#please supergiant let me hug her

[rainbowsparklecur]

skin, bone, fuzz, everything made to die sometime

[sergeanttpoliteness]

➹tickle war➹(miles morales x reader)

Requested by @ponyboys-sunsets ➝ GIVE ME ANYTHING WITH MILES PLEASE GOOD LORD I LOVE HIM literally just y/n and him being super h*ckin cute! like cuddling and we get in like a tickle fight or something and it’s just so cute! 

Did you really have a good cuddling session if it doesn’t turn into a tickle fight?

word count: 3.1k

a/n: oof, i had some terrible writer’s block so finishing this was the most fulfilling thing ever omg. hello @ whoever’s reading this! i’m sorry this request took so long, i really need to learn how to write faster lol, but it’s here and it’s short but cute and i love it. i didn’t really edit it tho so if there are any mistakes i’m sorry. i forgot to say this last post but holy shit thank you so much for over 150 followers! and 620 notes on my first peter b. story (working on part 2 btw wink)??? the heck?? that’s nuts, i hope every single one of you enjoy what i write (: request are open if anyone is interested, especially since valentines day is so soon, so feel free to send something if you want! also��i’ve decided that mcdonald’s in miles’ universe is called mcdonnie’s bc why not lmao

You could be too messy sometimes. Things to add to your next year resolutions (you were also too lazy to start right now— again, one more addition to the list): for the love of future you, stop throwing stuff wherever just because you don’t have the energy or will to properly place it in its appropriate spot. If only you’d worked on that flaw earlier, for right now you had your toothbrush inside your mouth— your tongue crying out from the icy pinch of the mint— frantically rummaging through your room, seeking for your favorite jacket. The weather that night didn’t necessarily call for the use of a coat, and it’s not that you were the fashionista of the generation (you tried your best… most of the time), but it was the last detail your outfit needed for it to be impeccable, and of course you’d turn your room upside down just to find it. It wasn’t as disastrous— perhaps for future you, yeah— but at least you got ahold of those pants that had been missing for weeks which sweetly hugged your figure in all the right places, along with a two-year-old calculator (hey, no more asking your classmates for an extra one) that’d do wonders for your brain during math class.

In the midst of your hunt, a clatter outside caught your attention. No big deal; you did live in New York, after all— the complete opposite of a ghost town. However, you later realized it wasn’t outside. No, it was your window. It happened again— clink! You recoiled, a small yelp escaping your throat. When it continued, you contemplated running away and calling your parents, frightened like a small child who suspects there’s a monster under their bed; but the detective in you (and stupidity, since this is exactly how people die in horror movies) drove you to investigate. You opened the curtains with a determined attitude, your expression hard and stern, but that temporary bravery fled out of your body the instant you laid your eyes upon the dark faceless figure staring back at you. You screamed— or tried to, taking in mind the toothpaste— scrambling to grab the nearest object to attack. But your vision adjusted once the light from your bedroom illuminated the intruder, and your rushing heartbeat eased with the laughing face of your boyfriend.

You rolled up your window, a distressed crease between your eyebrows. “Mwolth, whot thwo fwock!” You exclaimed through the abundance of toothpaste, tilting your head back to stop it from leaking through the sides of your mouth. Miles’ snickers, although adorable, heated your cheeks further from the humiliation.

“Sorry! I didn’t think it’d scare you that much.”

“Y—” You began, but raised a finger, telling him to wait, and ran to the bathroom. After spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing your mouth and sink in the record time of six seconds, you barged back into your room and to your open window. He was nowhere to be seen, until you looked out in search of the boy and your vision shifted below you: he sat against the brick wall, his knees close to his chest. You sighed, rubbing your eye as you chuckled at him. “You’re one hell of a boy.”

He showed you a crooked grin. “Is that good or bad?”

“It’s good. Why didn’t you just, uh, I don’t know— knock on my door like a normal person?”

“Well, ‘cause I’m not like other guys,” He joked, his voice husky and mysterious, a smolder adorning his face. You closed your eyes as you laughed and he shrugged. “I just wanted to be a romantic boyfriend, y’know, and throw rocks at your window!”

You let out a dreamy sigh, fanning yourself. “So romantic, giving me a heart attack.”

“What can I say? I’m the master of romance.”

“Alright, master of romance, get in before one of my neighbors sees you and faints.” You waved your hand before walking away, continuing to ransack your dresser. Miles climbed the rest of the wall and up to the opening casually with his hands inside his pockets, as if it were the most common ability a teenager could ever have. He gasped when he entered and took in the chaos your room had become: the floor cluttered with crumpled schoolwork and socks (why did you have so many socks?), a mountain of pajamas on your bed, and the mess only incremented as you tossed and additional shirt on your desk.

“What the hell happened here?” He frowned, stuck where he stood due to the path full of obstacles. You cursed under your breath and slammed the cabinet closed, moving on to the last one.

“I can’t find my jacket,” You grumbled, your scowl exchanged by a puzzled stare as a shirt you wore when you were eight dangled in front of you. “God, I really need to take out a lot of stuff.”

Miles jumped from each clean spot to another, pausing when he noticed an old broken Spider-Man keychain tangled with a wool friendship bracelet. He carefully grasped it with his fingers, his mouth twitching. “I’m not surprised.”

You glanced back at him, your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

His face twisted at your question as he laughed. “Y/N, I love you, but you can really be the messiest person at times. Like, look!” He jangled the keychain and your eyes lit up, your hand reaching out to take it. “This thing is from like seven years ago— I got it from McDonnie’s, too. I bet you ‘accidentally’ misplaced it and it just disappeared.”

“Dude! I was so sad when I lost this keychain, I blamed this kid in my class and said that he stole it. Apparently he didn’t,” You mumbled sheepishly, and then hissed when you saw the purple and black bracelet wrapped around the metal ring. “I used to be friends with this girl and she gave me this bracelet.”

“What happened to her?”

“Our friendship ended when I accidentally dropped her hamster down the stairs.”

His eyes widened in horror, but moments later he was wheezing as he sat down on your bed. “Damn, Y/N.”

“Look, I felt terrible afterwards. I just wanted to see it roll in the plastic ball thingy,” You grimaced, apologizing in your head to the spirit of the unfortunate creature you accidentally murdered. Before you started crying, though, the irritation bubbled up in your chest and you rubbed your temples. “I still can’t find my jacket!”

“I can give you my jacket, i-if you want.” Miles offered shyly, flustered and ready to slip off his coat.

He paused when you rested your hand on his shoulder, which later came up to playfully poke his cheek. “What a cutie. But I don’t want you to freeze to death, not exactly the date that I was plan—” You stepped on something and you peeped down. You cried out for the exact article of clothing you just wasted ten minutes searching for peeked out from under your bed. “Oh, found it!” You gasped, lifting the jacket, hugging it as if you’d just found your long-lost child after sixteen years. You slipped your arm inside one sleeve, your other hand simultaneously tugging Miles’ while you prepared to leave your room.

“Shouldn’t we clean this up before we leave?” He gestured to your surroundings. You scanned the disorder, biting your lip as you deeply considered it, your skin itching because of the area identical to a wreckage.

You dismissed your discomfort with a whine, pulling his wrist again and dragging him through the mess and out of the room with you. “I can do that later, let’s go!”

You didn’t exactly know where you were going; so when you jumped off your apartment complex’s stairs and into the sidewalk, you turned around and stared at Miles like an expectant puppy willing to follow its owner to the end of the world. “Where to, captain?” You cheerily asked.

“You’re weirdly hyper today.” Miles pointed out, but not as a complaint— no, not at all. Your euphoria was responsible for his stretching smile and the electricity in his fingertips; it enhanced your beauty to a degree that it was blinding, a supergiant star whose radiance fondly enveloped the boy and heated up his entire body with its dripping gold. It was a heat wave he’d willingly succumb to— he’d float in your grace, suffocate with your allure, feel it all over as you happily linked your arms together, sending that spark running through his veins.

“I guess it’s just the rush you get on a Friday night, you know?” Yes, that was definitely it— it’s not like you took a power nap you woke up from twenty minutes ago, and consequently, had to inhumanly speed through your steps to get ready before Miles arrived; what are you talking about? But it also was almost impossible not to be as joyous when you’d missed Miles’ presence for an entire week. Yes, phone and video calls patched up that loneliness and longing, but it was just a bandaid for a larger wound— you didn’t know you could be so needy; a surprise, indeed, when you’d find yourself craving to jump through your cell phone’s screen and snuggle into the boy’s embrace. “I’m also really glad to see you, though.” You bashfully admitted.

“It was just a week.” He laughed, except that he’d missed your touch just as much, if not more. And you weren’t offended that he didn’t kiss your forehead and reveal he did as well, really, because you knew the truth by the way he walked so unnecessarily close to you in spite of the broad path.

You snuggled your head on his shoulder, sighing in bliss. “I don’t care, you still owe me a lot of cuddles. And I also don’t have no idea where you’re taking me— maybe you’re about to kill me, or something.” You said lowly, your eyes wide.

“It’s… kinda a desolate place, but I promise I didn’t pick it so I could kill you.” He giggled, bumping his shoulder into yours. You lifted your head and narrowed your eyes at him, scoffing.

“That’s exactly what a murderer would say.”

Gladly, your claims that Miles was planning to execute you in the middle of nowhere were nothing but an amusing belief; that surely would’ve been a lamentable twist, especially for you. However, you somewhat started to wish it had been your fate as you panted heavily and dropped on your knees on the muddy grass of the seemingly endless hill you and Miles were climbing. “I give up,” You breathed out, sprawling your limbs defeatedly. “I think I’m gonna go into cardiac arrest.”

Miles glanced back at you and rolled his eyes before resuming his strides. “God, your P.E grade is probably terrible.” You didn’t reply, though, and he didn’t hear any exaggerated struggling noises. He turned around, his gaze settling on your body which appeared dead resting in the same place you stopped. “C’mon, babe, we’re almost there!”

You didn’t budge, solely weakly waving your hand at him. “I was nice knowing you, but I think this is where I meet my demise.”

He looked heavenward, taking a deep breathe to recharge his soul. You were damning the gloomy clouds for obscuring the glimmering stars when Miles’ face, staring down at you, popped into your sight. You smiled, your hand reaching up to try and touch his cheek as you cracked up. “Hi.” You said innocently with a childlike expression.

The corner of his mouth lifted upwards. “Hi. Get up.”

“It’s really comfy down here.”

“I bet, probably better than the hammock that’s up the hill.” He smirked when he attracted your attention.

“A hammock? You got a hammock up there?” You inquired in disbelief. His grin vanished, and his voice was high pitched as he dubiously shrugged.

“Kind… of? It’s not your usual hammock you’re probably thinking about.” He gently nudged you with his foot and you complained, turning to lie on your side. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

The words ‘piggyback ride’ excited you too much, almost to the point that it could be used as a weakness against you as you scrambled to your feet and moments later leapt onto Miles’ back. You were lucky your boyfriend had super strength, you thought, especially for instances where your laziness and lack of durability got the best of you while walking up the steepest of hills you’d ever witnessed. You’d endure your short workout again or climb every mountain, though, if it meant you’d get to curl up against Miles on a hammock made out of his webs; your body resting on top of his, your legs tangled like an unbreakable knot, your mind fuzzy from the loving circles the boy caressed on your scalp while your thumb rubbed his shoulder. It was the type of intimacy no other could compare to— just the two of you, immersed and drenched with the eternal adoration you shared. The security and serenity of his embrace overwhelmed you enough that at any time the breeze would slightly swing the crib, you’d flinch, similar to when you jerk awake after almost dozing off. His chest vibrated with his giggles and you gazed up at him. The boy had been boring into you for the past few minutes; it wasn’t necessary to see it, you could just feel it (how could you not, after all, considering your close bodies?).

“This hammock kinda sucks.” You breathed out, feeling his arms squeeze your waist when the hammock wiggled harder.

“How can you say that?! It’s literally made out of webs.”

“Miles, it’s so small— I feel like if I even breathe too much I’m going to fall off.”

“So ungrateful, man.” He grumbled, shaking his head with a half-smile that stretched wider after you left a tender kiss on his jaw.

“I just don’t want to break a bone, you get me?” You sighed in relief when the wind, your current nemesis, calmed down. “That would kinda suck.”

“It would be funny.”

You poked his stomach and he squeaked like a stuffed animal who had a tag that read ‘try me!’. He grabbed your wrist, pouting down at you. “Take that back or you’ll be the one with a broken bone.” You warned, but Miles returned the jab, and your body jerked away from him as much as it could.

“If I fall, just know that you’re going down with me.” He raised a playful eyebrow. You tried to prod him again, but the boy didn’t allow you to get your hand near him by slapping it, poking your rib immediately after. You let out a malicious laugh, for he had no idea what was coming to him as you went in to tickle him for real this time. It wasn’t as easy, though; Miles put up quite the fight, one arm shielding his stomach while the other pushed your evil hands away. “You’re… entering… a dangerous… zone right now—” His sentence was repeatedly interrupted as you two fought a battle which would only result in falling to your deaths. Although he could only protect himself for so long, because in the brief millisecond he remained unguarded, your fingers found themselves attacking his abdomen. You straddled his waist as he screamed with laughter and writhed underneath you, kicking his feet all over the place.

“Y/N—“ He yelped, his eyes crinkled and glossy. “P-please!”

You stopped— you were no ruthless demon who tortured people with tickles; still, your shoulders bounced up and down at the sight of his wide eyes as he attempted to catch his breath and regain his strength. “I won!” You laughed, squishing his cheeks to taunt him, leaning down closer to his face with a smug smile. “Sorry.”

“I’ll only forgive you if you give me a kiss.” The seduction and cheekiness laced in both his voice and eyes were a good try, but it simply made you snicker more at how goofy the boy appeared. It did work in some way, though, because it fueled the desire to meet his lips further. Who were you to not comply to such yearning, anyway? Miles took ahold of your hands, intertwining your fingers, leaning up to catch your expecting mouth. You rested your hand on his chest to deepen the kiss, the swaying of the hammock a long-forgotten worry as all you could care about was the boy under you, his dainty and nervous fingertips lingering on your hip, the prickling that engulfed you when you felt his hammering heartbeat under your touch. He’d captivated you entirely, beckoning you to dive into a pool of his warmth that clouded all your senses; enough that you didn’t perceive his hands sneaking up your sides until—

You squealed into his mouth, a jolt running through your gut when he began to tickle you. You pulled away from the kiss and struggled to breathe as a fit of giggles left you, feebly pushing him away. In an attempt to move away, though, you leaned too much to your right— oh, shit was all you thought as you lost your balance. A short cry was the only sound you made as you began to plummet down to the grass. Your last moments were nice, you guessed; at least you got to make out with Miles for a while before dying, so perhaps you could accept your death peacefully. But you didn’t hit the ground. You breathed heavily and opened your eyes, the world upside down until you strained your neck to look up at the sky; you hung by your foot, which had entangled itself with the white string of the hammock, and your eyes drifted to Miles’ gigantic eyes.

“Holy shit!” You shouted, your body going limp when it became too tiring to continue staring up. “Holy shit! I almost fucking died!”

“Are you okay?!” Miles questioned, panicked. You heard a thump and soon your boyfriend stood in front of you, his hands on his head. When he saw you helplessly flailing your arms, however, he doubled over with laughter, slapping his knee.

“Miles! Please help me!”

“Okay, okay— uh, do you have like a knife, or something?”

“Why the hell would I have a knife?!”

“I-I don’t know! Self-defense, maybe. Let me see—” He dug through his pockets, and your (already red) face went pale when he took out his keys, flashing you a sympathetic tight-lipped smile.

It was going to be a long night.