#iivri writes ˚·⊹ ⟢˖∿

[11vr1]

Been Away ⭒ Miles Morales

Synopsis › You were tired of his secrets and lies, so you did the one thing you promised you’d never do and walked away. But Miles Morales wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Inspo › “Been Away” - Brent Faiyaz

Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, Angst, the tiniest bit of fluff, pet names, spanish, a microscopic amount of manipulation, toxicity, going back to your ex, stalking, harassment, mentions being mugged, mentions being stabbed, mentions the police

P.S. › I do my best work when I’m sleep deprived.

P.S.S. › Reading comments and reblogs really make my day, even if you’re telling me my commas suck. Requests are also open.

Y/n pulled down the sleeves of her crocheted sweater as she stepped out of the bodega, white plastic bag of chips and candy in hand. The sun was close to setting behind skyscrapers and plunging New York City into its usual state of terror. It was dangerous to be alone on the streets, but Y/n figured she’d be fine walking a few blocks to her friend’s place. She pushed through sidewalk traffic, passing others who were just as eager to be safe in their homes.

Her phone chimed with a text.

Unknown: Turn left.

She paused, looking up to scan her surroundings. There was nothing strange or out of place. Just stores closing up for the night and people minding their own business. Despite how normal everything seemed to be, Y/n knew better. She spared a glance at the alley to her left, immediately deciding against it and kept walking.

Another chime. She ignored it and the next. Stopping wasn’t worth possibly ending up on the eleven o’clock news. At least that’s what she told herself. The less rational part of her mind had a thought. In some ways more terrifying than being mugged.

Tucked away in her pocket, her phone rang. This time she checked. Unknown. Y/n scoffed, rejecting the call.

Unknown: One more chance.

Unknown: Take a left.

Unknown: I won’t ask again.

Her phone rang once more. With a long, begrudging sigh Y/n swiped to accept. “I thought you weren’t going to ask again,” she said, her eyes darting warily to the darkening street.

“Make a left, Y/n,” a deep distorted voice ordered from the other line. Her heart dropped. Maybe the irrational part of her brain wasn’t as off kilter as she thought. The call hung up like she didn’t need anymore convincing.

The yawning mouth of an alley stared back at her. She took a calming breath, inhaling the morning rain before stepping away from any potential witnesses. Her footsteps echoed in the eerie silence of the alley. Her skin heated in either fear or anticipation, she didn’t know. “I don’t have all night,” she spoke into the open air. “I will leave.” Y/n attempted to hide the tremble in her throat.

Her ringtone was shrill in the alley. She jumped. The bright smiling photo of her friend illuminated her face. She did not hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“Thank god! You’re still alive. Are you close?”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, Ellie,” Y/n began to exit the alley. “The bodega line was long.” She rustled her haul of snacks.

“It’s getting dark. I can send my brother to meet you. Ya know he’s always had a bit of a thing for you and now that you’re single…” Ellie trailed off. Y/n could practically hear her smile.

She rolled her eyes, laughing nervously, “You don’t have to make him come get me. I’ll be—” She was cut off by her own scream ripping from her throat. A streak of darkness and neon flashed in front of her, swiping the phone from her hand. Her grocery bag tumbled to the concrete as she stumbled over her heels. Cold metal met her back. A well defined arm snaked around her waist, held her impossibly tight.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Her friend’s voice rose over the speakers.

The smooth phone screen pressed against her cheek. “Tell her you’re okay then hang up,” the same warped voice demanded in her ear.

Y/n felt her lips move before he ended the call. Some quick lie about a monstrous rat. Blood thrummed through her skull along with her ragged breaths.

“Let me go!” Y/n wrestling out of his grip with no resistance, finally turning around. She halted. Pixelated eyes narrowed at her. What had she been expecting? Was a mask better?

Getting slashed for the money in her wallet and being left for dead by a dumpster was starting to sound more appealing than her current situation.

Mechanic panels whirred and parted open. Rich, penetrating dark eyes took in every inch of the girl in front of him, peeling back layer after layer in that calculating glare Y/n knew all too well. “Hola, mami.”

She hoped to never hear that name fall from anyone’s lips. Much less his. Y/n allowed a selfish moment to let her gaze wander. His braids were fresh, obviously not her work. Fade clean. Jay’s untied. Bronze skin annoyingly flawless. He was the same, except for the faint bags decorating his eyes. His chuckle bounced off the brick walls, catching her. It was sobering.

“You have one minute, Morales. One minute before I run screaming and call the feds on your ass,” she crossed her arms.

“Morales?” Miles raised an eyebrow. “Damn. Is that what we doin’ now?”

“Fifty.”

He circled her like the predator he was, each footstep deafening. “You look good, ma. Where you goin’ so late? It’s not safe.”

“You know where! You’ve been following me, remember? How long have you been doing that for? Just another secret, huh?” Y/n was on the verge of yelling, her initial fear replaced by pure rage. “You’re not even going to deny it.”

Miles dared a step forward. Y/n took two back. “You’re afraid of me.” Her lack of an answer was a shattering confirmation.

“I’m afraid of what you do, Miles,” she motioned to his suit, the spray painted insignia physically painful to see on his chest. The Prowler. She would have never fathomed the possibility if she hadn’t seen him in action herself. “You’re a criminal. You steal. You’ve killed people,” she choked trying to swallow back tears.

He dragged a gloved hand down his face. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right! I don’t get it. You changed and I don’t understand why.” Her waterline welled. Three months of suppressed feelings threatened to rear their ugly heads when he was near. Because of him, of course.

It was ironic how much he made her feel, even now. Ellie, other friends, Y/n’s family never fully warmed up to Miles. He was unfeeling, nonchalant, closed off. They couldn’t see how a girl like her could fall for him and stay. At least that’s the promise she made.

“So did you. You walked away. Left me. What happened to our forever, Y/n?”

“You expected nothing to change? In what world would I not react or feel some typa way?” She tensed. Another wave of anger seared through her veins. How dare he turn this on her? “Oh wait,” her laugh was humorless. “I was never supposed to find out.”

“I have to do this. The world ain’t right and I need to protect the people I care about,” he placed a hand over his armor, over his chest. “I couldn’t do shit about my dad, but you…” He stalked closer. This time she didn’t back away.

Miles grasped her hand, placing it over his heart. She couldn’t face his intensity for too long, not without air. He wore the same musky cologne she gifted him for Christmas.“Mirame,” he tilted her delicate face towards him. “Mi corazón, I can keep you safe. You gotta let me. If something happened to you I don’t know what I would do.” His chiseled features twisted, barely able to utter the words. He finally closed the space between them, resting his forehead against hers.

“One minute,” Y/n whispered. It had been more than one minute.

Without separating, he slowly slipped her phone into her back pocket, letting his fingers linger by the waist of her jeans. “Call them. I’ll stay right here and you can end this. You’ll never have to see me again. Prometo, mi corazón.”

She should have listened when Ellie told her to stay away. Undeniably gorgeous, genius level intellect, sexy accent. There was always a catch, she said. She was right. But there was one drawback not even her best friend predicted.

Y/n pulled away. Suddenly the autumn air was too chilly through her sweater. She unlocked her phone. Typed 9-1-1. She looked up through her lashes at Miles as if he would melt into the shadows and escape. She didn’t expect sheer defeat to paint his face, unhidden behind his usual mask of indifference. Her thumb froze.

Miles Morales had Y/n entranced. He’d woven himself into her being, hollowed out a space in her soul just for him. Those titanium claws were in deep and she didn’t know if she had the strength to pry them out or wanted to.

Y/n pocketed her phone. She resigned to every emotion she harbored for the boy in front of her. She chose every wrong decision. “Go, Miles.”

His grin was smug. “Should I call you?”

“Don’t push it, Morales.” He draped his arms around her shoulders, dragged her into his warmth. “I’ll unblock you. Sound good?”

Miles angled his head. His smile stretched to his eyes, showing those rarely seen dimples. “Sí, mami. Whatever you want.”

[11vr1]

Still Yours ⭒ Miles Morales

Part one: Been Away

Synopsis › You’re still his. You just need a little reminder.

Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Reader

Inspo › “Still Yours (feat. Big Sean)” - Bryson Tiller, Big Sean

Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, angst, fluff, swearing, Spanish, toxicity, going back to your ex, man has a staring problem, stalking, mentions of violence, manhandling i think?, kissing, terrible grammar, maybe some continuity errors (don’t think about it too hard)

P.S. › I had to write this part on my phone because my house has no wi-fi. Forgive me.

You were a vision as your head threw back in laughter at something your friend said. Absolute perfection in the way your uniform fits in all the right places and the gentle swoop of your edges framing your glowing skin in the harsh fluorescent lighting. It was aggravating. “When did she get that?” Miles’ rich eyes narrowed at you and your group of friends.

His best friend looked up from his phone in your direction. He didn’t need to ask who she was. “Get what?” he sighed, already sensing where this conversation was headed.

“Her lipgloss.” He tilted his head. “It’s Fenty.”

Ganke couldn’t remember when Miles became a makeup enthusiast, but he knew he was a Y/n expert. “And how do you know that?” he asked in disbelief. Their lunch periods had turned into a sort of Y/n watching session since your mysterious separation. He was over it and tired of watching his friend not-so-subtly stare at his not-ex-girlfriend. It was sad and getting a little creepy.

“It’s her favorite brand, but the shade’s darker. She’s never worn it before.” Miles’ food was left untouched, too preoccupied with the sight of you. You must’ve been doing this on purpose, he thought. Sitting directly in his eye line with your annoying ass group of friends. And Drew Harris, Brooklyn Vision’s resident dickhead jock, sat a little too close to you.

Ganke shrugged, turning back to his game. “I don’t know, man. It looks like the one she always wears.”

Miles tore his gaze away to face Ganke. His eyes hardened to an icy glare. “Why do you know what color she usually wears?”

“Chill, dude,” he rolled his eyes. “This break up is actually making you go insane.”

“We didn’t break up,” he snapped, but who was he fooling? Ganke was spot on. Miles was increasingly on edge, waiting. He’d texted and called multiple times since last weekend when finally spoke to you for the first time in weeks. But you didn’t respond or pick up. At this rate you were going to block him…again. Just when he thought everything was piecing itself back together, you slipped away out of his reach.

Ganke stood up with his trash. He had better things to do than watch his best friend run himself to the ground over a girl who obviously wanted nothing to do with him. “Broken up or taking a break, either way you’re miserable. You need to figure your shit out or move on before you burn a hole in the side of her head.”

Miles waved him off, not showing his words struck a chord. Moving on wasn’t an option. You were on his mind twenty four hours a day, seven days a week without fail. The thought of you waiting for him safe and sound kept him alive while he committed every crime in the book. Everything he did was for you, to keep you protected in this twisted city. Nothing was going to ruin his forever, not even you.

⋆

“Why not Drew?” Ellie suddenly asked while they walked the halls away from the cafeteria. You could tell she was enjoying having you back with their friends. “He’s all over you. You guys would be perfect,” she gushed, practically skipping across the tile.

You gave her a stern look, “Ellie.” You hated to burst her bubble, but she was too eager for you to be single. “I’m not interested in Drew Harris.”

“Okay, picky,” she hummed in thought for a moment. “Erik Falls? He’s on the basketball team and I heard he thinks you’re gorgeous,” she tried again. You stopped at Ellie’s locker. You weren’t going to ask where she heard such a rumor or why it seemed she had a mental list of the single male population.

You shook your head. A new relationship was the last thing on your mind. Miles was it for you, the one who made your heart sing, the man who made you believe you could be loved like in the stories. No one could compare, especially not a couple of immature jocks who would eventually become mere blimps in the timeline of your life. If only there wasn't a plot twist. “Despite what you think, I am more than happy being single. A new man is not on my list of priorities.”

“If you say so. You’ve just been so down since…” Ellie’s wide eyes briefly glanced over your shoulder. “I thought you and Miles weren’t together anymore?” her voice lowered to a sharp whisper.

Your response stalled, caught off guard by the question. Did Ellie know you and Miles had spoken? You didn’t want to imagine what kind of hell would be unleashed if she found out. “Of course not,” you forced a laugh. “Why?”

“Don’t look, but he’s at your locker!” she scowled, tossing her books back into her locker. “Don’t worry, girl. I got this.” Ellie pulled the earrings from her lobes along with her stack of bracelets, mumbling something about the “little creep.” She never hid her distaste for Miles, the two bumping heads more than once the duration of your relationship.

Against your better judgment, you looked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. Miles Morales leaned against your locker like he owned it. With his shirt untucked and tie loosened, he never failed to make the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

You stopped her before she stalked off in a fury. “Hold on, let me talk to him. I’m sure it’s nothing.” You didn’t even sound convincing to yourself.

Ellie drummed her fingers, lips pursed as she looked between you and the boy over your shoulder, skepticism written all over her face. “Fine, go ahead, Y/n. But I swear if he tries anything, I’m coming for his ass,” she pointed, making sure to shoot him a steely glower.

“I’ll be alright,” you assured her, already walking away.

You finally approached Miles, rolling your eyes at the enigmatic smirk on his lips. “You ignoring me, ma?” He asked, his gaze never leaving your face as you fiddled with the combination on your locker. “I thought we was good.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you, Miles. I just…” you struggled to explain without sounding like you were in fact avoiding him. Did he really think cornering you in an alley would fix everything? “I still needed a bit of space.”

He was clearly unsatisfied, but held his tongue. Instead he nodded his head. “Let’s take a walk, princesa.”

“I can’t,” you stuttered out, unable to trust yourself around Miles. Ignoring his messages took everything in you, so used to spending hours of your day spamming him with the most trivial things when you weren’t together.

“Yes you can. You have a free period.” Of course he had your schedule memorized. Nothing could get past Miles. He entwined your fingers in his, enveloping you with the rough calluses of his palms and dragging you through the halls without care for the curious stares directed your way.

The usual commotion of the city hit your ears as Miles swung open the rooftop door. Fond memories of your favorite meet up spot came flooding back, the late nights Miles would help you study for a Spanish test or when he simply wanted to sit in silence and bask in your presence. You’d fallen in love here over and over again, the stars and city skyline your only witness.

Miles had yet to release you from his hold, savoring your touch after being starved for so long.

He wasn’t going to let you go, not when you were finally where you belonged. “We need to talk.”

“We’re talking now, aren’t we?” No one wanted to hear those dreaded four words.

Your attempt at humor was not appreciated. His grip squeezed your hands in a gentle, but firm warning. “I’m done playin’ your little games, mami. This back and forth shit ain’t gon’ work. I need you to be straight with me.”

The impending weight of the conversation began to settle on your shoulders. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Miles. That I’m totally fine with you being the Prowler and everything can go back to normal?” You avoided his gaze, choosing the cerulean sky knowing his gaze could pull whatever he wanted from you if you dared to stare too long. “You lied to me for the better part of our relationship. Where you go, what you’re doing, who you are and if you’re okay, like really okay. I can’t trust you!”

Too much had been broken for you to go back. And you tried! Lord knows you fucking tried. You hid your tears when Miles missed a date, coming up with some lame excuse. Or the days he’d return and couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. Your mind turned to the worst. Doubt festered where trust should have been. But you held on just as fast as Miles held onto you now.

Now you know the reality and it scared you more than any possibility you came up with.

Miles listened to the cracks in your pretty voice, seeing the damage he caused. He never hated himself more. Ripping out throats and cracking skulls he could stand, but the sight of those crystal tears nearly broke him. “Mi corazón...” A large pad tenderly wiped a droplet from the smoothness of your cheeks. “Lo siento.”

“Say what you have to say, Morales. You can’t keep wasting my time.” You forced yourselves apart to furiously rid the traitorous tears. He didn’t deserve them.

“‘A waste of time?’” he repeated incredulously. Miles grabbed your left wrist, tugging down the sleeves of your navy blazer to reveal the golden bracelet you wore and its various charms. The cursive “M” dangled in your face, mocking you and your devotion to him. “Is that what this is?” He fished the delicate chain from beneath his own uniform where he wore your name closest to his heart. “Are you done with me? Was all this pointless to you, Y/n?” he nearly shouted, doing his best to keep what little composure he had left.

The answer had never been more simple. “No, of course not,” you said. “I don’t regret loving you. I just can’t keep loving half of you when you already have all of me.”

Shock filled the silence between you. “You love me?”

“Yes, dumbass!” You pushed against his chest. He didn’t budge, too stunned to breathe properly. “I know you won’t say it back but I don’t care. You should already know.”

Miles cradled your head and leaned down, your noses touching, sharing the same air. “Say it again,” he ghosted your lips.

Your knees weakened, his heat creating a haze of solely him in your mind. You studied the gentle contours of his face, the fullness of his lips, the healed scar on the edge of his right brow, someone only as close as you could see. An inch was all you needed to think, but you were snatched back. “Miles,” you gasped in surprise, steadying yourself in his arms. Through layers of fabric, you felt the rapid rhythm of Miles' heart and you were positive he could feel yours.

“Dilo de nuevo,” he commanded, pressing your body against his in a vice and yet you were still too far. “Por favor, para mi.”

“I love you,” you began, but Miles cut you off as he eradicated the damned space between you. Your mouth parted, the taste of spice and uniquely him familiar, like loving Miles was a reflex you’d always succumb to.

You relented to your need to breathe, still cradling Miles’ face in your hands. “Te amo también, mi corazón.” You never thought he would return the words and you’ve never been happier to be wrong. “Let me do it right this time. Be mine again. No more secrets, no more lies. Prometo.”

One chance was all Miles needed to gain access to your heart. You should have kept his number blocked, called the police like you threatened to do, but his determination was endless. He wanted you and here you were in his embrace saying, “I’ll always be yours, Miles.” You reached on your toes to steal another kiss, consuming as much of him as you desired. The pink of his tongue peeked out as he licked the sticky glitter from his lips. You moved to wipe the remaining gloss about to apologize before he took your mouth again, his teeth teasing the delicate skin.

“It is new.”

[11vr1]

Morning ⭒ Shuri Udaku

Synopsis › A brief look into a rare morning waking up with Queen Shuri. 

Pairing › Shuri x Singer! Fem Reader

Inspo › “Morning” - Teyana Taylor, Kehlani

Includes › Fluff, non-sexual nudity, non-sexual intimacy, they in love in love, tiny bit of insecurity, Shuri not taking care of herself, touch, skin to skin, they have good hygiene, reader is lazy, singer!reader

P.S. ›  I know the song is absolutely filthy and this is not but I’ve never written smut. Even this was a stretch for me. 

P.S.S. › This is the first fic I've ever posted. Pls, be nice to ya girl. She’s sensitive but loves any kind of feedback. Let me know how you feel about these two. They might become a little series.

You felt a warm pair of lips press tenderly against your skin, traveling along your arm, inching towards your sleeping face. The sun streamed in through the floor to ceiling windows, flooding the queen’s quarters with the white gold of its light. Shuri was always up and ready to greet the day before you. “Morning has arrived, sthandwa wami,” the raspy voice of your lover roused you from your rest. My love. 

“Tell it to go away,” you mumbled, shuffling underneath the satin sheets, finding warmth in her embrace. There was no place you’d rather be than in her arms. Behind closed doors, Shuri was yours and yours alone. Her title didn’t follow her here. During moments like this, she was simply a woman trying to wake her girlfriend. 

Shuri grazed the tips of her fingers across the flesh of your thigh. Her touch left a trail of fire in its wake. She slipped under the band of your lace panties, quickly pulling and letting it snap. The smirk spread was sly as you jerked slightly. “It's past time we got up. Besides, my arm is going numb.” 

“Ow! Fine. Fine. I'm awake.” Finally, you relinquished her arm from your capture, sighing long and deep at the loss of your pillow. The queen chuckled as she untangled the rest of your limbs with no help from your limp body.

“Griot?” Shuri spoke to the empty air. 

“Good morning, your majesty.”

The covers fell from her body, displaying the sculpted bronze planes of her bare back. You sat up to admire the view. All those years of agonizing pining were worth it, you thought. “What's on the schedule today?” 

The disembodied AI listed both yours and the queen’s agenda. You planned a relaxing, stress free day in the studio for yourself. The queen on the other hand was expected by the elders. 

It took everything in you to leave the comfort of Shuri’s enormous sized bed and make the cold trek to the bathroom. You turned on the shower, periodically checking its temp then stripped the little clothing you had on. “Are you going to join me?” you asked, leaning back to peer through the open door to see her staring at her kimoyo beads. “I thought I was the slow one.” The water from the rain drip head cascaded down the length of your body, effectively chasing away the rest of your drowsiness. 

Two tattooed arms draped around your shoulders. “I am here.” The stealth of the Panther often took you by surprise. The feeling of Shuri’s touch against yours was indescribable. Nothing could compare. You’d hardly noticed the soft beat of your shared playlist began to play. 

She took it upon herself to lather shea body wash across your skin, talking sweet nothings in your ear while christening you with chaste kisses along the way. “Do you have time for lunch today?” you leaned back to gaze into the depths of her onyx eyes, your own hopeful.

“I will make time.” 

“Griot, don’t let her forget.” 

“I won't, miss.” 

“You don’t trust me?” she teased, tilting your head further back, leaving suds across your cheek. 

You turned around to face her, eyebrow raised. “Hhayi.” No. Your response was straight forward, yet remained light hearted. She was working herself ragged these days, barely taking time to rest. More than once you found her in the lab, lids heavy, back hunched uncomfortably over her work station. “I know you too well to leave you be. You stand me up, I'm coming to snatch your ass.” The running water did nothing to drown out your shared laughter. She knew you meant it. 

You grabbed Shuri’s soap and washed her in return down the valley of her breasts to the toned abs of her torso. Each stroke carried your love. “I'm serious, though. Take a break sometime today,” you added. Caring for her was an honor. Bast knew she wouldn’t if it were solely up to her. 

The Panther ceased your motions by grasping your hand in her own. “I promise.” She closed the already small distance between you, brushing the tip of your nose, “I appreciate your concern for me. I don't deserve—” 

You promptly shushed her with your own lips. Her taste was irresistible, uniquely Shuri’s. No one in Wakanda could get away with interrupting the queen except you. “None of that. You deserve plenty.” 

Her arms snaked around your waist, feeling your natural contours, finding a place within the slope of your neck. Heady breaths stuck to the droplets dancing on your skin. She stilled to cherish this moment, already beginning to dread having to part. “I'm just blessed to have you.” 

“And I you.” You gave her one last peck on the cheek before turning the shower off. “You’re ntomb’am. While you’re going out there to save the world or whatever, I’ll be here for you.” My girl. 

“The legendary Black Panther’s protector,” she laughed, guiding you out of the stand-in. “It has a nice ring to it. My enemies will fear you.” She might’ve thought it was funny, but you couldn’t find the humor. Shuri was your intombi, your girl. What you wouldn’t give for the promise of more sunshine-flavored mornings like these.

[11vr1]

Now hear me out here… Miles Earth 42 x F!Reader dancing Bachata🤭 Orrr something like they are at a party and a family friend decides to dance a rather romantic song with us so Miles gets jealous. So many different scenarios with Bachata and dancing I wouldn’t mind fluff either where like they dance in the living room or smth I just love Bachata and romantic dancing ♥️😊

-J

Eres Mía ⭒ Miles Morales

Synopsis › Miles gets jealous and a nearly gets into a fight, so he makes it up to you by teaching you bachata.

Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Inspo › Request.

Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, tooth rotting fluff, swearing, bad Spanish, jealousy, pet names, a tiny bit suggestive

P.S. › Thank you for this ask! I had so much fun. A nice change from the angst. <33

P.S.S. › I am now making a taglist!!! Lemme know if you wanna be on it. I also think I want to find mutuals and get more involved in the community…

When Miles asked Y/n to be his plus one, she almost couldn’t believe it. His delivery was cool and casual as if he didn’t invite her to a party with all of his family and closest family friends in attendance. They had become official a little over a month ago (though Miles swears it’s been longer), so the first family gathering was a big deal, a huge milestone most couples put off until much later. When she tried to explain to her boyfriend the significance of this event, he didn’t understand. “Don’t start stressin’. It’s jus’ my abuela’s birthday party,” she remembered him saying.

Abuela?

Abuela!

If his grandmother was anything like Rio Morales, Y/n would be walking into a lion’s den. Miles did nothing to placate her worries, making her do the exact thing he told her not to do: worry.

The weekend had arrived and so did the much anticipated birthday party. Y/n spent a considerable amount of time getting ready, choosing a tie front top with a cami underneath and satin skirt to combat the sweltering city heat. She double checked every angle in the mirror before leaving her apartment.

The corners of the gift envelope addressed in her elegant script were slightly bent from being clutched in her nervous hands all the way to Harlem. It was easy to find the building. Y/n simply followed the booming sound of music and laughter to the rooftop. The party was already in full swing. Half of New York showed up to celebrate Gloria Morales’ 70th birthday.

Y/n moved through the packed party-goers to the gift table, not seeing a single familiar face amongst them. She felt out of place. Does she introduce herself? Wait? Look for Miles? Certainly he wouldn’t leave her to brave his family alone. A tinge of panic settled in her stomach as she looked again.

“You lost, babygirl?” Y/n nearly jumped out of her skin hearing a strange voice beside her. The boy was taller than her and around her age or a little older. His feather duster of a mustache curved with his smirk as his leering eyes roved her head to toe slowly. Painfully slow.

She prickled, immediately raising her guard. “No, I’m just waiting for someone.” He glanced around, seeing everyone engrossed in their own conversations.

“I ain’ never seen you round here before. What’s your name?” Y/n hesitated to answer, but gave him a curt reply. “Thas cute. Real cute.” This was a party after all, the point was to mingle. And she didn’t want to seem rude. She had no idea who this guy was. He might’ve been a cousin, a family friend, someone who could easily say the wrong thing to the right person about her. “You know how to dance?” The night was starting to look very long.

Where was Miles?

⋆

Miles was very late. On his way, but late. His mother has surely noticed his absence by now. Abuela was definitely asking about him. And Y/n…she was probably already there. He cursed himself underneath his mask. That last job was pushing it. There was no time to go home, change, and take the subway like he originally planned. Luckily, he knew a shortcut through the skyscrapers and shadows of New York.

The window of his abuela’s apartment squeaked as it slid open. Miles rushed to shed his Prowler persona in the guest bedroom and stuff the suit in his bag. In a second, he appeared to be a normal teenage boy despite the forming bruises. He prepared himself to face the wrath of his mother, grandmother, and girlfriend. What he was not prepared for was seeing Y/n about to be pulled to the dance floor by another guy. They were close. Too close for his liking.

Something burned inside Miles, one he was reluctant to identify—jealousy. Dare he say doubt? He was new to the boyfriend thing. Sometimes he said the wrong thing, silent at the wrong times. But he tried. Was Y/n already fed up? There was no denying she was gorgeous. She could pull any guy she wanted.

He stalked closer, effortlessly weaving through the crowd. “Oh, come on! I’m not asking you to marry me. Just one song.” The guy tugged at her again. Miles recognized him. Eric and his family were friends, though Miles only endured his presence when they were forced to be in the same place. They’d never gotten along, finding each other to be a nuisance and a relationship beyond neutrality unnecessary. But that little understanding might just end right here, this was not about to fly on his watch.

“I told you I don’t want to dance,” Y/n separated herself out of his grip. The sheer expression of disgust on her amused Miles. She found him as annoying as he did.

Eric made the mistake of reaching towards her again. He had the chance to back off and it sounded like he had been warned more than once. This was not about to fly. Miles decided it was time to interfere. He swiftly placed himself at Y/n’s side, his footsteps soundless, a skill learned from his…side hobby. “La escuchaste, cabrón. Retrocede.” Venom laced his tone, an unspoken threat at the tip of his tongue. The air turned to ice around the three of them. You heard her, cabrón. Back off.

The confidence drained from Eric’s face. He knew good and well Miles was not to be messed with. There were rumors about him and his penchant for beating anyone who pissed him off into the ground. “Ella es tu chica, Morales?” He stepped up to him in a vain attempt to mask how intimidated he really was. Miles moved Y/n behind him. She watched the standoff silently, keeping a hand on Miles’ bicep in case it went south. She’s your girl, Morales?

Miles tilted his head, sneering down at the posturing fool. “Sí, ella es mía. Ahora déjala.” Yeah, she’s mine. Now leave her alone.

“No estaba tratando de hacer nada,” Eric scoffed. He turned his attention back to the pretty girl hidden behind Miles. “If you get tired of this asshole, come find me.” I wasn’t trying to do nothing.

Miles lunged, thankfully, with some supernatural girlfriend sense, Y/n was quicker and held him back. Eric flinched, his fear visible for that split second. Heads turned. “You need to calm down, Miles.” Her hand made its way into his, gently pulling him away. He backed away, never breaking his cold glare from Eric.

⋆

Together they left the party. Miles muttered curses in Spanish Y/n couldn’t catch as he stomped down the stairs. “Miles! Miles, baby, slow down!” She called his name again. “You not ‘bout to make me run after you in these shoes!” He stopped. His jaw was tight, eyebrows set low on his face, hands burrowed in his pockets to hide his balled up fists. Damn. Even seething he was gorgeous. “We talked about this. You gotta talk to me.”

He was silent for a few moments, he merely stared down at Y/n as she wrapped her arms around his middle. His heart pounded in his chest. (It was because of her. Miles refused to admit those lustrous eyes and her touch still had such an effect on him) “Ian like seein’ you wit him. Shit pissed me off. For a minute I thought…” She fixed his collar, avoiding his gaze to keep herself from smiling. “Nothin’.” Miles was jealous and willing to protect her by any means necessary.

Y/n heard the words left unspoken. Miles was a fortress locked up tight to keep the outside world out. But behind his many walls he was a boy with feelings and insecurities. “Miles, I’d never do that. I like you too much.”

“Yeah, I know, ma. Sorry for gettin’ all upset.”

“‘S fine. That’s not what I’m mad about.” She eyed the fresh bruises coloring his cheek and temple. “Where were you?” At this point, she was more concerned than angry. Miles wasn’t inclined to long conversations, but he was decent enough to send her a text. Although dry and vague it was something. Y/n would take what she could get.

Miles stiffened in her embrace. “I had to take care of some stuff. Don’t worry ‘bout it. Lemme make it up to you.”

“You owe me a dance.” Prying it out of him would get her nowhere. She decided to let it go. Just this once.

“A dance?” he asked. She grinned, happy to catch him off guard for once.

Y/n nodded. “Mrs. Morales told me you’re a wonderful dancer. Don’t be holdin’ out on me.”

His sigh was long and deep, directed towards the ceiling of the narrow hallway. Miles was in no place to refuse. He took her hand and started walking. “Alright, but we not goin’ to the roof.”

He led her to his grandma’s apartment. It was sizable and definitely decorated by an elderly woman. Y/n admired the photos sitting on the mantle. There was Rio and Jefferson Davis, dressed in white for their wedding day. She paused on a picture of an infant covered in paint, smiling from ear to ear with two teeth. She awed at Miles. He was so cute, so carefree without the shadows of the world dragging behind him.

“Ven aquí, mami.” He stood in the middle of the living room, hands outstretched, a song playing behind him from his phone. She peeked at the song as they joined hands. Come here, mami.

“Eres Mía” by Romeo Santos.

The song was unfamiliar to her. “What? You thought you was gonna to twerk and grind on me?” His low chuckle sent shivers through her. She didn’t answer. “Nah. We gon dance for real. Bachata.”

“Wait, Miles. I don’t how to—”

“Imma teach you. Two steps to the music. Thas all it is,” he showed her. Y/n mimicked him, each step hesitant and unsure, but Miles was encouraging and a surprisingly good teacher. “See? Easy.”

He raised his arms to spin her around and brought her closer. Y/n faltered. “Aye, come on, mami. I know you can move your hips better than that.” He repositioned, hands at her back and waist, his thigh between her legs, ruffling her skirt. Miles guided her across the floor, his fingers wandering to the trim of her cami, drawing a distracting trail of heat on her bare skin. Her own hands found their way to his nape, brushing his twin braids as they swayed to the beat. Soon she found her rhythm.

“There you go,” he praised, rolling his hips into hers. She followed. Her body trusted him. She trusted him wholeheartedly and fell into his lead.

They rocked together in silence, the song having long since ended. Miles nestled in the crook of her neck to breathe in the sweet scent of her perfume. “Thank you for helping me. I should have said so earlier,” Y/n said from above him.

“It’s my job, princesa.” Miles left the softness of her neck. “Eres mía.” You are mine. Y/n blinked while he returned to her warmth. She hoped he didn’t feel the way her temperature rose.

In three short months he made a place for himself in her life. He was the most unexpected surprise. She had a list of the ideal boyfriend and Miles Morales didn’t check off a single one. Yet everything never felt more perfect than in his arms, dancing to the distant sirens and traffic.

His phone buzzed from the end table. “Is that your mom?” He shrugged in response. “We should go.” Y/n suggested, but Miles’ grip only tightened.

“One more minute. They can wait.”

[11vr1]

twelve am on a tuesday and i have the sudden urge to redo my aesthetic and page!!!

[11vr1]

KEY Fluff - ❀ Angst - ⟡ NSFW/Suggestive - ♡

{ MILES MORALES }

HOBIE BROWN

SHURI UDAKU

RIRI WILLIAMS

JORDAN LI