I Love Spiderverse 😍

It was a recurring cycle between the two of you. Throughout the days, depending on how Miles was feeling, you two would be locked in like you were together; or he would give you the coldest behavior.

But no matter how he acted, the nights always ended with him paying for your ice cream from the small shop around the corner that stayed open twenty four hours.

That was the thing, no matter how the day went, it always ended with you two together.

Y así es como él quería que fuera.

If looks could kill, the guy talking to you would’ve been six feet deep. Hell, Miles was ready to do it with his bare hands, no need for figurative language.

The only reason this guy had the balls to approach you was because Miles had chosen to ignore you all week.

Usually you two were seen together, or at least close enough in the halls to where no one dared to approach you. But he decided to “distance himself” from you in hopes to calm the flutters in his chest whenever he was near you, just seeing you would cause his heart to drop to his stomach.

He would brush you off in the classroom, keeping his usual playful banter with you to a minimum. He even went as far as to skip the regular late night meet ups you two had.

Clearly his plan didn’t work.

And now seeing this random guy talkin’ to you, he wish he never did it. I mean this guy was so bold, so cockily talking to you, to his girl.

He wasn’t gon’ have that.

You smiled out your fifth that’s crazy to the guy talking to you. He had yet to even tell you his name, assuming you already knew it. Very bold assumption.

You wanted nothing more than to get out of this conversation. Even with John gone in the hospital, guys still couldn’t catch the hint you wanted nothing to do with them.

“Aye ima keep it real witchu’” the guy paused staring deep into your soul, “ I was wondering if you live up to the rumors?” You blinked a few times. What was he on about? “Homie John was tellin’ me- before ole’ boy came outta nowhere and snuck him” You assumed “ole boy” was Miles, referring to when John nearly died because of him. “John was telling me you gave him a run for his money.” The boy winked. Now you were really confused. What in the hell was he talking about? “Oh come on, you know what I’m talm’ bout” the guy insinuated seeing your confused face. He stepped closer, too close for comfort.

You wished Miles, even though he had been a jerk all week, was near you to prevent this douche from getting any closer. Things like this never happened with him around. “I mean you could show me somethin-”

“She good homeboy. ” As if on cue, Miles' stern voice interrupted the guy, wrapping a hand firmly around the small of waist as he stood behind you. His Versace cologne coursed strongly through your nostrils, his signature smell of warm citrusy sandalwood permeating your brain. It had become a smell you could recognize anywhere.

“I believe she can speak for herself bro” the guy said, looking at Miles challengingly. Miles furrowed his eyebrows, staring at the guy like he had said the most ridiculous thing known to man. Because to Miles he had.

Miles nodded his head to the side using it to gesture further down the hallway, far from where you were. “Step.” Miles asserted, voice the most serious you had heard before. The guys scoffed and looked at you, “aye, you know where to find me.”. He winked again and kept walking, following Miles' rather aggressive instruction to leave.

You shook the look of disgust off you face as the guy walked away. Peering at Miles over your shoulder, you finally acknowledging his existence. “Oh so we speaking now?” You questioned sarcastically. You expected him to let go of you, but his hand remained planted firm on your waist.

“What class you got next mami? It’s Spanish right, with Señor Ramos?” He blatantly ignored your question, lightly moving you with the hand he had placed your waist forward, insinuating for you to walk. Scowling, you moved away from his grasp but walked as he nonverbally asked. “Okay first off- how do you know that? You stalkin’ me now?” He rolled his eyes at your rhetorical question. “And secondly, you can’t just come over here after going ghost n’ push up on me like this.” He kissed his teeth, “Chill ma it ain’t that deep.” You scoffed at his nonchalant response. “You know what-”, you cut yourself off, holding a hand up with no real intention. You walked away from him, feeling your irritation from his on and off behavior from the past month finally bubbling over.

Miles stood where you left him, dropping his shoulders with an annoyed sigh.

It finally reached the weeks end, Friday hitting Miles like a train. Unluckily for Miles, you refused to talk to him since your interaction Monday, going as far as to ignore him in the classroom. And not in the way he did to you, not just the usual brush off. It seemed like you were purposely acting as if he died or something; completely pretending he wasn’t there.

He would make fun of you, you would stay silent. He would tug at your hair to annoy you, silence. He would place his hand steadily on the inner of your upper thigh to get some, any kind of reaction from you, silence.

Miles was conflicted. The silent treatment felt a lot different being the one receiving it.

You were affecting him mentally. He had been on dozens of missions as the prowler, working through each of them like a pro. But it seemed like he had never used his equipment in his life on the mission he was on now, his mind being too flooded with thoughts of you to focus.

As he was running along the top of a building, he was suddenly yanked back from the cord attached to his hip. He stumbled back into his uncle's chest, looking back at him through his mask. Switching the mask up as Aaron pulled his own mask up over his face, Miles turned to his uncle confused.

“Aye man. You in or what?” Aaron said irritated. “What you mean unc, I’m right here.” Miles responded, immediately understanding what his uncle was implying. “Yea you might be here physically,” Aaron placed two fingers on Miles temple, roughly tapping them against his head. “But you ain’t here. You only as strong as your weakest link Miles, you know that. Stop playin around or you're out. Understand?” Huffing, Miles nodded.

He had to get it together.

Two o’clock in the morning and the Mission finally finished.

Jumping from building to building, Miles decided to stay out a little longer to clear his head.

He had to talk to you. You had become all he could think of, every day, every night.

It was exhausting to know he was the reason you refused to speak to him. He would do anything to talk to you. Hell, just to see you right now.

Looking down, he caught sight of a familiar figure. His eyes widened slightly, the universe seeming to answer his pleas.

It was a stupid idea. Thinking you could have gotten ice cream alone at 2:30 in the morning was never smart. But as much as you hated to admit, you missed Miles. You missed him so much that all sense of rationale had left. Curse your strong feelings and weak mind.

But you seemed to have forgotten the state of Brooklyn, it being no way shape or form safe. So someone watching you, even though a norm of creepy in New York, was still very unpleasant. You could feel their eyes blaring into your head, staring deeply into your soul without even having to look at your eyes. It was worse when you had no idea where or who they were.

You were terrified to say the least. Whoever was stalking you was good at their job, you had no sense of direction as to their location or what they wanted.

You turned your head around, trying to see if you noticed anyone behind you. As you turned your head foward, you were met with the sight of the prowler staring directly at you.

“OH MY-” you yelled, flailing your arms in fear causing you to drop the ice creams.

He used his claw-covered hand to cover your mouth, raising a finger over his screened face indicating for you to be quiet.

You furrowed your eyebrows but nodded, fear still present in your eyes. He took the claw off your mouth.

“Why you out this late?” The altered voice asked, being the first time you heard the voice behind the mask, even if it wasnt their true voice. You blinked, was this really what he wanted? “Uhm, not to be rude or nothin’” you paused, “but why do you need to know that?”

The man behind the mask smacked his lips looking down at you. “Just answer the question mujer.” The accent rolled of his tongue thick, clearly annoyed. Their response brought a sense of familiarity to you, reminding you of how Miles would get mad at you when you smart mouthed him. You took a moment to closely observe the prowler. Their hair was in two braids down the back of their head, the part visibly clean but frizz surrounded the woven hair from the night's movement. His Jordan’s were clean, surprisingly not creased too deeply even though it was the same pair from your last time you saw him. He stood over you, this time less frightening than the last encounter you had a few months ago.

“You gon’ speak or just keep staring at me?” You jolted lightly at the sound of the altered voice, snapping back to reality. “You know- I don’t see how that’s your business-” “I’m making it my business.” His voice was stern, yet not aggressive. It reminded you all too well of Miles. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tilted your head at the vigilante. It was clear they had no intention of hurting you, otherwise they would’ve already done it.

“Uhhh,” you bite your lip confused. It truly wasn’t the vigilantes business why you were out, but the thought of them becoming actually irritated wasn’t something you wanted to experience. “I was getting ice cream.” Miles looked at the two cones on the ground, seeing his favorite flavor and your favorite melting together, lightly smirking under his mask. “You need two for yourself?” “Well no.” “So who’s the other one for?”. You glared at the prowler, not realizing he could be so damn annoying.

“For my man. But ‘can’t eat em’ anymore cause the ice creams on the ground n’ I ain’t bring any more money. I should make you buy me some new ones.” You said accusingly.

Miles took in what you called him, your man. He was lucky his masks didn’t hold expression, because the wide geeky smile under the screen would’ve easily given away it was him.

He was your man.

He hummed, trying his best to not sound any different than before. You nodded impatiently, just wanting to get home. Staring at the spilled ice cream, you huffed defeated. It was clear you just weren’t meant to see Miles; the dropped ice cream and your sudden lack of energy proof of your case.

The prowler sighed, drawing you out of thoughts, “You know there’s creeps out here lookin’ for chiquitas like you. You need to watch where you're going mami.”

You faltered, hearing his words. It was something Miles used to tell you often to tease you.

Before you could process the words, he vanished into the darkness.

Miles watched as you looked around aimlessly, trying to spot where he went. The nickname rolled off his tongue with ease from how much he called you it, a little too easy. From the way you looked at him, knew he almost messed up big time; forgetting you didn’t know he was the prowler.

Three taps were heard on your window.

Who was tapping at your window at 2:45 in the morning?

No other than Miles Gonzalo Morales.

Getting up, you feigned annoyance at the boy staring at you through your window, noting the two ice creams in his hand.

Opening the window, he wasted no time barging in past you. Rude. Sitting on your bed he offered you the cold sweet treat he bought for you. Snatching it from him, you stared at him expectantly.

“Why are you here Miles.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Even though you wanted to see him less than twenty minutes ago, he didn’t have to know that. So being the petty being you are, you decided to keep up the mad act; unaware of the fact he already knew your true feelings. “Damn I can’t stop by no more?” He asked playfully, man spreading on your bed. “You ain’t stopped by in a hot minute. might as well stop coming all together.” You say stoically, trying your best to remain irritated. He sighed, opening his mouth to say something only to shut it and look away.

He glanced up again as you sat down next to him on the soft mattress.

“Watchu been up to ma?” Miles turned his head to you, leaning back on his elbows with his ice cream in hand. You pursed your lips at him. Who walks half a mile at 2:45 in the morning just to ask such a basic question. “You could’ve texted that”. You quipped. Still gazing at you, he licked his lips, “Yea, I could’ve.”.

A silence fell over the two of you as you began to eat your ice creams.

Miles sighed, taking a break from the partially eaten cone in his hand. “Look mami-” he paused, a soft breath leaving his mouth. “I shouldn’t have gone ghost like that. lo siento.” Shock rose over your face. The man known for whooping peoples asses for looking at them wrong just apologized to you. “Did the Miles Morales just apologize,” you joked, easing the uncomfortable feeling he had been feeling. “Cállate mujer” he smacked his lips, rolling his eyes.

“Lemme try your ice cream.” He pointed at your already half consumed cone. “You literally have one in your hand.” Furrowing your brows, you pulled the ice cream in your hand closer to your body. He bucked at you,“So?” snatching the ice cream out of your hand, he took a bite out of the waffle cone. You gaped at him, irritated by the fact he took a bite instead of just licking it. His eyes widened looking down at the cone,“Ouh- this pretty good ma.”. licking out of the half empty cone. “Can I have my cone back bro” he looked at you, a sudden glint of mischief washing over his eyes. He licked the ice cream; his tongue curling seductively, pulling the ice cream up as he stared at you. Your eyes widened at him, your cheeks heating from his inappropriate gesture. Seeing your reaction, a genuine laugh left his throat. “you a freak ma?” He asked cackling. You looked at him incredulously “Oh I’m the freak?” You said sarcastically, “and quiet down before my parents hear you” you said, snatching the cone back from him. He chuckled, licking the tiny amount of ice cream stuck on the side of his lip.

Checking his phone, Miles' eyes widened seeing it read 3:30 am. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed, now passing over from late in the night to early morning. Standing up, he walked towards the window. “Damn I gotta dip, I’ll catch you later.” He turned back to you, “N’ no more ghosting. Promise.” You walked toward the window, preparing to close it once he left. “Promise?”

“Promesa.” He said, exiting out the window. You turned away from the open breeze for a second, taking a moment to look back at your room to see if he left anything,

“Y/n.”

You turned your head quickly, looking him in the eye. He lightly grabbed your chin through the open frame, bringing your face ever so gently to his. His lips connect to yours, his gentle demeanor enough to make the anxieties of the night fade into mist. Closing your eyes, his hand met your neck softly pulling you closer. A soft gasp fell from your lips, him taking the initiative to deepen the kiss. His tongue quickly won dominance, exploring your mouth as it pleased.

Maybe you were meant to see him tonight.

He smirked into the kiss, a string of saliva keeping you together as he pulled away gazing at you.

“esperado tanto para hacer eso”

BONUS:

Miles sat on his uncle's couch cleaning his gear from the mission he came back from; an innocent lovestruck energy that had been there from the previous days still seeping from his presence. “So who’s the girl?” Aaron asked, a smirk on his face.

Miles looked at him feigning confusion “Ion know whatchu’ talkin’ bout unc.” Aaron pursed his face, smacking Miles on the back of his neck, “Boy you look like you got slapped by a rainbow-Jolly ass-Ian dumb. What's up wit it.” Miles winced from the sting, furrowing his eyebrows angrily as he smacked his lips offended, “Damn relax,” the small smile that met Miles his lips giving away he was far from annoyed. “Yea, I got a girl.”.

Aaron shook his head with a gentle smile, “I knew we was related, thought you had no game there for a hot min.” Miles swatted at his uncle mumbling about how he had more game than him. Arron laughed,“You know ima’ have to meet her right? If I don’t like her, she’s out.” Miles rolled his eyes, “You gon like her, trust.”. Miles was more than confident Aaron would love you, the real issue being that Aaron might like you more than he liked his own nephew.

A comfortable silence fell over the two as they kept cleaning. Aaron picked up the last of the materials and put them in their rightful place, looking at his nephew, “So, you serious ‘bout her?”

Miles peered up at his uncle, a sincere look washing over his eyes.

“me voy a casar con ella.”

©axeoverblade

TAGLIST:

“bebé, calm… calm down.” he said in between kisses.

you were pushing him towards the bed, his mask half way pulled up. when you sat him down on it, you put one leg on either side of him, straddling his lap.

“i can’t, you look so good.” you stopped kissing him just to say that then went back in for more, your tongue coming into his mouth to explore the sweet and wonderful cavern.

“you too, hermosa.” miles said after having pulled away for air, in the process taking his mask off entirely.

his lips came in contact with your neck, leaving kisses all over it and occasionally stopping to suck on some random places. his hands made their way to your ass, squeezing it and guiding you to move on top of him.

you complied and moved your hips against his, gasping at the contact while he did the same thing against your neck, biting down on it softly before going back to your lips.

he kissed you harder this time, his hands on your ass pulling you even closer to him and even then you both wanted to be closer to each other. become one with each other.

“i love you so much, bonito.” you said breathless as you pushed him until he was laying down.

“and i love you too, bebé.”

your lips connected in another kiss.

taglist: @anikaluv

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“princesa, come back to bed.” he groaned.

“i can’t, miles. i don’t know why i do this to myself.” you complained. “always waiting last minute to finish shit.”

you had a school project due tomorrow and you had previously decided that you only wanted to spend time with your boyfriend all weekend so that’s what you did, but then your friend had texted you saying how much your final grade depended on that project so now here you were trying to get started on it.

“mami, i’ll let you use mine if you want.” he offered, and sat up. “i’m doing good in that class, way too good so that bald headed teacher can’t fail me for not doing his project.”

“you did it already?” you asked, turning around and looking at him surprised.

“yeah, on friday during free time.” he shrugged like it was nothing.

you slid your hand down your face. “why am i not as smart and organized as my boyfriend.”

“i’ll be smart enough for both of us.” he walked to you and picked you up, hands on your thighs as you wrapped your legs around him.

“thank you.” you kissed him and he gladly returned the kiss.

miles was squeezing you thighs, kneading the soft flesh like it was nothing more than dough and you hummed against his lips, loving the feeling. he ran his hand up and down then squeezed, repeating this process over and over again.

“i just love them.” he pulled away before connecting his lips to your neck, placing you on his bed, your head landing on his pillow and his hands never leaving your thighs.

“miles morales!”

he moved so fast, covering you with his blanket and looking at his mom as she stood at his bedroom door, hand on her hips.

“quítate de arriba de ella, ahora mismo!” tía morales yelled at her son, then calmed down when he did as she ordered, looking at your flustered expression with a smile. “i’m about to leave for my shift, querida. but don’t hesitate to call me if he tries something else. buenas noches!” she closed the door.

miles rolled his eyes and looked at you with a smirk.

“nope.” you shook your head. “you heard what she said.” you put on a serious face, trying hard not to laugh. “try something and i’ll call her.”

“whatever,” he took the off of you and opened your legs. “i’m going to sleep then, right in here.” he laid his head on your thigh and then put the other thigh on top his head.

“miles, this position is not comfortable.”

“for me it is,” he dismissed. “sleep well, mi angelito.”

“bonitoo, get off…” you groaned.

yeah, your thighs were going to be sore when you wake up tomorrow because there is no way to move him away from there.

1610!miles morales

“bonito!”

“bebé!” miles exclaimed when he caught you after you practically jumped on top of him.

“i missed you.” you told him, pulling up his spiderman mask just above his nose and leaving a peck on his lips.

“i was only gone for an hour.” he chuckled.

“i know.” you complained. “that’s too long.”

“i will take a shower and then make it up to you, is that okay?” he offered.

“only if you let me shower with you.” you gave him a cheeky grin.

you both laid down on his bed after taking a shower together that was full of water fights and gossip about criminal’s and people from your school, also a few kisses were shared here and there. miles even washed your legs for you, but you knew damn well he just wanted to touch your thighs.

now he was placing kisses on both of them as his head was on your lower abdomen.

“i wish i could just stay here forever.” he sighed, delivering another kiss to your right thigh.

“well you can’t.” you laughed. “i will get tired of keeping them up for you, bonito.”

“i can always have my webs hold them up for you.”

“what? no!” you laughed harder at that. “don’t say stuff like that, bonito.”

“i would do it though, bebé.” he smiled, placing a kiss to your left thigh. happy to make you laugh like that. “just say the word and i’ll do it.”

“it’s fine, bonito.” you shook your head with a smile. “i’ll keep them up for you.”

“thank you.” he gave a full teeth smile and pulled your thighs closer to his face until he was squeezed in between them.

you took a picture of him because he looked so adorable, adding it to your mi bonito <3 album.

now if you meant a character aside from this two then it is…

hobie brown

ever since hobie met you he had a tendency of just staring at your thighs and when you two became official he wouldn’t just stare at it, he would smack it as well.

you didn’t mind at all but at times like this, like right now that you two were in public and he had just gone for it and smacked your thigh from behind you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.

your head was buried in his arm after that, the fabric of his jacket rubbing your face as you two walked alongside each other. hobie had the audacity to do it again and chuckle when he had the reaction he wanted from you.

“sweetheart, it’s alright. they don’t give a fuck.” he nonchalantly said, pointing at everyone around you and showing how nobody was paying attention to you two.

“it doesn’t matter, stop.” you said, taking your face away from his arm. you weren’t serious even though you were embarrassed, you absolutely loved how much he liked your thighs. it made you feel a lot confident about them.

“should’ve thought about that before wearing that skirt.” he shrugged, then his arm moved away from your grip, coming down to your thigh and squeezing it.

“hobie!” you half-screamed, looking around to see if anybody was watching you.

“what is it, sweetheart?” he sounded so innocent.

this fucker.

“don’t do this in public.”

“okay. i’ll do much more in private, then.” he simply said.

your thigh was slapped then squeezed once again.

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“Oh shit—“

“Jeez, what the hell man!”

You lunch gone and your good mood with it, your head lifted a great distance from the murder scene at your feet to meet the apologetic face of who had committed this unjust crime against your rumbling stomach.

“I am so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going…” The boy in front of you murmured sheepishly, palm dragging at the back of his neck.

Lips pursed, your forefinger and thumb pinched at the bridge of your nose as you willed yourself to refrain from cursing him out. New york already had enough of that, you decided as he continued apologizing.

“It’s my fault. I bumped into you, it’s fine.” you grumbled curtly, clearly irked. Shifting the blame onto yourself was your best attempt at keeping your anger at bay. The last thing you wanted to do was cut up in this nice man’s shop, especially not on a Sunday.

With a heavy sigh and a scratch to your brow, you crouched down and swiftly scooped the discarded meal off the floor with a napkin. Great, money down the drain.

“Let me buy you another one.” He said to the top of your green adidas beanie, palms pushed together to accompany his plea.

“No need.”

“I really wanna buy you another one.”

You shot up and tossed the remnants into the trash, your frustration evident in how much forced you used. “Dude, it’s—“

“I’m buying you another one.” he insisted, chin raising when he hollered at the clerk. “Yo, Lenny, lemme get another beef patty, man.”

He shuffled past you before you could decline again, the man behind the counter already sliding a fresh one past the register after having witnessed the run in.

You stared at the back of this stranger, brows furrowed incredulously. He was nice, which was unusual for someone in this city, so your innate response was to be annoyed at his persistence. People were always bumping into you and ruining your day, but no one had ever offered to fix it before.

“That’s the last one I got for the day, Miles.” Lenny, the owner of the shop informed apologetically, his Jamaican accent heavy on his tongue. He knew the boy usually came into his store around this hour for one thing, and it was always for one of his beef patties.

“It’s cool, don’t sweat it.” Waving him off, Miles slapped the cash down onto the counter and snatched the pastry up.

“Here,” He turned to you just as you were brushing your hands off onto your dark-wash jeans, breath held with what he hoped would be a peace-offering, extended out to you. “I’m sorry, again.”

You looked up at him, then back down at the patty in his hand before you gently accepted it, the pads of your fingers lingering in his palm when you did so.

“Thank you,..” trailing off, you blinked up at him, a silent request for his name. He was tall, kind of lanky, and had the prettiest brown eyes you’d probably ever seen. They stared back at you, appearing puzzled before he put the pieces together.

“Oh!— Miles.” he answered with a warm smile, hands tucking into the pockets of his jacket. It was green, your favorite color.

“Thank you… Miles.” you returned his smile with a smaller one, something about it contagious.

Caught up in the way you said his name for a moment, it wasn’t until you were already halfway out the door when he realized you hadn’t told him yours.

“Wait! I didn’t get your—“ he called out to the air, the bell on the shop’s door a taunt of his failed attempt. “Name.” he murmured, shoulders falling with a sigh.

He felt eyes on him and turned to the side, lips smacking against his teeth in annoyance at who’s stare he’d caught.

“Don’t be mad at me, man. You gotta step ya game up.” Lenny threw his hands up in surrender and stifled a laugh, shaking his head at the boy.

Even though he had nothing to be smiling about when he exited the small store—seeing as he was out of five dollars and still hungry—Miles found himself walking home that day with a smile etched onto his face, a little pep in his step and something to keep his mind busy.

Nothing happened, that was obvious, but for some reason he felt like this wouldn’t be the last time he saw you.

—

Exactly one thing was on your mind the next time you entered Lenny’s shop, and he already knew what it was before you’d opened your mouth to ask after approaching the register.

Well, maybe two things, but the second one wasn’t necessary to get into.

“Comin’ righ’tup, sweetheart.” He nodded at you.

“Thanks.” You smiled sweetly, idly tapping your hands against the counter during your short wait.

The white parchment paper cradling your all time favorite snack slid over to you a minute later. You paid quickly, your stomach rumbling just from smelling the savory treat.

Just as you went to turn around, you spotted that same boy who’d ran into you a week ago and nearly ruined your day. Miles, you remembered his name was, as you stuck an apprehensive hand out in front of you, patty pulled close to your chest and brows raised in warning.

“Chill,” He laughed, his hands shooting up in defense. “I’m out your way this time, promise.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, his playful demeanor rubbed off on you. “You better be.”

“Please don’t tell me you got the last one.” He pleaded with hopeful eyes, but wishful thinking never did much for him.

“She sure did.” Lenny called from behind the counter, eyeing Miles closely to see if he’d take the bone he threw. He then ticked his head to the side with a slightly widened stare, as if urging the disappointed boy to make a move.

“Woops.” Using your fingers, you ripped a piece off the patty and popped it into your mouth, shrugging as you brushed past Miles, who had just caught on to what the shop owner did for him.

With your back to him as you pushed the door open to outside, you missed the two fingered salute Miles shot towards the man as a thank you.

He followed after you, swiftly shouldering himself through the closing door and sliding outside, into step with you.

“Tell you what, I’ll give you my number for half of it.” He offered with a boyish grin, long legs able to keep up with ease.

You nearly choked, steps halting when you spun around to face him. What made him think you wanted his number? And maybe you did, because you definitely thought he was cute, but that was besides the point since he didn’t know that.

“Are you flirting with me?” you asked, and he perked up a bit.

“Depends. Is it working?”

You rolled your eyes. “How about my name first?”

He shrugged, leaning back against the side of the building a bit. “I kinda assumed that was a package deal, seeing as I’ll need something to save your contact under.”

Okay, you’ll admit it, that was smooth.

You put your hand on your hip, patty in the other with your head tilted in thought. “Somehow, I feel like this deal benefits you more than me.”

“That‘s possible.” Miles chuckled, and you can’t believe that’s all it took to convince you. How pretty he looked when he laughed. How good your name sounded rolling off his tongue when he’d repeated it back to stake it within his memory.

You quietly hummed to yourself, contemplating. You’d never accepted a guy’s advances this easily, and figured you’d test him in a way he’d most likely fail.

“Quick, what’s my favorite color?”

There was a pause.

“Green.”

Your jaw dropped. “What— How in the hell?” You gaped at him. “How did you know that?”

“You give away more than you know with your eyes.” He grinned. “Saw you eyeing my jacket last week, and you’re doing it again today. And your beanie, too.” With a raise of his eyes from yours, he pointed out the forest green hat pulled snug over your head and your hand mindlessly went to touch it. “But honestly, I was only like, seventy percent sure, so maybe you can call it a lucky guess.”

You quirked a brow. “Oh, so you think I’m checking you out now?”

“No, but I wouldn’t mind.”

Well, you’d managed to lose at your own game, fair and square. Holding his gaze for a minute, you had to restrain a smile from splitting through your calm and collected facade and shooed away the urge with a clearing of your throat.

“Phone.” You held your hand out, beckoning him for it.

Fetching it from his pants pocket, he did the same to you with his other hand, palm upwards. “Patty.”

Huffing in frustration, you awarded him the half he earned and snatched the device, ignoring the triumphant look on his face as you punched your digits in.

—

It was pitiful. It barely took anything for you to take interest in a guy in general— but even if your standards were ridiculously high, there was no doubt that Miles would have weasled his way into your thoughts regardless.

You’d checked your phone at least six times in the past hour in hopes of seeing a text, coming up with unconvincing excuses like checking the time, or the weather— all while blatantly pretending to be oblivious towards the possibility that a message from an unknown number might just be there, too.

And then it came.

[Unknown]: Best patty I’ve had in a while. Food always tastes better when it’s not yours :)

He had you on your stomach, features pulled into a hopeful smile with your legs fluttering in the air off one message. You’d remind yourself to get a grip in due time.

Who’s this?

You knew damn well who it was. But you wouldn’t be who you were if you didn’t play hard to get.

[Unknown]: Damn, you forgot about me that quickly?

You clicked the info button in the top right corner of your phone and saved him as a contact before you replied.

Maybe. Remind me of your name again? Micah, right?

[Miles]: Okay, now that’s just hurtful. I do not look like a Micah!

You laughed to yourself at that, flopping onto your back as you typed a response. In the back of your mind you wondered if things would progress any further than this conversation.

But if only you could’ve time travelled and spoken to your future self, because she would’ve told you that forgetting about a boy like Miles Morales, or trying to, would be impossible.

though it did remind him of his suit, so he started to notice you a bit more.

the next day he saw you wore purple brooch that accessorized your uniform.

the day after that, he saw you wear a purple clip on the side of your head.

“goddamn, this girl obsessed with purple or what?” miles said it in his thoughts as he chuckled.

you must really like purple.

everytime he took a look at you, his eyes would always search something that was purple.

he’d see a purple bracelet.

purple air jordan’s.

a purple headband.

this one time, he had to squint since you were wearing purple earrings but your hair was in the way.

the next day, miles saw you wearing a necklace with the shade of purple that was really similar to his suit.

“i like your necklace,” miles said out of nowhere, not sparing you a glance.

“thank you! a friend got it for me as a gift. ” was all you said as you went back doing the assignment.

meanwhile miles was secretly blushing and smiling that he got to courage to even say that to you.

the day after that, miles was confused.

when he sat next to you, you didn’t even wear anything purple. no earrings, no bracelets, no nothing.

and when class began to end, you packed up and stuff and started to leave the classroom. without even knowing, your purple ring fell out of your bag as you left.

thankfully, miles took notice of it.

when he picked up the ring, he saw a purple gem on it. miles let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding as he went to catch up to you.

“hold up!” he grabbed your shoulder softly, making you confused and turn around.

“this fell outta your bag.” miles showed you his hand, your ring on top of it.

“oh my god, thank you! i’ve been looking for it all morning and i was so mad when i wasn’t wearing purple at all today.” you tried to take your ring but before you could get your hands away from his, miles held it.

“miles.” was all he said.

“y/n.” you smiled up at him as he gave you a smile back.

Word had gone around that he’d gone insane, smashed his head against a desk in an old , deserted classroom until he’d passed out. Mangled his own skull, intended to stab someone, but couldn’t get up from the damage to his own self.

A tip to the cops surveying the scene, and the rumour was spread a little wider.

He had been wary with you, from the moment you both sat staring at the city life below you, in his bed.

In his room, his house with his Ma just outside. The domesticity of the moment making the ache in his lungs suffocate his heart. Squeezing and pumping out as much blood as it could, heart rate trying to keep up with the lack of air.

He’d thought back to it too often in the mere days since occurrence for him to simply brush it off, but he sure tried.

—

He tapped the rubber of his pencil along his desk, staring at the page below him. The words being said had been drowned out by his racing mind, something he fully knows would get him in trouble eventually for “lack of effort”. But it was maths, there wasn’t a single thing being told that he didn’t already know.

What had his current attention, was the faint sketch of you on his gridded paper. He hadn’t meant to draw it, he’d just—, spaces out and it was there when he snapped back.

Now he was at a standstill with himself, use the currently tapping eraser to get rid of the drawing, or live with the faint lines hidden between pages. It was obvious, rub it out. But the thing, the most difficult aspect—,

—Was how utterly gorgeous the drawing was.

How your hair framed the page, the shape of your eyes being shaded in led. The soft look you’d given him that night being practically pulled from his mind and placed on the cheap paper. He’d recreated it perfectly, he could feel the apprehension, the uncertainty.

But despite how bitter those words sounded, uncertainty was still consideration.

You were considering him. Not as an enemy, or a nuisance — as a stranger.

You can get to know a stranger.

You can get to know him.

Miles closed his eyes and groaned under his breath, rolling eyes at the hope rising in the back of his neck.

He flicked to the next page, promising to never open to it again.

If it ended up cut out of his book, folded neatly and stuffed in the hidden latch of his desk drawer, no one but him would know.

—

You hadn’t forgive him, of course you hadn’t — you’re not that naïve.

He hurt you, cause you an entire season of torment, sleepless night and stress filled days.

You tried to stay quiet, like you always had. Passing by crowds unnoticed and surfing under the noise with a cotton stuffed ear.

And he’d started a ruining of that.

Trying not to draw attention to yourself, despite him so clearly trying to put you in spotlight.

This whole ordeal was a domino effect from that damn kaleidoscope, and he was just another finger flicking the next tile.

Until he wasn’t.

And he’d near killed a man for you. Taken care of you, feared for your life.

He’d found you, from nothing but a gut feeling.

The way he would stare now, was less vindictive. His gaze no longer that of anger but of a man conflicted. Like he couldn’t tell what to think of you.

You lay over your ruffled sheets, quilt and bedding under you to not overheat yourself. You window was wide open, airing out your humid room. The soft sway of leaves sprouting from the vines crawling over your building was pleasant. Digging their roots in the crevices of your window sill like Miles had been digging into the crevices of your mind.

You put a hand over your head, stretching your back up and listening the the crack that came from it.

Dropping back down and huffing, you continued to watch your ceiling in mild disinterest, trying desperately to reach the essence of sleep, and let the way Miles’ lips curled into a smirk fall from your mind.

He hadn’t realised it, but his small rebuttal to your teasing that night in his room had made a permanent statement in your head, no longer able to forget about it.

“No, just you —,” Your mind hadn’t cared to supply the rest.

Every single thing about that scarring night had burned its way into your temporal lobe. Like giving it a searing kiss with memory stained lipstick.

A small clicking had caught your attention, like fingernails tapping glass. The clinks were rhythmic, had the coordination of a spiders legs.

Your focus on the plain ceiling was now broken, a curiosity replacing it.

You approached the open window without caution, Moonlight spilling through the glossy panes. Placing your hands on the sill, you leaned forward, and felt the small rush of wind over your shoulders, the breeze cooling your heated face. An urge to close your eyes and take it in almost over-reigned that new curiosity, but your self preservation thought better of it. Checking left and right either side as if someone was going to be waiting right there for you. Because that was a completely rational and not at all ludicrous thought. You scoffed to yourself, glancing at the skyline with glistening eyes before turning and heading back inside, to finally — maybe, fall asleep.

—

Miles released a quiet breath, braids swaying from his suspended position hanging from a rooftop. Your rooftop, of your building—.. Where he was watching you. It was coincidence, really. That somehow, running from guys he stole a cure his Momma needed for a patient from. And when grappling from building to building, using clips and hooks and zip lines to get away from them, he’d stumbled into your street.

He’d lie to himself and say it was just the street his Ma’s favourite Paella was made, but the one time he’d seen you, exhausted from school—, drag yourself into an apartment across the street from that very place..

His opinion hadn’t changed, so to speak. But there was an added motive, that’s it.

And he’s hiding, it’s not his fault if your apartment is high up. Or his need to see you is growing at alarming rates, or his heart was beating so loud in his ears that he hadn’t heard you approach the window.

So when your fingers had softly scraped along the sill of your window, he’d pulled himself above you — and prayed you wouldn’t look up.

You hadn’t, thankfully.

He’d watched the way your skin had shone under the city lights, your features illuminated and accentuated by the chaos the streets. You were so unbothered—, so calm, even amidst everything he (and everyone else) had put you through.

Like a stubborn stone keeping the whole wall from collapsing.

His admiration for you had grown, not only from the past months — which he realises is slightly sadistic — but from your tenderness that had only lasted mere minutes. Even the glimpse of a softer you, not the one covered in a satiated rage, hands squeezing lemons until the bitterness dripped not from the fruit broken skin, but from your own. The sting of acid only making your bloodied finger feel more justified.

Not that.

What he saw was a woman free of woes, no need to split her skin when her heart was already so vulnerable.

And he craved for a mere glimpse of that again.

Like old, your anger had satisfied him. Gave him those doses of you he’d fiend for, and had excited him to no end. Now, he’s found something stronger.

He can’t let you go.

He watches you scoff at yourself, his mask retracting from his face. You look towards the city’s edge one last time before turning and making your way back inside.

He sighs, adjusting his position on the buildings ledge, and grabs the waterspout running the side of the building, crawling back to the shadows.

His claws clink, like nails tapping glass.

—

There wasn’t a day of peace in the last fortnight.

You were still suffering the effects of your previous injuries. People knowing that something had gone down between you and James, seeing as he hadn’t showed up in two weeks. And the near-healed bruises on your face were a well indicator of your involvement.

So when you stumbled upon Keith, someone you’d basically owed your still-intact-body too, scrambling out of an alley. Bloodied and bruised, nose broken and face almost as busted as your was that day. Safe to say you weren’t exactly confused to what was happening.

He looked up, eyes meeting yours almost eerily fast, the blood from his nose coating his teeth a deep crimson. A sick chill ran down your spine and you stumbled back. A wet gasp for breath was heard, diverting your attention towards its gruesome origin.

Turning your body towards the darkened alley, vision blurring at the edges. Your breath escaped you.

Keith had started speaking, and over the ringing in your ears he’d begged for your forgiveness, scraping his knees while he clawed to get away from his friends continuous spluttered coughing.

“What—..”

Mathew was lying on the floor, avidly trying to protect himself using only his bare hands. While a figure you could only see the back of punched in a strict, repeated pattern — like they’d done this before.

“Miles?”

The man whipped his head towards you, blood dripping down a cut on his cheekbone, and a snarl over his face.

Said contortion quickly smoothened out, a rather *confronted look replacing it.

Keith was long gone by now, having dragged his bloodied body away from whatever mess you were now a part of.

“Chiquita, don’t freak out.”

The way your lungs seemed to refuse oxygen kind of refuted that command.

You were frozen still, eyes stuck on the barely conscious body beneath the subject of your recent intrigue.

Mathew was barely recognisable, eyes puffed up in bruises and bloodied flesh. Miles had taken near no damage compared to the other men.

“[Name], c’mon.” He was getting up now, shuffling off his opponent with a tone of apprehension.

Only when his movement shifted your frozen eyes, did you see the key details you’d missed.

Braids, Nikes, Jacket, Collar, Claws.

A spray painted logo you’d only ever seen one man branding.

The Prowler.

"No te precipites, Ma."

“Don’t act rash, Ma.”

Right as the endearment left his mouth, you turned on your heel and ran.

"[Name], Por dios — quedate aquí."

“[Name]! Oh my god — stay there.”

He waved nonchalantly to the definitely not-going-anywhere boy on the floor. Shifting his foot back and jumping at a wall, claws digging in and gripping the ledge to the roof, swinging himself over it and keeping the momentum in a run.

Darting through corner stalls and confused pedestrians, you tripped over yourself to get away.

A strong, persistent mantra of ‘Holy fuck.’ was circling through the forefront of your mind, and yet everything else was hyper aware.

Not a fault in your step as your grace seemed to come out in times of dire panic, like a dancer following their cues, every movement made around you was an instructors yell.

You turned into the alley leading to your apartment, a shortcut, when you heard someone drop down behind you. You spun around, fast enough to dizzy yourself, and gave one look to the neon mask of the vigilante before going to run again. A small noise of panic escaped your shaking form.

“No corras, por favor!”

“Don’t run, please!”

Your heart beat fast, reaching the door to your apartment complex, swiping your key card and launching yourself inside, the scuffle of shoes being heard just outside the slammed shut door.

“Please, [Name], let me in. We can talk this out, Ma.”

Miles begged, knocking on the complexs’ back door.

"They were gonna jump you, [Name].”

“I don’t believe you.”

Your voice came out shaking, confused and *scared. You’d known he’d been capable of violence. It was adamant in the way he wouldn’t flinch at a hit, or the scars that coated his exposed skin.

But this? A man who’s killed people? Who was going to do it again had you not been a witness.

“I—“ You whined, voice giving out and tears finally breaking the surface of your waterline. “I’ve seen you—,” The back of your head hit the metal door and you sobbed silently. “,—On the news.”

Outside the thin steel, Miles sighed, guilt weighing his chest down heavy. He got sloppy, and paid the price. His anger, rage toward these men. And what they’d planned to do to you — he’d say it was justified. You’d say it was monstrous.

“You kill people, Miles.”

His heart broke at the tone of your voice, the quiet sniffles and shortened sobs. The way your voice cracked and broke under the pressure of your open heart.

“Ma, I—“

“I don’t wan’ hear it.”

His hands rest on the cooled metal, forehead pressing against it as he sighed.

“Please let me in.”

“I can’t.”

“[Name]. Chiquita, por favor.”

He’d begged, ready to get on his knees and stand out in the 40° (104°) heat, and wait until you opened the door. Even if it took days.

Although,

“I’ll break in.”

“Wha—,” you cut yourself off in a sobbing laugh, rubbing at your tear tracked face. “Miles, That’s not a very good bargaining chip.”

He smiled, closing his eyes and loving the sweetened tone you held. You weren’t scared of him, you were scared of the Prowler.

“‘Made you laugh.”

His accent thickened over the words, dragging them out in a rasping hush. Something only for you to hear.

Your resolve was breaking, lungs slowing to a calmed lull as the adrenaline left your body. You didn’t break though— couldn’t.

“I can’t—,” You looked to the ceiling of your apartment’s ground floor, standing in an empty back room. “,—You’re not good, Miles.”

“You helped them, before.” Your brows furrowed, not of anger, but of betrayed desperation.

“You.. You just watched—“

“I know, baby, I know.”

He opened his eyes again, staring at the door like it had attacked you.

“Go upstairs, yeah?”

“Why—“

“Just go on, Ma.”

You huffed out a slow breath, fight draining from your being. You wanted to yell, to scream at him how wrong of a man he was. How he couldn’t risk everything he had for you, not now. Not as the estranged people you were.

You wanted to show the anger you never could, reach that brink of anguish until you’d finally given him what he’d wanted since your moment of meeting. But he no longer wanted that.

He’d always wanted you to break, now he just wants you.

“Okay.” You were breathless and tired, coerced.

He lifted his head quickly, hands splayed against cooled metal curling into fists, an excitement running through him like that of a promise.

—

A minute later you were opening the door to your apartment, and locking it behind you. Anxiously making your way to your bedroom, worried to see what was inside, When you stepped inside, you weren't exactly surprised when your eyes landed on Miles' face, what had surprised you though — was that he was hanging off your window sill with a sheepish smile on his face.

"Now will you let me in?" His voice muffled through the glass and you breathed out a quick gasp, "You— Miles, get down!"

"Down?" He smirked, letting one of his hands drop from the wooden sill. "Oh my god!"

You rushed towards your window, discarding your phone on your bed carelessly. You slid your window up, as Miles laughed, swaying from his one hand. "Jesus Miles— are you trying to kill yourself?!"

He crawled through and you grabbed his free hand, dragging him inside. "Get—.. get." Giving up on your scolding half way through, you quickly ushered him towards your bed and turned to close your window.

"When you said 'Go up.' I didn't think yo—"

"I'm sorry.'

Your hands were left floating above your windowsill, shaking in still air. Miles had come up behind you, hands resting over your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt. His face lowered towards your ear voice dipping with it.

"I know you're mad— hate me, all that. 'S okay. I know—,"

He slowly moved his arms further around your waist, watching your breath hitch and the feel of your pulse under the blow of his breath.

",—And I'm sorry."

"I don't hate you."

"You don't hate anyone."

You relaxed into his hold, tears brimming forth again.

"You keep—" "Scaring you." "Yeah." He dragged his left hand down, trailing his fingers over the skin of your arms and watching as the bumps rose along your flesh. You were entrancing.

"Are you scared now, Mami?" He grabbed your wrist in a gentle hold, swiping his bloodied thumb over your smooth skin. Your hand twitched, and his thumb stopped.

"No." You flipped your hand into his, linking your fingers together, careful to not agitate his bruises.

"Would you hurt me?" He reciprocated, closing his fist over your own, the flick of pain felt like nothing— not when the aching in his chest was finally being calmed.

"Never again."

—

DUDE MY PHONE IS FUCKING BROKEN LOLLL

no ending image today im on my laptop (fucking cries)

translator (bbg) @sataraxia

“Wh— Oh! [Name], babe, come look a’ this.”

You partner turned to you, currently hanging from a suspended pole connecting one building to another.

Webs wrapped around his ankles to keep him hanging upside-down. Left hand holding a green can of spray paint, and right holding a paint ridden cloth.

His shirt was riding up (down?) due to gravity, the small peak of skin covered in different paint streaks that matched the tones the wall was now bearing.

“what’re you doing up there?”

He shook the van again, spraying a little detail onto the mural, then wiping a line through the fresh paint to reveal the colour underneath.

“‘M paintin’, love.”

He turned to you, synthetic eyes wide and emoted.

“C’mere, come try.”

He shook the cloth in a ‘come hither’ motion, paint flecks landing on his shirt. You approached him happily, getting close to his mask-clad face.

“Don’ get too close t’ the fumes now, babe.” You rolled your eyes at his playful tone, turning back towards the art to get your first real look at it.

A low whistle came from behind you, “Nice view.”

“Shut it, bug.”

“Arachnid.”

“Whatever.”

You felt Hobie grab his web, releasing his ankles and dropping down by one arm. His feet hurting the ground with a small scuff.

Taking the first good look at his creation, you noticed how you were the centre of it. A dazzling smile with your features painted in a light you’d never known. He’d made you feel so beautiful.

The colours behind you complimented the shades of your hair and strokes of abstract making your features evermore admirable.

“Jesus, Hobie — this is gorgeous.”

“All you, babe.”

He crowded up behind you, letting his slender hands carter’s the skin along your waist and stomach. His muffled voice dropped low to your ear. “Like this, doll.” His right hand travelled up your arm, sliding over yours and disconnecting to wipe at the fresh paint.

His left hand stayed put against your abdomen, squeezing unconsciously. He handed you the cloth, watching your fingers wrap around the fabric and bringing his hand back to your upper arm, rubbing along your skin in a soothing matter.

“Now drag it along there, yeah? Right where it’s still wet.”

You snorted at the innuendo. Hobie scoffing at your childish thoughts and softly pinching your skin.

“Oh, grow up.”

You refocused, dragging your hand along the shade of purple and blue. Streaking them together and revealing the pink underneath.

“Good, you’re a natural at this point.”

You laughed lightly, turning your head towards his.

“It was one stroke, Hobes.”

He winked, a devilish smirk rising his smile lines. “All it takes wit’ you, ain’t it?”

“Oh my god, you’re crude.”

“Nah baby, ‘m honest ‘s all.”

You brought your hand back towards you looking up at the painting again. "Finishing touches."

You gave him a quick, curious "hmm?", before you felt the cloth leave your hands too fast for you to realise. The "thwip" of his webs alerting you of his methods — right as the sound registered in your head, he had shot another back onto the aforementioned pipe, and reached to swipe at the paint around your hair, melting it into you and making you stand out stark against the cohesive colours. "Looks good, dun' it babe?"

"Uhuh."

He spared you a glance, smiling under his mask at the distracted sound of your voice, when he caught you watching him, and not his painting — he could excuse it.

A thought had breached your head, one that had been popping up ever since you had gone to dimension 1806 with him.

—

"Hobie, I'm not a spider person! I can't leave!"

"But I made you a watch?" "

Yes— thank you, I love it. But also that's not the point."

"But the watch.."

"Fuck, fine. Whatever. Don't use that tone on me again."

"Say it's for science."

"Fuck science."

—

That day you had found something.. intriguing. A comic. With a rather interesting cover design. Spiderman — not yours — plastered on the front, upside down, with his mask folded up and kissing Mary Jane. It was probably the most romantic thing you'd ever seen. And now you had the chance.

"Baby."

Hobie stopped wiping the excess paint, giving you his full attention. "Yeah doll, what's 'e matter?"

"Can you— do the thing.. you were doing before?"

He gave you a quizzical look, eyes in his mask squinting. "Painting? I'm almost done, sweethear'. Now I just got'a wipe way the—,"

"No.. no, the uhh.. Thing."

"Babe, ya' gon' have ta' be a bit more specific."

"The— upside down thing."

He snorted. Still hanging from his left hand. "Wh— yeah? I can do it, but—,"

"Don't question my decisions, Hobes."

"God damn, sweethear', speak t' me like 'at more often."

You laughed just as he did, glee falling from your lips as you shifted closer to him. He twisted his body to raise his legs above himself, wrapping the webs around his ankles once more.

"Now what—"

You brought your hands up to his spandex covered cheeks, tracing the lines of his cheekbones under the soft skin of your fingers. Tracing your hands higher, you toyed with the lip of his mask. Exposing the skin of his neck and watching his Adams apple bob out of nerve. "Can I?"

"Whatever you want, Luv."

You rolled the mask just past his nose, hooking it over his bridge, surprising him. He opened his mouth to question why you hadn't taken the whole thing off, before your lips stopped him.

He melted into you, your hands stroking over his cheeks and chin.

It was awkward trying to find your position at first, but you both quickly adapted, his hands finding the belt loops of your jeans and tugging you closer to him. You smiled into the kiss and he followed, laughing about how this was the motive to your request.

Your lips disconnected and he grinned like a fool.

"Tha's why?"

"Oh, shut. It was romantic."

He chuckled again, pulling you in for another kiss.

"Never said otherwise, pretty thing."

—

phone still broken , just like my heart hastag KIILL ME BOW

“look miles..” milo said calmly, as he looked at miles with a stern expression on his face.

“i know this looks bad, but--” before milo could even finish his sentence, miles had pushed him.

“what the fuck, milo?! what have you been doing with my girl?” miles began to feel the anger burn up in his skin as he clenched his hands into fists. he was feeling too many emotions at once, shock, anger, and betrayal, due to what he saw of his own brother and girlfriend.

milo stumbled backwards, as he was punched square in the jaw by miles. he was in shock, as he saw his twin brother, standing in the doorway, glaring at the two of you. milo didn't have an excuse or an explanation, and he was still trying to figure out how to get out of the situation that he was in. he was in trouble, that much was clear, and he wasn't sure what to do to fix it.

meanwhile miles was glaring at you both, his face full of anger and disgust. he was too angry to think straight, and he was ready to fight for what was his…

“miles.. i’m sorry-“ you began to button up your blouse and began walking towards him. you tried to reach out your hand to comfort him but miles only ignored it, pushing past you.

he glared at milo with venom in his eyes. he was too angry to listen to anything you had to say. miles had seen enough, and he knew what you two had been doing. he was devastated and enraged, as his eyes were full of hatred towards his own brother. he was ready to take out all of his anger on milo.

milo and miles began to fight as the two of them exchanged blows and insults. they were both caught up in the moment, and they weren't going to stop until one of them was down on the floor. it was a brutal fight, with no rules or boundaries. they were both furious, and they were going to take out all of their anger on each other.

you tried to intervene, but you were no match for the two of them as they kept pushing you off to avoid you getting in harm’s way. you immediately went out of the bed room, going to the living room and reaching out for your bag and calling a number.

“mamá morales! please come home, i don’t know what to do!” you started to hyperventilate, hearing the clatter and ruckus over at milo’s room.

“hija, what’s happening? are you hurt?” rio asked.

“milo and miles, they’re fighting— please hurry!” you began to pace around, hearing their grunts.

“okay, okay. i’m on my way.” rio said as she ended the call.

“whatever the hell you just did, that’s some messed up shit, ‘Lo!” miles landed a blow on him.

“why the hell would you mess with my girl?!” Miles asked, feeling a punch on his cheek from Milo.

“it’s not like that, miles. you’re were never here for her. you’re always away, doing your spider-man shit, leaving me to take care of her instead. so don’t act all pissed at me when you’re the one who’s never here for her.” milo said truthfully since you weren’t here to listen to their conversation.

“you’re my brother, milo! out of all the people who would do this, you’re the very last person i expected to do this to me!” miles shouted as they continued to fight.

“and you’re a horrible boyfriend to her, so i guess we’re even!” milo shouted back.

the two began to wrestle on the ground as you waited in the living room. thankfully, miles and milo’s parents, jeff and rio, came along with their uncle aaron.

“hija..” rio went to hug you.

“are you okay, where-“ rio was cut off as soon as she saw her two sons come out of milo’s room and begin to fight in the living room.

this was a sign for the two men to get ahold of each boy. jeff held back miles as uncle aaron held milo back from fighting each other.

the fighting stopped as the twins were separated from each other. they were both breathing heavily, as they tried to catch their breaths. there was a tense atmosphere in the room now, as the two brothers looked at each other in anger still. milo looked at his brother, with a look of pure malice and hatred in his eyes whilst miles looked back at him with disgust and betrayal.

they had both gotten some good hits in during the fight, and they wouldn’t back down now… it was clear that they were not done with each other, and that this was far from over...

“los dos, ¡dejen de hacerlo, en este instante! (both of you, stop it, right now!)” rio yelled as the twins stopped trying to get out of the grasps, continuing to glare at each other.

you looked at the situation in horror as you realized what you had done. you were the cause of this whole fight between your boyfriend and his brother…

“cariño.. i suggest you go home for now, alright? but are you okay, are you hurt anywhere?” rio asked you as she held your hands while leading you to the front door.

while rio was doing that, both miles and milo used this advantage of trying to get past their father and uncle aaron but they wouldn’t budge.

“hey, hey, miles! stop!” jeff tried to control him.

“milo, milo! chill, man!” uncle aaron made sure he wouldn’t get past him.

“i’m fine…i think.” you said, as you brushed off your clothes.

“i just…i just need some time to think…” you said as you left their apartment and start to head back home.

just when rio closed the door, anger contorted up in her face as she walked back into the living room, still seeing the boys against jeff and aaron’s hold. the two stopped struggling against their hold as soon as they saw their mother coming back.

“sería mejor que uno de vosotros empezara a hablar...(one of you better start talking..)” rio said threateningly as she sat down, crossing her arms and waiting for one of the twins to talk.

miles and milo remained in a standoff, their bodies panting heavily and their eyes full of anger. they were both trying to take deep breaths, as the tension continued to hang in the air. milo was the first to speak up, as he looked at his twin brother.

“what i’m saying is true, you’re just in denial. you’re never here for her.”

miles ignored him, as he continued to glare at him.

“i know what she wants…” his voice was filled with malice now, as he spoke again. “and it’s not you.”

“oh, screw yourself, milo! you’re full of shit!” miles snapped back as he tried to get past his father’s grasp to punch milo but jeff wouldn’t let him.

“well maybe if you actually treated her like you loved her, she wouldn't be so willing to cheat.” milo clenched his fists, as he tried to break free from his uncle aaron’s grasp.

“ ’Lo, that’s enough.” uncle aaron scolded him as he felt milo use all his strength to get to miles.

milo looked up at uncle aaron, his eyes still full of malice.

“no, it’s not. not until i’ve seen him on the floor, it’s not.” milo sneered, as he glared at miles with hate and disdain in his eyes.

“miles, we both know you’re a terrible boyfriend. y/n’s better off without you.” milo taunted as he saw miles shaking with rage.

“nah.. you planned all of this.. you lured her into some kind of trap and made her want to cheat! she was fine before you came into our business!” miles yelled back.

“she was fine? are you serious? she was a mess, and it was all because of you. you were never there for her. she needed someone who could give her the attention she wanted, and that’s exactly what i did, dumbass. now, she's better off without you.” milo shot back, as he continued to struggle against uncle aaron.

“she realized that she deserves better than you, miles.”

that statement angered miles to the max as he was trying to use all his strength to get past his father and beat the shit out of milo right now.

“you know i’m right, miles! you’ve been taking her for granted, and she's finally gotten sick of it… she doesn’t love you anymore.” milo let out a chuckle, as he smiled mischievously at his twin.

“¡cállate! both of you!” rio yelled making both twins to stop struggling against jeff and uncle aaron.

miles and milo both looked at their mother, as they finally stopped struggling. they were both exhausted now, their bodies covered in sweat and their faces full of rage. they were both furious, and they were not going to let this go so easily.

jeff and aaron distanced them away from each other, while still standing infront of them, seeing the twin brothers continue to glare at each other. they knew that this was far from over, and that the twins were going to go at it again the first chance they got..

“i’m going ask each of you a question, okay? miles, i’m going to start with you since your older. why did you start fighting your brother?” rio looked at miles, expecting an answer from him.

miles sighed, as he looked at his mother. he was exhausted from the fight, and he didn't want to answer the question, but he knew he had to.

“because i caught milo kissing my girlfriend, mamá..” his voice was filled with anger as his eyes turned to milo.

“he ruined my relationship with y/n! he didn’t deny it either, so i know he’s only after her for one thing. and she deserves better than that.” miles accused milo of using y/n, this led to milo being offended since he sincerely liked y/n.

“don’t even start, you pric—” milo was cut off by his mother.

“milo.. now, why would you do that to your brother? you know julia and miles are dating so why?” rio asked, wanting to hear out both boys and trying to understand both sides.

“he doesn’t treat her properly, mamá. he never puts her first in their relationship, and she deserves better than him.” milo glared at miles.

“now, miles. is what milo saying true? did you never make time for her?” rio asked.

miles was taken aback by this question. he hadn’t expected his mother to ask him about this, and he wasn’t sure how to answer it. well he couldn’t tell her that he was spider-man. that would lead to more drama.

now miles was furious, and he didn’t want to admit to her that he had been a terrible boyfriend to you…

“it’s true…” miles finally admitted, as he looked at his mother with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“i have been a bad boyfriend, and i’m sorry…but what he did still isn’t right.”

“i understand that.” rio nodded as she turned to milo.

“now, milo.. what made you think kissing your brother’s girlfriend was going to be okay?” rio asked him.

milo was quiet for a moment, as he realized that he didn’t have a good answer for this. he had let his malice and jealousy get in the way, and he had done something that he shouldn’t have done. He looked at his mother with shame and regret.

“i… i liked her first, ma..”

"it doesn't matter whether you liked her first or if i did. guess who she went out with first, me—"

“miles.” rio said sternly, giving him a warning look, making miles shut up.

“jeff.. aaron..” rio moved both men aside, taking each one of milo and miles’ hands.

milo and miles let their mother lead them like kids that had been caught fighting. they both looked at her with shame and embarrassment. they knew that they had messed up, and they were not sure what to do now. they were both ready to do whatever their mother said, even if it meant being grounded or punished in some way..

“vosotros dos son hermanos, ¿entiendes? (you two are brothers, you understand?) you’re each other’s flesh and blood and i don’t want to see my boys fight like this ever again..” rio gripped onto their hands tightly as she began to tear up.

“the two of you have been there each other ever since you were kids and you depended on each other.. i don’t want that to stop because of all this drama, okay?” her voice started to break as she looked at both her sons.

milo and miles both went silent, as they looked at their mother crying. they had never seen her so upset, and they had never been so ashamed of their actions before. they were both ready to make things right, and they would do anything to ensure that this didn't happen again... milo looked up at his mother, as he wiped his own tears away. he was sorry for what he had done, and he was ready to make things right...

“lo siento, mamá... we won’t fight like that no more..”

“i’m sorry too, ma.. we'll never fight again, we promise.”

it was silent for a moment. milo looked at miles, as he spoke softly to him.

“miles.. i'm sorry... i was upset and jealous cause i didn’t make my move that time... i should've never done that.”

miles let out a sigh, as he looked at milo. he didn't know what to say, as he was also overcome with emotions. he was angry, but he was also hurt and ashamed of what he had done. he wanted to forgive his twin brother, but he wasn't sure if he could...

he looked at miles nervously, as he waited for his answer.

“bro, please… i know i messed up, but i promise to never do it again. i won’t ever try to mess with you and y/n… i swear, i won’t.” milo had meant what he said, and he was ready to make things right between him and his twin.

he wanted to make things up to you, and he wasn’t going to mess this up again… the fate of their relationship was in miles’ hands now, and milo was ready to accept whatever he decided…

miles slowly nodded, as he looked milo. He wasn’t sure how to feel, as he was still hurt by what his brother had done. but he also didn’t want to hold onto that hurt, and he knew that they both needed to move on from this. he took a deep breath, as he let go of his anger and resentment and forgave milo. he knew that they both had made mistakes, and he wasn’t going to let this tear them apart anymore...

“yeah, let’s move on from this..” miles said as he extended his hand to milo. milo took it as he felt miles give him a hug, giving the hug back as well.

rio just looked at her two sons, happy that they have reconciled.

“as for y/n.. i feel like you two should give her some time to think. she seemed pretty shocked about everything that has happened.” rio added.

“yeah, i'll make it up to her somehow... and i’ll make it up to you too, mom... i promise. just…give me time.” milo let out a weary sigh, as he nodded in obedience.

he knew he had messed up big time, and he wasn't going to mess this up again. he was ready to make things right between him and his twin, and he was ready to do whatever it took to make up for his mistakes.

“and please.. whoever she chooses, whether it’s one of you, just be happy for each other, alright?” rio asked pleadingly, not wanting her sons to be in another fight.

both miles and milo nodded, as they let out a sigh of relief. they were both ready to move on from this whole ordeal, and they were both ready to set their differences aside for the sake of their family.*

“of course, mom... we won’t fight like this again. you have my word.” miles promised as he looked at his mother with a sincere look on his face. milo also nodded, agreeing with his twin brother. they would set their differences aside and work together to make up for what had happened.

(a week later)

you had tried her best to ignore both boys. everytime you saw miles or milo in the halls, you would turn around and go the other way just so you wouldn’t have to converse with them at all. this worried miles and milo heavily.

“oh, come on! she can’t still be angry at us…we’ve tried to apologize to her, but she just won’t listen.” miles complained to miles as they made their way down the hall towards their classes. they had both tried to apologize to you repeatedly, but you just ignored them every time. they were both frustrated since they were ready to make things right with you.

“what the hell do we do now? she won’t even look at us…” milo asked, as they both continued to walk down the hall towards their classes.

as you were walking with your friends, you saw miles and milo walking together in the corner of your eye as you began to panick.

“uh, i’ll meet you later in class, i think i left something in my locker!” you quickly said before rushing off.

“wait, y/n!” miles called out, as he and milo were both surprised to see her after all this time.

“y/n, wait!” milo called out as well as both boys tried to catch up to you and talk to you.

they didn’t want to let this go on any longer, and they were ready to make things right with you now.

“y/n, we’re sorry!” they both said in unison as they continued to chase after you. but you wouldn’t stop until you felt miles’ hand come in contact with your arm.

“let go of me, miles!” you yanked yourself off his grip harshly.

both miles and milo was surprised by this reaction, as miles let go of your arm. miles didn't want to make you uncomfortable as he stepped back and put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. he was ready to talk to her, but he didn't want to force her or make her feel like she had to speak to him. he was ready to give her space if she wanted it, and he hoped that she would be ready to talk to him at some point soon.

“i'm sorry, y/n… for never being there..” miles let out a weary sigh as he looked down at the ground with shame.

you were about to go and run, but you didn’t. you stayed in place as you looked at both boys, a sigh leaving your lips.

“no, miles.. i’m sorry.. im sorry for driving a wedge between you and milo.” you apologized.

the twins was surprised by this, as they had expected you to be angry at both of them still. they were ready to try to make it up to her, and they were happy that you seemed willing to hear them out now.

milo looked at miles as he shared a smile with his twin and let out a sigh of relief. they hoped that this was the start of them making things right between them all. milo was ready to make things up to you, and miles was ready to work together to repair your relationship with you, too.

“it’s okay, y/n.. miles and i have made up and—”

“no, it’s not okay! it was never going to be okay.. did you know how much that broke me? seeing two of the boys i love fight over.. me? are you serious?” I started to tear up.

“you two are willing to risk your brotherly relationship for someone like me..? i can’t do that to the both you, i can’t..” you shook your head.

milo felt awful as he realized how much he had hurt her. he didn't want to cause her any pain and he knew that he had been selfish and cruel in what he had done. he was ready to take the blame for everything, and he was ready to try to make things right now. He knew that you deserved better, and he was ready to make it up to her now.

“im sorry, y/n... i was being a selfish jerk, and i didn't think about how my actions would affect you…” milo looked at her sadly.

“please, y/n.. we’re not forcing you anything but please, give us a chance to never make that mistake again..” miles held your hand.

“you’re right.. you both won’t ever make that mistake again because.. i can’t be in a relationship with either one of you..” you revealed, taking your hand away as you turned to face somwhere else.

“whether it’s a friendly relationship or not.. i cant risk a sibling relationship like that ever again.. i’m sorry.” you walked away, feeling deeply remorseful for ending your relationship with both twins.

even if you wanted to stay just as friends, you knew you couldn’t. it would’ve been too selfish of you.

both boys were devastated by this, as they both let out a sigh of defeat. they knew you were right, and they couldn’t argue with you even if they wanted to. they were ready to accept that they had made a huge mistake, and they would move on. they had lost the girl they both loved, and they were both ready to accept that now. both boys had had their chance, and they blew it.

“Aight Mama I’m gone.” Miles departed his home without waiting for a response. Simply just announcing it. He double-checked his pockets for his belongings such as his wallet, keys, and phone before heading to the complex’s stairs. Miles was well aware of the elevator of the apartment but refused to use it when he happened to be trapped in it for hours once when the power went out.

He entered the staircase hearing faint noises of feet pattering against the steel stairs and panting from just a story below him. Brushing off the curiosity that burned within him, he jogged down the stairs catching a quick glimpse of a feminine body and a mutt on a leash. And as much as he’d want to resist the urge to spit game, he couldn’t. From the tiny glance he got, you were quite cute to him. Hell, fine if you’d let him describe you. And what made it even better was that you were living in the same complex, maybe even on the same floor.

He paced out the door, peering left and right to search for you, but you were nowhere to be found within his eyesight.

“Where the hell did she go?” Miles mumbled spacing out. He hadn’t even remembered exactly where he had intended to go after being distracted by a stranger. He wanted to see you again, and if it was truly the right timing, he knew you’d appear again with a chance for him to talk to you.

He slipped his headphones into his ear blasting his rap music, letting the sudden urge go. He had business to do with his uncle Aaron. He couldn’t let someone he didn’t even know to stop him from grinding. He had to make money somehow and he was trusting his uncle enough to provide him with any source of help even if it did involve physical interactions.

“You ready?” Uncle Aaron glances at the window that Miles just climbed into.

“Yeah.”

— — —

Miles had just finished beating a man to a pulp, rummaging through his pockets to snatch his wallet. He had an exact reason to be taking all sorts of funds the man had regarding the business he had been involved with his uncle. He refused to pay so Miles hit the lick and made sure he got his part. He scratched off the blood that rested on his busted lip grunting in slight pain. He double-checked the area before leaving the narrow alley and heads back up to Uncle Aaron’s.

“Just who I'm looking for!” Aaron grinned wiping his weapons clean of any evidence. He approached Miles dapping him up aggressively.

“How we coming.” Aaron asks regarding the money he needed to be dealt with.

“Homie had it the whole time,” Miles responded revealing the toen wallet that he had stole from the man earlier.

“My nigga.” Aaron chuckled counting the money and splitting an even amount between him and Miles. “Good work my boy, I'll hit you up later about some other folks too.” handing the stack of cash into his bruised hands.

Miles exits the way he entered hopping down the fire escape. He adjusted his shoulders walking off as if nothing happened. He desperately ached for some sleep awaiting to crash into his bed after a hot shower. He approached his complex seeing that same girl from earlier. He grinned with excitement. You had looked exhausted too, hair all frizzy from the sweat that beaded at your hairline and down your collarbone, you had this tired expression that just drove him crazy.

As he sluggishly approached you, he had forgotten all about the little creature below that launched itself at you. If it weren't for that leash, he probably would've gotten to him. Miles immediately reacted with his reflexes.

“Get yo fucking dog!” Miles nearly boots the dog.

“It don’t bite.” You played around knowing good and well your dog Benzo would demolish his ankles. This was slightly amusing to you, but of course, to avoid any charges being pressed against you, you reeled Benzo closer to you by his leash. You took a good gaze at the man that nearly got bitten by your dog Benzo and flashed a quick grin. He was so fine to you. The white tee matched with a light gray Nike tech sweatsuit and some pure money Jordans decorated with a gold chain sitting around his neck was so attractive on his slim but toned body.

“Yes, the fuck it do!” Miles retorted flinching back at the dog.

He was so silly and just made you even more interested in him. Your eyes had yet to trail away from his hazel-brown orbs sinking deep into your soul. You were never really quite sure about the long hair on men but he made it work. Thoughts chasing your mind of little scenarios you two would be in if this all went right.

“Alright but seriously are you okay?” you giggled keeping Benzo tucked away behind your legs. Benzo whined anticipating to smell him or maybe bite him, you weren't sure. So you decided to keep a safe distance between you two.

“I'm aight, don't even trip.” he breathed out.

“Is there anything I can do to make up for scaring you? I feel bad for laughing.” you snickered again making Miles doubt you meant it.

“We can start with your name, ma.” Miles wanted to find any way to touch you but out of respect, he didn't want to and also didn't have the clean hands to do so.

“I'm y/n, but you can call me (nickname).” you shifted all your weight onto your hip holding the smirk he gave you on your face.

“I'm Miles Morales,” he starts. You hummed after taking in his accent. It was sexy to you, and addicting. “A girl like you got a man don't you?” he continues trying to flirt back with you.

Miles was frightened but relieved seeing your figure come through his window. ‘I really need to lock my damn window.’ He thought. The dim lights revealed that you had dried tear marks on your face informing Miles that you’ve been crying before you got his house. When he gave you that advice he didn’t think it’ll end this quick. He’d given it about another week or so, then you’d come to him about the news of you and your boyfriend splitting.

“C’mere, ma. I got you.” Miles reassured, patting the empty spot beside him on the bed.

It was rude to say this at such a distraught moment but, Miles had been waiting months for this. Even though it took you getting a man to recognize his own feelings, and how you should be treated properly to figure it out. If you’d let him, Brent would have been gotten either cussed out or his ass whooped with the things that you told him. He drew the line when he discovered that he’d been yelling at you.

The first time witnessing it had been a while ago when you were on the phone with him as you two were out and about since Brent refused to go out with you. Miles overheard the conversation, no, eavesdropping in on the conversation when he heard shouting from the other end of the phone.

Miles snatched your phone from you, drawing it towards his ear before checking him. “Ion know who the fuck you think you talkin’ to homie. Say another damn word and I’ll air that bitch out on my mama.” He spat hanging up on Brent. You were appalled indefinitely.

“Promise if I catch the fuck nigga yellin’ at you again, I ain’t holdin’ back.” Miles warned. And those words he meant. Even to this day. Brent was cautious enough to watch when he’d yell at you. Brent wasn’t too intelligent but he wasn’t completely dumb neither. He knew when you’d be around Miles because of the tone you’d use. You were more stern with him when Miles was around, but the second he wasn’t you were uncomfortably submissive.

“You can talk ‘bout it whenever you ready, I ain’t gone force it out of you.” Miles wasn’t really great when it came to comforting someone. Well that’s what he assumed. He dreaded giving out any advice knowing that people gone do what they want to. He didn’t have time to hear about what went wrong when they should’ve listened to him the first damn time. He didn’t take any bull shit. Everyone that knew him was well aware of that.

But you, it was entirely a different view. Miles tended to be more caring and considerate when it came to you venting to him about your problems. You rarely asked for advice and gathered your own after letting it all out. All you ever needed was a listening ear and would get an opinion if you’d been indecisive of your next move. Miles respected that. You weren’t begging for advice or involving him into your problems. You just wanted to talk, and Miles loved hearing your soft attractive voice, although it was never anything good coming out of your mouth most of the time.

Your phone buzzed against the bed taking the both of you by surprise. You removed to your phone from your back pocket revealing a no caller ID call coming through. Miles peered into your phone. He wanted to wait to see what you’d do before taking any action. You allowed it to ring seconds more before pressing the green button. Miles wanted to smack his lips so bad. If he didn’t have any self control he would’ve grabbed your phone and tossed it across his room.

You placed the phone on speaker hearing panting. “Hello?” Whoever was on the other line spoke.

“Hmm?” You hummed not willing to give much conversation. You knew exactly who it was. You answered out of impulse unfortunately, slightly regretting that you did. “Y/N, I’m heading to yours. We’re gonna talk this out, okay!” Brent breathed out exhaustively.

Miles just despised this man. Rolling his eyes so hard that they’ve probably rotated a complete 360. He knew that Brent was attempting to manipulate you by showing emotions. He wanted you to feel pity and Miles was not going for it. Miles held back for far too long. He takes your phone in his hand, “Nah, you can turn the fuck around and go the hell home. That’s what you can do fuck nigga.” Miles demanded waiting to see if Brent dared to say a single syllable.

“That’s what the fuck I thought.” He hung up the call tossing your phone on the bed.

“Tch, lame ass nigga.” Miles scoffed. You weren’t phased with how urban he got, rather seeming to find it as protection. You felt safe when he got like this. Compared to someone that punked out when he’d finally get called out on his shit.

“Thanks again.” You chuckled. It was a bit embarrassing the amount of times you’ve had Miles confront Brent for you. Ashamed that you were even terrified of speaking your mind to him.

“You straight. As long as you don’t go running back to him.” Miles exhaled. He hadn’t forgot the words that you said when entering his room. “Miles, I’m ready to give us a try.” Was engraved into his mind.

He hoped it didn’t slip out while you were battling your thoughts and feelings and didn’t mean a thing. He didn’t want to bring up your words and use them against you. And if he’s being bluntly honest, kind of wanted to hear you say it again.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked.

Miles was expecting a full confession professing your undeniable feelings for him or he’d cut to the chase and officially ask you to be his but this, he did not expect.

“You ain’t got to ask, ma. Go for it.” Miles implied enjoying this moment that revealed a new charismatic side of you. You swung your legs over him, hovering right before his lap as your hands held onto his nape for support. You were full of surprises that Miles wasn’t aware of. You took a glance of his shocked expression with a hint of anxiousness like he was nervous.

Your lips crashed onto his tasting the mint chapstick he wore, biting his lips as you pulled away. His hands rested on your love handles gently squeezing you. “That’s it ma? You don’t want another taste?” He teased gazing at you with his half opened eyes. What he didn’t know that you were holding back. From what exactly, oh maybe from making out with him until you can’t resist the urge to breathe.

He didn’t have to tell you twice before diving in for another deep kiss. His tongue grazing over your bottom lip for permission to enter. You allowed it, letting your tongues wrestle aggressively. He pulled away feeling almost ashamed of how desperate he ached to feel your lips.

“I gotta stop before I do something to you.” He smirked lifting you off oh his lap and taking a lap around his room.