Peeping Peter
"Wade we definitely shouldn't be doing this!" Peter whisper-shouted across the darkness of the back entrance to the Avengers' compound.
"I agree. You shouldn't be doing this." Karen said from inside his suit in a highly unimpressed voice.
"It's not me Karen, it's him."
"Who the fuck are you talking to?" Wade asked, stopping in his tracks to look at Peter like he was a crackhead.
"Karen."
"Oh. You're schizophrenic. Why didn't you say?"
"She's the AI in my suit, dumbass! And she agrees with me. It's betraying Mr Stark's trust, especially on my part." Peter reasoned.
"Well if you want to leave you can, I just thought you'd want to see Captain America's secret habit..."
"Secret habit?" Peter repeated, pursing his lips in thought. Wade was making this too mysterious to refuse. "Ok. But I'm leaving straight after we see it."
"I knew I'd persuade you." Wade said, ruffling Peter's soft hair. They had come to the foot of the building.
"Second floor, third window across." Deadpool instructed.
Peter casually walked up the side of the building as if it was a regular feat. When he got to the balcony outside the desired window he shot two webs at Deadpool and catapulted him up.
"God, I am just amazing at making you blast sticky white ropes on demand." Wade whispered.
"Ew! Shut up, Wade." Peter punched his arm, flushing under his mask.
They crouched, making sure they hadn't been seen and then waited. Deadpool checked his Peppa Pig watch.
"They should be here in a minute."
And he was right. About a minute later Steve Rogers burst through the door carrying Black Widow with his lips locked around hers.
"Every Saturday night they come in here and have a little make out session after training. They never actually do the hanky-panky, at least, not on this compound. I don't think they want this little secret getting out." Wade explained while neither of them took their eyes off the duo that were now dry humping each other against the wall.
After a while, with Peter unable to look away despite the uneasy feeling in his stomach, they stopped snogging each other and Natasha left with a kiss on the cheek after sorting out her hair and tugging her clothes straight. Steve leaned against the wall with his head back, breathing heavily.
"Poor bastard." Wade said sympathetically shaking his head and tutting. "Imagine being blue balled every week."
Peter gulped.
"That was...intense. I didn't want to look, but I couldn't stop!" Peter said exasperatedly.
"Mesmerising isn't it? Now he just has a shower and goes to-" Wade stopped. "Wait a second..."
Steve locked his door and instead of going into the bathroom, he laid down on his bed staring at the ceiling. He spoke some words that were silent through the window and instantly a gigantic holographic image of pornography projected all across his room. The images were so 3D that they could have been real had it most been for their unrealistic size and the slight blue tinge.
Peter was horrified at the sight of straight porn. Boobs and vaginas littered the room and they were barely showing the men except for them forcefully penetrating the women. Now, don't make a mistake, Peter had seen plenty of porn in his young life and had had plenty of practice flicking one off being a closeted gay kid in the modern world, but it was always with gay porn that had ridiculous plots and plenty of ass, none of this straight stuff that was weirdly...violent.
The video played and Steve started stroking his hard member that had a defined outline in his gym shorts.
After a few moments he started jacking off for real, hand rubbing up and down his bare penis.
Wade did an exaggerate gasp and covered Peter's eyes with his hands. "Peter your innocent eyes! How could I expose you to this filth? I sincerely apologise!"
Peter yanked Wade's hands away and continued staring at the private scene, feeling immoral somewhere deep inside, but still not being able to tear his eyes away from the hunk's rhythmic self-pleasure.
Then disaster struck. Just as Steve climaxed Wade dropped his gun and as he bent down the hilt of his katana slammed against the window with a loud bang. Steve looked up alarmed at the window and made direct eye contact with Peter who looked to be alone due to Deadpool bending over.
A look of rage and embarrassment appeared on his face as a made the window opaque with an angry press of a control panel on his bedside table.
Peter was speechless. A sickening nausea fell over the eighteen year old. He was so screwed. Mr Stark would find out, think he was a pervert and...what? He would kick him out of the Avengers for sure, strip him of his suit. Peter's days as Spider-Man were now severely numbered.
"Oh....shittake mushrooms. Wade! Why did you make me do this?" Peter grabbed the merc's shoulders and shook him like a coconut tree.
"Chillax, Petey. Just say you accidentally threw your backpack up here so you came up to get it and then accidentally made eye contact with Wank Boy." Wade said in an infuriatingly relaxed voice.
Peter paced back and forth, definitely not panicking. "Ok. Ok. Ok. Yeah. Ok. I'll just play it out. I'm chill. Mr Stark will never suspect a thing. Why would he believe Steve over me? I mean they've only been colleagues for way longer that me and Mr Stark have, and have saved each others' lives countless times. No biggie."
"Spidey, you have got to calm down. Let's go, and if Stark calls you then he calls you, and you tell him it was a misunderstanding. Easy peasy. Number one rule of life, kid: fake it till you make it."
The anxious lad let out a big long breath. "Fine." He said, starting to clamber down from the balcony. "You are a terrible influence, Wade Wilson."
Wade fanned himself theatrically. "Stop, you're making me blush."
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"Hey Pete! Happy's in the car outside for you. I've got something super exciting to show you." Tony messaged Peter. It was exactly a week after Peter and Deadpool's excursion to The Avengers' base and this was the first contact Peter and Tony had had since then.
"Ok...thanks Mr S. I'll be there soon." Peter responded.
Mr Stark didn't seem angry at all. Maybe Captain America hadn't told him about his spying...
Peter put on his shoes and jacket and ran down the stairs to the sleek black car waiting for him outside the apartment building.
"Hey, Happy!" Peter said cheerfully.
"Hey, kid." And they set off to the Avengers' compound.
Upon arrival at the compound, Tony Stark was waiting for him by the front door.
"Hey, Peter, you doing well? Good. We can catch up later but I'm itching to show you something. You know the iron spider suit that you turned down a few months ago? Well I'm not saying you have to use it, but I want you to try it. I've added a bunch of new features that could be the differerence between life and death on missions." Tony said, walking Peter into a large empty atrium with a high tech cabinet at the end of it. Peter was doing an okay job at acting calm but was on the lookout for any signs of Captain America lurking in any of the rooms or corridors.
"Here she is, my work of art." Tony continued as the cabinet opened into three large compartments, the middle holding a shiny red and gold suit with the Spider-Man logo emblazoned on the front, and the two at the side projecting holographic data about the suit into the air.
"Wow, Mr Stark. It looks amazing!" Peter revelled, grinning at his benefactor.
"Try it on kid, the changing rooms are through there." He said pointing to a polished wooden door to the side of the cabinet.
Peter slowly walked up to the suit and picked it up out of the container, shutting off all the holograms to the side. Peter noted how remarkably light the suit was considering it looked to weigh tonnes. "Woah, it weighs nothing."
"Super light, super strong hydrocarbon and carbonsteel fibres with graphene-titanium sub-layers for extra protection, and an Ultrablack night mode. All in one suit. I'm actually quite jealous it isn't mine..." Stark commented, loving the subtle brags he could make about how good the suit was.
"Awesome." Peter hurried with the suit into the changing rooms. He stripped to his underwear and stepped into the suit that opened completely when commanded by him.
On the walk out of the changing rooms, Peter noticed how smooth it was to walk in, every movement felt powerful and comfortable at the same time, like moving with the flow of water in a current.
"Wanna test out some of the abilities?"
"Hell yeah, I do." Peter responded.
"Ok. Get the head on by touching your thumb and little finger together on your right hand."
Peter did as he was told and a shiny round helmet wrapped comfortably around his head, a detailed hologram appearing in his heads-up display.
"Slick." The giddy young hero marvelled.
"Ok. Now if you look at your left forearm there is a manual control centre for the types of web you fire and some other stuff."
"Electro-Web selected." Sounded inside the suit when he tapped the screen.
"Try it out." Tony said, gesturing towards the practice dummies rising out of the floor.
Peter leapt and shot three of the stationary dummies in the chests with a clump of web that sent visible electric shocks coursing through them.
"This is so cool, Mr Stark!" Peter said excitedly.
"We're not finished yet. Tell Karen to activate Night Mode." Tony said.
"Karen is in this thing? Where is she?"
"Here." Karen said suddenly.
"Oh! Hey Karen."
"Hey." She sounded unimpressed by the small-talk.
"Activate Night Mode please."
"Night Mode activated."
The shiny red and gold of the suit disappeared and was replaced by a jet black that made him look completely two dimensional.
"It's Ultrablack, a super-black substance made up of a forest of carbon rods that absorbs the vast majority of light giving you the appearance of being 2D. You will literally be invisble in any kind of darkness and as a bonus it is super hydrophobic." Tony half explained, half bragged.
"Deactivate Night Mode." Peter said. The black vanished leaving the shiny red and gold finish.
"Also," Tony said whipping a gun from his jacket and firing three bullets straight at Peter's chest, only for them to ricochet off. "It's completely bulletproof."
"Holy crap, Mr Stark! You could have warned me!" Peter exclaimed, shocked at how unexpected the attack was. Even his spidey-senses didn't detect the friendly fire.
"Warn you? You mean like bad guys do?" He winked.
An agent popped his head into the room. "Mr Stark, Captain Fury is on the phone for you, line 1, and I don't think he's in a patient mood."
"He's never in a patient mood. Thanks, Agent Reyne, I'll be right there." He replied, then turned back to Peter. "You can just keep practicing, see if you can find any more abilities. Play around with it. I might be a while."
Then he left.
"Hey Karen? Are you connected to my Spotify?" Peter asked.
"Not currently, but I can be. Would you like me to connect?" Karen asked.
"Yes please."
"Connected. Would you like me to play anything? Maybe the Hannah Montana soundtrack?" She said with a mocking tone of voice.
"Hey! It's a good movie! And a good soundtrack! But no, play my workout playlist please."
Now that he was listening to some energetic songs, Peter started practising his fighting and tried to find more of his suit's abilities, flipping around the room, showing those dummies who was boss. He was so lost in his training that he didn't notice Steve Rogers slink in through one of the doors and stroll up to him before it was too late.
"Command override authorisation: Captain America: Iron Spider suit."
The next projectile Peter tried to fire was jammed and his music cut out, but he still hadn't realised that Steve was standing behind him, flicking the web shooters in puzzlement.
"Suit, freeze."
Peter jumped at the command, able to hear now his music was off, but he couldn't turn around; he couldn't move at all, the suit was frozen in place, motor drives completely seized up. No matter how hard he struggled, he was like a statue.
"Hello, Spiderboy." Steve said smugly.
Peter's eyes widened. In his excitement about the suit he had forgotten about trying to avoid Captain America.
"Helmet off."
The mask neatly folded away exposing Peter's fluffy mop of brown hair and handsome face. Steve smugly walked over to him and brushed a stray strand of hair out of the frozen boy's worried face.
"You and I need to talk, don't you think?" Steve said, voice stern yet mocking, like he was talking to a particularly naughty dog. He lifted the boy like he weighed nothing and whispered in his ear gently. "If you scream, I tell Stark everything."
Peter's lips were sealed.
He was carried out of the training room, up a large flight of stairs and into Captain America's quarters. It wasn't just a bedroom and bathroom like Peter had thought, but a large apartment-sized cluster of rooms, with a large living area, a modern kitchen and what looked like a pool room. Steve propped Peter's rigid body on the sofa like a cardboard cutout and sat down in the chair opposite.
"I will ask you once, and only once: what were you doing on my balcony?" Steve questioned casually, with an undertone of extreme determination and annoyance.
Peter was now in an extremely tricky situation. On the one hand Steve was one of Peter's favourite Avengers and he wanted to be respected by him (and he was also terrified of what "I will ask you once" implied), but on the other hand he didn't want anyone to know about Deadpool, especially not Tony or Steve.
"It was an accident! I-I'm sorry!" Peter pleaded, then he word-barfed his planned excuses in one big jumbled mess. "I'd thrown my backpack up there accidentally, you know how super strength is, and then I panicked and didn't want to disturb anyone so I climbed up there to get it and I accidentally looked in because some light caught my eye in the darkness and I thought it could be a break-in but then it was you and you were doing...well...that...and I looked away immediately because that private and honestly you shouldn't even be embarassed, my aunt says it's completely normal, and everyone does it you know, like we're both guys here, but, erm, yeah, it's only porn, you have a right to blow off steam, but then I accidentally hit the window trying to climb down and you saw me and it will never happen again and I'm sorry!"
Well. That went about as terribly as possible.
"That's not the answer I was looking for." Steve said, cocking a perplexed eyebrow at Peter's frantic word vomit. "You weren't even signed in to the compound last night." Oh god, Peter despaired, he thinks I'm a dirty little pervert.
Steve shook his head, walked over, picked up a still frozen solid Peter and laid him face down on the floor in an area of empty space.
"Command: hogtie." Steve said. The suit contorted without Peter's help so that his legs were bent with his feet in the air and his hands locked either side of his conjoined ankles. "Pretty nifty tricks, huh? They're meant to be used if someone steals your suit, but I find this application a lot more handy."
"Mr Rogers please, this is one big misunderstanding! What are you doing? I barely even saw anything in your window!" Peter grovelled, but Steve still wore a determined smirk on his face. This kid had done him wrong and he was going to be punished for it.
"I know what you saw, kid, you were looking right at me, you little Peeping Tom. Or should I say Peeping Peter?" He leaned down to the struggling young lad and pressed a button on the control centre on his restrained arm. Peter's boots unclasped his feet with a hiss and hit the floor with two tinny clanks.
Peter was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. The sudden lack of pressure and cool air circulating around his feet made them tingle, and there was only one thing that he could imagine Cap doing with his exposed soles. God, he should have kept his socks on.
"Mr Rogers, please! I'm sorry! I'll do anything!"
"You don't even know what I'm going to do yet. And it's Captain America to you." With that Steve started tracing his fingers around the boy's feet, hard enough to tickle a lot but not enough to draw laughter from the brunette yet. Steve wanted him to squirm first, and squirm he did.
Peter's face contorted. The sensation wasn't explicitly displeasurable, but it was almost unbearably tittilating, like an itch you can't scratch. The ticking also reminded him of Deadpool; the mercenary found it extremely entertaining to watch the Peter bend to his every will just with a few pokes or strokes. In those circumstances, however, it was endearing and oddly erotic, Deadpool's intention their mutual pleasure, but this was just malicious torment, especially when Steve began to rake his nails up and down Pete's soft soles. The frozen supe's laughter really started to pour, first a trickle, then a torrent.
"Ahahahahanononono! Stev-ahahahahahahaha!" Peter squealed. The man was positively dancing his dextrous fingers across the pale soles, slipping up and down them with practised efficiency. Spider-Man urged himself desperately not to get hard; he imagined that having his cock tightly constricted in a frozen metal suit would be a worse torture than the tickling, but staying cool was proving difficult. There was a reason Cap was one of Peter's favourite Avengers, and it wasn't his personality...
Steve momentarily let up on his demonic raking. "Are you gonna tell me why you were on my balcony?"
"I already told you! I didn't see anything!" Peter panted.
"And I already told you that I know what you saw! You should know something about me Peter: I don't like liars." Steve started the tickling again, only this time he was spidering his fingers around the boy's feet in a completely unpredictable way, adding to the torment. From the balls to the pads of his feet the fingers scraped, Captain America's dull, manicured nails the perfect torture tools. Peter's real weak spots were his arches: every time Cap would run up then he screamed higher than before, and he hadn't even tried the toes yet.
"AhahahahahhahahahahahahahahaSTOPahahahahahahahahahahahPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEahahahahahahahahah! I'LL TELL YOU!"
Steve slowed his tickling but kept tracing his fingers around the edges like he did at the start, just to keep Peter at his mercy.
"I'm listening..."
Sweat was dripping in torrents off Peter's bright red face. The suit was extremely hot and clammy when it was in this locked mode, and it only added to the torture that Peter was experiencing. Weakly he managed to mumble a lie. "I was on the compound...and I saw these lights coming from your room. I swung up to see if you were ok and then it was...porn."
Steve Roger's cheeks tinged rose - with fury or embarassment it was impossible to tell - but he didn't interrupt: he seemed to be believing Peter this time, something about his tone.
"Then...I just couldn't stop staring. It was like it was addictive. I hadn't see anything like it before, so realistic, as if they're really there. I swear I wasn't even looking at you, I only looked when I accidentally hit the glass!" Peter was lying through his teeth: he had been utterly repulsed by the images he saw, but he put on his best straight-horny-teenager act.
"Well...your story checks out," Steve sighed, thinking it over in his head. "I believe you kid. Was that the only thing you saw?"
"Yeah," Peter lied again, "What else was there to see?"
"Nothing, nothing." Steve said with a relieved look on his face.
"Are you gonna let me go then?" Peter asked with a hopeful look on his face.
Steve turned to look at the boy on the floor before him. "Of course I am...after I teach you a lesson."
Spider-Man's face dropped and his mouth hung open in shock. "What? But I told you the truth!"
"I know you did, Spidey...but I have to teach you not to peep in people's windows. It's my duty as a public servant. Can't have Spider-Man creepin' on whoever he wants. I'll let you out after fifteen minutes, I promise." Steve had his smirk back on, but this time it was less sinister and more mischievous, which honestly worried Peter more. How could he make this worse?
Peter soon found out. With his limited movement his field of sight was small so when Steve's legs moved from in front of his face it was highly worrying. A few long moments and ominous sounds later Peter was alerted to Steve drizzling some sort of cool, slippery liquid all over his bare feet. The liquid was then rubbed all over his extremities by Steve and suddenly even gentle strokes tickled.
"Woah, what the hell is that?!" Peter exclaimed at the odd sensation.
"Just some baby oil to...heighten the feeling. And watch your language." Peter could feel him smirking. He was having way too much fun with this.
Peter nearly screamed when Steve raked a single finger down each of his feet. The oil had heightened his sensitivity to extremely torturous levels, every flick and manoeuvre felt one hundred times more powerful. Peter shuddered at the thought of the coming fifteen minutes. "This is going to be hell." Hell, inflicted on a tied up Peter, completely at the mercy of a muscled and vengeful Captain America. Peter gulped. Something was stirring down below.
Instead of fingers, though, he then felt hundreds of tiny bristles land on his feet ans remain motionless, keeping him on the agonising brink of ticklishness.
"What the heck is that?" Peter groaned.
"Oh these? They're just hairbrushes, no need to worry." Steve had laid the brushes stationary on the boy's lubed soles to tease him, and it was working. Peter was wound up like a Jack-in-the-Box, waiting for the pop.
The moment he clawed them down the young man's feet Peter's screams echoed around the room. From then on he offered no remorse for Peter, dragging the brushes down his feet like he was trying to clean a particularly dirty spot, and even mining for gold in the area in between his toes and the pad of his foot; an area of previously untapped sensitivity that sent Peter's screams for mercy up three octaves.
"BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSTOPSTOPPLEASEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Peter tried to gulp air in between his violent laughter, but he wasn't getting nearly enough.
Peter fell into silent laughter when Steve didn't let up, and ten minutes in - stifled and suffocating in the frozen suit, pushed to the limit by America's Hero - the laughter and struggling stopped completely as Peter slipped into the sweet release of unconsciousness.
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"-must have been training too hard, poor kid-"
Peter woke to the sound of...voices? Who's voices? Where was he? He thought he was in Aunt May's apartment, but maybe not...
"I guess so. Maybe I shouldn't have given him so much power in one suit...but I thought he could handle it."
Mr Stark. That was definitely Mr Stark. Peter managed to wrench his eyes open and found himself being loomed over by Tony and Steve...Steve. What Steve had done to him came flooding back, but before he could even attempt to say something Tony spoke.
"Hey Pete," he spoke softly, "you passed out from working too hard. Good thing Cap was there to spot you otherwise you might have been there a while. Nick just wouldn't stop talking."
"But-" Peter started, but was swiftly interrupted by Steve.
"He still looks a little hot don't you think, Tony?" The super soldier put the back of his hand on Peter's forehead like a caring father, amusement flashing in his eyes, daring Peter to say something.
Peter was, in fact, completely fine and was actually fairly cold: he was lying on a sofa in nothing but his polka dot underwear, which he had been wearing underneath the suit.
"Yeah, sorry we woke you, kid. You should get some more rest." Tony said.
"No, Mr Stark, really! I'm fine, I..." Peter knew he couldn't say what Steve did to him on pain of being outed as a pervert to Tony...and probably some more savage tickling. He gulped down his objection. "I just passed out from training too hard, you were right. I'm fine now though, I promise."
"If you say so Pete, but I'm sending you straight home. Your clothes are through there."
Peter got up, feeling a bit exposed being nearly naked in front of two people he looked up to, or used to look up to, and briskly toddled into the next room and got dressed.
On the way out to the car Peter passed Steve, and the muscly man gave him a smirk and a wink. When he wiggled his toes he could still feel the oil in between then making them slippery.
Maybe Peter needed a new favourite Avenger, muscles be damned.