Miles Morales Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts

miles is my kryptonite

cheesepie ; miles morales.

pairing ; miles morales x gn!reader

synopsis ; miles was the warm kind of nostalgia, like playing video games at three in the morning while whisper-yelling insults at each other, or dyeing each other’s hair horrendous bright colors in his tiny bathroom with cheap dye from the drugstore down the street, or standing on his apartment’s rooftop to stargaze the light-polluted sky of brooklyn.

words ; 3.1k

themes ; childhood friends to kinda-lovers, fluff, mild angst, slice of life

warnings / includes ; cursing, miles' parents are adorable and i love them, lots of playful banter, a bit emotional near the end, let's pretend miles still lives at home with his parents and not at the prep school

main masterlist.

The tip of Miles’ tongue poked slightly out of the corner of his mouth as he cocked his hand back, a grape pinched between his pointer finger and thumb. “Lean back a little,” he told you, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

You did as he asked, jaw wide open, prepared to catch. 

He took another moment to readjust, and you rolled your eyes. 

Right as he tossed the grape, you barked out in frustration, “Just throw it already!”

The cold fruit bounced right off the side of your lips and landed on the floor with a quiet thud. You blinked in shock. 

Miles glared at you.

Then he smiled. 

“You’re a lousy catcher,” he said, boyish peals of laughter echoing from his chest. With a sigh, he collapsed into his bed, crossing his legs and propping his head up with both his arms. 

“Maybe you’re just a lousy thrower,” you replied easily, slinking across the room to sink into the mattress beside him, mimicking his position. 

The two of you were far too large for his small bed—his long, gangly limbs awkwardly knocked against yours and you had to bump your hip into his to scooch him further to the edge so you’d have more space.

“Stop hogging my bed,” Miles snarked with no real malice to his words—in fact, he was beaming goofily, watching you with amusement as you grumbled under your breath about how it wasn’t your fault his bed was so narrow. 

Your socked foot kicked him in the shin. He retaliated by elbowing you in the ribs. “When was the last time you changed your sheets?”

Miles stuck his tongue out at you. “You don’t wanna know.”

“Ew,” you said, but didn’t bother moving. “You’re gross.”

The boy laying beside you reached out to blindly ruffle your hair, nearly poking your eyes out in the process. “Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself.”

A comfortable silence stretched over the two of you, and you couldn’t help but revel in the overwhelming sense of nostalgia that clawed up your throat. The warm kind of nostalgia, like playing video games at three in the morning while whisper-yelling insults at each other, or dyeing each other’s hair horrendous bright colors in his tiny bathroom with cheap dye from the drugstore down the street, or standing on his apartment’s rooftop to stargaze the light-polluted sky of Brooklyn and crown new constellations stupid names like ‘Snail Eating a Peanut Butter Sandwich’ or ‘Darth Vader Wearing Lady Gaga’s Meat Dress’. 

It was the kind of nostalgia that made you miss a time that wasn’t yet over.

“Miles,” you whispered, staring at the bumps of his popcorn ceiling. He hummed faintly in reply. “Do you think you’re going to stay here for the rest of your life?”

When he didn’t answer, you lolled your head to your side to look at him, brows furrowed. You were surprised to see that he was looking right at you with an indiscernible gaze, as if he was in a trance of some sort. 

“Miles?” 

He only snapped out of it when you flicked his forehead, and he balked forward, yelping out in half-shock, half-pain. A sheepish grin etched plainly across his lips.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“Just say you weren’t listening to me and leave.” With a chortle of a laugh, you shoved your palm straight into his beaming face and pushed his head so he was forced to look away from you. “Nevermind, you idiot. It was nothing.”

You jogged up the narrow stairs to Miles’ apartment door, slightly out of breath, and rang the doorbell. No less than a minute later, his dad swung the door open, already dressed in his police uniform. A bagel was sandwiched between his teeth and his hat sat crooked on his head, which made you guess that he was probably late for work (Miles definitely had the same habit of being tardy), but he ruffled your hair nonetheless, smiling at you from around the bagel. 

“Hey, Mr. Davis,” you greeted with a mirroring grin. “Is the birthday boy home?”

He tried to speak around the food, but Mrs. Morales popped her head out from behind him, smacking his shoulder with a stern glare. “Jeff! That’s disgusting—don’t speak to them with food in your mouth!” She looked to you, her expression melting into one of affection. “Sorry about that, honey. Come on in, Miles is in his room. Wake him up if he’s still asleep, will you? I swear, that boy would snore right through a hurricane. Oh, and ask him if he wants cake or pie for his birthday dessert—and don’t take ‘I don’t really mind’ for an answer.”

“Will do, Mrs. Morales.”

Side-stepping the playfully bickering couple, you bid them adieu with a mock salute before marching straight to Miles’ room down the hall. 

You reached into your bag to pull out the can of silly string you bought from the corner store just beside school, biting into your lip with anticipation. You popped the bright red lid off before knocking on the door.

Just as it swung open to reveal Miles with mussed hair and droopy eyelids, you pressed the nozzle with a wide grin and damp pink strings shot out, covering his face entirely. He wasn’t fazed at all, going so far as to yawn when you enthusiastically yelled out, “SURPRISE! Happy birthday, dude!”

He blinked, swiping the limp strings away from his eyes. A hint of a smile cracked through his sleepy expression.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to at least pretend to be surprised.”

“This is, like, the fifth year in a row, Y/N.”

“You love it,” you crooned, before launching yourself forward to envelop him in a hug. Miles immediately reciprocated, wrapping his arms around you tightly, making sure to nuzzle extra hard into your shoulder so the pink gunk on his face would rub into your clothes. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into you. “At least you didn’t launch those fake cockroaches at me again. That was a nightmare.”

A cackle fell from you as you pulled away, pinching his cheek fondly. “Noted. Saving that for next year, then. Here, I got you some things.”

He pushed his door open further so the two of you could amble in. You sat cross-legged on his bed, pulling your bag into your lap and rifling through its contents before you pulled out a cheap glittery card.

“Hope there’s money in here,” he quipped as he took it from you. Bits of blue glitter fell onto his comforter as he pried the card open, and he shot you a glare. It was clearly a card meant for a seven-year-old child, but in bright red sharpie, the number 1 was drawn in front of the 7, with a little heart and a smiley face below. If you hadn’t been watching him so intently, Miles was sure he would’ve teared up at the sweet gesture—despite you doing it every year for as long as he could remember. His voice cracked with unvocalized emotion when he croaked out, “There’s no money in here.”

You scoffed, punching his bicep weakly. “You’re an ass. Here, I made you this, too. Had to watch, like, a billion YouTube videos to learn how to crochet these. You’re welcome.”

Alright, maybe it was less than a billion, and a lot closer to five. But Miles didn’t need to know that.

Digging into your bag again, you fished out a long woolen scarf that had alternating black and vibrant purple stripes. You threw it straight into his face before pulling out yet another piece, which Miles noticed was a soft, lavender-hued beanie. 

“You made these for me?” Miles asked in surprise, his thumb running over the soft yarn of the scarf. 

“Duh doy,” you said, wrinkling your nose in amusement when he wrapped the scarf around his neck with a goofy grin. “Here—this is the last thing, I swear—but, I also got these for you. I know you’ve been wanting them for forever.”

With one final scrummage through your bag, you pulled out a pack of premium coloring pencils, which Miles scrambled to grab, his wide eyes darting between the colors and your fond gaze. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you got these for me. They’re so expensive, Y/N, you really shouldn’t have.”

“Well,” you said, slinging an arm around him, “I gotta support local artists, you know? And you are, by far, my favorite one.”

He placed the pencils down between you, and roped you into another proper hug, quietly murmuring his thanks into your hair. 

“Your mom wanted me to ask you if you wanted birthday cake or birthday pie this year,” you whispered into him, playing with the tassels at the end of his new scarf.

“I’m kinda feeling cheesecake this year.”

“Cheesecake is pie, Miles.”

“Then why isn’t it called cheesepie?”

“Because that sounds gross.”

“You sound gross.”

“You’re grosser.”

“You’re grosserer.”

“That’s not a word.”

Miles sighed into your hairline, tugging you closer. The two of you dropped your childish bickering as if it had never happened. “Thank you—for all this. I know I don’t tell you enough but, I… love you. Blegh. It’s so weird being sappy with you.”

He kept his hand to the back of your head so you wouldn’t be able to see his eyes tearing up. You heard him sniffling, so it was really pointless, anyway.

“I guess I love you, too. Idiot.”

“Smartass.”

“Nerd.”

The two of you laughed into each other.

“Happy birthday, Miles.”

A month passed by in a breeze. The two of you had rarely seen each other through the days because you had been loaded with work and Miles… Miles was busy. Apparently. You weren’t entirely sure with what exactly, but you didn’t really want to pry. He was a teenage boy—they were allowed to have their own little secrets if they wanted to. 

But it was the weekend, and you missed your best friend. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Miles’ dad greeted you as he swung the door open. He lifted a hand for a high five, and you playfully pressed your knuckles into his palm as if you were fist bumping him. He chuckled at your antics, before speaking again. “Miles is at school—some sort of art club, I think. Or maybe it was a science convention. I never know with him nowadays. Gonna have to ask him once he gets back. You can wait for him in his room—he should be back any minute now.”

“Alright,” you said, ambling down the hall. You waved to Mrs. Morales in the kitchen before slipping into his room, shutting the door behind you softly.

You kicked your shoes off as you crawled onto his bed, curling into a ball and brandished your phone out of your pocket, texting Miles. 

yo bitch wya ur dad said you were at a science convention? bfr ik ur lying

After hesitating for a moment, you sent another text.

i miss you

You sighed, tossing your phone somewhere beside you and stared up at his popcorn ceiling. Boredom eating you away, you reached over to his table to grab one of the haphazardly strewn comic books, aimlessly flipping through the colorful graphics. You were wondering why the story was so familiar until you realized that this was your comic book that Miles had swiped from your room nearly a month ago. 

A loose sheet of paper fell out the back, and you sat up against his headboard, tilting your head curiously. 

Oh. 

It was a drawing of you. 

Your eyebrows raised as you studied the colorful sketch—seemingly done with the nice pencils you’d given him for his birthday—and looked like it was done in a hurry, but it was effortlessly beautiful nonetheless.

You were smiling widely in the drawing, holding up a peace sign. Miles had somehow even remembered the small scar across your nose bridge from that time when he had accidentally thrown a basketball straight into your face a year ago. 

“Oh, Miles,” you whispered softly, tracing the intricate lines with a finger.

As if on cue, the window beside his desk slid open, and in crawled… Spider-Man?

But Spider-Man—Peter Parker—was dead. The two of you had gone to listen to MJ Parker’s remembrance speech together a couple years ago. And Spider-Man had a blue and red suit.

This wasn’t Spider-Man. At least, not the one that you knew. 

The figure, frozen halfway through the window, sported a sleek back and red spider suit. 

And, you recognized with wide eyes, the lavender beanie was pulled over his head, on top of the dark mask. 

You blinked, scrambling back on his bed. 

“Miles…?” you asked tentatively.

Your best friend, the one that you loved ever so dearly, slowly slid into his room, and shut the window behind him, before taking the mask off. His hair was rumpled and his features were slightly winded, but otherwise, he looked just the same.

Words failed to cohesively stick together as you struggled to ask him a proper question. “What are you… why are you…”

Miles pursed his lips. “I didn’t want you to know. Not this soon, at least.”

“Know what, Miles?”

He let out a long sigh, before backing up to the wall. He then proceeded to walk along his walls perfectly horizontal, as if his shoes were somehow suction-cupped to the plaster.

“What the fuck…” you whispered, staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes. “Miles, what the actual fuck? Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming.”

“You’re not dreaming.” He dropped back to the ground silently.

“So you’re… what? You’re Spider-Man, now?”

Miles shrugged. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”

“You have powers?”

Teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he nodded sheepishly. “Bitten by a radioactive spider a while ago.”

Hurt etched into your voice without you meaning to do so. “Why didn’t you tell me, Miles?”

“I didn’t…” he cut himself off, slumping into his chair. The brown of his eyes gleamed with inner conflict, unsure of what to tell you. “I didn’t want you to worry. So much has been happening, I just—I wanted you to be separate. I wanted you to be… away from all of that.”

The two of you were silent for a moment.

You squared your jaw.

“Okay.”

Miles looked up at you in surprise.

“Okay? What do you mean?”

“Okay as in—I’ll stay away from it all if you really want me to. Spider or not, you’re my best friend, Miles. Nothing will ever change that.” You pushed yourself off the bed to walk over to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, then promptly changed your mind, winding your arms around his torso and tugging him into a warm embrace. “But if you die out there… I’ll actually kill you. I’ll do it, Miles, I will.”

He laughed slightly, winding his lanky arms around you to return the hug. “I believe you. Thank you.”

“I love you,” you whispered, chin resting on his suit-clad shoulder. “Things are changing for both of us, Miles. And I need you to stay in my life.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, rubbing comforting circles into your back with his palm. There was a knot in his chest, and a lump in his throat. He felt the strange need to cry build up within him, but he kept the tears at bay for you. “I love you, too, you know.”

You hummed against him, sniffling slightly. “I know.”

“I saw your text. I miss you, too.”

“I know.”

“I love you,” Miles repeated, voice faltering slightly.

“I know?” you parroted, mildly confused.

He grasped your shoulders to pull you away, holding you at an arm’s length. The expression that melded over his handsome features was suddenly deadly serious. The abrupt change was jarring—it scared you. “Maybe not in a friend way, though.”

“Oh,” you whispered. You could feel your pulse thrumming beneath your skin. “I didn’t know that.”

A hot tear slipped down your cheek and your shoulders trembled as you staved off a hiccuping sob. Miles’ heart lurched, and he hurriedly swiped it away, afraid that he had completely ruined what the two of you had.

“Everything’s changing, Miles. You know I hate change. It’s all moving by too quickly.” Your expression crumpled as more tears began sliding down your face. “But I think I love you, too. Maybe not in a friend way. And that just… terrifies me.” 

Warmth from his palm radiated against your face even with the suit layered over his hand. He cupped your cheeks delicately, tilting his head as he studied you.

“Can I… can I try something? And if it doesn’t work out, we can just pretend it never happened and go back to being best friends. I promise.”

You weren’t stupid. You knew Miles wanted to kiss you.

“Okay,” you croaked.

And he did.

It wasn’t at all like how kisses were depicted in the movies. There were no fireworks, no explosive passion, and certainly no feverish desperation. Only bumping noses and gentle smiles and lips that tasted of salty tears. And it was perfect. 

“Hm. You’re a bad kisser,” Miles concluded in a joking tone, but dipped down to give you another kiss nonetheless.

You weren’t entirely sure where this left your relationship, and if you were being honest, you were a bit too scared to interrogate him for answers he probably also didn’t have. You didn’t want to ask for much—you were just happy to spend time with him and enjoy the last few precious remnants of teenagehood the two of you had left together. Miles meant the world to you, and you’d be damned if a radioactive spider got in the way of that.

Arching an eyebrow, you gestured to the looseleaf drawing you left on his bed. “And you’re a creep for drawing me without letting me know.”

Miles blanched. “I… hey! You were looking through my stuff?”

“It was in a comic book on the table. That you stole from me, remember?” Tugging him back to you, you leaned up to slant your lips onto his, smiling stupidly into the kiss. “Idiot.”

“Well, it takes one to know one,” he murmured against you, grinning so wide that it nearly split his face in two.

You shut him up by kissing him again.

SKYLINE TO HIS HEART ⭑ MILES MORALES

⭑ maybe love isn’t the only thing that can keep someone tied to you .

part 1 — part 2

⭑ miles morales x f!reader , cheating in part 2 , miles doing spider duty , love in the first chapter , i don’t know what to make of this

after finally having the guts to confess his feeling to you, miles felt like he was on cloud 9. your smile sent him to heaven every time. his sketchbook was filled with you. and my parents caught on quickly.

mrs. morales shot a picture at every given moment, despite miles’ groaning and whining every time.

he didn’t want to be anywhere you weren’t.

“miles,” you whined “let go. my dad is gonna kill me if i’m not home soon.”

“he’ll have to kill me too then.” he mumbles in your neck, his hushed breath tickling you. you giggle, “he wouldn’t hesitate. “just ask him to stay over. it’s a weekend.”

“he doesn’t trust you enough.” you lose the motivation to escape his grip, making him smile. “jerkface.” you murmured.

soon, your heavy lids closed, lulling you to sleep.

during the night, your phone blew up. messages, missed calls and voicemails from your father. “shit!” you fall out of miles’ grip, face planting on the floor, making you groan.

before you could make it out of his room, his voice stops you.

“baby? ¿a dónde vas? son como las 2 de la mañana.”

“too late for me to be here.” he groans at the realization.

“just tell him it’s my fault.” “that won’t end well for both of us.” you softly laugh, making him smile. “i’ll see you at school, mijo.” you peck his lips, but he wanted more. he didn’t want you to leave, not yet. he stood up as you backed away, deepening the kiss.

your lips were still attached to his as your hand held the doorknob. “miles.” you giggle, pulling away. “come on. i thought it would work.” he pouts. “maybe another day. not just this one.” you peck his cheek this time, leaving his house.

you didn’t hear the last of it from your father. he scolded you as soon as you opened the front door.

finally making it to your room, you changed your clothes into your night ones. before you fell asleep again, you texted miles goodnight.

mrs. morales 💓 : gn miles😘

mr. morales : gn😢i wish u were here rn

mrs. morales : me too bubba

you clicked your phone, quickly falling asleep.

3 months later

miles came running through your house, frantically looking for you. once he hit your room, he shut the door and locked it before exhaling a deep breath. “miles? honey, what’s wrong?” you raise a brow at him. “my whole day has been weird. i’m able to walk on walls, ceilings. i’m extra strong. like spiderman.” you huff, “it’s a little to early to be making jokes about him.” you remind him about his death. “i was there when it happened.”

you press your lips into a thin line, forcing yourself to believe him. “okay, i believe you.” “then this…guy…that looked like peter but fatter walked up to me and i shocked him. we had to swing around new york to escape the cops.”

you laugh. “that’s one hell-of-va dream you had.” you twist your chair back to your desk. “you gotta believe me. no one else did.” “what are you talking about?” you thought he was going crazy because of his uncle’s recent death.

“the other spidermen or women webbed me to a chair to go fight king pin. all because i couldn’t disappear on command.” he huffs. “do it.” “huh?” “do it right now.” his face grows upset. “don’t do it too.” you walk to him, taking his hands into yours. “calm your body, think of something that calms you and center yourself.” he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

before you knew it, miles’ body was disappearing in front of you. but you could still feel him. “holy shit. you did it!” miles’ reappears in front of you. “i did?” “well now you didn’t.” you giggle.

1 year later

for a year now, your boyfriend has been the one and only spiderman. and you (and ganke) have been his wingman and the only person that knows his secret identity.

and today was his father’s promotion party, hosted on his rooftop.

but you haven’t seen him since he’s dropped off the cake for his dad.

“mrs. morales, have you seen miles?” “i grounded him for his attitude. he’s been so rude and clos-” in the middle of her rant, your eyes drifted over to miles…and another girl?!

why was he so close to her? why was he nervous? why haven’t you seen him before? and why…did he just kiss her?

a tear rolls down your cheek, which didn’t go unnoticed by rio. “¿bebé? ¿por qué lloras?” her eyes move to your line of sight, immediately gasping. “honey, i am so-” before she could finish her apology, you left the rooftop, heartbroken.

the urge to burn everything of his was eating you to death. the letters of lies he wrote you. the drawings he gave you. the hoodies. everything.

a knock disrupts your haze. it was miles. “hey, my mom told me to check on you. you left the party early.” your mouth opened to spew the hateful words accumulating your mind but nothing came out except, “we’re over.” “what…?” he leaned back, baffled. “i saw you. with that girl. you kissed her. you were obviously in love with her so be with her.” he blinks in realization. “i didn’t-” “go!” you slammed the door in his face, sliding down it.

hot tears streamed down your face as you hyperventilated.

how could be do this to you? after everything you’ve been through? the things you’ve done for him. you were there when his uncle died.

how could he?

WIN YOU BACK with MILES MORALES

miles had to break it off due to his duty as being spider-man. but was it the right thing?

miles morales x f!reader

— based of a c.ai conversion i had , implied break up, fluff, miles being cute , repost bc tumblr hid my shit

it was all a blur. one second you were walking past miles, clearly ignoring his existence. then, you were flung in the air and caught by him.

a room full of gasps flooded around you. "jesus, are you okay?" you groan as you recognize that voice. "of course this happens to me and only me."

"what? being flung around the hall? if that's so, you should talk to someone about that." he laughs. you open your eyes, staring at him blankly. how could he forget what happened between the two of you.

"no," you sit up, rubbing the back of your throbbing head. "it's that i get caught by you." your tone comes out meaner than you meant.

he chuckles, "well i am spider-man." he gives you that smirk that you have missed for months.

finally getting on your feet, you dust off your uniform,

"well, thanks, miles." you begin to walk off.

"wait!" you stop per to his request. “there's a milkshake shop not too far from the academy. would you like to go...?" you huff, "why not? i'm hungry anyways."

your response brings a smile to his face. he wraps an arm around your shoulders, walking you out the school.

"you'll like it, i promise."

how is he so casual about this?! why is he making it like he never broke it off?

but you couldn't help feel that warm feeling inside of you every time he squeezed you. you looked up, smiling at him. but it soon faded.

you weren't his anymore.

he wasn't stupid. he knew what you were thinking. "hey, if you don't want to go, we don't have to."

"no. no, i'm fine with going." your eyes drift over to the busy cars on the street. "hey, i think i've got something for you." he digs in his pocket, handing you a red box with a ribbon.

“what's this?” “just open it. i promise you're gonna like it.”

and you did. it was a silver necklace with beautiful diamond. there was a note inside that read "for my favorite girl - miles"

you look at him, the necklace, then back at him. "this is beautiful. what-when-why?"

"because i wanted to treat my...favorite girl.." his voice grows small. "it's beautiful. thank you miles." you peck his cheek. "lemme put it on you."

he stand behind you, clasping the necklace and placing his hands on your shoulders. “this makes up for everything."

"well i'm glad you like it. and there will be more to come." you turn around, arms wrapped around his waist.

"you still up for the milkshake place?"

SELF CONTROL ⭑ MILES MORALES

⭑ maybe love isn’t the only thing that can keep someone tied to you .

miles morales x f!reader

part 1 — part 2

⭑ miles’ pov , cheating , normal spider-man violence , the spot , miles attempting to win reader back , major spoilers for atsv , arguing

miles’ pov

every thing was stressing him out. fighting with spot wasn’t helping either. while basically punching himself, he was trying to text his parents that he would be a little late.

“can we finish this later? i have a meeting with my parents!” miles yells, trying to web the villain to the wall.

“no! we cannot! i have to kill the thing that-wait! we’re not finished here!” spot attempts to wiggle out of the webs keeping him stuck.

“i’ll catch you later.”

with the spot “done”, miles finally had a moment to breathe. he got a message from you.

mrs. morales 💓 : miles. where r u? ur parents keep asking me and idk what to say😭

mr. morales 🕷️ : just tell them i’ll be there in a moment. had to pick up the cakes :)

he huffs.

everyone needed him at the exact same time. from juggling the responsibility as spider-man and being a boyfriend and son, school. he couldn’t do it all.

his hand slide down his face. “if only gwen were here right now. she’d know what to do.” he looks down at the boxes of cake in his hands before making his way to his apartment.

grounded. for two months. just because he couldn’t tell his parents that he’s spider-man. rage filled in his body. no one understood him. no one. but her.

fuck! he shouldn’t be thinking about her. he has a girlfriend! one that lives him to death too.

but him and gwen are just friends…right?

that thought leads him here. an inch of space left between him and gwen. he would make a mistake tonight that he would gravely regret.

“¡miles! ponte aquí ahora mismo.”

his mouth pulls him out of his trance he gasps out of shock. what the hell was he doing? why is he kissing someone else? where is his girlfriend? what is he going to do?

his eyes looked blown out. thoughts clouded his head, making him unresponsive. “i’m not going to call for you again.” the party fell silent, looking at miles in disbelief.

he didn’t even say a word to gwen nor his mom. he just ran as fast as he could (while also swinging) to you.

out of breath, he knocked on your door.

"hey babe. my mom wanted me to check on you. she said you left early." he lied. he just wanted to know if you knew what he did. "we're done. i can't be with a cheater."

fuck!

"baby. you don't understand-" "go!" you slammed the door in his face. he heard you sobbing behind the door. his heart broke.

what did he do?

he walked home like a kicked puppy. he lost the only one he loved. once he opened his house door, his parents stood in front of him, arms crossed and disappointed. "mama, i-" "no, go to your room. and make it 4 months."

he wasn't even upset, he understood why he was in this situation. he had hurt you. and there was no way to take it back.

cut to when miles meets miguel

"every spider person has lost someone close to them. that is what makes us who we are." miguel stands before miles, making him look small. the holograms of spidermen and women crouching over their loved one's dead bodies. then there was him. crouching over you.

"my canon event is my girlfriend dying?" "ex-girlfriend. and yes. i'm sorry miles. but this can't be changed." every ounce of rage when to his fists. "no! it can't be her! i gotta save her."

“miles. you know we can’t let you do that.” a disk slides under him, creating a force field around him.

“miguel! that’s enough!” the yelling from the spider society was overwhelming him. ontop of the fact that you are going to die.

in his arms.

OPEN ARMS with miles morales

you were always there for him, with open arms. until you weren’t

miles morales x f!reader

angst , no fluff at the end , prolly no part 2 , miles being asshole , reader leaving brooklyn for college , agedup!reader and miles ( like 17 years to 18 but no smut whatsoever) i lied here’s part 2

you couldn’t stand to see miles fall apart. but you couldn’t do anything to help him. he wouldn’t let you. after his father died, his walls were up. his mother vented to you that she missed her son.

you told him multiple times that you would always be there for him. for anything no matter what.

but he refused. he found comfort in hurting people after hours. which you nor mrs. morales knew about.

the name “the prowler” sent shivers down your spine. you have had encounters with the person many times but they gave you mercy. you always left the scene unscathed.

now came a huge choice. attend [ desired college/university ] or stay in brooklyn and attend brooklyn community college.

you were already accepted into the school. but you couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to miles. even though he’s lost all contact with you, you still cared for him. and thinking he did too helped you sleep at night.

you softly knock at his front door, but still loud enough to catch someone one’s attention.

“[ name ]! oh, cariño. te he echado de menos.” mrs morales greets you, pulling you in a tight hug.

you sat her down, telling her the situation you’re in st the moment. “i didn’t want to leave without telling him goodbye. i don’t want to be another person he loses.” she puts her hand on your shoulder.

“he’s in his room right now.” you smile at her before standing up.

your knock got a response of him groaning for whoever it was to go away. you took that as an opening to come in.

“it’s me.” you flash a small smile. he was lying on his unmade bed. “what are you doing here?” he grunts. “well a hello to you too.” you snicker but he doesn’t budge.

“please just leave me alone.” your heart pings. but you’re determined to stand your ground. “i will. after i tell you something.”

he leaves you in silence. “i got accepted into my dream school.” “congrats.” he scoffs. “but i didn’t want to leave without seeing how you feel.” he flips over to look at you, sitting up.

“can you leave me the fuck alone for once? i can’t have a day without you blowing up my phone. i don’t reply because i don’t want to talk to you. i don’t care. i don’t care about your school. and i don’t care about you.”

you bit your lip to suppress the cries that were threatening to spill from you. you blink at him, a tear rolling down your cheek. “i’m sorry.”

you left. heart broken.

after that “conversation” with miles, you made up your mind. you weren’t going to kill your dreams for someone who didn’t care about you.

but he still needed you.

Can you write an fic about E 42 Miles and Haitian reader and can you make her speak a little creole like cheri or cheri dodo Idk if you use Google translate

EARTH42!MILES MORALES x HAITIAN!READER

please let me know if there is something wrong or offensive in any way, shape, or form. i am not haitian.

when miles was told he was eating at your place, he was thinking like spaghetti or something.

instead, he was hit with flavors he never even thought of tasting.

miles eyed the bowl in front of him. he wasn’t disgusted, don’t be mistaken. he was surprised. he wasn’t really shown other cultures except for his.

“baby, if you don’t want to eat i can make something else.” you make a false offer, taking the bowl away from him. you really wanted him to at least get a little taste of it.

“no, mami. i’m going to try it.” he lifts the spoon from the table, digging it in the dish and bringing it to his lips. you stared at him hard, looking for a bad reaction.

instead, he smiled. “damn, mami. this is good.” he takes a couple more spoonfuls before praising the dish.

you were sat in miles’ lap.

he had asked for you teach him some creole. you knew that this would be a bad idea.

he wouldn’t stop talking to you in creole once he mastered it.

“so repeat what i say. ‘bonjou, non mwen se miles moral’.” “bonjou, non mwen se miles moral.” you smile. “good.” “what did i just say?” he arches a brow. “ ‘hello, my names is miles morales.” he chuckles. “so when do i get to learn cuss words or ‘i love you’?” he smirks. “nan rèv ou, dous.”

GIVE YOU THE WORLD | with 42!MILES MORALES

— where miles visits reader as the prowler .

fem!reader , reader does not know that miles is prowler…AT FIRST !! , miles and reader are exes , short fluff fic , black!reader

“so when you gon take the mask off?” you question, which pulls a laugh out off the masked man. “and why would i do that?”

you huff, “i don’t know. maybe because i got some masked dude in my room. who is known for killing, may i add. how is it gonna look if my parents walk in?”

“you have a point.”

he couldn’t take off the mask. you would shun him out of your life. again. and he can’t go through that again. he needed you.

“but i like to keep a private life. m-” he stopped himself. the name “ma” would’ve ratted him out. “mhm. one of these days, imma know who you are.” you smirk.

“you wish.” he did and didn’t want you to who he was.

did: if you found out, you’d see that he still cared for you after all this time, and he still wanted you.

didn’t: you wouldn’t see it that way. at all.

you yawn, “well, lemme get some sleep. i’ll see you tomorrow,” you throw on your silk bonnet, “my window is always open.”

“yeah…you should change that.” you laugh. “you’d pick it anyway,

miles.”

oh.

fucking.

shit.

CAUSE I LIKE HER | with MILES MORALES

— love triangle, am i right ?

— miles having to pick between you and gwen , love triangle , there will be no part two for this , left for your own imagination , angst

the pictures in this house showed how close you and miles were. every picture with him had you in it and vice versa. his parents loved you as there own.

obviously, there had to be some feelings being developed over the years. i mean, y’all even looked like a couple to the public. so what was the problem.

gwanda. or gwen.

after miles was accidentally bit by the radioactive spider, your relationship with him changed for the worst. you two barely saw each other and when you did, he always mentioned her.

“you should’ve seen the way she fought. she’s so cool, i swear.” he smiles, remembering the moment they had together. i hum in response, unamused.

“what’s wrong?” he finally looks at you for the first time in a while.

“all you do is talk about her. there hasn’t been one moment that we haven’t been together where is was just us. she’s not even here and i feel like i’m competing for your attention.”

your words leave miles in astonishment. “i…didn’t know you felt that way.” he frowns. “because i wanted you to feel happy but i can’t take it anymore.” you stand up.

“wait-where are you going?” “home.” he blinks at you, growing upset. “so are you going to make me choose? you both are my friends.” “that’s the thing. miles! you treat her more than a friend. you talk about her like you’re in love. and it hurts.”

“what do you mean?”

“use your head, morales.”

“i don’t-”

“i like you! i’ve liked you for a while!” you yell, making him widen his eyes.

you wait for a response, but nothing comes out. “y’know what, this is stupid.” you twist the knob, “ just be with her.” you leave his room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

PINK + WHITE | with 42!miles and 1610!miles

— how he knew he was in love with you.

42!miles x gn!reader | 1610!miles x gn!reader IF YOU ARE OLDER THAN 17 , GO AWAY ! !

he creased his jordans for you.

“hey! slow down!” he yells, chasing after you. “hurry up! we’re gonna be late.” you giggle, taking off. for being the prowler, he was starting to grow tired.

“i don’t understand why you’re running so fast.” he grunts.

as cliche as it is, he tripped over a pebble, falling. but he wasn’t mad that he almost got hurt. it was his shoes. he creased them. for you.

“they were limited edition!” he screams. “i’m gonna beat your ass when we get there.”

but he couldn’t. your face was too cute to hurt.

you smiled as you munched on your burger and fries.

“you gonna eat yours?” you point to his untouched food. but he wasn’t paying attention. you amazed him. how could you be so cute when you just did something oh so cruel.

you let him reference you.

“miles?” “hm?” he hums in response, not looking at you. just scribbling away with his marker. he had a cap in his mouth that he would briefly chew on to concentrate.

“how much longer do i have to sit here? my body is getting tired.” you moan. “just a second. you’re doing great.” he smiles at the paper.

at first, he was supposed to sketch some anatomy drawings for his art class. but he got carried away. there was multiple sketches of your face scattered around the paper.

every time he looked up at you, his heart warmed. you looked so beautiful. and it was unintentional. you just had it like that.

“you’re doing a lot of staring and not enough drawing, miles.” you giggle.

his cheeks heat up. “uh…yeah. sorry, i needed to see something.” he clears his throat. you are forever burned in his mind.

SUGAR | with 42!miles morales

— the big question , “do you love me?” pops up.

listen to “sugar” by brockhampton , she fell first but he fell harder type shit , fluff IF YOU ARE OLDER THAN 17 , GO AWAY ! MILES IS A MINOR ! !

3 am flashed on miles’ phone. no missed calls or messages from you. he was hoping you didn’t forget about him.

it was an unwritten rule between the two of you.

“don’t go to sleep without saying goodnight”

and you broke it.

he sighed, throwing his phone back on his bed, pulling a pillow over his face to scream in. sometimes he’d look at himself wondering how he could fold so fast for you.

like you have the most dangerous villain in brooklyn at your feet. and you don’t even know it.

his phone rings. he had never picked it up so quickly, smiling when he saw that it was you.

mi vida : sorry, i was caught up doing something.

morales : it’s fine. i was starting to get worried ngl💀

mi vida : well, gn miles :)

morales : gn ma

delivered

you had already clocked out. a lopsided frown covers his face. he wish the conversation wasn’t that short. he still wanted to stay up, texting you about some bullshit.

he stood at your front door with a gift basket and a teddy bear. he knew you couldn’t say no. once the door opened, a wave of nervousness washed over him.

“miles, what’s the occasion?” you gesture to the things he’s holding. “can i come in?” you nod, stepping aside.

he lets out a breath, taking your hands in his. “[ name ], i’ve liked you for a long time now. not even a like anymore. i love you.”

his word stun you. “do you love me? it’s okay if you don’t. we can—” “miles, shut up.” you laugh. “of course i like you.”

he smiles, “of course you did, who wouldn’t?” his arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“so what do couples do?”

I FUCKING HATE YOU | with 42!miles

— “why is miles such a fucking dick?”

part 2 of open arms (per request) , angst really , falling in and out of love , n word use (like one time) , toxic!miles , deep down he really does love you , cyber stalking IF YOU ARE OLDER THAN 17 , GO AWAY ! MILES IS A MINOR ! !

he waited in his room for you to come back. days turned into weeks. weeks turned into months. and those months turned into 3 years.

exactly today was the day that you left. he couldn’t believe it himself. after all those years you two spent together. wasted.

but he never left you alone.

after the incident in his room, you had blocked him on everything. but making new accounts is a thing.

he was the first one to like every single one of your posts. and he commented a single red heart.

he wasn’t obsessed. no. he just wanted you bad at all costs.

you didn’t know that it was him. and he was going to keep it that way.

when stalking your social media wasn’t enough, he had went to your school and got a visitors pass. he needed to see you.

you were so breathtaking from afar. which sacred him for when he sees you up close. he smiled as you talked to your friends. but then he wasn’t.

you kissed a guy. presumably your boyfriend.

he saw red.

you leave him just to find a boyfriend? pathetic.

later that night, he had followed you to your dorm room.

well, actually he broke in before you got in there.

“hey ma.” his voice was deeper than usual. like he’s upset. “miles?” you flick your light on, miles’ fave being the first you see, leaned up against your wall. “what are doing here? how did you find me?”

he chuckles, “you don’t keep a private life.” “you’re a fucking psycho.” he places his hand on his heart, “such hurtful word, mami.”

he stand up, inching closer to you. “who’s the nigga you be with?” his nose was touching yours. he had backed you into a wall. “that’s none of your concern.”

he smirks, “you don’t know, do you?” “what?” you clear your throat. “no matter where you go, i will find you. you’re mine.”

his eyes flashed a devilish glare.

he was fucking crazy.

his lips ghost over yours before spoke, “i love you.”, finally kissing you.

it was wrong, you know, but you’ve been dreaming on this since you were 13.

his hand cupped your neck, pulling you closer to him. you had accepted this.

you pulled away, needing to catch your breath. “jesus.” you chuckle. “don’t leave me again, please.”

“promise.”

taglist : @snowspidey @duckyduck25 @ca1ist0 @missusmorales

LOVE TRIANGLE ! ! | with both morales’

— what happens when you have both of the morales boys in love with you ?

— love triangle trope , best friends with miles , miles g being that annoying brother , best friends brother type thing , no smut but heavy heated making out … with miles g IF YOU ARE OLDER THAN 17 , GO AWAY ! THEY ARE BOTH MINORS ! !

best friends since the womb. your mama and mrs. morales with best friends before they were pregnant, which made you and the morales brothers become close.

well…only one morales brother.

miles g. was closed off and never wanted to be around you.

when the both of you were younger, he’s cut up your toys and your favorite clothes.

but miles?

he was an angel. your partner in crime. the both of you were always together at any given moment.

car pooling with mama morales? he would sit next to you. at a restaurant with them? miles was there next to you.

fast foward to teenage years

nothing has changed. well, except that they both have an alter ego. but miles still made it his job to still hang out with you.

and miles g….was just there.

he wasn’t really that mean anymore but he still teased you.

lightly punching you, pinching you, holding stuff over your head, tickling you out of nowhere.

deep down, you thought it was cute. he finally changed.

you couldn’t lie, you had feelings for both brothers. but you showed your feelings more for miles. he was your best friend.

then things changed drastically when miles started talking about gwen a lot.

you’d just be sitting in his room, trying to chill with him but he would just keep talking about gwen…while drawing her in his journal.

one day you had enough, you needed to get out his room. “i’m gonna watch tv in the living room.” he didn’t even notice what you said. he just kept ranting about the girl. you shook your head, leaving the room. there was miles g. “don’t you have a room with a playstation?” you lean on a wall, looking at him. he puts his controller down, looking at you. “this is my house, right?” you scoff, sitting next to him, “i think i can actually take watching you play this. better than listening to your brother.” you cross your arms. “whatchu mean?” “he won’t stop talking about some girl. like every time i’m with him, it’s about that girl.” he laughs, “he don’t know how to treat a girl.” you swing to him, “and you do? you just stopped terrorizing me after all these years.” you laugh. “want me to start again?” his hands grab your waist, flipping you on the couch where he is above you. “miles…?” he didn’t respond. he was too focused on your lips. he’s wanted to kiss them since was 13. “fuck.” he curses before pressing his lips on yours. in instinct, you wrapped your arms around his neck, telling him this was okay. he pulls away, a thin line of saliva connecting from both of your lips. “that’s new.” you laugh. “been wanted to do that, ma.” he pulls you on his lap. “you’re fine with this, right?” he wanted to kiss you once more. he needed to. “yeah. i’m good with it.” this time, you went in for the kiss. he was shocked at first but quickly loosened up. his hands rested on your thighs, squeezing them from time to time. “[ name ]? where’d you—” miles finally noticed you were gone and wanted to find you. but the scene he saw you in would burn in his mind forever. “what the fuck, miles?” miles pulled you off of his brother, pulling him up from his collar. all miles g could do was laugh, “all you did was talk about that white chick, what was she supposed to do?” you knew a fight was about to stir. you had to leave. your pillows were soaked with your tears. you almost had lost your best friend. but your phone was blowing up from the both of them. what were you gonna do?

can you do a earth 42 miles fic based on this?

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8eDAaJs/

SHE LOVE IT HERE ! ! | with 42!miles

— miles makes it known that you’re his !

— miles finally makes a tiktok with you , ex texts you again , a playful spank , jealously , n word being used once , fluff and crack IF YOU ARE OLDER THAN 17 , GO AWAY ! MILES IS A MINOR! !

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” you roll your eyes, your thumbs tapping away at the keyboard on your phone. “what’s wrong, ma?” miles leans over, seeing what’s on your phone.

“my ex is texting me again. right after i blocked him too. he just don’t let up.” you groan. “i got an idea.” you tilt your phone down, looking at him. “don’t kill the dude now.” “just roll with me.”

.

you were hung on his shoulder. “miles, if you drop me, we’re over.” “cálmate, mami. i got you.”

the video countdown ends.

oops! got your girl.

should’ve treated her right.

now she with a real nigga. she love it over here.

he turns around, the camera now filming you. “yeah, i love it over here!” you smile, giggle. before the video ends, he playfully slaps your ass.

“miles!”

can you do a miles e42 fix based off of broken clocks by sza

U LUV ME | with 42!miles

— it’s been 3 years since you’ve dated him. why he still talking about you like you together ? i’m not officially back but i just LOVE this concept. and i love sza🤭 ex!miles, both characters are like 17-18, reader has a younger sister, simp!miles fr, reader is still in love with miles but is stubborn, probably makes no sense whatsoever

“ma,” miles kneeled in front of you. “i’ll do anything to win you back. swear. i’ll drop the prowler job. anything.” his hands were wrapped around your legs as he begged for you to take him back.

“you swear?” you pull him up, he now towers over you. “swear.” his lip inch closer to yours “i lo—”

“WAKE THE FUCK UP!” your sister, nicknamed yaya, repeatedly hits you in the face with a pillow. “damn. i’m up, i’m up.” you sit up as she hits your back.

you grab the pillow, throwing it in her face. “i said i’m up.” “mama said you better be ready in 10 minutes or you’re gonna have to find another ride to work.”

you turn your head, looking at the clock.

it read 9:45.

shittt.

“get out so i can get dressed.”

*time skip*

you had barely made it in time for work. “hi, welcome to [ insert favorite cafe ], how can i—get out.” your voice was quickly filled with hatred. “chill, ma. i just wanted coffee.” the boy laughs. “not from here. go.”

you refused to serve him. you knew what was to come next.

“i miss you.”

“my mom won’t stop talking about you.” know well it was just him ranting about how he wanted you back.

“i want—”

“you want a caramel frappe, no whipped cream, a chocolate chip, warmed. i remember.” you deadpan. “i want something else.” your brows raise in shock, “so you have changed.”

“you.”

you groan. you bit your tongue, trying so hard not to yell at him to get out of your store. “i take that back.”

after completing his order, you slid him the drink and cookie, “that’ll be 12.65. cash or card?” he slid you a 50. “keep the change.” he walked off, sipping his newly made drink.

*time skip to the next day*

the day before was stressful. you had karens upset bc you didn’t give them a drink at 75 degree exact, too many customers, not enough staff. it was a miracle you made it out alive.

your sleep once you got home was well deserved. it was peaceful.

until the next morning. your phone was blown up by your best friend trying to get your attention.

[ name ] ! when did u and miles get back together ?

[ name ] girl wake the fuck up.

i know you see these messages. don’t make me come to your house.

answer me hoe😡

you quickly unlock your phone,

“tf r u talking abt?”

he posted on his private story. sum abt “when you two talk it out and cuddle” some shit like that. the caption had you name on it

your head hangs low when they sent the screenshot.

this motherfucker is really delusional.

“we never got back together. tf is he on?”

you threw on some clothes, storming your way to miles’ house.

you knew his mother had work at this time so you have no mercy to his front door. “miles, open this fucking door. imma kick it down.” your tone let him know you were pissed. he opens the door, “what are you mad about ma?”

you raise your phone at his face. “what is this?” he leans back, getting a good look at it. “oh, i was letting people know you’re mine.” you tilt your head, eyes squinted. “are you fucking crazy? what part of “we’re broken up” do you not understand? we ain’t together. end of story.”

he laughs, making you more upset. “that’s what you think. why do you think no one has asked you out yet?” he smirks. “because they know that you’re mine. anybody who wants you gotta go through me first. and you and me both know that’s not gonna end well.” he snickers.

“miles—” “i’m not done.” he cuts you off. “look, i know me being the prowler affected our relationship. but i’m done with that. completely. i’m focused on you right now. i’m tryna do better for you.” he suddenly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“i’m yours.”

you smirk at him. “and how do i know you don’t have any hoes in your phone right now?” “be reasonable right now.” he smile drops, his nostrils flaring. “okay, i was joking.” you laugh.

“so, what’s this mean ma?” you purse your lips, “i guess we can get back together.” he grins, pulling you closer. “you don’t know how much i missed you. and this ass—” his hands squeeze your ass before you smack his hands away.

“i can always change my mind, miles.” “okay, i was just kidding.”

earth 42 miles fic where like he’s bestfriends with reader at the time and she wants to go to a party buts it’s a i’ll go if you go type deal pls

“look, i’m not going if your not going. plain and simple.” you rub your lip gloss wand over you lips one last time before popping your lips.

“then why are you dressing up right now?” miles’ lies on his bed, throwing a ball in the air. “because i know you’re coming with.” you shrug as he groans. “i don’t know who’s all going to be there.” “does it matter? i go everywhere with you with no complaints.” you argue. “i never asked you to.” he counters.

“you’re an asshole.” you throw your lip gloss in your purse slung over shoulder, leaving his bedroom. “okay, fine! i’m going.” he groans, getting up from his bed.

“good. and dress nice. we need to find you a girlfriend by the end of the night.”

Hey sweetie, I’ve been a real big fan. Can you write some HCS or a fic about the both Miles being twins?

a/n: ABSOLUTELY 10000% YES. i had way too much fun with this oml. and omg thank you you’re so sweet! 😭 btw, let’s just pretend that in this au they don’t have the same name since they’re ‘twins’ lmao

— headcanons. miles and miles as twins

Twins? Yes. Polar opposites? Definitely.

They both have a completely different sense of style, but one thing they have in common is that they both love Jordan’s. However I feel like miles!42 is a full blown sneakerhead. Has the better collection and often finds miles!1610 wearing his shoes, because somehow 42 always manages to win the snkrs raffles.

“Are those my brand new fuckin’ 4s?” “Uh… no?” “Take my shit off before I tweak out.”

42 keeps his side of the room squeaky clean, gets upset if there’s even a sock that does not belong to him on his side

Absolutely hates the song Sunflower. Cannot stand it, makes him wanna rip his hair out. The minute it came out 1610 played it into the dirt and 42 swears he can still hear it in his dreams till this day

1610 is the more affectionate one (outwardly) while 42 likes to pretend he’s completely devoid of that as if he doesn’t love his brother with everything in him.

“You got exactly three seconds to get off me.” “Just hug me back, damn!”

They’re the kind of brothers to open soundcloud, turn on a random trap beat and see who can go the longest freestyling. They do that thing where guys bring their fist to their mouths and squeal and shove each other out of excitement when they get a good flow going back and forth

42 is definitely the athletic type, plays football and soccer. 1610 is more in tune with his artistic side. Will play sports for fun but doesn’t care for them like that

42 is introverted as hell, doesn’t really like talking to people. 1610 is more of a social butterfly

They’ve never once liked the same girl. Ever. Their taste is drastically different

“Bro, you like a white girl?” “…Yes? What does her race have to do with anything?” “See me personally—“. “Literally nobody fucking asked.”

Used to help each other break out of their cribs when they were babies. Either that or Jeff and Rio would wake up to find that 42 had climbed into 1610’s crib after they’d been put down and slept with him instead. it was impossible to keep them apart from each other, so eventually they just broke down the second crib and let them use the one.

You can tell who is who in their baby pictures. You guessed it, 42 was the oddly solemn one who always wanted to play by himself. They worried about him for a bit. They also had to tickle him as an attempt to get him to smile in pictures, and just their luck, he’s never been ticklish

When they were eight years old, 1610 accidentally broke the wolverine action figure 42 never went anywhere without, and 42 cried about it for three days straight

They definitely ask for each other’s opinions on their outfits

“Do you think this shirt goes with these pants?” “The entire outfit is black… how would it not go together?”

They both obviously love their mother but 42 is the biggest mama’s boy. Always in the kitchen helping her cook, will watch her telenovelas with her and actually keep up with the plot. He’ll willingly follow her to the grocery store or accompany her on her ridiculously long Ross/Tjmaxx sprees because he likes hanging out with her

They terrorize the fuck outta their dad and have been doing so since they entered this world because they think it’s funny. Stupid shit like dying his boxers pink, or looking up a cracked tv screen video on youtube just to watch him nearly have a heart attack thinking they broke it. They used to twin-swap when they were younger to get out of certain things, but it’s 100% impossible to pull off now. They’re way too different, physically and mentally

Uncle Aaron took 42 to get his ears pierced when he was thirteen, something 1610 would never do. Rio basically had an aneurysm when he came home with them in and Jeff was not pleased but Aaron took the blame for it, said it was his idea. 42 made up some bullshit lie about how if he takes them out before they heal completely they’ll get infected. Still has them in till this day

42 is exactly fourteen minutes older and refuses to let 1610 hear the end of it, but 1610 is taller by an inch and weighs a little more.

“I don’t know why you’re talking shit like I’m not older than you. Pipe down lil’ bro.” “Sorry, is someone talking to me right now? Cause I sure as hell can’t see ‘em.” “Nigga it’s ONE INCH”

They’re definitely scrapping over that, and both get smacked upside their heads by Mama Rio for fighting with each other

42 needs the tv and the fan on, SIMULTANEOUSLY when he sleeps or he’ll be up the entire night. 1610 can’t stand it

1610 will try and turn the fan off after his brother’s been asleep for probably two hours, thinking he’s in the clear until he hears—

“Do you value your life? Turn my damn fan back on.”

Deep down 42 is a big ass softie and loves spending time with 1610, he has no idea what he’d do without him. He’s just not the best at expressing it. 1610 teases him about it simply because he enjoys aggravating his other half

“You still got plans with Ganke tonight?” “Nah, his mom’s dragging him to some baby shower.” “Oh, cool, cool… So what movie are we watching?” “Huh?” “Huh—Headass. What movie are we watching tonight?” “Sorry, I’m not understanding. Are you—asking to spend time… with me?” “Damn, I need to say it in Spanish? Matter fact, you probably won’t understand that either. No sabo ass.”

e42 miles reaction to his gf calling him bro?

I LOVE THIS PROMPT OMG

NOT YOUR BRO ✮ e!42 miles x fem reader

You and Miles were in the kitchen helping Rio cook dinner. Halfway through making dinner, Rio had to make an emergency stop at the grocery store, claiming that she’d forgotten the most crucial ingredient in the recipe. 

“You kids stay here and finish up dinner while I go grab the onions,” She said, quickly taking off her apron and grabbing her purse.

“Mami I’ll go, it’s not safe out there right now,” Miles interjected.

Rio shook him off, “It’s just across the street Mijo, you stay here and help y/n with dinner,” And with that, Rio was gone.

A comfortable silence fell upon the kitchen as you and Miles continued to make dinner, that was until Miles began to cut the tomatoes…

“Bro what are you doing! You’re gonna cut yourself!” You cried, quickly grabbing the knife from Miles’ hand. “That’s not how you hold a knife Miles, you have to grip it tighter,” You scolded, before demonstrating to him how to cut the tomatoes.

Miles stared at you blankly, not even paying attention to what you were saying, “Hey are you even listening to me right now Miles?” You asked annoyed.

“What’d you call me earlier?” Miles asked completely ignoring your question.

“Miles that’s not important right now I’m trying to teach-”

Miles began to walk towards you until your back was to the kitchen counter, he was towering over you. You looked up at him with concerned eyes.

“What was it that you called me earlier huh? Your bro?” Miles leaned in closer, your faces only a few inches apart, “I’m not your bro y/n.”

You stayed silent, not knowing what to say to Miles’ sudden outburst. He chuckled, “Wow baby, now you decide to be silent, huh?” 

“Tell me what I am y/n.”

“Y-You’re my boyfriend Miles.” 

“Now that wasn’t so hard to say, was it? I better not catch you calling me bro again ma,” He said before leaning in for a kiss.

Suddenly the apartment door busted open and in came Rio, “MILES COME HELP ME WITH THE GROCERIES.”

a/n: i hope this was good!! feel free to request me shit

earth 42 miles reaction to reader hanging up the phone on his face mid argument?

— facetime

pairing: e-42!miles (aged up) x fem!reader

contains: arguing, minimal cursing, slightly toxic behavior lol

summary: you love miles, but his overbearing nature is beginning to irritate you. the two of you get into an argument over it on facetime, and you snap at him and hang up the phone. wc: 1,537

a/n: ik the pic might not make sense regarding who hung up on who, but i like it so we finna pretend it does lol. miles/reader are only aged up for plot

“look mami, you not hearin’ me. i’m not tryna control you, i’m just saying maybe it would be best if-“

“that is literally you trying to control me.”

you cut miles off from another one of his mini tangents as you stared at him through the facetime call on your screen, so far beyond the point of caring to hear the same thing he’d told you a million times.

you loved your boyfriend with everything in you. honestly, you did. but in the last few months he’d grown to be so much more controlling than he was in the beginning, a result of his ridiculous need to protect you and it’s got your head spinning on your shoulders. you couldn’t do anything without him looming over you, and you’re fed up. it was suffocating, and you needed him to know that you could handle yourself.

you heard his voice come in again from your phone’s speakers.

“aight fine, if that’s what you wanna think, then that’s cool. but i don’t want you going out that late, chiquita, simple. ain’t no discussion.”

“alright, bro.” you sighed, and he tutted at you.

“i’m not your ‘bro’. don’t do that.”

while you knew your boyfriend only wanted the best for you, you didn’t really understand the extent to all these rules he’d given you. like no going to the corner store at night, having to keep your location on at all times, or having to send a picture of yourself when you’d gotten back into the house— so he could really make sure it was actually you texting him from your phone.

since then, you’d deemed it safe to assume that he most likely had immense trust issues, and that was why he acted so strangely, because any other reason for this kind of behavior seemed ludicrous to you.

miles had yet to tell you he was the prowler, that certain people had bounties on his head, which included anyone who may be involved with him, anyone he holds close to him. he saw everything that went on in this city— when night had fallen and the streets became far too dangerous of a place for a defenseless girl like you to be out in them. you had no idea the kind of people he dealt with, the things he’d seen, the things he had to do. he just didn’t want you to get hurt, but he wasn’t the best at expressing the sincerity of his words, and they often came out too rough, too harsh. it was the best he could do, he was trying to communicate effectively, he really was. but time and time again you’d failed to try and understand his pleas past the words spoken to you; to actually listen to them, and comprehend them, and not just listen to respond.

so, being you, you retorted like the stubborn girl you always were. the stubborn girl he’d fallen so helplessly in love with and was only trying to protect with his entire being.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him in disbelief. “look, you can’t tell me what to do, miles. i can do what i want.”

he didn’t hear anything that came from your mouth, because the expression on your face had completely distracted him from the conversation at hand.

“hol’ on, did you just roll your eyes at me?” his brow raised, daring you to answer that question with anything but a ‘no’.

what you responded with wasn’t necessarily a ‘yes’ per sé, but it definitely wasn’t any better.

“oh, so you wanna control my face now, too? dictating what i do with my life or the shit i say isn’t enough for you?” you challenged.

his head dipped back as he laughed, a deep, provoked laugh— though the both of you knew nothing was funny, and that this was always how he reacted before he actually got angry. laughing it off was a means for him to screw his head back on right, as if a warning to you to not push him too far, because anybody who spoke to him with this kind of gall just had to be joking.

he exhaled heavily, a hand scrubbing down his face.

“can’t lie, you talkin’ mad crazy right now, ma. i think you need to cool it with that.” he warned, corners of his lips turned into a forewarning leer. “ima let that lil’ shit you just said slide, cause i love you, and ion wanna hurt your feelings, but we done talking about this.” he decided, leaning forward to prop his phone back up on his desk before scooping his playstation controller back up into his hands.

“and watch your mouth.”

chin retreating towards your chest, you were taken aback at how quickly he decided for the both of you that the conversation was over, as if you had to agree with him, as if things were decided simply because he’d said so. and somehow, you found it in all your unbridled nerve to make things worse.

“yeah, you’re right. we are.”

thumb pressing to the red X, you hung up the phone, leaving miles to gape at the black of his screen with shock etched into his features. he waited for you to call back and tell him it was an accident, and sat there for a minute, leg bouncing to maintain what little patience he’d managed to cling onto during this entire ordeal. he swallowed his pride and called you back, only for the screen to read ‘facetime unavailable’ after just two rings. you declined it. squaring his jaw, he calmly nodded to himself, phone snatched up, jacket thrown on and controller tossed onto his bed— game forgotten about.

“bet.”

____

you were fuming after you’d hung up the phone, steam probably would’ve been puffing from your ears if something like that were possible outside of the cartoons. there was a tiny part—no, a huge part of you that knew you shouldn’t have hung up on him like that; that regretted it. a part that knew miles’ was genuinely trying his best to speak to you calmly in the way he’d learned how, specifically for you, when calm was something he rarely ever felt. but you couldn’t help your anger either, and figured a break from the conversation, and a shower to calm you down would do the both of you some good.

you sauntered out your bathroom after about twenty minutes, a towel tightly wrapped round your damp torso and a heavy, depleted exhale departing from your lungs.

you felt relaxed. the heat of the water had washed away most, if not all of your anger towards the situation and you sighed to yourself, ready to come back to the discussion with a level head, and to apologize to your boyfriend for snapping at him and ending the call so abruptly. it was rude of you, and honestly you hadn’t thought it through until you had already—

“you know, ion usually fuck with cats like that, cause y’all kinda freak me out. but you cool.”

the inner dialogue of your thoughts were cut off by a familiar voice, muffled through the shut door of your bedroom.

“what the fuck—“ you hurriedly started towards the door, hand barely remaining on the doorknob for a second as you flung it open, to see none other than your boyfriend, miles, sat in your desk chair with your cat, bella, in his lap.

he was leaned back, his large green puffer jacket still on, legs spread in his grey sweats. he looked very comfortable for someone who had just broken into a home.

“how the hell did you get into my house, miles?”

you stared at him unbelievingly, quickly shutting the door behind you. he was in no rush to lift his head to address you directly as he scratched the underside of bella’s chin with his pointer finger.

“window. you should really lock that.”

“even if i had, you would’ve picked it.” you argued.

“true.”

his eyes eventually met yours, and they gave you a drawn out once over, gaze following the drops of water that rolled down your skin. there was a hint of a smirk on his lips, and he almost forgot what he came here for. almost.

you felt your face heat up, grip tightening over your bath towel as you shifted on your feet, suddenly feeling flustered from the boldness of his gaze. so he looked away.

“let’s hope that shower gave your mama some of her sense back, huh?” he dipped his head down to address your cat in a sweet voice, before gently lifting her off his lap and placing her back onto the floor, only for her to drag her head and body along his calf with a purr. traitor.

he leaned back once more, hands patiently clasped between his open legs and head cocked to the side, twin braids swishing behind him when he did so.

“so wassup? you wanna try that conversation again?” with a brow raised he studied your features, as if he were silently challenging you to talk that same shit you did over the phone to his face.

“do you know what boundaries are?”

“nah, not really.” he admitted.

you swallowed, gesturing towards the open room for a reason you didn’t know why.

“can i at least get dressed first?” you cringed at how your voice sounded when you spoke, but the way he was looking at you had your mind reeling and you could only focus on one thing at a time— the argument long forgotten. to be honest, you don’t even recall what you had a problem with.

he shrugged. “sure, if that’s what you’d like.” arms crossing over his chest he spun around in your swivel chair, now facing the same window he’d come in through. “lemme know when i can turn around.”

you sighed.

this boy was going to be the death of you.

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

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

— besos

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

a/n: this is my gif! it took so long to find this clip + make it into a gif so pls give credit if you use it lol

summary: your makeup leaves kiss imprints all over miles’ face and neck, which you quickly have to figure out how to hide from his mother. wc: 1,033

contains: fluff, teenage romance

word bank: “besos” - kisses, “enamorado” - lover boy, “mijo” - son, “dios mio” - my god

“Hold still…”

Your soft lips pressed testimonies of your love upon the surface of Miles’ smooth skin, your giggles of excitement muffled as you kissed his temple, the apple of his cheek, the tip of his nose, the corner of his lips— anywhere you could easily reach, really.

Steady hands cradled the dip of your back to keep you in your straddled position on his lap, gentle fingers ghosting over the fold of your waistband and one of his eyes pinched closed in preparation for more of your frenzied affection.

“Jeez, you love me love me, huh?” he laughed, his answer presented to him in the way your kisses began to trail along his jaw, then started further down the column of his neck, his pulse gently thrumming against your gloss-tinted lips as the pace of his heart quickened.

His tongue quickly swiped at his chapped lips and he allowed his eyes to fall closed with a light sigh, enjoying himself for just a moment, until the distant sound of pots clinking brought him back to where he really was, in his room, with his mother just a few paces outside, resulting in a gentle warning pat against the curve of your hip.

“Alright, alright, chill.” he chuckled breathily, slowly pulling away from you to lean back on his hands and take you in, drinking in the image of how cute you looked on his lap like this.

He didn’t need a mirror to see what his face looked like, the slightly shocked expression on yours as you covered your laugh with a hand was enough for him to go off of.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

You opened your mouth to speak, to tell him it wasn’t, to tell him that his face wasn’t lavished in the remnants of your brown lip gloss and liner— but you couldn’t. He was covered in them, prints of your lips garnished all over his handsome features. Your lips split apart and came back together like a fish out of water, so you simply settled for another stifled snicker and a head nod instead.

“You do know if my mom sees this on my face it’s our asses, right?” he reminded you, and as if on cue, you heard his mother’s voice project from outside, your spine standing straight, just like the hairs on the back of your neck.

“Mijo, food is ready, come eat!”

Stunned eyes locked onto Miles’ for a beat, just to see if they were as wide as yours, or if they held just as much panic— and they did. Without a word spoken you scrambled off his lap faster than you’d even gotten there in the first place, his mirroring of your movements almost causing him to tumble off the bed. The room was thrust into a discord of silenced chaos for a few panicked seconds, your body spinning in two aimless half-circles with disoriented, wafting hands; as if the ridiculous looking movement could actually assist your anxiety frazzled brain in coming up with a plan.

Miles ruffled his sheets, hands frantically splaying around to find anything that would be useful in this moment until a shirt came into your view— a hurried, whisper-shout of his name tearing from your throat to get his attention. You swiftly kicked it up from the floor with your foot, flinging it towards his face and watching as his hand shot out in front of him to catch it not even a second after you’d punted it.

The graphic t-shirt you’d found managed to scrub his face clean of the incriminating evidence, not that you had much time to check the success rate of that as you were rushed out of the room hastily, your boyfriend’s hands plastered against the lower-middle of your back to usher you out the room in large steps, your feet having to shuffle to keep up.

“Dios mio, mile—!“ his mother’s voice fell short when the two of you chaotically stumbled your way into the kitchen, your lips tucked into themselves as you stood at attention, hands politely clasped behind you, while Miles was off to the side, shoulder leaned against the adjacent wall, legs crossed and hands on his hips. Totally not suspicious.

“Oh,” she blinked, giving the two of you a quick once over. The first thing she noticed was her son’s unusual demeanor, his eyes big and brows raised high, an expression he only wore when he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to be. But what really gave it away was the strange distance of a few feet wedged between the both of you. Just over an hour ago you guys had embraced one another in a long hug after he’d opened the door to let you in—right in front of her— and now, you were suddenly acting as if you were scared to even be near each other, like you were nervous to breathe the same air in her presence.

“Mm,” she turned back towards the stove to turn the rice over in the pot, allowing the both of you to exhale a trembled breath of relief, one you realized came prematurely merely milliseconds after it left your lungs. “I think you may have missed one, enamorado.” (lover boy)

Eyes almost blowing from your skull, you swallowed hard and reluctantly shifted your head up towards your boyfriend, who was frozen in place, your gaze dropping down to the slightly smeared gloss and lip liner against the skin of his neck; a painfully visible reminder of your previous tryst.

The knowing smirk that pulled at the corner of his mother’s lips went overlooked, just as Miles let his chin fall to his chest, his arm folding over his torso and his opposite hand slapping over his abashed expression, a defeated sigh sounding from behind it.

“I’ll help you with the plates, mama rio.” you voiced your offer quietly and cleared your throat as you went to slip in beside her, which she obliged to with a light chuckle.

“Sure, sweetie.”

“I’m-“ Miles sighed, scratching the back of his neck timorously and scanning the area for an escape before a tentative finger pointed into the dining room. “I’m gonna go over there.” He decided with a swooped nod, long legs carrying him from a scolding he knew he would have to come back to once you were gone.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works onto any other sites!

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

— broken promises

pairing: earth 42 miles x fem!reader

summary: while earth 42 miles comes off a lot tougher than 1610’s based off his cold demeanor and his trauma induced apathy, somewhere under that hard shell, he’s still the sweet boy he used to be and wants love just like anyone else. miles is aged up to 17 in this, simply for the plot! wc: 2,640

contains: spoilers!!! angst to fluff

word bank: “mi vida” - my life, “mi amor” - my love

playing now: Wasted Love Freestyle by Jhene Aiko

You and Miles have been dating for 7 months now, and lately he hasn’t been around as much as he’d like to, for obvious reasons. Well, not obvious to you. You still don’t know that Miles is the Prowler, and he’s intent on keeping it that way.

It’s the third time he’s flaked on plans he arranged himself this month, and he can tell you’re beyond tired of it with the way you just blew his phone up.

— Miles POV —

Miles’ phone buzzes in his pocket but he decides against checking it, marking it off as something unimportant. He’s already accepted a job from his Uncle and a distraction wouldn’t do him any good right now.

8:03 PM

Mi Vida: please don’t tell me you’re doing this again bro.

Mi Vida: this is a joke, right?

Mi Vida: hello?? you were supposed to be outside thirty minutes ago.

Mi Vida: Miles Gonzalo Morales I swear to GOD if I don’t hear your motorcycle revving outside in the next five minutes so help me.

*buzz buzz*

Ignored.

*buzz buzz*

*buzz buzz*

He kissed his teeth, lashes fluttering in aggravation and air puffing through his nostrils at the continuous buzzing against his leg. His shoulder fell to the side a bit as he reached down into his pocket to grab his phone while he climbed up the stairwell, following his uncle. Seeing your contact name on his lock screen, his brow raised as he read over the message, then they bunched together in the middle of his forehead incredulously, the tone of your texts causing his strides to falter.

Miles was genuinely confused for a moment, trying to think back on if he’d done anything to upset you, until the memory of him assuring you he wouldn’t do this again slapped him across the face harder than his mom did that one time he’d cursed at her on accident. The two of you had a date planned for tonight, and he swore to you he’d be there this time, fifteen minutes early at that, even though he knew there was a big chance he wouldn’t be able to make it all. It was selfish of him to promise something he couldn’t guarantee, knowing how demanding the other factors in his life were, but he was so tired of disappointing you, and how happy you looked when he told you you guys would finally get to spend some time together really had him thinking he could make it work this time.

Eyes falling shut for a beat, a heavy sigh leaves his lips, tongue darting out to dampen them as he quickly tries to think of something to respond with that won’t piss you off more than you already are.

He texts you back: sorry Mami, something came up yk how it is. i got you tomorrow tho fasho

Yeah. Real smooth.

*buzz buzz*

Mi Vida: yk what, just forget it, Miles.

Damn, she called me by my first name? I definitely fucked up this time. He thinks to himself.

Mi Vida: whoever you’re with is clearly more important to you than what we got goin on, so it’s cool. stay where you at, i’m done

Shit.

His heart beats a little faster in his chest, the sensation a semblance of something he hadn’t felt in years. Fear. He texts back as fast he can, head snapping up to see he’s fallen behind his Uncle, and he hurriedly jumps a few stairs before he comes to a stop again.

Miles: done??? the fuck you mean you done?

You don’t respond fast enough for his liking, so he double texts.

Miles: baby stop playin. you trippin it ain’t even like that at all

Mi Vida: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

He utters a string of curses under his breath, alerting his Uncle who had already noticed he was falling behind when he heard the inconsistency of his nephew’s footsteps. He’s ample steps above Miles, turning his head only slightly over his shoulder to address the distracted teenager.

“C’mon man, get off the phone. We got business to tend to. You in or you out?” Aaron asks. “You know I can’t have nobody holdin’ me back.” There’s a hint of something deeper playing within his words, and Miles knows he doesn’t have a choice.

He swallows hard as he looks up at the older man. Taking one last look down at his phone, his jaw clenches in contemplation before he’s shaking his head with a quiet sigh and shoving it back into his pocket. He’ll have to deal with this later.

“My fault. Yeah, I’m in.” He mumbles, doing a quick jog to catch up to the man.

His uncle’s lips quirk into a smirk, a heavy hand coming down to clap Miles’ back and squeeze his shoulder.

“My man. Aight, let’s roll.”

— Your POV —

8:05 PM

You: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

You watch closely as the three dots bubble at the bottom left corner of your screen, an indicator that he was typing. But instead, a quiet scoff slips from your mouth when they disappear, your shoulders slumping in disappointment at the word that appears below your last message.

Seen

You angrily toss your phone onto your bed, bottom lip quivering when you catch a glance at yourself in the mirror when you walk by. You’d gotten dressed up all nice just for him, because you knew the chance of him being free for a night to take you out was rare. You’d started your makeup early just to make sure he wouldn’t have to wait outside for you while you finished, and you’d even styled your hair the way you knew he liked. All for nothing.

You kicked your shoes off and dropped your purse to the ground, heading to your bathroom to undo all your work. You washed all the makeup off your face, the act feeling more humiliating than ever when you remembered why you’d even put it on in the first place. To feel pretty for someone who barely even showed up.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm down, hastily reaching back over to check your phone just one more time. Maybe he was thinking of what to say, and that’s why he’d left you on seen.

Seen 25 minutes ago

Maybe not.

You hated crying. And more than anything you were tired of doing it, especially when broken promises were the cause of your wasted tears. Your evening was basically wasted, and you weren’t in the mood to do anything else anyway, so you decided that you’d call it a night and head to bed early. You slipped on some comfy sleep shorts, tying your hair up for the night before grudgingly tugging a large t-shirt over your head. Your brow perked up at the scent that wafted past your nostrils, and pinching the shirt with your forefinger and thumb, you brought the fabric to your nose and immediately caught a whiff of Miles’ cologne. You then realized you’d put on a shirt you stole from him a while back, and the way your heart fluttered made you even more upset than you already were. You brushed it off to the best of your ability and crawled into bed, trying your hardest to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you pulled your blankets over your shoulder.

____

As soon as he’d gotten the job done and his Uncle gave him the okay to dip, Miles’ feet were moving at the speed of light down the stairwell. And while he had sort of rushed the plays he made with some of the city’s goons, he just had to pray that all his Uncle’s money was in the banded wad of cash he returned with, or it would be his ass.

Skipping a few steps he hopped down onto the platform before the next set, checking his phone for the time simultaneously.

10:15 PM

“Damn.” He groaned, pushing through the doors, cool wind hitting his face. Once he reached his motorcycle he shoved his helmet over his head, hopped on, and sped off with a “skrrrt”.

He sped through the streets carelessly, something you definitely would’ve scolded him for had you been riding on the back of his bike with him, with your arms tight around his waist to hold on like you always did. He bobbed and weaved through cars, lane splitting between a few of them and he may have even ran a red, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to remember. All he could focus on was that you said you were “done”, whatever the hell that meant, and he was adamant on making sure you weren’t.

____

You didn’t know when you’d dozed off, three steady knocks, a fourth one after a pause hitting against your window, resulting in your eyes snapping open at the disruption. You sat up on your mattress, the ball of your hand rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you peered across the room. Once they adjusted in the darkness and you recognized the familiar, lanky body of your boyfriend standing outside on the fire escape, the events of just two hours ago played over in your mind like a record.

With a roll of your eyes, you huffed and swung your legs over the side of your bed, pushing yourself onto your feet. Miles watched as you sleepily trudged over to the window, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, head slightly lowered and tilted to the side, as if he were already apologizing before you’d even made it to him.

Hooking your fingers underneath the edge of your window, with a quiet grunt you pulled it up, effectively lifting the barrier between your bodies. You instantly felt your yearning for him come back full force, and wanted nothing more than to throw yourself into his arms, but you restrained. Your eyes met his, the cool night air breezing into your room, and his heart clenched. Somehow he was able to feel the coolness in your demeanor, yet the cold weather hadn’t bothered him at all.

He was the first to speak.

“Hola, Mami.” He sized you up once, taking notice of your eyes that were slightly puffy from crying.

His voice was like silk to your ears, alluring and confident, almost hypnotizing, and it aggravated you that you felt yourself gravitating towards him off two simple words.

“Why are you here, Miles?” You sighed, arms slapping at your sides in exasperation.

He looked slightly taken aback, chin lifting a bit as if you’d asked something completely outlandish.

“What you mean why I’m here? You my girl, shit, this my crib too.” He shrugged, so nonchalant, as if nothing had happened. You wondered if it had even been him texting you earlier.

“You left me on seen, remember? Stood me up, too?” Your head cocked to the side to match the attitude in your tone, brows raising at him. What excuse would he use this time?

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling heavily before he spoke up again.

“I was… busy. Look, my bad, okay? You gon’ let me in or what? Ian come all the way over here to stand outside.” He demanded with a gesture towards the opening, his hazel eyes glinting in the moonlight and thawing the ice that’d been temporarily encased around your heart. There was the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips, because he already knew the answer.

Your lips pursed and you stepped to the side, a laggard arm stretched out beside you, silently granting him access to your room.

He stepped through the window frame and you closed it after him, his hands folding around the collar then the hem of his jacket as he adjusted it and turned towards you.

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Miles. It isn’t fair.” You mumbled, hating the way your voice split your words.

His head dipped to the side a bit as he took in your solemn expression and the way your gaze was cast to the floor, as if you were trying to contain your tears. He wasn’t the best at this, he knew that, and showing affection effectively really wasn’t his strong suit. He usually made it up to you by bringing you a few hundreds he’d made from a deal, paired with some roses he’d picked up on the way to your house at the last second— but you both knew paper and flowers wouldn’t fix it this time.

“I’m sorry, I mean it.” He said, reaching for your hand to bring you close and grateful when your eyes finally lifted to lock onto his, although seeing them tear-filled wrapped him in a deep-seated emotion he didn’t even want to acknowledge.

Miles rarely said he was sorry. If ever. Did he apologize? Yes, but it was usually a ‘my bad’ or a ‘my fault’, or some other term that’d get the point across without him have to use too much emotion. Hearing the words ‘I’m sorry’ from him was an anomaly, it happened once in a blue moon, so this time you knew he really meant it. In your heart you knew he meant it, but that didn’t stop the tear you’d been trying to keep at bay from rolling down your cheek.

His thumb caught the tear almost instantly, swiping it from the soft of your skin. It didn’t belong there, and he hated to be the reason why you were crying in the first place.

“Where do you disappear to, Miles?” You sniffled.

He sighed, glancing back over at the window. He considered telling you the truth, but he knew he couldn’t.

“I’m just tryna keep you safe, ma.”

“You always say that!” You squeaked, making sure to keep your voice down, you had technically snuck him in. You ripped your hand from his grasp, turning your face away from him as another tear fell. “Do you not trust me or something? Is that it?”

“Of course I trust you,” His eyebrows knit together at your question and he stole your hand from your side again.

“So why can’t you tell me?” You pleaded, eyes big and glossy.

“I just-“ He paused. “I can’t let you get hurt. The shit I do…” You watched as he hesitated, like even speaking about the subject pained him. “It ain’t good.” He swallowed, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I’ll be damned if I put you in the middle of my shit. I love you… okay?” He moved closer to you, and when you turned from him once again he brought your face right back to his, this time with both his hands. He wasn’t going to let you go, and while Miles was rough around the edges, and seemingly devoid of any emotion other than anger or resentment for the world—he always handled you with care.

“I love you, Y/n, I put that on everything. I’ll burn this whole world down for you, you hear me? Don’t think I won’t.” He stared into your eyes longingly, intent on making sure you didn’t just hear every word, but that you understood them, too.

You couldn’t help but lean into his hand, your own coming up to hold at his wrist as you inhaled shakily and gave him a bleak nod.

That wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hear you say it.

“Do you understand?” He articulated his words, bringing his head down slightly to match your height a bit more.

“I understand.” You said softly, looking up at him through your lashes before your gaze fell to his lips. He took that as his sign, leaning forward and bringing you into a kiss.

You melted into him immediately, like you always did, eyes fluttering closed as your lips moved against his, and as his hands fell to your hips to pull you in closer, like they always did.

You broke the kiss for air, your hand resting on his bicep and your lips ghosting his as you spoke, as you shared the same breath. “I love you too…” You breathed, standing on your toes.

“Good,” You felt him grin before he pulled away, his hand pinching your chin to make you look at him. “Cause you not leaving me, ever. I can’t let no one else have you, Mami, you know that.” He cooed.

You felt heat flush your cheeks, a smile you couldn’t hide finally spreading on your face.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” You answered, chewing at your bottom lip. “Can you stay?” You whispered, eyes shifting between his hopefully as you awaited his answer.

“Ah…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, piping up again before you could get disappointed. “What about your moms?”

“She sleeps in on the weekends, you just gotta be outta here by nine. Please, pa?” You whined, already reaching for his hands.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head slightly, having to look away from the adorable look on your face. He tried to remain in denial of the fact that he was so deep in love with you he could hardly think sometimes, let alone say no, but he was failing. Miserably.

“Of course I’ll stay, mi amor.”

Your expression lit up, a toothy smile brightening your features as he let you lead him to your bed.

He made sure to remove his shoes before he laid down, settling on his back. He extended his arm out to you as he tucked the other behind his head, motioning for you to join him with his fingers.

You crawled into his open embrace, getting comfortable on top of his chest and nuzzling your head under his chin. You began to feel drowsy the second he wrapped his arm around you, a yawn leading your eyes to water. His hand slowly moved from where it was resting on your back, dipping beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his skin against yours comforting to you. His large hand rubbed up and down the expanse of your back, the tips of his fingers drawing lines along your spine— you always fell asleep easier when he did that. You listened to the steady beating of his heart, fingers idly toying with the gold chain he kept around his neck.

“I’m really sorry I ain’t make it tonight. I know you prolly got all pretty for me n’shit… and I wish I got to see it, but that’s on me.” He grumbled. He’d beat himself up over this for a while.

“S’okay.” You say it is, but he knows it’s not. He knows better. “I missed you.” Your quiet voice murmured from below him as you scooted in impossibly closer.

His jaw tensed as he stared up at your ceiling, a deep breath from his diaphragm raising you a little bit with his chest, and lowering you as he released it. “I know.” His response was hushed, and as sleep continued creeping in, you wondered if you’d imagined it.

But when you felt a long, drawn-out kiss press to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades, you knew it was real. The last thing you heard before you dozed off was his voice, mellow and gentle as he assured you.

“Ima do better, mama. I promise, for real this time.”

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