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liyawritesss · 1 year ago

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ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ!ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴀʟᴇꜱ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

Characters: College!Spider-Verse!Miles Morales

Type: headcanons

Synopsis: What would it be like to hold the heart of Brooklyn’s very own Spiderman? Is it an exhilarating tale for the ages, or do things crash and burn before the romance even begins?

Warnings: Some cursing but that’s about it

A/N: Think of this as a part 2 to my original college!miles morales headcanons. Very sweet and cute, with Miles being a dork even in his young adult years.

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22 @briology @honeybleed

As said previously in my general college!miles headcanons, I doubt that he’s that invested in dating and pursuing a love life while at school in jersey. So I feel like it’s likely he’ll meet his partner when he travels back home for vacations, weekend trips, etc, as its somewhere he feels more at ease to be himself.

I like the idea of Miles bumping into the attractive person at the Lenny’s Bodega he normally buys his Jamaican Beef Patties from, in a very cheesy and cliche situation where there’s only one left in stock when the both of you reach for it….and Miles being the gentleman he is, would let you have it (also bc there’s a massive fight happening outside and he’s got a suit up real quick, but you don’t question just how frantic he is when leaving the store)

After that Miles tries his hardest to see you again, making up the lamest excuses to head to the corner store. Mama Rio’s out of milk? He’s already bolting out the door. Catching up with dad while he’s on patrol and Jeff mentions he’s a tiny bit hungry? No problem Pops, I got it. And lord knows that boy do not need to go on that many ‘snack runs’ with how skinny and lanky he is, cuz he not gaining nothin’

Though at some point he does run into you again, and he’s able to engage a conversation by the fact that there’s more beef patties in stock so both of you guys can get one. It’s a cheesy joke but it works, cuz when you laugh a little it gives him a major confidence boost

Of course, Mama Rio peeps that somethings up with her son when he comes home with an extra pep in his step. But just because he’s an adult now doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have grounds to tease him. “Did you meet someone today? A girl? Or….. a guy?” She absolutely lives for seeing her son happy and giddy.

It starts just as casual texting, sending tiktoks back and forth and sending casual check-ins. Over time it evolves into meetups, hangouts, facetime calls. And originally Miles is just like “they’re attractive and cool asf” and is perfectly fine with a friendship. It’s been a long time since he’s had a genuine one (in reference to the events of ATSV), and more than anything, just wants someone he can be real with.

But even he can’t fight the realization that at some point throughout your friendship, his perspective of you shifted from platonic to romantic. Miles started to notice little things about you that would make his heart stall in his chest or his stomach flip around with butterflies. Noticing a new fragrance you’ve bought, or a change in your usual hair style, or being more in tune with your emotions than even you are.

So it begs to question; when would Miles say anything about his budding feelings? Well…he probably won’t say much of anything at first. If anything he tries to bury them because he doesn’t wanna ruin the one good friendship he’s been able to maintain since he was a teen. But his changes in behavior don’t go unnoticed by you, and for a while, the two of you walk this thin line of “will they-wont they” until you ultimately bring the conversation up

You go on a couple of dates, have a couple of conversations about what would be expected in a relationship with the both of you, and with your talks Miles slowly but surely begins to gather the courage he needs to be firm with his desires for you…which comes in the form of a kiss underneath the stars while stargazing on the rooftop of his brownstone building.

In the beginning, he’s still kind of skittish, he doesn’t wanna do anything wrong ruin what you two have, and there’s a lot of reassurance that goes into play during the first few months of you two dating (on both ends, really). But once he’s comfortable and you two are really set in…good luck tryna get rid of him

Clingy clingy clingy clingy clingy- loves cuddles, hugs, kisses- is definitely a “where my hug at” typa nigga, and will immediately get grumpy if you dont give him a greeting kiss. Always has a hand on you, whether it be on your back, in your hand, on your thigh- he just needs to physically feel you to ease his mind sometimes.

He draws portraits of you and leaves them in your bedroom or his to find. He also likes when you give him feedback and praise for his drawings because they make him feel really good about them. He always jokes about how you change your hair so much, it’s hard for him to nail down certain hair types and protective styles that you wear.

When he’s home for summer break, your parents can’t and will never stop you two from sneaking into each other’s rooms through the fire escape. They just expect to come into your rooms and find the two of you cuddled up together, with blankets lazily thrown over your bodies. But it also gives them plenty of pictures to blackmail the both of you with. (Jefferson is notorious for picking on his son for clinging onto you like how he used to cling onto Rio’s arm as a baby when he slept. Miles will never know peace in his own house.)

If you have your own apartment, Rio has to beg this boy to come home, and constantly makes jokes about him moving in with you since he spends so much time at your place anyway.

When he’s away at school, he calls you three times a day - one in the morning so that you two can wake up and get ready together, one in the afternoon when he’s in between classes and while you’re either in between classes or on lunch at your job, and once in the evening so you two can unwind and fall asleep together on the phone for the process to be repeated again.

He likes to speak random sentences in Spanish and watch your face contort in confusion. In the scenario that you don’t know or understand the language, you’ll ask him what he said, but he’s so difficult with it, he lets you beg until you ultimately give up, and whispers it in your ear while giving you a back hug. It turns out to be something cheesy as hell, but you love it either way.

If you do understand/know the language, you look at him like he’s grown two heads and question what it is he’s even saying, because in this scenario he’ll say the most random and out of pocket shit just to annoy you. Though you forgive him in the end because he honestly sounds so good when he’s speaking his mother’s tongue.

Dating Miles also means sharing him with Brooklyn, and subsequently New York in general, when it comes to his Spiderman duties. If you can hold him down even though he can’t guarantee being a constant presence for you, you’ll make him fall harder than he originally had. If you love him unconditionally, even if the nights where he comes to you, battered, bruised and exhausted; even when he has to cancel dates or disappear in the middle of a phone conversation; or there are certain things he can’t tell you because of his superhero occupation - the one thing Miles will always promise you is that he’ll come back to you every single time. And that's more than enough for the both of you.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

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burntsaltsblog · 2 months ago

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tw: nsfw, mdni

Chapter Seven

Two weeks later

Sex, food, and sleep. That was all Butcher and I participated in. Rarely did we leave the bed, except for a daily shower, which Butcher insisted we take together. Though I was never one to complain, especially when he held me firm against the shower wall with my legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked me hard and fast.

"Good girl. Such a good girl for me," he'd praise as I lost control in his arms, gushing all over his length the second he told me to. In the past, I had been vehemently against taking directions from anyone. But, as soon as Butcher looked at me with his deep, hazel eyes, asking me if I wanted "Daddy to take care of me," I was putty in his hands, yearning to obey his every command.

Every night, we'd hear from MM, Hughie, Frenchie, and Kimiko, stating that they were ok and out of harms way. MM and Hughie had crossed the border into Ontario unscathed, except for Hughie's tragic fall, which I still found hilarious, and Frenchie and Kimiko had driven to New Jersey. Apparently, Kimiko had discovered the reality show, The Real Housewives of New Jersey and had begged Frenchie to take her to the state where it all takes place.

Butcher and I assured the rest of the group that we were safe as well, living as Ed's only guests in his small inn. And since we were his only tenants, Ed had taken the opportunity to show off his baking skills, making us anything from chocolate scones to apple tarts. According to Ed, he had learned it all from his late wife, Edna, and found comfort in recreating her original recipes.

Butcher wasn't one to coo over sweet stories from Ed's fifty-year marriage, but the baked treats kept him satisfied and uncharacteristically docile compared to his usual irritated personality.

"How much longer do we have to lay low?" I inquired on a Monday night during our third week at the inn. "I'm getting restless; I want to go see the town and walk around."

"Oi, Have I not been keepin’ ya’ busy?" Butcher asked, mildly insulted as he tore his eyes from the small TV in Ed's quaint living room on the first floor. We were watching reruns of old noir films, cuddled up on a pink settee.

My cheeks heated as I nestled further into his side, leaning my head on his shoulder. "No, you've done an excellent job at that...but I'm feeling a bit like a vampire. I miss the sun," I whined.

"Dontcha worry, Ella, you'll see the sun again." Butcher rubbed his hand up and down my arm, keeping me warm as a New Hampshire blizzard blew outside.

"Ella? Who in the hell is Ella? Fuck, I knew you had a side piece.”

"I'm talkin’ about the bird from that vampire show you and Kimiko watch all the bloody time," he replied.

I rolled my eyes as I breathed out a laugh. "You mean Elena? And the show is called The Vampire Diaries, for your information."

"Eh, Ella sounds better," Butcher shrugged.

I turned to him, a bemused look on my face. "Oh, really? Do you wish my name was Ella? No wonder you rarely call me by my name. You don't even like it."

"Come now, love. I see what you're doin’, tryin’ to get me all riled up. Well, it ain't gonna work unless ya’ want a very long trip over my knee."

I couldn't stop the way my legs rubbed together, seeking friction after hearing Butcher's threat. He'd already had me twice that day. But what can I say? I suppose Butcher was right, and I was insatiable.

"Sorry, Daddy," I said, pawing at his chest as I stared at him doe-eyed.

"That's it," he grumbled, standing from the small sofa and dragging me with him. "You asked for it, doll. Good luck sittin’ tomorrow."

I giggled in anticipation as we began to exit the living room, but Ed appeared in the doorway, halting us in our tracks.

"Oh, I was worried you folks had retired for the night. I just finished this fresh batch of brownies, and I simply could not wait for you to try them," Ed beamed, holding a tray chock full of chocolate squares with steam rising from them to prove they had just left the oven.

"Uh, sure. Of course. Sounds lovely, Ed. You're so generous, always offering us your wonderful sweets," I said kindly as Butcher and I retraced our steps back to the settee. Butcher discretely slipped a pillow into his lap to hide the tent forming in his pants.

"One for you, Mr. Butcher, and one for you, Mrs. Butcher," Ed said, extending the tray in front of us so we could each select a brownie. I still wasn't used to being called Mrs. Butcher, and I made sure to turn my head so Butcher wouldn't see how flustered I got.

"I'll tell ya’, Ed. If you keep feedin’ us like this, the misses and I will have to wrap up the honeymoon. I'm afraid she'll divorce me if I go up another size in me trousers." Butcher joked before stuffing half of the chocolate treat into his mouth.

Ed tittered," Speaking of the honeymoon, you all never told me about the wedding. Or how you met, for that matter. I'm sure it's a beautiful story."

I looked at Butcher to take the lead. We hadn't planned out a story ahead of time, so I was waiting to see what improvisation he had up his sleeve.

"Well, gov, where should we start?" Butcher asked, having already finished his dessert when I hadn't even taken a bite of mine yet.

Ed thought for a moment before his face brightened. "The engagement! Oh, tell me about the engagement. How did you propose, Mr. Butcher?"

I stayed watching Butcher as he brushed excess brownie crumbs from his lap and began to speak.

"Well, my girl here loves to see those Broadway shows. So, on the night of our second anniversary, we drove into the city to see her favorite one. What was the name of the play again, love?"

Realizing it was my turn to take the reigns, I sat up straighter, looking at Ed. "Phantom of the Opera. I always thought the show was so romantic, and Billy here definitely took advantage of that."

"That's for sure," Butcher chuckled, placing a hand on my thigh and rubbing it affectionately. "After the show, I took her to The Plaza for drinks. Then, I led her to one of their balconies, where I had hundreds of red roses set up. It was there on that balcony, under the moonlight, that I got down on me knee and asked her to be my wife."

"I didn't even give him a chance to finish the question before I was screaming, 'Yes! Yes!' over and over again," I laughed. "There was no need to think it through. I knew he was the one the moment I met him."

"Isn't that just precious," Ed declared, looking between the both of us with a wide smile. "I know two soulmates when I see them, and there's no doubt that you both were fated to be together."

"I certainly think so," I mumbled as Butcher and my eyes met. We gazed at each other as thick tension bloomed between us. If it weren't for Ed's constant feedback, I would've forgotten he was in the room with us.

A faint ding from the kitchen broke the bubble around Butcher and me, and he casually cleared his throat as I focused on eating my dessert.

"Oh, that's the oven timer!" Ed exclaimed, jumping up from his lazy-boy recliner. "That means my second batch of brownies is done."

"As it so happens," Butcher stood, stretching his arms. "Me and the misses outta turn in for the night."

"Of course, of course. You folks have a lovely evening, and like always, don't hesitate to come find me if you need anything at all."

Butcher and I nodded our thanks and watched Ed scurry from the room on a mission to rescue his brownies from burning in the oven.

"He's adorable," I commented as Butcher followed me up the short flight of stairs to the second floor. "I'm going to feel bad when we leave. He's going to be all alone."

"Dontcha worry, doll. He'll have other guests," Butcher assured me, holding our bedroom door open as I waltzed past him over the threshold.

I hummed faintly, thinking of poor, soon-to-be lonely Ed as I stripped off my clothes and readied myself for bed. A quiet settled over the both of us as I rummaged through Butcher's drawer in the dresser, looking for a shirt of his to steal.

When I turned towards the bed, donned in a dark blue Hawaiian shirt decorated with tall palm trees, I caught the man himself, standing on the other side of the bed, lost in thought.

"Everything alright?" I asked, pulling the covers on the bed back in order to dive under them.

"Yeah, darlin’. S’all good," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his shirt, letting it drape over the back of the desk chair.

"You sure?" I pressed as gently as I could. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I mean, if this relationship is going to work, we need to be able to communicate comfortably with each other. So, if there's something on your mind," I painted on a small smile of encouragement. "I'm all ears."

Butcher regarded me for a moment before turning around, and I surveyed the tension cascading down his back.

Concerned, I abandoned the bedding and circled the bed, coming to stand in front of Butcher.

"Don't hide from me," I whispered, "Please, Billy."

Butcher wrapped his arms around my back to pull me close, and I leaned into his chest and pressed a kiss over his heart, wanting to stop it from beating so erratically. He sighed at the affection and rested his cheek against the top of my head.

He didn't speak, so I took his lead and remained silent as well. If this was the comfort Butcher needed at the moment, then damnit I wasn't moving from this spot until my legs gave out.

Eventually, my eyes drifted close as I relaxed in Butcher's hold. I had come very close to falling asleep standing up when he finally spoke. I didn't know how long we had been standing there in each other's arms, but I disregarded that thought as I focused on Butcher's words, which were barely loud enough for me to hear.

"I stopped wearing me ring around my neck.”

He didn't continue after that, and I wondered if he was waiting for me to acknowledge his statement.

"Oh," I mumbled, my mouth muffled by his chest.

I didn't want to hinder the rest of his confession if there was anything left of it, that is, so I all but held my breath. It was like walking on eggshells, but even the toughest of men sometimes needed to be handled delicately.

"I took it off the night we got here after ya’ fell asleep. Didn’t think it was right to ask ya’ to be my girl when I was wearin’ it."

"Oh," I said again, feeling terribly lost for words.

"I don't-" Butcher hesitated. "I don't even know why I was wearin’ it. For safekeepin’, I suppose. But what was I keepin’ it safe for?"

"Do you ever wonder?" I asked cautiously, pulling back from Butcher's hold to look up at him. "If she'll come back? The police never found a body. Maybe, subconsciously or something, you were holding onto it in case she ever returned."

"She ain’t comin’ back, petal," Butcher whispered, stroking my cheek. "But it's ok. I've moved on. That's why I got rid of the bloody scrap of metal. How can I focus on the future if I'm still holdin’ onto the past?"

I nodded, contemplating what Butcher said as I bit the inside of my cheek. I wanted to ask if, in the extraordinary event that Becca came back from the presumed dead, Butcher would put his ring back on. They were married for eight years, almost a decade, for goodness sake. Why would he throw all that away for someone like me, who he's been in a relationship with for two goddamn weeks?

But I didn't want to beat a dead horse, and I had a feeling that that's I would be doing should I voice my concern. Butcher cared for me too much to admit that he'd leave me for his reincarnated wife.

"But speakin’ of movin’ on," Butcher stated, pulling me from my rambling thoughts. "I want ya’ to be the one I move on with."

"What do you mean?" I cocked my head. Isn't that what was already happening since he'd asked me to be in an established relationship?

"Well, I guess all that talk down there with Ed tonight got me thinkin’ about things. About us. About our future."

"Our future?"

"Yeah."

"What would a future for us look like?" I ran a hand down his bare chest.

"Well, after we kill every evil supe cunt that's ever walked this bleedin’ earth, I thought we could get married."

Butcher peered at me intently to gauge my reaction as he broke the barrier on the subject of marriage.

I rolled my lips together as my eyes nervously found his. "You're not like proposing now, are you? Because I've got to say, you really set the bar high with that bullshit proposal story you told Ed down there."

Butcher chuckled, "No, darlin’, m’not proposin’. What kind of a wanker proposes without a ring? All I'm sayin’ is that after all this shite is over, I want us to be together. Long haul and all that."

The side of my mouth curved up as I listened to Butcher describe his dreams.

"We could buy a nice fuck off house in the country somewhere, you know? So we can finally get some peace, and you can go outside and see the sun whenever ya’ like,” Butcher continued.

"And, if you're up for it, we could start a family."

I had to work hard at swallowing the lump in my throat as Butcher's hand came to rest on my lower stomach, both of us imagining what a little bump would look like there—proof of our devotion to each other.

"Billy," I croaked as my eyes burned with unshed tears.

"Ya’ don't gotta say anythin’ right now, love. I don't wantcha to feel pressured into-"

"No," I interrupted. "No, I want that, Billy. I want all of it. Everything you said. I want to marry you and build a home with you."

I placed my hand over Butcher's, which was still on my belly. "I want to have a baby with you."

I lost control of my tears, and they fell freely over my cheeks. I saw Butcher's eyes fill with his own emotion, and he swiped my tears away before bringing me in for a kiss.

"I love you," he whispered against my lips, and I inhaled sharply, pressing my mouth harder against his.

The kiss was heated, filled with emotions and confessions that we were finally letting free.

I drew back as I traced my fingers over every beautiful line on Butcher's face. "I love you too. So much."

"Fuck, I don't deserve ya’," Butcher shook his head, now swallowing a lump that was in his own throat. Unable to say anything, he brought his mouth back down to mine, wanting to express his feelings physically if he couldn't do it audibly.

"Want you," I plead as Butcher's mouth traveled down my neck, sucking and nipping to mark me as his. "Need you."

"I'm gonna ruin you," Butcher promised, voice like gravel. "I'm gonna fuckin’ ruin ya’ for every other fucking man."

I had no problem with that, and I jumped, wrapping my legs around his middle, groaning when both his hands groped my ass, kneading the soft flesh.

Butcher threw me down on the bed before unzipping his dark jeans. I followed his lead and unbuttoned my shirt, tossing the clump of fabric to the end of the bed, totally forgotten.

"Take them off," Butcher instructed, pointing a finger toward my white lace panties.

"Yes, Daddy," I obeyed, pushing my hips up to easily slide the underwear over my thighs and down my legs, never breaking eye contact with Butcher the entire time.

"Look attcha, followin’ Daddy's orders," Butcher uttered possesively, leaning over my frame, causing me to lay down on the bed so he could tower over me. "But s’not because you're a good girl, is it? No, it's because you're a needy little whore who's so desperate for Daddy's cock that you'd do absolutely anythin’. That's the truth, ain’t it, doll?"

I gripped the sheets as I felt my core clench around nothing, desperate to be filled to the brim.

"I think I asked ya’ a question, sweetheart," Butcher said, running his hand down my neck before wrapping his long fingers around my throat, physically stating his dominance over me.

"Yes, Daddy, it's the truth," I mewled, beginning to pant as if I were a bitch in heat, preening to be fucked.

"And what truth is that?" Butcher pressed, applying pressure to my neck, cutting off the blood flow to my brain. My head grew fuzzy, and a dopy smile covered my face as I gave Butcher the answer he was waiting for.

"I'm a needy little whore who's desperate for your cock, Daddy."

"Fuckin’ look at ya’.” Butcher observed my body. "I bet you'd let me do anythin’ to you, huh? Just Daddy's little toy who he can fuck however he wants."

I wrapped my legs around Butcher's waist and ground up into the hard-on he was sporting through his boxers.

"Did I say you could do that, princess?" Butcher reached around to smack the side of my thigh. The lasting sting caused me to moan, pressing harder against his covered shaft and relishing in the friction against my throbbing clit.

"Can't wait," I whined, blinking up at him helplessly. I was beyond the point of being embarrassed at how pathetic I looked.

"God, you really are a slut. I can feel ya’ makin’ a mess all over me fuckin’ boxers. Eh, drop your legs," Butcher slapped my leg again and I reluctantly let them fall against the mattress, but that didn't stop my hips from lifting off of the bed to find something to hump like a desperate pup.

Butcher slipped his boxers off and threw them somewhere behind him, not caring where they ended up, and wrapped a hand around his length, veins bulging and weighty balls hanging below.

"Show me your pretty cunt, sweetheart," Butcher said, and he barely got his request out before I spread my legs for me, pushing my sopping pussy up toward his face.

Butcher dragged his red tip that was already leaking pre-cum through my folds, and a broken sob left my mouth. "Please don't tease me."

Butcher repeated the same action until real tears began dripping down my face. "I'm serious, Butcher. Please, I can't fucking take it."

Butcher glared at me before grabbing my hips harshly and slamming his cock into my cunt. I gasped at the sudden intrusion and braced my hands on his shoulders to steady myself.

"That's not my fuckin’ name, doll," Butcher whispered darkly in my ear as he began to fuck me harshly.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry," I all but yelled as I hung on tight as Butcher rammed into me unrelentingly.

I reached down to circle my clit, and as a result, squeezed Butcher's length, letting him know that I was going to finish sooner than expected.

"Fuck, you're already close? My girl is more pathetic than I thought," Butcher chuckled.

I could barely process the shame from getting off on being so degraded due to Butcher slapping my hand away so he could work my clit himself.

"Are you gonna come, sweet girl? Cuz I'm gonna come too. And ya’ know what?" Butcher leaned his head down to whisper in my ear again. "I'm not gonna pull out."

My head slammed back against the pillow as my eyes screwed shut.

"I'm gonna come so fuckin’ deep in this cunt that you'll never question who ya’ belong to. You are mine. My girl. My wife. The mother of my children-"

Butcher's hips stuttered, and I felt hot ropes of his cum coat my walls.

My mouth opened wide in a silent scream as I pulsed around his cock, my slick streaming onto the bed sheets as I came, almost violently.

My body was covered in pins and needles as Butcher took deep breaths while coaching me on how to do the same.

"Breath for my, sweetheart," Butcher encouraged, rubbing a hand over my stomach.

"That's it," he said in approval when I took a full breath, filling my lungs with much-needed oxygen. "Good girl. Doin’ such a good job for me."

Butcher waited a couple of minutes before pulling his softening length out. Then, he climbed off the bed and pulled his boxers back on.

"Stay right there, doll. I'll be back in a jiffy." Butcher kissed me on the forehead, and I mumbled unintentionally in response.

He walked into the bathroom, and I heard the sink begin to run.

I didn't have to wait long before Butcher returned with a damp washcloth in hand. He knelt at the foot of the bed and pulled my legs apart, all sexual intentions gone, only the idea of aftercare on his mind.

The warm cloth against my skin was healing, and I felt a fatigue take over my body.

"I'm sleepy," I mumbled.

"Good. That means I wore ya’ out," Butcher teased, standing to take the used washcloth back into the bathroom.

I sat up and retrieved Butcher's shirt, slipping it back over my tired body, yawning as I did so.

When Butcher appeared again, he ducked under the sheets. I didn't hesitate to nestle up to his side, and I made a soft sound of contentment when he pulled me onto his chest.

My ear rested over his heart, and I smiled when I felt it beat slow and steady, unlike how it raced earlier. I was happy to know Butcher was at ease and void of his previous anxiety. And if I had something to do with that, well, I guess that would explain the butterflies tumbling in my stomach.

Butcher ran a hand through my hair, twirling the strands and lightly scratching my scalp as he attempted to lull me into a soothing slumber.

I was almost asleep when a bang rang out downstairs, and as a complete parallel to our first morning here, Butcher and I shot up in bed, gazing at each other, alarmed.

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