyes widening.

Tony crouched down next to him, looking amused. “Pressure point. An old trick. You’ll thank me when I teach it to you. For now, though…” He poked Peter’s arm, which remained limp and unresponsive. “You’re not going anywhere for a bit...”

Peter’s cheeks flushed. It couldn’t possibly get more humiliating than this… being immobile and helpless in front of his literal idol of all people!

“Mister Stark this is so unfair! I can’t move!”

“Exactly why it’s effective. Now, let’s see…” Tony tapped his chin thoughtfully, his gaze scanning Peter’s prone form. “What can I do with a completely helpless Spider-Kid?”

Peter’s eyes widened a bit. “Wh… what?.”

“Oh, Dont worry…” Tony assured him with a small grin. “You know I’d never seriously hurt you… but.. ” A mischievous grin spread across the billionaires face. He leaned down, and gently wiggled his fingers menacingly over Peter’s torso. “I enjoy messing with you…”

“No, no, no, no!” Peter protested, his voice rising in panic. He instinctively tried to squirm away, but he was completely immobile.

Tony’s fingers descended towards his sweater, dancing lightly over Peter’s ribs. The reaction was immediate. Peter let out a squeaky laugh, his Spidey sense going into overdrive despite the paralysis.

“Mihihister Stahahark! Nohohoho!” Peter burst out, his laughter high-pitched and uncontrollable.

Tony chuckled. “Oh, this is just gold. I didn’t realize you were this ticklish, kid. And here I thought spiders were supposed to be tough.”

Peters head shook a bit, with his neck being the only muscles on his body not paralyzed, his face turning a bit red. Tony’s fingers found a rhythm, alternating between light scribbles and firmer prods along Peter’s sides and ribs.

“Th-THIhIhIhIS IhiHiHiHiS SOHohOhoHo EHeHeeHeHEVIhIHihIL!!!” Peter managed out hysterically through uncontrollable laughter.

“You’re just the cutest giggly mess, aren’t you…” Tony teased, grinning. He was clearly enjoying himself. “Let’s see…” He shifted his attention to Peter’s stomach, his fingers spidering over the surface of his hoodie.

Peter’s laughter grew more frantic. “No! NooHoOHOhOHO!!! NOHoHoHoT THEhEHEREHeHE! PleHEheHAhAhase!” Peter squealed out in panic.

“Oh? Bad spot?” Tony teased. He pulled up Peter’s sweater slightly, exposing his belly.

“N-no! Wahahait! Dohohohont—” Peter

But it was too late. Tony’s fingers lightly scratched at Peter’s belly, and the reaction was immediate.

Peter squealed more and laughed hysterically. His head shaking. “MIHIhiHiSTEHeHer STAHaHaHaHRK!!! PLeHEHEHEHASe…”

Tony chuckled, gently scribbled all over his belly. Peter squealed and laughed, his head shaking more as it was the only thing he could move.

Tony then accidentally brushed over his belly button, making Peter shriek and laugh hysterically.

Peter’s laughter went silent for a moment before he let out a loud squeal. “STOP! STA-HAHAHARK!”

“Belly button, huh?” Tony said, grinning like Christmas had come early. “Quite the sensitive nerves here for such a small spot…” He dug his fingers in gently, circling the sensitive area and poking in directly at the center, gently wiggling his finger in.

Peter was utterly helpless, tears developing by his eyes as he laughed uncontrollably. “I CA-HAHAHANT TAKE IT!”

Tony finally took pity on him, pulling back and letting Peter catch his breath.

As the effects of the pressure point wore off, Peter sat up, glaring at Tony. “You… are… t-the wohohorst,” he panted, his hair disheveled and his face flushed.

Tony shrugged, completely unapologetic. “Maybe be a bit more aware I’m battle so this doesn’t happen, yeah?” He playfully poked Peters side, making him squeak.

“I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Not a chance, kid,” Tony said, patting him on the shoulder. “I think we can call this one another win for me. We can rematch again some other time.” He said, turning to leave the room.

Peter’s eyes widened “H-Hey! Dont just leave me like this!”

Tony chuckled as he walked away. “Don’t worry… it should ware off in a bit… although… maybe I should alert the others of your position…”

“N-no! Mister Stark don’t!” Peter panicked.

So… a disclaimer. This is based from the Spider man/Deadpool comic series (it’s really great btw for anyone who loves quality Spideypool content). Anyway, I just wanted to say that Spider Man/Peter Parker is supposed to be in his late twenties in this series (around 25 I think?) Sooooo yeah he is NOT a teen here, just so people are aware. Also Wade does not know his identity yet at this time of the story. Thank you. Enjoy the fic!

Warnings: None other than that this is a tickle fic so if that’s not your thing feel free to just keep scrolling.

Summery: Wade comes along just when Peter thought he’d finally have a peaceful night of patrolling.

It was supposed to be a quiet night on the rooftops of Manhattan. Or at least as quiet as it ever got for Spider Man. He had perched on a ledge, scanning the city below for trouble, when he heard the unmistakable voice of the chaos and devil incarnate himself.

"Spidey! My favorite wall crawler! My second favorite red suit wearer!" Deadpool appeared from nowhere, flipping onto the ledge beside him.

Peter sighed, his Spidey-sense tingling, not from danger but from trouble. "Wade. Shouldn’t you be off annoying the Avengers or something?"

Deadpool gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "How could I ever abandon you, my snarky soulmate? Besides, I brought tacos. Wanna share?" He held up a greasy bag and grinned.

Peter's stomach growled despite himself. "No. I don't trust food from you. Ever."

"Fine, Mr. Suspicious," Wade replied, rolling his eyes. He took one out, lifting his mask over his nose and chomped on it rather happily.

“Anyway… didja miss me? Of course you did! How could you not? I'm your best friend, after all.”

“You’re my something, that’s for sure,” Peter replied dryly, shifting away slightly to create some distance.

They stayed like that in some silence. Then Deadpool finally spoke again.

“So anyway… I heard something Intresting… apparently good ole Stark is planning to move the Avengers HQ somewhere else soon.

Spider-Man froze. "...Who told you that?"

"Sources, Spidey. I have sources," Deadpool said simply. “Also… he announced it to us…” he added after.

Peter looked down, processing what he had just told him. “Mister Stark never told me anything…”

Wade observed the hero curiously, noticing his disappointment. He shrugged again.

“I guess that’s what you get for leaving the Avengers. And because of me for all reasons…” he offered a small grin, which was visible due to the fact that his mask was still up over his nose from eating the tacos.

Peter hesitated and sighed. “Yeah… I guess you’re… right…”

Of course Deadpool was right. Spider Man was the one who decided to leave the Avengers. All because he couldn’t stand being on the same team Wade was on. Was he just being immature? Letting his annoyance of the merc get the best of him?

After another moment of silence Peter had enough. He wanted to be alone. Or… he felt he needed to be alone. He sat up more and prepared himself to shoot a web at a distant rooftop. “Look, Wade, I don’t have time for this… I-”

Deadpool then suddenly lunged at him without warning. “What’s this?! Leaving already? Without a bro-hug?!”

Peters eyes widened in surprised and annoyance. He tried to break free, but Wade was just stronger than him despite his Spider Man strength. He grabbed him firmly and tackling him onto the rooftop.

“Get off me!” Peter shouted, trying to wriggle free.

“Relax, I’m just being friendly!” Wade declared, pinning him down with alarming enthusiasm. “And by ‘friendly,’ I mean invasive!” He said playfully.

As Peter squirmed to escape, Wade’s fingers accidentally brushed against his side.

Small sounds escaped the younger hero.

“Was… was that a giggle?” Deadpool froze, looking down at him.

“No!” Peter shouted, trying to twist away.

“Oh my god… It was!” Wade grinned with excitement. “Spidey is ticklish! This is gold! Not that I’m shocked… I totally called it forever ago…”

Peter managed to shove him suddenly, and leaped backward, holding his hands out defensively. "Wade, don’t even think about…"

Too late. Deadpool lunged, fingers wriggling like a toddler aiming for a cookie jar. Peter backflipped away and dodged, using his reflexes to stay out of reach.

"You can’t escape forever, Spidey…!" Wade cackled, zipping behind him.

"You're insane!" Peter shouted, dodging another swipe.

"That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!" Deadpool grinned.

And so the chase was on. Spider Man had vaulted over chimneys and swung between water towers, but Deadpool kept chasing and getting closer with his own enhanced skills, his laughter echoing through the night.

Finally, Peter made the mistake of looking back mid-swing. Wade took the opportunity to grab the web line and grab Peter mid-air, tackling the Spider hero to the nearest rooftop.

"Time for some tickles web-head!" Wade declared, fingers poised and ready.

"Wade… don’t you da- GAHH! STOP!"

Spider Man finally bursted into laughter, squirming under the merc as Deadpool's fingers found their target, digging into his sides.

"You are ticklish!" Deadpool exclaimed triumphantly. Grinning as if he got the best Christmas present ever.

"GEhEhehet oHOHOhohoff!" Peter cried out in his giggles, kicking and flailing. "Thihihis ihIHiHis CHIHihildihihish!!!"

"Childish? Nah. Hilarious? Absolutely!" Wade laughed as he kept going, clearly enjoying himself far too much.

He found Spider Man’s tummy next and dug in. The red and blue clad hero squealed and squirmed more.

“Aha! Uh oh… someone’s a little weak here…” Deadpool grinned. “And just feel those abs… you’ve been working out for me~”

“WAHAHAHAHADE PLEHEHEAHAHASE SATAHAHAHAP!!!”

The merc chuckled, “Using manners now, are we? Someone’s desperate~”

He then shoved his hands into the younger man’s under arms and dug in gently.

Peter shrieked and convulsed. Wheezing more. “WAHHAHAHADE WAHAHAHAADE PLEHEHEEHEHAHAHAHAA!!!”

Deadpool grinned. “If you weren’t so sensitive about your identity remaining hidden, and if I wasn’t so respectful of it, I’d totally yank that mask off to see your cute giggly face~”

Peter felt he would truly die if the complete idiot didn’t stop. The teasing was just making jt worse too. He hated that he was too ticklish for his own good, and god he hated even more so that Deadpool of all people had to find out.

He soon finally managed to regain control over one arm and shot a web at Deadpool's face, temporarily blinding him.

"A-Ah! Hey! No fair!" Wade protested as he tried to pull the web off his mask.

Peter scrambled back quickly, gasping for breath. His heart going a mile a minute. "S-Serves you right…” he gasped out, slowly regaining his composure. “You can't just go around tickling people Wade!"

Wade finally freed his eyes, adjusting his mask. "Awww why not? It’s cute when you giggle instead of being so serious.”

Peter rolled his eyes. "You’re a moron.”

"And you're adorable when you're laughing, you should do it more.” Wade shot back with a wink.

"Shut up, Wade." Peter huffed trying to ignore the warmth filling his cheeks, as well as the fact that his heart was still very much pounding. He was all too glad he was able to keep his face covered with his mask. He sighed and shot a web, swinging off into the night.

Deadpool waved after him. "See you later, giggles!"