Miles Morales X You - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

HUGS N’ KISSES

PAIRING: miles g. morales x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend, miles, invites you over to his place since his moms not home and he can finally have the door shut. but one teasing comment you made later and suddenly he’s asleep in your arms as you smother him in tender kisses. is he really tho?

WARNINGS/NOTES: pure fluff, one suggestive joke? heavily coded latina reader w implied curly hair, miles being petty, that’s all !!

“translations:” ¿qué onda? = whats up, novio = boyfriend, relájate = relax, chuleto = used to refer to a fashionable/flirty boy or fboy, tonto = idiot, lo siento = i’m sorry, princesa = princess

after an exhausting heatwave, new york had been graced with a week of downpours and cool streets.

you hadn't recently seen your boyfriend. yes, you spoke to him in your classes and in the hallways when you saw him at school, but it had been some time since you had last seen him outside of the school building. he frequently claimed to be busy with whatever the hell it was. but you decided against pushing it. miles is loyal to you and has been through a lot, so you don't push him to tell you when he's busy or doing something else to fill the time. instead, you wait for him to open up.

currently, you found yourself comfortably sprawled on the couch in the living room. the morning's heavy downpour had gradually subsided as the afternoon arrived, leaving behind a gentle drizzle that cascaded down the windowpane. without any particular program capturing your attention, this day seemed to be a slow one you just had to follow the vibe of. as you idly absorbed the atmosphere, your eyes wandered to the television, where a journalist was discussing the prowler's recent involvement in a local drug bust.

exhaling a sigh, you contemplated switching off the tv and surrendering to another nap, when suddenly, a notification chimed on your phone. your gaze shifted to the coffee table, where the glow of your phone illuminated the surroundings.

it was a message from your man, miles.

mi novio : ¿qué onda, mami? i miss you 😩😩

you couldn't help but roll your eyes at your phone as you silently read the text. miles had a penchant for playfully teasing and maintaining a smooth facade, all in an attempt to fluster you.

you : relájate… we texted this morning and it was you who stopped replying

you : but ig i missed you too

you could almost picture the expression on his face at that moment. maybe a subtle smirk adorned his lips in response to your sassy reply or the mention of missing him. or maybe he even did a small pout, feeling defeated that you didn’t completely fold.

mi novio : ik you missed me

mi novio : you tryna come over?

as soon as you finished reading the last line of his message, a loud laugh escaped from your lips. once again, he was acting cocky. your mouth stretched into a soft smirk as you realized you couldn't pretend that you didn't like the way he acted. it didn’t help how bold he was asking for you to come over. now that’s when you knew something was up.

the supple fabric made contact with your skin as you took up your phone and sat back against the cushions, instantly soothing your muscles as you typed up a response.

me : come over and do what lil boy…

with a laugh, you rose from the couch and strolled toward your bedroom, mentally getting ready. it was a familiar routine, the satisfying dance of teasing and banter that defined your dynamic. deep down, you knew you would end up there regardless, but relishing in the opportunity to playfully toy with him was irresistible.

you put your phone down on your bed as you opened your closet and began to put an outfit together. you felt your phone ding as you jumped into your jeans and pressed the buttons together. picking your phone up, you glanced at the text message that flashed across the screen.

mi novio : girl you know not the start with me

mi novio : and don’t act like i’m on some freaking timing when you texted the prowler to stop by your window the other night, ma

a gasp escaped your lips, and your hand instinctively flew to cover your mouth, overwhelmed by the sudden nervousness that surged through your body. your cheeks were so warm from the sudden boldness of his comments you swore you could feel the steam radiation off of them. you were well aware of his nature, but this time, he had truly caught you off guard with his little comeback.

your head quipped at the sudden notification that dinged your phone again.

mi novio : what’s wrong, you stopped typing? don’t get all shy on me now when you started it

mi novio : just come over and we’ll figure it out damn i jus wanna see you

despite your nervous state you couldn't help but smile warmly at what she said. miles isn’t always vulnerable but you loved the little crumbs you got when he spoke his mind. you could tell he really missed by just how much he was double texting, something he only does when he talks to you.

you : i'm comingg you can stop now 🫶

as you coated your hands with the product, carefully working it into a rich lather, a playful image of him rolling his eyes in response to your text crossed your mind. undeterred, you tenderly scrunched and massaged the product into your luscious locs. casting a final approving glance at your reflection in the mirror, you made sure your fit was good. with your headphones and house keys in hand, you slid into a jacket, being mindful of the weather. swiftly, you shot miles a text, letting him know you’d be there soon.

you took a deep breath as you stepped out of your house, the familiar door closing behind you with a soft click. the gray sky’s gentle glow kissed your skin, casting a dark hue upon your face. the sound of your footsteps created a comforting cadence as you strolled through the gloomy neighborhood. with each step you glanced at the dark shadows that had overtaken brooklyn throughout time.

within a short time, you found yourself on his block, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your phone and let him know you were about to pull up. as you turned the corner, his apartment building came into view, and there he stood, positioned at the entrance, patiently awaiting your arrival. clad in an oversized black puffer jacket, he exuded a sense of warmth, his hands tucked protectively into the pockets for an extra layer of comfort in the outside weather. drawing nearer, his face gradually came into focus, revealing the cool, icy gaze that harmonized with his stoic demeanor. yet, behind the stoicism, a gentle smile graced his lips, radiating a tenderness that could not be concealed around you.

he let out a sigh as a cloudy mist escaped his soft lips. “hey baby,” miles whispered, his voice raspy almost as if he’s a bit tired as he moves closer and wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you close.

“hola chuleto,” you replied back, enamored by how gorgeous he looked in pale sunlight. you put your hand on his cheek and felt his supple skin beneath your fingertips. “so, can i get a kiss from my boyfriend now?”

before he responded, you prepared to start leaning up to kiss him but miles had playfully straightened his back and added to the distance between you two. you looked up shooting him an annoyed glare as a smirk painted his featuress.

“ah, mami. y’know i can’t resist you,” miles mumbled against your ear as he leaned back close to you and let out a small laugh.

he leans down and kisses you, both of his hands resting softly on your hips. he let out a satisfied hum as his lips met the warmth of your mouth. the feeling was something of ecstasy. he had missed you so much all he wanted to do was just be near you. his hand moves down to your lower back, pressing you against him. miles pulled back with a hum as he looked down at you with soft eyes as you gazed up at him through your wispy lashes. he pulled you into a hug as you both slowly rocked back and forth in each other's embrace.

as the chilly mist continued to linger in the air, miles gently pulled away from your embrace, his concern evident in his eyes. "hey, we should probably go inside the apartment building before we catch a cold," he suggested, his voice carrying a note of practicality. his words were accompanied by a warm smile, a gesture that conveyed both consideration and a desire to keep you safe.

nodding in agreement, you intertwined your fingers with his as a silent affirmation. miles opened the door to the lobby and guided you to the staircase as you began your descent up to his floor.

your kisses always had a way of melting his demeanor away into something much gentler, if your friends ever saw him this way they would barely recognize him.

as you reached the landing, miles fumbled for his keys, his hand briefly brushing against yours, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine. the door swung open, revealing the dimly lit and mostly empty apartment.

“you hungry? cus’ i cooked if you want anything,” he mentioned from behind you as he locked the door.

"cooked too, huh? and here you are always tryna act all hard," you giggled. "no, i’m good but thank you"

it always was amusing to you how miles acted so differently than how he actually felt but at the same time it gave you butterflies that he had made something with you in mind. he really did have a soft spot for you.

miles shot you an annoyed glare at your words. he never liked being called out, did he?

“i’m not hard or whatever,” he mumbled as he reached behind you, his large hands going around your waist to pull you close behind him before removing your jacket and putting it on the coat rack.

miles turned, catching sight of the amused expression on your face. his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, prompting him to take a step closer, deliberately lowering himself to meet your eye level.

“yeah, i cook,” miles stated, licking his lips. “so i don’t know why you’re giggling at me. a man can’t show off his skills once in a while?”

before you could let out another laugh, miles had grabbed you by the hand and dragged you into his room.

“c’mon, let’s relax and watch a movie or somethin,’” he suggested as you both made your way inside and kicked your shoes off.

miles settled onto his bed, reaching for his laptop and powering it on. as the soft, ethereal glow of the screen bathed his face in a light blue hue, he started looking for fall movies.

"and what movie might that be?" you asked, your expression tinged with curiosity and skepticism.

"i wanna watch a scary movie, but you're too scared so i'm letting you choose. just no more romcom nonsense." miles pleads as he pats the space beside him.

"whatchu mean romcom nonsense?" you repeated in a mockingly hurt tone. "i don't wanna hear that from somebody that said jason x was heat…”

"oh? so we gon bring that into this,” miles groans as he lays back onto the couch, pulling you down gently so you're laying on top of him.

you looked up at him with yet another raised brow as a small pout formed onto his playful lips. "jason x was heat, you're jus’ too much of a hater.”

“yeah i am a hater, but because i love you imma refrain from clowning you for that false statement,” you playfully teased, feeling miles grab your shoulder and lean back, creating a comfortable space for you to rest against his chest. he smirked, and you could tell he was enjoying the banter.

miles sighs, "alright alright, i guess jason x wasn't the greatest...”

he shifted slightly, propping himself up to lean over your body, his gaze fixed on you with gentle intent. with a tender touch, he reached for the blanket, enveloping both of you in its warmth as he carefully draped it over your bodies.

“jason x sucked,” you spat out as miles began to tuck the blanket into your sides.

miles reclined once more, his arm finding its place on your shoulder, drawing you even closer to him. the warmth of his touch sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

"you always smell good," he remarked, his voice laced with admiration, as he gave your waist a gentle squeeze. "is that the perfume i got you?"

a smile effortlessly spread across your lips at his question. the fact that he had noticed the fragrance you wore, especially since it was the dior one he had given you some time ago, filled you with a sense of excitement.

"could you really tell?" you asked, feeling a bit bashful.

he could sense the flustered effect his words had on you and responded with a sly smirk. as the remote made a satisfying click noise, miles finally selected a movie, capturing your attention. it was a satirical classic— a scary movie that promised both fright and laughter. "of course, i could tell," he quipped playfully, "the bag it came in made my room smell for weeks."

the sassy retort that was on the tip of your tongue dissolved into laughter, unable to resist the infectious humor he exuded. these were the things that made you appreciate his sarcasm even more, and more importantly, made you realize just how deeply you loved him.

miles smiled down at your laughing form, relishing in the pure joy that radiated from you. his fingers danced through your hair, a soothing gesture he often performed, as he loved these intimate moments you shared. planting a tender kiss on the crown of your head, he tightened his embrace, drawing you even closer as the movie commenced.

giggles escaped your lips as his hands continued to play with your hair, his gentle touch leaving a trail of butterfly kisses along your scalp. as the movie progressed, your positions shifted, with miles essentially becoming your cozy human blanket, his body nestled on top of yours.

with one hand lightly caressing his scalp, you both remained engrossed in the film. however, you couldn't help but notice the subtle heaviness in his eyes. between funny scenes, instead of laughing he would slowly blink, accompanied by silent chuckles that escaped his lips.

"tired?" you ask softly, noticing his drowsiness.

he responds with a gentle "mmhm" and a light snore, his grip on you tightening as he draws you closer. despite his fatigue, it's evident that he finds complete comfort and trust in your presence. as he starts to drift off, his breathing becomes more relaxed, and his hold on you gradually weakens, revealing his vulnerability. in this moment, there's no facade of stoicism or toughness, just the authentic him.

as the movie reaches its conclusion, the blooper reel snaps you back to reality. you reach for your phone in the corner, curious about the time. your heart sinks as the bright text on the screen reveals it's already 9:30.

"my mom is gonna kill me," you whisper under your breath, a hint of worry in your voice.

turning to your boyfriend, who is sound asleep in the crook of your neck, your senses come alive as each gentle breath of his tickles your skin.

"miles?" you call out, trying to rouse him from his nap, but there's no response.

cautiously, you place your hands on miles' shoulders and gently shake him, hoping to wake him up. but of course, he remains deep in his sleep, undisturbed by your sad attempts.

out of desperation you continue to try, shaking him a bit more, but it seems miles is completely lost in dreamland, his snores filling the room. he shifts slightly, but remains peacefully asleep, holding onto your neck and cuddling you tighter.

this turns out to be the worst possible scenario for you. the impending lecture from your mom, the potential attack with a lanky shoe, the grounding— everything seems likely to happen. miles shifts once again, clinging to you, and you can't help but feel both exasperated and affectionate in this bittersweet moment.

"miles, please..." you silently pleaded, but as you looked down at his serene face, a wave of tenderness and adoration washed over you. he looked so peaceful and irresistibly cute, and a part of you hesitated to disrupt his slumber.

a defeated huff escaped your lips as you surrendered to the sight before you. his bottom lip slightly tucked under his top lip, his eyelashes resting gracefully against his cheeks, and the faint smile that graced his face as he dozed off—all of it captivated your attention. it was an irresistible combination, making his features appear kissable and utterly adorable. the soft snores he emitted only added to the charm.

unable to resist any longer, your desires took over. cupping his face gently, you leaned down and pressed a tender kiss on his forehead. miles stirred slightly at the unexpected touch of your lips, but his response only made him look even more endearing as he leaned into your affection.

a smile played on your lips as you let go of any reserve, fluttering his face with multiple kisses. from his hairline to his cheek and jaw, your kisses were light and ethereal, filled with both gentleness and profound love for him. another kiss found its place on his nose, until the vibration of your phone interrupted the moment once again—your mom calling.

"damn, i really have to go," you muttered under your breath. summoning the courage, you slowly maneuvered miles off of you without disturbing his peace. gathering your belongings, you kneeled by his bed and pressed a gentle kiss on his scalp, one last show of affection before you run on home.

as you tried to move away, he unexpectedly grabbed your thigh, his grip leaving a faint imprint. with a laugh, you carefully pried his slender fingers off, savoring the sweet connection before leaving his side.

"goodnight, tonto," you whispered teasingly, ready to make your exit.

just as you were about to close the door, you heard miles mumble something under his breath.

"goodnight, ma."

he had been awake the entire time.

in an instant, it was as if you were hit with a flashback, remembering how you used to mock miles for his tough and stoic demeanor. was this his way of playfully getting back at you, by pretending to be a big baby?

"don't 'goodnight ma' me! you weren't even asleep this whole time?" you exclaimed, feeling a mix of surprise and embarrassment wash over you. the kisses you had showered him with while he was awake suddenly felt awkward.

"oh, come on, don't be embarrassed. i'm sure we both enjoyed it," miles chuckled, sitting up and leaning against the bed frame. "yeah, i was just messing with you a bit. it was funny."

"yeah, i bet it was real funny," you retorted, crossing your arms and standing defiantly in the doorway. "you always play too much."

miles let out a laugh, thoroughly amused by the small pout that formed on your lips. he rose from his comfortable position on the bed and approached you.

"aww, is la princesa mad at me?" miles teased, leaning down to your height, playfully taunting you.

"oh, can't you tell?" you shot back.

as miles sluggishly smiled, he couldn't help but say, "but you're so easy to mess with."

"being easy to mess with doesn't mean you should actually do it! i thought you were asleep for real," you commented, moving closer to him. "lo siento, pero i have to go home before my mom skins me alive or something."

miles mumbled, "didn't deny that you enjoyed it, though," clearly trying to push your buttons.

and it worked.

"miles!" you called out, your irritation evident in your voice.

"you're cute when you get all angry, you know that?" he continued to tease, his words meant to playfully provoke you.

as much as you wanted to maintain your anger, you couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle. you were still annoyed with him and his antics, but there was no denying the underlying affection he had that melted your heart.

he goes in for a hug, sighing softly as he kisses your cheek while embracing you. "alright, mami, go home before her anger starts to grow and she starts getting the chancla," he teases, but there's a hint of wistfulness in his expression as you prepare to leave.

you laugh at his joke. "don't manifest that for me!" you reply, worry in your voice as you slip on your sweater. miles walks you to the door, still holding onto your arm.

"no promises," miles jokes back. when you reach your front door, he keeps his grip on your arm and smiles. "i had a lot of fun today." he glances down briefly, his cheeks turning a shade of red.

"yeah, today was nice," you reply, returning his smile.

he doesn't say anything in response, instead emitting a soft hum. you turn to face him and smirk as you notice miles leaning in.

however, you interrupt his attempted kiss with a finger, playfully reminding him of his prank. "should i tho?"

"aww, come on, i'll make it up to you," he pouts, looking down. "please?" miles appears genuinely sad, and it becomes clear that you won't be able to keep up your annoyed facade for much longer.

frowning, you find yourself unable to resist any longer. you rise up on your tiptoes and cup his cheeks before leaning in for a kiss.

miles' eyes light up in surprise as you kiss him. after a moment, he kisses you back, and the kiss lingers on. eventually, miles breaks the kiss, his cheeks flushed and a smile on his face.

he looks at you, his expression hopeful. "are you not as mad at me now? did i make it up to you?"

"hmm, i'm not as mean as you, so i guess you're forgiven or whatever," you say, rolling your eyes playfully as you step outside, ready to start your journey home.

"so dramatic," miles chuckles, watching you walk away. however, he stops you at the door, a mischievous grin on his face. "hold up, did you see how red your face got?" he pokes your cheek and teases, "i didn't know you got that flustered." miles continues to poke your cheeks while smiling, clearly enjoying teasing you a little too much.

you give miles a deadpan look as he laughs at your reaction, not quite amused by his amusement.

miles kisses your cheek once more as you walk out, and calls out to you, "be safe and remember to text me when you get home!"

you hoped too that you’d be safe.

what awaited you at home, however, was pure hell. your mom sent you straight to your room after a heated argument that you wisely chose not to escalate. the interrogation that followed only added to your annoyance. you were definitely in trouble.

as you changed into your pajamas, you settled near your window and observed the serene scene outside. the orange and green hues of the falling leaves gracefully descended from the slender trees, landing softly into puddles. it was a tranquil moment, and you found solace in witnessing the slow descent of the fall beauty.

suddenly, a notification from your phone interrupts the peaceful atmosphere. it's from miles.

mi novio : i miss you already mami…

with a sense of contentment, you let out a loud giggle and swiftly reached for your phone to respond to miles. despite the trouble you’re now in with your mom, at this moment, it feels like a small price to pay for spending time with your boyfriend.

art from crittlyworm on tiktok

DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ALL WRITING IS @PRIMAVIVA.

IM OBSESSED, IVE READ THIS LIKE 6 TIMES JUST CS ITS NICE DONEODHODNSIWJ

Miles Morales x chaotic Reader~♡

Pairing(s): Miles x Gn! Reader (gender non-specific, no use of pronouns)

A/N: just everyones favorite chaotic duo

Reader is also a vigilante

You two were like tweedle dee and tweedle dum. Always around each other one way or another.

A typical school day to Miles was you both walking to school together and starting your day off with a not so upbeat attitude.

To say that Miles was a bit shocked that someone as chaotic as you hasn't been expelled was an understatement.

You werent loud per se but well... you were definitely troublesome.

Always dragging Miles to some new adventure, just as risky as the last.

Miles always calls you the chaotic one as if he wasn't the polar opposite of his civilian self when he's Spiderman .

Its like he's a whole new person .. not that, thats a bad thing

Some could say your chaoticness has had some influence on Miles. At first he was hesitant to go all out on criminals and notorious villians, however once you came into the scene it was like he was your own reflection.

You two became so notorious for wreaking havoc on all of new york, eventually, Miles told you to call it quits since the media was having a field day.

Doesn't stop how notorious you've become amongst the media and how your fanbase is just as notorious.

Now, back at school its pretty much the same.

You, being the trouble and Miles just being... sorta there...

Its kinda ironic since you're known as the chaotic troublesome kid around others while in the eyes of Rio and Jeff you're the best kid there is to have their son around

He swears sometimes it's like you're their kid instead of him...

e-42!Miles Morales headcanons (fluff) ㅡ

Okay, so, I've seen a lot of people headcanon that Miles is going to buy you anything and everything you even look at

but while that's fine because they're headcanons, let me remind you the boy is 16. He's not gonna be walking into Gucci and buying everything off the displays like a webtoon.

That being said, if he has a little extra cash he'll most likely spend it on you.

I'm talking little meaningful things though. Flowers, books, little trinkets that reminded him of you and such,

if your hobby needs supplies, he'll discreetly scan your stock when he's over and get you a refill of whatever you're low on.

He also cherishes whatever you gift to him and refuses to throw anything from you away.

Like once, you got the both of you matching shoes. They've been his favorite pair ever since.

And also dates.

Dates are a little rare between the two of you ngl, because 1) New York is literally Gotham atp, and 2) being the Prowler takes up a lot of time.

so you mostly hang out at each other's places as a substitute.

But when you do go out, Miles will plan everything down to a T

because let's face it, he tries to act cool but boy is nervous

You're the first person that isn't family he's actually opened up to. He doesn't want you to have a single bad experience with him.

But even if your dates go sideways, either one or both of you always find a way to make it better :)

At the start of your relationship, he's not too big on PDA.

but as it progresses, he starts getting more comfortable about stuff like holding hands or chaste kisses in public.

Once he's completely sure of himself and the two of you, he's always touching you in some way;

linking pinkies, holding hands, hand/arm around your waist, etc.

Never, I repeat never in front of Uncle Aaron though.

It's not that he's embarrassed of you or anything, but his uncle will definitely tease the living hell out of him

Speaking of Uncle Aaron, he likes you.

The first time he heard about you was a week or two after he taught Miles the Shoulder Touch™

Keep in mind, this is before Miles's dad passed away and all that,

so the boy was awkward.

When he tried it out on you, you couldn't help laughing, just a tiny bit.

Then he made the mistake of telling his uncle, who made it so much worse

"Can you please stop laughing? I'm being serious!"

"I'm sorry man–"

"No you're not 😒"

Back to physical affection, Miles is a sucker for any that you give him.

hugs, cuddles, kisses, you name it.

He will literally melt into your arms.

He'll try to deny it at first but it isn't fooling anyone, so at one point he just gives up the tough guy act when it's just the two of you.

Forehead/top of the head kisses? PLEASE PLEASE P L E A S E

he needs some soft affection.

He is down bad.

You get back hugs. all the time. extra when he's sleepy.

he will literally penguin walk you everywhere.

A lot of times he'll put his head on your chest and hear your heartbeat to remind himself you're still there and his. Especially when 'work' was hard.

Speaking of, he also told you he's the Prowler.

Of course, he tried to delay it as much as he could, but once the two of you were absolutely stable he felt wrong keeping it a secret.

Especially when he had to bail on plans for some inpromptu work thing and couldn't give you a reason why.

You'd kinda put two and two together at that point, but it was nice to hear him actually tell you.

After Miles comes clean though, his protective tendancies will double.

He isn't controlling or smothering, but he has some strong feelings against you walking in the streets alone after dark and such.

And they only get stronger after he tells you what he does. If something happened to you because you knew, he'd never forgive himslelf.

So he takes precautions. Whenever he drops by your place after work, he always changes first so that no one sees the Prowler frequent some random apartment.

he'll never let you anywhere near his job. You don't need to watch all that nasty shit.

and so on, so forth.

He's also a big whiner. He will drag his words out to the ends of the earth if he has to.

"Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa–"

"Miles, my paper's due in two days."

"Finish it tomorrow then. Necesito sostenerte, hermosa."

"...Fine."

Mrs. Morales also loves you. You're basically her daughter in law already.

Which is great!

Until she starts showing you the baby pictures.

"Miles had the cutest little face–"

"Má, please–"

She loves having you around and will let you stay the night whenever (as long as the door's cracked open).

You're invited to every single family event courtesy of Rio.

Miles will try to participate in anything you're interested in.

you like doing makeup? put some on him pls.

he'll also watch youtube tutorials to learn how to do it himself and do it for you.

which doesn't work too well the first few times, but now he's a natural!

his first time doing your eyeliner though:

"Miles, you've been at it for like 10 minutes. Let me see!"

"..."

"Is that– is that a wing?"

"..."

"🏃‍♂️🚶‍♂️"

"No, no, it's nice– it's so nice–"

Rio almost died laughing.

If you like to draw, he'll take you on grafitti dates !

But if you're nervous about that, then he'll just sit and draw with you or something.

don't look at his paper, he's drawing you and will be very flustered (he'll try to play it cool but blushing isn't rly something he can control)

so yea look at his paper

If you're part of a fandom, he'll study everything he can find on it so that he can understand what you're talking about.

He'll most likely like it too, and you guys could spend hours talking about it if you want.

but if he's not that into it, he'll just sit and listen contently to you talk about it with the stupidest smile on his face like :]

He has the softest spot for you even a blind person could see it.

He just loves you so much pls love him back

probably do a pt.2 soon

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

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."

Fixed everything yall.

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

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, tía," 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 second 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 Morales’ flat. You had a spare key that Miles’s parents had given you a long while ago, when your parents usef 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 which 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."

In the works

Okay guys, so, the author reached out to me and everything’s good! I checked out the fic for myself and it wasn’t copied, plus they put a disclaimer and link at the beginning of the post to say it was inspired from Mary Janes. I appreciate all of you who let me know about a possible copy, thank you so much and it’s truly gratifying to know you care.

Speaking of, pt.2 is almost done-ish since my writer’s block is gone!

I just seen a fic that look like yours 👀 They took your Mary Jane fic word for word !

Wait fr? Anyone have a link?

High Enough (Without the Mary Jane)

summary; 'in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well'. you don't want to be a mary jane anymore.

or, in which you were the mindy s. mcpherson to miles's prowler

pairing(s); e-1610! Miles Morales x fem!reader, e-42! Miles Morales x fem!reader (r is referred to with she/her pronouns, no physical description.)

warning(s); fem spanish terms are used ('hermosa' etc.), reader’s hand is smaller than Miles’. author can’t write action sequences for shit.

may be ooc but we haven't seen a whole lot of p!miles yet so there isn’t really much to go off of

implied/mentioned parental issues with reader, not proofread, written (mostly) at ao3 hours

a/n; according to google the sinister 6 of e42 are doc oc, vulture, electro, rhino, sandman and scorpion, although i've seen some other ppl say that the eastereggs are vulture, rhino, scorpion, sandman, shocker, kraven and electro. i'm going w the google one, maybe kraven and shocker are their own thing. also they're prolly rich aholes since their signs are on buildings n stuff, so that's what i went with.

also reader was sent to earth 42, but like, a few days before 1610 miles arrives, kind of like how gwen was sent to 1610 a week before she found miles

Miles — or, who you assumed was Miles, anyway — took you back to his place, going out of his way to avoid alleys where there weren't many people around and sticking to the bigger streets. You found it kind of weird. Back home, you and Miles used to cut through backstreets and even some sketchy buildings all the time to make it home before curfew.

You felt him steal glances at you the whole walk, and you’d be lying if you didn’t do the same.

This version of him just felt so.. different.

Once the two of you reached your destination, he let you up the stairs first before quietly calling for you to stop once you reached his floor. You hesitated for a moment on the steps. It was a higher level than Miles’s flat back home, and the building had looked a lot different from what you’d seen just half an hour ago, even if it still felt familiar. You’d chalked it up to the multiverse doing multiverse things at first, but he was starting to act a little off.

Having been around your Miles for years, you knew all his tells. You could see how his weight shifted on his feet as he unlocked the door. You could see he was overall standing straighter and more tense. You could see the hesitation before he turned the key.

Miles was lying to you. And he felt guilty.

But what were you going to do?

This universe was new to you. Sure, everything seemed just about the same, but it was all so foreign at the same time. There where skyscrapers you’d never seen before, new graffiti on the streets of the same couple people over and over again - all of whom you were sure you’d seen somewhere before but couldn’t quite grasp where. The sight of buildings blocked by yellow tape and more in the process of repair after seemingly being burned down or blown up were common in this world, like it was an active war zone or something.

You really didn’t have a choice but to follow along.

He opened the door and waved you in, closing the door rather hastily after the both of you.

You took a glance around the room. There were metal bars on the windows, to keep people out or trap them in you couldn't quite figure. There was a DJ setup near them that looked awfully familiar. Hooks hung down from the unfinished ceiling, some holding chains and others oddly shaped items haphazardly wrapped with what looked like brown lunchbag paper. Wires and ventilation just about everywhere, most of the wires leading to either monitors or gadgets you assumed were in the progress of being built. An old, beat up couch and some gym gear by the wall, an open kitchen-slash-workshop area straight ahead.

The only source of light was the neon red from the signs outside the window, and even then the farther bits of the apartment remained a dark purple hue.

Then someone came out of the other room.

“What's this?”

The hell—?

From the shadows, Aaron Davis emerged.

His beard was more grown out then you'd ever seen, and his features looked sharper, almost rougher. His shoulders seemed more broad, though maybe that was the heavy jacket he wore making him look bigger than he actually was.

“¿Tío?”

Miles had taken you around to his uncle's a couple of times, which you now realized was why you recognized this place. Aaron raised an eyebrow at you, surprise flashing across his face before it was quickly wiped out. He looked over you, taling in your appearance.

“Miles.” He asked again.

“I dunno,” the boy replied, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets and avoiding his uncle's gaze. “Just found her on the way home.”

“Found her?”

Aaron glanced at you, then back to Miles, then back to you, his eyebrows furrowed in either confusion or frustration. He finally looked back at his nephew, the two of them having a silent conversation you couldn’t read.

“…Fine.” Aaron sighed, turning around—

You felt like you were dying, or being born, or possibly both at the same time. For a split second, you were nothing but particles, your skin and bones and just about everything being ripped apart then sewn back together. Your vision was a mix between TV static and rapid fire neon colors, and it was about the same deal with your hearing (which was concerning, since you couldn't usually hear colors).

Miles had taken a step forward, letting you grab his arms to keep you from falling over as he said something you couldn’t quite hear. Aaron had whipped around so fast you wondered how it didn’t give him whiplash, fists at the ready in case he needed them.

“What was that?” Miles’s voice finally got through to you, the high-pitched screaming in your ears dying down. You blinked at him as your mind went blank.

“I don’t—” You cut yourself off. Wait, was it..? Had you just..?

“Complete cellular decay.” You recalled Miles’s countless retellings of the multiversal mess that had happened just about two years ago. “I’m glitching, aren’t I?”

“Right, and you know this because..?” Aaron asked, his hands now at his sides but not eased yet. He eyed your face as if he was expecting you to grow a third eye or something. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him.

“Okay, so, this might sound crazy,” You started, “but I’m from another dimension.

“We had something like this happen back home a while back — except, y’know, people came into our dimension rather than people from ours going somewhere else.

“The people that came, they were glitching, too. Their atoms were displaced and decaying.”

“So you’re saying,” Miles spoke up, his grip tightening around your forearms just slightly. “If you stay here too long—”

“I’ll die, yeah.” You said, the reality of the situation hitting you like a KTX. “Disintegrate, to be more accurate.”

Silence filled the flat as all three of you processed the information. Miles was frozen, his gaze fixated on the spot where your hands grabbed onto him as if he was scared you’d disappear if he looked away. Aaron crossed his arms, his eyes darting from left to right like he was reading some invisible text.

As for you, you felt unreal. Your body didn’t feel like your own anymore, your vision more like looking at the screen of a first-person shooter. Were you going to die here? You didn’t want to die yet. What would your dad think? Would he file a police report? Would Miles’s dad send out a search party to look for you? And Miles—

You hadn’t even said goodbye to him at the party.

You hadn’t said goodbye to anyone.

I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t—

“Hey,” Miles says, his voice softer than earlier, snapping you out of your spiral. His hands slide down your forearms and slip into your own, giving them a firm squeeze. “No vas a morir.”

You’re not gonna die.

“Te llevaré a casa.” The boy said, his deep brown eyes bore into yours, slowly bringing you back from feeling like you’re looking at a video game to feeling more like you’re lucid dreaming. It wasn’t a total fix, but it’s a start. “I’ll get you home, I promise.”

You took a deep breath, trying and failing to ground yourself more.

“What’s five things you hear?” Miles asked gently, tilting his head and leaning ever so slightly closer to you. You just blinked, overwhelmed with everything.

“Mi vida,” he said again. “Five things.”

You paused for a moment.

Sirens outside.

Yelling from the streets.

Chains clinking in the breeze from the open window.

Aaron shuffling around in the other room. When had he left?

The buzzing of the lights overhead.

“Good.” Miles said encouragingly. “Now, four things you see.”

Miles.

A pan on the kitchen stove.

The DJ table by the windows.

Tio Aaron pulling out the couch to make a sofa bed.

“Three things you can touch here.”

Miles.

The ground if you bent down, you guessed.

Some trinkets on the table just over there, but you’re not gonna touch that.

“Two you can smell?”

Rusted metal. There’s tons of it around; on the walls, the ceiling, tables, even on the shelves. What was that chest plate doing back there, anyway?

That pool smell, which is kinda gross since it came from the chlorine in pool water mixed with all the gross stuff that came from human bodies.

Miles smiled as you said that. “Vuelves a mí, mi sol.” He squeezed your hands again. “One thing you can taste.”

“I dunno, soda? We had a ton of it at the party.” You wiggled your fingers. It was like you were stepping into your body for the first time — nothing was a perfect fit just yet, like a pair of knitted gloves with too much room at the ends of the fingers. You’d have to get used to it again.

It’s then that Aaron called Miles over, the boy reluctantly leaving your side and following his uncle to the other room. He told you to make yourself comfortable on the couch before he went, though, so that’s exactly what you did. The spring cushions feel oddly comforting under you, the familiarity of home twisted just slightly out of proportion.

There’s really nothing to do alone here. You tapped your fingers on your leg. Thankfully, Miles and Aaron came back after just a few minutes.

The first thing the boy said to you, “I’m gonna get you home.” A firmer, more certain repetition of his promise from a minute ago, albeit there’s a bit of a strain in his voice as if it physically hurt him to say it. In a clumsy yet swift motion, he quickly leaned down and kissed your cheek before making his exit rather hurriedly.

You felt the heat rush to your face, your hand coming up almost immediately to touch the spot.

Aaron chuckled and shook his head.

“So,” he said. “You as smart as she was, too?”

-

You tinkered with the gauntlet of a prototype suit that Aaron had dug out of storage somewhere, the man himself working on the main body. The helmet — or was it more of a mask? It was a bit bulkier than Miles's Spider-Man mask, a bit more tech-y. Probably more similar to an Iron Man helmet, now that you think about it, albeit lower in its level of advancement — was plugged into one of the many monitors strewn about the flat.

You'd managed to pry a couple bits of information out of him for the past few hours (during which you hadn't glitched again, thankfully) in exchange for some of your own. So far you knew that this universe’s Jefferson Morales had passed away a few years ago, prompting Miles to take on the mantle of the Prowler to avenge his father’s death — the details of which he stayed frustratingly vague on — and, later on, to keep the city as safe as he could.

“Wait, wait, who’s your Spider-Man, then?”

“Who’s Spider-Man?”

You blinked in confusion. “What? You don’t have a Spider-Person?”

“What, like, a part-spider guy? Nah. Scorpion’s mostly bug though, that count?”

This dimension didn’t have a Spider-Man. That was why the city was so overrun with bad guys.

You gave him a general rundown of the whole ‘radioactive spider’ thing and moved on.

Your own variant, who was Miles’s best friend and had helped make a lot of his gear, had disappeared a while after the Prowler started taking out some bad guys that were a step above villain-of-the-week, the ones who had all sorts of shady connections. Hearing about your presumed death was a strange experience.

“We know they took her,” The older man had said, jamming his screwdriver into a faulty part of the suit. “But the cops are all in on it ever since the Cartel bought ‘em out. Declared her dead after less than 24 hours.”

Oh, speaking of, apparently there was a team of villains bringing Gotham to life in New York, Brooklyn being the heart of it all. How fun.

The Sinister Six Cartel, as the Bugel had dubbed them, was the one Aaron and Miles believed to be behind your variant’s disappearance. The two were certain that the Cartel had worked out a connection between you and the Prowler. The nail on the coffin was when they sent a body double of you in the Prowler’s direction to mess with his head just a couple months ago, complete with some sort of Face Off style mask that made it possible for the fake to look exactly like you. It was only a day or two before Miles figured out it was a setup, but it had shaken him up pretty bad.

“I thought you were another one.” He’d admitted. “But then you did the whole glitchy thing. Looked horrible, by the way, real nasty. It hurt much?”

“You have no idea.”

In return, you told him about home. You told him how Miles’s dad was up for a promotion, practically Captain already. You told him about your Miles’s art and how he made a mural of him after his death. You didn’t go into too much detail about the ‘death’ part, focusing more on the peaceful aspects since it was so clearly missing from his every day life. You couldn’t really read this Aaron Davis that well since he was more guarded than he had been back home, but you could tell he appreciated it; especially the parts about his brother.

You also told him how Miles and the other Spider-People who were sent to your dimension had worked out a solution to fix their situation, and gave him a brief summary of the whole ordeal, the details of which he texted Miles since he hadn’t given you a chance to tell him about it when he left so hastily. He said something you couldn’t quite make out as he did — you caught the words ‘lab’ and ‘property’, but that was pretty much it. He only waved it off as nothing when you asked him about it.

“How’s my dad?” You asked, pushing your hand into the gauntlet to test if it worked right. It was a near perfect fit, which made you wonder who exactly it was for, since Miles’s hand was bigger than yours. “Is he doing okay? After the whole ‘declared dead’ thing?”

“He’s holding up, just like the rest of us,” Aaron replied, checking on the monitor. “Your mom — her mom’s been sticking around. Grief brings people together and all that. They’re trying therapy.”

A weird feeling bubbled up inside. While it was good to know at least one version of your parents were trying to reconcile, it bothered you that your absence had prompted it. Was that what was happening right now back home? Had your disappearance magically brought your parents back together? Had it even been long enough for that to happen, or did time flow equally throughout the multiverse?

…

Would it be better for them if you just didn’t go back at all?

“Oh.” You said, nodding slightly as you flexed and wiggled your fingers in the gauntlet, watching the way it moved. It was a lot thinner than the claws that adorned the Prowler’s hands from what you’d spotted here and there in the flat, built to be stealthier in the way it functioned. There were no clunks or clinks, just soft whirring noises that sounded almost like a cat’s purr. “That’s good, I guess.”

It was worse this time around, which you didn’t even know was possible. You felt yourself being split in a billion different directions, parts of you re-atomizing not quite in the right places. You’d never known the feeling of having space between where all your joints were supposed to connect, but now you did, and it honestly made you want to die. Not really. Well…

-

Miles came back sometime before dawn. You heard the door opening slowly, almost like he was trying not to wake his parents up as he was sneaking in past curfew. Not that he used the door ever since he could climb walls, but still.

He crept into his uncle’s flat, even leaving his shoes at the door so he wouldn’t make too much noise. He was making his way to the other room when he looked at you on the couch, only to flinch in surprise when he saw your eyes were open.

“¿Qué haces despierto?” He whispered, his shoulders tenser than earlier from the split second of adrenaline. “It’s late.”

“What are you doing that you have to sneak in?” You whispered back. The boy just shrugged.

“Oh, you know…” He trailed off, looking around to avoid your questioning gaze. “…Stuff.”

You rolled your eyes. “That has gotta be the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Miles huffed, shuffling over to you and sitting down on the floor in front of the couch, facing you. “Yeah, well, I asked you first. Why’re you up, hermosa?”

You sighed. “Can’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know, the thought of my impending doom, maybe.”

A couple beats passed by without a word from either of you, a bit of awkwardness hanging in the air, though it was accompanied by a familiar sense of comfort.

“Do you trust me?” Miles asked, his hand reaching out to gently grab a corner of the blanket draped over you.

“Probably.” You replied. You hadn’t known him long enough to trust him just yet, as much as you wanted to. The corners of his lips tilted up just a bit in an almost smile.

“Then trust that I’ll do whatever it takes to get you home.” He said. “I already lost you once, I’m not letting that happen again.”

-

The next day was pretty uneventful. For the most part, anyway, if you don’t count the random glitching throughout. You were advised heavily against going outside since the Cartel had eyes everywhere, so your area of activity was limited to the flat. Miles had evidently snuck back out after your little talk the night before, which made you feel a tinge disappointed since you wanted to get to know him better. Fortunately, Aaron said you could help with the suit again.

The TV played in the background as you tapped on the keyboard, giving the helmet a few final touch-ups as the sun set outside the window. J. Jonah Jameson jabbered on about this week’s biggest disasters and lamented about how ‘if only there was a hero to save this city’, which made you snort.

“He’s gonna switch up real quick if a hero does show up,” You remarked to Aaron, who looked at you questioningly. “The guy hates Spider-Man back home.”

“What, Jameson?” He said, raising an eyebrow. “Nah, he’s the biggest Captain America fanboy out there. Loves heroes an’ all that.”

He thought for a moment. “Pretty sure Miles saw him at Comicon that one time too.”

“What’s a Comicon?”

Unfortunately, you never got the answer as you heard the lock on the door slide open. You spun around in your chair to greet Miles as you knew he was supposed to be coming by sometime in the evening, but your friendly smile quickly faded as his expression turned to one of shock, catching a glimpse of what the two of you were working on.

The boy froze as he stared, wide-eyed, at the suit. “Tio,” He said, looking at Aaron as he clenched his jaw. “What’s that doing out?”

“She needs a suit.” The older man answered simply.

“What?” Both you and Miles asked, though you could tell it was for vastly different reasons.

“We need to get into Alchemax to get her home, and we can’t do that unless she has protection.”

“Which is why I came here to make a plan!” Miles shouted, his hands moving animatedly, the way your Miles's always did when he got upset. “Eso, eso no le pertenece. ¡No es para ella!”

They had a back and forth as the pieces came together as to why Miles was so upset.

The suit was supposed to be for you.

His you.

You were, essentially, fixing up a dead girl's clothes to wear.

“The Cartel isn't stupid, Miles,” Aaron tried to make the boy see his point. “Even if we somehow made a distraction big enough for the big ones to leave base, there's still gonna be someone left to guard it. Would you be able to live with yourself if she got hurt? Or worse—”

“Don't.” Miles's nails dug into his palms, leaving dark cresent moons in their wake. Aaron sighed.

“If she got hurt, you'd feel like that's on you. If you got hurt protecting her 'cause she doesn't have anything to protect herelf with, then I'd feel like that's on me.” He said, his features softening as he reasoned with his nephew. “This is the best bet.”

“We could build her a new suit—”

“And take what? Couple days? A week? Two weeks?”

He glanced at you, Miles following his gaze towards you as well. You knew what was implied. The only people you knew this happened to had gone maybe over a week before the glitching became a real problem, and they were superhuman. Who knew how long you had?

“She can wear mine. We have a ton of old ones, I'll just take one of those—”

“I'm not gonna let you get hurt for her, kid.”

“Don't call me that.”

They went back and forth for a while, and eventually Miles went to the other room to cool off and think things through. Aaron sighed, wiping a hand across his face.

“No offense.” He said to you.

“None taken.” You replied, not really knowing what to do. It felt wrong for you to be tinkering with something that was so clearly not meant for you, even if it was for a variant of yourself.

You could hear Miles pacing the other room, muttering to himself.

“Maybe I could...” You trailed off.

“You could try talking him into it,” He suggested. “He'll listen to you more than me right now.”

“...Should I, though?” You couldn't even begin to imagine what Miles was feeling. All this multiverse shit was too damn complicated.

“Look, kid, I know it's weird.” Aaron said, shoulders sagging just a bit. “But this—” he pointed to the suit— “is the best way to make sure no one gets hurt. Trust me.”

There was something he wasn't telling you, but he didn't have to for you to know what it was. Miles thought you were alive, somewhere out there. You knew it was entirely possible that he blamed himself for your disappearance, as it was your own version of him's go-to for anything and everything that went wrong. The shadows under his eyes, that look whenever he saw you... you wondered how many nights he'd spent outside, looking for some trace of you, a new lead to follow. Especially since your arrival.

Aaron thought this was the best chance Miles would ever get to let go of you. To get some sort of closure by sending you home.

“…I'll try.” You finally agreed, getting up from your seat and shuffling to the other room. You hesitated before going in, but the lack of a door made it awkward to linger, so you just bit the bullet and walked inside.

The room in question was more of a faux-veranda (which explained the no-door thing); a long, narrow space separated from the main living area by a sheet of drywall, with one of the wider walls filled with shelves of CDs and albums and the other decorated sparingly with old band and movie posters along with Miles-brand stickers.

“So...” You said, fiddling with your hands as you took a look around the area. You gestured at one of the stickers on the wall. “Did you make that?”

Slowing to a stop to face you, Miles nodded, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Cool.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, you working out what to say and Miles trying to come up with some other solution to the problem. The boy had an unhealthy obsession, that much he knew, but he just couldn't bring himself to let go of it. Not when you could be out there, just waiting for him to find you.

“I don't want to push you,” You started hesitantly. “But.. I think your tìo may be right.”

“I know that.” He looked at his feet as if the dirt on his shoes was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world, the sight of him reminisent of a little kid getting scolded by his mother. “I know that.”

“I can't say I understand.. whatever's going through your head right now,” You said, taking a step towards him. “But he just wants what's best for you.”

“What's best for me is finding—” He cut himself off when his eyes met yours, frustration and confusion and stubbornness and sadness and who knows what else all mixing into a big mish-mash of conflicting thoughts inside of him. He clenched his fists, tilting his head up as he tried to think clearly. To his dismay, his throat closed up, the familiar sting of tears pricking at his eyes.

“I need to find her.” He muttered, putting a hand over his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears from falling. It didn't work. “I need to find you.”

“And you will.” You were sure of it. Aaron and Miles were both so sure that their you was alive... she had to be. “But right now? Right now, I need you to help me out.”

He looked at you, his gaze almost spaced out for a moment. You wondered if he saw her in you — if she had the same haircut, the same eyes, the same accent...

You could tell he was frustrated by the way that the scrunch above his nose wouldn’t go away. Hesitantly, you reached out, wiping away the tracks stray tears had left on his cheeks. He stiffened for a moment.

“...Fine.” He finally muttered, a hand coming up to grab your arm, though he seemed unsure if he wanted to push it away or pull it closer. So he just held it in place, his thumb brushing over the inside of your wrist, the edge of your palm. His posture relaxed, just a bit. “Okay.”

-

Two days later, it wasn't too dark when the plan set into action.

Security at Alchemax — once belonging to Kingpin, now in posession of the Sinister Six Cartel — was thinnest sometime around six to seven pm, when dinner breaks, shift changes and the checkout of regular scientists were prominent.

Miles and Aaron had each set up time bombs at multiple smaller warehouses the Cartel used for storage, each coordinated to go off within minutes of each other. With little to no heroes or police in the way, the Cartel had no reason to keep their lesser important stocks well-guarded, which made it easy to sneak explosives into some of the shipments, support beams and pipes.

Once the explosions were set off, Aaron would use some rip-off Mysterio tech to make projections of some new vigilante gang, with each fake member leading the forces of the Cartel away from Alchemax. During this went on, Miles would sneak you in and to the Super Collider (which, surprisingly, had not been scrapped since its change of ownership) through the vents—

“Wait, wait, isn’t there like, a tunnel that can get us directly to the Collider?” You’d asked, remembering what Miles had told you when he first told you how he became Spider-Man.

“It got sealed off.” Aaron had said. “Some sort of supercharged electromagnetic thing. They did that with all the major underground entry points. Can’t shut it off without blacking out half of Brooklyn.”

“Or getting fried.” Miles had said. “The generators powering each point are all hooked up together a single system, como una mente colmena. You attack one of ‘em directly, all the others shoot a billion bolts of energy into you. And we don’t have time to hack into and get past the firewall to shut the thing down.”

—which you would navigate by memorizing a blueprint of Alchemax that had been conveniently leaked in a mass Cartel server leak a couple months ago. Miles would then plug in the goober he, Aaron and you had made using information gathered via Aaron's 'friends', and send you home.

It was a simple mission. Maybe a bit too simple, but you didn't really have much a choice when you were on a time crunch with limited information. Besides, Occam's razor.

“Copy?” Aaron's voice asked from your earpiece.

“Copy.” You answered, followed by Miles from his own communicator.

“A-6 is a go in 3.. 2...”

Boom.

A couple blocks away, a cloud of dust shot into the air. The building you and Miles were on the roof of shivered slightly as storage unit A-6 blew up.

“A-27.”

Boom.

“C-15.”

Boom.

From your vantage point, you had a clear view of what was going on at Alchemax without the risk of anyone down there catching a glimpse of you. You could see the non-combat scientists scrambling to get to their cars and the armed guards being led by weirdly dressed villains in the direction of the explosions. Although you supposed you weren't quite qualified to comment on the 'weirdly dressed' part at the moment, since you and Miles weren't much better in your respective suits.

Speaking of, Miles hadn't talked much ever since he first saw you wearing the suit. His responses were short if he even gave one, although you could feel him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren't looking.

Miles fixed the gauntlet on his hand one last time before shuffling closer to you. “Ready?”

His voice sounded strange to you, his actual voice coming through your earpiece overlapping with the voice coming through his modulator.

“Mhm.”

“Going in.”

You hooked your arms around his shoulders and his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight as a grapple shot out of his gauntlet. He used it almost exactly like how Miles used his webshooters, although his actions were a bit more... forceful? Rougher around the edges, if that made sense.

As your feet left solid concrete, the city sped by underneath the both of you, a pretty blend of neon and gray. Your suit prevented you from actually feeling the air whipping by, but a fraction of the wind managed to seep through the cracks, sending a chill down your spine as your stomach dropped at the sudden decline.

For a moment, gravity seemed to disappear. The laws of physics no longer felt like they effected you in any meaningful way. Anything and everything that had been weighing down on you — this whole situation, Miles, demanding schoolwork at Visions, your parents and their myriad of problems — no longer held you down.

It was exhilarating.

Your 'flight', so to speak, was over almost as soon as it started. You tucked your legs as you reached the roof of the Alchemax building, separating from Miles and rolling to lessen the impact. Surprisingly, the move came quite naturally to you, even without practice. You chalked it off as something you'd learned when you were a toddler, when your mom used to sign you up for all sorts of extracurriculars. You were pretty sure martial arts or something had been one of them; maybe you'd learned it there.

Your heart pounded as the sudden rush of adrenaline faded away, and you found yourself wishing it didn't. The thrill was addicting, as was the freedom that came with it. It was like a rollercoaster, or watching How to Train Your Dragon in 4D for the first time, only a hundred times better.

Miles had never taken you swinging. He'd never exactly told you why, always brushing off your request with something like a 'maybe later' or 'I can't right now', but you knew why.

Swinging together was a him and Gwen thing.

And you were fine with that.

What, like you were gonna be jealous about something as small as that? Pfft. No way. Nope. Nada.

“¿Estás bien?” Miles asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You nodded in confirmation.

The two of you pried open a vent using the gloves of your suit, which was easier than you’d expected it to be. To your surprise, the claws that extended from them were very useful.

“We’re in.” You muttered as you crawled into the duct, hoping Aaron wasn’t having any trouble on his end. He’d been awful quiet… Then again, no news is good news on a mission, right?

Miles crawled in after you. “You remember the way?”

“Yeah.”

Together you made your way to the underground levels of the building, miraculously avoiding any possible dead ends or mouse traps. That musty smell of mold and concrete reached your senses as you reached the deeper parts.

There weren’t many people at the Super Collider, thanks to the diversion and timing. Miles gestured for you to stay put as he swiftly dropped out of the vents, knocking out the few guards there one by one with relative ease. It was strange seeing him fight; so similar to yet completely different from him. You were doing as told and observing from the vents until you saw one of the last three people — a scientist, by the looks of it — sneaking up on Miles from behind while he was preoccupied with the two other guards.

You quickly dropped down from your spot, landing behind the guard and catching him by surprise as he whirled around with his weird-techy-science gun. Dropping to the ground, you swept your leg under his, toppling him over and knocking the weapon out of his hands. You were about to knock him out when—

“Peter Parker?”

Are you kidding me?

You were certain it was him. This Peter was scrawnier, his hair more sandy blond than Peter Parker’s back home (before he passed, anyway), and he wore thick, black-rimmed glasses that perched awkwardly on his slightly crooked nose. But the ID that read ‘Peter Parker’ in big bold letters around his neck was a pretty solid indicator.

“…Yes?” He almost squeaked out.

Meanwhile, Miles had dealt with the two guards, stepping over them to get to the console. “Sácalo y entra ahí.” He called, fumbling a little as he tried to figure out which buttons to push to fire up the Collider.

“We have a bit of a situation..” You said, pulling Peter up by his arm and dragging him to the console as well.

You gave him a hushed explanation of your unwillingness to hurt the guy, and how you believed he was genuinely a good person. After all, this universe was almost the same as yours, right? Peter Parker couldn’t be that different here…

“And besides, he probably knows how to work this thing. It’d be helpful.”

Miles sighed. “…Fine, I won’t knock him out,” He agreed. Turning to Peter, he asked, “How do you start the Collider?”

Peter gulped, everything in his body language screaming ‘I want to run away’. “You- you need codes,” He stammered out. “Approval codes, from—”

“Don’t care.” Miles cut him off, giving him a brief glance at the goober. “Just start it. ¿Lo pilla?”

Peter nodded hastily and got to work, pressing buttons and switching levers as you made your way down to the Super Collider. There was a catwalk that ran from one side of the machine to the other, connecting the two mechanisms. If you got to the middle of it, you could jump off and into the portal once the Collider was at full output. Sure enough, its huge metal plates clinked and clattered as they slowly sprung to life.

This was it. You were finally going home.

Just then, you heard a thunk along with some choice words in Spanish, and looked over to the source to see Peter out cold on the ground.

“He got to the panic button!” Miles said, scowling to himself as he plugged in the goober, praying that this plan would work out in the next minute or so. Bubble-like particles appeared at the two points of the machine that faced each other, the noise it emitted now making it so that you could only properly make out what Miles was saying through your earpiece.

The Collider whirred and sputtered as the bubbles grew bigger and brighter, eventually bursting into two beams of light that met each other in the middle, creating one big sphere with a bunch of little bubbles going in and out of it and surrounding it. The sphere grew larger and larger until it collapsed in on itself, sprouting thin, curvy lines.

The thing grew bigger and bigger until it was about the size of a person, you could feel it starting to pull you in. You just had to wait for Miles’s go ahead—

Ow.

What the hell?

You were suddenly sprawled on the ground, something having tackled you at what felt like a hundred miles an hour. That something — or rather, someone — skid to a halt just a few feet away from you, dragging a hand across the tiled floor and leaving… scratch marks?

Scrambling to your feet, you crouched in a defensive stance as you looked over the newcomer.

There wasn’t a single inch of skin showing, their suit covering the whole of their person. The suit in question was mostly white, with some gray sprinkled in here and there. It reminded you of Eve from Wall-E or a Stormtrooper, maybe a mix of both. Strangely enough, the mask was just a blank slate; a sleek, white panel with no features or details, kind of like one of those LED face masks.

Overall it was kind of… boring? It didn’t inspire fear nor did it seem very imposing or something of the sort, which you’d think would be a priority for a villain organization. If anything it was bland, the only thing that stood out from the suit being its hands which donned gauntlets that looked similar to yours, but slimmer and more polished, more accurately described as gloves rather than gauntlets. They had claws just like yours, albeit they looked sharper, a bit more gnarled.

“Miles?” You called, your heartbeat quickening. “What’s going on?”

You heard a grunt from his end. You didn’t look to see what was happening, not daring to take your eyes off of your attacker, but you guessed that backup from Peter’s panic signal had arrived.

“What’s going on?” Aaron echoed, his voice slightly fuzzy. Before you could answer, your attacker lunged. You managed to doge a full on body slam, but they grabbed your arm instead, using it to flip you over their body and knocking the wind out of you.

You writhed as you hit the ground, managing to rip your arm out of their grasp and landing a kick on their ankle, causing them to stumble. You took the opportunity to get up and put some distance between the two of you, though you didn’t get far before the lunatic started chasing you. They jumped at you again but you turned around at the last second, and as you were pushed back with their claws digging into your shoulders you kicked both of your legs out into their stomach just as your back hit the ground, sending them straight over your head.

“Tìo, get your nephew, now!” You shouted, rolling away just in time to avoid a punch that landed on the floor where your head had been just a second ago. “It all went to shit, get him out!”

The pull from the Collider was getting stronger, tiny scraps like bolts and papers flying through the air and towards the beam of light. You raced back to the catwalk but were once again stopped by the 29th century Stormtrooper. You yelped as you felt something grab the back of your neck, sharp claws piercing through your suit and digging into your skin as your head was thrown harshly against a metal beam.

And just like that, you were on the ground. Again. What was this, like, the third time? Fourth? Great. Just fantastic.

I’m not even supposed to be here, you thought, grabbing at your opponent’s wrists as their hands wrapped around your neck, slowly choking you. They were stronger than you were, faster, clearly more skilled. What were you thinking? You’re not a fighter — you couldn’t beat them, not like this.

Why was the universe so intent on making you miserable? You were just trying to get home, maybe not die. Not dying would be nice. But no. You couldn’t have nice things, could you? Not your own life, not Miles, your own damn parents were happier in a reality where you weren’t in the picture—

A sudden surge of anger made you lash out. The universe could go fuck itself. You weren’t dying like this. Not when your ticket home was right in front of you.

Your gauntlet caught your attacker’s mask, knocking it off.

You knew that face.

It was the same face that looked back at you every time you looked at a mirror.

Well, not exactly, you supposed. There was a certain roughness in her features, the same as how Miles looked different from Miles. But you’d know those eyes anywhere. But they were… what’s the word, fuzzy? Unfocused? It was like her body was on autopilot while her brain was off in Hawaii or something.

The thing you did next could’ve won you the prize for ‘smartest dumb decision of the year’.

In all your oxygen-deprivated brilliance, you retracted your mask.

It might shake her, was your reasoning. It would confuse anyone to see a doppelgänger in a fight.

Or, you know, it could go totally wrong and she could punch your face in. But you were already getting choked, so, what was there to lose?

And it worked.

Her eyes shifted back into focus as her grip slackened, and you quickly shoved her — or is it you? yourself? — off, gasping for air. You could vaguely make out the outline of a giant scorpion-guy going one-on-one with Miles, who seemed to be holding out pretty well. He was favoring his left hand though, when usually he used his right.

“I— wha—? Where—” You heard from your left. Your alternate universe counterpart looked around the lab, her eyes wide and movements jerky like a wild animal on drugs.

You were about to say something when a loud buzzing came through your comm, which had evidently been damaged in the whole head-beam connection thing. Miles’s voice came through in broken pieces.

“Col— get..t— ov-rload—”

The Collider. The goober could only force an incomplete system to run for so long. Your time was up.

Wonderful.

A flash of blinding light came from the machine as it malfunctioned. The goober could only make an incomplete system work for so long. You were just able to get your helmet back on before everyone in the vicinity was pushed back in an explosion. Was that Aaron—?

After your temporary blindness wore off, you made out the aftermath, a high-pitched ringing in your ear as you dazedly looked around. The glass that separated the control area from the Collider had been shattered, the Scorpion twitching as he tried to get to his feet — did he have feet? Now’s really not the time — There was no sign of Miles or Aaron anywhere, which was either very good or very bad. You decided to believe it was the former for your own sake. A short distance away from you was another you, that one unconscious but still breathing, from the looks of it.

Grabbing your variant, you ripped open a vent on the wall before the Scorpion could take notice of either of you, shoving her in before following suit and placing the vent cover back on. You had to get out of here. Fast.

I AM BEGGING someone to make a GOOD fanfic about a badass spider-woman and everyone is down-bad for her and she’s independent and intimidating??? all i need is a good across the spider verse story that i can imagine myself in and giggle to before i die.