#Miles g

[canigirl]

people are always like “miles’ canon event is his uncle dying/his dad dying” cmon now. everyone knows that miles’ real canon event is getting a dope ass pair of jordan 1s

that mf knows how to put that shit on!!!!!

[milimeters-morales]

btsv plotpoint was revealed to me in a dream .

[itssluv]

Seeing multiple black spider characters WARMS MY SOULLL LIKE??

JESSICA WITH AN AFRO AND HOOPS??

MILES WITH THE C L E A N FADE AND HE GOT SHOE GAMEE???

HOBIE WITH WICKS AND HES ALTERNATIVE?? like he literally reminds me of my friends back home and I love that so so much

Representations does WONDERS yall

[shokuto]

[all444miles]

— JERSEY LUV PT.2

— pairing: e42!miles x blackcoded!fem!reader — genre: suggestive but fluff — summary: attractive things Miles does that makes you fold. — a/n: TY YALL FOR 500 OMG N HAPPY LATE BDAY TO MY MAN + WE BACK W A PT TWOOOO, i folded js as hard w this one so i hope yall do too!! i do have those two fics comin in, im js posting this to keep yall entertained! mwah, enjoy !!

part 1 part 3 !

MILES MORALES that's gets mad jealous, like, maddd jealous. When he's with others, he'll always call you "my girl" so that they know you're his girlfriend. He wont hesitate to kiss you in front of smb that thinks they have a chance. p.s, they don't.

MILES MORALES that cuddles for hours and won't let you leave unless your practically dying to go to the bathroom. If you try, he'll just hold you tighter.

"Nah amor, you gon stay right here." "Miles, I-" Nuh uh."

MILES MORALES who always has you sat on his lap. he's playing games? you on his lap. y'all talking? you on his lap. y'all making out? oh, you are most definitely on his lap.

speaking of making out..

MILES MORALES who has his hands all over you when you make out. there's no place it stays, your face, your neck, your hips, waist, thighs, its always there.

MILES MORALES who likes (and you do too) to have music play while yall kiss. summer walker, kehlani, he does not care. as long as its in your playlist and its slow, he's playing it.

MILES MORALES who invites you to go the gym with him. it dont matter if you actually work out or not, he just asks so he can have you there and watch him work out. he aint gon admit it though.

"ma! im bouta go to the gym, come wit me." "baby, you know ion work out." "ian ask if you wanted to. i just want you to be with me, so come onn." "you just want me to watch you, huh?" "..mami, im not bouta ask you twice, come with me."

MILES MORALES that will happily let you borrow his clothes, there's not even much of a point of trying to steal them because he's already handed them to you.

MILES MORALES who dances bachata with you in private. he's not too much of a public dancer, but when you to are in private, it's a whole different story.

MILES MORALES who will listen to you talk about anything becuase he adores your voice with all his heart. If it's something you like, he'll buy it for you, just as a reminder than he listens.

"Go on ma, keep talking to me, I'm all ears."

MILES MORALES who grabs your waist instead of saying excuse me because he knows you like it.

MILES MORALES who has most definitely graffitied a place with both y'alls initials on it.

"awwee, my man breaking the law for me." "you like it?" "love it."

tags: @seraaphicss @laaailuh @mayeluvsu @iwannagohomesaystamaki @onginlove @sheluvv-jen @laylasbunbunny @missusmorales @thatgirlmiah @paraccosm @tinkerbelle05 @fictarian @zalayni @m4rihrts @whitejxsmine @444morales @writings-ofthe-heart

© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

[kombuuuu]

Can you write Miles 42 where you do that one TikTok prank on him where someone keeps texting you and he gets mad and stuff and tries to look at your phone 😭

Give me the Phone.

E42!Miles x Fem!Reader

“Not gon’ say nothin’, chiquita?”

i’m gonna be real i have no clue what that trend is but the idea was adorbs 🤭

The decision to mess with him, in hindsight, may have been stupid.

But you just couldn’t help it.

So you hit record, and your friend, Anita, started bombarding you with texts, in on the bit.

It was so fun just to toy with him every now and then, get him riled up. A little angry, it was all in good fun. So it didn’t really matter in the long run, he always forgave you.

And the way he would eye you from across the room, as you giggled and smiled at your phone—.

Was pretty much worth it.

He was unable to do anything about it though, with everyone else around. Of course, you’d decided to mess with him in front of his family. When you couldn’t be called out.

His Mom and Uncle were barely two feet away from him, talking amongst themselves and occasionally addressing someone else at the inconveniently timed family gathering.

He watched you snort again as you glanced at the message, quickly smirking at the mystery-person’s notif.

No one is so eager to text with a friend. No one giggles and smiles when talking through text.

You don’t giggle at texts.

Miles leans back from his seat on the couch opposite to you, coffee table between the two of you. He drapes a hand over his knee and watches as your eyes trail him up.

He tips his head back and sighs, glaring at you from under his eyelashes. Your posture straightens and you eye his Adams apple before your screen flashes again, and your attention is gone.

This goes on for around another eight minutes before he loses his mind. He groans, checking the faces around you both to see no one in his belated family paying either of you attention.

Slowly, he gets up. Stretching to his full height and glowering down at you. You glance up at him innocently, another small smirk settled on your lips and he huffs a quick breath.

Miles rolls the joints in his neck and you can’t help but observe the way his tense posture makes him look ever-more menacing. A jolt of attraction shocking your spine.

The way his smirk curved his soft lips up,how his sunken eyes glowed threateningly on an up-cast light.

“C’mon, Mami.”

“Hmm?”

“Get up.”

He side stepped the table, being close to you now, his height towering over you from your sat position.

You sheltered the phone screen, making sure he couldn’t see you record.

“I’m busy—,”

“Now, Chiquita.”

“You can’t make me.”

The way you pouted up at him drove him mad, your eyebrows furrowing in defiance and your tone lifting.

"Bueno, entonces hagamos la cuenta regresiva."

You rolled your eyes, “Oh my god Miles! I’m not a kid.” You placed your phone face down beside you on the couch. He hummed.

Lowly, under his breath he spoke, “Three.”

“Fuck—, whatever fine. I’m up.” You roll your eyes, and push yourself up, grabbing your phone as you went.

“Talk t’me like a damn child.”

“‘S cause ya’ actin’ like a damn child.”

“Am not.”

He paused, dropping his face deadpan, and you snorted at the irony.

“See?”

“Whatever, loser. You’re just jealous i’m more fun.”

“Not what I’m jealous about.”

He slipped his palm over yours, linking your fingers with his. A few of his family members glanced your way, and you shifted in embarrassment before they looked away, paying you no mind.

Miles dragged you along with him, politely excusing himself, and you, from people who approached and made his way to his room. You following begrudgingly behind him.

He opened the door with a grip too tight, swung it open and clambered you both inside, before letting go of your hand and slowly shutting the door behind you both. Placing the key in the lock, twisting but not taking it out.

Never the type of man to trap you, or intimidate — you kind of felt bad for messing with him.

His back still to you, you let your knees hit the bed before sitting on the ledge, hands folded neatly in your lap and phone under them, shielding the screen.

Miles cracked his neck, muscles going taught before relaxing again as he turned. Eyes catching your own with a certain glee in them that felt more challenging than happy.

“Wanna ‘xplain yourself, mami?”

You huffed, only watching and pouting as he approached. Crossing your arms over your chest, and griping your forearms.

Unknowingly leaving your phone vulnerable to the man now much closer to you, just like before. Except now there wasn’t anyone stopping him from fucking with you.

“Not gon’ say nothin’, chiquita?”

Your phone buzzed.

You bit your lip and evaded smiling, smugness coming from the small win.

“Mm.” The low rumble of his voice made your eye flick back to his face, curiosity lacing your features for a spilt moment before you schooled them.

While unfocused on anything but his face, he took the opportunity to swipe your phone right from your lap, reflexes much quicker than yours.

“Hh—, Wait—!“ Your hand outstretched to try and catch the phone from his grip, but he was quicker. Holding the phone up high and placing his other hand over your shoulder so you couldn’t stand to grab it.

“Who the fuck—,” He flipped the screen toward himself, and when all he saw was your camera app open, recording for 13 minutes, and a notification from Anita, his smirk raised. One only of disbelief.

“You kiddin’?”

The camera was fixed on your sat body, and he stopped the recording, clicking Anita’s name and watching the texts appear.

You still there?

Did he find out LMAO

BROOO ARE U GETTING UR ASS BEAT LMFAOAOA

i’ll beat his ass tho fr, fight for u bbg 🫶

sorry in advance pumpkin 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

tiktoks gonna luv this

“Anita.”

He let his gaze fall on you, amusement and annoyance dancing with his emotions.

“No..” You pouted, dragging your hands back to your laps and smiling sheepishly.

“Oh my fuckin’ god, [Name].”

“It’s a prank?” Even you sounded unsure.

He snorted and glared at you, pushing you back until your back hit the bed.

“You wan’ make a tiktok? We don’ make one.”

“Wha—“

You heard the record button play before you could speak, and felt your instincts kick in a second too late bfore a pillow hit your face. You spluttered—

—Before clambering up the bed to get a pillow too.

“Oh, Fuck you!”

“Nah, Mami, wrecked your chances.”

You grabbed a pillow and swung back behind you, hitting him square in the face before he snatched it off you with a playfully pissed expression. One hand still holding the phone towards you.

You smirked at him and flipped the camera off. “Eat shit, loser.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ regret that.”

You squealed and laughed, trying to grab another pillow in time before your ankle was grabbed and dragged down the bed, your laughter following.

You did in fact, regret it.

—

+BONUS!!!

“How’s it feel to fuckin’ lose?”

Miles grinned behind the camera, braids loosened slightly due to the tussling between you two—,

“Die.”

He laughed and ended the recording.

“Y’know I love you?”

You pouted, resisting the need in your fluttering heart to smile up at him.

“Yeah, yeah— whatever, big boy.”

“Good, cause i’m posting that.”

“Morales!”

—

DONE!!! HOPE I DIDNT BUTCHER IT :3

[xxoxobree]

I Luv Your Girl

Miles G. x Black Fem Reader.

Summary: Miles Being Mr.Stealyourgirl.

WARNINGS: None 😘

Miles walked into school, his head bobbing to the music that flooded his ears through his headphones. He made his way through the busy halls of Visions toward his locker. He got the occasional "hey" from friends that passed by, and he dapped some of them up.

Finally, he reached his locker, letting out a sigh. He took off his headphones and opened the locker. One by one, he stuffed the books he didn't need into the cramped space, mentally preparing himself for the day ahead.

Just as he was engaged in his task, a familiar voice interrupted him.

"Yo, waddup?" Miles turned to his left and saw Ganke walking toward him, leaning nonchalantly on the nearby lockers. A smile spread across Miles' face as he greeted his friend and they went through their intricate handshake.

“Wassup with you bro?”

Laughter erupted from nearby, catching Miles' attention. His eyes followed the sound, and there you were.

Miles felt a weird sensation in his chest as he continued to gaze at you from across the hallway. A feeling he couldn't quite put into words. But before he could fully grasp it, his attention was diverted by the sight of your stupid boyfriend approaching.

His heart sank as he watched your boyfriend plant a peck on your cheek. Miles rolled his eyes,in frustration, as he forcefully slammed his books into his locker, creating a semi-loud band.

"Woah, easy there, Miles," Ganke said, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor. Ganke's eyes flickered towards you, a mischievous smirk forming on his face as he realized the source of Miles' agitation. It was no secret that Miles had a crush on you for as long as he could remember. Living just a few doors down, you two had always had a friendly but distant relationship, and that fact got on every one Miles' nerves.

"You're mad about Y/n?” Ganke teased, a smirk on his face. "Why don't you just tell her you like her?"

Miles let out a nervous laugh, his heart pounding in his chest. "If you can see, Ganke, she's always with that bozo," Miles replied, frustration lacing his voice, as he pointed towards your boyfriend.

As Miles closed his locker, he glanced back at you and couldn't help but smile and wave. His face lit up when you returned the wave, causing his heart to race even faster.

Your boyfriend noticed the exchange and spun around, giving Miles a mean mug. Unfazed and a little amused by your boyfriend's insecurity, Miles rolled his eyes and headed towards his first period.

Sitting in his first period English class, Miles plugged in his headphones and lost himself in the music. As he mindlessly doodled away in his sketchbook, he finally finished a drawing he had been meaning to complete for a while.

Suddenly there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to see a smiling you. Quickly he took off his headphones before speaking.

“Yeah?” He spoke gently.

“Hey Miles, I really like your bracelet.”

Miles looked down at his wrist, the silver paperclip bracelet shining. He quickly unlatched it.

“Here ma, since you like it so much,” he said, handing it to you.

“Miles, no I can’t,” you said, your face filled with surprise.

“Yes, you can,” he said, grabbing your hand and fastening the bracelet to your wrist.

“There, it looks way better on you, pretty girl,” he said, earning a giggle from you that made his heart swell.

“Thank you, Miles,” you cooed, looking into his eyes.

He nodded before returning back to his drawing.

Miles would sneak glances at you throughout the whole class, watching as you would play, spinning the bracelet around your wrist - his bracelet. He was already distracted, not paying attention to a single thing the teacher was saying, but even more so now with his mind thinking a thousand thoughts of you and him, and what could be.

As classes ended, he walked through the halls, just happening to see you proudly showing off the bracelet to your friends. He laughed at your enthusiasm, secretly thrilled that you appreciated his gift. Little did Miles know his little gift would get him closer to what he wanted - you.

Again, he was lost in his thoughts about you, and how he loved your signature pink hair that you would wear in puffs, or the way you would cutely throw your head forward when you laughed. Miles knew he had to find a way to get closer to you.

But then he remembered your stupid boyfriend, who didn't treat you right, and he felt the sting of jealousy rise up in him. In Miles' mind, he didn't deserve you. He believed that you could do better, that you deserved someone better, like him.

Miles couldn't resist the temptation and found himself developing feelings for someone else's girlfriend. He started seeking you out in any classes you had together. He would strategically take the seat next to you instead of his usual spot, hoping to strike up conversations that went beyond the surface to know you better.

Surprisingly, you were just as interested in him. You started sitting with him at lunch, where the two of you would joke and laugh the entire period. Miles found you just as interesting and sweet as he had imagined, and he felt himself falling deeper and deeper for you with each passing day.

As the connection grew, Miles began to question his own actions. He knew it was wrong to pursue someone who was already taken, and guilt weighed on his conscience but not too much.

As your bond grew stronger, the closeness didn't go unnoticed by everyone and soon whispers filled the school.

You boyfriend sat just a few tables away, his anger simmering beneath the surface. He watched you and Miles, his food barely touched, as you two talked, laughed and exchanged subtle touches. The glimmering bracelet on your wrist caught his attention, and it took him a moment to connect the dots – it was Miles' bracelet.

That realization was the final blow for him. The weight of how close your were crashed on him like a ton of bricks. He stood up, his face flushed with a mix of fury and heartbreak, and made his way towards your table. His presence alone silenced both you and Miles.

"Hey, you two. What are we talking about?" he asked, a forced smile on his face as he attempted to kiss you only for you to dodge it.

Miles looked away, biting his lip to stop a wave of laughter that threatened to escape. He couldn't help but be amused by the scene unfolding before him.

"What do you want?" you whispered to your boyfriend, annoyance evident in your voice.

"Come on babe, let's go to another table," he suggested, attempting to coax you away from your current spot.

"No, I'm sitting with my friend," you replied firmly.

"Come on, y/n, I'm not doing this with you.”

"I'm not doing this with you either," you shot back, standing your ground. "Like I said, I'm sitting with my friend. So you can leave."

"Whatever," he mumbled, frustration etched across his face as he got up and returned to his own table.

"Fuck, wrong with him?" you asked, turning to Miles, who had been silently observing the encounter. Your question sending him over the edge making him fold over with laughter.

"You're his girl, ma, maybe you should go sit with him,".

You shook your head. "Nah, I'm staying,"

Miles furrowed his brows, studying you carefully. "You sure?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

Your gaze met his. "Yes, I'm sure, Miles. Fuck that Nigga.”

Miles but his lip chuckling at you. You were his now.

"Well, if it's fuck him,' kiss me," he whispered, a challenge dancing off his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and a small smile adorned your face. Deep down, you knew you wanted it just as much as he did.

"Miles, what?" You replied, curiosity tinged with anticipation.

"You heard me, mami," he said, leaning in closer. "Kiss me right now. In front of everyone. Show him it's 'fuck him.'"

Your eyes flickered between his gaze and his inviting lips. You couldn't resist and started to lean in, your lips crashing together.

The sound of gasps and whispers filled the air as the onlookers turned their attention towards the unexpected kiss. You didn't care; you were too wrapped up in the moment, too wrapped up in Miles.

As you pulled away, laughter bubbled up from within both you and Miles. Your eyes scanned the crowd, and there, you two spotted your now ex-boyfriend, fuming with rage.

Miles turned to your boyfriend mischievous yet sympathetic smile on his face. "Sorry, bro, but I love your girl.”

[ven-finn]

Going to the theatre again tomorrow

[milesmolasses]

nah nah cuz HEAR ME OUTT, that lipstick kiss trend on tiktok with e42!miles and he would usually disagree but he loves when the reader kisses him so he gives in <3 (love your work, btw!!)

kisses for miles (e-42 miles x blk!reader)

— besos para él💋

— ⚠️: reader talkin crazy, use of military time, cursing

y/n: hey lol

mookie 💋: …yes u need sum?

y/n: can u come over please?

mookie 💋: what u tryna get into?

y/n: ur nasty 😒

mookie 💋: dgmt why am I coming over

y/n: baby pleaseeee just come over it’s a surprise

read 18:27

“nah I know he did not..” you said aloud. miles was always talking about not leaving him on read and now he wanna play games?

you swiped up on your phone, leaving the messages app to check Life360. he made sure to leave his location on at all times for you to find him, especially when he was in prowler duty. checking for miles location, you saw he was on the move to your direction.

rolling your eyes, you took a screenshot and sent it to him captioning it, “u coulda just said i’m omw.”

you rolled out of bed and put on some house slippers. before leaving your room, you threw your bonnet off and played around with your hair, putting the braids in a side part. walking to the living room, you heard a knock on the door; mind you, there was only ever one person who knocked on your door.

going straight for the door, you unlocked it so he could enter on his own. walking back to the living room of your house you yelled, “It’s open!”

you heard two clicks from the door, indicating to you that someone had opened and closed it.

“take off your shoe—!”

“I did.”

sitting crisscrossed on the couch, you looked behind you to the front door to find miles dropping his shoes off near the door. he walked over to you and grabbed you by both hands, pulling you up from the couch. still holding your hands in his, and your lips being mear inches apart he said in a low, deep voice, “so why you call me over here?”

you wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled before placing a soft kiss on his lips. “I can’t ask you to come over no more?” you asked, raising both your eyebrows with a small smile.

he reached for your back, tugging on your braids which lifted your head back and left your neck exposed to him. placing small kisses all over your neck, he smiled as he said between kisses, “of course you can esposa, but why so late is what i’m asking.”

“I wanna do something with you,” you said, pulling away from miles lips on your neck. plopping back down to the couch. miles joined you sitting down as you reached for your phone to pull up the video you wanted to show miles. once you found the video, you gave miles your phone and turned up the volume so he could hear it.

it was a video of a girl putting on lipstick, and “accidentally” smearing some of it under her lip. some random hand came and wiped the makeup off her face, and soon the camera panned to where the hand was coming from— a guy with lipstick stains all over his face and a dopey smile coming on screen.

miles re-watched the video again in silence, eyebrow furrowed to watch the video more intently.

“hell no—”

“but miles, please it’s gonna be so cute,” you pleaded grabbing his hand. you were slightly bouncing on the couch, your face decorated with a puppy dog pout. “you don’t even wear lipstick baby. so whatchu gon’ do?” he challenged.

“I can use lipglo—”

“hell no,” miles said again as he laughed. “that shit is sticky and a pain to get off. ion even like you kissing my lips with that on, let alone my face.”

“why don’t you ever wanna do cute couple stuff wimme?” you whined. miles pulled you onto his lap and kissed your lips again.

“what do you mean? we do cute couple shit all the time. I just don’t want gloss all on my face,” he reasoned as your head forehead came in contact with his chest.

miles remembered all the cute things you made him do with you as a couple; matching nails, the two of you baking, the cute arts and crafts you made him do with you— he remembered all of it.

if he was being honest, he enjoyed all the cute things you made him do with you. he would have never even thought of doing half the shit y’all did together, and now, he has a cute fungo pop that looks like you on his windowsill.

“think about how cute it will be; i’ll sit on your lap—just like i am now— and put kisses all over your face. that don’t sound like heaven to you?”

his hands gripped your waist as he slid them a bit under your shirt; he liked skin-to-skin contact with you. he looked at you with his head tilted to the side, like he was contemplating on whether or not to say yes. “aight, how bout this; show me how you’re gonna get that shit off my face when it’s over.”

you smiled as you scrambled off his lap to go to your room. going straight to your vanity, you opened the first drawer and pulled out a makeup bag with all of your supplies, as well as your micellar water and cotton pads. running quickly back to the living room, you found miles with his legs spread widely and his arms sprawled at the top of your couch.

“ew you look like a man,” you said as you approached the couch.

“you better talk to me nice ‘fore I get the hell up outta here—”

“ok ok i’m sorry!”

he smiled at your reaction as you placed yourself back on his lap facing him. placing the water down next to you, and opening the small pouch, you pulled out your red dior lip oil. “alright, so here’s what imma do; i’m gonna swatch some on my arm, and then i’m gonna show you how to take it off.”

opening the lip oil, you removed the wand and held up your arm. running the wand over your skin ripped a hole in your heart, feeling like this was such a waste of such a good product.

“what’s wrong ma?” miles asked as he saw the small pout on your face.

“i’m wasting my shit for this,” you whined looking pouty. miles raised your chin up to look at him and pecked your lips. “i’ll buy you another one ma, it’s all good,” he said.

whenever miles offered to buy you anything, you got a little shy and bashful, telling him he didn’t need to do that for you. however, he always does it anyway and tells you not to worry about it.

with a downturned smile, you averted your eyes from him and said a small, “okay.” turning back to what you were doing, you showed miles the two swatches of gloss on yours arm. picking up the bottle of micellar water, you told him that this is how you were going to take it off.

opening your box of cotton pads, you grabbed one and put some of the water on the pad. whipping off your arm, you showed him it was cleansed of the lip oil.

“see, good as new. that’s gonna be your face soon too,” you giggled. he grabbed your arm and felt where you whipped the oil off. it felt damp, but not sticky. he raised an eyebrow as if convinced and said,

“i’m still not letting you put that shit on my face mami.”

“Miles-uhh!” you said, dragging out his name.

“ay i’m kidding, relax! i’ll let you do your lil trend, aight?” he laughed as he slid his hands further up your shirt, hands caressing your back, and his face leaned into your chest.

“boy don’t play wimme,” you rolled your eyes and pulled his braids back, making him look at you.

“I am not the one.”

he smiled and leaned back into the couch.

“just put on the gloss and kiss me,” he laughed. you opened back up the lip oil and grabbed your phone. swiping left, you opened up the camera app and rubbed your lips with the wand. miles watched your lips intently as his grip on your waist tightened.

“don’t get too excited, i’m only kissing you.”

putting the want back in the tube, and your phone back on the couch, you grabbed miles face and started with a kiss on the cheek. then, a kiss on the chin. and then before you knew it, he had kiss marks all over his face.

you had to re-apply the gloss to your lips a few times, but when you saw miles entire face and neck smothered in remnants of you, you bit your lip and said, “you look sexy like this.”

“focus on the damn video mami,” said sounding annoyed. he obviously didn’t like the feeling of the gloss on his face because he was scrunching his face up every two seconds.

“what, you don’t like my kisses?” you said with a pretend pout.

“of course I do baby, but this feels so nasty on my face,” he said leaning his head back whining a little.

you grabbed your phone off the couch and told him to stop acting like a baby. going to tiktok and opening your favorite sounds, you clicked on the sound and started recording.

as you re-applied the lip gloss to your lips, you “accidentally” smudged the wand below your lips a little.

after miles reached and used his thumb to wipe the gloss off, you turned the camera to show miles with his head leaned back slightly, and kiss marks all over his face.

grabbing you by your neck, he pulled you in for a kiss just before the video ended. he gave you an opened mouth kiss which you happily returned before pulling back with a loopy smile.

“that wasn’t part of the video…” you said, still inches away from him lips.

“I know.”

— lol I got a lil lazy so I don’t really like his this turned out

— I don’t think miles likes ur lipgloss (*´-`)

— however, e-1610 probably would. he would eat this shit up🤭

[hobiebrownismygod]

can you do a fic where 42!miles gets hurt after you two had a big argument and now you have to clean him up while still mad at him?? sorry if this didn't make sense

yess!! This is so cute I love it!! Thx for requesting <3

TW: BLOOD, mention of being hurt/wounds, use of Y/N in place of reader's name, very very slight angst (mostly fluff)

___________

Click

You locked your window and pulled the curtains closed with a huff. Your phone was silenced, your door was locked and you had promised yourself that no matter what, you were ignoring him.

Complete silent treatment.

The two of you had had a pretty big argument (and you could barely even remember how it'd started) so of course, you decided to be petty and pretend he didn't exist.

He always tried to make it up to you when you fought, climbing in through your window late at night, with a bouquet of hand-picked flowers or a movie he rented for the two of you to watch.

He'd be pretty silent about it, pretty nonchalant, and he'd plop down beside you on the bed and hold you. Not a word would be exchanged. And you'd always forgive him.

Not this time though. You were too mad.

So you decided you'd sit down, do your homework, and if you heard a knock at your window you'd simply pretend it never happened.

He could take care of himself.

You weren't going to be his little nurse. Not tonight.

But then of course...you were never one to leave him hanging.

It'd barely been fifteen minutes from when you'd started your homework when you heard a quiet knock at your window. You ignored it.

And then he knocked again. This time, you hesitated. You wanted to open it, you really did...but you didn't. No. You had to stand your ground. You weren't going to give in.

"Y/N" you heard his voice. The tapping on the window got louder, sloppier. "Y/N!" his voice was hoarse, not quiet and playful like usual. It was different.

But you stayed silent. You weren't going to let him in, you promised yourself.

"Y/N, please." You dropped your pencil. His voice was just a whisper now and you could barely hear it outside the locked window. He tapped one more time. "I'm hurt."

You felt chills on your neck and you immediately walked towards the window, pulling the curtains open. There he was, crouching against your balcony. His Prowler mask was on, his gauntlets were hanging off his hands.

And his shirt was soaked in blood.

You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight. He reached his arm up with a pained groan, pulling his mask off. His brow was soaked in sweat, his face glistening slightly in the moonlight. "Please." he mouthed.

Robotically, you pulled open the window. You took his arm and helped him in, and he basically collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily.

You helped him sit up, his back pressed against the wall. You quickly got to work, like you always did when he showed up in pain, grabbing your first-aid kit from underneath your bed and snapping it open quietly.

He winced as you began cleaning his wounds, pulling his shirt up so you could get to where the blood was coming from. He had a slash right across his stomach, blood gushing out in ribbons of red. It was never-ending.

You pressed an old t-shirt to the wound, trying your best to make some sort of tourniquet to stop the flow of the blood before pouring the rubbing alcohol over it. He covered his mouth with his hand and groaned, eyes squeezing shut, tears prickling the edges.

As you worked, he fell completely silent. You did too, too focused on keeping him alive to notice his eyes on you.

Not a word was exchanged.

Then a quiet, "Are you still mad at me?"

You looked up for a moment, eyes meeting his as he stared at you. They were hooded, but filled with sadness. He tilted his head back, a quiet sigh escaping his lips as he blinked, still keeping his eyes on yours.

He looked like he wanted to say something. He didn't.

So neither did you.

But after another moment,

"I'm sorry."

It was just a whisper, so quiet you'd barely even heard it, but it meant so much. You felt your eyes tear up and you refused to look at him, continuing to gently work on his wounds.

"Say something." he whispered, pushing your hands off of him and sitting up. He grabbed your arms, holding your hands in his. "Please. Anything. I'm-I'm sorry."

You looked at him, taking a shaky breath. Suddenly, you jumped towards him, practically melting into his arms when they wrapped around you.

And just like that...everything felt better.

"Ow-" he winced as you accidentally put pressure on his sore wound, and you immediately shifted yourself, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I-I'm sorry. You shouldn't be sorry, I'm sorry." he stammered, taking your face in his hands as gently as he could. He smiled slightly, wiping away the remnants of tears in the corners of your eyes. "Are you crying?"

"No!" you quickly responded, pulling back. "I just-I just-"

"It's okay. You can cry" he said with a grin, sitting up again with a grunt.

"I'm not crying because of the argument, you jerk." you said with a huff. "I-I just hate seeing you like this. I get scared." your voice sounded so small in the moment, it was like a completely different person had appeared.

His gaze softened. "I see." He gestured for you to come back towards him and you did, resting your head against his chest as he held you close. "Thank you. For letting me in." he whispered, kissing the top of your head gently, his lips lingering for a moment longer than usual.

"Of course." you replied with a smile, looking up at him with crinkled eyes. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." he said, returning the smile before giving you a gentle kiss, hands cupping your face as he pulled you close. You giggled before snuggling up to him a little closer, making sure to be careful not to graze his still sensitive cuts.

"So you're not mad at me anymore?" he asked tentatively, closing his eyes as he buried his face in your neck. You stayed silent for a moment and you could swear you felt his heart drop when you didn't respond.

You grinned. "No. I'm not mad anymore." He chuckled, nervously almost. "You had me there for a second." he whispered, kissing your cheek gently.

"I am sorry though."

"What for?"

He froze. "For...for the argument."

"What part of the argument?"

He stayed silent and you couldn't help but laugh. So he'd forgotten how it'd started too. Funny.

"I forgot too, Miles. Don't worry."

He breathed out a sigh of relief and laughed, tilting his head back. "Jesus, you scared me."

"Not as bad as you scared me, knocking on my window like that. There's blood everywhere" you said with a frown, glancing back towards the window.

He pulled your head back gently. "Don't look at the blood, just look at me. We can worry about that later, yeah?"

You smiled, nodding before hugging him again. His fingers brushed through your hair as he held you close, breathing matching yours. A tender moment.

"I love you, you know that right?" he asked softly, lips moving to kiss your forehead one more time.

"I know, Miles. I love you too."

_______

🥺🥺🥺 im gonna cry

why did I write this it literally hurts how cute it is

:((

hopefully you liked this anon!!

______

Taglist:

@therealloopylupin2099 @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @d0uble-tr0ubl3 @choccymilkdrinker @breadglasses @sunasslut69 @a-cinnamonbunny @ask-1610miles @axels-garden @miniaturesuitfox @spotconlon55 @riris-radioactive-panther @trash-panda-xoxo @0strawberrysorbet0 @preciousxsin @d3lux4ry @uwukiity

Taglist Link --> HERE

Masterlist --> HERE

[spderkid]

hi. more miles

[favouritefi]

take care of that little boy for me 

[milimeters-morales]

pleaseee post this time omg omg omg

[charmedbystars]

Miles and reader with this trend? https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSLyvbhAE/

🤭

pairing: e-42 miles x reader

summary: you have to bribe miles into making a tiktok. he ended up enjoying it.

content: it seems suggestive but nothing happens! no initiation, just a flirty miles.

a/n: i forgot about this trend but i'm SOOOO happy you showed me this.

laying in bed with miles was one of your favorite things to do. you guys didn’t even need to talk or do anything. just that one on one time together fulfilled you. today was a lazy day for you guys. it was sunday so neither of you had the energy to go out and do anything, so you resorted to laying in bed and watching movies all day. the day went by pretty quickly though and you guys got bored after watching the twelfth movie. you were on your back rested up against the millions of pillows on your bed while miles’ head was resting on your stomach. miles was playing a game while you were scrolling through tiktok. 

you’ve been on tiktok for about an hour now when you see a tiktok pop up on your for you page and it intrigued you. clicking on the sound, you scrolled through the other videos under the sound discovering the trend. you thought it was cute and wanted to do it with miles. you knew it would take a bit of convincing since he wasn’t a big fan of being on camera, but you’ll make it happen one way or another. 

nudging your leg against miles’ shoulder caused him to look up at you with a hum. “miles, can we do something,” you asked, batting your eyelashes. 

he flipped over, now propping himself up on his elbows, “what you wanna do, ma?” not knowing what you were about to ask. clicking on a video and flipping your phone to show him, he looked at the tiktok and then back to you before going back to laying on your stomach mumbling a quiet “no.” 

nudging his shoulder again, you kept on begging, “pleeasseeee, i won’t even post it, i promise,” trying to negotiate the best you can to convince him to do the video with you. “i know your phone is full of pictures of me while i only have 30 photos of you. it’s not fairr.” 

miles went back to his game ignoring what you said. there was no way he was admitting to you the abundance of albums of you on his phone, but he wasn’t gonna lie to you either, so he just kept on playing. 

“i’ll do anything miles,” and that’s what caught his attention. 

“anything?” he repeated. 

“well not anything, but you get the gist, genius.”

“mhm, 'kay.” he finally agreed. you cheered, doing a small applause, making him swoon over just how cute you are. you started moving around and directing miles how he should lay. you guys didn’t really need to reposition yourself that much. miles just needing to turn to lay on his back and you just throw your legs over his shoulders. getting in position, miles wrapped his arms around your legs, hugging them in a way, “damn mami, i think i like this. why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“miles, do not play with me right now because i literally showed you the video.”

“alrightt chilllll,” he stretched out. you pressed on the sound now, pulling up the camera. handing your phone to miles, you told him to just press on the red button once and let the sound go through. 

pressing the button, miles started with the phone close to his face before moving his hand back, so the camera can see the position he was in. starting the video with a serious look on his face, as the sound went by, he couldn’t help the smirk growing on his face. with one hand holding the phone, his other grabbed your thigh, squeezing it. your hand came down to rest on his cheek and caressed it softly. 

the sound ended and you quickly snatched your phone from his hand. you looked over the video with a wide smile on your face. the video replayed like four times before your phone was snatched from your hands and turned off. miles threw your phone to the other side of the bed. he grabbed you by the waist and flipped your positions. his back now resting against the pillows and you’re straddling his lap. 

he crossed his hands behind his head, “you said anything, right?”

you nodded your head slowly, not knowing what to expect from your boyfriend. 

he leaned back, “well come here and give me a kiss.” and you happily obliged.

[solitude4chiron]

texts with your boyfriend..

Miles!42 x Blk!fem reader

Pt: to be continued..

[vhstown]

ain't no love; pt. 4

"ain't no love 'cause you ain't around"

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SERIES SUMMARY: Miles G Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 ← PART 3 / PART 4 / PART 5 ->

chapter summary: [DUAL POV] This was probably not how sophomore year was supposed to go.

content/warnings: mentions of death and loss, mentions of vaping (😭) and depictions of violence

word count: 4.0k

a/n: hi ive had. a very interesting year of high school myself my bad for the wait 😭 thank u all 4 sticking around for... a YEAR??? and thank u @/qiuweyballs for the proofread as always my guy and there will probably be a part 5 and an epilogue after this part ermmm yea 4 parts is not it guys

"Jesus Christ…"

By the look on your face, you were probably thinking the same thing.

"Miles…" Your voice was a whisper, eyes still fixed at the gym doors. “What the hell is going on?"

His arms fell to his sides in response. All the same questions you were going to ask were circulating through his head already, but he didn't have a single answer in response. His chest was beginning to hurt as he held his breath, thinking of what to say — what to do.

"Mijo, someone's calling you. Is this your friend?”

"Mami, uh, yeah, from school."

"¿Se llamas 'pana'? ¿Es latino? (You call them 'buddy'? Are they latino?) Wait—! Why did you hang up?"

"I'll call 'em back later, 's not that serious right now."

"Oy, ¡no seas maleducado! (don't be rude!) I'm sure your friend wants to talk to you."

"Right, yeah. Totally. Right when we're about to see dad."

"You have to make time for people, Miles. I know you're busy with school, but you can't expect anything from others if you don't give."

"Lo sé, mamí." (I know, mom.)

"If only you showed it! You might smart in your academics, but in real li—"

"Alright, alright! I'll call back later…!"

“I'll tell you later,” is what came out of his mouth, his eyes at his hands, which disappeared into his pockets. Some friend he was.

“I’m not goin’ to Visions to make friends, Uncle Aaron.”

“Nobody's putting it against you if you do.”

“Nobody would have to.”

Miles noticed your expression again, eyebrows furrowed at his answer. It lacked any semblance of the person he’d come to know. That grit, that quick-thinking look in your eyes, the one he saw when you faced Rafael, when you pulled the alarms at Oscorp… that look that told him that even if something were to happen to you, you’d somehow make it out in one piece — totally missing.

Some god damn vigilante, pulling you into his sh*t.

"I think you should head back."

The words felt useless, tumbling out of his mouth and landing by his feet. Some part of him hoped you'd run before he could see the mistrust in your eyes.

"What are you talking about?” you respond, finally meeting his eyes.

What were you talking about?

"I've seen him before, Miles. That guy… Wellston… You don't get it, he—"

"You two!"

Miles winced, realising he’d bit his tongue. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the sudden voice, or the fact that he almost told you “I know.” It didn't really matter, he decided. Weber didn't look very pleased.

"Are we loitering here, or are we actually going to go and volunteer?" Neither of you could manage an apology as you made a start for the gym.

With the clack of Ms. Weber’s heels behind you two, Miles reached into his pocket, he pulled his phone out.

Home late today, got that job fair Delivered Tqm mami Delivered

Today was going to be a long day.

"What are you mumbling to yourself about?" you whispered, the sharp of your elbow brushing his arm.

"Nothing," he mutters, pressing his lips shut. Talking to himself like a crazy person definitely wasn't helping his case here.

"What do we do?”

"We?" It was his turn to give you an incredulous look.

"We, us, me and you. Does it matter? That thing is at a high school job fair, Miles—"

“If you don't find a way to leave…” he murmured through his teeth, turning and catching Weber's gaze for a moment too long. Right. Her. "You know what? Just trust me."

“Trust you to do what?”

“I’m gonna leave. You’re gonna stay right here.“

“What? Why?”

Beep!

With the tap of Weber’s key card by the doors, tacky decorations, dreary fluorescent lights and stands in various stages of being set up came into view. Visions’ state-of-the-art careers fair. Miles shut his eyes for a moment, squeezing the ache out of them.

“ENROL IN OUR STUDENT PROGRAM TODAY!” read a stand above a picture of young people in lab coats, all smiling in strangely the exact same way. Oscorp still had the balls to come, of course. The actual young people at the stand looked much less enthusiastic than their pictured counterparts, their supervisor barking orders.

“Young Leaders: Get into politics!” — “Apprenticeships at Fisk Industries” — “Join the future of tech with BESTMAN TELECOM”.

Nothing like a bit of colourful text to cover up a couple of questionable practices.

“JOIN US” one read, rather simply. The PDNY.

Miles’ eyes lingered on the smooth police blue behind the pictured police officers. It was the same blue that he’d seen in adverts on the subway, peeking out from graffitied billboards, on his dad’s uniform.

He wondered what had happened to his dad’s co-worker. He wondered what the hell a man with the bright yellow visitor’s badge was doing pretending to be Police Constable Daniella Williams at some random school careers fair.

“JOIN US”.

He wondered if his dad had seen the same poster he was looking at right now.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Make yourselves useful!” Right. Weber.

You followed him as he walked into the gym, right past the PDNY stand.

He didn’t know how he was going to break it to you that this was probably going to be the last time you'd see him — at least, at school.

If the Prowler was good at one thing, it was hiding.

Wellston, Williams, Stromm…

As hard as you tried, everything was hopelessly melding together in your head. Amidst the dull murmur of people getting things together, all you could think of was that melting face back at Oscorp, every crevice burned into your memory by the light of the Prowler's blast.

You tried to avoid looking at the woman, as if she'd deform before your eyes as soon as you did. You’d met P.C. Williams before, back when you were a freshman and this fair was actually meant for you. She still had the same cropped hair and thick glasses. Well, this thing did, anyway.

Miles wasn’t looking at you right now. It was good that he wasn’t, you thought. There was a crease between his brows, one he had when he was thinking of what to write in English Lit, or frowning at his phone in the hallways. You had no idea what he was thinking about right now, though.

“You're leaving?” you muttered, despite yourself.

The boy took in a breath, but the sigh you expected didn’t follow.

“I’m gonna leave, and you’re gonna cover for me.”

“To do what? Are you gonna call the cops or something?”

Stupid idea.

“Stupid idea," he replies, shaking his head.

I was gonna say that, damn it.

What if he somehow knew this shapeshifter person? You shook the thought from your head — he’d been just as shocked as you had when he saw Wellston shapeshift.

But he was the one to pull you into that hiding spot in the first place — almost like he’d been anticipating it. He went with you to the extra class too. He went on the subway with you even though he seemed to get more irritated every stop you passed, and he clearly didn’t live that far out.

“Miles,” you started, eyes narrowing at him, even if he wasn’t looking at you. “Are you—”

“Morales!” A flicker of annoyance tinged the boy’s expression as he turned to face the source of the voice.

Emerging through the crowd — buzz cut, shiny earrings, colourful suit —Principal Evans stepped into the space between you two.

“Could I talk with you a minute?” Her lips were pressed into an impossibly thin line.

“…Sure.” Miles turned away, but not before giving you an awkward look. For a second, it convinced you that you two were back in AP Calc, and Wellston was going on a tangent about something a little too personal again.

“Don’t you got somewhere to be?” The look Principal Evans gave you was more expectant.

You nodded by instinct, walking away before you could say anything at all.

Finding yourself at the back wall of the gymnasium, concealed rather poorly by the tacky banking stand, you turned to see “The Daily Bugle” in fancy serif, the trumpet logo plastered everywhere it would fit. A red-haired woman pinning up some papers glanced back and smiled at you. She was pretty, eye makeup immaculate and lipstick as clean as her smile — a journalist, of course.

“Are you here to help?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah…” you mumbled out, straightening out your shoulders. The least you could do right now was be useful, while hoping Evans wouldn't keep Miles too long.

“Good, because the kid who was supposed to help out here just up and disappeared.” She let out out a laugh, the professional edge in her smile softening. It eased your nerves just a little. “Mind helping me out with these? I’m Mary Jane Watson, by the way — just MJ right now, though. I'm a journalist at the Bugle.”

“Sure, MJ.” You smiled back, a little dubiously, before reaching for some of the papers.

“NOTORIOUS CRIMINAL PROWLER SPOTTED AT OSCO—”

“Nope,” you whispered under your breath, picking out another headline.

“Did you say something?” MJ asked.

“Oh, no, nothing.”

You bit your lip, flicking through the papers. “Where’d the other kid go?”

“I have no idea. He wanted to use the bathroom, but it’s been 20 minutes. Pretty sure his name was Rafael.”

“Rafa—” The paper flopped, half-open in your hands. “Oh…”

“Was that a bad idea? Is he notorious at your school or something?” she jokes. You manage a sort-of grin.

“Kinda? I didn’t think he’d be at the careers fair.” Rafael of all people… “Are you the only one here?”

“Pretty much. It was my idea to come, everyone’s busy at the Bugle, right?”

“Probably, yeah.”

Miles was still talking to Evans. Whatever he was going to do, you had to cover for it… Did you really? What if you were covering for something crazy? What was crazier than this? Was he just going to ditch you? Why was he talking to Principal Evans all the time anyway?

“Mary— MJ,” you started.

“Yeah?”

“Do you… would you happen to know anything about Oscorp? You know, with the Prowler…”

“Oh, I wish. Oscorp’s been dead silent. Everything’s 'just speculation' for now.”

“Why are they sure it's the Prowler, then? Couldn’t it have been someone else?” Like, the weird shape shifting monster thing?

“He’s been a big problem for Oscorp lately. A security breach doesn’t seem too out of character for him.”

“Security breach?”

“No details on that, unfortunately. Are you interested in journalism, or just curious?”

“Just curious…" you reply, a weird laugh leaving your mouth. "Who knows, though?”

Like you’d ever willingly go into the press — at least, not the Bugle. J. Jonah Jameson and his conspiracies were not at the top of your job prospects.

“That looks good," MJ says, giving you a nod as you straightened out the display of leaflets and little trinkets on the table. “Glad you came by — I don’t think the other kid’s coming back, though.”

“Yeah, probably not…”

Eyes falling on the exit, you saw someone waving as they made their way out — a woman in a police uniform.

P.C. Williams.

Miles was still talking to Evans. He looked frustrated, almost upset, even — definitely not noticing what was going on right now.

“Uh, Mary— I mean, MJ. I’m… just gonna use the bathroom real quick.”

“Oh, uh, okay. Just make sure to come ba—”

Sorry, MJ.

Walking right by Miles’ field of view, and with Principal Evans’ back to you, you mouthed what you hoped would come across as “HE’S LEAVING” as the doors shut behind Williams.

“Where are you going?” A girl with her hair in an erratic half-bun and crossed arms stopped you, standing in front of the door. Great. Maybe you’d have to start hating these seniors more than the freshmen.

“Bathroom,” you mumbled, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice.

“That’s what the last guy said,” remarked a boy much taller than the girl, hair coloured in a way that probably wasn’t allowed at school. He was also crossing his arms. Tweedledee and tweedledum.

“No, you don’t get it, I really gotta go—”

“You can't wait for 10 minutes?” the girl replied, a demeaning furrow in her brows.

“I—” You swallowed, realising you were wasting time. He could be anywhere, or any-one right now.

Click!

“Hey!”

Doors shutting behind you and feet carrying you past the changing rooms, you dashed outside, ushering past the growing congregation of freshmen and hoping you weren’t being followed right now.

Wellston was walking into the main reception.

Walking closer, you could make out just who was leaving the reception: a woman in a police uniform, visitor’s badge in hand.

P.C. Williams. You felt like you were losing it.

Feet stuck to the ground, you could only stare as she approached you.

“Hey, sorry, you’re a student here, right?” She gave you a smile, looking around briefly. “Which way is the job fair? I always lose my way around here.”

“Um…” You blinked a little uselessly. “Over—”

“It’s that way. Big blue and yellow sign. Can't miss it”

You turned to see Miles, thumb pointing towards the gymnasium.

“Thank you!” The woman nodded at him, before walking away.

When she was far enough, Miles turned to you.

“What’d you see?” he said, reaching into his pocket. You tried to recount it.

“I— Wellston just left from the reception. At the exact same time as that police lady— Who are you texting right now?”

Miles was tapping away at his phone incessantly, pausing to look up at you when you stopped talking. When he saw your less-than amused expression, he almost sheepishly looked back down at his phone again.

“Hello? Earth to Morale—”

“Just gimme a sec, damn!”

You could tell he was trying to school the frustration on his face, the way his cheek in from biting the inside of his mouth.

“…That's it,” he suddenly muttered out loud.

“What? That's what?”

“That guy's the…” Miles presses his lips together, stopping himself.

“The what?” You almost wanted to shout at him, but it probably wasn't a good idea considering that

“The Chameleon, Jesus, are you—” He let out an exasperated breath, running a hand over his face. You were glad he didn’t finish that sentence. “He’s involved with the Sinister Six.”

"Isn't the Prowler part of the Sinister Six too? It's looking a lot more than six people lately, Miles."

"The Prowler's not a part of the Sinister Six."

"What's the difference? I know you're into comics and stuff, but these aren't supervillains, they're real criminals!"

“Rude.”

"Like you haven't been!"

You let out a groan as he continues with his phone, looking behind you two occasionally.

“Who the hell is the Chameleon anyway?”

“Shapeshifter. In prison eight years ago. In schools now, for some damn reason.”

“We were eight eight years ago, why do you even know that?”

"Do you not watch the news?"

"Rude."

It's his turn to groan, shaking his head.

"Who are you texting?"

"My uncle." You were half-expecting him to say his mom.

“What's your uncle gonna do? Is he a police officer too?”

His jaw shifts at that, before you both notice the forboding presence in the distance.

Principal Evans.

“Look, my mom’s real sick and I had to leave, got it?”

As soon as the words left, he did too, sprinting straight for the reception.

“Oh my God…” you muttered under your breath, hand pressed against your forehead, waiting for your next impending doom.

“You.” Defeatedly, you turned to the woman, her arms crossed. She had Rafael standing next to her, who looked even more defeated. “Just where did you run off to?”

“The bathroom—”

“Do not lie to me.” You tried not to wince at her tone. “There are bathrooms in the gymnasium.”

“I thought they were locked, so I… went to my dorm’s bathroom.” The woman furrowed her brows at you, as if trying to get something more out of you. The breath was still in your throat, hoping your terrible lie would hold up.

“Your dorm's bathroom… And where’s Morales?”

You felt Rafael’s eyes on you for a moment.

“His, uh…” You tried to recall what garbage excuse he’d just told amongst the muddle in your head. “His mom’s sick or something, I dunno, he had to go home…”

“Right. I’ll be makin’ sure to call her.”

Sorry, Miles. Sorry, MJ. Sorry, Principal Evans. Better start practising your apologies now.

It was his problem. Kind of definitely yours too.

“The fair’s about to start, I need y’all back in there this instant. And Ortiz, you’re goin’ straight to my office.”

Despite the nagging urge to poke fun at Rafael, the two of you walked back in silence. You had a rough idea of what he was off doing, considering the overwhelming smell of artificial strawberry coming from him. Maybe Evans would finally expel him. Vaping wasn't the most noble way to go, though.

Regardless, it was his problem. You wondered why it felt like it was yours too. Maybe it was because you were both in trouble, or because you somehow got involved in everyone's problems regardless. To think you'd finally get used to this school in sophomore year.

“Are you interested in journalism, or just curious?

"Just curious. Who knows, though?"

Maybe MJ could help — after a little apology, probably.

"We can't go after him right now."

"Why not?" MIles murmurs into his phone as he fumbles with the hoodie and mask he'd hastily thrown on. The receptionist hadn't been at the desk, but he did not want his face in someone's line of sight.

"That might not even be him, Miles."

"I thought his victims were supposed to be dead."

"One's definitely alive."

"Yeah, and she's at the fair. Wellston didn't even show up to class."

"Your ma's gonna be happy." God damn it. He could already hear her lecture. Mijo, sneaking out of school?!

"Shut up," he mutters, to nobody in particular.

"Don't talk to me like that, Miles."

"Sorry."

He turns into the main street, spotting Wellston. Looks like he hadn't shape-shifted yet. The streets were flooded with school kids now. Some were piling out of his old middle school, pulling faces and make strange noises at him. Still the same as ever.

"You still following him?"

"Trying."

Moles were made for hiding. This one was steadily speeding his way through the crowd as Miles tried to match his pace. There were just a few more by-streets to pass before the station, meaning he'd have to make his move before he'd lose the chance to.

As a new flood of people came through, Miles found himself just a foot or two away. With a quick jut of his elbow, the man's briefcase-looking bag came tumbling off of his shoulder, kicked around on the pavement by a million people's feet. Miles pummeled the bag with a kick, and it spinned easily into the darkness of the nearby alley, as if it weighed nothing. Wellston looked at him with uncertain eyes, as if he'd derived some shred of what was going on, but started walking for the alleyway anyway.

"I got him, don't even worry about it," he murmurs into his phone, before following him, feet silent against the concrete. He can make out the faint sigh of his uncle as the sound of the city temporarily fades away.

As Wellston reached down to pick up his bag, Miles shoved the man to the wall, his body obscured from view by a dumpster. As he scrambled to face him, Miles' foot pinned him right back where he was, dug right against his stomach.

"Huh, what a—"

"If you scream, you're not coming out of this damn alleyway," he taunts, shoving his phone in his pocket so his uncle couldn't hear how terribly he was deepening his voice right now.

"Okay, okay. What do you want? My wallet? Here—" The man let out an uncomfortable grunt as Miles forced his foot a little harder against him.

"I want to know who you are." Aside from the creepy ass teacher following my friend around.

"Who I…? I—I'm William. William Wellston. I'm twenty-six and work at Brooklyn Vi—" The man's face scrunched up in pain at the sudden tilt of Miles' foot against the bend of his torso.

He could hear the quiet crack of claws, somewhere in the distance. So his uncle had shown up.

"Wrong answer. One more chance."

"Alright, alright! I'm… God, why me…?" If the man took any longer, Miles was sure he was going to put his other foot into the equation. "I'm Garrett. Garrett East. I used to be an accountant at Manhattan Tax Services."

Garrett… who the f*ck now?

"Who's William Wellston, then?"

"I… oh my God, I deserve this, don't I? He's… another guy. I stole his identity. His life."

"How so?"

"You… you're not going to tell anyone, right? I am dead if my boss finds out. And that's not that Evans lady."

"You're dead if you don't cough it up right now."

Miles was expecting the Chameleon to be a little more formidable for an international criminal, but the tiny, indignant little squeak that came out of his mouth was less than.

"Oh my god, okay! I'm… my boss is… he's really good at costumes, and fixed me up to look like this guy — I didn't know he was dead, okay!"

"Costumes…? Don't lie to me."

"I'm serious! I mean, uh, this is sort of a costume, but I look like this every day now."

"You're not a shapeshifter?"

"I'm not a… what?" The man's exasperated expression turned to one that of what appeared to be… genuine confusion. It almost felt like Miles had been slapped in the face.

"…What did I tell you, Chameleon? Don't lie to me. Or is he your boss?"

"Chameleon? What… No, my boss is… My boss is a guy called Dmitri. Couldn't tell you his last name, it's Russian I think."

"Dmitri Smerdyakov." Damn name ain't even that hard. "So… the Chameleon."

"I don't know who the Chameleon is—"

"Where were you at 3:00pm today?" Wellston was missing from class, that's for sure.

"I… My boss told me to leave and… hide out. I had a class at the time, but he sounded angry so I didn't want to argue. I'm… kind of fired now."

"For one class?"

"He's made me do that a lot of times. Told me to give him my keycard and… look I don't know, okay! This Dmitri guy, you wouldn't want to know him. And my life is basically over, for the second time."

The man looked at Miles as if he was going to break down crying, and the boy felt a lot more awkward as he tried to piece things together before that happened.

"Where's your boss?"

"I don't… please. I don't know. I don't know who you are either!"

Before Miles could even let out a breath, a purple-green flurry whizzed by his peripheral, followed by a thump of feet. One clink of the metal claws got the man spluttering.

"Okay, okay! He's the Chameleon, the shapeshifter! He's been taking my place, and, uh, he's trying to take over this kid's life too! He's, Jesus, please don't hurt me. You're the Prowler aren't you…? The two of… oh god."

Miles could care less about being identified right now, or the fact that it took his uncle about 2 seconds to get more information out of this bastard that had been lying to him for 2 minutes straight. This kid. He felt his chest tighten.

"This kid?" he mumbled, knowing his uncle wouldn't respond. He had to keep up the strong and silent schtick, as he put it. Now was not the time to marvel at the corniness of that, though. "Who?"

Miles thought he might be sick when he heard what came out of the miserable man's mouth.

It was your name.

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