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#miles morales angst
luvjunie · 11 months
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— trust who?
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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)
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“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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- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗
©luvjunie 2023
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crackedpumpkin · 11 months
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ɪɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ
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Warnings: Mild spoilers for Across The Spiderverse, one (1) curse word, angst, unrequited love.
word count: 1, 545
[ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]
In every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman.
“Right,” You snort, closing the comic book in your hands and placing it back into the pile on Miles’s bed. He glances up from the comic he’s reading, raising a brow at your sceptical expression. 
“What?” He hums in amusement, casually grabbing a candy bar from his pocket and tossing it to you. It almost slips from your fingers, but you manage to catch it just in time with a playful eye roll.
“What’s so bad about Gwen Stacy ending up with Spiderman, anyway?” 
“It’s just,” you hesitate. Would he think it’s stupid? “It’s unrealistic. I mean, it’s nice that Spiderman has a predestined love, but it doesn’t mean that it has to go by the book, y’know? It’s his life. Maybe there’s a really rude and narcissistic Gwen out there in another universe.”
“W-well, what if there isn’t? I’m pretty sure that there are good Gwens out there.” You look at him curiously, wondering what’s got him so defensive. 
“What’s got your undies in a twist?” You chuckle at his earlier words, the tautness in his voice a surprise. Leaning back against the wall next to his bed, you kick your feet up to rest next to his arm, watching him frown and shove you off playfully.
“It’s nothing.” He tries to laugh it off, but the hint of nervousness in his eyes suggests otherwise. You narrow your eyes at him, watching him rub the back of his neck as beads of sweat form on his hand. 
He’s lying. Why?
“Okay,” You choose to say instead, letting him be as you turn away. Your heartstrings tug slightly at the wistful look in his eyes when he stares at the front cover of the comic you were reading earlier, the illustration of Gwen Stacy clear as day.
You know he’s hiding something from you, something big. Ever since last month, he’d been cancelling hangouts and study sessions, and he’s always coming up with new excuses to avoid hanging out with you. During the few times you get to meet him, Miles always has a hint of nostalgia in his words, a glint of longing in his eyes as if he’d rather be with other people.
It hurts. 
And it hurts even more when you planned to confess to him last week on the rooftop, only for him to show up hours late. He called you in a panic, apologies spilling past his lips before you promised you weren’t mad. 
On the other end of the phone, however, you throw away the letter you’d so painstakingly written for him, just for that day. All the words prepared were useless, fading into the corner of your mind when you heard his voice on the phone. 
“It’s fine,” You promised him countless times, hearing nothing but hesitance in his words when he checked to make sure it really was fine. Since then, you decided to squash down your confession, constantly procrastinating the day you tell him how you really feel.
“What about tomorrow’s bio test? You studied?” You ask, turning your head to see him freeze at the mention of the test he most definitely hasn’t studied for. He smiles sheepishly, silently pleading for you to share your notes with him. 
“You and me against the world, right?” He grins, holding out his hand for a fist bump as he sits on his bed from his lazy position. 
“Right,” You chuckle, grabbing the binder and notebook from your bag and handing it to him. You watch him flip through the pages fondly, eyes tracing the outline of his face and your gaze lingering on his lips.
You and him against the world.
It's always been you two for as long as you can remember. From the day you met in kindergarten to now, even as he stands in front of you in his Spiderman suit. 
You let out a disbelieving laugh, sitting down on your bed. Shocked doesn't even begin to describe how you're feeling right now. You come home from school and decide to drop by Miles’s apartment, waiting in his room with your feet propped onto his desk, only to see motherfucking Spiderman crawl into the room and pull off his mask to reveal your childhood friend (and the boy you’re in love with).
Miles had been keeping such a huge secret from you this whole time. You're ready to punch him - to scold him even, for not telling you earlier. He’s your best friend, but apparently, he doesn't feel the same way if he’s been hiding this from you. Aren’t you trustworthy enough? 
Aren’t you good enough?
His eyes are wide and filled with pure fear, hands trembling as he hugs himself, bracing his emotions for when you finally get mad. Your breaths are shaky, eyes flitting between him and the mask he holds in his hands. Flickers of anger begin to sink in, the claws of self-doubt sinking into your chest.
But a moment of clarity hits you. Miles didn't need a reaction right now. He needs you. He needs his best friend.
"Okay. Okay," You repeat through a slow exhale, looking up at him with a nod of acceptance. You simply gesture for him to sit down next to you. He does so without a word, automatically leaning his head on your shoulder like he always does when he's nervous and scared.
"You're not mad?" He asks softly. You shake your head, bringing his hand up to plant a soft kiss on his knuckles, ignoring the slight flutter in your chest as your lips graze against the skin.
To him, the action meant little, a comforting gesture used between you both since you were kids.
But to you, it means everything else. You try to push down the way your heart speeds up when his breaths brush against the exposed skin of your shoulders, hoping he won’t look up and see your gaze filled with pure love and concern for him.
Instead, you stare straight ahead at the window that overlooks the next few apartment buildings. The sunset is beautiful, auburn orange bathing the graffiti-covered concrete in a warm glow that has you wishing this isn’t the situation you’re in now. He tucks his head under yours, and your cheek presses against his hair, watching the sunset together. 
"I'm not mad," You promise in a soft sigh, feeling him finally relax under you. He mumbles out thanks, and you merely grin, pressing another casual peck on his hand, the both of you falling silent after.
And for once in the five years that you've grown to love him more than he'd ever know, this time, you're not lying. 
— — — — — 
It's the day of the celebration, a joyous occasion meant to act as a hallmark for Mr Morales’s promotion.
But Miles is nowhere to be found. After returning from god knows where he disappeared, he returns with a girl.
Gwanda is her name. You stare at the blonde hair, the strawberry-coloured tips catching your eyes. The colour looks pretty on her. Her nervous disposition only makes you slightly suspicious, watching her leave from a short distance away after Mrs Morales approaches them.
But judging from the look in Miles's eyes after his mom talks to him, you know.
The way he looks at her is different. He's never had such fondness in his gaze with you, much less watching you walk away with such regret. So you walk to him and hand him your drink which he takes a sip from, and pat his shoulder with a reassuring smile.
"Go." 
"You sure?"
"I'll be fine here. Besides, I’m sure I can handle a few hours of distracting your dad." You chuckle with a roll of your eyes, pushing down the pained pang in your heart at his bright smile. Every fibre of your being screams at you to grab onto his arm, to never let go. They scream at you to part your lips and let the words festering in your heart finally spill out.
But even as your eyes linger on him with a hollow grin, he doesn’t notice.
And that’s the difference.
"Thanks. Hey, you and me against the world, right?" Miles grins, placing a soft peck on your forehead. You bat him away with a faint smile, struggling to keep the tears from forming in your eyes. If he didn’t leave in the next ten seconds, you’re not sure you can no longer hold back your choked hiccups.
"Just come back to me, okay?" 
He nods, a silent promise lingering in the air between you both. To him, it's a promise of return, to come back safe.
To you, it's a promise filled with desperation, wanting nothing more than for your Miles to come back to you. For your Miles to see you in the same light he views Gwanda in. To see you the way he sees her. 
Maybe he was right all along. Maybe in every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman.
You watch him leave with an excited grin on his lips, taking a sip from your cup and wishing that the fizzy liquid could drown your sorrows instead.
And in every other universe, you wish it were you.
5K notes · View notes
parkerflix · 11 months
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—cielo en la mente
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miles morales x gn!reader
genre: fluff, angst
wc: 4.5k
synopsis: miles morales had you seeing double. but what if it wasn’t your eyes playing tricks?
warnings: atsv spoilers! canon divergence
taglist: CLOSED as of 6/19!
part of my 1k celebration! & part two to this fic!
You had been ignoring Miles lately. It wasn’t that you wanted to see him, but you were confused. Nothing seemed to make sense, or add up.
You sighed, sweeping up the last of the hair on the ground. You mom had already packed up and gone home, telling you to finish the last of the cleaning while she got dinner ready. You went over to the wash bowls, rinsing the hair brushes from the barbicide.
The front door had been locked, and music was playing from the speakers. A bang came from the front door, and you turned around to see Miles standing there.
His hair was out of braids again, and he seemed to be wearing the baggiest jeans and sweater you’d ever seen. He waved at you awkwardly, and you walked over, standing in front of the lock. His eyes were pleading with you to open the door, and you sighed, knowing you wouldn’t be able to leave him outside.
You unlocked the door & opened it so he could come inside. The silence between the two of you was awkward, but neither one of you knew what to say.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
You fiddled with the keys, and went to lock the door, stopping when he asked you a question.
“Could you do my hair? Please?”
It was such a simple question, but it still caught you off guard. Miles normally never asked you to do his hair, he’d just show up during regular hours or text you in the middle of the night and you’d do his hair in your room.
You steeled yourself, and nodded.
“Yeah. Follow me.”
Miles quietly followed you to the washbowls, and sat down at a clean one.
“Do you want me to use a different shampoo & conditioner?”
He was quiet for a moment,
“Can you use the ones you like the most?”
You hummed in agreement and pulled the mint scented shampoo and conditioner. You eyed the deep conditioning treatment, and grabbed that off the shelf.
Returning back to Miles, you leaned his head back into the wash bowl before starting the water.
“Let me know if it’s too hot or cold, okay?”
“Ah!”
You quickly turned off the water and panicked before you heard Miles let out a laugh.
“I was joking. The water is fine.”
You started up the water again and flicked some towards his face.
“Ack!”
“That’s what you get for scaring me like that!”
You both laughed, and soon it turned into a comfortable silence. Grabbing the shampoo, you made sure to lather his hair & rise it out. Miles was secretly a cry baby when he got shampoo in his eyes, so you covered his eyes with your hand.
Grabbing the deep conditioning treatment, you placed it in his hair, making sure to really get his roots. His hair had definitely seen better days, and you were confused how it got to this state when you were the last one to do his hair.
You finished with the deep conditioning treatment and went on with the regular conditioner, the minty scent hitting your nose as the cap opened.
“Smells good.”
Miles had been quiet up until now, and you genuinely thought he had fallen asleep.
“Yeah. Mint.”
He hummed.
“I like it, it seems to be very you.”
You felt your cheeks heat up at the comment, and nodded, knowing he couldn’t see you nodding.
You rinsed the last of the conditioner out of his hair, and wrapped it in a towel, tapping his shoulder to let him know you were done.
He opened his eyes and stretched out, reminding you of a cat.
“That was nice. You should do this as a profession, I think it would suit you.”
You rolled your eyes.
“Har har. You act like I haven’t been doing your hair and the neighbor’s hair since I could walk.”
Miles gave you a small smile and walked over to your station.
You got your tray ready with all your supplies, not noticing Miles was watching you.
You were different from Miles. He wasn’t sure if you existed in his universe, but he hoped that there was a version of you, hopefully near him. He had seen how you treated him, so gentle but had an edge with your words. He wondered what his counterpart in this universe meant to you.
“You know,” he started, catching your attention when he paused.
“You’re pretty special. You have a cool heart.” Miles inwardly cringed at that, wondering what the hell a cool heart could be.
“Mmm. Thanks.”
“Also, thanks for doing my hair.”
You nodded, ignoring the way something in your stomach flipped.
Miles was never one to outwardly express his gratitude, he was always the type to just show his gratitude and appreciation in smaller ways. He was more reserved with his words in that sense, and this change was different to you.
The rest of time you were doing his hair was relatively quiet, Miles asking you small questions here and there. You enjoyed the atmosphere, happy that you got to spend some quiet time with him.
You finally finished the braids after a little while, showing him the end result. It was the same style that you had done before, but you just thought he looked good in them.
Miles got up from the chair, and got closer to the mirror to inspect them.
He looked at himself in the mirror, unable to shake off a feeling of happiness that swam through him. His hair had never really been in braids before, it was something that he just assumed didn’t suit him, but here he was. He could tell that you put so much effort and love into them, it made his heart swell with joy.
He turned to you, and engulfed you in a hug. He wasn’t one to be affectionate with people he just met, but there was something about you that drew him in, and made him comfortable.
You froze for a second, before hugging him back, ignoring the nudging questions at the back of your mind.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
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You had asked Miles that day if he wanted to come over for dinner, but had declined and said he had a few things to do. You understood, but felt a little sad that he wasn’t going to come over.
The rest of the night had gone by pretty unceremoniously, giving you time to think about Miles and his weird behavior.
You sighed and texted him, seeing if he was willing to meet you for breakfast in the morning at your spot. He quickly responded with a yes, and a small pit of anxiety formed in your stomach, nervous for the morning.
The next morning your alarm went off and you groaned, not wanting to get up. Turning your alarm off, you closed your eyes for a moment, before remembering you were meeting Miles for breakfast.
Swearing under your breath, you quickly got up and threw on a sweater and jeans, not even bothering to worry about anything else.
Your mom seemed to still be asleep, so you slipped out of the front door, quickly switching your slippers for shoes at the door.
Your spot wasn’t far from either of your houses, and the walk was always nice in the mornings.
Yosi’s diner was the place that you’d been going to even since you were little kids, back when there were 5 of you coming. Even after your parents stopped coming, you and Miles made it a tradition to only have breakfast there. It held memories of you guys sharing good news, and bad.
Miles had seen you cry because a date had stood you up the night before, and you had been his support when his dad passed. Yosi’s diner meant everything to you both.
You finally made your way to the entrance, the flickering sign feeling like a signal that you were home. Opening the door, the soft tinkling of the bell along with the smell of pie placed a smile on your face.
Yosi was standing behind the counter, telling one of the servers some instructions. She was slightly older than you & Miles, with an aura that made everyone comfortable around her. Her parents had opened the diner, naming it after her when they found the place, hoping for her to inherit it.
She glanced at you and smiled. Shooing away the server, she rounded the corner of the counter and came to give you a hug.
“It’s so good to see you! Donde estabas escondida? It feels like I haven’t seen you in so long.”
You chuckled, embracing her.
“I’m sorry. El salón está tan ocupado, toda la gente quiere su pelo arreglado. I’m sure quiñce season is right around the corner.”
She laughed a parted from you, turning her head to the booth at the end of the right side of the diner.
“He’s been waiting for you.”
You hummed.
“He’s in a mood, good luck.” She walked away after that, going back into the kitchen.
You took a deep breath and walked over to the booth. Miles had been watching you since you walked in, eyes never leaving you until you sat down.
“You’re late.”
You rolled your eyes.
“We never agreed on a time.”
“We always meet at the same time.”
Before he could respond, food came to your table, your usual and his usual.
He always got the same chocolate chip pancakes with some whipped cream and a few cherries on them. He never mentioned it, but you knew he got it because his dad used to get them and share with him. You assumed it helped him feel closer to his dad, and understood it was his way.
Both of you tucked into your food, not saying anything until he broke the ice.
“So, que quieres?”
“Damn, what’s with the attitude?”
“There’s no attitude here mamí, just asking a question.” He said, taking a big bite of his pancakes.
You dropped your cutlery, glaring at him.
“Seriously, qué te pasa? What the hell did I do to deserve this weird ass mood?”
Miles didn’t want to say what he was thinking, but he was jealous. He hadn’t seen you in forever, and he had passed by the salon the night before, seeing you doing someone else’s hair when you were closed. He could tell that you seemed comfortable with whoever the guy was, your smile the same you normally only gave him. He hated feeling this way, especially because you weren’t huge on jealousy. Previous partners of yours always were jealous of Miles, and you’d go to him and tell him how annoying it was, not knowing they had reason to feel jealous. He knew you better than anyone, and he wasn’t shy to show it.
“Nothing.”
You raised a brow, not buying his words.
He glanced up at you, seeing your eyes already trained on his face.
“What?”
“Seriously, what’s with you?”
“Nothing, mamí. How was your night last night?” He had hoped that switching up the topic would divert your attention.
“Well, mi mama hizo pupusas, she left some for you. She missed you at dinner, you know.”
“I miss your mom too. Tell her I’ll try to come over one of these days for dinner. Did you miss me at dinner?”
Your face heated up slightly, and you cleared your throat.
“I-no.”
Miles’ face had a huge grin on it, and you knew you were in trouble for it.
“Oh so you did miss me? Mamí, if you miss me that much, you always know where my house is, we could remedy that.” He winked at you, making you roll your eyes.
“First of all, you know I hate when you call me mamí. Makes me feel like those groupies Jaime has. Secondly, you wish I missed you. I haven’t climbed up your window since you decided you'd rather spend everyday with me, papi.”
He laughed at that, he knew you knew he hated being called papi by anyone but his mom. Somehow, whatever tension that had grown between you two had dispersed and left you both pushing away any budding feelings. The rest of breakfast had gone without addressing it anymore, and Miles was thankful.
When it was time for the bill to come, Miles stopped you before you could even pull your card out. You thanked him, and he waved you off, not too worried about it.
“Well, thanks for breakfast.” You said, grabbing your things and getting ready to leave.
“Can I walk you home?”
You nodded and you both got out of the booth, waving bye to Yosi when you left the building.
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“So, what’s with the gentleman act?”
Miles clutched his chest like he was wounded and gave you the saddest look he could muster.
“Amor, cómo puedes decir eso? I’m always a gentleman.”
You pushed him slightly, making him burst out into a fit of laughter.
“The only time I’ve seen you be a gentleman was when you were dating that cute enby.”
“Which one?”
“The one with glasses??? God, I can’t remember their name but they really were like your polar opposite, I have no clue how you managed to date them.”
Miles thought about it, and nodded his head.
“Ah, I know who you’re talking about. They were cool. Liked science, and wanted to major in it. We still talk now and then.”
“Mírate, keeping friends who aren’t just me! Rio should be proud.”
“You’re annoying, you know that?”
“Yet you still hang out with me. Admit it, me amas.”
You were too busy looking around the neighborhood to notice Miles’ face get flustered, and he shrugged it off, knowing you didn’t have any hidden meaning behind it.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m stuck with you.”
You glanced at him and smiled, before realizing you guys had already made it to your apartment building.
“Well, this is me. Te veo mañana?”
He nodded and you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before walking into your building.
Once you had disappeared into the building, Miles groaned and ran his hand down his face. His feelings for you were going to be the death of him.
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The next day you regrettably had school.
Both you and Miles went to different schools, him getting into Visions and you going to the local highschool.
You slipped into your uniform, never quite getting used to how annoying the polo shirt looked on you. Fixing your hair a bit, you ran to grab your shoes from the doorway before Miles showed up.
Your mom was sitting at the dining room table, sipping a cup of coffee watching you frantically grab all of your stuff for the day.
“Llevaste comida?”
You grabbed an apple from the counter & a couple bucks off your piggy bank in your room.
“Yeah, totally.”
“Don’t be lying to me. No puedes ir sin comer, te vas a enfermar.”
“I’m not! I’ll see you when I come home?”
She nodded and you gave her a peck on the cheek, running over to your window and making your way down the fire escape.
Miles was already waiting for you, a shit eating grin on his face.
“Don’t-”
“Two days in a row, I’m starting to think you’re hiding a boyfriend up there.”
“Oh shut up.”
The walk to your school was fairly the same except today he bought you a breakfast sandwich. You gave him a questioning look, and he just ignored it.
Making it to your school first, you both stopped at the entrance, shuffling to the side to not block the doors.
“So, any big plans for today at school?”
Miles shook his head.
“Nah, there’s a bunch of lectures and maybe a lab or two. The school’s not that much different than yours.”
“Mmmm, well. Don’t forget to make friends!”
Before he could respond, someone behind you called your name and wiggled their brows.
“Nice boyfriend! Maybe that’s where you sneak off to all the time!”
You flipped them off & took a deep breath, turning back to Miles.
“Maybe you should be worried about making friends.”
“Nah, they just know you and I are close.”
“What’s that about though?”
“What?”
“You sneaking off?” Miles tried to hide the jealousy that was creeping into his voice.
“Oh that.” You scratched your neck and gave him a bashful smile.
“Everyone thinks I’m seeing someone but I go out and grab lunch nearby and then come back. We’re technically not supposed to leave campus so…”
Miles laughed and you felt some pride in your chest.
“That does make more sense.”
You both idly chatted for a little longer before the first bell rang, and you knew he had to go.
“I’ll see you after school?” You said, hopefully.
Miles shook his head and gave you a sad smile.
“Sorry amor, I gotta help my mom and my uncle with some stuff at home.”
You nodded, understanding.
He ruffled your hair and you swatted his hand away, annoyed.
“I’ll see you around then!”
He saw you walk into his school and checked his phone, seeing he was late for school. He didn’t really care though, knowing he would rather spend time with you than be on time.
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On your way home from school, you decided to stop in at a bookstore.
You were strolling the aisles, trying to find something that you were interested in. You had found a book, and someone accidentally knocked into you.
“Sorry!”
You turned around and saw Miles there, in a completely different outfit from when you saw him leave for school.
“Oh hey! I thought you were helping your mom with something at home?”
Miles scratched his neck awkwardly and nodded.
“Yeah, turns out she didn’t really need my help.”
“Oh did Aaron have it under control?”
“Yes!” He coughed and glanced around the store.
“Yeah, she had him helping so there wasn’t that much for me to do.”
“So you decided to come to a bookstore?”
“Yes?”
You hummed and turned around again, looking for the book again.
You could tell that Miles was still hovering behind you, hearing the shuffling of his Jordan’s.
“Miles,qué quieres?”
“Uhh… I was wondering if that book was good? I’ve been trying to find something new to read that isn’t an action type of book.”
You whipped around, stumbling into him not realizing how close he had been behind you.
“Are you asking me for a book recommendation? Because if so, we should do a book swap!”
“Book swap?” He tilted his head and gave you a confused look.
“Yeah! We can find books from our favorite genres for each other! I know they have a little cafe area and we can read them there!”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Great! Do you wanna meet up front in like 15 minutes?”
He nodded and you clapped and walked off to a different section of the store.
15 minutes later you both met up at the front, both with books in your hands.
Getting to the register, you plucked Miles’ book out of his hands and paid for both of them. He gave you a look and you just shrugged.
“Think of it as payment from breakfast yesterday.”
You thanked the cashier and both of you had made your way to the cafe.
Miles watched you order a drink, and declined your offer for anything. Both of you sat down at a couch, and you put the bag with the books in the middle.
Pulling out both, you handed him the one you picked out for him.
“Six of crows?”
“Yeah! It follows like a group of thieves and you get to see all the different perspectives, I really enjoy it.”
“Oh, sounds cool.”
You smiled and looked down at the book you held.
“Oh hey, Lord of the flies!”
“You’ve read it before?”
You shook your head, a small frown tugging at your lips.
“No, you and I used sparknotes to write my essay on it?”
Miles’ eyes widened.
“Right. Right.” He cleared his throat.
“Well, after that, I decided to read it and I think you’d enjoy it.”
You hummed and nodded, opening the book and beginning to read.
Miles opened his book as well, and was reading, until he felt your head on his lap. He looked down and you and you smiled, seemingly not thinking anything of it.
Miles on the other hand, his heart was racing and he was hoping you couldn’t hear it. He wasn’t uncomfortable per say, he just didn’t know if it was normal between you and his counterpart. You didn’t seem to notice his inner turmoil and were fixated on the book.
A little while had passed, and Miles had seemingly got more comfortable, mindlessly playing with a strand of your hair. You were halfway done with the book when your phone had gone off. You sat up, Miles’ hand dropping down to his side.
Picking up the phone, you saw your mother had texted you to come home, she needed you to run an errand for her.
Packing up your stuff, Miles stood up when you did.
“I gotta head home, my mom needs me to run a few errands for her.”
“Want me to help?”
You looked at him and smiled.
“Sure. I know mom would love to see you anyways.We can talk about the books on the way there.”
You both quickened your pace, and you grabbed Miles’ hand dragging him along with you.
Neither of you had realized the whole way to your house that you were still holding hands, fingers intertwined.
Miles had told you what he thought about the book so far, and he was interested in it. You explained some things he wasn’t sure about, and gave him some fun facts about the characters and the author.
In turn,he told you about the book he had recommended and about the movie that they had made based on the book. He hated the movie.
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Finally getting to your apartment building, you climbed up the stairs to your apartment, dropping his hand to look for your keys.
You opened the front door and the smells of cinnamon permeated your senses.
“Ya llegué! Traje a Miles también!”
You kicked off your shoes and Miles followed suit, staring at the photos on the walls. The walls were covered in pictures of you and your mother, of you and him, and your families together. He pulled his attention away, following you into the kitchen.
You gave your mother a hug from behind, kissing the top of her head. She let out a laugh and shook her head. She would always say you’re her favorite child (you were her only child).
“Dónde estabas? Necesito que lleves esto para mi.”
“Estábamos en la tienda, quería otro libro para leer.”
Your mother turned to Miles, giving him a big hug. He hugged her back awkwardly and you snickered at his eyes pleading for your help.
She parted from him and pointed to the fridge.
“Te dejé algunas pupusas, llévalos a tu mamá también.”
“Uh gracias, I’ll make sure to take them to her.”
Both you and your mom shared a glance and she shrugged, before walking over to hand you a package.
“Just this?”
“Yes, and then no getting sidetracked, you have to come home straight after. I trust you will be with them, right Miles?”
“Si!”
He didn’t miss the way you bit your lip, trying to hold in a laugh. You both bid your mother farewell, and went to deliver the package.
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The walk to the place was quiet, Miles had no clue where you were going. You cleared your throat, eyes still forward.
“What was that back there?”
“What was what?”
You stopped walking and Miles stopped a moment after, turning to look at you.
“That accent, Miles!”
“Huh?”
“My mom literally side eyed you, she was definitely confused as to why you were trying to pull a joke on her…”
“Oh, right.”
“I found it funny though, mainly because I do that to her all the time.”
“Right.”
Miles started walking again, and you followed behind him, grabbing his hand that was just swinging.
“Estás enojado conmigo?”
Miles stopped and looked down at your hands that were intertwined. He had a strange feeling in his stomach, he wasn’t sure if he could pinpoint it. He was trying to get home, to figure out how to even get back there, but he didn’t even know how long it had been. Time was relative and he wasn’t sure if he was too late.
He also didn’t know why he felt attached to you, a sense of comfort while being around you. He secretly hoped, that even at home, you would be there.
“I’m not mad.”
“Good. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”
He squeezed your hand, giving you a small smile.
“Nah. You’re good. Don’t worry about it.”
“Hm, okay. But let me know if I do okay?”
“Got it.”
The rest of the walk to the place was filled with you two talking about different things, laughter from the both of you, once again never letting go of the other’s hand.
Miles realized that the area you guys were going to seemed familiar. It was his uncle’s place. His hands started to get sweaty, and he was panicking. He had actively avoided his family, watching from afar.
You, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine. You hadn’t seen Aaron in a while, and you always wondered if he was doing okay. Miles always seemed on edge when you asked what he and Aaron did, which made you suspicious but you also knew he didn’t have to tell you everything.
You both made it to the hallway, and Miles squeezed your hand once more. You assumed it was an unconscious thing, but Miles did it to reassure himself.
“Why don’t I wait here for you?”
“Come on, I’m just gonna knock on the door and if he’s not there, we’ll leave it on his doorstep.”
He nodded and took a deep breath following you.
You knocked on the door, fully assuming no one would be home. Miles told you beforehand that he was helping Rio, so you just did it to reassure Miles. You weren’t sure if they had fought beforehand, but you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable.
You knocked once more, hearing a voice on the other end yell for someone else to open the door. You straightened yourself up, plastering a smile on your face. Miles rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb, taking another deep breath.
The door creaked open, and when you made eye contact with the person at the door, your heart fell to the floor. Miles Morales stood in front of you, still wearing his uniform, his smile slowly dropping as he looked at your hand, being intertwined with someone. He looked at the person, eyes growing wide and jaw clenched.
Miles next to you felt his heart stop for a second, unsure what to do. He was staring at himself, who if looks could kill, would have him 6 feet under.
You dropped your hand from Miles’, thoughts going a million miles a minute. The main thought though was:
What the hell is going on?
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taglist! @nameless-beanie @carmendanny2 @kukigirli @rayendrop @lovefks @anuncalledbridge @immortal-t @riki-gf @shuriri4life @starboychanyeol @sakura-onesan @the-smut-plug
if your name is in bold i was unable to tag you!
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angelltheninth · 10 months
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Feeling angsty so could you do Spiderverse characters with the “Don’t you ever do that again!” prompt? Could be either side saying it.
Angst! Everyone could use more am I right?
Pairing: Peter B. Parker, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Miguel O'Hara, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar x Reader
Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, worry, injury, superhero work, late night talks, fear of loss, soothing kisses, crying
A/N: We need to keep things nice and balanced between the fluff, smut and angst.
5. “Don’t you ever do that again!”
Peter doesn't take as many risks as he used to before you were married. He still gives it his all, of course he does, but he's not reckless when he fights. There does tend to be an ocassion where he will act like that still, come home with injuries, a bloody nose and such but he tries to keep those to a minimum to not worry you. He faces your wrath for those before, and he would rather fight a hundread more enemies then make you sad, angry and scared for him.
Miles already knows to be careful when doing hero work but he is also a bit of a show off. He makes it a habit to visit you after and one night he shows up in a pretty bad state, unable to go home. You call his parents and make up an excuse that he fell asleep during movie night, all the while he's groaning with an ice pack on his ribs. While laughing about a joke he made his ribs hurt even more so you have to kiss him to make him stop, and to comfort yourself. While his injuries will heal he needs to promise to be more careful, one Spider-man already died in this universe, and your boyfriend won't be next.
Gwen lost someone imortant because she wasn't paying enough attention. You bet she gets pissed off when she sees you jumping head first into danger. But she doesn't just yell, she starts crying while patching up your injuries because she can't handle the thought of losing you. It ends with you being the one who is holding her in your lap, kissing her cheeks with bruised lips telling her how she's your inspiration for doing what you do, you don't regret it and a few injuries, big or small, won't stop you from being her best partner.
Miguel downplays his own injuries but goes off when he sees you put yourself in danger. He's a big guy, he heals pretty fast too but you, fully human and so damn hardheaded. How can he not tell you to take it easy from time to time. You laying in bed with a fever from a venom that you took instead of him. Venom, something that's already in his blood, reckless as hell. Every kiss that he gives you is like the last, his hands fast as they check you for injuries but really gentle, like you'll break in his hands.
Hobie hums a song while you patch his injuries trying to soothe you, his fingers tapping on the bed, foot moving along with his hums. Not a single note back? Why are you so upset? His life isn't in danger or anything, he' ll be fine. Or you can kiss it better, that's an option. Anything, just cry okay? He's proud of the work he's doing, risks are part of it, but its worth it to make a better, safer world for the two of you, and everyone else of course.
Pavitr has a hard time keeping his groans of pain to himself but he doesn't wanna worry you any more then he already has. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his side, whispering that he's gonna be okay eventually. Until then he will take it easy so don't yell at him again, he knows he should have been more careful but at times his body moves on his own without thinking. Kinda like when he kisses you, only more painful.
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tvgals · 10 months
Text
‘ CHILL OUT ‘
— e42! miles morales x black! fem! reader
synopsis — you see miles walking around campus with a girl you’ve never seen before and it sparks a new issue .
cw ; cheating, fluff to angst, hurt/no comfort, black! reader, reader literally doesn’t deserve this shes so sweet, watched good girls during this so i think that’s where this came from, made up characters
— ENJOY !!
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you watch as your boyfriend walked into the cafeteria with a girl you’d never seen before. a mid-length honey blonde wig on her head and her nails done with french tips. you synch your eyebrows together in confusion and you turn to your friends. “who’s that with miles?” you ask, subtly pointing to her. “oh, girl! that’s the new girl, her name is jess or something, i dunno.” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “aight.” you say, shrugging your own shoulders and scrolling through instagram. miles and jess get closer to your table and that’s when you can hear their conversation.
“i love your braids! who did them?” jess asks, running the tip of her fingers over them. “awe, my girl did ‘em for me. there she go right there.” miles says, taking a seat next to you. ��y/n.” miles calls your name. you look up at him and smile. “hey miles. who’s this?” you ask, looking at her features. “jess. she’s new so i just showed her around a lil.” miles explains, pulling you into his frame. “ohhh…” you say, widening your eyes and nodding your head. “well, y’know, i really need help with the spanish homework, could you help me?” you ask coyly, batting you eyelashes up at him. “‘course, chica guap.” miles replies, bending down to kiss you.
“get a room!” you hear from one of your friends, taking a video to post on her story later. you giggle and miles opens up his phone. jess looks over and seems to perk up. “you got snap?” she asks, pulling her own phone out. “oh, yeah,” miles replies, “i don’t use it like that though. i don’t talk to people like that.” the bell rings and you and miles say your goodbyes and walk to spanish. “so,” you started. “so?” miles repeats, curiosity in his voice. “where’d you meet her at?” you ask, interlocking you and miles’ pinkie fingers while you two walk down the hallway. “she came up to me while i was walking into the school, asked me to give her a tour.” miles dismissed your question, now taking the lead in you twos walk to class. “oh.” you say, searching through the sides of your backpack with one hand trying to find your lipgloss. “what’re you looking for?” miles asks, opening the door so you can walk into your spanish class. “my lipgloss..i can’t find it..” you mumble, sitting yourself down and sitting your backpack on your desk.
“chill, mami. i can buy you some more.” miles soothes you, taking the desk next to you. you sigh and pull out your notebook and pencil. you watch the front of the room, bored while the teacher talks. within the first thirty minutes of class, miles had thrown six folded up notes to you and texted you over five times. you pull your phone out as discreetly as you could and scroll through the texts.
‘she found my snap bro’
‘swear ts annoying’
‘i ain’t even talk to her like that’
‘bro she’s texting my phone foe’
‘i’m finna block her ass’
‘respond 😒’
you look over at miles and roll your eyes playfully, texting back.
‘js block her?’
miles turns to you and gives you a straight face, looking down at his phone and ignoring the ping of the snapchat notifications. this is bothering you and you don’t know why. you and miles have been dating for over eight months now and you’ve never felt like this before. is it jealousy? maybe. you doubt it though. you leave it in the back of your head just for the bell to ring again, signaling the last class of the day. you pack your stuff up and wait on miles in the doorway. “she keep on texting my phone.” mines groans, shoving his phone in his pocket.
“maybe she got a lil crush.” you snicker, feeling miles playfully bump your shoulders together. “nah. don’t need no crushes, already got my girl.” miles grins, pulling you in for a hug then having to pull away almost immediately. “see you at my dorm?” you ask, walking slower than before. “yep.” and with that, you two parted your ways until 2:30. you and some of your friends meet in the hall and make your way to your classes. you were taking your time walking to class, until your friend brought up a topic. a sensitive one.
“y’know, it’s be funny if miles were cheating on you with that jess girl.” she laughed while everyone else went quiet. “what?” you ask, looking around confused. “it was a joke, damn. if you were in a loyal relationship you wouldn’t get so mad.” she clapped back almost immediately, as if she was waiting to say it for a while now. “what are you talking about? i am in a loyal relationship.” you argue, pulling your phone out to text miles. “little do you know.” she replies in a sarcastic tone. your purse your lips together and turn around, making your way to the bathrooms.
“you didn’t have to do allat.” another one of your friends said, sympathy laced in her voice like she was just confronted with her own boyfriend cheating. you made it to the bathroom and opened a stall, sitting on the toilet seat. you open your phone and text miles.
‘so that’s wtf we doing now?’
you sit and wait for a response, getting one almost immediately.
‘wym??’
‘i mean you cheating on me’
‘who told you ts?’
you sigh and start to feel tears well into your eyes. you loved him so so so much, you met his parents, you ate dinner at his house, you’ve spent the night, you’ve watched him cry, bleed — everything under the sun and this is how he repaid you.
‘you don’t need to know all that. we’re done bro. don’t come by my house, don’t call my phone, don’t call my momma phone, give me back my house keys, and delete my number.’
miles fucked up, and he knew it.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
taglist — @venusluvslove @traqstarlo @mangolog @ohmaiscool15 @ohsanghoe @iiilovemilfs @garnetj @guapaneeseb @nekoweb @samdwitch @cloudniteee @azadabts @elitesanjisimp @theyfwkayla14 @lennielane @kelesisworld @aaliyahlia-babyy @dorkmuffin27 @markleedreams @violxtbxbyy @pinkluvrr @yourrfavzxri @noraloralei @blackgirlontheblock
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zairene · 9 months
Text
more misc. earth 42! miles morales bf headcanons <3
genre: headcanons
a/n: i reallllyyy hate writer’s block. anyways ty guys in the delulus server for helping cure my writers block for this one!! ily guys mwah mwah <3!!
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miles has enormous baby fever. no matter how many times you would tell him you guys are both too young and very unfinancially stable, he couldn’t help himself. you both could be just chilling in his room and all of a sudden you would see his face soften and a super high pitched, “awwww…” come out of his mouth. from that one thing alone you already knew what he was about to show you. “y/n! look! isn’t she so cute?” you would shake your head and then he would go into this long rant on how he’d think you both make great parents. “can we at least finish highschool first, miles?” you said. he sighed dramatically and fell into your arms. “yeah, i know. ‘m just excited.” “trust me, i know.”
miles likes to stalk your socials. yes, in a weird way. everytime you post yourself on your feed, he’s always spamming the comments with how beautiful you are and how you’re his, or whenever you post yourself on your story and you get numerous story replies after you post yourself to your favorite song. but afterwards he’s scanning to see anybody else who says anything that’s not just complimenting you. he’s spotted a few guys call you “bae” or something in the comments and he’s always in the replies correcting them as quick as possible. or whenever you post the anonymous links on your story, and someone says that they have a crush on you but they’re scared to say so, or something like that, he’s quick to take your phone and post himself on your story saying how much you loved your boyfriend. that would stop these weirdos from hitting on you, at least that’s what he thinks.
miles’ mom actually loves you. from the first time you met her, she already knew that you were meant for miles when you called her mrs. morales instead of rio. miles’ friends had a habit of calling her that and she would be this close to smacking them across the forehead. they do profusely apologize after but the first impression would always leave a bad taste in her mouth. now, she asks miles to bring you over all the time and she even calls you her second daughter.
miles isn’t a ‘going outside of his house for every date kind of guy.’ he’s more of a wanting to just come to your house and chill in your room while y’all watch and rant about movies. his favorite date with you was when you listened to the new brent faiyaz album, wasteland, while he watched you braid your hair. of course you both go to the movies or the mall every now and then—but he just wanted to be alone with you with no one else around because that’s how it always feels to be with you.
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🏷️ TAGLIST :: @dojathascammer @pnkweb @planetlunaa @mypimpademia @megurulvr @dreampurpledreams @chinieh @naijagrl @looking4chanel @pixieplush17 @jogeto @laylasbunbunny @jamies-cumslut @sapphicshav @banqnaz @edgyficuselastica @padfootpottah99 @anikaluv @s-surreality @tourbug @fiannee @sakaur-i
TAGLIST FORM
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teatoptony · 7 months
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For All the Mary Janes
summary; 'in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well'. what about the mary janes, then?
or, in which you're the mary jane to miles's spider-man
pairing(s); e-1610! Miles Morales x reader, e-42! Miles Morales x reader
warning(s); i didn’t have any specific gender or race for r in mind while writing, but rio calls r ‘mija’ once and i think that’s ab it
maybe some incorrect usage of Spanish? Spanish speakers who can respond to my weird questions pls hmu
maybe ooc but it’s been in my drafts so long i just wanted to get it out tbh
implied/mentioned parental issues with reader, not proofread, written (mostly) at ao3 hours
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You and Miles were always joined at the hip. Your parents knew each other well, so your families were together a lot. Mr. and Mrs. Morales saw you like their own daughter, often joking that you and Miles would be engaged when you got older with the way he could never leave you alone.
At least, up till around two years ago.
You and Miles started to grow apart when you got into Visions Academy. He thought it was a stupid school full of stuck-up rich kids who only cared about making connections that would help them along further down the line. You thought it was a good school that had a good track record of producing students that had a lot of success in what they wanted to do.
Some things were said the day before your transfer.
Since then, the two of you rarely texted or called. Mrs. Morales would often come by for coffee with your mom, tell you about how her son was doing and gush over 'how much you've grown' from last Tuesday, but that was about the only way you knew the vague outline of what he was up to.
You'd admit you felt lonely for a while. After all, Miles had been your best friend ever since you could remember. But you also weren't going to go running to him after everything he'd said.
I mean, was it really that bad to want a good future?
Soon enough though, you felt like yourself again. You met new people, made new contacts, and actual friends. Because contrary to popular belief, the people there weren't all mini business men and heartless CEOs in the making. They were just kids, after all.
And then, Miles won the draw. Just a few weeks before the start of the new semester, your parents mentioned that he'd be going to your school from now on in passing.
You didn't think much of it at first. I mean, everyone has that one childhood friend that they fell apart with, right? For the first week or so, you didn't even see his face much. In fact, you didn't see him at all, not even a glimpse in the halls.
That was about to change drastically.
Short story shorter, you caught a glimpse of him walking on the side of the school with pigeons stuck to his hands. A month or two later, Spider-Man climbed through your dorm window, ripping off his mask and ranting about some villain of the week.
"I couldn't even catch the guy-"
"Miles?"
"...You're not Ganke."
The two of you made up that night. He apologized, admitting he was being unfair and was upset that you were leaving his school. It didn't exactly clear everything, but it was a start. The two of you caught each other up on everything they had missed. In the end, the sun was about to come up and the both of you realized you hadn't gotten a minute of sleep on a school night.
From then on, the two of you get closer again. He went to you for the occasional rant or patch up, and he actively sought you out in school now, relieved to see a familiar face in the halls. Gradually, you got close to the point you'd call him one of your best friends and vice versa after around a year of radio static.
Everything was great. He was cute, funny - in an awkward way, but hey, he made you laugh - he looked out for you, and when he talked to you he did this cute little thing where he would play with the strings of his hoodie which he somehow always managed to layer on with like two other jackets and—
Oh yeah, did we mention the crush you had on him?
Because there was one.
Big huge one, right here. Materialized out of thin air looks like.
Which should have been fine. You were perfectly capable of hiding a crush. I mean, come on, it's high school. You would've been eaten alive if you couldn't.
Normally, you would even be confident that you could make your crush like you back. I mean, why wouldn't he?
Two words. One person.
Gwen Stacy.
It was like he could never go even one conversation without mentioning her.
Slight exaggeration? Maybe. Maybe not.
"Oh yeah, that's cool! Y'know, Gwen told me one time that—"
"You got an A, I knew you could do it! I told you so. Did you know Gwen got A's in—"
"Oh hey, you got your hair cut! Reminds me of that time when me and Gwen—"
At first, it was bearable. Sure, she came up annoyingly often whenever you talked, but she had just left this dimension, never to be seen again. Of course he was gonna miss her.
You laughed at all his stories, listened to every one even though he told the same six or seven ones over and over again. You even grew to like Gwen, as if you'd known her for the short amount of time Miles did, too.
But then two months passed. Then six. Then a whole year. Before you knew it, a year and four months had passed since the departure of Gwen Stacy.
And he still. Wouldn't. Shut. Up.
You had tried to understand. You really did.
But you can only hear the same damn jokes so many times before you get a migraine.
Pick any story. You could list off every variation of how Miles would tell it off the top of your head.
Gwen Stacy became the daughter of one of your mom’s friends, so to speak. That one girl in the neighborhood you couldn’t help but envy.
And worst of all, it was like he wished you were her.
Whenever you did something, he would tell you how Gwen could do it better. He would ask you whether or not you thought Gwen would like certain trinkets he found around town, and kept a collection of them in one of his drawers so he could give them to her one day. He was even studying quantum physics instead of art so that he could make his own multiversal gateway - a safe one, so that he could unlock the multiverse, possibly for good.
It hurt when he zoned out while you were telling him about you, thinking about her; your day, what you wanted to study, how your parents were fighting a lot again lately and you were struggling because of it, how you'd joined a new band—
"A band, huh?" Miles suddenly perked up, finally looking up from his sketchbook. "Did I tell you Gwen's in a band? It's called the Mary Janes—"
"Miles would you please stop?"
A pause, both of you mildly surprised at how you'd snapped at him.
The two of you were at your dorm, seated side-by-side on the bed with your legs folded in front of you. It was Friday, the day before Mr. Morales’s pre signing-in party.
The boy looked at you, a questioning look on his face. "What's wrong?"
And that tilt with his head - he really didn't know, did he? You couldn't decide if that was better or worse.
"Miles, I know Gwen's in a band," He tried to say something, but you didn't let him speak before you continued. "I know she's a drummer, I know she does ballet, I know she had to shave half of her head because you couldn't control your powers - hell, the whole school knows that—"
"C’mon, don’t bring that up—"
"—I know every single story she told you while she was here, and I know every single detail of what you two did and how you did it. And I know she does everything I can do and she does it better. I’m tired of hearing it, Miles." His eyebrows furrowed, a slightly hurt look flashing across his face. "I’m sorry you miss her and I’m sorry she’s gone, but I just can’t be around you if all you’re gonna do is compare me to her."
A moment of silence settled in the air. You hoped Miles would understand. Surely, he’d see how tedious this was getting.
"All I’m asking is for you to tone it down."
Another beat passes without a word from the boy. He’s looking into your eyes, but it doesn’t seem like he’s all there. Like there’s a world past your irises that he’s seeing for the first time.
"I- I’m sorry, y/n, I can’t do that." Miles finally says, his gaze turning away from yours and to the sketch he’d been working on for the last hour. You glanced down at it as well, the bright blue eyes of the one and only Gwen Stacy meeting yours.
"You’re the only one I can talk to on this," he said quietly, softly closing the sketchbook and tapping a finger nervously on the cover.
"Ganke?"
"Ganke’s fine, he’s great, he’s just.. not someone I can go to for these things."
You took a deep breath, the guilt of having to tell him ‘no’ building up in your chest. You knew his relationship with his parents were complicated at the moment, and he didn’t really have friends outside of you and Ganke. But still.. it was like he wasn’t at all interested in what was going on in your life ever since your initial reconnection.
It wasn’t like you expected a complete 50:50 give-and-take in relationships, but honestly you felt like you were talking to a robot with very limited audio cues.
"Miles, you don’t listen to me anymore. The only time you actually respond to anything I say is when it’s something even remotely related to Gwen."
"That’s not true!" Miles protested. You watched as he tried to find something to argue his point, only to come up empty. His shoulders sagged a little.
"But you gotta understand, Gwen - I’m not gonna see her again, at least until I figure out.. everything." He said in a quiet voice. "I need to talk to someone. Can’t you understand?”
"I’m not trying to shut everything down, I’m just asking you to pay attention to me every once in a while." You sighed. "And if you’e not willing to do that… do you even think of me as a friend?"
-
Miles left your dorm not long after that little talk, sneaking out the same way he snuck in; through the window. You dug your nails into your palms, breathing in and out in a steady rhythm to push down any sadness you may have felt. It was the second time you and Miles had grown apart, this time maybe your fault a little more than his. It felt like it, anyway.
Still, you felt like you’d done the right thing.
You hoped so, anyway.
-
It was an hour before Jeff Morales’s technically-not-captain-yet-but-will-be-soon celebration. Your dad and yourself had come early to prepare everything and set up all the decorations. Your mom apparently ‘couldn’t make it’. It was the third time in the last two weeks she cancelled on plans that your dad was involved in.
You stacked red plastic cups on one of the tables, a cooler full of ice and two-litre soda bottles to your left. Miles’s parents had insisted they didn’t need any help, but your dad had insisted right on back that the two of you wanted to. You didn’t mind. You’d cleared your evening for the event anyway, so it’s not like you had anything better to do.
The one thing that made you kind of regret coming was your lack of a jacket. It’d been really sunny in the morning, so you’d figured it would be a warm night. A breeze picked up and sent a light chill through your body, causing you to just barely shiver.
"Mija," Mrs. Morales called, coming up from behind you and laying a hand on your shoulder. "You’re freezing."
"Oh, I’m fine, mama," you replied, smiling at her. She gave you a look that said ‘we both know that isn’t true’.
"Miles might have something in his room," she suggested, "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you borrowed one of his clothes."
You thanked her but refused, claiming it might get warmer once the guests started to arrive and the party was at full swing. She must have noticed something was off when she mentioned Miles, because she raised an eyebrow and shook her head lightly before asking,
"What did he do now?"
Either you’re really bad at hiding things from her or her motherly sixth-sense worked on you too. You hesitated, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell her. After all, Rio had always been like a mom to you.
"We had a fight - if you can even call it that, anyway, about a girl," you said, fiddling with a plastic cup. "We’re not on real good terms right now, I don’t think…"
Rio looked slightly surprised for a moment, then something seemed to click into place. She sighed and put her hands on your cheeks. "He’s a little bit slow," she said, giving you a sympathetic smile. "But he’ll get there. Eventually."
She then squished your face before immediately letting go, making you laugh. "Now go get yourself a jacket. I don’t want my only daughter to freeze to death."
You held your hands up in surrender as she pointed to the stairs, swiftly making your way down to the Moraleses’ flat. You had a spare key that Miles’s parents had given you a long while ago, when your parents used to have full on screaming matches in the middle of the living room every other day.
Within a couple minutes you’d grabbed one of the dozen coats, hoodies and jackets strewn about Miles’s closet, pulling the soft material over your shoulders as you took a glance around his room. Everything was about the same as you’d seen two or three weeks ago, save for a few new stickers laid about the desk.
There was an all-too-familiar sketchbook on the bed, one similar to what Miles had been scribbling in last night in your dorm, just in a different color. This one looked a bit more used, so you supposed he’d gotten it and packed it full of Gwen Stacy just after she left this reality. The thought put a bitter taste on your tongue.
-
A half an hour into the party, Miles still hadn’t showed up. He was supposed to be here at least twenty minutes ago, and you could tell his parents were getting both worried and annoyed. Rio asked around for her son as Jeff chatted with some colleagues. Suddenly, an auntie shoved a mic into Mrs. Morales’s hand, drawing everybody’s attention to her by clinking her glass. Jeff looked away in what could only be described as complete horror.
"Um, hi…"
You grinned as she continued with embarrassing stories about her husband, from little anecdotes from when they were dating to how he was almost 10lbs as a baby. It was then that Mr. Morales jumped in, quickly taking the mic away from her and giving his own speech.
"—And to my son…"
You grimaced as he raised his cup, looking around for someone who wasn’t there. The two of you met eyes instead, and you shook your head to tell him he hadn’t showed with an apologetic look. He turned to his wife, only for her to do the same. He cleared his throat before continuing.
"…The reason I do any of this in the first place. So.. I love you Miles."
Afterwards, the DJ put the records on again. People are talking, laughing, congratulating, creating a warm, buzzing atmosphere. You’re dragged away by a few little kids to play with them over by a small cluster of barrels, which they’ve decided is their ‘lair’. You play make believe with them for a little while as their parents stand a bit away with your own dad, occasionally glancing over at you to make sure the kids are behaving.
It’s then that Miles finally shows up, pushing the door open with two boxes in his arms. You follow him through your peripheral vision as he tries to avoid his parents, ultimately failing. You’re not sure what they’re saying, but it doesn’t seem to be going that well. He shows them the contents of his boxes, which doesn’t seem to impress them too much.
After a couple more words, Mr. Morales raises his voice, the DJ trying to divert people’s attention away by upping the volume but ultimately giving up.
"What do you got to tell me so bad?"
"You know what? Never mind."
Miles walked away, pulling his hood up as his dad yelled after him about him being grounded for two months. Must’ve been really bad, huh?
You waited for the music to come back on before you made your way to the exit, ruffling one of the little kids’ hair as he skittered away with his sister. You’re just going to check on him for a minute, just to see if he’s okay. You can do that… right? I mean sure, it might be awkward since things had ended like that last night, but still.
No one else was going to.
You let yourself into the flat once again, approaching Mile’s room with soft footsteps. You’re just outside the door when—
"Are these your drawings?"
You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart freezes right along with you. For a moment, you felt like a deer in headlights.
A feeling crawls its way under your skin, cold and slippery. You don’t know how you know, but you’re absolutely positive.
"Missed you too."
Gwen Stacy.
-
You’re on your way home, your hands rubbing up and down your arms to try to warm yourself up during the walk. You lived a little while away from Miles’s place, but it’s nothing you can’t walk.
You’d left the jacket on the Morales’ couch, turning on your heel and leaving the moment you heard her voice.
Damn it.
When had she gotten back? How had she gotten back? What was Miles’s reaction?
What were they doing now?
…Did you really want to know?
As your brain clouded over with questions, you took a wrong turn. Maybe two. Or three. Honestly, you didn’t know. Once you realized that this definitely wasn’t your neighborhood, you stopped yourself mid-step, looking around to see if anything was familiar at all.
Your eyes settled on a building, as there really wasn’t anything other than that around here other than some roads and bridges. One of the windows were glowing.
Then the whole structure began to rumble.
The ground beneath your feet started to turn… black…?
Wha—
-
You fell.
Not for too long, but you did.
You dropped around six feet onto hard concrete, twisting your ankle in the process. You cried out in pain and surprise.
"What the—?"
"Y/n?"
You looked up at that. You knew that voice.
Except, you didn’t.
The first thing you noticed is that this definitely was not the place you were in before. This place was more narrow, more dark. Light rain pattered on your skin as your hands supported your sitting position, wondering what the hell was going on.
The person who’d said your name was at the entrance to the alley you’d been.. teleported? to.
They took hesitant steps over to you, and, for some reason, you didn’t feel scared that this complete stranger had cornered you in a place you’d never even seen before.
Maybe the voice is what made you think it was alright.
Or maybe it was his face, which made your heart stop its primary function for the second time today.
"Miles?"
But he wasn’t Miles. At least.. not your Miles. This one was skinnier, just a little shorter. His accent had more of a Spanish touch to it and, most of all, his hair was braided into two sections that reached just below his shoulders.
No. He was very much not your Miles Morales.
Nevertheless, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. There was something in his eyes — regret? Happiness? Sadness? Anger? Confusion? Probably all of the above.
He got closer, and closer, and closer. Once he reached where you were half-laying, he crouched down and tilted his umbrella until it sheltered your body more than his.
"…Are you hurt?" He asked, giving you a once-over. You just nodded, still putting all the pieces together.
Had you—
Did you—?
The boy in front of you studied your face for a little while, but then ultimately shook his head and shrugged off his jacket, handing it over to you.
"Come on. It’s cold outside."
2K notes · View notes
ichorai · 1 year
Text
cheesepie ; miles morales.
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pairing ; miles morales x gn!reader
synopsis ; miles was the warm kind of nostalgia, like playing video games at three in the morning while whisper-yelling insults at each other, or dyeing each other’s hair horrendous bright colors in his tiny bathroom with cheap dye from the drugstore down the street, or standing on his apartment’s rooftop to stargaze the light-polluted sky of brooklyn.
words ; 3.1k
themes ; childhood friends to kinda-lovers, fluff, mild angst, slice of life
warnings / includes ; cursing, miles' parents are adorable and i love them, lots of playful banter, a bit emotional near the end, let's pretend miles still lives at home with his parents and not at the prep school
main masterlist.
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The tip of Miles’ tongue poked slightly out of the corner of his mouth as he cocked his hand back, a grape pinched between his pointer finger and thumb. “Lean back a little,” he told you, narrowing his eyes in concentration.
You did as he asked, jaw wide open, prepared to catch. 
He took another moment to readjust, and you rolled your eyes. 
Right as he tossed the grape, you barked out in frustration, “Just throw it already!”
The cold fruit bounced right off the side of your lips and landed on the floor with a quiet thud. You blinked in shock. 
Miles glared at you.
Then he smiled. 
“You’re a lousy catcher,” he said, boyish peals of laughter echoing from his chest. With a sigh, he collapsed into his bed, crossing his legs and propping his head up with both his arms. 
“Maybe you’re just a lousy thrower,” you replied easily, slinking across the room to sink into the mattress beside him, mimicking his position. 
The two of you were far too large for his small bed—his long, gangly limbs awkwardly knocked against yours and you had to bump your hip into his to scooch him further to the edge so you’d have more space.
“Stop hogging my bed,” Miles snarked with no real malice to his words—in fact, he was beaming goofily, watching you with amusement as you grumbled under your breath about how it wasn’t your fault his bed was so narrow. 
Your socked foot kicked him in the shin. He retaliated by elbowing you in the ribs. “When was the last time you changed your sheets?”
Miles stuck his tongue out at you. “You don’t wanna know.”
“Ew,” you said, but didn’t bother moving. “You’re gross.”
The boy laying beside you reached out to blindly ruffle your hair, nearly poking your eyes out in the process. “Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself.”
A comfortable silence stretched over the two of you, and you couldn’t help but revel in the overwhelming sense of nostalgia that clawed up your throat. The warm kind of nostalgia, like playing video games at three in the morning while whisper-yelling insults at each other, or dyeing each other’s hair horrendous bright colors in his tiny bathroom with cheap dye from the drugstore down the street, or standing on his apartment’s rooftop to stargaze the light-polluted sky of Brooklyn and crown new constellations stupid names like ‘Snail Eating a Peanut Butter Sandwich’ or ‘Darth Vader Wearing Lady Gaga’s Meat Dress’. 
It was the kind of nostalgia that made you miss a time that wasn’t yet over.
“Miles,” you whispered, staring at the bumps of his popcorn ceiling. He hummed faintly in reply. “Do you think you’re going to stay here for the rest of your life?”
When he didn’t answer, you lolled your head to your side to look at him, brows furrowed. You were surprised to see that he was looking right at you with an indiscernible gaze, as if he was in a trance of some sort. 
“Miles?” 
He only snapped out of it when you flicked his forehead, and he balked forward, yelping out in half-shock, half-pain. A sheepish grin etched plainly across his lips.
“Sorry, can you repeat that?”
“Just say you weren’t listening to me and leave.” With a chortle of a laugh, you shoved your palm straight into his beaming face and pushed his head so he was forced to look away from you. “Nevermind, you idiot. It was nothing.”
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You jogged up the narrow stairs to Miles’ apartment door, slightly out of breath, and rang the doorbell. No less than a minute later, his dad swung the door open, already dressed in his police uniform. A bagel was sandwiched between his teeth and his hat sat crooked on his head, which made you guess that he was probably late for work (Miles definitely had the same habit of being tardy), but he ruffled your hair nonetheless, smiling at you from around the bagel. 
“Hey, Mr. Davis,” you greeted with a mirroring grin. “Is the birthday boy home?”
He tried to speak around the food, but Mrs. Morales popped her head out from behind him, smacking his shoulder with a stern glare. “Jeff! That’s disgusting—don’t speak to them with food in your mouth!” She looked to you, her expression melting into one of affection. “Sorry about that, honey. Come on in, Miles is in his room. Wake him up if he’s still asleep, will you? I swear, that boy would snore right through a hurricane. Oh, and ask him if he wants cake or pie for his birthday dessert—and don’t take ‘I don’t really mind’ for an answer.”
“Will do, Mrs. Morales.”
Side-stepping the playfully bickering couple, you bid them adieu with a mock salute before marching straight to Miles’ room down the hall. 
You reached into your bag to pull out the can of silly string you bought from the corner store just beside school, biting into your lip with anticipation. You popped the bright red lid off before knocking on the door.
Just as it swung open to reveal Miles with mussed hair and droopy eyelids, you pressed the nozzle with a wide grin and damp pink strings shot out, covering his face entirely. He wasn’t fazed at all, going so far as to yawn when you enthusiastically yelled out, “SURPRISE! Happy birthday, dude!”
He blinked, swiping the limp strings away from his eyes. A hint of a smile cracked through his sleepy expression.
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to at least pretend to be surprised.”
“This is, like, the fifth year in a row, Y/N.”
“You love it,” you crooned, before launching yourself forward to envelop him in a hug. Miles immediately reciprocated, wrapping his arms around you tightly, making sure to nuzzle extra hard into your shoulder so the pink gunk on his face would rub into your clothes. 
“Thank you,” he whispered into you. “At least you didn’t launch those fake cockroaches at me again. That was a nightmare.”
A cackle fell from you as you pulled away, pinching his cheek fondly. “Noted. Saving that for next year, then. Here, I got you some things.”
He pushed his door open further so the two of you could amble in. You sat cross-legged on his bed, pulling your bag into your lap and rifling through its contents before you pulled out a cheap glittery card.
“Hope there’s money in here,” he quipped as he took it from you. Bits of blue glitter fell onto his comforter as he pried the card open, and he shot you a glare. It was clearly a card meant for a seven-year-old child, but in bright red sharpie, the number 1 was drawn in front of the 7, with a little heart and a smiley face below. If you hadn’t been watching him so intently, Miles was sure he would’ve teared up at the sweet gesture—despite you doing it every year for as long as he could remember. His voice cracked with unvocalized emotion when he croaked out, “There’s no money in here.”
You scoffed, punching his bicep weakly. “You’re an ass. Here, I made you this, too. Had to watch, like, a billion YouTube videos to learn how to crochet these. You’re welcome.”
Alright, maybe it was less than a billion, and a lot closer to five. But Miles didn’t need to know that.
Digging into your bag again, you fished out a long woolen scarf that had alternating black and vibrant purple stripes. You threw it straight into his face before pulling out yet another piece, which Miles noticed was a soft, lavender-hued beanie. 
“You made these for me?” Miles asked in surprise, his thumb running over the soft yarn of the scarf. 
“Duh doy,” you said, wrinkling your nose in amusement when he wrapped the scarf around his neck with a goofy grin. “Here—this is the last thing, I swear—but, I also got these for you. I know you’ve been wanting them for forever.”
With one final scrummage through your bag, you pulled out a pack of premium coloring pencils, which Miles scrambled to grab, his wide eyes darting between the colors and your fond gaze. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you got these for me. They’re so expensive, Y/N, you really shouldn’t have.”
“Well,” you said, slinging an arm around him, “I gotta support local artists, you know? And you are, by far, my favorite one.”
He placed the pencils down between you, and roped you into another proper hug, quietly murmuring his thanks into your hair. 
“Your mom wanted me to ask you if you wanted birthday cake or birthday pie this year,” you whispered into him, playing with the tassels at the end of his new scarf.
“I’m kinda feeling cheesecake this year.”
“Cheesecake is pie, Miles.”
“Then why isn’t it called cheesepie?”
“Because that sounds gross.”
“You sound gross.”
“You’re grosser.”
“You’re grosserer.”
“That’s not a word.”
Miles sighed into your hairline, tugging you closer. The two of you dropped your childish bickering as if it had never happened. “Thank you—for all this. I know I don’t tell you enough but, I… love you. Blegh. It’s so weird being sappy with you.”
He kept his hand to the back of your head so you wouldn’t be able to see his eyes tearing up. You heard him sniffling, so it was really pointless, anyway.
“I guess I love you, too. Idiot.”
“Smartass.”
“Nerd.”
The two of you laughed into each other.
“Happy birthday, Miles.”
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A month passed by in a breeze. The two of you had rarely seen each other through the days because you had been loaded with work and Miles… Miles was busy. Apparently. You weren’t entirely sure with what exactly, but you didn’t really want to pry. He was a teenage boy—they were allowed to have their own little secrets if they wanted to. 
But it was the weekend, and you missed your best friend. 
“Hey, Y/N,” Miles’ dad greeted you as he swung the door open. He lifted a hand for a high five, and you playfully pressed your knuckles into his palm as if you were fist bumping him. He chuckled at your antics, before speaking again. “Miles is at school—some sort of art club, I think. Or maybe it was a science convention. I never know with him nowadays. Gonna have to ask him once he gets back. You can wait for him in his room—he should be back any minute now.”
“Alright,” you said, ambling down the hall. You waved to Mrs. Morales in the kitchen before slipping into his room, shutting the door behind you softly.
You kicked your shoes off as you crawled onto his bed, curling into a ball and brandished your phone out of your pocket, texting Miles. 
yo bitch wya ur dad said you were at a science convention? bfr ik ur lying
After hesitating for a moment, you sent another text.
i miss you
You sighed, tossing your phone somewhere beside you and stared up at his popcorn ceiling. Boredom eating you away, you reached over to his table to grab one of the haphazardly strewn comic books, aimlessly flipping through the colorful graphics. You were wondering why the story was so familiar until you realized that this was your comic book that Miles had swiped from your room nearly a month ago. 
A loose sheet of paper fell out the back, and you sat up against his headboard, tilting your head curiously. 
Oh. 
It was a drawing of you. 
Your eyebrows raised as you studied the colorful sketch—seemingly done with the nice pencils you’d given him for his birthday—and looked like it was done in a hurry, but it was effortlessly beautiful nonetheless.
You were smiling widely in the drawing, holding up a peace sign. Miles had somehow even remembered the small scar across your nose bridge from that time when he had accidentally thrown a basketball straight into your face a year ago. 
“Oh, Miles,” you whispered softly, tracing the intricate lines with a finger.
As if on cue, the window beside his desk slid open, and in crawled… Spider-Man?
But Spider-Man—Peter Parker—was dead. The two of you had gone to listen to MJ Parker’s remembrance speech together a couple years ago. And Spider-Man had a blue and red suit.
This wasn’t Spider-Man. At least, not the one that you knew. 
The figure, frozen halfway through the window, sported a sleek back and red spider suit. 
And, you recognized with wide eyes, the lavender beanie was pulled over his head, on top of the dark mask. 
You blinked, scrambling back on his bed. 
“Miles…?” you asked tentatively.
Your best friend, the one that you loved ever so dearly, slowly slid into his room, and shut the window behind him, before taking the mask off. His hair was rumpled and his features were slightly winded, but otherwise, he looked just the same.
Words failed to cohesively stick together as you struggled to ask him a proper question. “What are you… why are you…”
Miles pursed his lips. “I didn’t want you to know. Not this soon, at least.”
“Know what, Miles?”
He let out a long sigh, before backing up to the wall. He then proceeded to walk along his walls perfectly horizontal, as if his shoes were somehow suction-cupped to the plaster.
“What the fuck…” you whispered, staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes. “Miles, what the actual fuck? Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming.”
“You’re not dreaming.” He dropped back to the ground silently.
“So you’re… what? You’re Spider-Man, now?”
Miles shrugged. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”
“You have powers?”
Teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he nodded sheepishly. “Bitten by a radioactive spider a while ago.”
Hurt etched into your voice without you meaning to do so. “Why didn’t you tell me, Miles?”
“I didn’t…” he cut himself off, slumping into his chair. The brown of his eyes gleamed with inner conflict, unsure of what to tell you. “I didn’t want you to worry. So much has been happening, I just—I wanted you to be separate. I wanted you to be… away from all of that.”
The two of you were silent for a moment.
You squared your jaw.
“Okay.”
Miles looked up at you in surprise.
“Okay? What do you mean?”
“Okay as in—I’ll stay away from it all if you really want me to. Spider or not, you’re my best friend, Miles. Nothing will ever change that.” You pushed yourself off the bed to walk over to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, then promptly changed your mind, winding your arms around his torso and tugging him into a warm embrace. “But if you die out there… I’ll actually kill you. I’ll do it, Miles, I will.”
He laughed slightly, winding his lanky arms around you to return the hug. “I believe you. Thank you.”
“I love you,” you whispered, chin resting on his suit-clad shoulder. “Things are changing for both of us, Miles. And I need you to stay in my life.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, rubbing comforting circles into your back with his palm. There was a knot in his chest, and a lump in his throat. He felt the strange need to cry build up within him, but he kept the tears at bay for you. “I love you, too, you know.”
You hummed against him, sniffling slightly. “I know.”
“I saw your text. I miss you, too.”
“I know.”
“I love you,” Miles repeated, voice faltering slightly.
“I know?” you parroted, mildly confused.
He grasped your shoulders to pull you away, holding you at an arm’s length. The expression that melded over his handsome features was suddenly deadly serious. The abrupt change was jarring—it scared you. “Maybe not in a friend way, though.”
“Oh,” you whispered. You could feel your pulse thrumming beneath your skin. “I didn’t know that.”
A hot tear slipped down your cheek and your shoulders trembled as you staved off a hiccuping sob. Miles’ heart lurched, and he hurriedly swiped it away, afraid that he had completely ruined what the two of you had.
“Everything’s changing, Miles. You know I hate change. It’s all moving by too quickly.” Your expression crumpled as more tears began sliding down your face. “But I think I love you, too. Maybe not in a friend way. And that just… terrifies me.” 
Warmth from his palm radiated against your face even with the suit layered over his hand. He cupped your cheeks delicately, tilting his head as he studied you.
“Can I… can I try something? And if it doesn’t work out, we can just pretend it never happened and go back to being best friends. I promise.”
You weren’t stupid. You knew Miles wanted to kiss you.
“Okay,” you croaked.
And he did.
It wasn’t at all like how kisses were depicted in the movies. There were no fireworks, no explosive passion, and certainly no feverish desperation. Only bumping noses and gentle smiles and lips that tasted of salty tears. And it was perfect. 
“Hm. You’re a bad kisser,” Miles concluded in a joking tone, but dipped down to give you another kiss nonetheless.
You weren’t entirely sure where this left your relationship, and if you were being honest, you were a bit too scared to interrogate him for answers he probably also didn’t have. You didn’t want to ask for much—you were just happy to spend time with him and enjoy the last few precious remnants of teenagehood the two of you had left together. Miles meant the world to you, and you’d be damned if a radioactive spider got in the way of that.
Arching an eyebrow, you gestured to the looseleaf drawing you left on his bed. “And you’re a creep for drawing me without letting me know.”
Miles blanched. “I… hey! You were looking through my stuff?”
“It was in a comic book on the table. That you stole from me, remember?” Tugging him back to you, you leaned up to slant your lips onto his, smiling stupidly into the kiss. “Idiot.”
“Well, it takes one to know one,” he murmured against you, grinning so wide that it nearly split his face in two.
You shut him up by kissing him again.
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xxoxobree · 9 months
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The Boy Is Mine
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Miles Morales x Black Fem Spider-person Reader v Gwen Stacy.
Summary: He saved you and She didn’t want to and maybe she was right because the boy is now yours.
WARNINGS: Fighting, bad words, I think that’s it.
A/n: I was tied!!! Of seeing Miles cheat with Gwen so I took matters into my own hands. This is probably one of the best stories I’ve ever written too so don’t skip. I had so much fun writing this.
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For the past 2 years, you've been the one and only Spider-woman. Everyone knows the story by now, bitten by a radioactive spider, and now you spend your time protecting the city. Everything was going great. Or that's what you wanted to believe as you fought Wilson Fisk, a person who is supposed to be behind bars. This Wilson was different - bigger, stronger, he was giving you a run for your money.
"What have they been feeding you at the Raft, Willie?" You quipped as you dodged a punch. "Haha, missed me," you said, landing a punch combo to his jaw.
"You stupid spiders are always in the way," he said, managing to catch you off guard, knocking you back. This fight is definitely gonna take a while.
"Who are you anyway, where's Spider-Man?" Fisk asked, walking menacingly toward you as you lay on the floor to catch a breath.
"I don't get paid enough for this," you said, getting up, squaring up with the large man.
Spider-Man, what are you talking about, Fisk?" You asked the man leaping backwards, dodging all of his hits.
"Enough of this talk, this ends now," Fisk said, running toward you. You charged back, your fist balled, about to strike, but he dodged and caught you by your throat.
"Another spider under my belt," Fisk said, laughing as he squeezed your throat. Gasping for air, you tried your best to break free from his grip, but your vision began to fade out. Your strength left you, and your eyes began to close. All you wanted to do was sleep, but you blinked your eyes again. Maybe you were hallucinating from the lack of oxygen, but a portal with glowing lights appeared, and two other spider personas flew forward, knocking Fisk out. You dropped to the floor, gasping for air, but still fainted in the process.
You probably weren't out for long, but you heard faint voices, a female and a male.
"What do we do, Gwen? We can't just leave her here."
"Miles, what are we supposed to do? We can't take her back to HQ."
You were too weak to actually open your eyes to see who was talking. Too weak to stop them from kidnapping you and taking you to wherever HQ was. You tried to let out a small groan, but it was useless.
"That's exactly what we need to do, Gwen. She needs medical care."
"Ughhh.... Fine, you grab her."
You heard footsteps move towards you, and your body being lifted before you succumbed to the darkness around you again.
✨HQ✨
Your bloodshot eyes shot open as you sat up, feeling around for your mask that wasn't on your face. You heard the fast-paced beeping of a heart monitor, letting you know your heart rate was up as you ripped all the pads off of you, standing ready to leave the room before two people came walking inside. You immediately got in defense mode as you studied them - an older man in a blue suit with a spider on the front, and a younger boy about your age in a black suit, also with a spider on the front.
"Where the fuck am I, and who are you?" you said, pointing.
"Welcome to HQ, Spiderwoman. I'm Spider-Man, and he's Spider-Man. Glad you survived. Miles, I'll leave you to it," the older man in the blue suit said, walking away.
Miles walked closer to you, setting off your spider senses. You closed one of your eyes, moving your head to the side, resting your hand on your head. "Don't come any closer," you said.
You're probably not used to that, but you're like me, it does that sometimes. I'm Miles.
"Yeah, I got that from earlier," you said, flopping back on the hospital cot, still very much in pain.
Miles wasn't in the room when they took off your mask, so this was the first time he saw your face. He scanned every detail of your face, taking in the way your plump lips formed into a natural pout, or maybe that was just because you were in pain. The way your brown eyes sparkled under the bright white light, he couldn't help but be captivated by your gaze. He loved your braids and the way your pink beads rattled every time you moved.
Miles felt something stir in the pit of his stomach the longer he looked at you. Maybe it was just gas from the spicy food he ate earlier, he thought, in denial of the growing attraction he felt for a stranger.
"Well, aren't you gonna tell me your name?" Miles finally mustered the courage to ask.
You turned to face him, the pain momentarily forgotten as you observed his silly smirk. You weren't usually the friendliest person, but there was something about Miles that felt different, something that made you want to open up.
"I'm Y/n," you replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
Nice to meet you Y/n," Miles said, offering his hand. You looked at it. "I'd shake your hand, but I'm in too much pain right now," you said, causing both of you to laugh. There it was, that fluttering feeling in the pit of Miles' stomach again as he watched a beautiful smile grace your face.
"So, what is this place and why am I here?" you asked Miles, curiosity shining in your eyes. "This is the Spider Society. We brought you here because you were in bad shape from fighting Fisk," Miles explained. You coughed a bit. "Yup, he whooped my ass," you said, making both you and Miles burst into laughter again.
Unbeknownst to the two of you, Gwen stood outside the door, her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding inside. With each word you said to Miles, with each chuckle you elicited from him, the flames of jealousy ignited within her. Unable to bear it any longer, she burst into the room, startling both you and Miles.
"What the fuck? You didn't even have to do all that, shawty," You exclaimed. Miles stood up, a look of surprise on his face. "Gwen, this is Y/n, Spider-woman, the one we helped," he explained, pointing toward you.
"Oh, hi. I'm glad you're okay," Gwen said, her words laced with a hint of insincerity.
This your girl Miles ?" You asked.
"No, no." They both said in unison dragging their o's. It was obvious to you that there was more to the story by the way she busted into the room but that was none of your business.
"Well, it was nice to meet you, Y/n. We should get going," Gwen said, gently tugging Miles towards the door.
Before leaving, Miles tossed you a watch that you effortlessly caught. "Maybe we can see each other again," he said, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. You smiled, watching him walk away.
"Hmmm," you hummed, examining the watch before clasping it onto your wrist. "Maybe we will, Spider-Man."
As Gwen and Miles made their way through the headquarters, Miles couldn't ignore Gwen's evident distress. He studied her face and body language.He called out to her, "Gwen?"
Getting no response, Miles tried a sing-songy voice, calling her name once more. "What, Miles?" she replied, her voice tinged with bitterness.
"I know you're upset. Do you want to talk or not?" Miles asked, genuinely wanting to understand what was bothering her.
"Why don't you go talk to Y/n?"
"Gwen, are you serious? I barely know her, but she's a cool girl," Miles defended, trying to reassure her.
"Oh, she's cool now?" Gwen's tone dripped with sarcasm and doubt.
Miles gently reached for Gwen's hand, stopping her in her tracks, making her face him directly. "Look, Gwen, you don't have to worry about her, okay?" he said softly.
Gwen's expression softened, and she nodded, a flicker of trust returning to her eyes. "Alright, Miles. She said giving him a small punch to the shoulder.
✨The Mission✨
You were back in your dimension 2 days post fight with Fisk feeling good as new. You were in bed, examining the watch Miles gave you, when a hologram of a woman appeared, making you scream.
"Oh hey there new recruit, I'm Lyla," she said, waving.
"Hi... Lyla," you said slowly, waving back.
"Sorry to scare you, but the boss needs you at HQ, your first mission... Yayyyy, so suit up," she said before disappearing.
"Uh, okay," you said, slipping into your skintight suit and mask, slapping on your watch, struggling to find out how to get it to work because no one gave you a tutorial. But you managed using your genius brain and stepped through the portal, gracefully landing in a dark room with monitors.
"Great, you're here......Miles!" the man you were familiar with but never got his name called out.
From the shadows, Miles emerged with a smile on his face. "Good to see you again, Mamita," he said.
"Oh, we're using pet names now?" you said, matching his flirty energy.
"That's enough," Miguel said as he stood before you two. "Anomaly in Earth 746, catch it."
"Anomaly?" you questioned.
"I'll tell you all about it later," Miles said, grabbing your hand, opening a portal, and pulling you through.
You dusted off your hands. The mission went well, a little too well, especially for a Goblin mission.
"You're pretty good, Miles."
"You too, Mamita. Gotta say, I doubted you a little after the Fisk fight," he teased.
"Oh, whatever," you said, rolling your eyes, chuckling a bit.
You moved closer to Miles, mere inches between you two, as you ran your fingers along his jawline.
Miles' breath hitched as you touched him, his hazel eyes expressing the tension between you two. There was no denying that Miles was handsome, and you were eager to learn more about him.
"So what dimension are you from, Papa?" you asked playfully, a flirtatious smile gracing your lips.
"1610. Maybe we could go there?" Miles responded, his voice filled with anticipation.
"Take a girl on a date first, Miles," you laughed, teasing him gently.
"No, I didn't mean it like that. I..." Miles stammered, trying to explain himself.
"I would love to see your dimension, Miles," you interrupted, cutting him off.
And so, Miles took you to his dimension.
"This is Brooklyn." Miles said as you two stood atop the Williamsburg Bank building, you marveled at the city below. It was similar to your own home, yet distinctly different. Miles watched in awe as your eyes sparkled at the city, feeling a flutter in his stomach.
"It's beautiful, Miles," you whispered, taking a seat to soak in the view.
He walked forward and sat beside you, his face beaming with joy. You turned towards him, a warm smile on your lips.
"So, what's your story, big head?" you asked, playfully leaning on him.
"My story?" Miles responded, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"You're Spider-Man, Miles. What's your origin?" you asked , curious him.
"You know, regular Spider-Man stuff. I gained my powers and now I fight bad guys," Miles answered, a humble tone in his voice.
"That's not what I meant," you said, giving him a small shove. "What's the real story? I was bitten by a radioactive spider too, two years ago on a field trip to Oscorp. Your world doesn't seem to have Oscorp." You sighed, frustration and sadness mixing in your voice. "I got these crazy powers that I didn't know what to do with, so I decided to keep them a secret and pretend that I was a regular kid."
The weight of your words hung heavy in the air as you choked up, memories flooding back. Miles noticed your distress and perked up. "It's okay, you don't have to share if you don't want to," he said, trying to comfort you.
But something compelled you to open up, to let go of the burden you had been carrying alone for so long. You rested your hand gently on top of his. "I pretended to be some regular kid, and that led to me losing my mom. And from then on, I decided to help everyone else," you finished.
Miles's heart stung as he listened to your story. "I lost someone close to me too, my uncle Aaron. He was shot saving me," he shared, the pain evident in his voice.
A sense of understanding and connection washed over you both. You leaned your head on his shoulder. "See, that's your story, Papa," you said softly, appreciating the bond that formed between you. "You know, Miles, it's so nice to have someone to talk about this stuff with now," you added, gazing at the sun setting on the horizon.
That moment solidified your blooming relationship with Miles. Whenever you had free time, you would pop into his dimension, and vice versa. Now, in your suit, you found yourself in dimension 1610, patiently waiting for Miles to catch up as you swung through the bustling city.
"Keep up, Miles," you teased, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you effortlessly jumped from building to building, landing with grace. The two of you were headed back to his house, where Jeff and Rio, his parents, adored you and had grown fond to your presence after all the time you spent with Miles.
They couldn't wrap their head around the whole different dimension thing and just assumed Miles' imagination had run wild. You two walked through his front door.
"Hey Mama Rio," you greeted Miles' mom.
"Hey Mija."
"Hey Mom," Miles said, hugging his mom before the two of you walked into his room. You two were too caught up in conversation to notice a guest. Gwen. She cleared her throat, making you two snap your attention towards her.
"Gwen, hey," Miles said nervously. "What are you - what are you doing here?"
"I came to see you because I barely see you anymore, but now I know why," Gwen answered.
You snickered a bit, knowing you essentially snatched Miles from Gwen.
"Oh, that's funny?" Gwen asked.
You threw your hands up in surrender, not wanting to get into it with her.
"We were about to watch a movie, order some pizza. You can stay if you want," Miles offered to pacify Gwen, but he was hoping she'd turn it down. He cherished his alone time with you.
"No, it's fine, Miles. I'll leave," Gwen said with a hint of frustration in her voice.
"Uh, okay. Bye," Miles said
"Bye, Gwendolyn," you added, unable to hide the small smirk on your face.
Gwen turned to you and asked, "You know what, can we talk outside, Y/n?"
Rolling your eyes, you agreed, "Sure, why not?" You grabbed Miles' hand, signaling for him to come along.
"Alone," Gwen insisted, her tone unwavering.
"Okay... I'll be back, papa," you said to Miles, giving him a smile and a pat on the cheek.
As you followed Gwen out of the window and onto the roof, you could feel the tension building up. Once you reached a secluded corner, she turned to face you, arms folded.
"What is your problem?" she asked, her voice filled with accusation.
"Girl, what are you talking about?" you answered defensively.
"Miles," she replied, her tone laced with frustration.
"What about him? He's fine, great even," you said, walking closer to her.
"Don't play dumb, Y/n," Gwen snapped.
"What are you getting at, Gwen?" you said, your tone becoming pointed as you grew tired of the conversation.
"He's mine, Y/n, and you're trying to steal him away," her voice filled with possessiveness.
You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Yours?" you asked, shaking your head. "Gwen, you lost him the day you two saved me."
As the words left your mouth, the truth hung heavy in the air. Gwen had been holding onto her feelings for Miles while pretending everything was okay. But deep down, she knew that the connection between you and Miles was undeniable.
What you didn't see coming was a slap across your face from Gwen, not thinking she was bold enough to do it. The sting of her actions lingered in the air as shock resonated through your entire being. And what Gwen didn't see was Miles, camouflaged and watching you two from a distance. He didn't hear anything you two talked about, but he sure did see the slap.
As the pain subsided, you didn't retaliate. Deep down, you and Gwen both knew that you had won this battle, that Miles was now dedicated to you.
"Why would you do that, Gwen?" You heard a voice behind you, and turned to see Miles standing there, his eyes filled with disappointment.
You watched in satisfaction as Gwen's eyes widened, realizing that she had not only hurt you but also jeopardized her chances with Miles. She had unknowingly made it even easier for you to snatch his affection away from her.
"Miles, I..." Gwen stammered, unable to find the right words to justify her actions.
"Why would you hit her?" Miles asked, his voice filled with a mix of anger and hurt.
"You didn't hear what she said, Miles. She's trying to tear us apart. You were mine," Gwen spewed out, desperately clinging to her fading hopes.
"Yours? I'm not some object, Gwen," Miles retorted, his voice laced with disappointment. "Is that why you brought her outside? To hit her?"
A heavy silence hung in the air as Gwen struggled to find an explanation, her words failing her. The truth had been laid bare, and Miles saw her for who she truly was.
"Save it, Gwen," Miles said, his voice firm. "You just showed me the type of person you really are. I've been pining after you for months, and you always brushed me off. But now, now I have someone who actually likes me back."
With those words, he took your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.
You looked at Gwen, a smug look on your face as you squeezed Miles' hand tighter.
"You don't mean that, Miles."Gwen said.
"Yes, I do," Miles turned to you. "She likes me back, and she's the most caring, sweetest, funniest person in this dimension and every other," Miles said, making you tear up a bit, your lip bottom poking out.
"You're so cute when you do that," Miles said.
Gwen watched as her heart slowly broke. She had played with Miles,but now she had lost the game. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. She should be the one he said all those things to. The tears pricked her eyes.
"Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?" The words echoed in Gwen's head, the final blow that made her tears roll down her face.
"Of course, I will, papa," you said, jumping on Miles and giving him a tight hug before pulling back and giving him a big kiss, your first one in front of his former crush.
You and Miles turned to Gwen, watching as she continued to cry.
"You should go, Gwen," you said, your heart aching a bit for the girl, but not a lot.
Miles grabbed your hand as the two of you walked off toward the stairwell, leaving Gwen behind.
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Is This For Real
Earth 42!Miles Morales x fem!reader 
Earth 42!Miles Morales x black!reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Langauge, mentions of death, and mentions of violence
Requested: yes 
Anon: Prowler Miles Morales and the reader findsnout and its a bit of angst but quickly switches to fluff
Anon:  Prowler Miles Morales where reader finds out hes the prowler!!! please🙏🏾
Anon:  Hi! I have an idea for a fanfic can you please do one with prowler Miles Morales x fem!reader where she finds out hes the prowler and he she gets upset because she thinks hes putting himself and harm but he also lied to her so then Miles just comforts her and reassures her and then they hang out!!
A/N: Ik I said this would be posted first thing in the morning but it’s finally here and honestly it’s not my favorite work but I felt I had to let it out into the world, my request are still open and I have some ideas of my own, I finally wanna try out the headcannon format, I’m gonna stop typing and let you read hopefully you like it. 
300 Follower Special <3
Masterlist
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Y/N watched the typing bubbles appear on her screen and then disappear. She groaned, tossing her phone down next to her on her bed. 
She’d been friends with Miles since middle school. He was her best friend and she thought she was his but lately it felt like he was avoiding her. 
I mean he couldn’t even respond to a text for god's sake. 
 She whined, throwing herself backward on her bed. She wanted to cry. 
Maybe she was pushing it too far, the mutual understanding of the feelings between them was something she’d made up and this was his way of letting her down not so gently. 
You know what? No, he doesn’t get to do this to me. She made up her mind rolling off her bed, she was going to confront him. 
Making her way to the apartment door, she slipped on a hoodie and the Jordans Miles bought her to match his. 
The entire chilly 2 block walk to his apartment complex she was fuming, but as she made her way up the stairs to apartment #16 the anger fizzled out and she was mostly just hurt. 
Knocking on the door she was quickly greeted by Rio. 
“Que pasa, mija?” She pulled her through the door by her arm. “What did my son do now?” 
Y/N just shook her head and assured her nothing was wrong. Rio told her she was called back into work for a double and Miles went out to run some errands with his uncle but he’d be back soon. 
She sighed, locking the door behind Rio before making her way to wait it out in Miles’ room. 
The nerves of the impending confrontation started to catch up with her. The fact that today could be the end of their years-long friendship was too much to handle. She paced around the room before settling on beating out her nerves on his punching bag.  
In the middle of her right hook, she heard a creaking sound on the fire escape before hearing a weirdly distorted voice. 
She whipped her head around to see Miles climbing through the window in a black and purple suit with a clawed hand. 
Her eyes widened as she realized she’d seen the suit on the news before coupled with the name the Prowler. 
She screamed as her mouth caught up with her brain and Miles was quick to cover her mouth with his non-gloved hand. 
Pushing him off of her, she ran across the apartment into the bathroom, and frantically locked the door. 
Her mind was running a million miles a second. How could this be real?  
“Y/N, open the door,” Miles begged in his normal voice trying the door knob. “I can explain.”
“Go away!” She yelled and he seemed to listen. 
This was still the Miles she had known since she was 12, he would never hurt her, even if he was running around in a purple suit like a lunatic. 
It took her exactly 3 minutes to finally calm down enough to open the door. When she did he was sitting on the ground next to the door frame in normal lounge clothes. 
He immediately stood up in front of her and began to explain how ever since his dad died his mom never had enough money no matter how much she worked so he turned to his uncle for help. 
“He introduced me to some dude named Kingpin and I did a couple jobs for him, that was supposed to be it, then I couldn’t get out.” He made sure to look her in the eyes so she would listen. “If I stopped he’d hurt my mom, he’d hurt you, I can’t let that happen,” 
She scoffed, moving to sit on the back of the couch. “I understand that you wanted to help but you still lied to me.” 
She sensed the change and repeatedly asked what was going on with him, told him “Y’know you can tell me anything right?”
“I didn’t lie, you never asked.”
His attempt to write this off on her only served to piss her off. 
“Because I shouldn’t’ve had to fucking ask!” She shouted, “You should’ve told me!” 
“I didn’t wanna tell you because I knew you’d act like this,” He admitted moving closer. 
“Act like what?” She implored. 
“Like the world is perfect and you have some moral high ground over everyone.”
“Look,” She started “I’m not stupid, I know Brooklyn is dangerous and people have to fucked up shit but-“ She cut herself off the words too hard to say out loud. 
She took in a deep breath speaking much quieter now “You’re gonna die, that’s the only outcome, you think you’re invincible and-“ She paused to take another breath. 
 “You don’t want me getting hurt but what about you? I’m just supposed to sit here and wait until I see your dead body on the news?” 
No matter how hard she tried to fight it, a tear managed to escape her eye. Soon enough she was fully crying into her hands, feeling dramatic and scared. 
Miles pulled her into a hug resting his chin on her head before pulling back to wipe away her tears. She sniffled, pressing her face back into his chest. 
“Don’t cry mami, I’m not going anywhere I promise” He rubbed your back mumbling “Too pretty to cry over me.”
She pretended not to hear the last part and instead asked for reassurance. “You pinky promise?” She looked up into his eyes waiting for his response. 
“I pinky promise,” He answered, linking his pinky finger with hers. 
He noticed her breathing become less choppy, her occasional sniffles died down, and her eyes were glassy but her cheeks were dry. 
“You good now?” 
She nodded her head wiping at her nose with her arm. 
“C’mere,” He said bringing her with him around the front of the couch he pulled her down to sit. 
She leaned into his side pulling the throw blanket across her legs as he opened Hulu turning on the Hunger Games. A movie he’d grown tired of after Y/N’s insistence on watching it every other time they hung out. 
As she watched Katniss stab a placemat to threaten Haymitch, Y/N felt eyes on her and lifted her head to find Miles watching her with a small smile. 
Returning the stare she could feel the tension as Miles placed his hand on her cheek. Her eyes slipped shut and she leaned into his palm before she felt his lips on hers. Pushing herself into the kiss she was grateful to finally have concrete reciprocation of her feelings. 
However, as she pulled away she only had one question on her mind. “Was that forreal or just to get me off your back?”
He chuckled as if the question was absurd or a joke. He pressed another quick peck to her lips before assuring her.
“This is forreal, ma it’s real.”
After the day she had Y/N couldn’t be sure about much but somehow she knew he wasn’t lying about this. 
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©guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom
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moonpiies · 7 months
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HALLWAY CRUSH
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pairing: e1610!miles morales x black!reader
a/n: this is probably the shortest fic i’ve done🧍🏾‍♀️ part 2 is here !
likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated !
©️moonpiies 2023
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no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t deny the fact that you had a crush on miles morales. he didn’t even know you. he was just a hallway crush but you hoped that it could be more one day.
you were so captivated by him, even though he had no idea of your existence.
you walked up to your locker and saw him talking to one of his classmates a couple feet away from you. you recognized her since you have some of your classes with her.
you watched as he laughed at what she was saying causing his dimples to be shown faintly. you felt a bit jealous wishing it was him laughing at your jokes. you told amazing jokes and hoped that you could one day tell them to him.
the idea of going up to him and striking a conversation was unimaginable. but deep down you knew you probably had a chance with him if you just talked to him. perhaps if you had a class with him it wouldn’t just be a crush?
you sighed and closed your locker after taking out your book for your next class. maybe one day you’ll build up enough courage to speak to him.
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luvjunie · 9 months
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— when the dam breaks
contains: third person pov (42!miles’), no reader, feelings of anxiety, some harsh language, use of the n-word once, a one-sided fight, angst, mentions of grief, brief comfort at the end
summary: miles was holding himself together just fine, until he wasn’t. wc: 2,748
a/n: this fic is based on one of my headcanons from this post,(the 12th one). handling the grief of losing a parent is one of the hardest, most painful things to navigate, especially when you’re a teen and in school. i can directly relate to miles!42 because of this, which is probably why i’m able to go so in depth with his character. i’m really proud of how this turned out so i hope you guys enjoy reading <3
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The back of Ms. Bellam’s history class was Miles’ favorite spot to sit in. The seat by the window, specifically. Where he could gaze out with the fantasy of being anywhere else but stuck listening to the lecture in his fifth block; forced to hear his teacher rave on about some old expedition he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about.
But today, Miles was not in the back of the class.
He had a bad feeling the moment the bell rung and the projector powered on to display the newest assignment the tall, stocky woman had on the agenda; a partnered project. Which, unfortunately, meant a new seating chart was on the horizon.
Miles must’ve spaced out during the introduction of the assignment, but his teacher’s assertive voice brought him back to the very moment he was dreading.
“Cody, you’re paired with—“ Ms. Bellam pulled a small slip of paper out from a little bucket of randomized names on her desk. “—Lauren.”
She ignored the quiet groan she got after unknowingly pairing two exes together and drew two more names. “Bailey, you’re with Lucas.”
“Sarah, you’re with… Faith. And Miles,” The brunette-haired teacher stuck her hand into the bucket once more to pull out the very last slip of paper, and read it with finality. “You’re with Gabby.”
Miles lifted his head and did a quick scan of the faces around, until he met the eyes of his new partner, Gabby, who gave him a small wave from the front of the class. His jaw clenched at the realization that he’d have to give up his safe corner, since the seats around him were filled, while the one next to her was open.
“Alright everyone, if you’re not already next to your partner, go find them.”
With an inaudible grumble and something along the lines of ‘i hate this fucking class’ and a mix of ‘kill me now’— Miles rose from his chair, snatched his backpack up with a little too much force, and crossed the classroom to plop down defeatedly next to the girl he was paired with.
Chin tucked in his hand and eyes glued to the ticking clock above the white board, he didn’t know how long he sat like that, or how much valuable information he’d missed while he ignored the overly peppy, thirty-year old’s directions to the class. But he did know that the minute hand on that damn analog device wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking. The droning of voices overlapping and the bouncing of ideas filled the once silent air after instructions had been given, but Miles was far from focused on the task at hand.
The incessant tapping of his pencil against the hard plastic of his desk, matched with the clearly agitated bounce of his leg had his partner stealing experimental glances in his direction— her lips having been licked ample times from the stress of debating on whether to make the difficult decision of speaking to the boy who was clearly not interested in conversation— or even being here at all.
She spoke up anyway. “Um… So most of the other groups have pretty much chosen already. That means we’re left with James Cook, Vasco de Gama, Ferdinand Magellan, or—“
“You can pick for us. I don’t really care which one.” Miles interrupted.
“Oh—“ Gabby blinked. His response was curt, but at least she got one. “Okay then, Ferdinand Magellan.” Flipping through the rubric that had been passed out at some point, she referred to the second page with her index finger. “It says our presentation has to be between six to eight slides, which includes the works cited for our research. So we could do one introduction slide, and maybe about,” she paused to think. “Four?— information slides? And then we could add some fun facts and trivia questions at the end so we can get our class participation points in without too much effort. That cool with you?”
Gabby was a nice girl. She never bothered him, never looked at him weird when he’d come into class late sometimes, and had actually ran through the hallway to return the notebook that fell out of his open backpack just last week. He wasn’t aggravated at her, but more so at the fact that everybody could stare at the back of his head now instead of the other way around, like it was before. It made him self conscious about everything, even down to the way he was sitting in his chair. He could feel a few beams on his back right about now, and adjusted his position slightly.
Miles sighed and reminded himself to respond to her politely. “Uh-huh. Sounds good.”
A voice to his left behind him caught his attention, the voice in question belonging to one of the most obnoxious boys he’d ever had the displeasure of knowing— Ethan Thompson. Someone who always had too much to say and nothing productive or appropriate to add— it usually being something creepy or gross about a girl he wanted to ‘get to know’.
Miles would’ve tuned him out, like he always did, but this time it was impossible. Probably because out of all the conversations regarding the explorers meant to be researched, this one had absolutely nothing to do with history, or even school for that matter.
“Bro, did you hear about what happened to…”
Miles strained to hear as best as he could without moving from his seat, though it was a struggle since Gabby was still talking his ear off to the right of him about who would do what when it came to their workload.
“Miles?”
He ignored her as another voice chimed in, and his back stiffened.
“I know dude, my sister told me about it. Said he was killed in action or somethin’ like that… I just know his mom is crushed. I feel really bad.”
Miles knew people talked about this, he wasn’t dumb. But damn, did they have to do it when he was right there?
Then, there was a laugh.
Miles was confused. He didn’t find anything regarding the topic of their conversation even remotely comical.
“Fuck that,” Ethan quieted his voice, though not quiet enough. “That just means Mrs. Morales is single and up for grabs now.”
It took less than a second for Miles’ blood to simmer to a scalding boil. He held a subtle finger up and quieted Gabby, who was currently asking him about what they should research first.
“Can you give me just… one second?” he asked gently.
Gabby’s words died on her tongue and she gave a muddled nod.
Miles threw his elbow over the back of his chair when his torso whipped around, his eyes glazed with enmity and immediately catching Ethan’s.
“The fuck you just say?”
Ethan froze.
Miles’ tone was lethal, rage lifting the volume above the blurred chattering around, venom spitting from his tongue like he intended to kill the boy with words alone. The speed in which the class fell silent would’ve been humorous had there not been such hostility within the air.
“Miles, language!” Ms. Bellam’s eyes snapped up from her computer screen, her face a picture of disbelief at his unusual vitriol. He was always quiet as a mouse in her class, well behaved above all.
Jaws hung slack, the gazes of the students around darted back and forth between the two boys continuously, the tension in the room palpable.
Miles sat up straighter in his seat, jaw clenched and his patience dwindling. To say he was seething would be a dangerous understatement.
“Nah, nah Ms. B,” His head cocked, and his eyes narrowed at Ethan, ruinously. “I wanna know what this nigga just said ‘bout my fuckin’ mom.”
“Oh shit…” Gabby gulped. Today was the most she’d heard Miles speak in class almost the entire semester.
“It was a joke, bro.” Ethan huffed a chuckle, a nervous thing that his friend easily picked up on. Miles was not one to bluff, and Ethan was notorious for taking things too far.
“Don’t bro me, repeat that dumb shit you just said and watch how fast I knock your ass out.” Miles gritted through his teeth, hot air puffing through his nostrils like a bull who’d just seen red.
“Boys, enough!” Ms. Bellman was standing now, hands planted to her desk as she watched with bated breath, just like the rest of the class-now-turned-audience.
Ethan shrugged, and Miles swore he felt his eye twitch.
Strike one.
Then, the boy playfully nudged his friend’s arm with a cocky smirk, as if he thought the threat he’d just received wasn’t one that would be carried out.
Strike two.
“He’s baiting you, Miles…” Gabby whispered dejectedly, in warning, only so Miles could hear. But his tunnel vision had already set in.
“Go ‘head. Repeat yourself.” Miles demanded.
Nails digging into the skin of his palms hard enough to leave crescents in their wake, there was a voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that he could get into serious trouble if he didn’t get his emotions in check, fast. He’d progressed so quickly in his after school M.M.A classes, that now, even getting into a simple fist fight could land him a serious assault charge. A judge would take one look at the history of his intense training, and the option to deem his hands as deadly weapons in the case would immediately be presented, and most likely acted upon.
Knocking the teeth out of a rich white boy would never be the smart decision here, especially not for someone who looked the way he did.
He’d be sent straight to juvie.
“I mean, all I was sayin’ is, technically—“ Ethan threw his hands up in a careless manner. “If I play my cards right, I could be your future step-daddy.”
Strike three.
Ms. Bellam was yelling now. “Ethan, principal’s office, now!”
And that probably would’ve been the better option, had he actually had a choice.
Miles’ movements were swift when he shot out of his seat, and the students in his way followed suit with yelps and gasps as they quickly removed themselves from the area. The desks blocking his pathway to pummeling the shit out of this kid loudly screeched against the school’s tile when they were shoved out of the way, and the one he’d mindlessly flipped over in his stampede proceeded to erupt the room into pure pandemonium.
One punch would’ve been good enough, Miles knew that. But in this moment, thinking rationally was so far out of his reach he would’ve missed it even if he’d jumped for it. He’d swung a closed fist to Ethan’s jaw and knocked him to the floor with ease, then followed him down, sat on his chest and had the boy’s arms pinned under his knees so he couldn’t protect his snobby-ass face. One punch would’ve been good enough, but just two vehement blows later, the satisfying crack of a bone that wasn’t his under Miles’ knuckles had him sending a few more into the reddened face of the boy beneath him, just to really get his point across.
“Jesus Christ— Miles!” Ms. Bellman scrambled from her seat in a panic and rushed to fling the classroom’s door open, her desperate yells directed to anyone who might’ve been strolling the hallways. “We need security in here! You-!” She pointed to a student with a bathroom pass. “Go get security, and tell them to come to room 205, now! Go!”
Everyone was yelling at once, but Miles couldn’t hear anything other than the ringing of rage in his ears. Anger is only grief turned sour— a terribly perilous thing to leave untreated.
Some of his classmates were frozen with shock, or fear, maybe— hands clasped over their gaped mouths while others had their phones out with the camera app open—vampires for some good drama while they hooted and hollered at the most exciting thing they’d seen this entire year.
“That’s enough!”
Strong arms suddenly hooked under Miles’ armpits and prevented his fist from worsening the damage already done. Two male teachers from neighboring classrooms had rushed in and yanked him up and off Ethan, his hips bucking as he kicked his way up onto his feet. Miles’ chest expanded and collapsed with the weight of his heaving breaths, face flushed with the remnants of his lost temper as he directed his attention to Ethan’s friend, who looked like a deer in headlights.
“When your boy wake up, tell him watch his mouth next time!”
Miles didn’t know why he was yelling. It was common knowledge that it’s pretty rare for someone who’s unconscious to understand what you’re saying to them.
He didn’t struggle when the two teachers dragged him away, but when they shoved him out the door and into the hall with more force than he thought necessary, he snatched his arms away from their grasp with a rolled shrug, and huffed a frustrated grunt about how he knew how to walk on his own.
The drive home was eerily silent. The radio hadn’t been touched, and neither had Miles by his mother’s gaze the moment they’d left the principal’s office after he received his verdict.
Out of school suspension. One week.
It was the best the administrative staff could do after Rio swallowed her pride and went as low as begging them not to expel her boy.
Slumped in the passenger seat with his hands in his lap, Miles didn’t bother to look at the bruises he knew were forming on his knuckles. It was a familiar feeling, and at the moment he was more concerned with why it felt like his throat had been stuffed with cotton when he tried to talk.
“Mamá, I—“
“Do not. Speak.” Rio’s breath wavered, her hands clutching the wheel so hard she thought she’d crush it. She tried not to let her voice break. “Not one word.”
Silence.
It all settled in as they climbed the stairwell, the images of what just happened flashing back in his mind every time he blinked; what he’d done playing over and over again in a continuous loop. The wooden railings creaked under the weight of his mother’s hand, and as she knowingly skipped the one that had weakened over the years, he knew the home that held every single emotion he tried to leave behind when he went to school was now just a few steps up.
Rio’s key twisted in the lock before she opened the door, and Miles followed behind her, shoulders slouched dispiritedly. He resembled something of a stray puppy; desperate for attention, but acceptant and grateful that it, as much of a nuisance as it may be, was being tolerated enough to stay on it’s finder’s heels.
He thought being scolded by his mother was bad, but the lack thereof was even worse. Her brows were clenched, and her conflicted yet somehow blank expression told him that she truly did not have any words for him as she leaned on the kitchen counter, hands clasped firmly around the edge so tightly her knuckles paled. She didn’t even know where to start, and Miles didn’t blame her. He refused to explain why he’d snapped when it was asked of him. When his mother’s widened eyes had pleaded with him to tell the principal what happened in that classroom that set him off in such a way, he didn’t. He had no reason not to, at least one he could think of right now, but his voice just wouldn’t allow it. Both in that office, and now in their kitchen, dimly lit by the warm light above the stove, the weight of his mother’s disappointment clung to the suffocating silence, like a fish to a hook and he just couldn’t take it anymore.
“Mamá, I’m sorry.” He whispered in a quick breath, the lump in his throat painful when he swallowed it.
“Good money, Miles.” Rio shook her head, a hand coming up to rest over the rise and fall of her chest. “Good money! We paid good money to get you into that school, your dad and I. I work hard to keep you there and you just—“
Dad.
And the dam broke. Though its foundation wasn’t very strong to begin with— Miles’ shoulders crumbled under the weight of his actions and his tears flooded past his waterline with choked sobs that left no room for air.
Whatever Rio was going to say had been forgotten. The sight of her son sobbing in a way she hadn’t seen since the night they’d received the news immediately put a stop to her reprimanding. Now, she was truly worried.
“Oh Miles, come come come,” She hastily tugged him into a hug and wrapped him firmly in her arms, her hands repeatedly rubbing up and down the expanse of his back. “¿Qué es Mijo? (what is it, son?) Talk to me. No te lo guardes, ¿recuerda?” (no holding it in, remember?)
Miles could barely catch his breath, and somehow talking about it was just as painful as the ache that resided deep in his chest.
“I—It was Dad, it was about—“ a quick breath in split his sentence in half. “About Dad. He was—talking about what ha—happened and I—“ Miles tried for another, but it caught in his throat, ragged and choppy and had his ribcage stuttering from the lousy attempt to cease his hyperventilating. The fact that he couldn’t get his words out uninterrupted only frustrated him more; only made him cry harder. He scrubbed at his tears with the back of his hand, but it was no use. He couldn’t stop crying. Why couldn’t he stop crying?
“He said—“ Another wilted inhale, and a hiccup. “It was abo—about you, and it was terrible and I— I just, I got so angry, and I tried Mamá, I did. But I couldn’t and—and then I was on him and I’m sorry—“
“Shh, shh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Rio used a hand to bring his head into her shoulder, his cries muffled and his tears wetting the sleeve of her blouse as his rambling came to a halt. Miles clutched onto her tightly, arms round her waist as he fell apart in front of the woman who’d tried her best to piece him back together.
“Respira, Mijo, respira… (breathe).” Rio whispered. “Please.” Seeing her son so distraught had brought on tears of her own, but she shut her eyes, and tucked away her own feelings so she could focus on his. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”
“But you’re mad at me, I don’t want you to be mad at me—“
Rio shook her head and tutted at him. “I’m not mad at you, papa. I understand. Okay? I’m not angry. No.” She couldn’t be upset with him for something like this, not when he could barely shelter himself from his own guilt.
“It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.” Miles was inconsolable as Rio continued rubbing his back, and her voice shook when she spoke, but she kept the uncertainty she held within her heart concealed from her promise to him.
“We’re going to be okay.”
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rere9500-18 · 6 months
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Miles and his abandonment issues/not wanting to be alone.
Something I’ve always thought about Miles was that he has abandonment issues. This clip here is only a scene that shows apart of that.
Gwen’s “I’ll never see him again” makes him panic, with not seeing her or Peter or anyone of his spider friends for a year or so now. Hearing that from Gwen alone probably is what mainly encouraged him to jump through that portal and follow her. Because if that portal closed, there’s a big possibility he’d really never see her again.
Even in the second half of the video where Miles is walking to his dorm/new school and he walks past his old school with everyone he knew chatting it up with him as he passes. It’s clear while Miles attended that school, he’s been friends, or at least acquaintances, with a lot of the people there. He has and still does leave an impact on them, if it wasn’t noticeable by the amount of people simply happy to see him walk by.
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At the end of it, the last girl asking how the new school is and that they all miss him, Miles responds with a “Wait… you miss me?” with a smile on his face. Now, I’ve seen some of the comments on that bit on YouTube and it’s mostly people thinking it’s Miles being cute with the ladies, but I don’t believe that’s what that was at all.
It’s clear to see Miles is cool with most people in that scene; of course keeping in mind he’s spent time with them at some point in his life if they are telling him they miss him. That little smile Miles had and the question that followed was an exact reaction to truly realizing that nobody at his old school has forgotten him, nor intend to, in theory, leave him anytime soon. It’s that warm feeling of knowing that maybe you truly do have people by your side. It’s actually a little intense with Miles since I think he sort of needs that feeling more than you’d usually need it.
Whether it be his mom, his dad, his uncle (RIP Uncle Aaron 😔), or the spiders who he thought were his friends.
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That’s why it hurts so much when they’re taken away from him. Either by death or because of needing to pick a side. Because that warm feeling slowly turns into dread that no one’s by his side anymore. That the people he love may not love him anymore. That he may have to face something he’s been trying to hide from: being alone.
Because being alone means you’ll have no one to care for. Being alone means no one’s gonna give you their warmth when you’re in the freezing cold. Being alone means you’ll be left in the dark by yourself with no one to encourage you to break out and run free.
Miles followed Gwen to avoid having to be alone, like he was for the past year after she and the other spider-people left. Because, while it doesn’t make it right to follow someone and then go invisible to see what they’re doing, he wouldn’t have ever known this would have been the last time he’d see his best friend if he hadn’t followed.
At the end of the movie though, I feel that Miles is put at an even harder spot due to him trying to prevent his father’s death. He wanted to be with the rest of the spider people so badly that it blinded him to the fact it wasn’t all it seemed to be cracked out to be. At the end of the movie, all Miles wants is to go home. Yes, it hurts to lose everyone you’ve worked so hard to see, but in his mind, if the people you call your friends can’t understand that it’s fucked up to let an innocent person die, his dad no less, for a so-called ‘greater good’, then maybe that warm feeling of them being by his side isn’t what he wants right now.
Miles feels betrayed by Peter B., Gwen, and most importantly, by himself because he soon realizes that he was so determined not to lose them again, that he never realized he’s lost himself in the process. Gwen, Peter, and everyone else basically said (through their actions) that they’ll never see Miles again. Who is Miles to stop them?
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He doesn’t care what happens afterwards. He just wants to go home, HIS home, and stop the one thing that will truly make him deeply and utterly alone.
The death of Aaron and Miles being Spiderman only encourages Miles to want to do these things. He wanted to surround himself with people he can trust, but he soon realizes those relationships can die, either by actual death or by lies and secrets.
Idk. This is all just my view of what Miles feels even in Into the Spiderverse. If you’ve finished reading all this, idk; eat a cookie or something.
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parkerflix · 11 months
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—corazón despeinado
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miles morales x gn! reader
genre: fluff?? angst???
wc: 1.7k
part two here
synopsis: your friendship with miles seemed to hit a sore spot. the reason? his hair.
warnings: atsv spoilers! like big spoilers! canon divergence (miguel would hate me sorry bae)
a/n: this is earth 42! miles! just put it under here since i put the warning okay read at your own discretion from here on!
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“Ow! Que te pasa? That shit hurt, mami.” Miles sat forward, rubbing his scalp.
You sighed and rolled your eyes. Miles Morales was such a baby when it came to doing his hair. You loved doing his hair, and him letting you have full control of it, but hated how much he flinched.
“No jodas. I barely even pulled it. If you would sit still, maybe we could finish this faster.”
Miles grumbled under his breath and he sat back in the chair, wincing when you started up again.
You had been doing Miles’ hair for years, Rio being your mom’s best friend. You guys spent summers and most weekends together, always having some sort of party. Your mom owned the neighborhood beauty salon & had been showing the ropes to you.
Miles always came to you when he wanted his hair done, or if he just wanted to see you.
“So, what’s the plan for tonight? Got a steamy date?”
Miles rolled his eyes.
“A date?”
“Yeah, a steamy date with some beautiful woman or man! Or romantic, a nice stroll on the street, the sky full of stars, going to a nice dinner.”
“Ya tu sabes, I’m not the type who does those types of dates.”
“Oh, so it is a date?”
“Mira, I don’t think there’s anyone I would date.”
You reached down in your apron to grab a hair tie to finish one of his braids.
“And why is that?”
You were so focused on his braids, that you didn’t notice his eyes staring at your face through the mirror.
Miles knew that he wasn’t into anyone the way he was into you. He wasn’t sure if you knew that he liked you. Miles thought it was fairly obvious, he gave you little gifts that he knew you would like, and spent most of his time with you. His mom had pretty much adopted you into his family, showing you how to make his favorites like mofongo & empanadas. For someone so bright, you seemed to not catch the hints he threw at you.
His silence caught you off guard & you stared at him through the mirror, a little surprised to see he was already staring at you.
“Miles?”
He seemed to snap out of whatever train of thought and sent you a half-hearted grin.
“Enough about me. What about you? Any plans?”
You shook your head, laughing slightly.
“Nah. Te recuerdas de ese guy que salí con like ages ago?”
Miles hummed as a signal for you to go on.
“Well, he asked me out again and as much as I loved the first date, I just wanted to spend the night by myself. Nothing sounds better than a cheesy movie & takeout.”
Before he could say anything else, you finished his last braid and tied it off.
“Ya terminé. What do you think?”
Miles got up from the chair and glanced at himself in the mirror, admiring your work.
“It looks good.”
You clapped your hands and gave him a hug.
“I’m so glad you like them! I know they’re a little different than usual but I thought they suit you.”
He nodded and gave you a small smile.
You were about to say something, when his phone went off.
“Girlfriend texting you?”
He rolled his eyes and pulled his phone from his jacket, seeing his uncle ask him where he was.
“Ya te dije, I don’t have anyone like that. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow?”
You nodded and started to clean your station, hoping if you finished early you could leave.
Miles placed a chaste kiss on your cheek & made his way towards the door.
“I’ll take you out for breakfast tomorrow!”
He walked out of the door, leaving you smiling and shaking your head at how cute he could be sometimes.
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You had left the salon late in the afternoon, taking a few of your mother’s clients while she handled a few other clients. You weren’t licensed just yet, but you knew you had the skills and experience to get your license as soon as you finished high school.
Your mom had some more clients after you had left & told you she wouldn’t be home tonight as she was planning on having a girls night with a few of her friends.
You had finally got home & changed into a shirt and shorts, ready to just relax and watch some movies. Rummaging through the fridge, you realized that you actually did have to order takeout, since there was nothing already made.
Checking the time, you figured you could swing by the local pizzeria, and stop by the supermarket for some ice cream. Grabbing your bag, you slipped on some easy shoes and made sure to lock the door.
At the pizzeria, you had ordered your food, and were just waiting. Sitting at one of the booths, you were slightly confused when you heard Miles’ voice come from the counter.
You turned to take a peek, and saw Miles there with a completely different outfit, and most noticeably, his braids were gone.
You were annoyed, his braids took you some time & he had already taken them out. If he really hated them, why didn’t he just tell you?
Going up to him, you tapped his shoulder.
He turned around and saw you, giving you a confused look.
“No me das esa cara, si no te gustaron, you know I would’ve changed them!”
Miles gave you an even more confused look, and started to really piss you off.
“Okay, why are you giving me that look? Seriously if you didn’t like the braids, I would’ve fixed them.”
“Braids? Do you have me mistaken for someone else?”
“Your name is Miles Morales, right?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Then no, I’m not mistaken. God why weren’t you just upfront about it with me? I would’ve done whatever you wanted, you know that.”
“Uh—“
“What? Are you too cool for them?”
“No I just—“
“I bet you do have a hot date huh! That’s what it is.”
“Hot date? Definitely not. I am so confused.” Miles said, awkwardly scratching the nape of his neck.
The guy at the counter called your name, and you pointed to Miles.
“Stay here. We aren’t done talking about this.”
You rushed up to the counter, and grabbed your pie, thanking him and ran back to Miles, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him with you.
Once outside, you dragged him to your apartment building, stopping at the stairs, placing your pizza box there.
“What’s going on with you?”
Miles just stared at you, not sure how to tell you that he wasn’t who you thought he was.
“I’m sorry.”
You sighed and frowned. Miles rarely apologized, even when he had done something. He had always sweet-talked you into not being mad at him, knowing that you had a soft spot for him.
“An apology? That’s a first. Miles, I just wanna know what’s been going on with you. You make plans with people and don’t tell me who, which like yeah I guess I’m not entitled to that information but—” you were cut off when he hugged you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and stayed like that for a second. You knew Miles. He wasn’t a PDA sort of person and he wasn’t big on hugs either. He wasn’t telling you something, and it seemed to weigh heavy on him.
Before you knew it, he had unraveled himself from you and you both were standing away from each other.
“I’m sorry. I’m sure this will all make sense eventually but I really gotta go.”
He gave you a look that you couldn’t decipher and left you, pizza still on the steps, getting cold.
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You didn’t hear from Miles until the next morning, knocking at your window.
You groaned and threw a pillow in that direction, knowing it probably missed.
The knocking kept going, so you got up and went to open the window not even sparing Miles a glance.
You trudged your way back into bed, making space for the both of you. He laid down next to you, having a debate if he should pull you close to him.
“Amor, what’s wrong?”
“Be quiet. I'm still trying to sleep.”
Miles let out a huff and poked your side.
“Miles, leave me alone.”
“Que hice?”
“What do you mean ‘que hice?’ We talked about this. If you didn’t listen to me at all then why are—”
You turned to face him, quickly realizing the small space in between the two of you.
You stared at his face, the sunlight giving him a soft glow. His eyes even were a different shade of brown, turning more like pools of milk chocolate. But what stood out to you the most, was his hair, in braids, neatly as if they were never out of them.
How was that possible? You saw him the night before and he didn’t have them. What was happening?
Miles called your name and you blinked, face feeling flushed at your gawking.
“You have your braids.”
He gave you a confused look.
“Yeah?”
“But last night you didn’t.”
“Last night? I don’t remember seeing you last night.”
“You’re joking right? I saw you and we talked and you left in a hurry.”
You sat up and sighed, confused and frustrated as to why he wouldn’t remember this.
“Are you sure it was me?”
You stared at him. Why did he have to say it in such a condescending tone?
“Yes, Miles. It was you.”
“It couldn’t have been me.”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“Maybe a bit delusional. Guess you missed me that much.”
You were beyond frustrated now, and got out of bed.
Without a word, you pulled him out of bed and walked him over to your window.
“What— seriously que te hice?”
Crossing your arms, you looked away from him.
“The fact that you don’t even remember our conversation yesterday, and the fact that you’re acting like it never happened and you weren’t being weird— I can’t.”
“You can't do what?” Miles' voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat.
“I can't do this right now. You should go.”
“But-“
“Miles.” you whispered his name, feeling so many different emotions. He knew that you had made up your mind and pressed a kiss onto your forehead.
With that, he climbed out of your room and went down the fire escape.
You sat in your room, confused by everything and feeling something new, something like a heartache in your chest.
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mintkookiess · 10 months
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It's Always Been Her.
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A/N before anything else: Hey there I'm Mint! I finally got the guts to actually post something instead of keeping it in my private blog sue me (╯•﹏•╰)
Felt a bit angsty today and I've been practicing more on my writing so, I decided why not post it
Please also note the characters here are aged up, none are minors, and Miles and our dear lovely fem!reader here are old enough to live together (Feel free to think up what age you want esp since there isn't really an age stated her). Plus, this has only been proof-read like twice and ran through grammarly once, hope it turned out okay still with the grammar and typos ಥ‿ಥ
Anyways enough about that, you can go ahead! Hearts and reblogs are appreciated
(Pls be nice ty)
Love,
Mint
P.S. AO3 saw it first here!
Summary: Y/n finds Miles comforting his ex girlfriend Gwen in their home.
Word count: 2.6k
Tags: Miles Morales x Fem!Reader Slight mention of blood (those are paper cuts I promise), angst (no happy ending babe), heartbreak, cutting up onions .°(ಗ д ಗ。)°.
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"Y/n...?" Miles looked as if he had just seen a ghost, "How long have you been—" She hadn’t even realized how she stood by the door, crying with her mouth covered, her other hand clutching her aching chest, until he noticed her.
"Miles..." Y/n managed to choke out, her voice barely a whisper as she looked at her supposed lover Miles, comforting Gwen on the floor of their shared home's living room. Her eyes were filled with absolute sorrow, betrayal, hurt, anger, and anguish all rolled into one. She stood there helplessly, feet seemingly glued to the ground even if her brain has been telling her to run.
But she couldn't seem to look away or move a single inch as the tears continued to flow down like a stream down her cheeks that have turned pale from shock. Miles was rendered speechless, he had never seen Y/n like this, and he hadn't seen her cry much either.
"Y/n..." He said with a weak voice, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he slowly unwrapped his arms from Gwen, standing up to take a step towards her. He knew he should come to her, to hug her, comfort her, tell her it's okay but he couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. His hands trembled as he looked into her eyes. Y/n could see the fear and regret in them.
"What... What are you doing with her?" She croaked, still in a tone that made her voice sound like the harsh cold wind of winter. Y/n had watched Miles comfort Gwen for the past thirty minutes, and all she could do was see how vulnerable they were to each other, how Miles' comforting voice that felt so much like caramel soothed his ex-girlfriend who had been weeping like a deer in his chest.
It was another sense of betrayal and hurt, a whole new level of pain that Y/n couldn't even begin to explain. No words could describe how... broken she felt.
"She's... She's having.." he started, before pausing, trying to configure the right words to say to her—"She's having a hard time right now." He finally finished, his voice sounding weak. All Y/n did was stare right at him, tears still rolling down her eyes.
Seeing her cry made him want to do anything—to hug her, comfort her, and just say “Everything’s fine. I'm sorry, please stop crying, I love you." Miles didn't know what to do, it seemed as if he couldn't stop her from crying and it broke him.
Y/n started to let out small sobs from her lips that had dried and cracked from letting out so many tears. Her hands crept up to her face, trying to see if she could wake up from this dream that's become her new hell.
She was shaking her head slightly, shoulders sagging more and more as she felt all her patience thin out like paper. "You promised... You told me that you don't talk to her anymore." Y/n said slowly, her words slightly muffled from her hands.
Oh, how she tried so hard to not have her voice crack, even though she could hear her heart break into a million pieces per second.
Upon hearing her words, Miles visibly flinched. He looked down at his feet as if he was suddenly ashamed of himself. His head tilted back up to her, his eyes filled with shame. Miles stood there frozen, a few feet away from her, unable to bring himself to approach or move a single inch.
It was as if he wanted to make it up to her, but he was too scared, too fearful of what would happen. "Y/n..." The way he said her name was like it was a silent prayer, a plea. "I'm... sorry..."
After a few more tears, she removed her hands from her face. Her head hung low, but her eyes looked up at Miles with newly found determination and courage but still with a tinge of fear and hurt.
"You still love her."
Her words itself may have downright punched her heart as she could feel it gets beaten up and shatter, falling to the depths of her very soul. She didn't want to utter what she had been thinking since she saw the way Miles comforted Gwen with so much love that she thought was only reserved for her. Y/n feared that once she said it out loud, it would become real.
But deep down she knew that this had become her reality, whether she said it or not.
Miles felt like he was stabbed at every syllable, how deep her words wounded him. Yet he had to admit that the truth in what she said made them all the more gut-wrenching.
He looked away from her, trying to gather some little courage before facing Y/n once more. Miles' brown eyes bore into hers, two pairs of eyes containing remorse, regret, and betrayal. "Yes..." He finally answered, the weight of his guilt dragging every word down with him.
The second he confirmed her statement, it was as if her vision went black. "Thank you... for your honesty." Was all she could say.
Y/n's feet may weigh a thousand pounds right now, but she forced herself, dragging herself out the door. The only thing that she could think of was that she had to get away.
To run.
To hide.
To go to a place where Miles wouldn't find her.
His simple “ yes “ reply was enough to tell her that she was no longer wanted or needed. She felt herself to be a burden, someone holding back Miles from truly loving Gwen. Even though he had made promises to her, that he'd keep his and Y/n's relationship safe and out of harm.
As she started to walk away, Miles' heart severed apart with each step she took. He had never felt so lost, so scared, as he did right now. He hasn't even spared Gwen a glance behind him as he tried to take another step towards the direction Y/n disappeared to.
She walked away from him and he could only watch. All he wanted was to ask her to stay, to forgive him. He didn't want to lose Y/n, but he was too scared to act, fearing that it would make matters worse than it already was.
If that was even possible.
Y/n turned right towards their shared bedroom, her eyes sticking to the ground because she refused to take in the sight of the many pictures of her and Miles scattered around the walls and tables of the bedroom.
She made a beeline to the closet, pulled out luggage, and just threw in all the clothes she owned, every accessory in their shared drawers, and every perfume that decorated the vanity.
Y/n was slowly removing every trace of her in the bedroom.
Once she was done, she zipped the luggage close, and stomped to their framed pictures, their polaroids that were clipped to the walls, everything that had the both of them in it, and started throwing them across the tiled floor. She didn't let out a single scream, letting the picture frames break to make all the noise for her as she couldn't let out any noise.
Every time it shattered against the polished floor, her heart broke along with it.
Y/n continued to break and rip every picture, tears streaming hot down her cheek, dripping off her chin, and staining the dissipated pictures and smashed frames by her feet.
Miles stood there, his heart in his throat, hearing the sounds of glass smashing and wooden picture frames hitting the floor. He didn't move, though it hurt to hear that, and seeing the pictures being destroyed hurt even more.
He knew he should do something, he knew he should call out to her—but he was too much of a coward. He watched her destroy everything that held memories of their now-broken relationship.
Once everything was laid out on the floor either broken or ripped to shreds, Y/n fell to her knees, her hands covered in deep cuts as it started to bleed out from how hard her grip was while smashing the frames and destroying the pictures.
But she could only stare, her soulless eyes glazing over her two hands that had so much resemblance to her emotional and mental state. All wounded and cut up, bleeding for the whole world to see.
Her fingers shook ever so slightly, her perfectly manicured nails were now tinted a crimson shade from her blood, and all she could do was stare.
She didn't even feel any pain.
Miles finally snapped out of it, letting out a pained gasp as he sees her lacerated hands. He knew he had to do something and so he tried to walk to her, taking each step as if they were as heavy as lead weights. "Y/n... please... stop... you've hurt yourself..." He said as tears made their way down his face once again.
It was as if Y/n didn't hear him even though she did. She refused to respond, picking up the little pieces of the pictures she destroyed and examining them with her bloodied hands.
Every picture she saw, each one was of them that stared back at her with wide smiles. So much life, so much love and passion.
Now look at them. Look at how they ended up.
It was so pathetic that she thought it was laughable. How could their picture-perfect relationship turn into something so hideous, so ugly? Her mind was on constant replay of the way Miles' arms were wrapped around Gwen, whispering sweet nothings to her as she cried uncontrollably against him.
"Why did you do this to us Miles? We were doing so good..." She muttered. Y/n's face no longer held any sadness or... Any emotion. She was just there, kneeling on the floor with her cut-up hands and body staying still like she became a doll devoid of feelings.
"Y/n—" He started, his voice quiet and unsure. Miles continued to inch closer and closer to her, though it was clear he did so with caution. "I know that right now it may be hard for you to believe me, but... I'm sorry... I didn't mean for things to go this far I swear..." Miles whispered with quivering lips. He was trying so hard to remain composed, but he could feel his emotions overflow and take over his entire body.
He continued towards her until he was inches in front of Y/n, his heart practically beating out of his chest and with hands that were mad trembling.
"Y/n... Please don't leave me..." His voice convulsed in guilt. Miles knelt to be at her eye level, to beg for her forgiveness. He didn't care that the frame shards were probing his knees. He eyed her injured hands, reaching his hands toward her as if he was trying to stop her from leaving him forever.
But he could sense it. They both could. It was the end for the two of them.
Y/n was too tired, too exhausted to push his hands away. She remained in her spot as she felt walls around herself build-up, her soul fading further away from reality, causing her to be numb. Her eyes drifted to the hands that belonged to him, she couldn't help but remember how these same hands were the place she called her safe space for so many years.
Now, she thinks of it as the hands that had ruined her ruined them.
She sees the hands that had comforted someone who wasn't her, another girl who wasn't even supposed to be in their lives anymore. "Go to her Miles..." She whispered weakly, still refusing to look at him.
Miles' breath hitched, and his face paled at the words that came out of her mouth. "Y/n... no..." he tried to say something, to make her stay, anything. There were so many words on his tongue that he wished to utter out, but he didn't have the courage or strength to say a single one.
He wanted to say how much he loved her, but he knew that Y/n was drifting further away from him with each passing second.
So Miles did the only thing he could and stared at her, with a face frozen with shame and fear.
His words slowly snapped her out of her trance, like a spell that seemed to have awoken her back to reality.
She slowly pushed herself up, wiping down her hands on her skirt to remove the remaining blood that hadn't dried out. Her e/c eyes finally looked down at Miles, kneeling before her.
Y/n felt her blood boil at how pathetic he looked. She wondered how he could look in such a way when he was the one at fault, who practically shredded their relationship into pieces the moment he let Gwen inside their home.
"Go to her Miles," She repeated with a more stern voice. Her breathing started to become heavier with all the anger inside of her threatening to spill over. "That's what you wanted anyway right?" Y/n said a bit louder now. "It's her! It's always been fucking her right?!" She was yelling, each word leaving a strain on her throat and a bad taste on her tongue.
Her hands balled into fists, feeling the sting of her nails digging into her new cuts and wounds but she didn't give two shits about it right now.
The fire in her eyes scared Miles. He started to hyperventilate, his chest tightening and feeling his lungs scream in search of air. Her voice was laced with so much malice and hatred that it scared him. “Y/n, please... I—" His words were getting tangled, and they were sounding more and more like a mess.
"It's always been her. No matter how many fucking times I tried to be perfect for you, to be the best woman for you. It was never fucking enough because I WASN'T HER!" Y/n cried out, her hand clutching her chest so hard that she thought she would dig into her skin and her heart would bleed out.
She was heaving alongside him, their chests rising up and down in sync. Her every word tasted sour to her like each syllable was a dart of poison that was stabbing her insides and gutting her out. Miles flinched as her words pierced through him.
It was his fault, and he knew it. It hurt him to see the person he had come to love, hate him. He knew he deserved the anger, the hate, and he just felt himself hit rock bottom.
How could he do that to her?
To destroy her trust?
Gwen had wanted to talk to him about something and started telling him about her problems. He wanted to be there for her, but not realizing that he was jeopardizing his relationship with Y/n until it was too late. Some of his heart still belonged to Gwen, but god did he wish it didn't.
"Well, you should be fine now though, right? You can go back to her because I'm leaving." Y/n said with a newfound calm tone. She walked past him to grab her luggage, wincing in pain from her wounds as she pulled them out of their bedroom, leaving Miles in the heap of ripped-up pictures and broken frames.
She also walked past Gwen who was sitting silently in the living room.
She tried to approach Y/n, but the wounded girl was quick to walk out the door, slamming it behind her as she disappeared into the night, leaving the place she'd called theirs for the last five years.
But now, it wasn't her home anymore.
Fin.
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See more of my Miles content here babes!
(if yall wanna be on my taglist feel free to let me know!)
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tvgals · 10 months
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all da pretty bihs who like miles e42 rappers gf type girls like they wan that gangster glory boy type shi yfm
i think ik what this means so i’m gonna give it a shot 🙏
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS —
— definitely one of those niggas that’s like “yeah my bitch do what i say” and then he begs for ur forgiveness bc he knows his momma taught him better and that he knows better 😭
miles was on the game, his headset on so he didn’t know that you were in the presence of him, and he said some real bad things 😒.
“nahhh my bitch be listening to me. just told her ass to buy me some chipotle and that’s what she did.” miles chuckled. you were standing in the doorway with a big ass chipotle bag in your hand. you threw the bag as hard as you could at his back, miles letting out a gruff “what the fuck?” and turning around to see your back. shit. “yooo i’ll be back.” miles says, turning his mic off and running after you. “baby come here-“ miles says, reaching out for your hand. you snatch it away and look miles up and down. “i’m yo baby now? i was just the bitch you call around to get you some food.” you said. grabbing your phone out your back pocket. miles runs a hand down his face and sighs.
“i ain’t mean it. i was showing out.” miles confesses, pulling you into his body by your waist. “nah, you got that shit. keep showing out for yo’ lil friends.” you say, pushing miles off of you and walking out the door.
he royally fucked up.
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