#ATSV miles morales

[laaailuh]

hiii, i love your stuff! I was wondering if you can do a fic about miles getting upset because reader is getting too much attention from other guys on a post 😺

"Delete it."🕸️🕷️

ㅤ

pairing: e!42 miles x black!reader

warnings: light swearing, argument, possessiveness

Summary:  Miles gets upset because you're receiving too much attention from other guys on a bikini post.

a/n: im trying to get these requests done

I saw it, you can delete it now

ㅤ

???

ㅤ

your new post

ㅤ

hell nah 💀

Seen

Incoming facetime call from Miles💕

ㅤ

“So you gon' delete it or not?"

“Why would I do that?”

“Cause niggas are commenting some crazy shit and ion like dat.”

“I can't tell if you’re actually being serious right now.”

“Dead ass.”

“Well, I’m not deleting it.”

He rubbed his face in frustration. “I'm not tryna argue with you baby.”

“Then don't?”

“Look, the way these guys are talking under there is making it seem like they don't know you wit' someone."

“I'm sure they do, I tagged your account on my boobs.”

He scrunched his face and then opened up your post again.

“Oh shit, you did.”

You rolled your eyes, "Yeah dumbass."

“Ight, what if you disable the comments?”

“Bye Miles.” You said and hung up the call.

This nigga really don't give up.

As you were wiping off your makeup, you heard your bedroom door open.

"Yo."

Turning your head towards the voice, you saw your boyfriend standing next to the doorway.

"Who let you in?"

"Your mamma did."

You turned your head back around, facing your vanity.

He sat on the edge of your bed. "I'm sorry about earlier, I realized I was being possessive and controlling."

"Damn right."

He turned your chair sideways, "It’s hard to apologize if you're not looking at me Ma."

You sighed and put your wipes down.

"I bought your shein and sephora cart, should be coming in two weeks or so."

A genuine smile spread across your lips, "You did?"

"Wow, look who's smilin'? Hopefully you can drop this little attitude f'me then."

"You know I was gonna forgive you either way? Kinda just played your self right there."

Miles grinned and pulled you onto his lap.

"Mhm...did I mention how sexy you looked in those photos?"

You shook your head.

He took your hand and kissed your knuckles. "Bueno, te lo digo ahora, princesa." (Well i'm telling you now, princess.")

[parasiticstars]

Miles doing the “hey” shoulder touch to Hobie is great amazing genuinely 10000/10

HOWEVER

Imagine Hobie, unprompted, doing it to MILES, and the last thing Miles can squeak out before promptly exploding is “uncle Aaron was right”

[crowsmurderz]

early design concept for tsv posters!!

(© craig mullins)

[appleblueberry-pie]

I just read through all your 42 Miles posts and I am going to explode. I swear, I’m so obsessed he looks shy in comparison. On that note, what if the reader finds out about his yandere behavior…and is perfectly fine with it. Maybe they even encourage it, giggling like a schoolgirl when they catch him following them home and giving him extra kisses when he tells them how he killed the guy who flirted with them. Definitely not just describing myself here-

I LIKE IT. JUST A LITTLE BIT<3

Miles gets greedy when it comes to you. He shouldn't, but he just hates sharing. So, using the tools he has, he gets rid of all possible competition. It's dangerous, it's reckless, and it's not smart to do, but you make him do stupid, dangerous and reckless things. Can you blame him? You're everything he's ever asked for in a girl.

So sweet to him, giving him all of your attention whenever you can. Texting him often, reciprocating his energy and letting him give the love and energy he feels you deserve. And you deserve every drop of his energy.

But sometimes, he takes it too far. He's been mean-mugging everyone lately. His friends don't like him as much because they say he's been paranoid over 'some random bitch he be talkin to'. And he doesn't let things like talking behind his back, or yours, be taken lightly. Which is why they don't talk to him the next day, or the day after that.

And it's also why people don't talk to you anymore either. Or any of your male friends. Or your girl friends.....he drove them all away. Every time someone sees you, he's not too far behind. And you don't do a damn thing about it. Which causes rumors to spread, but they die as quickly as they fire up. Because he always finds the source before shit goes south. Still, you don't do a damn thing about it.

You don't necessarily encourage him to do it, but he always gets the same amount of love from you whether he gives hell to everyone else or not. So, he keeps doing it. If he wants all of you, he's going to have all of you.

If someone asks about you in a crooked tone, he gets iffy about it, and now they scared. If someone mentions your name, their feeling that sharp stare on the back of their neck, telling them to let their tongue slip one more time. Everyone's getting the hint and he'll make sure of it.

You always smile looking back at him when he follows you in the hallways or when he's following you home.

You let him give you overly-obsessive notes in your locker. You let him like all of your stories, all of your posts. You let him stalk every single one of your socials and even the ones no one is supposed to know abut. You let him blow up your phone.

When he finally has the courage to talk to your face, you two have been by each other's side like glue. You let him whisper in your ear when he doesn't want a damn soul to hear what you guys are talking about. You let him buy you lunch every day. He always holds your hand tight as shit when walking you to class. He can be a little late. He does almost everything for you. He's real good at helping you with homework(and getting rid of niggas that bother you), and it makes your stress load so much lighter.

He's such good boyfriend material.

[alisblackgf]

YO ZAC WELCOME BACKKKKK,

But yk I got a request 🤞🏽

Earth-42!Miles with fem!spider-reader

Like reader was from 1610!miles universe but when he went to earth-42 she went with him and maybe like there was a prowler!reader in 42!miles universe but she died and hes like “look at the power you had here…with me”

(The rest up to you…yk how I like it zacy 😏)

YEAH OFC <3

𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: earth-42!miles x fem!spider!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst(?)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in his universe, you’re dead. it’s not fair that some inferior version of him gets to have you alive and well while he’s stuck grieving you. he makes it his number one priority to show you what you could have with him. what you had.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: inhales exhales i don’t like this and idk if i did him justice but HOPEFULLY I DID. it’s a little messy idk if i did this right HELO i hope you like it anyway (shout out to rae for helping me with the spanish 🫶)

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: hermosa - beautiful; tú eras mi vida y mi mundo - you were my life and my world; mi amor - my love

you woke up in a daze.

your surroundings were dark with only a little illumination coming from a small window. you tried to get up, but you were quickly dragged back down to notice you were tied to a pole. the more you pulled against it (to no avail), the more you lost hope.

you took a shaky breath and looked around the room to find miles tied up on a punching bag. he didn’t look conscious. his head is hung low and you could barely see his closed eyes. your heart dropped and made it your mission to get his attention.

“miles? miles!”

then, your spidey-sense goes off.

you hear footsteps drawing closer and closer to you, and you desperately try to break free from the pole.

“i wouldn’t wake him just yet, hermosa.”

your eyes widened as you looked back at miles, who was still knocked out. you were extremely confused at who was talking to you. they sounded just like your miles, but it wasn’t. you were about to speak, but then the mystery person came out of the shadows and kneeled down to see you.

it was..miles? but not your miles for sure. this miles had braids, and judging from the term of endearment he called you earlier, he could for sure roll his r’s. he gently took your face in his hands and scanned you for any sign of injury. when he makes sure you’re fine, he smiles at you.

“you’re just as beautiful as i remember,” he says.

“i’m sorry?” you ask, seeing as you’ve never met him in your life.

he sighed at your words and untied you from the pole. when your hands are free, you rub your wrists in an attempt to ease the soreness that enveloped them. you tried to shoot a web, but you soon notice that your web-shooters are gone.

“c’mon, mami, you don’t think i’m dumb, do you?” he chuckles at your attempt before untying your feet, and you stretched your legs in response. once he’s up, he holds out his hand to you. you hesitantly accept. he helps pull you up from the floor and you dust yourself off.

he looks at you before asking, “i’m assuming your name is (y/n)?”

you nod in response, looking a little concerned before saying, “how’d you know?”

“because that’s what my girl’s name was, and you look and sound just like her.”

“your girl?” you ask curiously. he nods and shows you a polaroid picture of him and a girl. he was right, she looked exactly like you. “why isn’t she here?”

his facial expression went from relaxed to serious. he sighed before speaking, “she’s dead.”

your eyes widen. you know you’re not his (y/n), but hearing that a version of you is dead sends shivers down your spine.

“tú eras mi vida y mi mundo, (y/n). you were taken from me for the same reason you save people now.”

“and what’s that?”

“your compassion,” he says with a slight bitterness to his tone. “you cared so much for people. too much. i shouldn’t have let you out of my sight.”

you listened eagerly. even if she wasn’t you necessarily, you were still curious to hear how a variant of you died.

you put your hand on his shoulder and nodded, and he took it as a sign to continue.

“we were handling business. two guys had crossed us. i was taking care of one, you were with the other. he was begging for his life, and you showed him kindness and spared him. then, he..”

you could hear his breathing getting shaky, and you began to rub his shoulder.

“you don’t have to finish, i— i get the gist of it,” you assure him.

he nods and pulls you into a hug. you hesitantly hug him back, feeling bad for him. once you wrap your arms around him, he whispers to you, “i’m never letting you out of my sight again, mi amor.”

your breath hitches and your eyes widen.

“i’m so, so sorry for your loss, miles. but i’m not her. i don’t belong here,” you try to reason. you hear shuffling on the punching bag and you can see miles—your miles—stirring awake.

“miles! you’re okay!” you gently move the other miles off of you and run to your miles.

“for the most part,” he tries to joke.

“i don’t think you get it,” earth-42 miles begins to speak. you turn away from your miles to look at the other one. “you had so much power with me, (y/n).”

“what’s this dude on about?” earth-1610 miles whisper-asks you, but all you can do is shrug in response to him.

“look, i’m sorry that your girlfriend died, but i’m not her, and i never will be,” you spat, getting annoyed.

“i’ll give you two options,” the other miles begins. “you can die with bug-boy here, or you can come rule the streets with me.”

your eyes widen as he walks over to you guys, now in a prowler suit. he puts his gauntlet on and shoves you out of the way, putting his hand around your miles’ neck, choking him.

“pick your poison, mami. let’s hope you make the right choice.”

I REALLY HOPE I DID HIM JUSTICE OMG

tags: @pr0wlerpunk

[incognito-duo]

Do you ever think about. About how Jeff looks at Miles and sees Aaron? A creative and mischevious boy in a unkind world? Do you think about how maybe Jeff sees Miles hide his sketchbook and come home with spray paint on his fingers, 30 minutes pass curfew, and he wants to scold him but just can't cus he sees the boy Aaron used to be before they grew distant? You think he saw that shift in Miles after Aaron's death, that heavy look in his son's eyes, the same way his brother had? A bit wary, a bit too anxious - you think he gets scared that Miles' eyes will soon turn cold like Aaron's? You think he saw Miles' eyes in Aaron's when he found him in the dark alleyway, you think when he held his cold body he saw the little boy he grew up with?

You think Aaron in Earth 42 sees Jefferson in Miles G? He sees that overtly serious young man his brother was in the way Miles has his back too straight, his smart mouth and sass resulting in funny comebacks and witty comments just like his brother used to do. You think he sees that same raw urge to help that Jeff had in his nephew's eyes? The sorta urge to help that'll get you killed? You think he sees Jefferson's mural and thinks about how Miles has the same forehead, the same eyes? Do you think he worries about the spark in Miles' eyes blowing out like Jeff's did? You think he sees Jeff as a lil boy again every time Miles comes back from a successful mission as the Prowler - so bright, like he's reaching too close to the sun?

You think Jeff thinks about his son and wants to tell Aaron, "He's so much like you. I don't want that." You think Aaron wants to tell Jeff the same about his nephew? You think deep down they want that more than anything? You think they see the other when they look in the mirror, when they look at Miles? You think they're hoping that Miles could be better than either of them, that he'll be just fine?

I do.

[coreyis-awesome]

What!!! Pretty boy Alert!!!

😱 wooaww!!

[chion3spid3r]

dating prowler miles

pairings : e42!miles x fem!reader

warning : possessiveness, suggestive, suggestive talks, competitiveness, emotional talks

summary : what’s like to be the girlfriend of Miles

wc : 2.2k

a/n : if I did e1610!miles, I need to do e42!miles obviously.

bf!miles who would who will intimidate any man who approaches you with just a glance—a skill honed from years of being street-smart and cautious. One evening, your boyfriend Miles is hanging out with you when a guy you knew said hi. Without hesitation, he shoot the guy a quick, icy stare. Miles, always protective, make the guy run far from the two of you,

"Miles, damn he's my cousin!" Miles looks sheepish for a moment, then can't help but chuckle nervously at the misunderstanding. "My bad, babe. You know I gotta keep you safe though," he says, half-jokingly, knowing your ability to handle yourself but still wanting to look out for you.

bf!miles who would whisper to you spanish sweet nothings. Though Miles projects a tough guy image on the streets, he has an incredibly gentle side that only you get to see. Every night as you lay cuddled up in his arms, he murmurs tender Spanish endearments and flirty phrases in your ear. His voice is deep and soothing, the cadences and lilts of the Spanish words wrapping around you like a warm blanket. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the rumbling timbre of his voice lull you into a state of complete security and peace.

bf!miles who would bring you to arcade dates. Miles can be incredibly competitive, especially when it comes to video games. He loves taking you to the local arcade for dates and showing off his gaming prowess. He gets an adorable swell of pride on his face when he's dominating the high scores on his favorite games. One evening, however, you ended up beating not just his high score but his skills overall on the arcade's most popular game. Miles' jaw dropped and he tried to play it cool, insisting he'd never really practiced that game before. But you could see the look of shocked impressed behind his eyes,

bf!miles who would give you late night visits. After his nightly patrols, Miles often finds himself tapping at your bedroom window in the early hours of the morning. He'll slip inside, wearing prowler suit and looking exhausted. For Miles, these quiet, intimate moments are a sanctuary where he can be vulnerable and find comfort and solace after a difficult patrol.

"Sorry for waking you up, ma" he'll murmur contritely, running a hand through his messy braids. But you don't mind at all - in fact, you live for these late night visits. You guide him over to the bed and gently massage the tension from his shoulders and back as he recounts the events of his night.

bf!miles who would let you doing his hair braiding ritual. Miles takes great pride in his thick, braided hair and sees it as part of his identity. However, he only allows you and his mama to touch and style it - a sign of his deep trust.

Some evenings you'll sit on the bed behind him, carefully parting and braiding his hair, though your braiding skills admittedly still need some work. Miles will playfully wince and tease "Damn ma, you tryna rip my whole head off?" when you tug a little too hard on a section. But he remains patient, gently guiding your hands and giving you tips, until eventually the braid is neatly completed.

bf!miles who would never leave you with only a peck, for him, you directly make out. When Miles is feeling that fire for you, he doesn't hold back. His kisses start off soft and sweet but quickly deepen into something passionate and hungry.His intensity and desire for you is palpable and intoxicating.

When you look especially hot to him, he won't let you out. If you try to pull away, breathless, he growls "Stay right there, ma. Can't let you get away when you look that hot." He pulls you flush against his body, roaming hands leaving a trail of heat over your skin.

bf!miles who would discover secret places and bring you to them after he foud hem. In his nightly prowls around the city as the Prowler, Miles has discovered countless hidden gems - tucked away rooftops, winding alleyways, secret urban gardens and more. Whenever you've had a particularly stressful day, he'll surprise you by taking you on an impromptu exploration of these secret spots. Seeing the wonder and forgotten beauty of these places through Miles' perspective reminds you that even in the darkest of times, there's always light and enchantment to be found if you know where to look.

bf!miles who would buy you matching jordans. Both of you love to stunt, especially when it comes to your fresh kicks. One day Miles surprises you with a pair of brand new limited edition Jordans - except there's two pairs, one for each of you. He loves any opportunity to show the world that you're his girl. Rocking those matching kicks together is like a subtle claim staking your status as a couple.

bf!miles who wouldalways be a flirtatious teaser. Miles, before you two became a couple, loved to tease and get a riled reaction out of you. Whether it's mocking your Spanish accent (despite the fact that he has one too) or sneaking up behind you to grip your hips and press himself against you, he's constantly pushing your buttons in that flirtatious way of his. Part admiration, part purely carnal desire, Miles never lets too much time pass without reminding you just how much he wants you.

"You know how Latinas turn me on, ma. And you ain't no exception," he'll murmur in your ear, his voice dropping into that deep, rumbly register that makes you shiver.

bf!miles who would let you makeup him despite his boredom. Miles projects a tough, macho image, so you're surprised when he begrudgingly agrees to let you experiment with makeup on him one day.

As you start applying foundation, he's already fidgeting and groaning. "Ma, you really gotta do that shit?" he protests, flinching when you get too close to his eyes with the brushes.

You laugh at his reaction. "Hold still, tough guy. Don't be such a baby about it."

Miles grumbles under his breath but remains on the bedr, letting out exaggerated sighs and complaints like "This makeup shit is for real uncomfortable" and "How do y'all deal with this every day?"

When you finally get to the false lashes, Miles outright balks. "Oh hell no, there's no way you're putting those spidery things anywhere near my eyes!"

You pout at him until he reluctantly gives in with an eye roll. "Aiight, aiight, just get it over with quick."

As you meticulously apply the faux lashes, Miles stays uncharacteristically still and tense, grousing things like "This better not leave me with no lashes after" and "Not a damn word about this to the guys, a'ight?"

Once it's all done, he examines his made-up look in the mirror, trying to play it cool even as you catch him giving a subtle smile.

Ⓡ chion3spid3r all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

[anonymousqualities]

Miles, high off pain meds while in Med-bay from a recent mission:

Pavitr, recording on his phone: "Hey, Miles! 'Fuck, Marry, Kill' Me, Gwen & Hobie-GO!

Miles, not missing a beat: Fuck Hobie, marry Hobie, Kill miguel.

Miguel:

Miguel: (sighs tiredly as Peter B's laughter echoes from down the hall)

[moralesluvr]

𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

୧ ‧₊˚ arguing with your boyfriend, miles, was always your least favorite thing. but when he accidentally raises his voice at you, accusing you of something you’re not, he'll do anything to make it up to you. so, he decides to come to your work. pairings & aus. earth42!miles morales x fem!black!reader warnings. angst | established relationship | fluff at the end | arguing | slight toxicity | arguing | reader owns a cafe author's note. changed the aesthetic of my posts!

"MAMI, PLEASE, IAN MEAN IT LIKE THAT."

The way your glossy eyes roll to the back of your head only further induce your oncoming headache, but you don’t care. Something about your boyfriend elevating his tone at you made you crumble, brown irises boring into his own as he pleaded for you to listen.

You hear him breathe softly, and then he picks at the calloused skin of his thumb as his mouth contorts into an almost-pout. It’s apologetic, you think— by the way his eyebrows are furrowed and his face somberly melts into a softer expression, contrasted to his normal stoic one. But his look isn’t enough. You want something verbal, something pleading, something so desperate for your forgiveness that it’ll be inevitable for your answer to be ‘Yes, Miles, you didn’t do anything wrong and I would love for us to be back to normal.’

But that’s not what you were getting.

Instead, he had yelled at you, and not just a normal yell, one that he would normally let out if you were pestering him or were about to run into an unknown danger. No— this yell was authentic and real, raw, on purpose. And his lips still couldn’t find themselves to say that he were sorry.

The argument wasn’t even your fault, and Miles had told you so, therefore it was verified that you weren’t in the wrong and that it was just some huge misunderstanding. Your phone had been left unlocked on the kitchen counter, and Miles being Miles, he picked the device up and snapped a couple of stupid pictures when he saw a notification pop up.

malachi: Yo u still wit yo man? I was thinking we go get sum to eat. Lmk!

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that the message wasn’t from another girl, it was from a man. So he angrily swiped the device up and waltzed up to you, waving the florescent screen back in forth in your face, accusing you of cheating.

“YN, what the fuck? Why you tryna go out with this nigga, huh? He hittin’ it or sum’? Shoulda known you had me buyin’ them lil’ dresses for other reasons.”

Your shoulders dropped at him, tears clouding your unfocused vision as Miles’ words circulated in your head, swarming your conscience with emotions that you were unable to decipher yourself.

“Mami—“

“Don’t call me that.” You seethed, “It’s not what you called me when you was accusin’ me of lyin’ and cheatin’, right?”

“Ay, Dios Mío.” Miles mumbled, his footsteps filling your ears as he drew closer to you. He wanted to reach out to you, to pull you close and kiss your cheeks, but he just stood idly in front of you as he watched you cry.

It was almost like he was stuck. Guilt, maybe?

But either way, the effort was still vacant. His actions weren’t just mundane, he was shaking your phone at you angrily, spit flying and hands snapping as he tried to grab ahold of the messy situation. And what he realized what he had done, his mouth ran dry, eyes fluttering closed as he cursed underneath his breath.

What he didn’t know was that you were speaking to your friend’s boyfriend, and when he said ‘we’— he meant the four of you, Miles included. He was trying to set up a double date at a restaurant and wanted to confirm if you were with Miles to insure that you guys were on.

A stupid mistake.

A mistake so ignorant that it drove you to raise your hand at him, withdrawing it before slapping him on the cheek, hard. The sting that blossomed throughout your hand spoke of triumph, that he truly got what deserved, and your lips nearly curled into a smile when you heard him wince in pain.

You didn’t want him hurt, you just wanted him to understand what happens when you assume stupid shit. He turned around slowly to look at you, left hand massaging the flesh of his cheek as he gave you apologetic eyes.

It all feels like an emotional whiplash now.

“Get out.”

You finally spoke, lips trembling and hands balling at your sides so tight you were sure your fingers would snap.

“Baby, please, can we just talk about this?”

“Get the fuck out, Miles!” You shouted at him, body forcefully colliding with his as your hands met his shoulders, pushing him into the woodwork of your front door. He opens it without hesitation, fingers curling around the doorknob shakily as he walked through the doorway.

You hold the door and shove him, your boyfriend stumbling down the porch steps as you cock your head to the side,

“And don’t come back.”

With that, you slam the door.

It’s been three days since you’ve seen your boyfriend.

Which is extremely out of the ordinary.

He’s texted you numerous times, your phone nearly exploding from how often it rang with new texts or phone calls. You didn’t answer, you couldn’t, Miles’ words still prodding at your heart strings as you tried to go on about your morning.

Your bright pink polo slides it’s way over your head, thick curls bouncing against your shoulders as you smoothed out a tiny wrinkle at the collar, eyes picking apart your outfit in the mirror.

A flick of your wrist tells you that you’re nearly late for work, so you swipe up your phone and purse and make your way outside, strutting to your car as you drove to your shop.

You opened your own pink themed, healthy cafe a couple months before you and Miles started dating. It was a real hotspot— business booming more than ever in the hot, humid summer of Brooklyn. People mostly ordered juice or açaí bowls, which you didn’t mind because it was your personal favorite on the menu and you recommended it to anyone who waltzed into your shop.

Pulling up, you stepped out of your vehicle and opened the door, greeting your employees with a flutter of your fingers and a superficial smile painted on your face. You were broken on the inside and it was a fact that even you couldn’t deny, and no amount of concealer and fake grins could conceal that.

“Everything OK, girl?” One of your employees chirped at you over the loud sound of a blender. And you just shrugged at her, faux smile still possessive over your lips, persuasion eventually casting her spell on your favorite girls as you covered your sadness up with ‘I’m just tired.’

Opening was running smoothly, and you were calming working register when you heard the sweet bells above your front door chime.

“Welcome i-“

Your sentence fades, dying off as you see your boyfriend walk through the door, walking up to the counter that you were standing behind.

“Can I get a matcha and that toast with the…what is that…the green shit on it?”

You grit your teeth at him, “Miles, what the hell are you doing here?”

He didn’t say anything, he just grabbed your hands and squeezed them, “Baby, I know you don’t really wanna see me here, but I need to say sum’, and it’s that I’m sorry. Ian mean what I said, I was dumb, jumpin’ to conclusions and shit. That’s not okay. You my girl and there’s no reason why I was treatin’ you like that. I’m…mami, I’m sorry.”

Miles stares at you, waiting for your rebuttal to his formal apology. No matter how much you wanted to be mad at him in this moment and hold out, you couldn’t by the way his eyes flickered at you, licking his lips as he shot you an apologetic smile.

“Miles….” You started, “What you said really hurt me, I can’t lie to you. But…despite all of that, I forgive you. And y’know, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have put my hands on you or nun’ like that. I was just…angry.”

“Understand.” Miles told you, kissing your hand as he gave you a cheeky grin, “I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you too, asshole.” You giggled as your boyfriend leaned over the counter to deliver a kiss to your cheek, a couple of your coworkers giggling behind the counters, but you didn’t care. You were just ecstatic that you had made up, a laugh tumbling from your throat.

“Y’know, Miles…” You started, earning a hum from your lover.

“I just want you to know, although you be actin’ hard…you’re actually soft as shit.”

tags!: @queenesther996 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji // @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @calliarlerte // @pr0wlerpunk // @tzuyuzzs // @clearskiiiess // @vienreina // @pixqlsin // @stvrgrl // @zerosinterweb // @mookiebut // @urmotherswhor3 // @cumbermovels // @asmobeuses // @yanghees // @popeheywardssecretgf // @mxspiderman2099 // @scryarchives // @rksses // @mmst4rz // @ilyless // @milesmolasses // @laylasbunbunny // @all444miles // @thecoloredpages // @bl00dsuccker // @adoremvney // @anikaluv // @qtdenks // @art-598

[all444miles]

can you do miles with and earthy black girl! Like I can see him wanting her nose rings, and accessories but don’t get me started on how he SIMPS for her waist beads. He loves seeing her at school with her hair wrap and locs and her lavender and coco sent, she’s a calm person to!

thank you so much for your AMAZING work God bless❤️❤️❤️❤️

— DOWN TO EARTH

— pairing: both miles' x black!earthy!fem!reader — genre: fluff — summary: what its like for both miles' to date an earthy girl ‹3 — a/n: quick note, the reader calls 1610 miles "bambi" as a nickname becuase he reminds her of a baby deer ‹3 (credits to my pookie for that !!) — a/n 2: I didn't know which miles you meant, so i just did both 😭 also pretend that brooklyn visions academy doesnt have a uniform.. i was tired writing this so im rlly rlly RLLLY sorry if this is bad but, i hope you like this, and enjoy !! ‹3

E-42 MILES

Miles loves being in your room. the smell of burning coconut incense, the look of your fairy lights, the small plants, it felt so chill, so peaceful. he liked that.

he always knows which incense you've used, and will pick up if you've changed them. He'll buy you some if you need any more.

"You got rid of the coconut incense? Mami, that one was my favorite." "Baby, I only have one pack left." "Oh? Aight, i'll buy you some tomorrow."

he'll never tell you, but if he misses you, he'll listen to your favorite songs that you'd always hum to yourself when you two are alone.

does he like Erykah Badu? Yes, yes he does. he'll listen to Green Eyes on his missions with his uncle whenever he gets the chance.

his uncle caught him once; one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.

"Kid, you listenin' Erykah Badu? Ian know you into allat." "Yo chill, it's only cuz my girl like her." "Mhm. You sure you my nephew or am I trippin?" "Tio, let's just roll."

he's loves to cuddle with you, especially cause you always smell like lavender. he won't let you go either.

"Miles, I gotta get some food." "Nuh, in a minute." "Hun, you done said that 2 minutes ago." "Exactly, in a minute. I like being here."

absolutely in love with your waist beads. he loves the jewllery you were (you both have matching necklaces), but your waist beads? goes absolutely crazy whenever you wearing a crop top and you have them on.

one time you two were at a beach and you wore them with your bikini, he might as well have fell in love with you all over again. bro has his hands on your waist the whoooleee time.

"Princesa, never take off your waist beads." "Why? You like 'em?" "¿Gustarme? Chica, Dios mío, estoy enamorada de ellos." (Like them? Girl, my god, i'm in love with them.) "Miles!" "What? I'm just appreciating my queen n her style, ion see no problem."

E-1610 MILES

Miles is obsessed, like, obsessed, with your style.

if you two live close, he'll style your locs and do your head wrap for you before school.

if not, he'll come to school excited to see your ootd. that is, as if you don't send them to him everyday before school.

"You look gorgeous in your outfit, amor." "Thank you Miles. You do know i already showed you it before school, right?" "So? It's always better to see my wife's outfits in person." "Bambi, you so corny."

he draws you, all the time. look through his sketchbook and you'll find drawings of his friends from the spider society, his uncle, and thousands of you.

Instead of doing what his twin does, when he misses you, he'll draw you. He misses you a lot.

"Baby, can I see your sketchbook?" "..Uhm, yeah! Sure." "You draw me? Awwe, that's so cute."

he loves how calm you are, he actually thinks of you as an angel the way you're so peaceful.

he thinks your nose rings are so gorgeous. if you let him pick which nose ring, he'll be so honored.

adores the fact you smell like lavender. he'll always lay his head into the crook of your neck because he loves your scent sm.

like his counterpart, he's so fascinated to your waist beads. like, he just thinks you look so beautiful with em. One time, you put his hands on your waist, he honestly didn't know what to do with himself.

"Mami, did you know I love your waist beads?" "Yes, bambi, i know." "Nah, but I loooovvveeeee them!" "Baby, i know!" "Like, I looooooooooooovvvvvvvveeeeee them!" "Love, please."

© 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 !

[laaailuh]

"He got a whole fan club."🕸️🕷️

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Pairing: e!42 morales x black!reader

Warnings: light swearing

Summary: You attended Miles's basketball game and caught sight of some girls cheering for him to an extensive amount.

a/n: had to repost this due to some problems with the text

 you coming to my game?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Im already here

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

I thought you had a lash appointment?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

I can always get them done another time

 ㅤplus I wanna see you play baby

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

you get to watch me dunk on these broke ass niggas then💯💪🏿

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ok pal!

Miles💕 disliked your message

“Number 16 is so good, like he really going all out f’me” Armani said, biting the tip of her index finger.

You scrunched your face, “Bitch you’re so delusional, he don't even know you.”

“Then explain why he always lookin’ back at me when he makes a shot?”

“You know the scoreboard is above us right? he just looking at the points girl.”

She kissed her teeth, “Just cause you got a nigga, don't mean you can ruin my fantasy bruh.”

Miles then made a three-pointer which caused everybody in the stands, including you, to get on their feet and cheer loudly. The score was now 65-50 with Brooklyn Visions Academy leading the game at fifteen points.

“Ask Miles to put me on 16, help a sista out.”

“Why don't you just get his insta after the game?”

Armani widened her eyes at your response, “Are you crazy? I aint that bold to be going up to him like that.”

In the last couple of seconds of the third quarter, one of his teammate's shots bounced off the rim which resulted in Miles acting quickly and getting the rebound instead. Another loud and favorable reaction from the crowd erupted in the gym.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“GO MILES!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“NUMBER 42 IS THE BEST PLAYA OUT THERE!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“42 HAS MY HEART!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“THATS MY MAN!”

You heard a couple of female voices yelling from behind you and decided to look back at the commotion. There was one girl holding up a sign that said “IN MILES WE TRUST” and others just screaming out his name.

You knew he was a well-known person in the school but didn't realize how much of the girls liked him.

“Damn, he got a whole fan club up in here.” Armani said as she laughed.

You turned back around to face the game, “The fuck, where these hoes even come from?”

“You gonna say something to them?”

“Nah.”

You weren't as fazed or threatened because you knew that Miles’s was yours. They weren't the ones that got to wear matching pj’s or watch poetic justice with him constantly. You got to share those moments with him, so what was there to be jealous of?

After their winning game of 103-92, Miles came up to you when everyone was leaving the stands.

“Te gusta el show que te hago mami?” (You like the show I put on for you mami?)

“It was ight.” You responded, obviously joking. 

He smirked and then tried to kiss you.

You pulled away “Nigga you’re dripping with sweat right now.”

“Shit, my bad.”

[parasiticstars]

Miles teaching Hobie how to do more detailed graffiti and Hobie swinging around both his and Miles’s dimension finding more spots to do it in and them both going around leaving tags places and at the end of the day they’re both laughing together and actually having a chance to not be two heroes with the weight of the world on their shoulders but just teenagers who get to have fun and deserve this lighthearted moment and I might not be entirely sober

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miles morales x reader - purple

miles takes you out to get slushies

You’re in the zone, notebooks and textbooks laid out, pens scattered everywhere, music from your headphones blasting in your headphones. You’re studying in your dorm, nodding your head to the music while you scratch down a few notes on paper. 

Midterms are coming up, and you’re studying hard. Students have been clawing their way through classes like zombies, grunting and sighing to themselves like half-dead corpses. 

It’s already dark outside, the only source of light in your room being the technicolor laptop screen in front of you. You hear a beeping and occasional crash outside, but that’s just New York. 

At first, you don’t hear the knocking on your window, too endorsed in your music to notice. It’s only when the knocking gets louder and faster that you pause your study session. 

Hesitantly pulling down your headphones, you look towards your glass window. You recognize that black suit anywhere, the one that looks like he’s bleeding from his armpits. 

It’s Miles. 

You get up from your desk chair, flipping the lock on the window and pushing the glass pane all the way up. Like the thousands of times he’s done before, Miles crawls through your window, stepping onto the soft carpet of your dorm. 

He’s been getting bigger, stronger, lately. Only shame of that is the fact that it’s harder for him to fit through your window. 

Miles dusts himself off, and you spread your arms wide for a hug with a smile on your face. He practically lands into you, squeezing you tight and forcing the air out of your lungs. He’s so happy to see you. 

He sighs into your hair. 

“M’ glad you’ve been keeping your window locked.“

“You said you hated it yesterday.“

“Shhh....“

The two of you unclasp, and Miles tugs his mask off his face. He presses a kiss to your temple, shifting his gaze towards the array of study materials on your desk. 

“Midterms?“

“Yep.“ You say, popping the “p.“

Miles ponders for a moment, peering from the bags under your eyes to the impossibly large stack of papers on your study space. Subconsciously, he kneads a hand into your side. 

“Hey, you wanna go somewhere?“

“Miles, it’s 10 at night.“

“How bout’ the 7-Eleven down the street?“

“Mmmm....“

“I’ll keep you safe. You’re lookin’ at the one and only Spiderman.“ Miles says, gesturing to himself with a smirk. 

You playfully roll your eyes. “Alright. I think I need a break anyway.”

“For real.“ Miles mutters. 

Miles scouts your dorm room for a jacket, maybe some sweatpants. He usually leaves clothes at your dorm anyway. You throw a pair of grey sweatpants at his head, but he catches them in his fist. Over his suit, Miles throws on a jacket, slotting his legs through the sweatpants. 

It’s cold out, so you throw on a jacket, putting on slippers over your fuzzy socks. Miles shoves his mask back on just so his identity is concealed. If anyone asks, Spiderman was just saving a person who got lost 

“C’mere.“ Miles says, his arms already out near your window.

You gingerly rise up on your tip-toes, wrapping your arms around Miles’s neck. He slots one hand onto the lower curve of your back, and the other where your thighs and calves meet, carrying you in a somewhat twisted princess carry. 

Miles carefully inches through your tiny apartment window, and you duck your head down to make sure you don’t hit it on the way out. 

Your heart already pumping in your veins, Miles jumps out into the open air, one hand slinging the both of you through Brooklyn, the other slotted underneath your upper thighs to keep you from plummeting to the ground. 

You never really admit it, but you love when Miles slings you both places. The wind in your face, Miles holding you close, the sounds of New York. You adore it. 

It’s not very long before the ride ends, and Miles pulls lands in a very suspicious alleyway. 

“I knew you were plotting against me all along.“ You joke, and he sets you down onto the concrete. He yanks his mask off, shoving it into his jacket pocket. 

The florescent lights of the 7-Eleven glow a bright white, as if it were it’s own sun. Miles pulls the door open for you, such a gentleman. You step inside, and Miles gives a nod to the cashier. 

“Ooh! Slushies.“ You say, staring at the almost hypnotizing swirl of neon colors in the tank. It’s so inviting, the perfect thing to have at 10pm.

Miles already helps himself, grabbing a cup and handing one to you. As you suspect, Miles gets the blue flavor, while you get the red cherry cola. You can hear the light pop and sizzle of the slush as it pours, making you all the more thirsty. 

You take a sip, and you sigh in enjoyment. 

“You want anything else?“ Miles asks, and you shake your head no. He guides you with a hand on your back to the cashier counter, and the man already starts typing in the order. 

Miles reaches into both jacket pockets, but no avail. 

“Shit, forgot my wallet.“

A.K.A, Miles doesn’t keep his wallet on him during patrol. 

“All good man, on the house.“

“Thanks, man.“

You nod, and Miles reaches his arm past your head, pushing the door open in front you. The cold air of Brooklyn engulfs you, and you can nearly see your breath cloud up. 

Slowly, the both of you talk, inching back towards the dark alleyway from before. On your tip-toes again, you press a chilled kiss to Miles’s chin. 

“Thanks, Miles.“

“I didn’t even buy it.“ He chuckles, shamelessly pulling you into him after taking another sip of his slush. 

One thing leads to another, and Miles starts kissing you, starting from your cheeks but eventually leading down to your lips. Simultaneously, he draws you in and holds his slush with the same hand, using the other to bury it in your hair. 

Miles chuckles into your mouth; it’s fun to kiss when you taste like cherry cola. Miles is taken by surprise when you boldly prod your tongue into his mouth, a blush rising high onto his face. With the slight privacy of the alleyway, Miles feels brave enough prod and poke your lips with his teeth. 

When you finally let go, Miles’s face is warm in contrast to the cold air, almost hot to the touch. It’s rare when you two ever truly swap spit, but Miles thinks its special when you do. 

Its a bit silent for a moment after, but neither of you can stop smiling. Miles in particular can’t stop touching you all over.  

A thought pops into your head. 

You rummage through your pockets for your phone, switching it on and pressing the button to activate your flashlight. 

“Miles, open your mouth.“

“Woah, babe, didn’t know you were into th-“ He jokes.

“Oh my gosh Miles, it’s not that.“

Miles chuckles. He loves poking at you. As he was told, he opens his mouth, and you point the flashlight at it. You start laughing to yourself, the light of the flash flickering everywhere. 

“What? Is it my face?“

“No, look!“ You pull up the selfie mode on your phone, using the brightness of your phone to the best of it’s ability. You press your cheek to Miles, sticking your tongue out for the camera. 

“It’s purple!“ You cackle, and Miles starts chuckling along with you. 

There’s spots on Miles’s tongue that are deeper in blue, but still nonetheless a lavender color. You giggle, snapping a few photos. 

“We should try again but with different colors.” Miles smirks, slyly resting his head against your temple. 

You smirk. “Just tell me you wanna make out more, Miles.”

He shrugs, dropping an arm around your shoulders. “Hmm. Maybe.“

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[xxoxobree]

More baby Miles 🥰

[yandere-wishes]

The Perfect Girl

Summary: Somewhere along the line the villain won and the hero lost. Now your life is nothing more than a cautionary tale.

 Part #2 of Imposter Syndrome but can be read as a stand-alone. Part #3 The Spider's web

Warnings: Dollification, yandere themes but like more than usual, abuse, violence, horrible Spanish, NO NSFW but the reader and Miles are 18+. Friends to enemies to one sided lovers. This plays out as a cautionary tale. 

Author's note: Can you tell I'm bad at writing Intimacy??😂🤣

You squirm uncomfortably on Miles's lap. Arms awkwardly thrown around his neck as you try to hide your face in his chest. Miles sits proudly, face void of emotions and voice overflowing with authority. He's barking orders to his underlings. For what you're not sure, you've long since stopped listening in on his conversations, your inability to do anything coupled with the innocent lives you know would be destroyed was enough to keep you awake at night. And consciousness was the last thing you wanted these days. 

It's been six weeks.

Six weeks since the Prowler defeated New York's last beacon of hope. Six weeks since he'd been welcomed into the Sinister Six as their newest member. They're shining star. 

Six weeks since he stole you away from everything you knew,

everything you loved.

You hear the padding of feet and the loud thump of the door. You're alone with him again. So the nightmare begins anew. You're reluctant to lift your head, to face your capturer. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. It's funny how once, back when you'd still wore your beloved silk mask, you had used to count the minutes until your midnight rendezvous. 

Miles's fingers reach towards you, tilting your chin up. His smile is razor sharp, deformed as if he can't quite remember how to smile. "Muñequita" he mutters like a disjointed prayer as his fingers glide up your side. Drowning you in a sense of impending doom.

You stare into his eyes. Two voids that have seen every nightmare imaginable. Any saint, any sweet innocent boy whose been trapped inside the darkness for this long comes out as a monster. Stumbling through the night with knives instead of teeth and an appetite for destruction. Miles Morales may have been a human once, a long time ago. Before you met him, before the savior of New York met him. But now he's a monster, one who has long since buried any morals and dignity he may have once had.

Sometimes when the night rages on and you're caged between his arms and sentience. you wonder if maybe, just maybe you should go digging for any of the virtues that he's buried six feet deep. But when he laughs and tauntingly presses on a new bruise with his thumb, you conclude quickly that it's better to leave his good qualities dead. it's easier to hate him that way.

"How does it feel to sit in your arch nemesis's lap?" 

He jabs as he pinches your cheek. You let out a soft cry of annoyance as you shift your gaze away from your tormentor. 

Miles revels in your fall from grace. Adores pinching and probing you in front of his minions or the rest of his gang members. Loves taunting you after every failed escape attempt. You try to bite his finger, to make him feel a fraction of your pain. But before your teeth can graze his skin, he releases your cheek. He laughs, low and fragmentary. A haunting noise that reminds you that he barely counts as human anymore, just a heartless ghost masquerading as a real boy. "Trying to rebel again mi amor?". 

You fight the urge to pick at the flesh of your face or bite your fingers until you reach the bone. 

Miles's eyes narrow, annoyed at your lack of a response. He's growing bored, he always does when his pet refuses to play along. His gauntlet reaches for your neck. Squeezing as the claws bite into your flesh. 

you should let him kill you, give him the final satisfaction of watching your blood blemish the skin-tight dress he's made you wear. Watch as the life leaves your eyes. "let's try this again mami. When I ask, how it feels your response should be.."

"I love you Miles" you mutter, all deadpan and defaced. "Not like that say it the way I taught you" he hisses, a threat, you note wearily.

"Te amo Miles"

"Bino"

Sometimes you think that he's foolish enough to believe your reprised lie. It almost helps him deceive himself into believing he still has a soul left. 

He thinks he loves you. 

You think he doesn't know what love quite is. 

You use to be a hero, use to be revered and respected by all. You use to be someone, someone important. Laminating about all of this now will do you no good. 

You're nothing more than a doll now. Painted and dressed the way Miles likes, posed forever perfectly on his lap. Flaunted and paraded as all prize trophies should be. You guess it makes sense. To the victor goes the spoils. You wonder if you would have done the same to him if you had emerged triumphant that night. Deep down, where logic doesn't reach, you know you would. At least you would have let him keep his dignity. You're not like him, you're not a villain...

But you're not a hero anymore either. What are you supposed to be anyway? When questions like this bubble into your withering mind. You force yourself to choke down the idea that you're still good, you have to be. You're not like him, like them. You're afraid that someday you'll look in the mirror and every ounce of your virtues will have evaporated. You promise yourself that that'll be the day you do something drastic. To yourself or Miles, you're not sure yet. 

Miles's fingers trace the indents on your neck. Angry red puncture holes left by his steel claws. He buries his face in the crock of your neck. Licking the measly blood drops from the wounds before tenderly kissing his territory. "Stop it" you grumble trying to push at his chest. But he just growls in warning, ignoring your feeble attempts. "I got you a present, Mami" he whispers over your jugular. You flinch, as he detaches from your neck with a final kiss. He maneuvers you off his lap as he gets up and walks over to a closet on the other side of the room. Plucking out a necklace from one of the drawers. 

Necklace is a generous term. Its neck tight and studded. With a silver chain hanging dead-center that speaks of horrors untold. You know what it implies, you know what he's trying to say, trying to prove. You never thought you'd miss the Prowler's iron glad punches to your stomach but you think this might just be worst. At least back then you'd been able to fight back. Reimburse every punch with a kick or stab of your own. Now you are helpless, frail. Broken glass perpetually embedded in soft cotton. Something wild, something tamed. Golden specks of a crown long since shattered tint your hair. All ghosts of who you once were.  

"What do you say, muñequita," He says. In a tone that's sick, in a tone that's sweet. Like rotten nectar trickling down a destroyed paradise. Like boiling blood dripping from a broken heart. There's a click, as he fastens his present around your neck. An endless second before reality comes crashing in. 

"Gracias Miles" You reply as you feel your last shard of freedom disintegrate. 

You use to be something, someone. Carved from porcelain ideals and ivory hope. Divine ichor ran through your veins as you swung across New York's skyline. You had been chosen, but you hadn't been enough.

Now it feels like someone tore you apart. Ripped away your flesh, your bones, your thoughts, your soul. Stitched you up wrong with a rusted needle and a thread of ash. And all you could do was sit there and watch as your golden blood seeped through ruptured veins.

Miles grabs your shoulders. Pulling you close enough so the spikes of your necklace cut into his flesh. His lips bite yours teasingly before they finally merge into a dreadful kiss. He isn't the Prowler you remember, albeit you know that's wrong. He's not the Prowler you had fabricated when you'd thought that the two of you were both innocent souls driven to madness by this city. You use to think that Miles was beautiful, a moon-kissed face with stardust dripping from his eyes. Now you know the truth. He's nothing more than a nightmare, the embodiment of starless darkness and the terrors that lurk upon blackened city streets. He's not your friend. He never was. You were just so foolish and overwhelmed back then. 

"You're mine, héroe." His voice is nothing short of a dagger laced with venom. Spreading apathetic poison from your heart to your lungs and leaking into your bloodstream. You see blood behind your eyes when your eyelids shut. Feel the apprehension pounding in the hollows of your bones. 

You've long since hemmed every hole where your pride and glory use to bleed through. But it's so hard to keep divinity down when it's all you've ever known. This life isn't yours. This thing that Miles has forced you to be isn't you. There's still hope, you think. Heroes never lose hope. It's a lesson everyone learns, sooner or later. 

Later that night Miles kisses you again, this time whispering how to him you are perfection personified. The dark circles under your eyes and bloody knuckles validate that. He traces circles on your arms whilst telling you about how the Sinister Six plan to expand their operations to the next city over. All this makes you wonder if he'd ever been a sweet little boy, tucked under his mother's arm, whilst his father kisses his cheek. Of if he's always been a merciless monster who wears his kills like honor badges. 

You pray under your breath as he reminds you that you're no longer a hero. You wonder if you pray because you are human or if praying makes you human. There are still some fragments of hope bubbling inside you regardless of what he says. 

Miles likes to remind you that you no longer have the power to save anyone. That the villains won and the heroes lost and that's the way this story ends. 

You refuse to believe him.