'Star in a web~✮' || Miles Morales x Reader

「 ✦ 𝗕𝗮𝗯𝘆𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗣𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗮 ✦ 」

"Yeah, let's go c'mon. Wait I gotta get my wallet-" He began as he went to retreat to his room.

"Nuh-uh." I interrupt flatly, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket while scrolling through my timeline.

   "Nuh-uh? Whatchu mean?" He asked with genuine confusion.

   "I'm paying, it isn't an issue man don't worry." I declare, leaving no room for argument. I had always loved retail therapy. Money was never an issue for as long as I can remember. Of course, I didn't keep every penny of the money I made, but I did attain the respective sum of a child who did most of the labor. The amount of money I earned increased as I got older, with me earning approximately 3,400 dollars weekly.

   "Are you sure? Please just let me get-"

   "Nope," I remark as I drag him outside, saying goodbye to Mrs. Morales in the process.

  "Alright so, ian even gon' cap. I don't wanna move my car, cuz I'll move it and won't have anywhere to park once we come back. You cool wit' walkin'?" I ask as I bite back a laugh.

  "Yeah that's fine, I thought we was gon walk anyway." He chuckles as we begin walking in the direction of the record store. "What about your lil fanclub or whatever though? Won't they start snapping photos?" He questions.

   "I hope you run fast." I deadpan as I turn to face him.

   Luckily, we didn't run into any alterations on our way to the store. As we walked inside, we felt the cooling A/C wash over us as Miles instantly ran over to the RnB section and began examining some of the records. The inside was beautiful. It was decorated head to toe and had warming dim lighting, and the walls were littered with shelves housing various types of records. The roof had been painted a hypnotizing mural that had a small resemblance to Van Gogh's 'starry night'. The location was truly enchanting as I examined some of the records in the different aisles.

   "Yo! Miles!" I called out as I leaned over the neighboring shelf just enough for him to see me from the bust-up. "Look at what I found!" I whisper-yelled as I held up an encased vinyl of ' The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill' with a wide grin on my face.

   "That's so cool! I found something too!" He clamored gleefully as he held up the 'Bob Marley and the Wailers Catch a Fire' record before he side-eyed the display window outside and repositioned the vinyl to the side of his face. 

"Oh shit, that's mad cool! Trade with me please" I pleaded, stressing the end of my sentence for dramatic effect.

"Nuh-uh," he teased.

   "Fuck you mean nuh-uh?" I laughed, lowering myself off the shelf and making my way to the checkout. I tap my card on the reader and pay for our records before walking out of the store, chatting my head off with Miles, who was covering most of his face with his jacket. I was confused by his sudden 'shy' behavior until I saw someone with a camera to the far side east.

   "Shit," I whisper as I grab his hand and take off running. I didn't wanna get caught up in a dating scandal with one of the few boys I felt normal around. It makes talking to them awkward, knowing that somewhere in the world there are people who wholeheartedly want us together or genuinely want to harm him for even being close to me. It's a sensation of remorse and slight discomfort. Miles and I had just started getting close, and I didn't want to jeopardize that.

   Even if the paparazzi weren't following us, we continued to run. Laughing and giggling, we both silently agreed that we were chasing an adrenaline rush that we could vaguely anticipate up ahead. We were hopping fences, stumbling now and again, and jumping off flights of concrete steps. We didn't even care that it had begun to rain and our shirts were merging with our bodies like plastic sealant. The bags in our hands fill with a small amount of rainwater and make quiet rustling noises against the wet sloshes of our footprints. The rainwater crashed down on us like bullets and thunder rang out loud above us, but neither of us seemed to mind.

   "Y'KNOW...I HAVEN'T EVER BEEN," I shout out in between pants, chest heaving at the newfound stamina, "-ABLE TO RUN OUTSIDE. I'VE ALWAYS HAD SOMEONE FOLLOWING ME." I laugh, jumping into a small puddle in the road. "WE'RE SO FUCKED! WE'RE GONNA GET SO SICK LATER." I chuckle loudly, knowing I'd probably regret my decisions sometime this week.

   "WE'LL BE FINE! COME ON I KNOW A SPOT!" The taller boy yelled before taking off in the direction of an abandoned subway. If I hadn't been friends with Miles, I would've been pulled right out of my adrenaline-fed high, Instantly backing away and shying from the situation. Miles never gave me a hard time and seemed like the least threatening person ever, so I took off behind him. We jumped the fence simultaneously in a singular swift movement, hitting the dust-coated floor with a small thud.

   "HOW ARE YOU SO GOOD AT JUMPING THESE, BAMBI?" I shouted after him, my voice echoing along the soul-sucked walls of the dim subway.

   "I've had some practice" He chuckles lightly to himself as I catch up to him, turning on the flashlight on my phone.

  "So what's goin' on down here? This the chill spot?" I ask as I survey the walls. The place looks like it's been run down for several years, with cobwebs occupying most of the crevices and corners.

   "Sum like that, yeah. I got all my art supplies n stuff down here...like my sprays and my bigger canvases. I do better work when nobody bothers me." he scoffs playfully, taking a small flashlight out of his pocket and pointing it at the wall to his left. It was littered with various illustrations, all ranging from slightly different styles. My favorite one is the large "42" written in purple and green spray paint with a glitching effect.

   "You trynna do some graphics with me?" He asks as he lightly kicks the black duffle bag filled with various spray cans, a small clinking sound filling the subway. "We can go back home n change afterward if you want." He offers as he picks up a spray can and begins to sketch out the words ' #Transcending Beyond ' in his signature graffiti font.

   "Oh bet. Let's do it." I remark as I begin sketching out the words "BAMBI!" in black.

   A couple of hours passed by in comfortable silence where only the light 'sizzling' sound of our spray cans could be heard. We had both essentially finished our pieces of art and had begun to add the highlights until I ran into a small problem.

   "Miles let me on your shoulders I can't reach the top of the I" I request, raising my arm to its maximum height.

   "Alright, hold on. Be quick though I'm getting cold" He chuckles as he visibly shakes. The adrenaline has long since worn off, and we began to feel the effects of being in rain-drenched clothing. He put the cap back on his can of paint, tossed it back into his bag, and made his way over to my side. He picked me up as if I had weighed nothing at all, placing me on his shoulders gently.

   "Damn bitch!? You work out?" I yelp, rocking side to side slightly as I get acclimated to the change of perspective.

   He laughs loudly, finding genuine amusement in my question. "Sum like that...After jumping eighty thousand fences you just get stronger I guess." He chuckles.

  I finish shading my work, promptly hopping off Miles's shoulders and taking a minute to admire my work. And for someone who never spray painted in their life, I did amazing. I suddenly became aware of just how freezing I was. My brown skin slightly paled, and my hands felt tight and rubbery. Neither of us noticed, but I had been shivering the entire time. 

   "Oh, wait- hold on," Miles began as he took off his jacket, placing it on my shoulders as a makeshift way to provide any sort of warmth.

   "You d-don't need tt-to, I'll b-be fi-ine," I murmur as my teeth begin to chatter. Yeah, I'm fucked.

   "Your jaw is practically vibrating right now. Just wear the jacket, c'mon." He states as he guides me back out of the subway, walking me back to his house.

   The walk back was occupied by comfortable silence, his arm hooked around my shoulders and his hoodie over my head to block out my face from any potential cameras. The day went perfectly, considering that absolutely nothing had been planned. I felt like a teenager again for the first time in absolute years. Sure, I had financial freedom and could do whatever I wanted, but I had trapped myself in the ideology that I was being watched constantly. As a result, I had shut myself out from the world around me besides Angel and my work. It felt nice to be able to breathe again.