— trust who?
pairing: e-42!miles x 1610!fem!reader
contains: angst, mentions of death, yandere?miles
summary: you were taken from him a year ago, and now it seems the universe has given him a chance to do things differently— and this time, he’s not letting you go. no matter what. wc: 1,648
a/n: i got a lil carried away w this one won’t lie, lol. i love this song, and i put a little twist on it to match the plot. song lyrics are in small, bold italics
🎧: Not You Too - drake (ft. chris brown)
“trust- trust who? trust me and i can set you free. left your man came straight to me you the real mvp, my love.“
dimmed hues of red lights spotted your vision as you came to, eyelids heavy as they peeled apart to reveal the room you assumed would be the setting of your demise. your head snapped up when you finally regained consciousness completely, fright-riddled eyes darting around to scout out an escape plan. but just as you went to move, you heard chains clink from above as your body swayed, and realized you couldn’t. you looked down to find your legs bound by rope, as well as your hands, as well as the rest of your body to a firm, stuffed sack.
feet dangling from the ground, you let your head fall back against the punching bag, defeated, and settled for your only remaining option. “help!” you yelled, voice rasped and weak. “help!” you tried again.
“don’t bother, can’t hear a thing down here.”
an artificial, robotic voice sounded from above, warranting your eyes to meet a masked man who resided on a high beam, crouched in place, watching you. how long had he been there?
he jumped down, catching himself and effortlessly hanging from one arm before his sneakers met the steel floor. they were untied, you noticed.
fear permeated your entire being as he strolled over to you, a semblance of uneasiness coursing through your veins, pumping into your blood and rendering your spine straight as the ominous figure stopped just in front of you.
“ple—please, i don’t know why i’m here,” the words tumbled out in a broken heap of suffocated, stifled sobs as tears welled in your eyes.
“shh, it’s okay,” he shushed you, a hand reaching out to gently pinch your chin, lifting your head back up after it’d fallen. his touch was delicate, like he was scared he’d break you.
“i’m not gonna hurt you, mi vida. i’d never hurt you… you know that.” the voice distorter cut out, your breath catching in your throat and your eyes fluttering over every inch of this strange mask. it reminded you of a ventilation mask you’d seen in miles’ room once, a mask used to protect your lungs from the fumes of spray paint.
as if your mind were working against you, you found yourself… calmer than you were just a few seconds ago, and even more confused. why did the voice sound so familiar?
something wasn’t right.
“who— who are you?” you gulped.
“you don’t remember me?” the shield over his face pulled back, the quiet sound of mechanical whirring as it revealed his face drowned out by the heavy thrumming of your heart in your ear drums.
here stood your boyfriend in front of you, the same features, but… different. his entire demeanor had shifted since you had last seen him just prior to whatever time it was now, to something sinister. his hair was longer, pulled back and braided. an accent, almost resemblant of his mother’s lingered on the tip of his tongue, dripping within the words he spoke. his face was harder, etched and carved like the weight of the world had chipped at it piece by piece, only to settle on his shoulders, leaving him with no time for himself.
this couldn’t be right.
“miles?” you choked out, mouth gaping to find your voice. “w-why… what am I—you’re, you… but different? what is this? where am i?”
a puff of air shot through his nostrils, his best effort at a laugh as a small, smile lifted the corner of his lips, braids gliding over his shoulders when his head tilted to the side.
“you came back to me, mi amor. and god…you’re even more beautiful than i remembered.” he breathed, eyes flickering with sorrow for just a moment as they studied your face, a moment that was almost too brief for you to catch.
when he’d encountered you and his counterpart on the roof with his uncle, he swore his prayers had been answered. somehow, someway you’d been brought back to him— the pain of witnessing the bullet that pierced through your chest that fateful night just a year ago drifted from his mind, and replaced itself with the all consuming, peaceful, sleeping image of you the minute he’d picked you up and cradled you in his arms. it pained him to inject you with the needle to sedate you, but he had no other choice, he could never truly hurt you. no, he would never do that.
“i missed you so much.”
“first time in a long time hurtin' deeply inside”
the hand sporting his mechanical gauntlet lifted towards you, fingers bending so the claws wouldn’t scrape your skin as he let the cold metal brush against the swell of your cheek. the sound of the steel joints ticking made you flinch, chest stuttering for breaths you couldn’t keep within your overworked lungs as you turned away from him.
you looked at him with so much fear in your eyes, when all he’s ever wanted to do was keep you safe, to protect you, to make you feel comforted and secure. and he failed at that before, he knows that, but he’s ready this time. he’d been given a second chance, and he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers again.
“it’s me, hermosa… it’s okay, you know me. just trust me, and i can set you free, and then we can be together. just like old times.” his brows furrowed, his tone one of sincerity as he assured you, but it did nothing for your racing heart.
“trust—“ you sputtered, voice wavering when you spoke. “trust who? you? how can i when you have me tied up like this?!” you balked, your bewilderment such a stark contrast from his bleak, seemingly unmoving disposition.
“yeah… i’m real sorry ‘bout that. uncle aaron made me, so i tried not to make ‘em too tight. you know something like this would never, ever be my idea.”
you shook your head, was this some kind of sick joke? why wasn’t he understanding a single word that was coming from your mouth?
you grew frustrated, time was not on your side, and honestly you were getting tired of this game.
“i don’t know anything about you, i don’t even know who you are. you might have his face, and—and his body,” you looked him up and down. “but you… you are not my miles.”
he felt a pang in his chest, the words you uttered, the way you said ‘my miles’, as if he wasn’t right here, as if he wasn’t right in front of you. the version of himself he’d buried in the ground with you just last year wanted to jump out and yell at you, plead with you, anything to make you see he could be just like your miles, because he was your miles.
“oh,” he pulled the skin of his cheek between his teeth as he turned away with an agitated nod, extending his arm out to point towards your miles, who was still unconscious, chin dropped to his chest as he hung from another punching bag.
“him?” his voice raised in volume and broke apart with desperation, a humorless chuckle unintentionally escaping his trembling lips. “what’s the difference? huh? tell me.” he demanded, nostrils flaring as he tried to maintain his composure, staring deep into the eyes of the girl who would’ve burned the whole world down with him if he asked. the girl who was in his grasp, right in this moment, yet still so far from his reach— reserved for the one who had everything that belonged to him.
your head whipped to where he pointed, and the moment your eyes landed on your boyfriend your blood ran cold, a pained gasp rippling your chest. “miles! oh god, please!” you called out for him as you struggled against your restraints, his counterpart interrupting you by blocking your line of your view with his body.
“cálmate,” he hummed, “he’s fine, just unconscious. i’m not cruel. is that how you remember me, mamí?” he questioned, voice bleeding with hurt.
your gaze drifted over to your miles again, hope swelling within you when you heard him groan.
“no, no, princesa. don’t look at him, look at me.” he urged.
he didn’t understand. you always used to say you would love him in every universe, that you’d find him in every lifetime, what happened to that?
“please, we need to get home, if we don’t… he won’t be able to save his father, he—he’ll die. you have to understand.” you pleaded, the tears finally bubbling over your waterline, streamlining down your cheeks.
“you are home! it’s me, mi amor, i’m right here. what about everything we went through?” he asked tenderly, voice full of hurt and eyes still soaking in the slight difference in your features. he was too distracted by the fact that the girl he thought he’d never see again, was right here in front of him to even try and comprehend what you were trying to say. “please, don’t cry. you know i hate seeing you cry.”
nothing else seemed to be working, so you settled for empathizing with him. he was still miles, after all, different universe or not, he was still the same person deep down. and from the way he was looking at you, love flowing from the eyes that held so much anguish within them, you knew some version of you had loved him, too. in the same way you loved your own.
“look, i’m sure i-“ you stopped to correct yourself, “she, loved you, but i’m not her. i’m not from here, and i’m sorry she’s gone, and i’m sorry you have to live with this pain, but, please… you have to let me go.” your tone was forbearing, words teetering off into a hushed plea, your lingering apprehension threatening to tear through the seam of your heartfelt spiel.
“let you go?”
you nodded tentatively.
he moved closer to you, to unbound you from this elevated prison, you assumed. because maybe, just maybe you’d managed to get through to him.
but this wasn’t your universe, and this… this was not your miles.
for the first time in your entirety of knowing miles morales, you felt your heart stop— and not in the way that brought a flurry of warmed, passioned butterflies to flutter within you— but in a way that invited his words to settle like ice in your bones, allowed panic and dread to inhabit your senses, clutching you in a selfish grasp of resentment that had no intentions of letting you go— you realized, as this time, his gloveless hand swiped away yet another tear you hadn’t even noticed you’d shed.
“why would i do that?”
“I've given you enough time. hurtin' deeply inside.“
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