➹stuck On You Like Glue➹(miles Morales X Reader)

➹stuck on you like glue➹(miles morales x reader)

When your boyfriend is Spider-Man and he keeps getting nervous around you and so his hand is constantly sticking to yours, like if you can relate.

Basically, the many times you flustered this boy so badly he completely forgot how to control his sticking situation.

word count: 8.2k (LMAOO i rlly went wild w the word count again sorry)

a/n: hello!!  i need to mention 3 things i’ll try to be as quick as i can. 1: thank you SO much for the support my last one shot got, i can’t believe how well it did and some of your comments and tags really made my entire week honestly. i was really proud of it but i truthfully wasn’t expecting it to get much attention since i’m new here but it was a really nice surprise. i’m rlly soft i love and appreciate you all! 2: i’m taking requests bc i’m running out of ideas lmao, so don’t be scared to send me something!! also would anyone like me to write about ps4 peter parker bc i rlly need some content for him so pls let me know. 3: a peter b. one is coming after this one so stay tuned if you’re interested, but y’know i had to write about my bb miles so here’s this!! i had a lot of fun with it so i hope you enjoy it as well (:

Your body became one with the beat as your hips swayed along to the blaring music, your knees bending with each lift of your heels and your gut leaping to every pulse of the bass like a musical rabbit. You didn’t know the lyrics to the song that played, but it didn’t bother you in any way at the moment, because you could see in the distance your boyfriend’s passionate hand gestures and his precious facial expressions as he believed he was the singer— oblivious that you, in all your heart eyes glory, were his adoring audience. The corner of your lips turned upwards, to your benefit impeding you from appearing like a wavering zombie in the crowd of teenagers moving and jumping against each other. Your dreamy smile faltered, however, when Miles’ eyes drifted to you. You froze, standing tensely still, praying he wouldn’t notice your existence for once— despite the odd masquerade mask, which a random girl handed you and you gladly accepted to use as part of your disguise, covering half of your face and the plastic bead necklace messily wrapped twice hanging from your neck. Contrary to your hopes, though, the boy wasn’t blind, and if anything your awkward and rigid body only drew more attention to you than you had originally intended. He shouted something at his friends as he took a step back, then turned around and approached you with a flirty smile, his eyes glinting with a mischief that dried your throat. “Hey.” He said with a deep voice, his hand flying up to rest on your shoulder. “What’s your name?”

The dick, you fumed in your head as you squinted at him, wondering why it only happened to you that your boyfriend cheated on you with yourself. Suddenly, he leaned closer to your ear. “I thought you were supposed to stay at home so your ankle could fully finish healing?” He yelled, his voice partially drowned out by the loud environment nonetheless. Your eyes grew wide and you peered at him with amazement, removing your golden mask by tugging it over your head and further disheveling your already frizzy from the heat hair.

“How’d you know? I was wearing this!” You laughed, pushing the headgear into his chest. He took it, inspecting it closely before giving you a roll of his eyes with an amused toothy grin.

“Y/N, first of all, you know that’s my favorite shirt for you to wear, right?” He smirked, nodding down at your upper body. You followed his gaze, afterwards smacking yourself mentally. Of course it was his favorite— how did you not catch that earlier? As if the way he was unable to tear his gaze away from you and didn’t want to let go of you whenever you wore the garment wasn’t enough evidence; you truly needed to work on your weak deduction skills. “And I know you’re gonna make fun of me, but I’d recognize even half of your face anywhere. You really thought you could sneak by me all Hilary Duff in that Cinderella movie?”

“Well, it worked in the movie, didn’t it?”

He chuckled, shaking his head and gently taking hold of your wrists, pulling you with him as he began to squeeze through the field of heated bodies. “You’re an idiot,” You heard him say loudly, and also watched him apologize to a guy who glared at him since the boy thought it would be a clever idea to call you that right into someone’s face. “You really shouldn’t be here.”

It was strange, you noticed, how that particular night everyone wanted to be as close together as possible; basically forgetting all about personal space and such. You’d lost count of how many people you’d bumped into already. “I don’t know how telling me that is gonna work considering I am here, and you’re the idiot if you think I’m gonna sneak all the way back into my house without my parents noticing.” You replied, holding tight onto Miles in fear of losing him. Out of nowhere, you detected a hiss; and without warning, a cloud of smoke suffocated your face and lungs, painfully drying out your eyes. You began to cough, waving your hand in front of your vision to clear the mist— stupid fog machine, you grimaced, doubting if the beauty of the mystery the smoke added was truly worth it if it’s so unpleasant, and you nearly felt as if you were dying (which really was just you being dramatic like you enjoyed to be sometimes) whilst standing in it.

You and Miles wound up in the deserted backyard, its peace being a relief for your throats after straining them so much back at the dance floor. You dropped down to sit on the grass, which easily was an open invitation for bizarre and terrifying insects to climb onto you and dig whatever body part into your skin. Maybe then you could be like Miles— who said Spider-Man didn’t need a partner in crime, someone who helped him once in a while anyway? You did wish you could aid him, sometimes, especially since you wouldn’t know what to do if his superhero fairytale concluded like his predecessor’s. If it happened once, then it could happen again. You shook your head, pushing those crippling thoughts away— not tonight, perhaps later, but not right now. “Why do you worry so much anyway? My cast is off, so my ankle is living its best life.”

Miles sat down beside you, scanning the glowing water. “I saw you limping yesterday after school when you thought no one was watching.” You stayed quiet, trying but failing to formulate an excuse in your head. “That’s exactly why I’m asking myself how your dumb ass didn’t get caught tonight.”

You hummed, your eyelids fluttering closed. “You underestimate me, Morales. My dumb ass is what’s keeping me alive so far. Plus, my parents are secretly grandparents and they go to sleep at like eight on Saturdays, so it really wasn’t that hard.”

He whistled, but you knew he was just mocking you. “Someone’s a rebellious teenager!” He laughed when you shoved him away playfully, gently returning the shove immediately after.

“Whatever. People are weird, though. I can’t believe there’s absolutely not a single soul swimming out here. The freaking pool even has waterfalls! All fancy and stuff,” You scoffed, your brows knitted as you gestured your hand toward the pool.

“Well, why don’t you go swimming, then?”

You pursed your lips, slapping an ant crawling up your knee off of you. “Because… my ankle, you know.” You shrugged and he raised his eyebrows in amusement. “You just want to see me take my clothes off, you perv.” You changed the subject, trying to steer away from your contradiction and managing to make his eyes grow wide.

He rubbed his nose, attempting to conceal his flushed face. “What? You just admitted your ankle is still messed up.”

“I was lying— and don’t try to avoid the last thing I just said.”

“You’re avoiding what I just said, too.”

You groaned, but a giggle still slipped through your lips. “Miles… stop being such a smart-ass, okay? You always do this to me.”

You thought the conversation had ended there as you both silently stared up at the crescent moon, sadly no little boy fishing on it, but ethereal nonetheless. You sensed him turn his head, though, and began to wonder what ran through his beautiful brain. “How was it that you broke your ankle again, though?” You had to restrain yourself from jumping into the pool.

“Miles.”

“I forgot.” He batted his lashes innocently, although there was nothing innocent in how his mouth twitched.

Your stare was hard. “No, you did not.”

“I just can’t remember, I think I need you to tell me again to remember.”

“I’ve done that for the past two months.”

“Y/N…” He pouted— his large brown orbs, where the reflection of the hanging fairy lights swam, staring back at you with a gentleness that never failed to make your knees wobble. You were grateful you were sitting down at that moment.

You glared at him, laughing dryly and pointing a knowing finger at him. “You’re doing that thing. Stop that.”

“Doing what?”

“The eyes, you’re—” The jerk made all the contents in your stomach scream louder with a confused tilt of his head and you looked heavenward, frustratingly pulling at your hair. You gave in. “I was studying for our history exam.”

He nodded comprehensively, an interested but mocking hand stroking chin. “Aha.”

You dragged your fingers down your cheeks, dreading having to repeat the words once again; you guessed that’s what your parents felt like when you would ask them to read you the same book to bed every night back when you were little. “I was really tired, almost dozing off, and the fact that I had my blanket wrapped around me like the true human burrito I truly am wasn’t helping at all.” You stopped, hopeful that perhaps you wouldn’t need to continue, but he urged you to do so and you let out a heavy sigh. “Then I saw… a spider crawling up my hand, though.”

“Mhm…” He was struggling to hold himself back from spitting everywhere if he burst with laughter right there and then, most likely waiting for the best part to arrive so he could release all his tears. That was what he always did, after all.

“And you know the rest,” You almost got on your feet, ready to escape until he brought your bum back to the ground by tugging your arm. He trapped you against his chest, his limbs wrapped around you as if you were his personal life-sized teddy bear. “Dear God…”

“I don’t know rest.” He muttered into your hair. You made a disgusted noise at how he snuggled into you, but in reality, you didn’t even try to move away; you’d stay there forever, even if your previously broken ankle was uncomfortably twisted and aching since you were sitting on it.

“I’ve told you this story like a million times.”

“Well, I want to hear it again!”

“Goddammit, alright,” You slid your foot away from underneath your bottom, deciding it’d be best to take away its short-lived title of a chair. “I saw the spider and I panicked.”

“You panicked…”

“I panicked. I jolted awake screaming, jumped off my chair, and—” He was already wheezing and that’s when your grumpy self cracked as well, letting out a short laugh. “A-and my foot got tangled in my blanket, so I fell on my face, twisting and breaking my ankle.”

Miles screamed, unwrapping his arms from you and fell backwards, holding his stomach with one hand while the other slapped the freshly cut grass. No matter how many times you recounted the tragedy, he consistently reacted as if it were the first time hearing the story and top humor from the comedy gods. It took him an entire minute for his laughter to die down, his fists coming up to rub his teary eyes as he panted. He dropped his arms by his sides, looking prepared to start making snow angels at any second as he stared up at you with a lazy beam. “Good ab workout you had there?” You asked.

“I don’t need to work out. I’m Spider-Man.” He declared proudly, placing his hands under his head. You snorted.

“One day you’re gonna expose yourself if you continue reminding me that every five seconds, I swear to God.” You were clueless, however, that it wasn’t just excitement and pleasure for being the acclaimed, one and only web-crawler; but rather, he hoped that it would impress you— that your chest would swell with pride whenever you saw him in the news, swinging through the city, trying his best while doing small yet enormous deeds to care for it. The boy was clueless as well, though, that your heart did indeed admire him Spider-Man or not, and its thrumming solely at the sight of his smile and that small dimple in his right cheek would never come to an end. There it was again: your fingers twitching as he peacefully laid on the grass, humming the song that played inside at the party, unaware of how hard it resulted for you to catch your breath. You acted before thinking, grabbing his hand and leaning over his resting body the reach his other hand too. He quirked a brow, seeing as you weren’t one to be affectionate most of the time; it was him who initiated everything (his many weekly heart attacks loathed you for that): hugs, kisses, even hand holding— it was ridiculous. But you bit your lip, having that same knowledge in your mind as well, forcing yourself to remain where you were and not run far away, out of the state. It was your chance: the scenery was perfect— the pool, the serenity, the clear night sky and its countless freckles of stars and planets— it was a damn party; an ideal teenage movie, like the ones you two loved to watch once in a while because they never failed to entertain, either in the way that it wasn’t intended to do so, or because they were simply Miles’ guilty pleasure— and you would gladly watch every single one of them with him, since who said you don’t have to see a good rom-com movie at least every two months to live healthily?

“…What?” He asked when you sat there for too long, the color draining out of your face.

“I… looo… ike you.” Coward, you thought as you nervously smiled down at him. “Let’s dip our feet in the pool!” You blurted out, quickly crawling over to the edge of the swimming pool, quite literally running away from your feelings.

Miles’ entire body trembled, but he opted to ignore it and he gulped as he followed you closely, taking off his sneakers and socks before slowly lowering his foot to test the water. His big toe barely touched it when he flinched and shrieked, jerking his leg up. “It’s colder than the North Pole, no shit there isn’t anyone out here!” You chuckled at him, flinging your footwear somewhere behind you.

“You’re just weak, man. Look—” You smugly grinned. You didn’t pause to thoroughly consider your decision, shoving both of your legs into the pool. Your smirk transformed into an uncomfortable grimace and you glared at him, his entertained face now having a sly smile plastered on it. “No problem at all.” You said through gritted teeth, your wailing skin submerged underwater not enough to overpower the stubbornness in you.

“You sure?”

“Of course. Very.” He could see your soul leaving your body as you maintained your gaze on your feet and wiggling your toes to bring some sort of warmth to them.

He huffed, his forehead wrinkled. “Okay, Y/N, I get it, no need to get hypothermia just to prove me wrong—”

“What do you mean? I’m enjoying myself,” You dismissed him with a wave of your hand and an odd surge of confidence engulfed you, kicking you out of your body’s driver’s seat.

Being headstrong was a hell of a hazard for your safety sometimes; and right now, as you took your legs out and Miles started to giggle at what he thought was your defeat, until you began to unbutton your pants, jumping on one foot as you tried to wiggle your other limb out of your jeans, was a great example of just that. “Y-Y/N? What… what are you doing?” His voice’s pitch sounded higher and quieter than normal. The thoughts in the back of your head were just many question and exclamation marks while you carried on to discard your shirt; and he muttered something in Spanish under his breath, panicking and drifting his gaze down to the ground, afraid that he was trespassing your comfort zone.

“I’m going for a swim,” You announced casually, throwing your shirt at him. He caught it effortlessly with one hand, his large eyes too engaged in the piece of clothing to notice you crouching down in front of him to grab his free hand. “C’mon, wanna jump with me?”

Why was his head running a mile (hah, he thought, mile) a minute? He had a speck of hope that you hadn’t noticed his clammy hands, but oh, you definitely had. And you were ready to gently tease him for it— he could insist he had no struggles, but the last time he’d been as nervous was when he asked if you wanted to be a thing. However, as you attempted to let go of Miles to pinch his cheek like a grandma, you ended up lifting his hand, his fingers latched onto the palm of your hand. You stared at it and then up at the boy dumbfounded, shaking your extremity. “Wha…What is this? What… what are you doing?”

“I-I thought this would never happen again—”

“Happen again?! What do you mean happen again?” You questioned loudly, holding his arm still by his wrist, then yanking your fist away from him, which only resulted in you crying out from the pain of his fingertips pulling at your skin.

“Be careful! Don’t want to, like, peel your skin off or something—”

“Peel my skin off?!”

“Not that it’s gonna happen! I think,” He immediately corrected himself, raising his other hand— that your shirt hung from— defensively. You whined, surveying your surroundings to make sure no one was witnessing or recording this: you wearing nothing but your underwear, freaking out about you and Miles’ stuck hands. “Okay, this worked last time!”

You stopped tugging, opening your mouth to ask him to reveal his solution, but the boy simply closed his eyes and began to softly sing to himself, his eyebrows snapping together. He rendered you speechless— was that his idea? Singing as you sat there, regretting every life choice you’d made to get to this point of your life? You didn’t get the opportunity to lash out at him, though, because all of a sudden, you heard voices in the distance. You jumped to your feet like a scared cat who just saw a pickle, hauling a yelping Miles across the floor. “Get up!” You hissed, helping him stand up before running to hide behind the storage shed.

Keep reading