#42 miles morales x reader
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lady-ashfade · 2 years ago
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Jacket obsession
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Spider-Verse: You leave a piece of clothing behind with a yandere.
Characters: Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, 42!Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Miguel O'Hara
Warnings: Obsession, stealing, yandere tendencies, just them going lovely over a piece of clothing.
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Miles Morales:
Oh poor boy at first freaked out trying to get your attention before you enter the portal without your jacket.
“Wait! You’ll get colded.” He shouted as you entered the portal not hearing him.
After a few seconds after with worry in his chest he looked down at the clothing in hand and realized what he had. A piece of you that he could hold while he was away from you, and he hated being away from you, but the boys heart filled up with happiness.
The clothing smell just like you and if he threw it over a pillow it would be like cuddling with you. Boy is over the moon. And I mean like so giddy it’s embarrassingly cute.
He takes it every where with him, to the kitchen it’s in his hands, watching or playing games? It’s in his lap. He smells it constantly and gets really sad after a week when it doesn’t smell like you anymore.
However when you come back to his dimension and request for your jacket his heart breaks. Boy pouts security at the lose but he sees this as a way to get it to smell like you again and steal it after a while.
Overall if you leave anything he will take it and treasure it until you come back because now he has you for the time being.
He’s more of a clingy yandere but he still can’t help but obsessive over his darling.
“Maybe i could give you one of mine- Incase you lose yours again that is.”
Hobie Brown
Cocky little man notices it before you even want to leave and he knows you’ll forget it so he just lets you.
He loves when you leave things behind, thinks it might be a way of flirting. But when you do leave clothing he just feral about it.
Like he just can’t stop smelling it and just wants to hold it all day. He thinks of how cute you look in or how you smile and everything you do just flashes in his head.
Man is devilish to me. So he has a collection of things he steals from your bedroom when you’re out and he sneaks into your dimension. Clothes, shoes, necklaces or anything he can find.
You come back to him for it but he just holds it in his hands, above you and around the room when you try and take it way. “You mean this jacket?” Boy will have so much fun making you annoyed.
Hobie will leave his jacket on your room in hopes you’d wear it and think of him like he does you. He gets a grin when he thinks about it.
“If yah’ wanted to give me your jacket all yah’ had to do was say so.”
Gwen Stacy
You think she’s just chilling? Um no, she isn’t.
She loves you so much, her whole thing is like “I’ve lost to much.” And if she’s a yandere she can’t stop loving everything you do-Anyway.
She wears it and it can be oversized or maybe tight? She doesn’t care. She doesn’t take it off her body until it stops smelling like you or until she needs to get in her suit.
Gwen is maybe fighting with her self for many different reasons and they are:
“This is creepy.” “Oh cares? They smell so good.”
“They did this on purpose, so cute.” “No they just forgot it Gwen.”
Conflict with her own feelings all the time. But she never stops holding it close.
Gwen likes the idea of wearing your clothes to make it know she’s taken and that you’re hers. Can’t stop thinking of when you get to wear her clothes.
Yes, you guys aren’t “Dating” But your all hers.
“Don’t worry, I kept it so safe. By the way, could I borrow it again?”
Miguel O'Hara
Doesn’t care-Joking.
Miguel wouldn’t think about it at first and knows you just forget it and will come back for it later. But as time goes by, a hour, he can’t stopped looking at it for some reason.
He sneaks over like someone is watching him and picks it up. His mouth waters at the smell of you and he wouldn’t be able to let it go.
It might have rinkles on it from him carrying it so much. It’s his stress ball. You guys ever seen a kid carry around a blanket? Well that’s him.
He does feel wrong for obsessing over the piece of cloth but for different reasons then Gwen. He thinks he’s above something like this, doesn’t think it’s a big deal and he should forget it.
But when it puts it down a few seconds, it’s immediately in his hand again.
Yes, he does put it on a pillow and holds it close like he’s protecting you. He’s practically for when you get to be in his arms.
When you asked for it back he stands still for a minute. He feels sad and hates it because it’s just so stupid! Of course he gives you it back.
“I could give you one of mine…Only because that one doesn’t seem like it keeps you warm.”
42!Miles Morales
He’s a lot like Miguel in this situation a bit. And even if I see him as a big, big hard yandere he doesn’t think this is to big of a deal. Now don’t get me wrong he loves it, he just isn’t crazy as the rest of them.
Though, he does like to have it near him when he sleeps like have you close to him, or smell it whenever he can. Of course he has it in his lap when he’s gaming but the jacket never leaves his room.
Will buy the same one as you so you two can match and he can give you his. He thinks about you wearing something of his, like goes crazy just thinking of it.
You ask for it back? That’s cool, just try and get it from him. He loves to tease you to the ends of the earth and he would give it to you when you ask. But you’re just so cute when you get annoyed.
“If you wanted a jacket mami you could have asked for mine. Think mine would look cuter on you away.”
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primaviva · 1 year ago
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HUGS N’ KISSES
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PAIRING: miles g. morales x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend, miles, invites you over to his place since his moms not home and he can finally have the door shut. but one teasing comment you made later and suddenly he’s asleep in your arms as you smother him in tender kisses. is he really tho?
WARNINGS/NOTES: pure fluff, one suggestive joke? heavily coded latina reader w implied curly hair, miles being petty, that’s all !!
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“translations:” ¿qué onda? = whats up, novio = boyfriend, relájate = relax, chuleto = used to refer to a fashionable/flirty boy or fboy, tonto = idiot, lo siento = i’m sorry, princesa = princess
after an exhausting heatwave, new york had been graced with a week of downpours and cool streets.
you hadn't recently seen your boyfriend. yes, you spoke to him in your classes and in the hallways when you saw him at school, but it had been some time since you had last seen him outside of the school building. he frequently claimed to be busy with whatever the hell it was. but you decided against pushing it. miles is loyal to you and has been through a lot, so you don't push him to tell you when he's busy or doing something else to fill the time. instead, you wait for him to open up.
currently, you found yourself comfortably sprawled on the couch in the living room. the morning's heavy downpour had gradually subsided as the afternoon arrived, leaving behind a gentle drizzle that cascaded down the windowpane. without any particular program capturing your attention, this day seemed to be a slow one you just had to follow the vibe of. as you idly absorbed the atmosphere, your eyes wandered to the television, where a journalist was discussing the prowler's recent involvement in a local drug bust.
exhaling a sigh, you contemplated switching off the tv and surrendering to another nap, when suddenly, a notification chimed on your phone. your gaze shifted to the coffee table, where the glow of your phone illuminated the surroundings.
it was a message from your man, miles.
mi novio : ¿qué onda, mami? i miss you 😩😩
you couldn't help but roll your eyes at your phone as you silently read the text. miles had a penchant for playfully teasing and maintaining a smooth facade, all in an attempt to fluster you.
you : relájate… we texted this morning and it was you who stopped replying
you : but ig i missed you too
you could almost picture the expression on his face at that moment. maybe a subtle smirk adorned his lips in response to your sassy reply or the mention of missing him. or maybe he even did a small pout, feeling defeated that you didn’t completely fold.
mi novio : ik you missed me
mi novio : you tryna come over?
as soon as you finished reading the last line of his message, a loud laugh escaped from your lips. once again, he was acting cocky. your mouth stretched into a soft smirk as you realized you couldn't pretend that you didn't like the way he acted. it didn’t help how bold he was asking for you to come over. now that’s when you knew something was up.
the supple fabric made contact with your skin as you took up your phone and sat back against the cushions, instantly soothing your muscles as you typed up a response.
me : come over and do what lil boy…
with a laugh, you rose from the couch and strolled toward your bedroom, mentally getting ready. it was a familiar routine, the satisfying dance of teasing and banter that defined your dynamic. deep down, you knew you would end up there regardless, but relishing in the opportunity to playfully toy with him was irresistible.
you put your phone down on your bed as you opened your closet and began to put an outfit together. you felt your phone ding as you jumped into your jeans and pressed the buttons together. picking your phone up, you glanced at the text message that flashed across the screen.
mi novio : girl you know not the start with me
mi novio : and don’t act like i’m on some freaking timing when you texted the prowler to stop by your window the other night, ma
a gasp escaped your lips, and your hand instinctively flew to cover your mouth, overwhelmed by the sudden nervousness that surged through your body. your cheeks were so warm from the sudden boldness of his comments you swore you could feel the steam radiation off of them. you were well aware of his nature, but this time, he had truly caught you off guard with his little comeback.
your head quipped at the sudden notification that dinged your phone again.
mi novio : what’s wrong, you stopped typing? don’t get all shy on me now when you started it
mi novio : just come over and we’ll figure it out damn i jus wanna see you
despite your nervous state you couldn't help but smile warmly at what she said. miles isn’t always vulnerable but you loved the little crumbs you got when he spoke his mind. you could tell he really missed by just how much he was double texting, something he only does when he talks to you.
you : i'm comingg you can stop now 🫶
as you coated your hands with the product, carefully working it into a rich lather, a playful image of him rolling his eyes in response to your text crossed your mind. undeterred, you tenderly scrunched and massaged the product into your luscious locs. casting a final approving glance at your reflection in the mirror, you made sure your fit was good. with your headphones and house keys in hand, you slid into a jacket, being mindful of the weather. swiftly, you shot miles a text, letting him know you’d be there soon.
you took a deep breath as you stepped out of your house, the familiar door closing behind you with a soft click. the gray sky’s gentle glow kissed your skin, casting a dark hue upon your face. the sound of your footsteps created a comforting cadence as you strolled through the gloomy neighborhood. with each step you glanced at the dark shadows that had overtaken brooklyn throughout time.
within a short time, you found yourself on his block, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your phone and let him know you were about to pull up. as you turned the corner, his apartment building came into view, and there he stood, positioned at the entrance, patiently awaiting your arrival. clad in an oversized black puffer jacket, he exuded a sense of warmth, his hands tucked protectively into the pockets for an extra layer of comfort in the outside weather. drawing nearer, his face gradually came into focus, revealing the cool, icy gaze that harmonized with his stoic demeanor. yet, behind the stoicism, a gentle smile graced his lips, radiating a tenderness that could not be concealed around you.
he let out a sigh as a cloudy mist escaped his soft lips. “hey baby,” miles whispered, his voice raspy almost as if he’s a bit tired as he moves closer and wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you close.
“hola chuleto,” you replied back, enamored by how gorgeous he looked in pale sunlight. you put your hand on his cheek and felt his supple skin beneath your fingertips. “so, can i get a kiss from my boyfriend now?”
before he responded, you prepared to start leaning up to kiss him but miles had playfully straightened his back and added to the distance between you two. you looked up shooting him an annoyed glare as a smirk painted his featuress.
“ah, mami. y’know i can’t resist you,” miles mumbled against your ear as he leaned back close to you and let out a small laugh.
he leans down and kisses you, both of his hands resting softly on your hips. he let out a satisfied hum as his lips met the warmth of your mouth. the feeling was something of ecstasy. he had missed you so much all he wanted to do was just be near you. his hand moves down to your lower back, pressing you against him. miles pulled back with a hum as he looked down at you with soft eyes as you gazed up at him through your wispy lashes. he pulled you into a hug as you both slowly rocked back and forth in each other's embrace.
as the chilly mist continued to linger in the air, miles gently pulled away from your embrace, his concern evident in his eyes. "hey, we should probably go inside the apartment building before we catch a cold," he suggested, his voice carrying a note of practicality. his words were accompanied by a warm smile, a gesture that conveyed both consideration and a desire to keep you safe.
nodding in agreement, you intertwined your fingers with his as a silent affirmation. miles opened the door to the lobby and guided you to the staircase as you began your descent up to his floor.
your kisses always had a way of melting his demeanor away into something much gentler, if your friends ever saw him this way they would barely recognize him.
as you reached the landing, miles fumbled for his keys, his hand briefly brushing against yours, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine. the door swung open, revealing the dimly lit and mostly empty apartment.
“you hungry? cus’ i cooked if you want anything,” he mentioned from behind you as he locked the door.
"cooked too, huh? and here you are always tryna act all hard," you giggled. "no, i’m good but thank you"
it always was amusing to you how miles acted so differently than how he actually felt but at the same time it gave you butterflies that he had made something with you in mind. he really did have a soft spot for you.
miles shot you an annoyed glare at your words. he never liked being called out, did he?
“i’m not hard or whatever,” he mumbled as he reached behind you, his large hands going around your waist to pull you close behind him before removing your jacket and putting it on the coat rack.
miles turned, catching sight of the amused expression on your face. his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, prompting him to take a step closer, deliberately lowering himself to meet your eye level.
“yeah, i cook,” miles stated, licking his lips. “so i don’t know why you’re giggling at me. a man can’t show off his skills once in a while?”
before you could let out another laugh, miles had grabbed you by the hand and dragged you into his room.
“c’mon, let’s relax and watch a movie or somethin,’” he suggested as you both made your way inside and kicked your shoes off.
miles settled onto his bed, reaching for his laptop and powering it on. as the soft, ethereal glow of the screen bathed his face in a light blue hue, he started looking for fall movies.
"and what movie might that be?" you asked, your expression tinged with curiosity and skepticism.
"i wanna watch a scary movie, but you're too scared so i'm letting you choose. just no more romcom nonsense." miles pleads as he pats the space beside him.
"whatchu mean romcom nonsense?" you repeated in a mockingly hurt tone. "i don't wanna hear that from somebody that said jason x was heat…”
"oh? so we gon bring that into this,” miles groans as he lays back onto the couch, pulling you down gently so you're laying on top of him.
you looked up at him with yet another raised brow as a small pout formed onto his playful lips. "jason x was heat, you're jus’ too much of a hater.”
“yeah i am a hater, but because i love you imma refrain from clowning you for that false statement,” you playfully teased, feeling miles grab your shoulder and lean back, creating a comfortable space for you to rest against his chest. he smirked, and you could tell he was enjoying the banter.
miles sighs, "alright alright, i guess jason x wasn't the greatest...”
he shifted slightly, propping himself up to lean over your body, his gaze fixed on you with gentle intent. with a tender touch, he reached for the blanket, enveloping both of you in its warmth as he carefully draped it over your bodies.
“jason x sucked,” you spat out as miles began to tuck the blanket into your sides.
miles reclined once more, his arm finding its place on your shoulder, drawing you even closer to him. the warmth of his touch sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.
"you always smell good," he remarked, his voice laced with admiration, as he gave your waist a gentle squeeze. "is that the perfume i got you?"
a smile effortlessly spread across your lips at his question. the fact that he had noticed the fragrance you wore, especially since it was the dior one he had given you some time ago, filled you with a sense of excitement.
"could you really tell?" you asked, feeling a bit bashful.
he could sense the flustered effect his words had on you and responded with a sly smirk. as the remote made a satisfying click noise, miles finally selected a movie, capturing your attention. it was a satirical classic— a scary movie that promised both fright and laughter. "of course, i could tell," he quipped playfully, "the bag it came in made my room smell for weeks."
the sassy retort that was on the tip of your tongue dissolved into laughter, unable to resist the infectious humor he exuded. these were the things that made you appreciate his sarcasm even more, and more importantly, made you realize just how deeply you loved him.
miles smiled down at your laughing form, relishing in the pure joy that radiated from you. his fingers danced through your hair, a soothing gesture he often performed, as he loved these intimate moments you shared. planting a tender kiss on the crown of your head, he tightened his embrace, drawing you even closer as the movie commenced.
giggles escaped your lips as his hands continued to play with your hair, his gentle touch leaving a trail of butterfly kisses along your scalp. as the movie progressed, your positions shifted, with miles essentially becoming your cozy human blanket, his body nestled on top of yours.
with one hand lightly caressing his scalp, you both remained engrossed in the film. however, you couldn't help but notice the subtle heaviness in his eyes. between funny scenes, instead of laughing he would slowly blink, accompanied by silent chuckles that escaped his lips.
"tired?" you ask softly, noticing his drowsiness.
he responds with a gentle "mmhm" and a light snore, his grip on you tightening as he draws you closer. despite his fatigue, it's evident that he finds complete comfort and trust in your presence. as he starts to drift off, his breathing becomes more relaxed, and his hold on you gradually weakens, revealing his vulnerability. in this moment, there's no facade of stoicism or toughness, just the authentic him.
as the movie reaches its conclusion, the blooper reel snaps you back to reality. you reach for your phone in the corner, curious about the time. your heart sinks as the bright text on the screen reveals it's already 9:30.
"my mom is gonna kill me," you whisper under your breath, a hint of worry in your voice.
turning to your boyfriend, who is sound asleep in the crook of your neck, your senses come alive as each gentle breath of his tickles your skin.
"miles?" you call out, trying to rouse him from his nap, but there's no response.
cautiously, you place your hands on miles' shoulders and gently shake him, hoping to wake him up. but of course, he remains deep in his sleep, undisturbed by your sad attempts.
out of desperation you continue to try, shaking him a bit more, but it seems miles is completely lost in dreamland, his snores filling the room. he shifts slightly, but remains peacefully asleep, holding onto your neck and cuddling you tighter.
this turns out to be the worst possible scenario for you. the impending lecture from your mom, the potential attack with a lanky shoe, the grounding— everything seems likely to happen. miles shifts once again, clinging to you, and you can't help but feel both exasperated and affectionate in this bittersweet moment.
"miles, please..." you silently pleaded, but as you looked down at his serene face, a wave of tenderness and adoration washed over you. he looked so peaceful and irresistibly cute, and a part of you hesitated to disrupt his slumber.
a defeated huff escaped your lips as you surrendered to the sight before you. his bottom lip slightly tucked under his top lip, his eyelashes resting gracefully against his cheeks, and the faint smile that graced his face as he dozed off—all of it captivated your attention. it was an irresistible combination, making his features appear kissable and utterly adorable. the soft snores he emitted only added to the charm.
unable to resist any longer, your desires took over. cupping his face gently, you leaned down and pressed a tender kiss on his forehead. miles stirred slightly at the unexpected touch of your lips, but his response only made him look even more endearing as he leaned into your affection.
a smile played on your lips as you let go of any reserve, fluttering his face with multiple kisses. from his hairline to his cheek and jaw, your kisses were light and ethereal, filled with both gentleness and profound love for him. another kiss found its place on his nose, until the vibration of your phone interrupted the moment once again—your mom calling.
"damn, i really have to go," you muttered under your breath. summoning the courage, you slowly maneuvered miles off of you without disturbing his peace. gathering your belongings, you kneeled by his bed and pressed a gentle kiss on his scalp, one last show of affection before you run on home.
as you tried to move away, he unexpectedly grabbed your thigh, his grip leaving a faint imprint. with a laugh, you carefully pried his slender fingers off, savoring the sweet connection before leaving his side.
"goodnight, tonto," you whispered teasingly, ready to make your exit.
just as you were about to close the door, you heard miles mumble something under his breath.
"goodnight, ma."
he had been awake the entire time.
in an instant, it was as if you were hit with a flashback, remembering how you used to mock miles for his tough and stoic demeanor. was this his way of playfully getting back at you, by pretending to be a big baby?
"don't 'goodnight ma' me! you weren't even asleep this whole time?" you exclaimed, feeling a mix of surprise and embarrassment wash over you. the kisses you had showered him with while he was awake suddenly felt awkward.
"oh, come on, don't be embarrassed. i'm sure we both enjoyed it," miles chuckled, sitting up and leaning against the bed frame. "yeah, i was just messing with you a bit. it was funny."
"yeah, i bet it was real funny," you retorted, crossing your arms and standing defiantly in the doorway. "you always play too much."
miles let out a laugh, thoroughly amused by the small pout that formed on your lips. he rose from his comfortable position on the bed and approached you.
"aww, is la princesa mad at me?" miles teased, leaning down to your height, playfully taunting you.
"oh, can't you tell?" you shot back.
as miles sluggishly smiled, he couldn't help but say, "but you're so easy to mess with."
"being easy to mess with doesn't mean you should actually do it! i thought you were asleep for real," you commented, moving closer to him. "lo siento, pero i have to go home before my mom skins me alive or something."
miles mumbled, "didn't deny that you enjoyed it, though," clearly trying to push your buttons.
and it worked.
"miles!" you called out, your irritation evident in your voice.
"you're cute when you get all angry, you know that?" he continued to tease, his words meant to playfully provoke you.
as much as you wanted to maintain your anger, you couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle. you were still annoyed with him and his antics, but there was no denying the underlying affection he had that melted your heart.
he goes in for a hug, sighing softly as he kisses your cheek while embracing you. "alright, mami, go home before her anger starts to grow and she starts getting the chancla," he teases, but there's a hint of wistfulness in his expression as you prepare to leave.
you laugh at his joke. "don't manifest that for me!" you reply, worry in your voice as you slip on your sweater. miles walks you to the door, still holding onto your arm.
"no promises," miles jokes back. when you reach your front door, he keeps his grip on your arm and smiles. "i had a lot of fun today." he glances down briefly, his cheeks turning a shade of red.
"yeah, today was nice," you reply, returning his smile.
he doesn't say anything in response, instead emitting a soft hum. you turn to face him and smirk as you notice miles leaning in.
however, you interrupt his attempted kiss with a finger, playfully reminding him of his prank. "should i tho?"
"aww, come on, i'll make it up to you," he pouts, looking down. "please?" miles appears genuinely sad, and it becomes clear that you won't be able to keep up your annoyed facade for much longer.
frowning, you find yourself unable to resist any longer. you rise up on your tiptoes and cup his cheeks before leaning in for a kiss.
miles' eyes light up in surprise as you kiss him. after a moment, he kisses you back, and the kiss lingers on. eventually, miles breaks the kiss, his cheeks flushed and a smile on his face.
he looks at you, his expression hopeful. "are you not as mad at me now? did i make it up to you?"
"hmm, i'm not as mean as you, so i guess you're forgiven or whatever," you say, rolling your eyes playfully as you step outside, ready to start your journey home.
"so dramatic," miles chuckles, watching you walk away. however, he stops you at the door, a mischievous grin on his face. "hold up, did you see how red your face got?" he pokes your cheek and teases, "i didn't know you got that flustered." miles continues to poke your cheeks while smiling, clearly enjoying teasing you a little too much.
you give miles a deadpan look as he laughs at your reaction, not quite amused by his amusement.
miles kisses your cheek once more as you walk out, and calls out to you, "be safe and remember to text me when you get home!"
you hoped too that you’d be safe.
what awaited you at home, however, was pure hell. your mom sent you straight to your room after a heated argument that you wisely chose not to escalate. the interrogation that followed only added to your annoyance. you were definitely in trouble.
as you changed into your pajamas, you settled near your window and observed the serene scene outside. the orange and green hues of the falling leaves gracefully descended from the slender trees, landing softly into puddles. it was a tranquil moment, and you found solace in witnessing the slow descent of the fall beauty.
suddenly, a notification from your phone interrupts the peaceful atmosphere. it's from miles.
mi novio : i miss you already mami…
with a sense of contentment, you let out a loud giggle and swiftly reached for your phone to respond to miles. despite the trouble you’re now in with your mom, at this moment, it feels like a small price to pay for spending time with your boyfriend.
art from crittlyworm on tiktok
DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ALL WRITING IS @PRIMAVIVA.
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axeoverblade · 1 year ago
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Classmate
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PART ONE (CURRENT); PART TWO ; PART THREE
Earth 42! Miles Morales x fem! reader
Synopsis! For the life of you , you couldn’t understand why Miles had it out to get you so bad. If it wasn’t for the mid-year seat change, he wouldn’t have even acknowledged your existence.
MASTERLIST
Genre: light fluff, enemies to lovers like trope, light bully!Miles
Warnings: mentions of sa (nothing happens just mentioned), mentions of violence, maybe foul language but I think that’s it enjoy!
word count: 5k
Authors comment: I keep seeing School themed hcs and I had to say me sphewl(?), planned to be one shot but thinking about a part two. Sorry for any bad translations my Spanish is meh, please leave a like <3
Do not copy! All rights reserved to ©axeoverblade
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It was known half way through the school year at Visions Academy the teachers changed the assigned seats. Being in your last hour, you were pretty much comfortable sitting next to almost anyone in the class.
Albeit, you did have a few in your mind you would rather not be sat with. Kids who didn’t like to do the group work, kids who talked too much, kids who always were trying to copy answers, etc.
The teacher went through the neatly organized desks column by column, starting on the left side closest to the door for the new seating chart. There were only four columns seeing as the wooden desks were double seated. You listened as she went through assigning kids to chairs, finally reaching the last column. There were about seven other kids along with you still waiting to be called to the four desks available. All the kids left were somewhat iffy options to be next to for the rest of the year.
Only you and three others were left. She called out to the second to last desk, “Amanda and John”. You sigh a breath of relief happy to not be sat next to John who had a crush on you, your thoughts replaying all the times he had tried to get with you. Feelings were not mutual. “ And Finally Y/n and Miles.”
You walked over to the seat from the front of the room, seeing the Miles kid already getting comfortable in his new seat closest to the wall.
You never had the chance to talk to Miles much. Actually, you don’t think you’ve ever talked to him. He was very reticent in the classroom. The moment he finished his work which was always relatively quick, he was out of the class leaving a few minutes to spare coming back before the bell rang.
There was a reason you never made an effort to talk to Miles. In fact, it was more like you endeavored to avoid him. His hedonistic friend group were known for being-, uncivil. They treated others horribly, always making someone do something that would make your stomach churn if you had to be the one to do it. And even though Miles was known to never actively participate in those things, anyone who hung around people who did those things were bound to start someday.
What confused you though, he was extremely smart unlike the jerks he was always with. You heard he was one of the highest scoring kids, every report card stamped with straight As. That wasn’t much at this school, almost everyone had straight As and high Bs, but all his grades averaged above 94.
There was also no denying he was very attractive. Surprisingly he was never seen with anyone romantically, unlike his friends who always had a girl or two under their arms. There were definitely people were lined up at his feet though, always trying to cling to him. He always just brushed them off, sometimes blunter than he needed to be.
You had seen it once, a girl you hadn’t really liked had gone up to him during passing period asking for his number only for him to look at her and walk right past her. All his friends and their shallow twats of girlfriends laughed at her, walking with Miles past her.
She cried in bathroom for forty minutes after.
You stood next to your seat, putting your bag down. “Hi I’m y/n” you said, formally introducing yourself to Miles for the first time. He looked up to you from his phone. You watched as he took his time studying you, making you slightly flustered as his eyes roamed your body. He looked back down at his phone, disregarding your presence. “I know.”
You blinked a few times processing the abrupt rudeness.
You rolled your eyes and whispered a few choice words to yourself about the interaction as you sat down, realizing you were stuck next to him for the rest of the year.
You pulled out your phone, texting your friend and roommate Mei, who was across the room, about how rude Miles was. She looked up, seeing you staring at her irritated. She giggled before texting back.
Mei: He so fine tho 😍 ask em if he needs a dog
You: Mei 💀
You: he’s so rude n for what? Like he could’ve just nodded or said his name. I know he got that whole “bad boy” thing goin but ain’t have to do allat
Mei: Ion know gl tho 💯
You: Ur no help 😭 Ima ask for a seat change
Mei: It's the first five minutes you have sat next to each other, maybe he is just nervous from ur emmense beauty 😩 I know I would be
Mei: PLUS u know Ms Reita does not b swappin seats. You know how many times I asked to be moved from Jessica only for her to say tuff luck and move on? Seventeen times. Just give it time n maybe it gets better you never know
You: 😐
You shook your head and put your phone down as the teacher started passing out the work. It was a normal worksheet due by the end of class. You went through, solving the easier problems before going back and finishing the ones you skipped.
You were on your last problem when Miles hand shot up lazily. Ms.Reita looked at him and sighed, knowing that he was going to leave for almost the rest of class period if she let him leave the room. “Is your worksheet finished?” “I wouldn’t be raisin’ my hand if it wasn’t.” “Watch it Morales, wouldn’t want to have to tell your Mom you have detention would you?” He sighed before mockingly smiling “sorry Ms.Reita, can I so humbly excuse myself?” He batted his eyelashes for extra effect, clearly tired of the interaction and ready to leave. She huffed as pointed to the door. You snickered to yourself watching the exchange. He looked at you, a glint of amusement washing over his eyes, but the look left as soon as it appeared. He looked away getting up and walking out.
_
You walked with Mei back to your shared dorm, talking about the nonsense that flooded your minds. Luckily for you, it was Friday and you could go home tonight, you just had to go grab your bag and you would be free from this hell hole.
“Alright Mei I’ll see you on Monday” you said, grabbing your suitcase and backpack, pulling it with you to leave. She smiled and waved, still packing. “Bye baby mama” you rolled your eyes playfully at what she said. She would constantly make jokes about how she could care for you and be your sugar momma, even though she was just as broke as you were.
You walked toward the lobby of the school, seeing the exit to the building so close. It felt like knowing air was near when you were drowning, finally being able to catch a break and breathe- “oh sorry baby girl, didn’t see you there.” You felt someone bump into you, too intentional for it to be accident. You cringed at the nickname and gathered yourself. Luckily you hadn’t fallen, just stumbled causing your bag to fall off you. “Don’t call me that John.” You said, picking up your bag and slinging it in on your shoulder. “You know you like it” he said, closer than he needed to be. Recoiling at the sound of him so close to your ear, you stuck your hand out and lightly pushed him further from you. “I really don’t, I already told you I want nothin’ to do with you.” You continued to walk to the exit, only for him to walk beside you. “Cmon baby I can show you the world, stop playing hard to get.” You looked at him, stopping in your tracks, “I’m not playing hard to get, this is me playing I don’t want you” “so you admit you're playing about not wanting me?” He said, smirking. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, just wanting to go home. “For the final time John, I am not interested.” You walked again, this time he didn’t follow because his friends were walking up to him. “I’ll see you on Monday baby!” He called out loudly, drawing attention to the both of you. You scowled and walked faster out the building, happy to not have to see John for a few days.
Unbeknownst to you, Miles was watching the interaction from the beginning, ignoring his friends talk about the girls that passed or the sexist comments they made. He noted how you reacted to John, how much disgust surged through your body language. He disliked John, but for separate reasons. John was one of those guys. Class A jock who didn’t know when to quit. Also didn’t know when to shut their mouths. Granted, those were the exact people he hung around. But at least he could tolerate their idiocy, and it was better than walking around the school alone all day. Only kid he hung around that wasn’t like that was his roommate Ganke.
He watched as you scowled and left the school. He shrugged minding his own business, zoning back into the conversation about who had the biggest boobs.
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Monday rolled around quicker than you could’ve imagined. And it felt like a Monday, which never helped. You trudged into your last hour groggily, just wanting to be done with the day so you could go back to your dorm and sleep. Walking over to your seat, you looked at Mei across the room. She wiggled her eyebrows, mouthing for you to initiate conversation with Miles. You rolled your eyes, sitting down. Miles was sketching lightly on the worksheet already passed out on the desks. You tried to look at it, but the braid that draped over his shoulder covered your view. You didn’t want to seem invasive, so you just grabbed your sheet and began working.
Finishing the sheet quickly, you got on your phone, scrolling through your socials. You saw a news alert flash across the top of your screen, some message about “the prowler striking again” over the weekend. You swiped it away.
You didn’t hate the prowler in all honesty, but you would never admit that out loud. Whoever was under the mask did bad things, but usually only to bad people. Usually.
The police barely did anything anymore, making it hard to even go outside without getting mugged or groped or something bad. With the prowler being out and about, some idiots have been scared off the streets, enough to where you could at least walk to and from your family apartment to school. In your eyes, the vigilante kinda helped a little.
“Stop tapping, its annoyin” a voice rudely interrupted you from your thoughts. You looked over to see miles looking at you, semi-irritated. You hadn’t realized you were tapping the desk, something you did unconsciously when you were lost in your own mind. You pulled your hand back, putting it on your thigh, “my fault, ain need all that attitude though” you said looking at him. He rolled his eyes and started drawing again. “Whatcha’ sketching?” You asked, leaning towards him slightly. He looked at you with furrowed brows, blinking a couple of times, before going back to sketching ignoring your question. El tiene algunos nervios. Instead of just excusing his behavior like you did on Friday, you opted to invade his personal space; moving his braid, your head now hovering over his shoulder. He moved his body quickly, his reflexes faster than you could process. “Qué coño estás haciendo?” He said sternly, but you didn’t budge. “You didnt wanna respond” you said not looking at him, more focused on the drawing. “That ain’ answer my question” he said, you could feel the irritation laced in his voice, but instead of leaving him alone like he wanted, you grabbed the paper to get a better view. The drawing was a well portrayed mask of sorts, oddly similar to the prowlers, and a few weapons all sketched on the back of his paper. You raised your eyebrow at the drawing. He was actually really good at drawing, the detail for him to have started that less than twenty minutes ago impressed you. He snatched the paper back. You turned your head to him, seeing him looking at you with furrowed eyebrows, getting ready to say something. “Answer me next time and I won’t have to do that” you said before he could speak, a mocking smile laying on your lips. He rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath before going back to sketching.
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One word, Regret.
You really wish you hadn’t decided to let you imaginary balls get the best of you. Because now Miles how a personal vendetta against you. Damn your pride. Within the span of few weeks he somehow had broken into your locker and trashed you books, he made sure it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t fix easily though, just a few torn pages. He constantly would shove you, which he mude sure to do lightly to not actually hurt you, into the lockers when he passed you in the nearly empty halls when he was with his friends. He would say the most outlandish things to you whenever you passed him when the halls were too crowded and others could see what he did. He made sure his friends didn’t mess with you though, knowing they would take it way too far how they had with the other kids they harassed. And even though you tried to ignore him the first few weeks hoping he would stop, he never did. You swore you could feel yourself loosing your mind.
Miles had only originally planned on pestering you for a day or two to get the point across that you should’ve left him alone, but then he realized how fun it was to provoke you. You became his entertainment, or at least that was the reason that he told himself he went out of his way to annoy you. And now that he had gotten on your last nerve, you were like a ticking time bomb every time.
You made school easier for him, giving him something to look forward to. Your reactions were always so animated, almost comical, making messing with you so funny. He didn’t just mess with you in sense of picking on you., he would mess with you feelings too. He looked for you in the halls just to go behind you and pull you by your backpack into him. You would lose your balance then he would put his hands on you waist to stabilize you, whispering in your the cusp of your ear sternly to “watch where you’re going mami”, a nickname he now would often call you just to see how irritated and flustered you would get. You would always reply with a snarky remark, something along the lines of “he pulled you into him”, always stuttering through the sentence no matter the amount of times he had done this to you, siempre fue tan mono a él. Something that unintentionally brought his face to a smirk was how you never mentioned anything about the nicknames he gave you like you did with John.
His friends would constantly make comments about how Miles liked you and now you were off limits, but every time he shot the idea down with a quick annoyed face. But perish the thought one of his friends gets talks about you the wrong way. They had seen the way Miles looked at the guy who had walked up to and called you pretty. Didn’t ask for your number, didn’t do anything weird, just called you pretty. The problem wasn’t even the compliment, it was how genuinely big you smiled but it wasn’t because of him.
Miles wasn’t going to deny he found you attractive. He had seen you the first day he walked into Vision academy a year ago and couldn’t get you out of his head for week. Hell you were probably the prettiest girl in the school, but maldito eres molestosa. When laying on the bed in his dorm room the nights he wasn’t out doing his prowler work, he could hear your pesky voice ringing in his ears, también pudo ver tu cara hermosa. He hated it. He hated how sometimes your face would pop up in his brain during a mission, and it would make him falter for a moment. Something as simple as hesitating, even for a millisecond, could’ve had him killed mid fight.
He didn’t actually care for you, at least that’s what he told himself. So you can understand why it bothered him so much that he hated weekends now, knowing it was extra days where he couldn’t see you, feel you. Even if it was just a brush on the shoulder when doing partner work, or him shoving you lightly when walking past, glaring at you like you were the one that bumped into him.
It annoyed you to no end you were stuck next to him for the rest of the year. What annoyed you even more was how attracted you were to him. He was so dismissive toward you, and for some reason you would sit in your room giggling with Mei about how his laugh, even though the only reason you had heard it was because he was making fun of you, was the most attractive thing you have ever heard.
Luckily today was Friday so you could enjoy the weekend.
It had been a few months since you had been moved next to Miles, a few months since you decided to overstep a boundary you wish you hadn’t, a few months since you’ve been slowly loosing your sanity. Miles had taken it upon himself to mess with you in class, staying for almost the whole period now a days to do just that.
“If you would finish your work then we could be done already” you mumbled under your breath, looking at the shared work you had to do that Miles hadn’t even looked at, too engrossed in his phone. The two of you had been going back and forth since the start of class, now only roughly fifteen minutes left. He looked up to you, squinting from annoyance, “do you ever just, I don’t know, close your mouth?”. You rolled your eyes “If you, I don’t know, finish your half so I can go turn this in then yea maybe I would.” He scoffed, pulling the paper closer to him. A few minutes passed and he slid the paper over to you “don’t say anything else”. You looked at the paper, seeing he had completed his half of the work in record time, you must really annoy him. “Well if you just did that earlier” you said sarcastically, picking up the paper and walking over to the turn in bin, placing the paper in it.
As you walked back to your seat, John started to talk to you. You pursed your lips, walking past him heading to your seat behind him. That didn’t stop him, as all he did was turn his chair around to face you. “So the party is tonight, you can come-” he paused, putting emphasis on the word winking at you, hinting at something else. You looked at him disgusted. “And we can have a lot of fun, perfect chance for you to see how much you truly like me.” You blinked a few times, “yea no” was all you said before looking at your phone. You didn’t fail to hear the small, quiet breathy laugh that fell from Miles lips as he stared at his phone, overhearing the conversation. His laugh alone could make your knees buckle. You quickly brought yourself back to reality, not letting your mind flow with any positive thoughts about Miles. “Cmon’ baby, promise I’ll show you a good time.” “Ain’ I tell you not to call me that?” You said, annoyed that John just couldn’t leave you alone. “You know we locked in, you keep playin.” “John-” “aight hear me out, you come to the party, if you don’t have a nice time -which I can guarantee you will- I’ll leave you alone, how does that sound?” “You’ll leave me alone?” You said, intrigued by the offer. “If you come.” You sighed, “lemme ask my momma.” He smiled widely, happy to have finally convinced you. Miles secretly looked between the two of you with his eyebrows furrowed, thinking how pathetic John was.
A few minutes passed as John sat facing you, waiting for a response. You sighed, causing him to perk up. “I need to be home by 11, and you have to send me the address. My mom also needs your number and your mommas number, comprende?” He nodded quickly, typing all the information into your phone so you could send it to your mom. You sent the message, already regretting your decision.
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Sure enough.
You sped walk home, the time nearing 10:45. Wiping the tear that trickled down your cheek, you scoffed. The party started off great, you and John had a great time, initially.
Then things got weird, he tried to take you to a bedroom upstairs, you declined, him being intoxicated, grabbed you forcefully to take you up. You were glad you were taught basic self defense. You kneed him in the bolas and grabbed your bag, quickly leaving. You wondered what would’ve happened if you had dranken something, where you wouldn’t have been fully aware of your surroundings. You hurrying to dismiss the thought, happy to be out the party
Normally you would be much more aware of the world around you, had you not been so lost in your thoughts. “Hey there pretty lady” you heard, you couldn’t catch a break tonight. You started walking quicker, almost jogging with your eyes focused ahead of you, as you just wanted to get home safely. “You ain’t hear us talkin to you?” Your eyes widened at the mention of us, realizing there was more than one. You searched for your switch blade that would usually be inside your pocket, but it was no where to be found. You figured it must’ve fallen out at the party, you silently cursed to yourself. Three men were now matching your speed, and suddenly were next to you.
“What’s a little momma like you doing out here all alone, don’t you know there’s bad guys out here?”
“Don’t worry baby, we’ll keep you safe”, they grabbed you forcefully covering your mouth so you wouldn’t alert anyone, not like anyone would help. They pulled you to the nearest alley. You bit the hand of whoever was covering your mouth, causing them to let go of your face. You took this as an opportunity to scream for dear life, only to be smacked into a state of drowsiness. You quickly shook yourself out of it, feeling the stinging sensation spread across your face. Your ear was ringing lightly, and you could’ve sworn this dude knocked your tooth loose. You spit at the guy across from you, seeing bloody saliva land on his face. The guy behind you who was holding you let go and moved to the side. Before you could react to the new found freedom, you were pushed roughly into the wall behind you. “Tonto puta, all you had to do was cooperate” the guy in front of you said, wiping the spit off his face.
Ready to accept whatever was going to happen, you closed your eyes and scrunched your face, only to hear screams of pain from the three men, followed by an uncanny silence.
You opened your eyes, seeing the prowler standing where the man in front of you once was with a bloody claw. The three men were laying on the ground, damn near lifeless. Your eyes widened, your mouth parting from the sight. The vigilante stared at you, you could see the eye like symbols displayed on the mask slightly widened at the sight of the hand-mark on your face before recomposing into a stoic, neutral setting. You were too shocked, and mostly scared to say anything.
The figure got closer, to which you could work out was a male. You took note of the two braids cascading down their neck behind the mask, as well as the oddly clean Jordan’s they sported. You didn’t have much time to take in their lanky appearance, as they took a final step towards you, making it so you had to look up at their mask. Their presence loomed over you eerily. You gaped at him, your pleading eyes filled with fear. You knew he wasn’t necessarily a villain per say, closer to the flip side if anything. He did just save you. But the thought of an individual being so much more powerful than you, knowing that at any moment he would always in control no matter what you did, threw your brain into a constant state of unease. Feeling your heart beating out your chest, you raised your hands lightly placing it on their chest to stop them from getting any closer, even though you knew they could easily overpower you no matter what you did. His heartbeat was slow, almost calming to feel. “Please” you whispered, voice barely leaving your larynx.
As quickly as he had come he left. You looked around, finally spotting him lurking on top of the building across from you, crouching along the ledge looking at you. You looked at the Prowler one last time, making eye contact with their mask silently mouthing a ‘thank you’. He flipped away to wherever else he goes, not acknowledging your gratitude. You nearly collapsed, sliding down the wall. Your hands aggressively wiped your face before meeting your hairline, resting there as you breathed ruggedly. The adrenaline you had was wearing off, and the bruises the men left you with became more prominent on your skin, as well as more painful. At least your opinion about the prowler was correct, he was a good guy after all, to you at least.
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Returning to school on Monday was a catastrophe, news spread like wildfire about you being attacked by the three men, as well as your encounter with the Prowler. Random people were approaching you asking what is what like and other random questions revolving around your attack. No one however, was talking about what happened at the party. But you couldn’t blame them, not many people saw what had happened.
It was finally the last period. You wanted nothing more for this to blow over, and for you to be done with the day back in your dorm. You walked in, wavering slightly seeing John leaning on your desk. You noticed Miles sitting in his seat on his phone, eye bags deeper than usual.
You quickly sat down, trying your best to ignore John's attempts to talk to you.
“Y/n please it was an accident-”
You ignored him getting your pencil out of the top zipper of your bag.
“Y/n please just listen I was drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing you gotta believe me” he leaned toward to take your hand, causing you to flinch and pull back. You looked at him angrily “you think being drunk excuses anything?” Your voice was calm and almost at a whisper despite how you felt, trying your best to draw the least amount of attention. He sighed desperately, “No it doesn’t but you gotta see it from my perspective-” “what perspective John?!? The one where you tried to force yourself on me? Or the one where you tried to take me upstairs against my will? I swear if you come near me again, I won’t hesitate to cut your polla off, comprende?” Ms. Reita asked everyone to take their seats, causing John to look at you solemnly before scoffing and turning to his seat.
You huffed, putting your head between your crossed arms on the table. “What happened at the party?” You looked over to Miles surprised. You hadn’t expected him to ask you any questions, but if he did you figured it would be something about the prowler incident. “Nothin’.” You said dismissively. He looked at you skeptically. Before you could even react, he grabbed your phone off the desk and tucked it in his pocket. “You ain’ gettin’ it back til you tell me what happened.” “Why do you care so much?” “Your wrinkles n’ dark circles look worse than usual, wanna know why.” “Could say the same for you” he looked at you blankly. You sighed, “John got a lil’ too handsy is all, don’t worry ‘bout it. Can I have my phone back-“ “mami, how handsy?” His stern voice caught you off guard. He looked at John's direction for a split second, you could’ve sworn you’d seen Miles look at John with a look of determined death. He looked back at you eyebrows furrowed, “he tried to take me upstairs n’ I wasn’t feelin’ it, so he tried to make me” you uttered, a little quieter towards the end of your sentence. “Left before he could do anything” you finished, “can I get my phone back now?” You looked at him tiredly. He let out a simple huh and gave you your phone back, his full attention now on johns figure ahead in the seat diagonally ahead of him.
The class had been dismissed, luckily Miles had decided to leave you alone today, you were too tired to deal with his antics anyway. Walking over to Mei dismissing John's stare, you two began walking out of the class heading to the lobby so you head back to your dorm room. As you were walking back Mei stopped at a vending machine to get a couple snacks for the dorm so you two could have a movie night. You waited as she inserted her money, clicking which snacks you both liked to buy them. As she was stuffing the snacks in her bag zipping it up, a student screamed “FIGHT”. You looked over seeing a crowd forming and walked over to see what was happening. Bullying your way to the front you saw Miles on top of John, pounding John's blood stricken face damn near permanently into the floor. Your eyes enlarged at the sight. Miles was clearly irate, and from the looks of it, had no plans of stopping. A security guard quickly ran in and grabbed miles off John's limp body. Miles spit at John, yelling something at him in Spanish that you couldn’t hear over the commotion. You looked at John's body, seeing him look almost unconscious as he coughed violently and rested on his elbows, trying to catch his breath. You gaped at Miles, shock written all over your face. His chest rose and fell quickly as he looked around the room seeing all the people watching. His eyes stopped as they met yours, his gaze softening slightly before he looked away. A huff fell from his lips as he was dragged to the principal's office. He jerked his arm away, muttering something about how he knew how to walk.
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John had to be sent to the hospital.
Miles was in the principal's office, sitting silently as John's parents screamed at the principal while Miles’s mother sat next to him upset. “My child is a great kid! And how is he supposed to feel safe in this school anymore knowing this can happen again, huh?” John's mom spewed mindlessly, ranting about how she was going to press charges. Miles scoffed, causing Rio to look at him with a look of “watch your mouth before I watch it for you.” He just looked down at his hands in his lap.
Miles walked out of the classroom to head back to his shared dorm. He couldn’t get out of his mind what John had done to you. As vague as your response was, he knew more had happened between you and John. He didn’t know why it bothered him so deeply, it wasn't even really his business. He knew the thought of someone being touched like that made him upset, but he felt pure outrage from this specifically, and he knew deep in his heart it was because it was because it was you who had gone through it.
As much as he hated to admit it, he knew he felt something different for you when he intervened the night the three men attacked you. He almost added three bodies to his belt, for you.
Usually, as bad as it sounds, he would mostly let people get robbed or thrown around in alleyways. He would help occasionally if it sounded gruesome or of dire need for assistance. But he had to save his city from the sinister six, and petty crimes that were bound to happened weren’t the ideal way to do that. But the voice screaming sounded familiar, kinda sounded like you. The thought of you being in danger offset his nerves, and he knew a you were going to a party that night so he went, just to check.
Sure enough.
He stalked you from above the rest of your walk home just to make sure nothing else happened.
He walked into the lobby consumed by his own thoughts, snapping back to reality as he overheard John talking to his friends about how “y/n finally let me hit, she was so tight-”. He paused in his tracks. Ain’ no way acaba de escuchar lo que pensó que hizo. He turned to the direction of John's voice, this was now his business. He walked over, becoming increasingly irate the more John talked about “how much you loved it”. John turned, hearing footsteps approaching alarming quickly. He saw Miles, John knew Miles had heard about what really happened at the party. John scoffed, somewhat anxious he had been caught in his lie and afraid Miles would try to embarrass him in front of his friends. He quickly spoke before Miles even had the chance to say a word,“You ain’ needed here Miles-” John was cut off by a fist colliding with his face, not what he was expecting at all. Johns friends gasped or yelled in shock, Miles didn’t stop though. Miles didn’t even say anything, small grunts of anger being the only thing leaving his lips as John hit the floor. Miles siguan latiendo la mierda fuera de él.
“What you won't even speak huh?” John's mom said, facing Miles. He furrowed his eyebrows at her. “You wanna send my baby boy to the hospital and have no reason why? Why are you picking on my kid huh? You-” “You think your kid is the best thing on Gods green earth”Miles scoffed, cutting her off. “Cause he is, my kid wouldn’t hurt a fly and you-”“your oh so wonderful kid tried to rape a girl then went around yappin’ bout’ how much she enjoyed it.” The room fell silent. The principal eyes went wide, “Uh-Uhm, how about we resume this tommorow-” “well hold on,” Rio spoke for the first time, “My son intervened and helped someone in danger because their son was making girls unsafe in the school? Why is he being punished?” “Well Mrs.Morales we didn’t know that happened-” “so you immediately assumed my son was the cause of this not even getting evidence before?” “Well he did start-” “uhn-uh, their child is making the school more unsafe than Miles ever did. Why aren’t they being scolded for this?”
The principal apologized, saying Miles would be suspended for the rest of the week for starting the fight, but no charges could be pressed to avoid anybody getting into serious trouble.
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Miles sat in the passenger seat of his moms car, the leather caressing his skin as he looked out the window. A hushed silence had fallen over the two a while ago. Silence is always worse than actually being screamed at, the anticipation is always so suffocating. “So.. who’s the girl?” His mom said, looking at the road ahead. Miles glanced at her before looking back out the window, “classmate.” She nodded, humming. Rio knew her son, and she knew Miles wouldn’t damn near end a kids life just just for some classmate.
“Ella tiene un nombre?” He sighed lightly, “Y/n.” Rio nodded and hummed again, looking at miles through the corner of her eye. “At some point throughout the week, I expect her over for dinner.” “I don’t even have her number, how is she supposed to know” Rio clicked her teeth and smirked,
“Encontrarás una manera”.
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©axeoverblade
6K notes · View notes
luvjunie · 1 year ago
Text
— headcanons. what life is like for miles!42
a/n: i honestly didn’t mean for these to get so angsty oopsies!! i kept adding on so they’re also very lengthy wc: 1,751
contains: mentions of grief
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Everyone thinks he’s rude and impossible to approach—but that’s a common misconception. In reality, he’s actually quite shy and simply prefers to keep to himself. His quiet nature often causes him to come off ill-mannered, which is completely unintentional on his end and partially the fault of those who assume what he’s like instead of actually getting to know him.
He used to be open to making friends and spending time with peers, but after everyone found out his dad died— which was impossible to prevent considering the man who used to drive him to school now had a giant mural made in his honor— he began receiving a ridiculous amount of pitied stares in the halls, began hearing hushed whispers about how hard things must be for him at home now. And even though they were, he hated that he was being treated differently by those he once kept close to him, like a charity case. As if he were fragile and would break— like he often did when he was alone.
His old friends were supposed to be his distraction, something to take his mind off how he now had to grow up faster than he’d liked. Something to remind him that his trauma hadn’t aged him as much as he feared; that he truly was still a kid at heart. But instead, they served as a constant reminder of the worst thing he’d ever had to live through— skated around him like he’d blow up the second they said the wrong thing; responded with heartfelt condolences instead of laughing with him whenever he’d tell a funny story about his dad. So eventually, he drifted away from them and began keeping to himself all together.
Don’t put him in a box because of his prowler side hustle, this boy is smart as hell!! Especially with one parent now being gone and his mom struggling to pay the bills? He takes his academics very seriously, he has no choice. He has to get it out the mud somehow and he doesn’t have the privilege of skipping classes as much as 1610-miles does. He’s working two years above his grade level in AP Calculus and AP physics, and has been accused of cheating on his tests a couple times due to how fast he completes them, as well as the fact that he has never once asked a question from the seat he chose in the back of the room.
It’s not something anyone would expect, but he enjoys baking a lot and he’s damn good at it too. When he was younger, he’d spent one summer with his Mamá Lena (Rio’s mother), who had him in the kitchen helping her cook and bake almost everyday and it just stuck. It’s a secret talent of his that never really comes up in conversation, and that you wouldn’t know about unless you’ve seen him doing it. His banana bread muffins using a recipe he took months to perfect taste like the gods themselves made them, and he’ll slip one into his mom’s work lunch whenever he makes them because he knows they’re her favorite.
He’s a lover boy at heart, if you were to look into his playlist, the songs you’d find in there probably wouldn’t be what you’d expect. Listens to bobby bland, which was heavily influenced by his uncle, old school rap, and he really likes love songs from the 90s because they make him feel calm, and allow him to imagine what his life would be like if he could have something like what they’re singing about. He’s terrified he’ll never be able to experience that due to his inability to open up to others. And often, he doesn’t even try to express the emotions that are tough to swallow, a firm believer in the saying that ‘once you’re down, it’s hard to get back up.’
Keeps his room pretty clean. It’s probably the one and only thing he has control over in his life, a constant for him. His room is his safe-haven so he treats it as such. It’s basically the same as 1610’s, just with a more matured look, a lot less color and less expression. He unfortunately lost that spark for a lot of his interests, so you won’t see more than a small punching bag, some boxing gloves hanging from the doorknob and few stragglers in the form of posters he didn’t feel like taking down.
He doesn’t like to argue, at all. He hates fighting with anyone he loves and he’s very quick to forgive them or squash the disagreement all together now that his dad is no longer here. When Jeff died, they were still on rocky terms from their previous dispute and even while years have passed, Miles still has yet to forgive himself for that. So now, he usually lets bygones be bygones, and never lets a conversation end on a bad note.
Continued growing his hair out once he realized it was a way for him to bond and spend more time with his mom. Within the little availability they do have, between her working doubles at the hospital, him being pulled in every direction now that he’s the ‘man of the house’—uncle Aaron’s words— and having to do things he’s not proud of to assist her while still going to school during the day, they make the time. Miles only gets it braided by her, and he enjoys the talks they have when he’s sat on the floor between her legs with his back to her. And when she’s done, regardless of how ridiculously embarrassing it is, and how he’s now over a head taller than her, he always lets her pinch his cheeks and call him her ‘handsome little man’. He hasn’t looked at a pair of hair shears since.
On that note, he is very, very defensive when it comes to his mother. Miles is not the kind to go around beating people up just for kicks; mostly because he’s not that kind of person, but also because even if he wanted to— he can’t.
In preparation for stepping into the prowler role Uncle Aaron put Miles into boxing/m.m.a classes when he turned fourteen, and he took to the skill very quickly. So well, in fact, that his hands can now technically be considered deadly weapons in the eye of the law due to his extensive training— which means he could get slapped with a ridiculous assault charge that would have him doing some time in a juvenile correction facility over a simple fist fight. (if he’s not masked as the prowler obviously).
But, some kid in his history class thought it’d be funny to make a slick comment about how Mrs. Morales was ‘single’ and ‘up for grabs’ now that his dad had passed, and the situation ended with Miles suspended for a week after he’d basically thrown his desk over to get to the kid, his knuckles bruised, and a tirade of complaints from the boy’s mother about his now-rearranged nose. However, after hearing the disgusting comment he had made about Miles’ mom, she was kind enough to not press charges and forced her son to apologize to the both of them.
That woman is his saving grace, literally. She stepped up in ways he didn’t even know were possible after his dad died, barely taking time for herself to grieve because she wanted to make sure her little boy didn’t fall apart. He doesn’t let anyone disrespect her and that’s always made known by him. He’s a mama’s boy.
They kind of have a titfortat thing going on, him and his mom. Like how she always stops in to ask him how his day was, if school is going well or if he needs anything, even if the time isn’t ideal and she’s talking to a sleepy Miles at 1am in the morning who can barely keep his eyes open. Or how his uniform is always freshly ironed and laid out for him in the morning, regardless of how exhausted she is and how badly she wants to crawl into bed after her shift. Or how when he’s sick, she’ll drive all the way across town to one of the only fresh markets that sells yuca root and white yautia so she can make him sancocho (a traditional puerto rican dish). It’s the one thing she knows always makes him feel better.
And Miles does nice things for her, too. Like draping a blanket over her sleeping form when she dozes off on the couch in front of the TV. Or making sure her phone is plugged in, so her alarm goes off in the morning, because sometimes she knocks out before she can bring herself to do it. He even goes as far as to secretly slip some extra cash he’s made from a recent job into the ‘RENT’ jar she keeps on her dresser— dropping a hundred in every now and then when she’s not there to see him do it. She’s never once asked him for help, but the one time he took it upon himself to offer it, he was shot down in seconds, and was made to promise her that he wouldn’t worry about it ever again. Her exact words being “You’re too young to worry about something like this mijo, okay? You take all the money you make from your after school job, every single penny, and you save it. Mama’s got this.”
But sometimes, she doesn’t. And Miles knows that she wants to be strong for him. For them. But it takes two, he knows that as well, so he helps out anyway.
And with prayers that they’re not short— Rio counts everything in the rent jar towards the end of the month, and a string of celebratory whoops and hollers will always sound from her room when she realizes they surprisingly have some extra cash that’ll allow her to take some days off and relax for once, and maybe even do something fun together. He’ll listen from his room with a knowing smile, more than happy to let his contributions remain undisclosed to affirm her efforts of providing for them the best she can. With her energy so depleted from how demanding her job is, she���s never suspected it was him discreetly assisting, and chalked it up to her forgetting how much she’d mindlessly dropped in there after each paycheck.
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lazypanartist · 2 years ago
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"Sit Still"
Artistic! Earth 42 Miles x Reader
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Based off This Post I Just Made.
Mildly suggestive themes, maybe don't read if you're <15? Idk. Don't be gross or weird or whatever.
I'm also, like, STUPID tired rn, so. Sorry. No beta. And it's short.
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"Sit still, cariño."
The words were barely breathed across your shoulder as he worked behind you, and you couldn't tell for sure what caused you to shiver; his voice, his words, the breath.. or the paintbrush dancing across your spine as Miles flicked his wrist, finishing the stroke he had been working to perfect.
He sat back to admire his handiwork, and you snuggled deeper into the pillows you were in, face down on his bed.
It had been a small struggle for him, completing.. whatever he had been working on for the last hour or so. Only a small struggle.
Still..
Smoothing his hands along your sides, he breathed a laugh as you tensed.
"Miles!"
"¿Que? I'm thinking!" He patted your side gently, pulling another laugh. "I can't help if you're ticklish, mi vida."
Still, he stopped his roaming hands, settling one at the base of your spine to keep you still. You tensed again as he started drumming his fingers - a small habit he had when thinking.
"'S it okay?" You mumbled up in question. He hummed quietly.
"'Course it is. Can't believe it either.. all the moving you did."
You offered a halfhearted argument into the pillow, and he patted your lower back. "Si, I know. Let me just get a picture, 'kay? Then we can get you cleaned up."
You nodded, earning another drum of his fingers before he was standing up. The mattress shifted with his absence, an emptiness filling the space behind you while he moved silently. You only knew he was back for sure with the presence of a warm cloth against your back, tracing a gentle path up the curve of your spine.
"See?" He set his phone in front of you, holding your shoulders gently to keep you up and steady.
A beautiful flower bush decorated your back, pink and purple five-petaled flowers standing out against the green and brown.. bush, maybe.
"A hibiscus." He sounded proud of himself as he helped you further upright, pressing your still-bare back gently to his chest. "Means la felicidad. Happiness. Or, for me at least, luck."
He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder before his cheek was to yours, his small smile noticable in the tug of his face against your own.
"Because I have good luck?"
He chuckled quietly, smile growing. "Nah. Not necessarily, mi amor.."
He turned his head enough to settle another small kiss before finishing his thought.
"Eso es porque you're my lucky charm."
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quivm · 2 years ago
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— Miles Morales' future.
Earth 42 Miles Morales x gn reader light light angst (?). minors can interact! major spoilers for across the spiderverse. ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა
wc: 1.2k
genre + warnings:
very light angst if it even is idk who to describe it. extreme possessiveness (yandere), implied manipulation, implied death, kidnapping, being followed, gn reader but feminine pet names are used
notes!! i saw @ichangedmycornyahhname work of 42 Miles and got so inspired i was so happy. i watched ATSV the day it came out and saw 42 Miles was working in alchemax when they looked at where the spider came from so 42 Miles is really smart and my brain went smart villain = dangerous / manipulative with his intelligence ?? i love this headcannon so part 2 or other ff with this hc is definitely pending o(≧▽≦)o
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Your steps hastened, desperate to reach the end of the alleyway. Your unbridled heartbeat raged as the echoes of the rapid steps behind you increased. The dread and unease of the situation washed over your body as you came to the reality of the situation - you were being followed.
Anxiety at the forefront of the many emotions bubbling up worsened your ability to keep a level head. Realistically, your capture was unlikely. The claim Miles had on you was well known throughout the criminal world as an unspoken rule. Never touch any hair on your head. An immense help in day to day life in the overpoliced and crime riddled city of New York but you didnt know that.
This time though it seemed that unspoken immunity ran out, seeing as you were targeted after closing up shop and walking home. Words could not describe the terror that fell into your stomach as an icy hand lurched forward subduing you.
“Where are you going pretty? You have a nice bag, huh.”
This was it. Your end would not be in action or helping people. No, your deeming end was going to be by a group of thoughtless thugs way over their heads. When a frosty cloth was pressed against your nose it reaffirmed your thoughts. This was your deathbed.
____
A dreary house was the first sight you saw as you gained consciousness. The organised but messy state made it abundantly clear to you someone was in constant use of it, although it was not welcoming or homey. Fires and mayhem in the skyline gleamed in the window, a bittersweet view. Sadden because that was your life forever unless you leave NYC- which you could never afford but reassuring in the fact that you were still in Brooklyn as harrowing as it is.
Times like this made you resent Brooklyn, there was no one to help. The police had more problems than officers, criminals were rampant and encouraged. The city felt empty, everyone was on their own to see the next day. Community was fragile and easy to shatter into a moment of the past.
Fright jolted up your spine. The heavy steps clanged toward the door. Even though you were not tied up it was a matter of time. Maybe the men would let you go? Maybe they were here to tie you up? Racing through your mind all sort of nonsense was thought about, until the step stopped right outside the door. The door creaked open, on its last leg.
The illuminating light from the hallway and window shone on you. Survival was the only thought on your mind, though fleeting and hopeless. It seemed only achievable through pretending to be asleep. Your motionless body layed frigid, shallow breaths was all that seemed manageable as the heavy boot came to a stop right infornt of you.
“I know you're awake.”
The short and sweet statement shook your world. Fear paralysing you as you reacted by trembling inconsolably as you cracked open your eyes. The dizzying onslaught of purple welcomed you as you looked at your kidnapper. Horror consumed your soul. It was the prowler. Contradicting previous thoughts, you knew you were over your head.
Before the tears pooled in your eyes could drop, as well as your pride as you were getting ready to beg for mercy, another statement from the masked man was made in the same chilling voice although this time laced with amusement.
“Calm down princesa it’s me.”
The sound of the mask slowly unveiling the man underneath echoed throughout the room. Confusion bloomed in your mind. Everything you knew blown out the window leaving only fright and shock.
“Miles?”
Your rough around the edges, attentive boyfriend who treated you with the utmost respect was the prowler? The prowler who everyone in NYC knew. The man with no enemies as he took them all out. The man who created New York into the shit hole it was today was your Miles? The universe must hate you and everything you stand for because worthwise why would it play the shitest card it has on you.
You knew Miles was on the streets doing crime, he told you when the relationship got serious. As concerning as it was you knew you couldn’t stop it and tried to help him any way you could to make sure he got home safe. But you never expected he wasn’t just on the crime scene he ran it for the whole of New York. That changes everything.
“Mi vida, I know this is a shock-”.
“No! This is more than a shock Miles!”
Everything your relationship was built on was slowly chipping away. You both shared the most vulnerable intimate parts of your lifes, you thought you knew him. But he was practically a stranger. A second life untouched and hidden away which made him who he was today. This wasn’t something that could be blown over. With more confidence and left over adrenaline you stood up next to him.
“Why am I here Miles?”
This large reveal couldn’t take your mind off last night's events. You were kidnapped by a group of men and then you suddenly woke up here with Miles. Did that mean Miles ordered it? He could have come to see you though. None of it made sense and you needed clarity.
“Last night you were touched by some low lives. That's unacceptable princessa. I went over with Uncle Aaron and took care of them, don’t worry you're safe now.”
The gentle caressing of his hand on your cheek which would have been comforting in any other context wafted the smell of iron to your nose and felt inexplicably cold on your cheek. You knew what being ‘taken care of’ mean’t, you caused deaths. You were Miles’ and he was a possessive man, no one could touch you without facing the consequences. Your ability to walk downtown and come out unscathed made sense; you weren’t lucky you were a death warrant.
“Mi vida you are mine and no one could take you from me. Comprendido?”
Reality sunk in. You weren’t only Miles' partner, you were his future. He loved you, you were his lifeline to sanity after his Father died and he had shoulder the responsibilities of the family. The only semblance to normality and happiness in his life other than the close circle of loved ones that were Uncle Aaron and his Mother. And that circle only had one more space for you. He would never let go of you, he viewed you as an extension of himself. There was no where you could escape too, he owns NYC any manhunt he orders would end quickly. People feared his power and strength but laid dead from his intelligence and foresight.
There was nowhere you could run except into his arms.
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sakuraszn · 1 year ago
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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 !
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⌜ 🎬 ⌟ starring ⤳ e!42 miles morales
word count - 469 | no proofread
synopsis - what miles is like as your boyfriend.
warnings/notes - fluff, a hint of angst?? the reader is fem. ngl it feels good to be writing again cs it’s been a hot minute..but here’s a lil smthn for y’all (and for me),, I hope you enjoy it !
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MILES MORALES is the type of guy who will give you some nicknames to call you, and you love it. he’ll call you ma, mami, princess, beautiful it just goes on.
MILES MORALES that holds your bags no matter the circumstances, he’s a gentleman and will always do the heavy lifting.
MILES MORALES always needs to touch you. he’s clingy without even realizing it and will deny it anytime you bring it up to him.
MILES MORALES loves kissing you whether it’s your cheek, your neck, your lips even your hand. If you don’t kiss him at all he gets a lil upset.
“damn, ion get no kisses? what i do wrong mami?”
MILES MORALES likes hugging you from the back.
MILES MORALES gets jealous and his jealousy turns into possessiveness. he doesn’t like when any guy tries to talk to you, especially when they tryna hit on you. what do you need to talk to another guy for when you got him?
MILES MORALES who hates when you get mad at him and give him the silent treatment, he wants to talk things out no matter how bad your fight was.
“can you please talk to me, ma? Ion like when you mad at me.”
MILES MORALES who always gives you words of affirmations and calms your nerves anytime you’re overthinking something.
MILES MORALES will always show you affection even in-front of his friends and family. he doesn’t care who’s looking all he wants is you.
MILES MORALES who shows you off to the world.
MILES MORALES is always buying you something no matter the price. he loves spoiling you especially if it’s something you really really want.
MILES MORALES who pulls up to your house with a bouquet of flowers and some food.
MILES MORALES acts all tough n shit around other people but when he’s alone with you he literally cannot keep his hands of you and acts like a clingy toddler who will not leave you alone.
MILES MORALES who checks your attitude.
MILES MORALES who has a polaroid picture of you two in the back of his phone case.
MILES MORALES who gets to the point where he's comfortable with you to tell you about his dad's death.
MILES MORALES is big on eye contact, like every time you look at him you can’t help but avoid his eyes and he’ll revert your chin to him to make sure your looking him in the eyes. you fold every timeee.
MILES MORALES who introduced you to his mom and mama rio absolutely loves and adores you!
MILES MORALES teaches you a lick of spanish from time to time and he admires how you try your hardest to get it right even when you pronounced it wrong.
MILES MORALES who will put you on his lap. he just finds it comfortable.
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©SAKURASZN !
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ieatangstforbreakfast · 1 year ago
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Pairing ೃ⁀➷ Earth 42! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader
Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.
Genre ೃ⁀➷  Forbidden love, mutual pining, eventual angst♡
Tags ೃ⁀➷  Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.
Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ Chapters are a bit rushed, sorry bout that 😭 hope u enjoy tho
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Chapter 1: Behind the chain
Warning ೃ⁀➷ Profane language, underaged smoking, mention of death, horrible Spanish. Also, I don’t live in America so idrk how people talk there, so please bear with me.
FIC MASTERLIST
Next Chapter
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“Hello? Yeah, I’m at practice.”
As your feet hit the ground, the chain link fence shutters from the release of your weight— a sigh escaping your lips as you pull your phone up closer to your ear. The sound of your aunt's nags echo from your phone, bellowing across the abandoned subway and overpowering even the sound of your boots hitting the damp ground. It was shrill, her voice. Like a fork being dragged down a piece of fine china. Activating the flashlight of your phone, you swiftly slip your head out of your hood, the new spot now staring back at you like an empty canvas— devoid of life and color. It’s tragic.
As you trudge down the narrow space, your senses begin to process the stench of the horror movie-like scenery. You could hear the pipes’ leaking going along with your aunt’s ongoing lecture about something you couldn’t recall— somehow distracting you from your search.
But what certainly made you uneasy was the chill.
You hated the cold. You hated the way it’d ice your feet, dry your skin, restrict your clothes, and clog your nose. Though ironically, autumn was the season you found most enjoyable. Most of the nostalgia you bore came from the sight of those scarlet leaves— the smell of pumpkin spice, your mother’s old scarves, and the earthly rich tones of orange and red. It’d been so long, though, since your last happy memory in the season.
Nowadays, the nights are just longer, and the days shorter.
Soon enough, you stop before a tall, white wall, making you gasp as though you’d just won the lottery. Only then you started bidding your farewells to your aunt, who was beyond exasperated with your hurried adieu. Shoving the gadget down your pocket, your backpack falls right off your shoulder with a small thump, eyes still glued onto the blank space.
You make your way towards one of the seats, settling down your stuff while slipping your vape out the crevices of your sleeve and taking a slow puff— the taste of peppermint flourishing through your lips and covering up the stench of whatever was rotting in the railways.
"You're early." A familiar, sarcastic growl emits from the shadows. You turn around as the light from your phone blinds him, making him wince.
“I missed you.” You playfully answered.
The familiar gleam of hazel blinks and stares right back at you, the same stoic stare narrowing from your comment.
“Sure you did.” He huffs.
In the back of your mind, the same phrase bellows.
Well, well, well. If it ain’t Miles Morales.
It was one night, two months ago, when the two of you first met. You were an utter mess, and so was he— and it just so happened that beneath all that rain, the two of you found each other at the right time, at the right place. Supposedly.
The two of you bonded in loneliness and art. It was almost poetic, especially knowing that the two of you were anything but good for each other.
But you believed that that’s what’s great about life— the reckless things, and betting whatever you have on the line, for a taste of something thrilling. Miles knew how to pull on your strings, and the idea of being understood was still new to you. Still, whenever you do find yourself in the comfort of Miles Morales, you can’t help but ask yourself:
Who will we be to each other?
How will we change each other’s lives after this?
You couldn’t quite tell if it was your gut warning you, or your anxiety just being a little shit, but you knew the time to hear the answers was drawing near. You had no idea whether the possibility mortified you or not.
One thing for certain though, was that you knew you wanted him, and you were willing to take the risk to see him over and over again.
Miles took a step closer, his height towering over you like a tree. With a single finger, he maneuvers your flashlight away from his face with a light push.
"Get that shit away from my face."
“Awe, but I wanna see that pretty face of yours.”
“Stop.”
Cat and mouse was your usual dynamic. Though you couldn’t quite pinpoint who the cat was.
He clicks his tongue, moving away from you to head over somewhere else. A few seconds later, the power suddenly lights up and brings the subway back to life. Miles stood by the power switch, staring right at you as if to examine your reaction.
You straightened your lips and raised your brows.
"Well, you should've done that sooner."
He lazily shrugged his shoulders, approaching you once more yet with more meticulous steps. "Wanted to scare ya." He cooly confessed, earning nothing but another chuckle.
"If you wanted to scare me, don’t look so pretty."
Said pretty boy furrowed his brows, making you grin wider.
"Ay, díos. You're..." For a short moment, he thinks of how to complete the sentence.
You hum. "I'm what?"
".. so fucking unbearable."
"Awe, I missed you too." You smiled in a sickly sweet way while placing a hand over your heart. That certain sort of thrill began thumping inside you again, an unfamiliar excitement that got you staring right at him mindlessly with that stupid look on your pretty face. As Miles replied with silence, you shrugged and pulled the mod up your tinted lips— blowing the smoke away from his face. Only then, you gestured it towards him.
"Want a hit?"
"Nah." He dryly replies. "That's your first step to a rehab, y'know."
A low laugh exits your lips, taking another hit while slowly walking around. "With how fucked up I am, I'm bound to end up in either jail, a rehab, or a mental institution— so," You snap your fingers. "I'm just gonna enter all three of them."
Miles looks at you, horrified.
"M’just kidding. Don't you think I look hot while doing it, though?"
He peels the horrified stare away from you, instead choosing to kneel before your backpack, unzipping the damn thing as though it were his.
"What'chu got?" He asks, a certain twang in his voice that lightened you up. You head over in less than a second, grinning stupidly like a little kid in search of favor. You pull the plastic bag out of your backpack, waving it over his face.
"Only the best for you." You wink. "I just kindly borrowed these from my school's art club."
Receiving the bag from your grasps, Miles pulls out the newly bought spray paints. He furrows his brows at the sight of the bold fifteens printed on the bottom of each bottle, a tag left as if to brag. "Kindly borrowed, huh?" He skims over the bottle, evidently impressed. "Fifteen dollars per bottle? That’s a whole heist right there.”
“I literally just snatched it off the cabinet.”
“You must go to some rich kid’s school or sum. You even look the part.”
He gestures over your well-kept appearance. Your clean boots, pressed jeans, freshly done nails, and fragrant hoodie.
And yet you continued to look at him like he was the crazy one.
"... Miles, it’s called neatness. A basic trait." You stand up, stretching your arms above your head, the ache in your bones subtly easing. "If I did have the money, my art would be in an exhibition, not in an abandoned subway."
He pursed his lips, somewhat convinced. "Touché."
As he unpacks the paints, you stay beside him, watching as he goes through the colors and lines them up in order. You shove your hands down the pockets of your hoodie, humming.
"So what'll you be drawing tonight?"
"I ain’t really sure yet… The Subway logo, maybe." He shrugs, an exhausted groan rolling off his tongue as he stands up. "… I ain't got shit. I'm drained."
"Then why'd you come here?"
"Felt bad for ya."
You smirk. "So you did miss me."
He takes a step back, turning his head the other way. "I sure do find your delusional ass amusing." He mumbled, trying to hide the anxiety gnawing at his throat. You hardly notice it, as you were too busy staring at the empty wall, but Miles was uneasy. Uneasy in a way that he was desperate to hide it.
"At least I’ve got an ass." You airily snap back, silence following like an awkward stench. "Did you bring your sketchbook with you, by the way?"
He then proceeds to go through his jacket, eyes widening from the realization. "Ah, shit. I did... Not."
"Awe." You blandly answered, pulling out your own from the pocket of your bag. It was small, convenient, almost like a notepad. "Well, I've got mine here." You toss it over, which he successfully catches. "They're not exactly as good as yours, but you can skim through the pages to find some inspiration."
The pages spin from the flip of his fingers. Tens of concept art, a few unfinished sketches, and some dabbling in watercolor appeared before him in a flash. As he goes through the pages, you take the moment to have a momentary smoke, straying not so far away just so he wouldn't inhale any of it. The nicotine eased you as it normally did, though now that you were looking at this pretty boy before you, you couldn't help but ponder about quitting. Just for him. Just for the sake of him.
Though the feeling the nicotine often brought you was addicting, his presence hit you harder than any other drug, affecting your system in a way that made your stomach whirl. He was like your favorite cup of coffee— the strongest coffee to ever linger in your presence. Strong enough to appear on a drug test.
It was damning.
Dangerous even.
As the page flips again, Miles freezes at the sight. You take the gadget away from your lips, approaching him immediately as he huffs.
"... Huh."
Bursting in neons of magenta and violet was the sketch you made of a certain vigilante.
"Oh, don’t mind that." You mumble. "That's just some random sketch."
He brings the paper closer to his sights, marveling at your talent. The markers and the ink, mirroring the image of a cat on the run. His pretty lips part, mouth hanging agape as he asks. "You know this guy?"
A hero of the streets, some sort of final pillar carrying the weight of New York's safety on his broad shoulders.
"Well, I've seen him— Prowler, from the news. I thought he looked pretty cool."
Prowler, a name all too familiar to you. How could you not know he was? A man hiding behind an iron mask, a digital purple hologram over the metals, making his silhouette mirror a panther’s. The man was all your father recently growled about, the memory of the heavy morning still engraved into your mind. You can almost sketch it out— The stench of his tobacco, the shrill of his angered voice, and the image of your poor housekeeper silently brushing some broken shards into the dustpan. You remember sitting by the dining table, solemnly choking on your breakfast as you forcibly shoved it down your throat.
Eyes downcast and hands shaking.
"You think he's cool?" Miles' voice tears you apart from the memory. He sounded almost elated, like a child in search of praise.
"Yeah, I'd always wanted to be a vigilante, fuck—" The vape rolls off your tongue unconsciously. "Like, my life is so damn boring, but at the same time, I've got too many responsibilities to handle so I can't do the things I like. But hey, that's life, I guess."
"If you've got too many responsibilities, then what the hell are you doing here? It's like midnight r'now, damn."
"I kinda told my aunt I had practice for band."
"You're in a band?"
"…. No." You deadpan. "That's the reason why I'm here, man."
He snapped the sketchbook shut, sighing as he plucked out the red and purple spray paints from the line. "God, you'd be one hell of a headache if I ever had a kid like you."
"Woah, slow down, sweetie, you're already talking about kids and you haven't even taken me out to dinner yet." You tease, teeth nibbling onto your lower lip as you watch him crumble. He straightens his lips, forcefully holding back a smile.
"… Shut that mouth for me, would ya?" He shot back. "Just shut up."
"Oo, make me."
He pops the lid off the red paint, the sound of a nickel ball being shaken up in a metal can soon following. Without even an ounce of hesitation, he curtly sprays the paint over your sleeve, earning a gasp from you. You quickly snatch the neon pink can and start spraying back, the chemical smell wafting over your nostrils as the sound of your giggles echoed down the halls. A minute later and the both of you began drawing your new piece while being drenched in paint.
"Hey, pretty boy.”
Miles instinctively turns to look at you, as though he prided himself in the nickname.
"I need to do the top part, can you boost me?" You ask, voice muffled from the towel pulled over your nose.
Maybe it was the exhaustion, but he agreed without making a sound.
He kneels, tapping on his thigh, gesturing you to take your step. Taking off your shoes, you cautiously climb over, feeling his hands brush against your calves, almost as if he was readying his stance to catch you just in case you fall. Initially, the pose seemed to be serving you well, but when your ankles started shivering, your hand latched onto his head, gripping gently in panic. Miles, who was, of course, caught off guard, began shaking. You finally took a step down.
"Fuck." You whispered. "Can you do it?"
"Hol' on."
"I think you just need to like, tiptoe a bit and—"
"Be patient."
And you did just that.
He stretches out his toes in an attempt to reach for the top, but he fails miserably. Miles then turned to you, bearing the pout of a frustrated child.
"... Ya already know what to do, right?"
"Mm, yeah."
An irrational thought crosses his mind, and it battles against his rationality like a civil war within the confines of his head. A second later, his lone finger signals you to come closer. You do so, and he looks up at the unfinished crown.
"I'm gonna carry you, a'ight?"
"What?" You blurt out. "Y-You don't have to—"
"Just balance yourself." He skips past your rant. "And you better do it well."
Before you could even intervene, he's down and offering you his shoulder. Hesitantly, you position yourself. Looking over at you, Miles skims over your face in search of approval. When your hand shakily makes its way over his other arm, Miles cautiously wraps his palm over the side of your knee, hoisting you up like a trophy he’d just won.
"You okay?" He asks.
"Y-yeah. Just— yeah." You stumble over your words, raising your hand over to start painting.
You could feel it tingling in your bones. Skin deep, rotting within the confines of your flesh, insecurity at its highest peak. And it shut you up. Miraculously, as Miles would say it. Your weight, your body, your own figure frightened you. It would be a lie for Miles to claim that he hasn’t noticed. But he stood tall, hardly showing an ounce of any struggle— which comforted somehow.
He was pretty strong, stronger than you first thought.
As you painted, Miles stood there in silence. Trying his best to focus on his breathing.
But the softness of your palm atop his shoulder, and the growing warmth of his own over your waist. Miles desperately tried to ignore growing warmth burning his cheeks. He resisted the urge to dig into the softness of your waist, and yet it remained like a taunt— allowing only his nails to grip over your shirt, the thin barrier over your skin. It seemed almost vulgar, how his hand was beneath your hoodie, gripping as though you were his favorite plush. How his wrist was pressed against the curve of your hip. Then and there, within the span of five minutes, the silhouette of your body was forever engraved into his senses, his mind, and his touch.
But no one spoke of it.
"... You done?" He groaned.
"In a bit, hol' on."
You thought he'd start complaining about your weight, but he didn't.
You were somewhat relieved, but at the same time, it flustered you.
And when the little scene ended, you and Miles stood there, backs pressed against the wall as you stared at your new masterpiece. You looked over the chemical stains on your sleeves, glancing at him. "This jacket's pretty expensive, y'know. It cost me like fifteen grand."
His face twisted in disgust. "You'd buy a jacket like that? In this economy?”
"It's a capitalist world we live in."
"No shit."
The two of you share a small laugh, evidently exhausted from the whole art process. It wasn't all that much, but it was based on one of your many doodles during class. The cursive that spelled out Stay Out was painted in an intimidating shade of red, its borders tainted in white and black— a crown of thorns resting above the text. It seemed like a warning, an open threat. Crafted by frustration, but upon its finish, you were eased.
"Next time, we should do something that says 'Eat the rich' or 'Vive la revolución.'" Miles suddenly suggested, jazzing his fingers comedically. You click your tongue. "We might get shot, man.”
“With all that smoking you do, you’ll wither away before the bullet even manages to get you.”
You raised your brows. “Okay, and?”
Miles scoffs at your ridiculous reply, but for a moment he thinks about it— some sort of plan in his mind. Sooner or later, he soon gently raises his palm without a word. You stare at his hand confusingly, “What?” you then asked of him. The boy then gestured over his lips with his fingers shaped like a v, imitating the act of smoking. “Lemme try, at least once.”
“… You’re kidding.”
“I’m being for real, ma, just let me try it once.”
You think about rejecting his request, but the curiosity had you fishing out your e-cigarette in less than a second.
“Okay, but if you die, I’m not paying for your damn ambulance bill.”
“Just uber me to the damn hospital.”
Miles then looks at it, glaring holes into the pen-shaped gadget as though he were waiting for it to speak. After considerably taking his time, he plucks it out your palm and starts a slow sip, the collision of the nicotine and the flavor flooding his tongue as the smoke enters his system. When the heat creeps in, however, he bursts out into a coughing fit.
You snatch the gadget away from his grasp as he groans.
“Careful.”
"What the fUCK—, ain't that s'pposed to calm you down?—" He slams his hand against the center of chest in an attempt to ease his lungs.
"… Did you fucking swallow the smoke or what?" You sigh while taking a sip, the smoke smoothly exiting your lips.
"... You know what? You are definitely gonna die early."
"Oh, darling, don't threaten me with a good time."
“Pu—” He coughs a few more times. “Puta, I almost died there.”
You take your palm and began rubbing small circles behind his back. “You shouldn’t do the shit I do, even if I look hot doing it.”
“Ain’t nobody told you that.”
“… Why’d you wanna smoke anyway?”
“I just wanted to know why you keep doing that.” He groans, staring at the pen in your fingers. “I mean— it’s unhealthy as fuck, hardly tastes good, and it’ll kill you the ugliest way possible. So why do it?”
You lower the pen as though your long-lost conscience re-entered your body.. “… I don’t know really.” You mumbled half-heartedly. “I think it’s what calms me down the most…? I don’t know.”
“… You don’t have, like, normal hobbies?”
“The fuck— of course, I do.” You swiftly shot back. “I just don’t have the time to do them.”
“Then what do you do at home?”
You blink.
“What— What do I do at home?” You repeat, thinking of it to yourself. “That’s a good question, what do I do at home?… I do chores, I study a lot. I-I take care the house.” Take care of the house? Yeah, shit I ain’t Mirabel Madrigal. As your mind short circuits, from a mile away, you could already guess his reply.
“I do that too, dumbass.”
You click your tongue. “.. It’s complicated. The time I usually have for myself is when I’m outside, that’s why I lied that I took up band for extra credit.”
You smoothed out the details of your life, picking out a few small details that were definitely not all that important.
"Is that why you're here?"
"Yeah.”
The boy curved his lips into a slight frown.
“I mean,” You shift closer, sighing as you palm the back your neck. “Sometimes, places like these are better than my own home."
"Places like an abandoned subway?"
“You make it sound like I’m homeless.”
“That’s what it sounds to me.”
"... It’s just.." You run your fingers through your hair, eyes glued onto the ceiling above. "I feel more at home in an abandoned subway more than my own house.”
Miles hummed. "… I'd always thought home would be more of a person," He tilts his head. "Rather than a place."
The silence was deafening, but this time, nothing was urging you to fix it— because there was nothing in need of fixing. You were comfortable, weirdly enough, as you never really found comfort in utter silence.
“It’d be nice to be.. Someone’s home.” You couldn’t help but utter those cheesy words. “I think I’d make a great home.”
Miles fiddled with the hem of his hoodie, holding back the words that echoed in his mind.
Yeah, you’re doing great.
Instead, what slips out of his mouth was: “How the fuck are you gon’ be a home? You’re a whole haunted house.”
“Oh, fuck you.” You roll your eyes. “If I’m a haunted house, you’re a rental where all the drive-by shootings happen.”
“Okay, what the fuck.”
“When you go low, I go LOWER.”
In the end, the two of you simply bursted into laughter, sinking down to the floor to take a seat. Another hour passed and so did a hundred topics. They flew by like the autumn leaves, leaving the both of you unconsciously huddling close for warmth beneath the large scarf you brought. Two birds of one feather, one nest. Easy conversations, light laughs, and genuine interest.
Even when the conversation grew darker, the two of you infinitely felt cosy enough to confide in one another. Especially when Miles spoke about his father.
You listened well, yet there was this ball stuck in your throat that you couldn’t quite swallow. A heaviness in your heart, a stiff feeling in your throat. However, your ears were welcoming. His tone was grieving, but his words resonated with acceptance.
"He used to drive me every morning to school... We'd fight over the pettiest things, and god, I hated it, but looking back, it was better then." He buried half his head into his arms. "I'd rather have him annoying me than have him not annoying me at all."
The words hit you like a truck, leaving you defenseless. In a moment, your walls crumble as these words crawl out your mouth. "... Sometimes, when we're with someone, you can't help but wish they'd leave you alone, but when they're gone, only then you'll realize how much you can't live without them."
Though your words were meant for Miles, you knew damn well that they were also for you.
"... There's some truth to that, I guess."
"Does that mean that you'd miss me when I'm gone?" You tease.
Your gentle gazes collide, and eventually, you see that Miles had softened entirely.
"... Maybe."
“.. Maybe?” You repeat his reply. “.. Should I annoy you more then?”
“You’re annoying enough as you are.” He huffs, pulling his knees to his chest. “I hate you so much.”
“Sure you do.”
You lean against his shoulder. “Hate me all you want. I’ll pretend to believe you.”
A light chuckle emits from his lips, but as it fades, he turns his head, burying his nose in the scent of your hair. You were fragrant, and it was addicting. Slowly, he shuts his eyes and basks in your scent.
Then he called out your name softly.
You hum, looking up at him— the inches between you closing in, cold breaths like white smoke intertwining. His cold fingers dance atop your own.
“What?” You whisper.
His lids were heavy, gaze switching between the pool of your eyes and the plush of your lips.
Then and there, you knew.
But something screamed at you in the back of your mind.
We can’t.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
And you pulled away before your lips could even meet.
"Shit." You cuss, clumsily pulling the phone out of your pockets. Your hands frantically scramble to answer the call, the look of Miles' defeated stare stinging the corner of your eye. "Hello?" You began, hearing the chauffeur's voice ask back. "Ma'am, where are you?"
Your fingers press the side of your phone, lowering the volume.
“We're currently clearing up the room right now. Can you please wait about thirty more minutes? Thanks."
As the call ends, you frantically head off to start cleaning up. Trying to evade whatever had just happened— at least, you try to. It invaded your mind and heart, left you breathless and unsteady.
You and Miles began picking up the bottles, shoving it inside the plastic. You then flung the strap of your backpack onto your shoulder, holding the plastic out to him. "You can have it."
Confusion was scribbled all over his face.
"Didn't you steal that from your school's art club?”
You look up, thinking about it for a moment before shrugging. "It’s their problem, not ours." You grin.
Miles shakes his head in feigned disapproval. "Tsk tsk tsk, eres una chica tan mala."
"Don't start, the only Spanish I know's from Dora."
"Que?"
"Queso."
You shove the plastic into his arms. "No hablo Español, lo siento." Was all you managed to form out of the past few weeks you started learning Spanish. You threw a hand in the air, waving him a fast farewell while pivoting your heel to leave.
“Can’t I walk you home?” A suggestion, and not a demand for the first time, Miles insists “It’s dark as fuck outside, and you might get.. Y’know.”
For a moment, you pause to laugh.
“Are you worried about me?”
He nods. “I am.”
“I— wait, what?”
He took a step further. “I am worried about you. It’s ten o’clock. I think I should take you home.”
Miles looked at you in a way you’ve never seen before. It was unfamiliar, or maybe you just weren’t good at paying attention, yet now that it was materializing before you— It overwhelmed you.
It was breaking you open.
You bite your lower lip, shoving your hands in your pockets.
“… I-I don’t know, I don’t think my dad would like that very much.”
“And I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like the idea of his lil’ girl getting hurt.”
There he goes again, towering over you, his cocky eyes never once leaving your face. Lil’ girl my ass, you can’t help but think. I’m tall, asshole. You just so happened to be taller.
“I’ll walk you home.” He reiterates. Now it’s an announcement, not a proposal. “You can tell me to leave when we’re near. I just need to make sure you’re okay.”
“… Miles,” The way his name rolls off your tongue had him weak, and you couldn’t even tell. “.. Okay, fine— But, only up until the Gristedes down the block. Until then, you go home, alright?”
Your voice was too soft, too mellow. It made his breath hitch, made his neck tense in this already cold weather.
“Aight.”
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wisteriaiswriting · 17 days ago
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Spider-Pool meeting ATSV Villains
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Words: 497
Request: Remember that spiderverse request with Male Reader being a Deadpool Spider-Man variant? Can you write another reaction to meeting him this time with 42 Miles, Olivia Octavis and The Spot Requested by: @ma1egamer
Has kinda become general headcanons + a blurb instead of just meeting
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This man gets so annoyed at you so quickly. (Deadpool and Wolverine type relationship)
Won’t really enable you on whatever you do, but he won’t stop you that often.
He does have his limits though, where he will have to stop you, even bringing his uncle to help if needed. (Even if you have Deadpool’s regeneration, he will still panic sometimes)
Will deny it every time, but he is keeping constant surveillance on you wherever you go.
***
“¡¿Qué te pasa?!” “Well I–” “Cállate. Lo juro,” Taking a deep breath before continuing, “You’re lucky I was there to save your ass, who knows what they woulda’ down to ya.” Know leaning over your sitting figure, which didn’t deter you one bit. “So what I’m getting from this, is that you care about me?”
Leaning closer to him. He huffed, shoving your face away, sending you and the chair onto the floor.
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Please just stay out of her lab, she cannot afford to have you break any of her things.
This woman is 100% enabling you, just don’t get majorly hurt otherwise she will not let you out for ages.
Don’t try to fight her after she made her decision, all your ‘hero’ duties are being put on hold for a while.
Definitely entertains your banter, to be honest she thrives on it.
***
You watched as Olivia typed away on her computer, but you were unable to get any closer to her. This was due to one of her tentacles or whatever they were actually called, holding you up in the air.
On a recent mission you were dumb enough to get injured but smart enough to visit her when they were all healed, but not smart enough to not brag about the fight. “Y/N, you did what?” “Who, me? I did absolutely nothing, how could you accuse me of anything!” Pausing your dramatics seeing her look at you, “So what, I got hurt but I’m fine. It’s all healed, it does–HEY!”
One of her tentacles of whatever she called them, had grabbed your ankle, hauling you into the air. “You can’t do this to me, Olivia!”
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His dude cannot finish any jokes or punchines due to you either cutting him off or (Incorrectly) finishing them for him.
Gonna be honest here, He is so scared of you, especially if you still have Deadpool's swords.
And he's that clear, also letting you know that he doesn't really want to fight you, too scared to do it.
***
“Oh wow, this world's hero is more dangerous than– HEY!” Using his spots to move away from you just in time, one of your swords now wedged in the wall. “Stop doing that!” “Why would I?”
Watching The Spot get more frustrated, as he had to keep moving cause you didn’t let up. Which also meant you kept cutting off anything anything he said, “Fine then, I’ll go!” Finally pausing when the portal closed, “Fucking hell, what was wrong with that guy?”
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ihrthobie · 2 years ago
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42!Miles Morales x black!fem!reader
note: there's jus something abt this boy y'all....
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miles is hesitant to let you close to him. obviously he's seen you around his school and in some of his classes, laughing and talking with some of your friends but he's never approached you before. the two of you only really started interacting when a teacher assigned the two of y'all on a project and you refused to leave him alone after that.
despite you prodding at him to try and open up, he's not going to rush into a friendship with you. he prefers to keep people at arm's length while he tries to figure out their vibe so it definitely took him a while to stop giving you short answers and actually hold a conversation with you.
when he's cool with you, he's around you as much as possible. claiming the seat next to you in class, walking with you to your locker and again to your next class, walking home with you if he can. just anything to be near you.
at some point he does realise he has feelings for you and shuts down a little. miles wants to be with you but he doesn't want to lose you like he lost his father. miles starts to distance himself from you a bit but once he sees how much it's affecting you (and him), he immediately cuts the shit and tells you how he feels about you.
he's not overly protective of you but the need to protect you is there. the city is dangerous and there's no superhero out there to protect anyone. miles asks you to update him on your movements, tell him if you got home safe, watching as you walk inside the house not driving off till you're fully inside. little stuff like that.
miles would love if you braided your hair down to match his, especially if you added beads to the ends of your hair. miles loves your natural hair and any protective styles you get, he always wants to be the first to see your finished hair. he saves the pictures in a album called "my fly girl"
gives you his jackets without you asking, he feels the slightest chill and is already shrugging off his jacket to put around your shoulders.
miles loves subtle touches, holding hands, pushing his hand is the back pocket of your jeans, putting an arm around your shoulder. stuff like that makes him feel happy.
definitely got you matching jewellery, necklaces most likely. he wears his all the time except when he's doing his prowler duties. miles loves fiddling with the chain when the two of y'all are lying down and cuddling.
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pianocat939 · 2 years ago
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Hmm.. you’ve done yandere Pravitr, BUT. Hear me out, Earth42 miles had braids. And DAYUM was he hawt, so celina. If your brain has yandere hc for him, i beg of you. 😍 Miles with braids is just… 🔥
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Ok so I will say that there wasn't a lot of him in this movie so I won't have a lot to work with- but I'm trying- and plus I wasn't fully paying attention during the end part of the movie (I was watching but I wasn't paying attention on dialogue ;-;)
Again, testing the separate sections for romantic/platonic: same as Pavitr's they're almost completely identical.
Tw: sociopathic qualities, kidnapping, implied/mention(?) of isolation, angsty Miles- mentions of murder (I think that's everything)
General Yandere Headcanons Earth 42 Miles Morales
Type: Possessive + "The Dead Yandere"
Romantic
I have a bunch of labels for things I can't describe with one character trait so I'll just explain what I classify as the dead yandere: In short, one who doesn't feel many positive emotions and searches for something to feel joy. (Kinda like Ayano of Yan Sim but less intense perhaps).
The reason I see 42 Miles like this is that his father is dead, and the opportunity of becoming Spiderman was stolen from him (I forgot if he knows the spider part- but he's still angsty). Which I think in turn drives him to find joy or at the very least release from his negative emotions; hence why he didn't agree to help 1610 Miles.
Moving on- once he has an interest in you, his goal is to keep you for himself so he can relive those happy emotions again. He'll kidnap you and kill anyone in his way as they don't matter to him at all. Now I'm horrible at psychology but I say he kinda develops sociopathic qualities- only when it is you or his family will he show any empathy (but even then pretty low).
I think when he's captured you, he doesn't show any aggressive behaviour. He may be a bit cold at times, but other than that he's a lonely dude who wants to feel joy again. In the beginning, he's quite distant and doesn't show much vulnerability, but after a while, he'll hug you and show other forms of affection. He often has a dead face during everything, but he's rebuilding his emotions and therefore taking a while to smile and show expressions again.
The possessive part of him isn't extremely apparent, but he hates you speaking to others or spending time with those that isn't him. This is a weakness of his, as he is super vulnerable about his emotions with you and trusts that you don't spend time with others as much as you do with him. But once you're kidnapped, consider yourself basically trapped to him and maybe his uncle and mother to talk to.
If you show him affection, he'll be ecstatic, but he won't show it well. I think the more you give him acceptance and affection, will he dig himself out of his sociopathic qualities and become his past self again. But he won't stop being the Prowler.
"I love you. You're the only reason I don't feel so dead inside."
Platonic
I have a bunch of labels for things I can't describe with one character trait so I'll just explain what I classify as the dead yandere: In short, one who doesn't feel many positive emotions and searches for something to feel joy. (Kinda like Ayano of Yan Sim but less intense perhaps).
The reason I see 42 Miles like this is that his father is dead, and the opportunity of becoming Spiderman was stolen from him (I forgot if he knows the spider part- but he's still angsty). Which I think in turn drives him to find joy or at the very least release from his negative emotions; hence why he didn't agree to help 1610 Miles.
Moving on- once he has an interest in you, his goal is to keep you for himself so he can relive those happy emotions again. He'll kidnap you and kill anyone in his way as they don't matter to him at all. Now I'm horrible at psychology but I say he kinda develops sociopathic qualities- only when it is you or his family will he show any empathy (but even then pretty low). He just wants a friend he can trust and rely on.
I think when he's captured you, he doesn't show any aggressive behaviour. He may be a bit cold at times, but other than that he's a lonely dude who wants to feel joy again. In the beginning, he's quite distant and doesn't show much vulnerability, but after a while, he'll hug you or ask if you wanna hang out: ex. listening to music together. He often has a dead face during everything, but he's rebuilding his emotions and therefore taking a while to smile and show expressions again.
The possessive part of him isn't extremely apparent, but he hates you speaking to others or spending time with those that isn't him. This is a weakness of his, as he is super vulnerable about his emotions with you and trusts that you don't spend time with others as much as you do with him. But once you're kidnapped, consider yourself basically trapped to him and maybe his uncle and mother to talk to.
If you show him affection, he'll be ecstatic, but he won't show it well. I think the more you accept him, the more he'll dig himself out of his sociopathic qualities and become his past self again. But he won't stop being the Prowler.
"You're someone who I can trust. Someone who I can have fun with or talk to about life's problems."
——————————————————
The writing here is so messy and too scatterbrained to read but hey- I tried-
He looks so goofy to me for some reason I was trying so hard not to laugh at him during the last scene omg-
- Celina
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lady-ashfade · 2 years ago
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Pup
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Prowler!Miles x Gn!Dog-Hybrid!Reader.
Notes: The reader and him aren’t a couple, yet. But they both have feelings for each other. It’s just that miles is constantly teasing the reader by calling them a name they don’t like.
Type: Very short drabble.
Warnings: Miles being kinda dick in a cute way, reader being a simp for a minute, teasing, kinda bullying.
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Thump. Thump. Thump.
The sound of your tail hitting the floor went unheard by you as your train of thought only focused on the boy in front of you. His braids falling behind his tone back while he focused on whatever he was working on. Honestly he had told you earlier but you forgot everything else. He was just too handsome.
“Control your tail.” He commented louder and it made you snap out of it. His tone sounding unamused. Grabbing your tail and biting your lip embarrassed, your body now on fire. You muttered a soft apology that he could barely hear over the music. Groaning again he looked back over his shoulder, his eyes looking like the universe to you.
“Speak up, Pup.” He smirked.
You glared harshly at him for a second because of the nickname, you hated it. “Fuck off.” You flipped him off and a very low chuckle roared from his throat. He was amused now at seeing you mad. Turning back around with a light grin on his face to continue whatever he was doing you glared at the back of his head.
I’ll show you a pup.
But your plan failed…Miserably.
After you stood up and tried to ran and give him a surprise attack he had already been planing a attack on his own. Only not physical. Something bright orange and round passed by you and your attention was quick to follow. A ball! Turning around you chased after it and caught it when it hit the ground the first time and bounced back up.
Miles watched you grabbed ahold of the ball and your tail swaying from side to side aggressively. His chest filled with pride that he showed his own point.
“Good job, pup.”
You threw the ball back at him and it would have hit him, if he didn’t move out of the way. He laughed at your facial expression, “Stop calling me that.” You stomped your foot as your tail stood up. He leaned on the table with one hand and raised a brow.
“Or what?”
Gears turned in your head and he could see you trying to comeback with something threatening but it never came. It was priceless. “That’s what I thought, now sit back down.”
“Miles,” his ears caught something he had never heard before. A drop in your voice. “I’ll give you five seconds to run.” He looked down as your claws came out and he could see your teeth grow, a growl coming from your throat. Grabbing ahold of his gloves he smirked ready for some fun.
“Bring it on, pup.”
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primaviva · 1 year ago
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ICKS
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PAIRINGS: gwen stacy, miles morales (42 included) hobie brown, pavitr prabhakar, miguel o’hara x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS: things that give the teens and adults major icks from their girlfriends and crushes.
WARNINGS: mentions of toxic traits within relationships such as controlling behavior, privacy and boundary violations, etc. also not proof read !!
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— GWEN STACY
to start, gwen is pretty easy going so it would take a lot for her to get the ick from her girlfriend or a girl she likes
PRIVACY: gwen wants her privacy and she will definitely start grimacing at you when you don’t respect her need for alone time or give her space when she wants.
this is like a definite turn-off for her and a major ick because she wants someone who will support her even from a distance and if you keep tryna force her out of her time alone… yeah you gotta go in her mind
TERRITORIAL: it’s not that gwen doesn’t like a jealousy moment. if she sees you death staring at someone who’s looking at her or tryna flirt with her while you’re right next to her because she loves when you get all sassy or jealous. she finds it cute.
buuuut that’s completely different from toxic jealousy like borderline territoriality. gwen does not want someone on her case 24/7. she will get the ick if she notices you constantly blowing up her phone. gwen has a life that she balances outside of being ghost spider and if you are spamming her texts when she just wants to hang w her friends and not you just for a moment then congrats cus she’s sticking her tongue out turning green ICK!!
EFFORT: gwen wants her partner to be motivated and just try for things instead of doing the bare minimum or something close to that.
example. if you wear sweats to dates or just basic outfits that look like you don’t care or show up a mess and you don’t have a real reason for it. she gets that life can be hard and she’s had a fair share of just putting on clothes for the sake of getting dressed. however, if you just do that just cus you don’t care you will have her so irritated. gwen is a fashion girl and is always trying to look good and attractive to you when she gets dressed for dates and if you always showing up lookin like adam sandler for the murder mystery movie premiere then i'm sorry but it’s not gonna work for her at all
“how did i come dressed in multiple layers of clothing and jewelry but you somehow, someway came to the conclusion to wear a soccer moms everyday work clothes? you can’t be doing this to me.”
RESPECT: gwen does not want a girlfriend who’s gonna act all high maintenance or try to make her do things she doesn’t want. if you’re always trying to change her or peer pressure her to do stuff that isn’t her personality she will start getting mad at you
example. she tells you that she isn’t comfortable with obvious pda yet you try to kiss her in public anyway
if you don’t respect how she feels as an equal then she can't be with with you it’s that simple
LEGALITY AND MORALITY: gwen wouldn’t be able to deal with someone who breaks the law that’s not for the good of others or does things they shouldn’t be doing. she would get the ick if her girlfriend smoked, did drugs, shoplifted, etc.
she would not get the ick per say just from seeing you smoke but gwen’s dad raised her by the book and she wouldn’t feel too comfortable being with her girlfriend or crush who does stuff she was raised to say is bad
unless you smoke or do other things for stress relief, she would be understanding but still try and get you out of it just for your own sake. but if you do stuff just to do it then it’s a bit of a dealbreaker for her. gwen will not have a girlfriend who’s face is posted on the door of fine fare cus she was caught shoplifting paper plates
MUSIC: this really isn’t an ick but if you have music taste she deems bad… and that’s gonna take a lot considering that gwen listens to everything but country like you would have to be born and raised in ohio for her to get the ick because of your playlists
and this wouldn’t be a deal breaker because she would gladly put you on with songs but if you disrespect her taste in music like that may be her third biggest turn-off after privacy and respect.
if you have even one country song on the playlist she might start violently convulsing
she’s a drummer so rock and alternative music is rooted in her passion so if her girl didn’t like her music taste or her bands music she would struggle a bit…. a lot
and if we talk about ICKS she can’t even say anything because she probably chews with her mouth open and gets her hands dirty cus this woman eats fast food crazy. she would hate it if you said cringe stuff in like a non satire way like if she caught you saying sum like “not in my christian minecraft server”
“babe, it’s 2023… not 2018 so don’t make me break up with you, okay?”
to summarize, gwen icks at if her girlfriend or crush doesn’t like her music taste because she can’t deal with someone who doesn’t appreciate something she’s passionate about, she doesn’t want someone who is overly clingy and controlling of her whereabouts especially if you don’t know she’s spiderwoman or she’s just wants to hang with her friends, she needs someone who will respect her privacy and her boundaries, she doesn’t want someone who she knows her dad will not like for their bad actions, and she wants someone who tries just as hard as her in what they do.
— HOBIE BROWN
hobie is another one where it’s hard to give him the ick
BOUNDARIES: he doesn’t want someone who is overly clingy or attached to his side. hobie wants his partner to have their own life and he can recognize when it’s unhealthy that two people in a relationship are closing themselves off to their friends for the sake of being together every moment. this also goes hand in hand with if all you want to do is has sex with him because to him, it’s more than just a high libido but you’re just using him physically. and don’t get him wrong he is just fine with a partner with a high libido but a constant demand for sex… he’s gonna raise an eyebrow.
“can ya like not try and claw my clothes right off for a minute? damn.”
but if he tells you something and you do it anyway it’s a total ick for him when he gives you something you’re supposed to respect but don’t.
example. if he asked for time alone to be absorbed in his own music cus it’s what he needs and you ignore it to do the exact opposite… very off-putting and weird to him
COMMUNICATION: communication is very important to hobie. he thinks it’s very important that partners comunícate their issues to each other or else it just leads to problems along the way
that being said, hobie hates it when you don’t tell him something. not in the sense that something happened to you and you won’t open up about it because he would never force that information out of you. however, if something is wrong and you just choose not to tell him? he absolutely hates that. it would just hurt him if you didn’t trust him to speak your mind or feel comfortable enough, especially since he’s always there for you
he will hate it even more when you lie to him like that’s a borderline deal breaker if you are constantly lying or doing half lies
IMMORAL: he doesn’t want somebody who has a bad moral compass and chooses to do bad things. and bad things don’t mean bad choices, it means someone who steals from others who are struggling themselves, someone who is rude to people for no reason, etc.
this is also related to if his girl is unfaithful as in if she flirts with others, entertains other guys or girls, and if she outright cheats or sleeps with someone else
this is a definite “you gots to go” situation
BORING: hobie is always tryna have fun and live in the moment and if the girl he likes or is dating can't do that then the relationship is doomed.
“ya gotta stop bein’ a downer on the mood doll. learn to live a little for once in yer life, yeah?”
by boring, i mean someone who can’t let loose and try to have fun. if you are super uptight, overly critical, or just don’t get his sense of humor or even have one then he’s gonna get the ick because he doesn’t want someone killing his vibe by taking everything too seriously or refusing to try and live a little
he also doesn’t want a drama queen like if you do way too much… yeah no
MUSIC: similar to gwen, if you don’t like his music taste he’s not sure if he will be able to continue the relationship
yes, this sounds like a big deal but you have to understand that music is a big part of his life and is one of his passions. it’s one thing to simply not be into rock and even that he’s iffy on, but for you to dislike it completely or drag it on? hobie wouldn’t be able to stand it
to summarize, hobie needs someone who’s gonna understanding his passion for music like him, he also doesn’t want someone who’s immoral and actively makes bad choices that they don’t need to, he also wants someone who can communicate to him as well as respects what he communicates back, and he desires someone who can match his energy
— MILES AND MILES G. MORALES
miles knows the type of people he wants around him so if he saw his girlfriend or crush doing any of these things he would definitely get the ick
MORALS: if you are objectively a bad person like just being mean for no reason, making offense joke (racism, transphobia, body image, etc) and passing it as your “sense of humor” or just literally anything where you are actively trying to disrupt someone’s peace he is literally fake vomiting at you
example. you see a girl wearing a perfectly fine outfit, not something crazy looking or anything, and make a rude comment involving her normal sense of style, body, looks, etc he is just turned all the way off
miles doesn’t want someone with an ego or someone who doesn’t show empathy for others so…ICK
NEEDY: miles wants a girl who is independent and has her own interests. so if his girlfriend or crush is always trying to hang out with him when he is trying to do his own thing or link with friends of his own but they won’t leave him alone? yeah it won’t work out.
he likes it when he knows his girl can take care of herself, even if he does like to play the protective role. but miles also knows that he has to balance life as a superhero, boyfriend, son, and friend to those around him and if you just make that more hard for him then he will get frustrated with the clinginess when he just wants to spend time with his loved ones. to an extent, he thinks a clingy girlfriend is cute! but overdoing it is just annoying and in a way takes away his own freedom to do things he wants.
example. his crush or girlfriend constantly trying to be next to him no matter what, especially in public when they are with friends or if they are both invited to a hangout and miles says he won’t go so his girl says she won’t go either just because he isn’t going (not because you know no one there, but only because miles isn’t doing it)
TRUST: trust is a big thing for miles. he wants to be vulnerable with his girlfriend and also be able to confide in her as well as get that same treatment back. if miles notices that you don’t have his back as much as you should, he will get a weird feeling from it but also very irritated because he feels he is there for you and as a girlfriend you should be giving the same energy back— if not more.
this also includes lying. miles hates it when you lie to him even if it’s a half lie or the “bended” truth. he takes it as a sign of dishonesty and that you may not be as loyal as he thought. he also counts lying as if you don’t tell him something and brush it off by saying everything is fine with you when it clearly isn’t.
“i don’t know why you saying you good when you clearly have a problem. you can talk to me, you know that right?”
it would physically kill him if you pulled a “well…” and then said nvm because that’s something he hates the most cus now he’s gonna be wondering what it was until you tell him. it will haunt him.
PRESSURE: miles doesn’t want to be pressured into doing things or guilt tripped. sometimes he doesn’t feel like going on a date or hanging out, but if you make him feel a certain way for choosing to be indoors and reading he will feel bad and force himself to do whatever you wanted to do. he doesn’t want that.
miles wants to feel comfortable in his relationship with you and doesn’t want to feel like he needs to conform to your needs and wants in fear that it will distort the idea you have of him. he doesn’t want to be taken away from his hobbies and interest that give him peace from the chaotic lifestyle he has, meaning that he really values his alone time to just be with himself.
DIRECTNESS: miles does not want to chase you and get down on his knees just for you to be honest or say how you feel. he also doesn’t what you to feel pressured but at the same time will get a little frustrated if you can’t open up to him even if he does understand. at the same time, miles doesn’t want you doing the silent treatment, playing mind games, or trying to make him jealous. that is one of his define icks because why are you purposely trying to ruin his mood and be petty?
BAD ATTITUDE: he hates it when you go out of your way to be disrespectful to someone who doesn’t deserve it.
example. his girlfriend or crush is rude to other people for the sake of looking “badass” while he tells you to just chill
and if you talk bad on your mama? if you just talk bad on your family when they don’t deserve it in general…it’s a definite ick because of how important his family is
example. if you have a mom or female guardian in your life and call them out of their name, make disrespectful comments, etc when they do simple things that annoy you instead of genuinely causing you distress or harm
“who gave you the audacity to talk about ya moms like that? she does a lot for you so you better chill with that. c’mon now she don’t deserve allat.”
it’s a major ick for him.
to summarize, miles wants a girlfriend that is there to support him whether it means being physically with him or allowing him the space he needs. he doesn’t want somebody who is going to stress him out on purpose, do things he doesn’t agree with morally, make him question his trust, and play with his feelings. AND RESPECT YOUR PARENTS.
— PAVITR PRABHAKAR
AFFECTION: pavitr is very physically affectionate and just shows his love very up-front. if he tries to hug you, hold your hand, or even touch you just a little and you give a almost disgusted reaction it definitely gives him the ick. and not in the sense that you are uncomfortable with physical touch, but if his girlfriend seems annoyed by him trying to show his love it definitely turns him off a little. not listening to him, not making an effort to talk to him, etc. it’s like when you go to hug someone and they try to close themself off mid hug and back away jus because…
example. pavitr laughs really hard at something his girlfriend says and goes to give her a playful touch but instead he sees her giving him a glare for laughing so loud before telling him to quiet down and backs away from his grasp
PESSIMISTIC: he doesn’t always expect you to be happy go lucky about life because if anyone knows that not every day is a happy one— it’s him. however, if you are constantly negative and bringing down happy moments for him or good news by the potential bad that can come from it or just always complaining? you’re basically killing his vibe and the last thing pavitr wants is to have a girlfriend that won’t be a energy vampire and will support him wanting to look on the bright side. he is spiderman after all it’s literally his job to give hope and he will try to inspire you but if he finds that his crush his continuously complaining or being negative when there is no need he will start to be turned off by the behavior.
he tries to start each day positive and be a light at the end of the tunnel for others who see him trying even after a bad day and if you aren’t with that you gotta go
“how come is it that every time something good is happening, your first thought is to say the worse thing that comes to mind? i think you may be struggling with something..”
BORING: this doesn’t mean boring in the sense that pavitr girlfriend or crush isn’t fun, but boring as in she tends to be lazy/a shut-in and doesn’t want to go out much. he is fine with staying in but he wants a girl who is gonna put just as much effort into seeing him as he is going to being the hopeless romantic he is. he definitely gets frustrated if you have a nonchalant attitude or don’t care about things because he feels like you should always work hard in what you do even when it comes to things in your personal life.
example. he wants to take you out but you rather stay inside and watch a movie even though you two haven’t went out in a while
EXES: this is a definite turn off if you talk about exes too much and not even in a way where you open up about possible trauma/hardships you endured but reminiscing certain times, discussing talking stages before you both got together, and such. he feels like if you’re in a relationship you shouldn’t praise an ex person you were romantically affiliated with. he doesn’t just find it awkward, but also a little disrespectful and shameless to just do it in-front of him.
it also makes him feel insecure and overthink like, “there must be a reason she’s bringing this up.” he’ll also get irritated if he brings up that he finds it weird/rude and in response you basically downplay it.
DISORGANIZED: pavitr would hate if you had a messy room. he feels like peoples rooms and houses are a reflection of who they are, so if you’re messy? yeah, no. and i don’t mean the type of mess where you were busy and stuff has been moved around and not cleaned up yet, depression bed, but full on sloppy and borderline hoarding. he could not deal with that and i can imagine him beginning to frantically circle your room and offer you free assistance if it’s that bad.
“are you sure you’re gonna clean this later? and what does later mean to you because-“
to summarize, pavitr wants somebody who is gonna be on the same positive wavelength he is, tries to make the most out of every day, remains respectful and affectionate, and puts effort into how they carry themself.
— MIGUEL O’ HARA
BAD LISTENER: something that will turn this man off almost immediately is not being good at listening to him, comforting him, and everything that has to do with this man’s trauma. miguel wants somebody who is gonna be a shoulder to cry on even if he won’t actually cry often. he wants someone who is listen to him and just let him dump his thoughts without putting any of the weight on you. but if you’re bad a listening it’s definitely gonna get on his nerves.
example. miguel is venting to you about gabi and how he feels that he failed her as a father and protector but when he looks up to see your face, he notices you aren’t paying attention by how clouded your eyes look— almost as of you’re thinking of something else entirely.
if his girlfriend or someone he has romantic interest in did that, his heart would shatter and if he showed any sort of change in emotion on his face in the silence you could probably swear you hear the pieces hitting the ground. it’s very important to him to have someone to talk to because his group of people who support him has gotten shorter and shorter throughout the years.
JUDGMENTAL: miguel hates a know-it-all. he doesn’t want to open up to someone who he feels will be critical of what he likes, his hobbies, his lifestyle, his choices and mistakes, etc. he doesn’t want somebody who is going to make drama out of nothing and just play games with him by saying stuff just to get a rise out of him. will it work? yes. does he hate it and it gives him an ick that you’re trying to get him angry on purpose knowing how he is? absolutely.
CLINGY: he is a bit hesitant to physical touch even when being touch starved. miguel makes it very clear that he does not want to be overly attacked with affection or forced into being affection because he father eases his way into it and basically take things slow. however, if you try to pressure him into being physically affectionate or just cling to his side he will definitely get annoyed.
he wants you to respect when he wants space or time to himself, and you showing that support and allowing him that is basically a silent blessing to him.
POOR COMMUNICATION: communication is very important to miguel. and not communication in terms of talking to him regularly and he gets mad at you of you don’t talk to him, because while that can be the case sometimes if he notices you avoiding him, it’s more so about talking to him.
“you know, i feel like a babysitter talking to a noisy kid that still doesn’t know how to listen to when they’re being talk to.”
example. he notices you acting off and asks you about it but instead of saying a genuine answer you make up a lie or completely shrug it off, which prompts an argument because he confronts you for not talking to him
miguel would never force you to open up, but he also doesn’t want you to lie. if there is truly something wrong, he at least wants you to voice that instead of lying and saying everything is fine because it creates distrust and other underlying problems. a simple “i don’t want to talk about it” would keep him at ease and he would offer you anything to make you feel better. however, if you go out of your way to not communicate well with him especially during arguments than he will begin to get the ick
example. you and him get into an argument and after it you decide to ignore him which he views as childish and petty as it causes a rift between you two.
DIRECTNESS: similar to miles, miguel wants his girlfriend to be straightforward with how she feels. he doesn’t wish for her to sugarcoat things just to try and ease his mind because to him that feels like bending the truth and taking away a layer of what you really want to say. he doesn’t want you to be “childish” when addressing problems in the relationship and he will set you straight or he sees you acting this way while he’s trying to communicate with you.
but if he can’t persuade you the act different as well as handle things better and you can’t bother to change, that will be the end of the relationship to him. biggest ick of icks for him.
also random but he also as icks linked to the self image of his partner. he would be an angrier man if you had bad hygiene, kept apologizing 24/7, and doubted yourself most of the time similar to nice guys who are just self pitying. even if you aren’t self pitying… his reaction is still the same.
“ay mamita, have some dignity please.”
to summarize, miguel wants a partner who is going to support him no matter what he needs to do and to ground him. but he isn’t looking to keep someone around him who is constantly neglecting his emotional needs, critical of his personal experiences, making his life harder by disrespecting boundaries and not wanting to communicate with him, and ultimately doing too much than needed.
DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ALL WRITING IS @PRIMAVIVA.
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axeoverblade · 1 year ago
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THINKING ABOUT…
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42! Miles having to learn to drive from Uncle Aaron in their free time because Rio is too busy to teach him and he can’t learn any other way…
“If I say stop, you stop. understood?” Aaron reiterated for the fifth time. Miles nodded with a roll of his eyes, trying his best to not show how eager (and nervous) he was to be behind the wheel.
“Aight you’re goin’ to SLOWLY pull up here and make a right turn, S L O W L Y” Aaron said, checking for the seventh time to make sure he was buckled in.
Miles smiled, lightly pressing the gas to move the car forward.
He followed the correct protocols, making sure to stop at the stop sign, turn his signal on, look for cars, then swiftly (not so smoothly) turned his wheel to make the right turn. However instead of pressing the break to ease into the turn, he accidentally hit the gas making the car fly around the corner.
Aaron grabbed the handle above him, exasperatedly using his other hand to hold onto the dash in front of him. “STOP.” Miles winced, hitting the break harshly causing the car to jolt. They both rocked forward, the air falling into small awkward silence.
Aaron turned to miles aggressively, staring at him with a look of bewilderment “DAMN NIGGA I SAID SLOW.”
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©axeoverblade
This has been on my mind non stop 😭🫶
Uncle Aaron and Miles:
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luvjunie · 1 year ago
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KNEW BETTER — e42!miles x fem!reader
SUMMARY. the alluring pull of a stranger entices you to make a risky decision all too familiar to your last WORD COUNT. 3,754 CONTENTS. miles and reader are in their late teens for realistic purposes, language, brief mention of a kiss, my attempt at an adequate plot and characterizations that actually have substance SONG INSPO. “knew better/forever boy” by ariana grande AUTHOR’S NOTE. i currently have no plans to take this further but inspiration struck and i had to write it lolll
How did you end up here?
Sticking out like a sore thumb on the roof top of a family party that definitely wasn’t yours, though they’d started to feel like it in the last few months. It’s not like your family would be mature enough to come together, put their pride aside for five minutes, and get along the way these people were. And after your parents’ separation became official earlier this year, negotiation was way out of the question. This distraction from the chaos you left back home was more than welcomed.
Your friend’s hand was starting to pale from how hard you were clutching onto it, yet you didn’t notice. The music was loud and a little upbeat for your taste, but you slightly bobbed your head to it anyway, a mindless thing you found yourself doing regardless of whether you could understand the lyrics to the song or not. There's no way you’d be caught dead at a party looking as if you didn’t have at least an ounce of rhythm.
Noticing your nerves, as well as the growing ache of her fingers, your friend Camila turned her head to the side, her silky, chestnut brown tresses flowing over her shoulder when she shouted over the bass of the speakers.
“Don’t be nervous! They’re all real nice, I promise!”
"Camila—" barely hearing what she said, you stopped for a second to give a sweet smile to an older lady who passed you, then softly tugged her arm to get her attention. “Can’t we just, stay in that cute little corner over there with the—“ you paused. “What are those— enchiladas?”
“Empanadas.” She corrected with a lighthearted eyeroll, her Queen’s accent heavy on her tongue. “And no way! I want you to meet everyone.”
"Everyone—wait what?” Your eyes bulged. You probably resembled a looney-tunes character at the moment. “I thought I’d officially met everyone last month at the uhh— the fuckin—“ You made a wafting motion with your hands, as if it’d prompt your brain to get your thoughts out as quickly as the two of you were walking. “The Heritage Month BBQ, thingy?”
This was the first time the doe-eyed girl had stopped to look at you throughout your walk through the venue—like, actually look at you—and of course it was only to laugh at your ridiculous observation. She nearly doubled over.
“Ha!- Yeah, nah. That was a funny joke though.” she giggled. “That was family family. This is family and family friends. So basically, more family. You know that!”
Oh yeah. Makes complete sense. Family didn’t even sound like a word anymore at this point, you thought to yourself as she pulled the both of you to a stop at the drink table.
You and Camila had been friends ever since the second grade. The girl had the prettiest hazel eyes and the longest, shiniest hair you'd ever seen. Since time she’s liked to refer to herself as the “Puerto Rican-Filipina Rapunzel", and though the term she’d come up with was a bit of a mouthful, you’d be lying if you tried to disagree.
She’d waltzed up to your secluded spot at indoor recess in Mrs. Walter’s class, demanded the two of you be friends, and even gave you a pink Hello Kitty sticker to accompany her proposition.
And seeing as you couldn’t remember much before that, you really couldn’t remember a time when Camila wasn’t in your life, either. Protecting you from anyone who might have anything to say about her bestfriend, and always quick to step in front of you and get in someone’s face about it, even if the someone in question was a burly 6’3 football player who had to crane his neck to look down at who was cursing him out a mile a minute.
If people saw Camila, they saw you, too. That’s just how the two of you rolled. And yeah, you’d been to more than a few family parties, slapped on some low-waisted, bejeweled miss-me jeans and boots to fit in with the dress code, and attended a few bailes even though you couldn’t dance for shit. But you’d never been to a gathering of theirs that was this large. What was the occasion?
As you watched her scoop a ladle of some sort of homemade drink mix into a red solo cup, you realized you’d unintentionally asked the question in your head.
“So, what’s the big occasion?” You took in your surroundings, noting how happy everyone looked.
“Ah, my aunt finished her M.D program, or somethin’ like that. Basically, she’s gonna be a real big doctor soon, so you know we had to party. My cousin invited me."
“Mm,” you nodded stalely, accepting the cup she quickly pushed into your hand before she went to pour another for herself.
“Speaking of my cousin…”
There was a mischievous glint in Camila’s eyes. Was mischevious the right word? Maybe excited, but either way, you didn’t like it one bit.
Mid sip, you slowly lowered your drink from your lips, eyes narrowing at her in suspicion.
“Camila Janaé Reyes. What are you plotting?”
“Nothingggg!”
Judging by that tone, it was definitely not nothing.
“I just want you to meet him, that’s all.” Her words drawled as she gave you one of her sickeningly sweet smiles, and you whined like a child who’d just been asked to put a coat on before leaving the house.
“Seriously, ‘Mila? That’s why you invited me?”
“No! Well… Kinda?” she grimaced.
Your bestfriend could be quite persistent, especially with specific things others didn’t want her to be persistent with. Every human on this earth had a trait that irritated someone or made them slightly less favorable, and of course, that trait is almost impossible to recognize in yourself.
This—the overbearing persistence, the thinking that she knew better for everyone than they did themselves—was Camila’s, and it irked you to your core like no other.
“Camila, I told you, no boys. I don’t even think I have it in me after..." The rest of the sentence died on your tongue as your hand came up to pinch the bridge of your nose, prompting Camila to give you a knowing head nod. With her, you didn’t even have to finish the thought.
“I know, I know,” she said. “But his mom’s been a little worried about how quiet he’s gotten and asked if I could bring someone for him to talk to. So, I thought maybe you guys could be friends or something. That’s it! He don’t got many, and you—well…”
You almost cracked a smile at that, even though you were still annoyed with her. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
You somehow found it in you to let your guard down a bit, which, in theory, would probably come back to bite you in the ass later. You just didn’t know how soon that would be the case.
Your shoulders slumped, a telltale sign of you ready to throw in the towel, just this once like you always did. Camila was already getting excited.
“Alright, alright. Who’s your cousin?”
The petite girl rolled her lips inward to bite back a wide grin, and instead of answering you, she slid beside you and slunk her arm around your shoulders. Her neck stretched for a second as she scanned the lively gathering, her eyes widening once she found who she was scouting for.
She gestured with her chin, not wanting to make it obvious.
“See that guy by himself over there? Like, six foot two, wide shoulders, lowkey thinks he’s Batman, kinda gotta mug on him? He’s nice though, swear. When he wants to be.”
You squinted into the distance. “Uhh… I think that’s a woman, ‘Mila.”
She gasped at that, shoving your shoulder hard enough to almost make you stumble. “No not my Tia Beatriz, you bitch!”
“Oh shit—“
A laugh tore through your apology before you could stop it, and the girl next to you made a sound with her throat that was clearly her trying to hold back her own laughter.
"Idiota," she mumbled.
Two hands clamped down on your shoulders before you felt your body shift to the side a bit, someone else coming into view once your perspective changed.
“I’m talkin’bout him.”
The last time you could recall your heart dropping into your ass at this same rate was when your mom caught you trying to stuff your bra in the sixth grade before the bus arrived. And somehow, that feeling still wasn’t comparable to this.
This—this was much different.
“Y’see him?”
How could you not?
A little ways down, casually leaned back on an elbow at the tall edge of the roof, stood a lanky-looking, brownskinned boy who was far too handsome for his own good. Clad in a fitted black shirt and a cropped leather jacket, you could tell that piece of clothing alone cost more than your entire outfit. He was rocking some straight-legged, black cargo pants and a pair of Air Jordan 1’s you’d never seen before. There was a jaded look plastered on his face, and something about his body language led you to believe that he was forcing himself to be here.
You swallowed,
“That’s your cousin?”
Camila’s insanely, good looking, cousin, if you hadn’t mentioned that already. Not even her older brother was this fine. This boy put the childish crush you had on Luis to absolute shame.
“Mm-hm.”
Your gaze alternated back and forth between her and the boy in the distance. "But, you guys don’t—“
“Yeah, yeah, I know. We get that a lot, big family.” She waved you off, probably having heard this a million times.
Her posture suddenly straightened with newfound determination, and it made your heart jump.
“Well, what are we just standin’ here for? Let’s go-“
“Nope. Nuh uh.”
Camila’s head recoiled when she raised a questioning brow at you. “Fuck you mean ‘nuh uh’?”
You balked at her as if the answer were obvious.
“I am not talking to that man!”
“Well why not?” she asked incredulously.
“Because he is fine as hell, are you crazy? I ain’t got no business goin’ over there.” You don’t know why you were lowering your voice; it’s not like he’d be able to hear you over the music anyway.
But, just by a stroke of luck, he suddenly looked up, probably due to the sweltering heat of your eyes dissecting his entire persona.
“Anddd now he’s looking at me. Oh my god,” you whisked around as casually as you could play off, fingers pressed to your hot forehead as you cursed beneath your breath.
His line of sight was cast in your direction, and though he could’ve been looking right past you, which was simply wishful thinking on your end, that was a chance you absolutely weren’t going to take.
“Yeah, he’s always able to catch people staring. I don't know how he does it… And s’kinda weird now that I think about it…” Camila mumbled distractedly to herself, her pondering eyes drifting skywards. A sharp elbow to her side, yours to be exact, was enough to pull her out of her observation and earn you a pained whine.
“Focus! What do I do now? He probably thinks I’m a creep.” you groaned.
A puff of amused air blew from her nose. “Yeah, I doubt that. He’s a bit of an odd ball himself.”
That definitely did nothing to make you feel better.
“Besides, he don’t bite,"
Your feet weren’t moving on your own accord as you began walking; it was Camila tugging you out of your in-plain sight hiding spot and towards the very boy you were just marveling at.
“I think.” she added.
“Camila, I really don’t think this is a good idea—“
Through the rush of the brief murmur-screamed argument you had with her, the walk over to him was surprisingly much shorter than your brain had estimated it to be. And of course, ever the gentleman with perfect manners, the boy in question clicked his phone off and tucked it away in his front pocket once he saw the both of you approaching him.
Camila put on her sweetest voice, and albeit a bit annoying, her intentions were pure.
“Heyyy, Miles! How are you?”
Miles. That’s a cute name. Or is it only cute because I think he’s cute? Fuck, I’m spacing out, aren’t I?
The light baritone in his voice edged you to believe that it was the latter.
“Hey cous’, I’m straight.”
Miles was talking to Camila, but he was staring dead at you while he did, as if he was purposely trying to send you into a terribly premature fit of cardiac arrest.
He had a solemn look to him; face hardened with faint frown lines that seemed a bit unfitting for his age. The only resemblance these two shared was the striking allure of hazeled eyes and how they were both able to have people lost in them without even trying. There was an energy that radiated from him—something about his presence that you felt a pull towards. It wasn’t intimidating, or brooding, no. It was more on the lines of intoxicating. And it didn’t necessarily make you uncomfortable, per se, but the fact that you couldn’t pinpoint the exact feeling his stare was giving you most definitely did.
It was a known fact that you couldn’t hold eye contact for shit, and an observing Miles easily picked up on that after the third time your eyes had darted back and forth between his own and any random object you could keep your attention on. So, when he finally decided to spare you and directed them towards his chirpy cousin instead, you felt like you could finally breathe again and stole an embarrassingly deep inhale that nearly made you lightheaded.
“So wassup, who’s this?” Miles motioned towards you with a slight tilt of his head, hands nonchalantly planted in the pockets of his jacket.
Now that the focus was off you for a second, you used this to your advantage and took a moment to get a good, close look at him.
Everything about him was clean cut and neat—strategic. From his sharp, tapered hairline that was so precise that not a single strand of hair was out of place, to the tidy twin braids that kissed his shoulders, and even down to his shoes. They were crisp, and looked like he’d taken them right out the box before he came here, but you could tell that wasn’t the case. It was clear from the way he carried himself and the fresh ass silver cuban link hanging round his neck that he simply cared about his appearance enough to keep them that way.
“This,” A subtle, yet intentional squeeze to your right arm brought you back to the conversation. “is Y/n, my bestfriend. I don’t think she’s met you yet, so I just thought I’d introduce the two of you.”
He didn’t even nod. You weren’t even sure if he blinked. All he gave was a vague,
“Mm.”
What the fuck did that mean? Was that a good mm, or a bad mm?
Your ruminating was interrupted when Camila quietly murmured something to Miles that you couldn’t quite make out, her eyes hard in warning.
“Sé amable y no hagas nada estúpido. De verdad.” (Be nice and don’t do anything stupid. For real.)
He kissed his teeth at that, an indistinct irritation lingering in his tone at the latent reprimanding. “Nunca hago nada estúpido.” (I never do anything stupid.)
Brows bunched in confusion, your lashes fluttered in annoyance upon realizing it was their intent to keep you out of the brief exchange.
“Well,” Camila clapped her hands. “I’ll leave y’all kids to it! I need to go grab some of those pinchos before they’re all gone.” Both you and Miles sent an irked look her way when she gave a cheesy thumbs up and dipped.
It was just the two of you now, and since names were already out of the way, you hadn’t the slightest idea of where to start. But the worry didn’t last long; Miles was the first to speak up, which you were more than grateful for.
“So, how you know my cousin again?” His brow peaked. “Don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
Miles was good with faces—excellent, actually. He spent a lot of time people watching; knew most of Brooklyn by now, and he definitely wouldn’t have forgotten a face like yours. So he let his eyes drink you in from head to toe, committing you to memory. And damn, he sure picked a good day to be social.
You tried to focus on your answer instead of the glint of his earrings or the sharp of his jaw when his head turned to the side, so you settled on studying the buildings that lined the magenta-stained skyline in the distance.
“Well, there’s not much to it, really. I met her in the second grade, and she said we were bestfriends now, no questions asked. Guess it’s been that way ever since.” you shrugged.
“Yeah, sounds like her," he chuckled, shifting to rest both his elbows on the ledge as his back leaned against it. “She can be a little—“
“Persistent?” you interjected knowingly, a small smile painting your features.
“Shit, you tellin’ me," he snorted. “I guess that’s a nicer way to put it.”
Miles picked his cup up from where he’d previously set it down and took a swig. So far, this conversation wasn’t nearly as grueling as he’d expected it to be, and shockingly enough, he might’ve even been enjoying your company.
But unknown to you, this wasn’t the first time Miles had been introduced to one of Camila’s friends. He’d met probably three of them at this point, and honestly, he was a little over his cousin trying to throw him a bone he didn’t ask for. Did he entertain them? Possibly, for fun. Though it’s not like he actually enjoyed their presence. But there was something intriguing about you that he didn’t pick up on with the others, and he was starting to wonder what was in this punch.
“Hol’ on,” a curious look crossed his face. “You from Queens, right?”
“Mhm, grew up in the same building as Camila and everything. Why?”
“You’on really sound like it, that’s all.” he noted. Poking at the inside of your cheek with your tongue, you battled with an answer.
“Yeah, I… go back and forth, a lot.” You gave a half-hearted smile, in which he responded to with a simple nod.
Your brows furrowed as a sudden realization dawned on you.
“Y’know, now that I think about it... I don’t think I’ve ever seen you, either. You don’t come around often, do you?”
“Mm,” His lips pushed into an upturned frown—that thing people usually did when someone wasn’t far from being correct. He gave a shadowy answer and changed the subject.
“You could say that. Camila’s brought you to one of these before, I’m guessing?”
“Mm-hm, all the time.” You nodded, swirling around the fizzy liquid in your cup. “I usually chill with the elders, though.”
“Heard that.” Miles understood you completely, the corner of his mouth lifting into a lopsided smile.
Now that you’d had the chance to actually speak with him, he wasn’t nearly as aloof as you’d presumed him to be.
“This your mom’s party?”
“Yes ma'am." he hummed.
You took a quick breath in through your nostrils, and Miles almost laughed at how much one word affected you.
"So..." Your eyes cautiously dragged their way over to him. “Why aren’t you celebrating with everyone else?”
Your tone was careful. Like you already knew your question was personal.
His jaw tensed for a beat and his smile dimmed a little, but he was shrugging and back to his coolheaded mien before you could make any inferences on how your question might’ve made him feel.
“Just like bein’ by my lonely, I guess. Better this way.”
Every human on this earth had a trait that irritated someone or made themselves slightly less favorable, and this was yours. Asking intimate questions too soon, unintentionally trying to uproot information about someone’s life through the innocent curiosity that usually got you into trouble.
“S’ain’t really my kind of vibe anyway." he admitted with a flippant gesture toward the party.
You mindlessly fiddled with the charm bracelet dangling from your wrist.
“And what’s your ‘kind of vibe?’”
It was a genuine question. Honest. You knew his confession came in passing, yet that didn’t deter you from wondering what he was thinking when he said it.
Miles’ aureate gaze floated to your person, and you watched as he studied your features. Eyes flitting between the both of yours, as if he were trying to get a read on you without having to ask.
You relaxed a little when he finally cracked a mirth-kissed grin.
“You just full of questions, huh?” he teased, a glint in his eye.
Somewhere in the midst of this conversation, his body had turned towards yours, and you hadn’t noticed until now that he was facing you completely. You looked to him with the same intensity he gave you and played right back.
“You could say that.”
There were a few seconds of internal struggle, seen in the way he fought to pull his gaze away. Teeth biting at the inside of his cheek like he needed a taste of pain to remind him to behave. But, when he caught sight of the way you were looking at him, that little voice in the deep of his mind wasn’t nearly loud enough for him to listen to it.
Licking at his dry lips, he knew better, but he asked anyway with an appetent tilt of his head.
“You wanna get outta here?”
Now how did you end up here?
Party forgotten like an old toy on Christmas morning. A newfound agenda on your mind and a new pair of lips on yours to match.
You knew good and well that the question he asked didn’t entail stepping away from the party to get a breath of clean air; in fact, you were finding it quite difficult to breathe right about now.
Huh, and here you thought he was a gentleman.
And Miles was fully aware that this was probably a bad idea, but when he wanted something, it was as if tunnel vision clouded any chance of better judgement.
Every human on this earth had a trait that irritated someone or made them slightly less favorable, and Miles was not excluded from this verity.
Starting things he knew he wouldn’t finish, was his.
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cleo30300 · 9 months ago
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sneak peek :333
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