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iirenics · 2 years ago

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𝑤𝑒𝑏 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠.

↳ pairing : (earth 1610) miles morales x female reader ↳ summary : When your best friend is New York's superhero, concerns and unspoken feelings cloud your heart. In a heart-to-heart on a city rooftop and a swing through the night sky, your bond with Miles takes an unexpected turn, steering your friendship into uncharted territory. ↳ authors note : i hope you guys enjoy !! i came up with this random scenario myself :) kissing sort of angst & fluff ???

Brooklyn Visions Academy was buzzing like a beehive. The latest rumor about Spider-Man's real identity being exposed was the hot topic among the students. You were sitting next to Miles in your shared History class, trying to maintain a casual demeanor as the speculation whirled around you.

Jake, a particularly boisterous student, stood up confidently, claiming to know Spider-Man's identity. Your heart raced and you exchanged a quick glance with Miles. His dark eyes met yours, a glint of worry reflecting your own. The entire class fell into hushed anticipation as Jake said a name – the wrong name. The class burst out laughing at Jake's absurd guess, and you and Miles shared a hidden sigh of relief.

Turning to look at Miles, a particular memory resurfaced in your mind, painting your shared past in vivid colors.

"Miles, is this… Are you… Spider-Man?" You recalled your disbelieving whisper, standing in the hidden corner of your shared childhood playground. It was a couple of months ago, not too long, but it felt like yesterday.

"Yes, (y/n). I trust you, more than anyone." His voice was soft, sincere.

In that moment, you became more than friends. You were allies, entrusted with a shared secret that felt as heavy as the city that Spider-Man vowed to protect.

Walking home together from school, a cool breeze picked up, rustling through the autumn leaves. The conversation was initially casual, filled with light banter about the crazy theories your classmates had about Spider-Man. The air was relaxed, the laughter genuine. However, a niggling worry gnawed at the back of your mind, which gradually began seeping into your voice.

"Miles," you began, your tone shifting, "we need to talk about last night."

He instantly stiffened, his laughter dying abruptly. "What about it?" He tried to keep his voice casual, but the slight tremor gave him away.

"The bank robbery, Miles," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, "It was reckless. You could've gotten hurt…or worse."

He remained silent, his jaw clenched. His eyes were stormy, filled with conflict and a defiant spark that hadn't been there before.

"And what about your parents, Miles?" You pressed on, feeling a pang in your chest. "Have you ever thought about what losing you would do to them?"

Miles stopped in his tracks, a grimace spreading across his face. "That's not fair, (y/n)," he retorted sharply. "I'm trying to protect this city, to do something good."

"Good?" You echoed, your voice rising in disbelief. "What good is there in risking your life like that? How good will it be for your parents if they lose you?"

"You don't understand, (y/n)." His voice was hard, his words coming out in a rush. "This is who I am now."

"No, I don't understand, Miles," you shot back, anger flaring in your eyes. "I don't understand how you can be so… careless with your life."

His eyes flashed with irritation. "Well, maybe you're not meant to understand, (y/n). Maybe you're not cut out for this life."

Your heart throbbed painfully at his harsh words, and you took a step back, a mix of shock and hurt on your face. "Well, maybe I'm not, Miles," you retorted, your voice shaking. "And maybe you should think about who you're hurting in your quest to be a hero."

With those words, you turned on your heel and stormed off, leaving a stunned Miles behind. "Wait!" He called after you, but you didn't turn back. The shared laughter from minutes ago now felt like a distant memory, replaced by a cold silence that mirrored the tension between you and Miles.

Arriving home, your face was a storm of emotions. Tossing your bag onto the floor, you sighed heavily. Your parents, sitting in the living room, noticed your arrival and your mother looked up from her book, concern etching her features.

"Honey, what's wrong?" your mother asked, her voice full of worry.

"It's nothing," you muttered, attempting to brush it off. However, the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Your father, reading the daily newspaper, put it down and took off his glasses. "We just got off the phone with your principal," he began, his voice steady but stern. "He said your grades are slipping."

Heat rushed to your face and you clenched your fists. Of course, they would bring up your grades now. When your mind was a whirlwind of worry and frustration, they chose to talk about your falling grades.

"It's because of that boy, isn't it? That Miles," your mother added, a hint of disapproval in her tone. "You're spending too much time with him and neglecting your studies."

"No, mom, it's not Miles," you burst out, your temper flaring. "Why does everything have to be about him? Can't I have problems outside of him?"

Your words hung heavy in the room, silence following your outburst. Your parents exchanged a worried glance, while you stood there, seething and hurt.

"I'm going to my room," you finally said, your voice cold. With that, you picked up your bag and stormed up the stairs, slamming your door shut behind you. You were greeted with the silence of your room, a stark contrast to the tempest brewing inside you.

With the soft glow of your phone casting long shadows on your face, you lay on your bed, your mind heavy with thoughts. The argument with Miles had left you emotionally drained, the cruel echoes of their harsh words still bouncing off the walls of your mind. Your thumb hovered over the contact name 'Miles' on your phone, your heart aching with the bitter-sweet memories of your happier times.

Your room, a sanctuary of solitude and peace, now felt strangely quiet, the silence punctuated only by the distant hum of traffic outside your window. You could almost hear the ghost of Miles' laughter in your ears, his silly jokes that always managed to draw a giggle out of you, no matter how corny they were.

But tonight, the only company you had was your inner turmoil. You wanted to reach out to him, wanted to hear his voice, his reassurances that they would get past this, that he was alright. But your anger and worry kept you stubborn. You were mad at him, yes, but more than that, you were mad at yourself.

What were you supposed to do? How could you possibly explain to him that your worry was not some pointless nagging, but a fear that gnawed at your heart every time he swung out into the city, his life hanging by a thread?

A sigh escaped your lips, a little puff of frustration. You tossed your phone to the side, the screen lighting up momentarily before fading away. You felt a lump in your throat, your chest tight with emotions you didn't know how to deal with.

Alone in your room, your thoughts were your only company, each one echoing the same sentiment - you missed Miles. But until he understood why you were so worried, you didn't know how to bridge the gap that had formed between you. You just hoped that Miles was safe, wherever he was.

For now, you were left with the bitter remnants of their argument, the echoes of their words serving as a harsh reminder of the complexity of their relationship. After all, being best friends with Spider-Man was proving to be much harder than you had ever anticipated.

As the weeks went by, your academic performance continued to decline. You spent sleepless nights, staring blankly at your textbooks, but your mind was elsewhere. You were plagued by thoughts of Miles, his stubborn insistence on endangering his life as Spider-Man, and the argument you'd had. The memory stung, like a fresh wound refusing to heal.

Your teachers noticed your change in attitude and your falling grades. Mr. Lewis, your Chemistry teacher, confronted you after class one day, concern written all over his face. "Y/n," he began, his voice sincere. "I've noticed you've been struggling in class. Is everything okay at home?"

You looked away, trying to hide the turmoil in your eyes. "Yeah, everything's fine," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. It wasn't a complete lie. Home was okay, but you weren't. You thanked Mr. Lewis and left the classroom, your shoulders slumped under an invisible weight.

At school, you found yourself distancing from your friends, including Miles. You buried yourself in your work, even though it did little to improve your grades. The sight of Miles in your shared classes was like a punch to your gut, a cruel reminder of your fallen friendship.

During lunch, you sat alone, your food untouched. You stared at the bustling cafeteria, the lively chatter around you feeling like a distant echo. Your eyes inadvertently drifted to Miles, who was sitting with your mutual friends, his laughter echoing across the room. Your heart ached at the sight.

Eventually, your declining academic performance and isolating behavior led to a meeting with the school guidance counselor, Ms. Gomez. "y/n, I'm worried about y/n," she started, her voice gentle. "Your grades have been falling, and your teachers tell me you've been isolating yourself."

You shrugged, avoiding Ms. Gomez's gaze. "I'm just going through a rough patch," you mumbled. "I'll get through it."

Ms. Gomez gave you a sympathetic look. "I understand. But remember, it's okay to ask for help. Whether it's academic assistance or just someone to talk to, we're here for you."

Despite Ms. Gomez's kind words, you couldn't help but feel alone. The problem wasn't something you could share with anyone. You were trapped in your worries and fears for Miles, and it felt as though there was no escape.

A week of silence between you and Miles had felt like a year. The vibrant corridors of Brooklyn Visions Academy seemed muted, the laughter and chatter of students felt like a hollow echo, and the shared looks between you and Miles were filled with aching silence.

It was late in the evening when a soft tapping on your window broke the quietness of your room. The silhouette of Spider-Man, recognizable even in the dim light, startled you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you swiftly moved to open the window.

"Miles!" you hissed, glancing anxiously back towards your door. "What are you doing here? What if my parents see you?"

He took off his mask, revealing his usual playful grin. "And here I thought superheroes were supposed to get a warmer welcome."

Your eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and annoyance flashing across your face. "I thought I told you not to come here, Morales."

He laughed softly, shrugging. "Well, technically, you told Spider-Man not to come here. I'm just Miles right now."

You rolled your eyes but a tiny smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "We need to talk," you said, a serious tone replacing the brief moment of levity. "But not here. Let's go to our spot."

As soon as the words left your lips, Miles was wrapping an arm securely around your waist. The city lights whizzed by as they swung through the concrete canyons of New York. Your heart pounded in your chest - not from fear, but an excitement laced with an undercurrent of tension.

Your bodies were pressed against each other, an intimacy that was difficult to ignore. His arm, strong and sure, was wrapped around your waist while your arms found their way around his neck. Miles was acutely aware of your head against his shoulder, your warm breath tickling his neck.

Once you arrived at your favorite spot, a rooftop that overlooked the glowing city, you let go of each other reluctantly. The city lights were a soft backdrop to your shared silence. Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to face Miles, your gaze serious.

"Miles," you began, your voice steady, "I'm not asking you to stop being Spider-Man. I can't and I won't. This city needs you." Your eyes softened as you continued, "But I worry about you. We all do. You're more than Spider-Man to us."

Miles looked at you, his dark eyes reflecting the city's glow. He was quiet for a long time before finally speaking. "You…I…I don't want you to worry. But it's hard for me to separate being Miles from being Spider-Man."

You nodded, understanding the struggle he was going through. "I know it's hard, Miles. And we're not asking you to choose between being Spider-Man and being Miles. We're asking you to be careful. To remember that there are people who care about you."

A silence settled between you, comfortable yet filled with unspoken words. Miles ran a hand through his hair, the usual playful glint in his eyes replaced by a seriousness that matched yours. He seemed on the verge of saying something, his gaze fixed on you, as if he was gathering his thoughts. But then, he blinked, his face flushing, and let out a small laugh.

"I… um… yeah," he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck, "Yeah, you're right."

You gave him a small smile but didn't press him. Instead, you sighed, breaking the silence that had settled between you. "I should head back home."

He nodded, glancing at the city beneath them before turning back to you. "Yeah, I'll take you back."

As you left the rooftop, swinging through the city once more, the tension between you had eased. Your conversation had cleared the air, and even though there was still much left unsaid, you both knew you would face it together.

Miles gingerly landed on your bedroom floor, his hands still securely around your waist from the swing. His eyes sparkled under the pale moonlight that filtered in through your window, the mischievous glint in them hinting at his playful nature.

"Hope I didn't make you feel too sick?" he asked, his voice layered with a teasing lilt.

You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head lightly. "Nah, it was actually fun. Don't worry."

His fingers gently untangled from your waist as he took a step back, the space that once held warmth suddenly feeling a little colder. An ensuing silence stretched between you two, comfortable and intimate, until Miles broke it. "Well, I should probably get going. See you tomorrow at school."

"Yeah… see you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

As Miles turned towards the window, you caught the sight of his Spider-Man mask hanging loosely around his neck. He picked it up, his fingers tracing the familiar contours before pulling it over his face. But before he could completely disappear, you called out. "Wait, Miles."

He paused, turning back towards you, the silhouette of his masked face catching the moonlight. He came close to the window, now hanging upside down, his masked face inches away from yours. "Yeah, Y/N?"

"Thank you. I really enjoyed tonight. We should do it more often," you said, a hopeful lilt to your voice.

"Of course," he responded, the relief in his voice almost palpable.

Miles was just about to swing away when your voice halted him. "Wait, Miles!" His motion stopped abruptly, and he swung back towards your window. His eyes, even behind the mask, held an undeniable curiosity.

You reached up, your fingers gently tugging his mask up just past his nose, revealing his lips. The moonlight illuminated his features, casting soft shadows that highlighted the gentle curve of his lips and the light stubble on his chin. His eyes widened slightly at your touch, but he didn't pull away.

You swallowed nervously, your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, could see the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. You leaned in, your eyes fluttering closed as you pressed a soft, lingering kiss onto his lips.

The world seemed to stand still. His lips were soft and inviting against yours, a perfect fit that sent a rush of butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach. The cool night air around you contrasted with the heat that the kiss generated, creating a whirlwind of sensations that made your head spin.

Pulling away, you opened your eyes to find Miles momentarily dazed, his eyes reflecting surprise and something deeper, something warmer. And then, before you could fully register what was happening, his hand gently cupped the back of your head, pulling you back in.

This time, the kiss was deeper, more passionate. His lips moved in sync with yours, a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. His hand threaded through your hair, pulling you closer, while his other hand lightly rested on your waist. The taste of him, the scent of him, the feel of his body so close to yours, all of it made your head reel with a euphoria that tingled down to your toes.

When you both finally pulled away for air, his lips were slightly swollen, and his eyes held a warmth that made your cheeks flush. His smile, now more radiant than ever, was the kind of smile that held promises of many more stolen kisses in the future.

Miles was still caught in the euphoria of the kiss when he managed to stutter out, "Y/N, I just…I just wanted you to know, I-"

"I know, Miles. We'll talk about it tomorrow morning," you interrupted, your words carrying a promise of understanding, your soft smile soothing his anxious heart.

His smile broadened, an echo of the love-struck smile that hadn't quite left his face since the kiss. "Yeah… see you tomorrow, Y/N," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper as he swung away from your window, disappearing into the night sky.

You watched as his figure got smaller and smaller, until he was just a speck in the distance. Only then did you let out the squeal you'd been holding back, the sound echoing around your room, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

Quickly, you grabbed your phone from your bedside table, your fingers moving almost instinctively. You pulled up Miles' contact information, your heart still fluttering as you remembered the stolen kiss. With a wide grin on your face, you changed his contact name, replacing it with 'Miles ❤️'. The small red heart emoji next to his name was a sweet reminder of the affection that was blooming between you two, a promise of more heart-fluttering moments to come.

#across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #miles morales #peter parker #gwen stacy #hobie brown #miguel o'hara #miles morales x reader #spiderverse imagine #imagine #oneshot #astav x reader #spider punk #spider man 2099 #spiderman #taywrites

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iirenics · 2 years ago

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— besos

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

a/n: this is my gif! it took so long to find this clip + make it into a gif so pls give credit if you use it lol

summary: your makeup leaves kiss imprints all over miles’ face and neck, which you quickly have to figure out how to hide from his mother. wc: 1,033

contains: fluff, teenage romance

word bank: “besos” - kisses, “enamorado” - lover boy, “mijo” - son, “dios mio” - my god

“Hold still…”

Your soft lips pressed testimonies of your love upon the surface of Miles’ smooth skin, your giggles of excitement muffled as you kissed his temple, the apple of his cheek, the tip of his nose, the corner of his lips— anywhere you could easily reach, really.

Steady hands cradled the dip of your back to keep you in your straddled position on his lap, gentle fingers ghosting over the fold of your waistband and one of his eyes pinched closed in preparation for more of your frenzied affection.

“Jeez, you love me love me, huh?” he laughed, his answer presented to him in the way your kisses began to trail along his jaw, then started further down the column of his neck, his pulse gently thrumming against your gloss-tinted lips as the pace of his heart quickened.

His tongue quickly swiped at his chapped lips and he allowed his eyes to fall closed with a light sigh, enjoying himself for just a moment, until the distant sound of pots clinking brought him back to where he really was, in his room, with his mother just a few paces outside, resulting in a gentle warning pat against the curve of your hip.

“Alright, alright, chill.” he chuckled breathily, slowly pulling away from you to lean back on his hands and take you in, drinking in the image of how cute you looked on his lap like this.

He didn’t need a mirror to see what his face looked like, the slightly shocked expression on yours as you covered your laugh with a hand was enough for him to go off of.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

You opened your mouth to speak, to tell him it wasn’t, to tell him that his face wasn’t lavished in the remnants of your brown lip gloss and liner— but you couldn’t. He was covered in them, prints of your lips garnished all over his handsome features. Your lips split apart and came back together like a fish out of water, so you simply settled for another stifled snicker and a head nod instead.

“You do know if my mom sees this on my face it’s our asses, right?” he reminded you, and as if on cue, you heard his mother’s voice project from outside, your spine standing straight, just like the hairs on the back of your neck.

“Mijo, food is ready, come eat!”

Stunned eyes locked onto Miles’ for a beat, just to see if they were as wide as yours, or if they held just as much panic— and they did. Without a word spoken you scrambled off his lap faster than you’d even gotten there in the first place, his mirroring of your movements almost causing him to tumble off the bed. The room was thrust into a discord of silenced chaos for a few panicked seconds, your body spinning in two aimless half-circles with disoriented, wafting hands; as if the ridiculous looking movement could actually assist your anxiety frazzled brain in coming up with a plan.

Miles ruffled his sheets, hands frantically splaying around to find anything that would be useful in this moment until a shirt came into your view— a hurried, whisper-shout of his name tearing from your throat to get his attention. You swiftly kicked it up from the floor with your foot, flinging it towards his face and watching as his hand shot out in front of him to catch it not even a second after you’d punted it.

The graphic t-shirt you’d found managed to scrub his face clean of the incriminating evidence, not that you had much time to check the success rate of that as you were rushed out of the room hastily, your boyfriend’s hands plastered against the lower-middle of your back to usher you out the room in large steps, your feet having to shuffle to keep up.

“Dios mio, mile—!“ his mother’s voice fell short when the two of you chaotically stumbled your way into the kitchen, your lips tucked into themselves as you stood at attention, hands politely clasped behind you, while Miles was off to the side, shoulder leaned against the adjacent wall, legs crossed and hands on his hips. Totally not suspicious.

“Oh,” she blinked, giving the two of you a quick once over. The first thing she noticed was her son’s unusual demeanor, his eyes big and brows raised high, an expression he only wore when he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to be. But what really gave it away was the strange distance of a few feet wedged between the both of you. Just over an hour ago you guys had embraced one another in a long hug after he’d opened the door to let you in—right in front of her— and now, you were suddenly acting as if you were scared to even be near each other, like you were nervous to breathe the same air in her presence.

“Mm,” she turned back towards the stove to turn the rice over in the pot, allowing the both of you to exhale a trembled breath of relief, one you realized came prematurely merely milliseconds after it left your lungs. “I think you may have missed one, enamorado.” (lover boy)

Eyes almost blowing from your skull, you swallowed hard and reluctantly shifted your head up towards your boyfriend, who was frozen in place, your gaze dropping down to the slightly smeared gloss and lip liner against the skin of his neck; a painfully visible reminder of your previous tryst.

The knowing smirk that pulled at the corner of his mother’s lips went overlooked, just as Miles let his chin fall to his chest, his arm folding over his torso and his opposite hand slapping over his abashed expression, a defeated sigh sounding from behind it.

“I’ll help you with the plates, mama rio.” you voiced your offer quietly and cleared your throat as you went to slip in beside her, which she obliged to with a light chuckle.

“Sure, sweetie.”

“I’m-“ Miles sighed, scratching the back of his neck timorously and scanning the area for an escape before a tentative finger pointed into the dining room. “I’m gonna go over there.” He decided with a swooped nod, long legs carrying him from a scolding he knew he would have to come back to once you were gone.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works onto any other sites!

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#recommendation #fanfiction #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse

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