MOVED TO @seratopia
miles morales x reader - purple
miles takes you out to get slushies
You’re in the zone, notebooks and textbooks laid out, pens scattered everywhere, music from your headphones blasting in your headphones. You’re studying in your dorm, nodding your head to the music while you scratch down a few notes on paper.
Midterms are coming up, and you’re studying hard. Students have been clawing their way through classes like zombies, grunting and sighing to themselves like half-dead corpses.
It’s already dark outside, the only source of light in your room being the technicolor laptop screen in front of you. You hear a beeping and occasional crash outside, but that’s just New York.
At first, you don’t hear the knocking on your window, too endorsed in your music to notice. It’s only when the knocking gets louder and faster that you pause your study session.
Hesitantly pulling down your headphones, you look towards your glass window. You recognize that black suit anywhere, the one that looks like he’s bleeding from his armpits.
It’s Miles.
You get up from your desk chair, flipping the lock on the window and pushing the glass pane all the way up. Like the thousands of times he’s done before, Miles crawls through your window, stepping onto the soft carpet of your dorm.
He’s been getting bigger, stronger, lately. Only shame of that is the fact that it’s harder for him to fit through your window.
Miles dusts himself off, and you spread your arms wide for a hug with a smile on your face. He practically lands into you, squeezing you tight and forcing the air out of your lungs. He’s so happy to see you.
He sighs into your hair.
“M’ glad you’ve been keeping your window locked.“
“You said you hated it yesterday.“
“Shhh....“
The two of you unclasp, and Miles tugs his mask off his face. He presses a kiss to your temple, shifting his gaze towards the array of study materials on your desk.
“Midterms?“
“Yep.“ You say, popping the “p.“
Miles ponders for a moment, peering from the bags under your eyes to the impossibly large stack of papers on your study space. Subconsciously, he kneads a hand into your side.
“Hey, you wanna go somewhere?“
“Miles, it’s 10 at night.“
“How bout’ the 7-Eleven down the street?“
“Mmmm....“
“I’ll keep you safe. You’re lookin’ at the one and only Spiderman.“ Miles says, gesturing to himself with a smirk.
You playfully roll your eyes. “Alright. I think I need a break anyway.”
“For real.“ Miles mutters.
Miles scouts your dorm room for a jacket, maybe some sweatpants. He usually leaves clothes at your dorm anyway. You throw a pair of grey sweatpants at his head, but he catches them in his fist. Over his suit, Miles throws on a jacket, slotting his legs through the sweatpants.
It’s cold out, so you throw on a jacket, putting on slippers over your fuzzy socks. Miles shoves his mask back on just so his identity is concealed. If anyone asks, Spiderman was just saving a person who got lost
“C’mere.“ Miles says, his arms already out near your window.
You gingerly rise up on your tip-toes, wrapping your arms around Miles’s neck. He slots one hand onto the lower curve of your back, and the other where your thighs and calves meet, carrying you in a somewhat twisted princess carry.
Miles carefully inches through your tiny apartment window, and you duck your head down to make sure you don’t hit it on the way out.
Your heart already pumping in your veins, Miles jumps out into the open air, one hand slinging the both of you through Brooklyn, the other slotted underneath your upper thighs to keep you from plummeting to the ground.
You never really admit it, but you love when Miles slings you both places. The wind in your face, Miles holding you close, the sounds of New York. You adore it.
It’s not very long before the ride ends, and Miles pulls lands in a very suspicious alleyway.
“I knew you were plotting against me all along.“ You joke, and he sets you down onto the concrete. He yanks his mask off, shoving it into his jacket pocket.
The florescent lights of the 7-Eleven glow a bright white, as if it were it’s own sun. Miles pulls the door open for you, such a gentleman. You step inside, and Miles gives a nod to the cashier.
“Ooh! Slushies.“ You say, staring at the almost hypnotizing swirl of neon colors in the tank. It’s so inviting, the perfect thing to have at 10pm.
Miles already helps himself, grabbing a cup and handing one to you. As you suspect, Miles gets the blue flavor, while you get the red cherry cola. You can hear the light pop and sizzle of the slush as it pours, making you all the more thirsty.
You take a sip, and you sigh in enjoyment.
“You want anything else?“ Miles asks, and you shake your head no. He guides you with a hand on your back to the cashier counter, and the man already starts typing in the order.
Miles reaches into both jacket pockets, but no avail.
“Shit, forgot my wallet.“
A.K.A, Miles doesn’t keep his wallet on him during patrol.
“All good man, on the house.“
“Thanks, man.“
You nod, and Miles reaches his arm past your head, pushing the door open in front you. The cold air of Brooklyn engulfs you, and you can nearly see your breath cloud up.
Slowly, the both of you talk, inching back towards the dark alleyway from before. On your tip-toes again, you press a chilled kiss to Miles’s chin.
“Thanks, Miles.“
“I didn’t even buy it.“ He chuckles, shamelessly pulling you into him after taking another sip of his slush.
One thing leads to another, and Miles starts kissing you, starting from your cheeks but eventually leading down to your lips. Simultaneously, he draws you in and holds his slush with the same hand, using the other to bury it in your hair.
Miles chuckles into your mouth; it’s fun to kiss when you taste like cherry cola. Miles is taken by surprise when you boldly prod your tongue into his mouth, a blush rising high onto his face. With the slight privacy of the alleyway, Miles feels brave enough prod and poke your lips with his teeth.
When you finally let go, Miles’s face is warm in contrast to the cold air, almost hot to the touch. It’s rare when you two ever truly swap spit, but Miles thinks its special when you do.
Its a bit silent for a moment after, but neither of you can stop smiling. Miles in particular can’t stop touching you all over.
A thought pops into your head.
You rummage through your pockets for your phone, switching it on and pressing the button to activate your flashlight.
“Miles, open your mouth.“
“Woah, babe, didn’t know you were into th-“ He jokes.
“Oh my gosh Miles, it’s not that.“
Miles chuckles. He loves poking at you. As he was told, he opens his mouth, and you point the flashlight at it. You start laughing to yourself, the light of the flash flickering everywhere.
“What? Is it my face?“
“No, look!“ You pull up the selfie mode on your phone, using the brightness of your phone to the best of it’s ability. You press your cheek to Miles, sticking your tongue out for the camera.
“It’s purple!“ You cackle, and Miles starts chuckling along with you.
There’s spots on Miles’s tongue that are deeper in blue, but still nonetheless a lavender color. You giggle, snapping a few photos.
“We should try again but with different colors.” Miles smirks, slyly resting his head against your temple.
You smirk. “Just tell me you wanna make out more, Miles.”
He shrugs, dropping an arm around your shoulders. “Hmm. Maybe.“
© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.