Spiderverse: A Miles Morales AU

Miles rushed down to the basketball court, his heart pounding with excitement and nerves. He spotted the coach on the sidelines,  observing a training game in full swing. As he approached, he could see the players moving fluidly, executing plays and making shots, which only heightened his anticipation.

"Hey, Coach!" Miles called out, waving to get his attention. The coach turned and looked at him, a curious expression on his face.

"What's up?" the coach replied, wiping sweat from his brow.

"I want to join the team," Miles said, trying to sound confident despite the fluttering in his stomach.

"What's your name?" asked the coach.

"My name is Miles Morales" he said

"Have you played basketball before?" the coach asked, sizing him up.

"Yeah, I was part of a basketball team at my old school," Miles explained. "I'm new here, so I decided to join the team."

"Okay, let's see what you can do," the coach said, nodding. He called out to the players on the court. "Time out! We're making a substitution!"

Everyone this is Miles, he introduced… he will be trying out today, let's see him play

Miles felt a rush of adrenaline as the coach signaled for him to step in. "Let's see how you handle forward," the coach instructed, gesturing for him to take a position.

Dropping his bag hastily on the ground, Miles took a deep breath. He hadn't expected to jump right into a game today, and nerves coursed through him. He stepped onto the court, his heart racing as he scanned the other players. He didn't yet realize he would be going up against Harry Osborn, the star of the team.

As the game resumed, Miles felt shaky, trying to find his footing. The ball was passed around, and he quickly got involved, but his nerves began to show. He fumbled a few passes, losing control of the ball more than he would have liked. Each time he messed up, he felt a pang of embarrassment wash over him.

"Come on, Miles!" he muttered to himself, trying to shake off the anxiety. "Just focus!"

He tried to keep up with the fast-paced game, but every time the ball came near him, he felt the pressure mounting. He missed a couple of crucial shots, his hands feeling slick with sweat. He could hear the laughter and chatter of the other players, which only amplified his nerves.

Harry Osborn, on the opposing team, was quick and agile, effortlessly maneuvering around Miles. Each time Harry stole the ball or made a quick layup, it made Miles' stomach drop. "Why is this so hard?" he thought, frustration creeping in.

Despite his jitters, he reminded himself why he wanted to join the team. "Just breathe and play," he told himself. But as the game continued, he struggled to find his rhythm, feeling out of place amidst the flow of the game.

With every mistake, he fought the urge to retreat, knowing this was his chance to prove himself. "You can do this, Miles," he whispered under his breath, determined to shake off the nerves and find a way to contribute, even if it meant learning from his mistakes in real time.

"Time out!" the coach called again, his voice cutting through the noise of the court. Miles' team was losing badly, and he felt the heat of embarrassment wash over him as he took a seat on the bench.

"Are you sure you've played before?" the coach asked, looking at him with a mix of frustration and concern. "What the hell are you doing out there?"

Miles felt small under the coach's gaze, his heart sinking even further. "I—I'm sorry," he stammered, his cheeks burning with shame. He could sense the disappointment in the air. But then, the coach paused, his expression softening slightly.

 "I'm going to give you one more chance." He said

As the game resumed, Miles took a deep breath, steeling himself for a fresh start. This time, he was determined to let go of his fear and clear his mind, trusting his instincts. "Just play your game," he whispered to himself.

When the ball was passed to him, he caught it cleanly and began to dribble. The rhythm felt familiar, almost comforting. He glanced up, assessing the court ahead of him. Two defenders approached, but instead of freezing up, he felt a surge of confidence.

With a swift move, he dribbled to his right, then quickly shifted left to evade the first player. The defender stumbled, and Miles seized the moment. He accelerated toward the basket, the second defender closing in on him.

In one smooth motion, he dribbled behind his back, leaving the defender off-balance. With a powerful leap, he soared toward the hoop, feeling weightless for an instant. Everyone around him faded away, and in that moment, it was just him and the net.

With an effortless dunk, he sent the ball crashing through the hoop.  The swish echoed through the gym, and for a brief moment, time stood still. As he landed, the adrenaline coursed through his veins, and a wide grin spread across his face.

The cheers from his teammates surrounded him, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him. "I did it!" he thought, exhilarated. In that moment, he knew he was exactly where he needed to be. The fear that had gripped him earlier faded, replaced by the thrill of the game and the realization that he could truly belong.

The game continued, and Miles was on fire. With every play, he moved with confidence and skill, surprising not only the coach but also everyone watching. He effortlessly executed his position, making crucial defensive plays and scoring baskets that had the crowd erupting in cheers. The gym was alive with energy, and for the first time, Miles felt like he truly belonged.

But not everyone was happy. Across the court, Harry Osborn seethed with anger. He watched Miles shine, feeling his status as the best player threatened. The jealousy boiled inside him, and he decided to take matters into his own hands.

The ball was passed to Miles, Harry charged at him, a dark determination in his eyes. With a foul tackle, he knocked Miles to the ground. As Miles hit the floor, shock coursed through him. He looked up to see Harry standing over him, a smug, hate-filled smile on his face. Confusion washed over Miles—not just from the tackle, but from the look in Harry's eyes.

The coach's whistle pierced the air, pausing the game. "What was that?" he shouted, looking furious.

"Relax, Coach. It's a normal tackle, and besides, he's fine," Harry said dismissively, a smirk still plastered on his face.

"One more time and you're out," the coach warned, his voice low and serious. Miles could feel the tension thickening in the air; he knew Harry would come for him again.

As the game resumed, Miles steeled himself, determined not to let Harry intimidate him. The ball was passed to him once more, and as he received it, he sensed Harry closing in, ready to strike again. This time, Miles was ready.

With a quick, calculated move, he dribbled past Harry, making it seem effortless. Harry lunged at him, but Miles executed a feint, causing Harry to stumble and fall hard onto the ground. Without even laying a finger on him, Miles had outmaneuvered his opponent.

In one fluid motion, Miles took the shot from the same position. The ball sailed through the air and swished through the net with a satisfying sound. The gym erupted in cheers, his teammates chanting his name, "Miles! Miles!"

The coach blew the whistle to end the game

Meanwhile, Harry lay on the ground, seething with anger and humiliation. He couldn't believe that the new kid had not only taken the spotlight but had also made him look foolish. As Miles basked in the glory of his moment, he felt a rush of triumph. He knew he had stepped into his own, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead both on the court and off.

Harry wasn't letting this go, his friends try to raise him up but he furiously shouted leave me alone, he got upon his own. Took a long stare at Miles, "who is he?" He asked, one of his friend named Dray answered "he's the new kid in school" I guess it's time to show the new king who's the King in this school… he said with a wide grin on his face.

"Miles, get over here!", the coach called for him. Miles left his team mate around him who were getting to know him and went straight to the coach. "That was impressive I must say, welcome to the Team… Wednesdays and Fridays are training days, time is 1pm don't be late, I repeat don't be late".

"Thanks Coach I won't be late, I promise…" Miles said feeling excited. "Thanks for the opportunity coach."

Miles was feeling enthusiastic and in a hurry to share this news to Jason but he remembered he hadn't seen Jason in school all through today. "Where could he be" he said to himself. I think i should call him. He reached out for his phone as he dialed Jason's number.