#miles!1610

[sweet-3-whispers]

𝑳𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒚𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 (ᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛ)

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

Word Count: 710 or so

Pairing: Miles!1610 x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst(if you spuint), Established relationship

Warnings: Fear of Thunder(?)

The slightly soft sound of rain hitting your window and the trees moving along with the wind helps you calm your body and mind, especially when Spider-Man is right beside you asleep.

Miles came into your apartment a couple hours earlier when the rain hadn't hit yet. Claiming he was tired and missed your bed… and obviously you too. He was currency wrapped around your blankets, face squished onto the pillow and a little drool coming out but you didn’t mind that much, it was kinda cute and it made you realize how tired he was.

A sound of thunder interrupted your thoughts.

You jump at the loud sound outside your window. For some reason you were scared of that sound, afraid all the things it done to people would happen to you one day but when Miles found out of your fear, he promised he would always be there to protect you.

That promise was years ago when you guys were kids and now you are laying in bed, cuddling up with each other, away from that horrible sound.

Even now he kept his promise, always checking the weather before he goes over to your room. And at this point you understand why he comes over on late nights, even if he tries to cover it up by saying he was just tired and your place was closer than his.

It's cute the way he cares about you, the way he is always there for you… most of the time.

Lightning strikes outside your window but not too close to hurt you. The heavy rain doesn't help either, only taunting you going back ‘n forth to light and heavy, oh how you wish it'll just stop so you can finally sleep.

With some people they are about to sleep through anything, however with you, you can't sleep thru the thunder especially if Miles wasn't here with you

You wrapped yourself with your blankets, covering your face as well to try and cover the noises outside, you've even tried listening to music but for some reason it didn't work.

Sitting up on your bed with the blankets covering you like its a cloak, you grabbed your phone, about to call Miles you stopped.

‘What if he’s busy’

You paused for a second.. should you? Maybe you shouldn't, maybe he’s really busy , yk being Spider-Man ‘n stuff.

RIINNGGG

A loud ring was heard from your phone, startling you a little. Upon looking at the screen… Miles’s name popped up

𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑠♡ is calling

“...hello?”

“hi-uh are you okay?” the sound of worry was in his voice

“I-i know i'm supposed to be there rn, with you, comforting you but im so sorry, i got caught up with some school work and there was this shooting but i made it on time and for some guy started running away so i had to catch him, i had also had to help this lady walk across the road-”

You can hear it in his voice. Worry and Guilt. The worry of your safety and the guilt of not being right by your side right now.

“Miles, it’s okay… but um are you on your way right now..?” cutting him off on his own rambling, he went silent but you can hear him gasping for air, huffing and puffing. 

“-yeah yeah huff huff i-im almost-”

Suddenly the call was cut off and a loud bang was heard outside your window. Thankfully you were home alone but still cautious about the noise.

A hand was placed on the window, sliding it open. The sight of brown curls eased your nerves, instantly knowing who it was.

You moved closer to the boy helping him up and closing the window behind him.

He slowly walked towards your bed and sat, catching his breath. Raising his head, he looked at you with dazed eyes and mouth slightly gapped.

“huff -hi…” 

Miles moved his hands towards you and gently grabbed your hand, pulling you into a warm embrace

“Im sorry im late, got caught up with ‘traffic’ “

He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your stomach. You pat him softly, comforting him by saying it's okay, just glad that he’s here now.

“OH SHIT THE FOOD- ”

___________________________________________

sorry for the long wait, but I hope you enjoy!💕

this is kinda rushed cuz I didn't want y'all to wait to long

-apologize for to miss spelled words-

[milesmorales99]

[crowiin]

Putting him in a blender

[kombuuuu]

we all notice hobie in this scene cause he’s a cutie pie but LOOK AT MILES EYES

HES SO FUNNY (o 0)

[t1koy-roll]

Ms paint Miles

[bozallicious]

Lil Miles wip🧟‍♀️Sony please let my darling nephew be happy for once😔🙏🏻

[luvjunie]

— headcanons. miles morales (earth1610)

MILES who somehow managed to pick you up with that corny little shoulder touch his Uncle Aaron taught him. Not because it actually worked and left you smitten and head over heels for him—but because in that moment, the dorky boy who stood in front of you had made you laugh so hard you’d nearly peed yourself. There was no way that with a sense of humor like his, he wasn’t getting your number.

MILES who has never missed a good morning or a goodnight text. While often they may not always be at the most ideal times, it���s the fact that he remembered that means the most to you. Even if he’s running late to school, shoes untied, and shirt buttoned unevenly as he bundles out the door of his dorm, he insists he can text and run to class at the same time. And at night, even if his eyelids feel as if they weigh a ton the minute his back finally hits his mattress after webbing the villain of the week to a light pole for the cops, he refuses to fall asleep without telling you he loves you first— though the message may include a few sleepy typos. “Goodnihgt aby i lov youuu” “shitno i meant baby not aby”

MILES who hand draws a card for you when the monthly anniversary of your relationship rolls by. Each one of them is different and creative in their own way and you’re always excited to see what it’ll look like this time. He’ll swiftly swing by your fire escape on his way to patrol, drop a box of chocolates, your favorite candy, or a bouquet of flowers on the steel metal along with the card, then switch arms and thwip another web to the next building in the same breath.

MILES who loves to draw you, especially when the two of you haven’t been able to hang out in a while, just so he can reminisce and pretend like you’re there, in his room with him. His sketchbook is filled with pictures of you, hearts usually adorning whatever space is left blank on the paper. He sees you in such a different light than you view yourself in, and he’s able to capture certain aspects of your features that you hadn’t even noticed before. He was so embarrassed the first time you saw his sketchbook laid open on his bed and tried to hide them from you, nervous he’d make you uncomfortable in any way. But you were nothing short of flattered, and reassured him of such by smattering kisses onto the expanse his flushed face and telling him how much of a sweetheart he was.

MILES who falls asleep in the span of two seconds. Usually when you can’t come over, you settle for long facetime calls so you can tell each other about your days, or watch a movie together. But he’s just so comfortable around you, and your voice is so calming, like a lullaby, so much so that he can’t help it when he falls asleep halfway into your rundown of events. After five minutes of silence, which is unheard of for a kid like Miles who is always filled with endless quips and jokes, you’ll scoop your phone off your bed only to see his ivory-colored ceiling instead of his face.

“Milesss!” You whine, the sudden sound of shuffling from the other end of the line erupting through your speakers as he frantically scoops his phone back up from his pillow, his sleepy face shifting back into view.

“Huh?” He mumbles, clearing his throat as he blinks the sleep from his eyes.

“You fell asleep in the middle of my story again.” You accuse.

“Nuh uh! I’ve been awake this whole time. I’m just a really, really good listener, m-hm. I am a wonderful and completely-awake, professional listener.” He nods, gifting you his signature goofy smile that‘s always a reminder that you can never be mad at him for long.

MILES who loves taking you to the new places he’s able to go around the city now that he’s Spiderman.

When you found out your boyfriend was Spiderman, you were in such disbelief that you immediately asked for proof, for him to show you anything that proved he was spiderman other than a suit and a mask. And proof you got, if the powerful gusts of wind in your face as he swung the two of you with web after web over the skyline of the city were anything to go by.

You were terrified the first time, legs glued around his waist and arms clamped so tightly around his neck that there was no way you’d fall. He would never in a million years let you slip from his grasp anyways, but if you did, you were damn sure taking him with you. He kept one arm around your waist for support and laughed at how you hollered almost the entire way to the clock tower, and whether they were screams of excitement or terror, he didn’t know.

It was beyond exhilarating, seeing the city from above with him, standing on the roofs of buildings you never imagined you’d reach. It had your heart pumping faster than you thought it ever could and your trust in him solidifying even further, and soon you found yourself asking him take you again, and again. And Miles would take you anywhere you wanted to go; open to doing anything just to see a smile on your face and to have you holding onto him like that again.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to any other platforms

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

[porcelanitaa]

"Miles and Miles G are literally Sonic and Shadow!" SHUT UP. THEY ARE TAILS AND NINE.

In Nine's universe, the Eggmen took over the world. Just like the sinister six took over Earth 42.

At least in my mind, the phrase "he's just like Tails, he's just a little.. angsty!" fits Miles G perfectly

"Tails" and "Nine" are just nicknames. Their real name is "MILES PROWER"

[thewriterg]

mr and mrs ‘let me do it’

A/n; I haven’t wrote for marvel in so long… anyhow, headcanons because I can and I want to

warning(s): both miles are stubborn in their own ways, mrs independent woman reader, slithers of mama Rio, a little bickering, mentions of social norms, pet names, rusty spanish, and language l

earth 1610 miles! who’s love language is acts of service, —as well as physical touch— in which it literally makes him go insane when you don’t let him do something for you. drastic or mundane you volunteer yourself everytime and he hates it

earth 1610 miles! who has to learn to somewhat bully his way into doing things for you… you guys sitting together during lunch and you forgot to get utensils? before you can even swing your leg over the bench of the cafeteria table he’s already up walking back to the cart that carries condiments, napkins, plastic packaged utensils and things of the sort

earth 1610 miles! where you both turn it into a little competition on who can help the other one more. you ask him to hold your phone so you can tie your shoe? that’s cute, meanwhile he fully gets down on one knee and ties them for you. Oh, his dorm is messy and he can’t find his notes he needed to finish over the weekend back home? meanwhile, your in your own room copying down what you you wrote from your notes filled with scribblings of words onto his semi empty notebook.

earth 1610 miles! who likes to do something to make your life a little easier no matter how big or small. your about to have a study session and you ran to the bathroom? guess who taking all the text books and notes out of your bag so you don’t have to rummage thought it? Well miles of course :)

earth 1610 miles! who loves you because you think about him and your actions really show it. he had to patrol and couldn’t watch the new episode of his favorite super hero, guess who recorded the who thing start to finish so he could watch it in his down time?

earth 1610 miles! who is in a healthy happy competition of completing services for one another with you because “Te amo aunque seas terco, mi vida.”

ミ★ミ★ミ★

earth 42 miles! who is quite literally wont take no for an answer. it got to a point where he would just start doing things for you instead of asking. you look like you’re carrying too many bags on your mini splurge at the mall? welp now you’re carrying NOTHING.

earth 42 miles! where you both grew up around the social norm of ‘the man should pay for dates with a woman’ and rather he knew it or not, miles subconsciously adapted it into his life. you on the other hand couldn’t call bull shit fast enough to save your life. however, while miles really did value your core beliefs he couldn’t really be bothered to break the habit. he wasn’t wealthy per say, but he had enough to simultaneously spoil you with things as well as help his mom with necessities.

earth 42 miles! who mutters a “watch out ma” when you even try and reach for your purse to pay for ANYTHING. total of $8.67 at the bodega trying to get snacks for your movie night? “I got it.” total of $78.92 after having appetizers, meals, and dessert? “I got it.” $250 to go get some self care done “I got it.”

earth 42 miles! that gets you so frustrated that you guys start to have petty arguments that mama Rio doesn’t stand for. yes you’re lovers, but she will still make you hug in the oversized, OVERSIZED, tshirt until you figure it out like you’re siblings.

earth 42 miles! who you have to learn just loves that way and if you want a change you have to force it yourself. the look he gave you when you came back from the “restroom” on your next weekly date having found out when he waived down your waiter that the meal was already paid for was priceless and so was the small twitch of his lips upward at the bright, proud look on your face.

©2024 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[jasminebythebay]

what could have been

-

i was making myself sad by watching a clip of peter parker dying when the implications of insomniac peter parker being in atsv hit me. insomniac's Spiderman is one of the few times Peter actually lives to see Miles becomes Spiderman, so you can imagine how seeing a version of himself actually get a chance to know the peter parker of his world might shake up some Feelings™ (read: guilt, jealousy, awe)

don't get me wrong, Miles has clearly stepped into his role as Spiderman fantastically and loves having Peter B Parker as a mentor, but i wouldn't be surprised if he was a little jealous of insomniac miles getting peter's constant presence and support instead of just a week's worth

[vauer]

𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝟏𝟔𝟏𝟎 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: a couple of days ago, you found a strange blondie in his room. it's time to act decisively.

cᴡ: porn, age up, obscene language, cunnilingus, Internal misogyny, fem!reader

(English isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes 💌)

───♡─────────────

A couple of paint cans fell to the floor with a thud, drowning out the quiet moans. You insistently pulled Miles closer, wrapping your legs around his hips as his warm hands reverently stroked the curve of your waist.

“Do you like my figure that much?” you giggled as Miles gently squeezed the skin on your side.

"I'm studying the texture for authenticity," his embarrassed murmur touched your lips, parted from lack of air.

You two didn't expect the evening to turn out like this. Actually, Miles did not expect it when he invited you to be a sitter for his graduation work at art school. For you, on the other hand, it was a long-awaited chance. From the first time you met, you knew you had to have him for herself. While their classmates saw him as some silly nerd, there was nothing sexier for you than his craving for quantum physics and drawing.

In fact, you didn't really want to rush things between you, after all, you had only become friends a couple of months ago. But recently you found a girl in Miles's room and decided that it was impossible to delay. You had no idea who that blondie was, but she managed to shake your confidence. You had to hope Miles didn't have a type. You obviously couldn't call herself ugly, on the contrary, your parents' money was doing its job: a couple of years of wearing braces, expensive cosmetologists and hairdressers, and by graduation you could be confused with someone from the Kardashian family. The problem was, you didn't look alike that blondie at all.

You had well-groomed and neatly styled hair when that girl had a hairstyle that was done by either a self-taught punk or an autistic blind man. She dressed in a similar style also. What could Miles possibly see in her?

Anyway, it didn't matter at the moment, because right now his head was between your legs.

The cold and thick paint that you had spilled on the table slowly flowed down your leg. With a quick movement, Miles pulled off your underwear and smeared a purple stain on the back of your thigh. You took a deep breath and gripped the edge of the table. Your whole body was trembling slightly from overexcitation and excess of emotions.

A slight bite on the inside of your thigh sent a shiver down your spine, forcing you to spread your legs wider. You would never have thought that seeing his charming face between your legs could be the most satisfying part of the process.

"You didn't tell me about it."

You arched her back in a sudden burst of pleasure. Trying to calm you accelerated breathing, you swallowed, looking down. With an innocent expression on his face, Miles clamped the curved piercing bar between his teeth. Every little breath he took sent a wave of goosebumps through your body.

"You didn't show much interest in my holes before," you smiled, possessively throwing your legs over his shoulders.

Blushing slightly, Miles looked down again and wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you still. His hot tongue slowly slid along your wet folds, gently pushing them apart and deliberately brushing against the cold metal of the jewelry. You threw your head back, breathing heavily. You could have finish just from the look of his deer eyes innocently looking up at you.

"You're gonna kill me," you muttered, trying to grab onto something to keep from falling off the table under the pressure of the sensations delivered by his soft mouth. In the end, you ran your hand through his soft curls, pulling him as close as you could.

Miles moaned softly, lightly squeezing your butt, his tongue teasingly penetrating inside you as he leaned slightly towards your gentle hand in his hair.

"I think you're trying to strangle me right now," Miles chuckled. His cheeks were slightly squeezed by your thighs, making the whole picture even more adorable.

Feeling the sweet warmth in your lower abdomen, you pulled Miles even closer, moving your hips towards his mouth, rubbing yourself against his face.

Suddenly, he pinned you against the table, holding you by the waist. Unable to move, you threw her head back, feeling even more aroused. Finally, Miles's plump lips found your clit, sucking lightly on it.

He pulled back your piercing with his teeth once again, hard enough to make you gasp in surprise, but not hard enough to cause real pain.

It was too much for you. Just a couple of movements made you shudder and arch back from orgasm, throwing even more things off the table.

With a soft moan, Miles pressed his mouth to your pussy, prolonging your pleasure with a couple of movements of his tongue along your swollen and wet with excitement folds.

You involuntarily pinched his head between your thighs so that he had to forcibly spread your legs apart.

“Have you invited many people to “pose" like that?” you murmured with a note of jealousy and gratitude in voice. Your chest was heaving convulsively from the lack of air in lungs.

“No one,” Miles's cheeks turned an embarrassed blush as he tried to catch his breath, beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. He sat down on the table and looked at your naked body. Awkwardly reaching out, Miles smeared drops of paint on your collarbone, tracing a red line from your chest to hip while admiring your curves.

“Who was that blondie in your room the other day?” you blurted out, not caring how harsh your question sounded, especially after what he had just done to you.

Miles's eyes widened slightly at the unexpected question.

“Do you really want to talk about her at the moment?” He chuckled slightly. “Don't worry, I didn't do those things to her.”

───♡─────────────

hope I won't get cursed or wished to die for this (´꒳`)♡

[dadauz]

Some of the Miles drawings I did🌻

[yeehawknight]

One page comic inspired by "Miles's summer of 2010s" by Mashroomfields on AOE (sadly the site is still down). It needs a bit of context to really understand this.

I really, really liked it, especially this part in the first chapter. I put Miles's graffiti too because i just love a sunflower field.

[kombuuuu]

Omg I just saw that u write for atsv!! So I was wondering if u could do one with a female reader x hobie where the readers quite reserved to everyone in public (maybe she’d been a spidey longer so she’s lost more people? Idk why she’d be reserved bc I cannot write for shot lmao) and people think she’s super cold but then they like?? Walk in, and she’s like open and warm with Hobie (it doesn’t matter if she’s loud or not) and they kinda just look at the scene in shock like wtf and Pav is sort of smug bc he knew all along and then it comes out that they’re dating?

It Sounds Nice coming from You.

Hobie Brown x Fem!Spidey Reader

“I totally called it.” “Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”

kisses him cause he my bf (-compulsive liar)

People whispered about you. Spider people and the general public alike. Your city spreading gossip, rumours and misinformation to try and figure out who you were, but that was a Spiderwoman affair, every one of them dealt with it.

But having people same as you talk in hushed tones, glancing at you as you walked past. That’s a new kind of feeling.

The Spider Society didn’t exactly favour you, per se. There was nothing inherently wrong with you either, so no reason to get rid of you. But you were just so silent. No one knew a thing about you.

You mostly kept to yourself around base, never really trying too hard to make friends, you were well known enough not to be questioned. A loyal fighter was what you were recognised for, not your personality, your abilities.

There were still some people that managed to creep their way in though, their hearts so full of love, you didn’t know how to refuse them.

So you conceded. You let them in, and begged to any deity that would listen not to take them from you.

—

Hobie knew you as someone who could listen. Who understood him rather than challenged his beliefs. Not that he had any, but that was the point.

Your lack of input made him feel accepted in going on tangents of why he thought the way he did. And you just sat, and listened. A kind heart and an open mind.

Which eventually led to him falling for that kind heart. Tripping over his own feet to please your silent self. To get those small smiles or amused huffs out of you.

The occasional time you spoke to him, under hushed breaths and fond tones. God, he couldn’t take it.

The way your accent forms over each and every word, how your voice was akin to honey malt, sweet and addicting. Only giving him small doses, but he was the only one who got those doses. Only him, and you, and the words you spoke or times you listened.

He knows that people thought you were cold, or unloving. And maybe you were at first, maybe he thought you were. But he figured you out fast. Where you couldn’t talk, you could touch. Brushing your hands over his arm to get his attention. Linking your hand through his and dragging him away from people you don’t want to be near, he would smile down at you and follow along like a lost puppy. How your brows would crease a certain way, or nose would scrunch a little when you found distaste in things. He was a fool for you.

Where you lacked in verbal communication, you strived in every other category. So when some Spider-people decided to come to him, urging him for answers about you.

Telling him that he wasn’t sure you even wanted to be here—, Hobie would shut down the conversation quicker than thought to be possible. Giving a simple “She’s just quiet.”, and ditching the moment the words are out of his mouth.

It’d worked—, for a while. Ignoring the demeaning or conspiratorial comments made about you by spider-people a-kind. But eventually it got the better of him. Having him borderline snarl at the people who would talk shit right in front of his, or your, face.

“She’s silent, ain’t she?”

“Yeah. Peter 48 said she was like that ‘cause she killed her parents, made ‘er real quiet.”

“Jesus christ. Wouldn’t surprise me, she’s a freak.”

“Dude—“ One of the two spiders, the first one, turned to Hobie. Spider-senses ringing. Hobie stated back at them, deadpan and unblinking. “Don’t.”

The younger spider paled, quickly trying to backtrack.

“Hey— Hobie. I— Didn’t mean it. Was just repeating what I heard, ykno—“

“Cut it, mate.”

He squeaked, head tilting down in respect, the other spider following.

“Stop spreading shit rumours like ‘at. It ain’t fun when you’re the subject. ‘S it?”

“No.”

“Mm.”

Hobie walked past them smoothly, brushing shoulders with the kid just to scare him a little more. When he was far enough away, he heard them start to whisper to one another. “Fuck man, that was close. He could tell Miguel, and then we’d be out.”

“Jesus..”

He felt rather accomplished that day.

—

It was days later where you were brought up around him again. He’d been texting you, the upper half of his body hanging from Miguel’s platform, his wicks shifting every time he moved.

Miguel and Lyla were talking amongst themselves, clicking through holograms and sorting things out for potential anomalies.

Jess, Pavitr and Gwen had walked into the room chatting, Pav and Gwen expressing their excitement rather loudly.

He glanced up at them from his phone, you were still typing.

immm gonna b homein ten just be patient >:(

I’m patient 🦑

u werent 2 seconds ago

I don’t subscribe to consistency.

Or this slandering talk

ur consistently lame

also why squid

I’m never lame. Also, he’s cute

hes not real

Don’t do this me

reeeeeal tasty tho

What is wrong with you.

numnnum crunchhhh crrcchhh numnum ( > _ <)

Inhumane.

mmmmmm yummyyyy

He can’t die, he’s immortal

The ‘Texting’ bubble popped up on his screen.

“Hey, Hobie!”

Pavitr was running up to him, looking from his lowered position below the elevated platform.

He slipped further down the platform, slumping slowly as he greeted Pavitr upside down.

“Pav, my guy!”

Pavitr bounced on the balls of his feet, smiling wide at his friend.

“What’chu doing up there?”

His eyes darted to Miguel and Lyla, ending their conversation.

Smirking, he whispered to Hobie, “With the grump.”

Hobie snickered, gaining a disapproving look from Jess.

“Textin’ [Name].”

Just then, the next message from you showed.

immortal ??? how consistent of him to live

He grinned, typing back quickly while Pavitr eyed him knowingly.

He’s a squid, he’s more fluid than anything

ihu

terrivle joke

No, you don’t

And it was great

wtvr >:P

Hobie grabbed the ledge of the platform and swung down, landing softly in front of Pavitr and pocketed his phone.

“Glad ya ‘ere. Those two can’t keep it quiet, aye?” He said, pointing back towards Lyla and Miguel.

“They do argue very often.”

“Nah, Lyla don’t argue, mate. Just the hardass.”

Pavitr snorted and Hobie softly punched his stomach in jest, earning one from Pav to the chest, and starting a round of playful punching. Pavitr laughed as Hobie brought him into a headlock, scrunching his fist over the shorter man’s hair and rubbing it in.

They let up when they heard Lyla teasing Miguel for something again, giggling to each other at his expense.

He threw an arm over his fluffy haired friend and leaned his weight on him. Pav smiled up at him once more, brighter now. Before he could speak, Gwen’s voice echoed through the barren room.

“Same reason as you, I’m guessing.”

Hobie turned his head towards her, dropping himself off Pav and standing up straight again. Smiling at her as she reached him, and went in to hug her briefly. When they disconnected, he spoke again.

“Yeah—, No clue then, mini-punk.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Neither big bad has said nothin’ to me yet.”

“Seriously, are we going to skip over that?”

“Maybe they’re waiting until [Name] is here!” Pavitr chimed in.

“What does mini-punk even mean!”

“Not exactly, Pavitr.”

Jess, who now was standing next to Miguel, spoke.

The trio turned to face the two elder spider-people.

“Huh?”

“We wanted to have a discussion with the three of you—.” Miguel put his hands on his hips, authority that Hobie only saw as a challenge emanating from his figure.

“—Away from [Name], she’s already been consulted.”

Hobies eyes narrowed, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifting to something a lot less unfriendly, and a lot more cautious.

Jess caught wind of the younger man’s tense stature and shuffled forward a step, not unwilling to intervene.

“Nothing too bad, just—,” He paused for a moment, the dense light from the reflective floors making the contours of his face pop.

Hobie watched with batted breath, posture only slightly relaxing from the statement. The crease in his brows begging to be drawn, yet his pokerface was something to be beat.

“,—Addressing her.. lack of communication.”

A shiver raked down the brit’s body, physically restraining himself from chewing this man out with a rebuttal.

“Wha’ ‘bout it?”

His gruff voice was a stark indicator of his annoyance.

“Well, ignoring the rumours following her—,”

Hobie, the usually rather sensical man, was getting more agitated by the minute.

“,—We’ve noticed a certain independence that she holds. Something not many others do.”

The punk quirked a brow.

“So?” Gwen was the one to talk now.

“That doesn’t seem very serious, ‘f you ask me.” She laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. Something Pavitr seemed a tad scared to do. There was a lot of competition in the air right now, he wasn’t very competitive.

“Exactly, it’s not.”

Jess cut in, seeing how terribly Miguel started this conversation made her cringe.

“It’s not—, but,” She shook her head, hair falling prettily with every move. “,Her ‘independence’, has been more akin to ‘lack of teamwork’. In some cases.”

Gwen started to speak again, her eyebrows furrowed, just as Hobies now were. He was right about brewing with offence.

“So!—,” Jess cut her off before she could begin.

“So there’s no need for her to have distractions anymore. From now on, she will not be going on team missions. Just solo’s.”

“Wha—! You’re cutting her off?!”

“Gwen, it’s not like that.”

“Like hell it isnt! She’s a part of us!”

“Doesn’t this mean she’s going to be in more danger?” Pavitr spoke up, concerned.

“No— well, not unless—,”

“Unless!? You’ve gotta’ be kidding!” Gwen choked out.

“And what does ‘consulted’ mean! Did she agree to this?!—“

They continued to argue, Gwen and Pavitr advocating for your teamwork skills while Miguel and Jess had made up their mind.

“No communication,” He pinched the bridge of his nose “,Fuck off.” Hobie scoffed under his breath, turning to leave and storming out.

The voices of Miguel, Jess and his friends following him through the portal to you.

—

“You agreed to this?”

lIts not like they’re wrong, I just hold you all back.”

He huffed, exasperated. Not only were you putting yourself in danger, you were doing it alone. And letting some guy who has a borderline vendetta against teens be the call for it.

“Now, you know that’s not tr—“

His stern voice was cut off by the frown on your face quivering. A due sign of you nearing to cry.

“Oh, shit— C’mon dollface, c’mere.”

He sat down on your shared bed, scooting against the headboard and bringing you into his lap. A soothing hand ran over your back as you tried to reel in your embarrassment.

“I really didn’t mean to agree.”

Hobie sighed, pushing your head into his neck and watching how the rings adorning his fingers rose goosebumps in their path. “I know, sweet’eart.”

And he did know, the moment that it had been a meeting addressed solely with just Jess and Miguel, he knew that Peter had been excluded for a reason. That Miles had been sent after an anomaly as an unknowing distraction for Peter to chase after. He knew those two intimidated you. And the fear of parental disappointment was something they used on you—, young, sweet you. That only ever got hurt because she didn’t want her problems to hurt others, or herself.

You had opened up to him once. Told him what everyone twisted when they whispered sickening words. A story unlike the rumours crowding your reputation.

How no, you hadn’t killed your parents, or siblings, or whatever messed up thing people claimed of you.

You told him how you hadn’t been bitten yet. How, when your family was killed, you hadn’t had any powers. So you couldn’t save them. And it wasn’t even canon. Nothing could’ve stopped them from dying, but it didn’t have to happen. And that was the guilt that weighed on you. How no matter the hardships your parents put you through, a kid neglected of attention. You still would rather die a million times for them to live once.

And it’s all “would”, and never “can”.

Other spider-people don’t have to live with the fact their parents died for nothing. Was what you said. A messed up thought, no doubt. And one you felt guilty for. But the sole continuer of this sorrow-filled silence. Which has worked well enough to protect you so far, why is Hobie one to break that?

Because you love him, you guess.

His hands slid further down your back, resting on the curve of your waist in his lap.

His breathing soothed yours. The shuddering breaths you had been giving to stop your tears, also stopped.

“You wanna talk about your day instead, luv?”

“Yeah, thank you Hobie.”

“Love when you say my name, Babydoll. So pretty and sweet like that.”

Wrapping your hands around his lithe waist, you hummed. Beginning your recount of the day in the honeyed, reserved tone you’d always held.

—

Around half an hour had passed with Gwen arguing against Miguel before Peter showed up, Moles in tow.

“What’s all this about?” His slippers flopped when he walked and the baby carrier strapped to his chest shifted every time a sleeping MayDay squirmed to get comfortable.

“This—, This asshole!”

“Gwen.” Jess chastised her.

Gwen ignored it, pointing at Miguel accusingly. “—Kicked [Name] off the team!”

“Not kicked.”

“You said she wasn’t going with us anymore.”

Miles looked offended by the prospect. “Why?”

“She’s not kicked, she’s simply better off solo.”

“Oh, so it’s our fault then!”

“Gwendolyne.”

“All of you, stop.”

Peters voice ended the bickering, having learnt since fatherhood exactly how to use said voice. “We are not sending an 18 year old on solo mission against anomalies.”

“Since when did you have a say—“

“Miguel. You’re an idiot if you think i’m going to let that happen. That’s a kid.”

“She’s an adult.”

“When it’s convenient to you.”

Miguel pinched his nose bridge, growling under his breath. Jess spared a glance at him before wincing and backing down from the conversation.

“She doesn’t talk to people.”

“I’m sure she does, just not to you.” Gwen cut in.

“Yeah, her and Hobie talk a lot.” Miles prepped up on his toes. Pavitr smiled and hummed an agreement.

“Not that I’ve seen.”

Peter gave him another disapproving look. “Disregarding that. The fact you decided to not consult me on this decision is another reason that it’s not happening.”

“Consult? Like some council, please.” Miguel scoffed at him, rolling his eyes and turning to open a holographic tab.

“Yes, like some council. Someone’s gotta be the brains ‘round here.” The father joked, coddling MayDay as she cooed.

“I’m going to go inform [Name] the retraction of this decision.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oops too late, portals open.”

“Can I come with?” Miles jogged after Peter, hopping quickly through the portal, Peter, Gwen and Pavitr following. Not without Gwen flipping Miguel off as she went. “We’ll sort something out, she can go duos with Hobie.” Jess put a hand on his shoulder, watching as he stared off to where the portal had previously been with a sided expression before sighing.

“Yeah..”

“That went great.” Lyla dragged, popping up on Miguel’s shoulder.

“I’m a second away from shutting you off.”

The AI blew a raspberry at her companion, and disappeared.

—

He had went off on a tangent about some movie he saw, or song he’d heard. Hobie honestly couldn’t remember, he was too focused on you. The way your voice sounded, how open you were being with him when every now and then you would respond to him. The hearts in his eyes were probably from how heavy his own was beating. Staring at you like a sinner to a prophet.

You had moved down from his lap, now curled against his side, head leaning on his shoulder and hand resting on his chest. At some point, the movie you had been watching before Hobie showed up was unpaused, and serving as background noise for his quiet rambling.

Both of you pressed under a blanket to beat the cold, and the darkness outside your window being killed off by the lights strung across your room. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this cozy, this utterly comfortable.

Sparks of colour strung out of nowhere, neither of them really seeing it at first, up until it spat out Miles. He stumbled forward a little and went to greet you before taking on the scene. You and Hobie cuddled up on a bed, blanket wrapped around you both, fire going, people singing. He was exaggerating the last parts, but it felt necessary for something so unexpected.

“Hey—, guys.” The awkward teen managed, before Peter walked through the portal with the other two in tow.

“Woah, no mean to interrupt.”

Peter put his hands up in surrender. Hobie snorted, it wasn’t like you were incapable of affection, It just seems he was the only one who got it.

“I totally called it.”

“Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”

He pouted, before giggling and waltzing over to sit next to the both of you. Flopping down on the bed and turning to watch the TV.

“Oh my god, I love this movie!”

“Favourite character?” You inquired. A collective raise of eyebrows was shown throughout the room.

Gwen shuffling over to sit down as well, a baffled look on her face.

“The horse.”

“Pff- Max?” Hobie snorted at Pav. Giving the still rather confused Miles - Peter duo a reassuring smile. And greeting Gwen with a fist bump, she smiled wearily at him before her smirk filled out and she punched his arm in congrats.

Pavitr nodded and laughed, gasping excitedly when the scene on the lake showed up. “Perfect timing.”

You glanced up at Hobie, Miles and Peter finding somewhere to sit as well, talking quietly amongst themselves.

He smiled at you, bringing you in closer while Pavitr sat smug.

The air of confusion slowly dissipated into something accepting, none but Pavitr had really expected you to be so.. Open. But they came to find they didn’t exactly mind it.

—

Everyone had left by now, the knowledge that you didn’t have to go on dangerous missions alone anymore leaving Hobie satisfied and you comforted.

“You doin’ right, babe?”

“Yeah, Hobes.”

You gripped his shirt a tad tighter and yawned, eyes drifting more shut as the minutes ticked down. “Wanna go t’ bed?”

“We’re in bed, dummy.”

He shot you a playful look.

“Don’ ge’ smart with me, young lady.”

You smiled at him before he made the decision to shuffle you both down in bed to get comfortable, switching off the lights by the outlet. He moved back to you, letting his whole body rest near yours, and letting you initiate any contact wanted.

A leg wrapped around his, and your arm still picking the fabric of his shirt.

“Sleep, sweethear’.”

“Mhmmph.”

Hobies breathe lulled you to sleep, white noise against your racing thoughts. He watched you fall, your trust in him to keep you safe was enough to make a man weak. He smiled, looking out your shared window at the city life below.

No crime, no anomaly or misshaped villain could possibly drag him away from you.

—

BAMBAMBAM 🦑‼️

[lqveharrington]

Movie Night | M.M.

summary: you and miles having a movie date night <3

pairing: earth 1610!miles morales x fem!reader

warnings: (not proof read !!) making out, loads of fluff, no use of y/n, mama rio scolding the shit outta her son toward the end (trust me, it could’ve been more)

————

“I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much that it makes me sick..." The Morales’ television played 10 Things I Hate About You for the young couple watching the movie. You were watching intently, head resting atop of Miles’ chest while messing with the loose string on his shirt. Miles, on the other hand, chose to watch you and pay no attention to the movie you so desperately wanted to watch.

He had been watching you for most of the film, only returning his attention back to the movie when you flashed your eyes up at him.

“Miles, I can feel your stare.” You sigh, adjusting your head to rest your chin on his chest, staring back up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, mi vida.” He rubbed your back, “¿No se me permite mirar a mi hermosa amor?”

You scrunch your nose at the loss of understanding a different language. “Miles,” You gently smack his chest, “I understood amor.”

Miles squeezed your waist, “You’re adorable, you know that?’

Grumbling, you look at the screen again, hiding your red cheeks. “Just watch the movie, Morales.”

“Are we back on last name basis again? I thought we were past that.” He shifted to see your faux pouty face. “Aw.”

“Shut up.” You scoot up and bury your head in his neck, refusing to meet his eyes.

He let out a soft laugh, leaning his head back, “Why’re you hiding, mami?”

“You are so insufferable.” Your voice came out muffled. “You and your many, many nicknames.”

“You love my nicknames for you.” Miles continued to rub your back. “And you know I never say anything bad about you in Spanish.”

“What did you say then?”

He chuckled at you, “I said, Am I not allowed to look at my beautiful love?”

You push up on your elbows at the words, “You romanticist.”

“You love me.” He gave you a small smirk, cupping your cheek.

“Do I?” You melt into his hand. He raised his eyebrow at you.

“You know what? Yeah, I do.”

Miles gently brought your face closer to his, pulling you into a soft, needed kiss. You smile into his kiss, moving in sync with his own motions. The movie playing faded into white noise as you both made out, somehow switching positions, moving Miles on top of you.

“Miles,” You separated for a brief moment, needing to breathe. “What time is it?”

“Time is relative.” He pecked your lips, “So, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Ha ha.” You rolled your eyes but ended up being lip locked with your boyfriend again.

He had you trapped with his body, one hand by the curve of your waist and the other now by your neck. You, in a similar way, had your hands interlocked behind his neck pulling him impossibly closer.

However, the both of you being preoccupied, you didn’t realize that Miles’ parents had gotten home from their date night.

“MILES GONZALO MORALES. ¡SERA MEJOR BÁJATE DE ELLA, JOVEN!” Rio shoved her bag into a chair, hands on her hips.

“Shit!” Miles fell to the floor, accidently taking you down with him.

“Hey! Don’t use that language here.” Jeff scolded his son.

You stared at Miles and you both knew what was going to happen.

“We’re screwed.”

————

© lqveharrington — all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.

[luvjunie]

— sleepover

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

contains: fluffff! jeff and rio being realistic parents, miles being stubborn per usual

summary: miles’ parents finally agreed to letting the two of you have a sleepover, on one condition. however, miles was never the best at following directions. wc: 1,630

New york. The city that never sleeps.

The faint murmuring of bustling cars and the habitual honking of horns seeped through the tight seal of the shut apartment window; ironic in the way it somehow lulled you. An imperfect melody you welcomed—also the same one deemed a nuisance by those foreign to the chaos that naturally assimilated to comfort the longer you remained in Brooklyn. It usually helped you slip into a slumber with ease—but now— was succeeding in its attempt of doing the exact opposite.

And when you heard Miles expel a weighted, disgruntled sigh; you were led to believe the two of you had more in common with each other apart from the fact that you both lived here.

After weeks and weeks of begging, and endless explanations as to why exactly he needed his girlfriend to sleep over when they wouldn’t even get to utilize the time spent together because they were supposed to be asleep, Miles had finally convinced his mom and dad to let the two of you have a sleepover.

Fun, right?

Yeah, well you thought it’d be. Until his mom insisted the two of you bring your pillows and blankets and fantasies of your life as a matured couple to the living room and sleep out there. Six feet away from each other. You guys were practically social distancing like it was 2019 all over again.

The curt reasoning she offered included something about her not wanting the two of you in his room alone at night; not that she thought her son would actually be dumb enough to do anything along those lines with her in the house. You loved Mama Rio, but even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. This was her house, and that meant you had to follow her rules. The fact that you were even able to come over as much as you did was a blessing in itself, so you took everything else in stride.

Miles let you take the couch of course, and he was currently sprawled out on his back on the floor, a pillow tucked beneath his head as he studied the minuscule cracks in the ceiling as if they truly interested him. Scrolling through his instagram timeline had gotten old fairly quickly, and at 1:00AM in the morning, neither of you were really motivated enough for conversation.

You were more than grateful to spend a night with your boyfriend, but this wasn’t necessarily how you expected it to go. Whenever you guys would hang out during normal hours of the day, you’d always end up in his embrace, curled and cuddled into each other comfortably. Whatever movie or tv-show you’d put on in the background begging for the same attention you’d give each other. After growing used to such a routine, that was really the only way you could fall asleep at his house.

But alas, holding your pillow close to you instead of him would have to suffice, you decided, as you let your eyes close once again.

“Baby?” Miles called out into the darkness, lip chewed in anticipation.

Silence.

He’d said only a word but you knew better than to engage. A conversation would end up with the two of you in trouble in the morning, so you pretended to be asleep.

“I know you’re awake. I counted exactly three seconds between your last two breaths and when you’re asleep it slows down to five.”

You stifled a laugh, ultimately blowing your cover. “Okay, now that’s just creepy.”

“People who are asleep don’t laugh!” he quipped.

A smile snuck onto your lips and you hadn’t the heart to reprimand it, lids peeling back open to stare up at the same ceiling he was.

“Yes, Miles?”

“Can you not fall asleep either, or have I become an insomniac all of a sudden?” The question came with a sigh, long arms spread to their full wingspan as he tried to count how many full rotations the ceiling fan made in a minute. That was how bored he was.

You sighed disappointedly, toying with the frayed tassels on your blanket. A moue on your face. “No, I can’t fall asleep either.”

“I think I know why.” he sung the last word in suggestion, hands absentmindedly drumming against his abdomen.

“Miles,” you warned, letting your head fall to the side so you could stare at the top of his head and address him directly. “Your mom gave very specific instructions, and personally, I would like to return home to mine with my head still on my shoulders.” grumbling your response, you shoved down the urge to invite him up there with you like your mind was telling you to.

He propped himself up on an elbow at that, eyes immediately making contact with yours. Your first mistake was not looking away, because those pretty pools of hazel were already starting to convince you and he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet.

“But how is that fair?” he complained, sounding exasperated. “We take naps together all the time when you’re here, I just wanna cuddle with you.” he sulked, as if you were the one who’d come up with the rule. Never in a million years would you submit the both of you to this kind of torture. You loved falling asleep in his arms.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Well, yeah. But that’s during the day, when she can check on us anytime she wants to. I don’t think your mom wants us that close to each other at night for,” The last part of your sentence faded to a jumbled murmur as your gaze traveled back to the ceiling. “…obvious reasons.”

He impishly raised a brow as if he didn’t know what you were referring to, chin resting in the palm of his hand. With only the faded lights of the city to illuminate the living room, the cheeky smile on his face went unnoticed, though you could hear it in the tone of his voice, loud and clear.

“And what reasons are those?” Miles asked, feigning innocence. His long lashes blinking at you.

Hand smacking to your forehead, you recited a silent prayer, a plea for strength. It was beginning to look like you weren’t going to get yourself out of this. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His hand gestured to the air, plainly. “Well obviously. But still, we’re not dumb. That’s why I always take you to the roof when we—“

“Miles Gonzalo Morales do not finish that sentence!”

He snorted at the squeak of your voice and you used your pillow to hide your heated face.

“This is not going to help us fall asleep.” your irritated statement was muffled from the fabric of the pillowcase.

He hummed. “Exactly, meaning there’s only one thing left to try.” Slow to catch on, you didn’t realize what he meant until you felt the couch dip from the weight of his knee.

A hand trickled up the exposed skin of your thigh and it stopped when it met your sleep-shorts clad hip, the pillow snatched from your face and tossed onto the floor where he previously resided just a second ago.

“What are you—?”

He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the cushion beside your waist to hold himself up. Your question fell short when he swiftly parted your legs with his other hand and comfortably slotted his body between your thighs. A relieved sigh escaped him, his cheek nuzzling into the soft of your chest when he laid on top of you. His favorite way to cuddle.

“Shhh, trying to sleep.” murmuring a dismissive answer to your query, he let his eyes flutter to a close and snaked his arms around your waist, forearms cradling the curve of your back.

Contrary to the fight you were putting up just a minute ago— your arm curled over the expanse of his shoulders, fingers idly twirling at the baby curls that dusted the nape of his neck, something you always did to help him fall asleep faster. He let out a low, satisfied sound and relaxed into you completely, his hold on you tightening. While a part of you wanted to protest, an even bigger part wanted to remain under him like this. His weight was comforting; made you feel secure in the way a weighted blanket did.

“Your mom is not going to be happy with us.” you reminded him, stretching your other arm down enough to grab your blanket and pull it up over the two of you.

“It’s worth it. I’ll happily take the blame,” he drawled sleepily, snuggling in closer to the kiss that grazed his forehead. “I love you…” The laggard pace to his words let you know he was already dozing off, and you smiled, fatigue finally catching up with you too.

“I love you, Miles.”

— extra scene

Jeff stood in silence, arms folded over his broad chest and lips puckered awkwardly. Rio occupied the space next to him, hands perched on her wide hips, fingers tapping against them and her jaw clenched in disapproval. Her expression was everything but amused at the scene in front of them. He stole a tactful glance at his wife every two seconds, silently trying to gauge how irritated she was without having to ask her.

Sometime during the night you and Miles had switched places, and now his lanky legs were draped over the arm of the small couch and you were on top of him, clung to his body like a wet T-shirt, face barely visible seeing as it was nestled into the crook of his neck. With his mouth hanging slack as he loftily snored, Rio felt her eye almost twitch while she stared down at her stubborn son, who seemed to have magically teleported from his assigned spot on the floor and into yours instead.

“Well, I coulda told’ya that would happen.” Jeff said quietly with a laid-back shrug, to which Rio responded with a back-handed swat to his chest.

“Ow!”

Through her aggravation she still kept her voice low as to not wake the two of you, eyes narrowed at her husband. “I am going to strangle this boy, Jeff. Dios ayudame. ¡Tu hijo nunca escucha! (God help me, your son never listens!)” she griped, gesturing towards Miles’ arm that was loosely circled around your waist. She tramped down the hall, hands tossed up in defeat while she grumbled something incoherent under her breath.

Lips downturned into an offended frown, Jeff coddled his chest with his palm and followed after her, voice kicked up an octave like a nagging child. “Why is he only my son when he does something you don’t like? We made him together!”

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