Ijustwannareblogstuff - Fic Recs?

just friends?

she fell first, he fell harder

wc: 2.2k

pairing: Earth-42! Miles Morales x reader

Summary: In the early years of your adolescence, you made the grave mistake of asking Miles to ‘practice kissing’ for future suitors. That mistake would come back to bite you every following day.

Warnings: cursing, childhood friends to lovers, friends that kiss, jealousy, started off the fic with a bang cuz i dont believe in small talk, possessiveness

A/N: what happened to hello? what happened to how are you?

----------

Your current predicament was straddling Miles' lap as you both kissed like this would be the last time you ever did. His hands grabbed onto your thighs that encased his legs. Pulling away for a second, you watched as a small string of saliva binds both of your lips.

Looking down at him, you asked out of breath, "We're still just friends, right?" The question caught him off guard. But he responds with a teasing smirk, "Yeah, yeah ma. Just friends." You nervously bit your bottom lip, nodding at his response. Wrapping your hands onto his braids, you smashed your lips against his yet again to ignore your conflicted thoughts.

It's times like this when your past mistake comes back to haunt you. And he made sure you never lived it down. The mistake in question was made on the playground with Miles when you were both ten. Being the young and innocent child you were, you proposed to 'practice kissing' for potential lovers in the future. As all kids do. He accepted and it all sprouted from there. You were each other's first kiss.

That first kiss was only one of many to come. You both had urges, after all. Since your younger days, it turned into something a bit more than just practice. But you never gave it a second thought. Until of late. What used to be a silly playground crush on Miles only grew stronger as the years passed by.

In all honesty, you had no clue where you stood with Miles. What were you, friends that kiss periodically? That was how it was, you suppose. But what you did know was that you'd stay by his side no matter the circumstance. Even if it meant that your friendship would never develop into more. Although occasionally you wished you never initiated to 'practice kissing' with him in your naive and prepubescent years. That would solve your problem at its roots and prevent the rapidly growing feelings you had for him. It was no doubt a mistake in your mind.

Separating your lips for a second time, you pulled away again. He stared at you in confusion. You looked frantic, "Shit, what time is it?" Glancing at the time on your phone, you cursed. It was 3:30 pm. "Fuck, I have a date at four o'clock. I gotta go, Miles." You jumped off of Miles' lap on his bed and swiftly started packing up your things.

Miles felt jealousy start to boil within his stomach as his lap felt empty. He was right here, why would you need to go on a date with some other guy? Furrowing his brows, he irritably questioned, "What do you mean you have a date? With who?" He tried to conceal his annoyance but failed miserably.

"Some guy from my physics class asked me out, sorry but I gotta go." Grabbing your bag, you pecked his cheek lightly as a goodbye. Glancing in his mirror one last time, you tamed any stray strands of hair.

Your response only fueled his jealousy, "Fuck you mean? Do you even know his name?" He started interrogating you.

"Of course I do, it's..." You paused for a second to think, and your conclusion was unclear. Your mind was foggy. "I think it's Javi? Or maybe Jake? Jacob? Shit, I think you kissed the thoughts right out of my brain." You rambled. Your words made him crack a slight smirk, and he said, "Nah, you ain't going on that date ma." pulling you back into his hold by your hips.

"I can't just stand him up, Miles." You told him, starting to regret agreeing on going on the date. "I could take you on a better date than he can, mami." He suggested.

He was full of surprises this afternoon. Usually, he didn't display such possessiveness. You didn't even like the supposed guy you were going on a date with. You just thought he could help you get your mind off of Miles for a few minutes.

Raising an eyebrow, you asked, "Is that an offer?" "It's a promise." He responded without an ounce of hesitation. The way he was staring at you almost made you take him up on it. "Tempting, but I'll have to take a rain check. See you tomorrow. Alright, Miles?" You waved goodbye and walked out his door.

"'Ight, ma. See you." He gave up. As he watched you walk out the door of his room, he groaned in frustration.

The unfortunate recipient of his frustrations was a punching bag in his Uncle Aaron's apartment. Striking the bag with all the force he could muster, the punching bag rumbled on the chain it was strung upon. His knuckles were slowly getting bloodier with each hit, but he couldn't feel it. He could only feel you. It was the only thing he wanted to feel, anyway.

His Uncle inevitably noticed his behavior. Cleaning off one last knife, he set it down and walked towards his nephew. He held the punching bag steady and questioned him, "What's up with you, man?"

Continuing to throw punches at the unsuspecting punching bag, he responded sharply. "It's nothin'. Just my girl going on a date with some other guy." His nostrils flared slightly.

With those two sentences, his Uncle understood his sour mood. "That doesn't sound like nothing. And you just let her? I don't think you're my nephew, man." Shrugging, Miles took a quick water break. Taking a long swig of water, he replied, "You know her, she's stubborn." He had introduced you to his Uncle a while back. His whole family knew you, in fact. Every time he went back home, his mother asked about you. How you are, and when he’s going to tell you how he feels. It seemed everyone knew. Except you.

"Hey. If you want this girl, you gotta show her before someone else does." His Uncle wisely told him. Miles stopped hitting the punching bag and started wrapping his bloodied knuckles in bandages.

Those words stuck with Miles for the rest of the night as he made his way back to his dorm.

Laying on the bed of his dorm, Miles stayed up thinking about what his Uncle told him. His dorm felt empty without you there, he realized.

The next afternoon in his dorm again, you laid on your stomach on his bed, kicking your feet in the air. You frequented his dorm so often that you were more of a roommate to him than his actual one. Glancing at Miles, you noticed the bandages on his knuckles. “Ay, Miles. What happened?” You asked him, taking his hand into yours to inspect it. He disregarded it, "Don’t worry about it.” He continued, addressing the elephant in the room. “How was your date with Javi, Jake, or Jacob?"

You casually respond, "Actually, his name was Jason. And it was fine, I suppose. Although I called him by the wrong name a few times until he corrected me." You mumbled the last part, embarrassed. Not to mention, you almost called him by Miles' name. Not just once but multiple times.

"Just fine, huh?" He replied, intrigued. And slightly satisfied that you didn't have too good of a time.

"Yeah. I mean, he tried kissing me by the end. But his breath reeked of garlic, so I looked the other way and pretended I didn't notice." You said with a grimace, pretending to get flashbacks. In reality, Miles ruined kissing for you. You couldn't stop seeing Miles' face as your date was leaning into you. He wasn't him.

Stifling a laugh, he grinned at you. "So, does that mean you want to take me up on my offer now?" You whipped your head to him in surprise as you said, "You were serious about that? I mean, I'm down." Friends go on dates, don't they? You thought to yourself.

Nodding his head, he said, "I made a promise, ma." He started to stand up, gently grabbing your hand to pull you up with him. Locking your hand onto his arm, he led you out of campus.

Miles brought you to an endearing cafe only a few blocks away from the campus. A diamond in the rough, you thought. As you both sat down across from each other, you felt your nerves spiking.

Truth be told, he still made you nervous at times. Although you've undoubtedly been friends with him for longer than either of you could remember. The both of you ordered food and you started to speak, "So, you take all your girls here, Miles?" Putting on a calm facade, you teased him. You were glad he couldn't see your leg bouncing with anxiousness underneath the table.

He let out a slight puff at you, "What girls? Solo eres tú, mami. You know that." Your heart fluttered slightly at his words. Widening your eyes, you murmured, "I didn't know that, actually." You cleared your throat and enunciated, "How'd you find out about this place then?" Your voice piqued with interest. You didn't believe he would frequent this cute cafe in his spare time. It wasn't exactly his scene, so to say.

"This is where my dad took my ma on their first date." He said with an unusually soft tone, staring into your eyes for your reaction. You would never guess it, but he saw a future with you. Ever since that day on the playground, he knew it was real. His affection for you never dimmed since then.

As you both locked eyes, you realized then that he took you to a place that was sentimental to him and his family. This cafe was where his parent’s story first started. All of a sudden, this date felt a bit more serious than he had originally let on.

Under his stare, you felt your face go warm, "That's beautiful, Miles." After a few moments, you continued, "I suddenly feel like I'm intruding, though." His response came quick, "Never, mami. What makes you say that?" You confessed the thoughts that swarmed your brain right when you walked into the cafe, "I mean, this place feels a bit intimate for people that are 'just friends'" You said with air quotations.

"I think we're past that stage. Don't you, princesa?" You nodded at him. He was right, you thought. After all, friends don't usually have an oral fixation for their friend's mouth.

Your orders came at the same time. You both comfortably conversed. It was a nice change of pace after your date from yesterday. After you both ate your orders and paid, Miles and you walked down the street with his fingers settling on your waist. You spoke up, "Thanks for bringing me here today, Miles. I had a good time with you." You wanted nothing more than to reach up and kiss him til he couldn't breathe, but resisted.

"Anytime. If it meant you'd stop going on dates with other guys." He said casually, but his grip firmed on your waist. Your head turned to him at his words. After your date with Miles, you were sure he ruined dates for you as well. Just like he ruined your ability to kiss anyone else. "Yeah, I'm not even sure I'll want to go on a date with anyone else after this." You said under your breath. He silently grinned.

As you both made your way back to Miles' dorm, the urge to kiss him only became stronger. You could tell he felt it, too. You noticed how he walked a bit faster to go back to his dorm.

Once the door to his room opened, you gave in to your desires and pulled him in by his hoodie to connect your lips. He backed you against his door as his hands traveled all over your body like it was a new territory he was unfamiliar with. He couldn't get enough of you. Groaning into your mouth, he deepened the kiss impossibly more. You both parted for a moment to get a quick breath of air.

Staring into his eyes, you told him before you lost the courage, "I don't want to be just friends. Friends that kiss sometimes when they feel like it." He looked at you like you just told him he won the lottery. In his eyes, this scenario was better than winning the lottery. He grinned as he kissed you again. Full of heat, his kiss spoke louder than words. "Then why don't we be lovers that kiss?” He pulled away to whisper against your lips. “Yeah, I think I like that idea.” You smiled against his lips.

That kiss from yesterday would be the last kiss you shared. As friends, that is. And this would be your first kiss as lovers. From the very first chapter of your life, he was there. And to the present-day chapter of your life, he's still here with you. In the end, It'll always be him and you.

------------

solo eres tú - it’s only you

princess - princess

6K notes View Post

ijustwannareblogstuff

3 years ago

haven’t read it yet but I’ll be back!

as it will be - rafe cameron

You can find my other work here!

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Soulmate! Reader

Warnings: tattoos, slight suggestive content, just overall fluff (let me know if you find something else)

Word count: 3.1K

Synopsis: You’ve had a tattoo on your wrist since you could remember, one that is supposed to match your soulmates’. With an ever evolving tattoo, you question the validity of such a system. That is until you meet Rafe. You meet Rafe Cameron in the library and he suggests you both glimpse at your possible futures together.

a/n: this was inspired by the story The Way We Love Here by Dhonielle Clayton in the book Meet Cute: Some People are Destined to Meet, and this is love by baby-bearie!

—

Finals week always feels particularly stressful, especially to you as you walk into the library. Just locating a table causes you to overthink, which random person will hate you the least if you sit next to them? With lots of thought you finally select a table already occupied by a golden haired boy. As you scoot out the chair diagonal from the boy you make eye contact. You subconsciously trace the set of lines on your wrist, your cheeks heating up at the soft grin he sends you. Something about him already feels so familiar, as if you have known each other for longer than three seconds.

“Hey,” he whispers across the table to you as you take a seat. Your eyes find his brilliant blue ones before his eyes drift to your wrist, “nice tattoo.”

You glance down at your wrist before replying in a hushed voice, “thanks… I mean, it’s all natural.” You tease, a smile slipping onto your lips. You’re normally much more reserved with strangers but something about this boy makes you speak as though you’re friends.

He chuckles, tugging down the arm of his sweatshirt. He holds up his left wrist, the same side as yours, which displays the same tattoo as you. “I know what you mean,” he shares, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Your eyes trace the abstract pattern, a mess of lines that progress over your lifetimes. A flutter of something erupts in your chest, this boy could be your soulmate. You’ve dreamed of who they would be since the very idea was introduced to you in school. “Wow,” you exhale, “I’ve never met someone with the same pattern as me before.”

He nods his head in agreement, “Well in that case, nice to meet you, I’m Rafe Cameron.”

You smile, “And I’m Y/n L/n.”

“Y/n,” Rafe repeats, “It appears this is the start of something new."

It is now your turn to nod your head, feeling a sense of urgency suddenly. You dig through your backpack, pulling out what you originally came to the library to do, "I hope so, but as of right now it needs to wait. I can’t afford to fail any classes."

He chuckles, glancing over the multitude of books you pull out of your bag. "I can see that,” he plays, dropping his head back to his own book. You don’t catch the way his cheeks light up pink.

Blushing, you whine, “Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be nice to me?"

He shakes his head, looking up through the hair that has flopped over his forehead.

You lean forward on your elbows, wanting to run your fingers through his hair. Your gut flips when he sends you an impossibly charming grin, "You know I’m just messing with you. What about we take a break in an hour, I’ll leave you alone till then."

You nod your head, excitement bubbling through you, "Sounds good!"

—

It is exactly 59 minutes later when your train of thought is interrupted, a excited tone to Rafe’s otherwise quiet voice "Have you ever looked at someone and thought about your possible futures?"

You blink a few times, lifting your gaze to the boy in front of you. You know exactly what Rafe means once you process his question. There has long been a fairytale that touching matching tattoos together reveals your possibilities with the other person.

You think back to the obsession of your childhood, finding all of the fables of soulmates. Your parents only found their tattoos to not match when you showed up, flushed cheeks and a head of hair, weighing 6 pounds 4 ounces. "I guess when I was a kid,” you answer, leaving the sob story out of the conversation. If this boy really is your soulmate he’ll be around long enough to hear it.

Rafe seems more bouncy than an hour ago, his left hand twirling around an orange highlighter in the air. The boy seems to radiate energy, shifting forward in his chair, “What happened to that spirit?"

You hesitate before rambling out, "You know, life happens. I got older and read more and more about soulmates who didn’t work out or about people born without tattoos. It made me question who or what decides these marks and how much they define everyone’s lives. What makes us more worthy of love than anyone else?"

Rafe pauses, sucking in a sharp breath, he had never thought of life in such a way. "Maybe different people have different life plans, people who aren’t interested in romantic relationships exist. I don’t think anyone is more worthy of love, just different love."

"I can’t help but feel that it’s just too imperfect for it to be true, you know?” You glance down at your book, rereading the same sentence you had been stuck on earlier. Your literature class somehow managed to mirror real life.

Rafe’s wrist adorned with the tattoo plops into your vision, “What would you say if I proposed a deep dive into the inner-workings of soulmates?"

You lift your gaze, eyes landing on the suddenly still Rafe. His eyes shine with what you can only assume is hope. "What if it doesn’t work?"

"What if it does? There is only one way to know.” His eyebrows knit together, “What is there to lose?"

You sigh, placing your own patterned wrist atop his, squeezing your eyes shut. Nothing seems to happen, you are highly aware of the warmth of Rafe’s hand latching onto your wrist. His cool ring contrasts the warmth of his fingers, pulling you back into the reality of the situation.

You peek your eyes open, catching the lazy grin on Rafe’s lips, his eyes closed. You open your mouth to call him back, realizing the library is where you’ve stayed, only to close it when your surroundings blur.

Your stomach churns, you’re easily phased by motion, cars, boats, and planes, making your palms sweat. You squeeze your eyes shut again, giving in to the swirling motion you both seem to be traveling in.

—

You seem to wake up, reality, or whatever this is, hitting you. You sit on your surfboard, the one you left in California with your grandparents. The familiar scent of the ocean washes over you, the feeling of home rapidly trails behind.

You kick your feet under the board, looking down at the white wetsuit you don’t recognize. If you had ended up here any other way you would have enjoyed the moment, instead you can’t help but question why.

Where is the boy who had this idea in the first place? You glance around as much as you can, observing your fellow surfers. As you paddle, turning back towards the beach a tug pulls in your stomach. You paddle towards the beach where you feel you need to be.

Your eyes are finally met with the now familiar face when your feet touch the sand. Standing on one of your favorite California beaches, Rafe toys with a film camera around his neck.

"I was looking for you,” he greets you, stepping towards the waves.

You tuck the board under your arm, jogging up to Rafe, “Me too.” You meet where waves barely brush your ankles, smooth sand between your toes.

Rafe glances you up and down. Something you would normally detest. And yet you don’t feel the need to hit him. Something about the way Rafe is holding your phone makes you suspect you’re there together.

“You know how to surf? That’s so cool,” Rafe steps forward, his shoulder brushing your board. His eyes meet yours, a blush spreads across your cheeks as you toy with a loop on your wetsuit.

“My grandparents taught me when I lived with them in middle school,” you respond then look around, “This feels like home, does it to you too?"

"I didn’t want to make it weird but yeah, I’ve always liked California but I have never felt like this.” He thinks for a minute, glancing down at his left hand.

No ring sits on his ring finger, something which makes you question what you want. Why did an air of disappointment bubble up in your chest? “We live here,” You share as the realization dawns on you, “And I’ve been waiting for you to propose for a while now."

Rafe pauses, gaze shifting slightly above you. As his eyes land back on you he tucks the items in his hands into his pockets, coming up with a box instead. "That’s what I was going to do today, I just have bad timing apparently."

You giggle, "If I wasn’t wet and you didn’t have a camera I would hug you right now."

"Wet?” Rafe teases in a tone you know you’ll come to love, a smirk playing across his lips.

Once again you are left to wonder the power this boy already holds over you. If he were any other boy that comment would have earned him a scowl. Instead, you lightly smack his forearm and quip, “way to ruin the moment."

Rafe slings the camera around to his back. You watch his eyes crinkle as he grins at you, stepping closer as the world begins to spin once again. His arms wrap around your waist, your arms slipping around his upper shoulders. "Bye,” he whispers in your ear. You smile, closing your eyes and enjoying the sensation of time slipping by.

—

When you open your eyes this time you aren’t feeling as comfortable. Instead of the warmth of the beach, you are met with snow, large chunks falling down before you. You peer out the window, taking in the expanse of white contrasted by a mountain range you don’t recognize.

Twirling around, you nearly trip over the heavy amount of clothes you are wearing, a long white dress. Today must be your wedding day.

The door behind you creaks open, someone enters with a limp. The step followed by a heavier one keys you in to who exactly is here.

“Papa,” you greet, turning towards the door, smiling at the man who raised you.

He grins at you, taking in the expanse of your dress, “Are you ready?” He questions, “I’m sure you’ve been anxious out of your mind today, ready to take the final step and become Mrs. Woods?"

You inhale sharply, "Woods?” Rafe’s last name isn’t Woods, where is the boy who you have quickly become attached to in these timelines?

Your grandpa looks at you, forehead wrinkling as he raises his eyebrows, “What’s wrong?”

You only realize your hand is squeezing your wrist when you look down, freeing it to take a look at the pattern. The mess of lines you had in the library looks starkly different now, a progression of time. You return your eyes to your grandpa, dwelling on the slight sense of comfort he provides, “What about Rafe?"

"Rafe? You know what happened better than I do, soulmates sometimes don’t work out I guess.” Papa smiles a remorseful smile, his gaze shifting to the snowy landscape.

You follow his gaze, eyes darting across the cold. If you still feel love for him why didn’t you work out? Why is one of your possible futures a failed romance?

“I’m ready,” you state, wanting to see who you are set to marry. How does this man compare to Rafe?

Taking your left hand in some sort of formal gesture, Papa guides you to the door he came in. You grab the last bouquet by the door when two helpers open the doors. In front of you is a giant, traditional wedding. You never wanted to have an indoor wedding, your love for nature prevented it.

You both walk down the aisle at an agonizingly slow rate, giving you time to look at each of the guests. Most of your family members take up the right side of the chapel. On the left, plenty of faces who appear to recognize you. Once you reach the stairs up to the wedding party Papa squeezes your hand then drops it, taking his seat in the front.

Anticipation pulls your gaze up as you take the final few steps. First to the man you are set to marry, the name Seth comes to your mind, then to your bridesmaids. Your best friend steps forward, taking the bouquet from your hand and giving you a smile. As you stop across from your groom, your eyes land on his groomsmen. There, standing in a tux, is Rafe who sends you a sad smile when your eyes finally find him.

You stumble, tripping over your dress slightly, Seth’s left hand shoots out to catch you. His sleeve rides up, revealing a tattoo vastly different from yours. You know deep down that this timeline doesn’t work out, how could you go and say yes to a proposal if you felt hope for you and Rafe? The simple answer is you couldn’t.

As Seth takes both your hands in his own, the world slowly begins to tumble. Wanting this timeline to be over as soon as possible, you squeeze your eyes shut. You wait patiently for the next world, hopefully happier this time.

—

When your senses come back to you, you realize you’re laying on a bed somewhere familiar. A warm weight on your chest and a calm sense of life. You quickly realize who the weight belongs to, Rafe, as you thread your fingers through his hair. You breathe in a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to stay here forever.

Rafe seems to take a little longer waking up but when he does, you jump. His head picks up quickly, landing on you before both of his arms wrap around your waist, “Oh thank the gods,” he remarks. His head lands right in the middle of your chest as you giggle, arms wrapping around him also.

You grin, butterflies dancing in your stomach. You quickly forget how the last timeline felt, taking in the love in this one. In the pit of your stomach guilt sits, you caused the timeline where it didn’t work out. “Rafe?” You question with an uneasy tone prompting his head to pick back up.

He hums, urging you to go on. Eyebrows pulled together, his thumb traces the skin of your waist. You feel some comfort over the way he traces a circle in your skin, warm hands on you.

“I’m sorry for marrying someone else, I don’t even understand what happened."

Rafe smiles softly, "Did you still love me? Cause I still loved you, a lot actually."

You nod your head, smiling. "I just wish we knew what went wrong, you know, I don’t want that to be our timeline.”

"Good,” he then adds, “And I don’t think it will. As long as we love each other I think any situation can be resolved with enough work. I think people rely too much on being soulmates when all relationships require work.” Rafe shifts, sitting back onto his lower legs. You shiver at the loss of contact, already craving the warmth and comfort of Rafe’s touch.

You frown at him, crossing your arms to retain some heat, “It’s cold now.” The cold metal feeling of a ring pauses your thoughts as you look at your left hand. Wedding bands sit on your ring finger, matching the one on Rafe’s left hand. You hold up your hand towards him, “We’re married!"

Rafe’s eyes trace your rings, smiling, he glances to his own hand, "I wouldn’t expect anything less."

You blush, sitting up some on the couch. Life like this feels sweet to you.

He chuckles, picking up your legs at the end of the couch. Rafe takes a seat then pats his lap, "I wanna see you."

You blush once again under his gaze. Sitting on his lap you feel the need to fill the silence. As his thumb traces circles on your waist again, you whisper, "Hi."

"Hey,” he whispers back, much like his first greeting to you in the library. His eyes leave yours, bouncing to your lips then back, “Can I have a kiss?”

Your stomach flutters at the gentle question, leaning forward as you hum in confirmation. Your lips meet in a soft kiss that quickly sucks you in. Melting at Rafe’s hand which guides your chin slightly higher before cupping your cheek.

Your hands tangle in Rafe’s hair, pulling slightly on the golden strands. You enjoy the moment and the warmth of his hands pulling you closer. As you pull back slightly to breathe, noses on each other, the world begins to spin again.

Rafe pulls you closer and whispers, “This is my favorite one yet."

"Me too,” you agree, pecking his lips before you are both transported somewhere else.

—

This time you recognize your surroundings, the library. Your wrists are still touching, it appears not even a minute has passed. You look up at Rafe, grinning when you find his eyes already on you.

“So,” he whispers, leaning in, “would you say that was a good idea?"

You look down at your wrists, flipping your hand over to find a new detail. After months of tracing the same pattern over and over you are quick to notice the detail. You scan Rafe’s wrist, finding the same wavy line. "Look,” you trace the new line on his wrist, “Both our patterns have expanded in the same way."

He shivers at your cold finger, making you smile knowingly at him. His eyes trace the new line on both of your wrists, "We’ve already gained something.” His right hand comes over and squeezes yours in a comforting way.

You nod your head, realizing the time. The setting sun behind the mountains lights up the library in orange and pink colors. You much prefer this scene out the windows to the snowy one. Turning your attention back to the boy in front of you, you suggest, “why don’t we go get dinner, you can continue to establish what a good idea this was then?”

Rafe nods his head in excitement, pulling his hands away to pack up all of his stuff. You do the same, standing and pulling your backpack on, you wait for him. Once he finishes, he takes your hand and you both walk out into the warmth of the setting sun. Not knowing which timeline you will end up in but both confident it will work out.

—

likes, comments, and reblogs always make my day, thank you for reading!