people are always like “miles’ canon event is his uncle dying/his dad dying” cmon now. everyone knows that miles’ real canon event is getting a dope ass pair of jordan 1s
Miles G. Morales… loves to do new hairstyles on you. He really appreciates it when you offer to let him practice a style he really wanted to get better at.
Miles G. Morales… enjoys wearing matching pajamas with you whenever you both have sleepovers. Miles is also very secure so yes he would wear hello kitty pajamas
Miles G. Morales… writes down things about you all the time after having a conversation with you or learning about your interests through your rants. He has a whole dedicated to you.
Miles G. Morales… has amazing music taste. which he will show off at times and he will disect these songs to a T. Also makes playlists for you after random things he sees. The covers are each a different picture of you.
Miles G. Morales… likes to roughhouse with you but gently of course. He thinks it’s fun to have matches with you and always keeps track of them.
AN - DAMN I MISS MILES LIEK CRAY CRAY soooo yur lemme make theseeeee.
can you do a fic where 42!miles gets hurt after you two had a big argument and now you have to clean him up while still mad at him?? sorry if this didn't make sense
yess!! This is so cute I love it!! Thx for requesting <3
TW: BLOOD, mention of being hurt/wounds, use of Y/N in place of reader's name, very very slight angst (mostly fluff)
___________
Click
You locked your window and pulled the curtains closed with a huff. Your phone was silenced, your door was locked and you had promised yourself that no matter what, you were ignoring him.
Complete silent treatment.
The two of you had had a pretty big argument (and you could barely even remember how it'd started) so of course, you decided to be petty and pretend he didn't exist.
He always tried to make it up to you when you fought, climbing in through your window late at night, with a bouquet of hand-picked flowers or a movie he rented for the two of you to watch.
He'd be pretty silent about it, pretty nonchalant, and he'd plop down beside you on the bed and hold you. Not a word would be exchanged. And you'd always forgive him.
Not this time though. You were too mad.
So you decided you'd sit down, do your homework, and if you heard a knock at your window you'd simply pretend it never happened.
He could take care of himself.
You weren't going to be his little nurse. Not tonight.
But then of course...you were never one to leave him hanging.
It'd barely been fifteen minutes from when you'd started your homework when you heard a quiet knock at your window. You ignored it.
And then he knocked again. This time, you hesitated. You wanted to open it, you really did...but you didn't. No. You had to stand your ground. You weren't going to give in.
"Y/N" you heard his voice. The tapping on the window got louder, sloppier. "Y/N!" his voice was hoarse, not quiet and playful like usual. It was different.
But you stayed silent. You weren't going to let him in, you promised yourself.
"Y/N, please." You dropped your pencil. His voice was just a whisper now and you could barely hear it outside the locked window. He tapped one more time. "I'm hurt."
You felt chills on your neck and you immediately walked towards the window, pulling the curtains open. There he was, crouching against your balcony. His Prowler mask was on, his gauntlets were hanging off his hands.
And his shirt was soaked in blood.
You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight. He reached his arm up with a pained groan, pulling his mask off. His brow was soaked in sweat, his face glistening slightly in the moonlight. "Please." he mouthed.
Robotically, you pulled open the window. You took his arm and helped him in, and he basically collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily.
You helped him sit up, his back pressed against the wall. You quickly got to work, like you always did when he showed up in pain, grabbing your first-aid kit from underneath your bed and snapping it open quietly.
He winced as you began cleaning his wounds, pulling his shirt up so you could get to where the blood was coming from. He had a slash right across his stomach, blood gushing out in ribbons of red. It was never-ending.
You pressed an old t-shirt to the wound, trying your best to make some sort of tourniquet to stop the flow of the blood before pouring the rubbing alcohol over it. He covered his mouth with his hand and groaned, eyes squeezing shut, tears prickling the edges.
As you worked, he fell completely silent. You did too, too focused on keeping him alive to notice his eyes on you.
Not a word was exchanged.
Then a quiet, "Are you still mad at me?"
You looked up for a moment, eyes meeting his as he stared at you. They were hooded, but filled with sadness. He tilted his head back, a quiet sigh escaping his lips as he blinked, still keeping his eyes on yours.
He looked like he wanted to say something. He didn't.
So neither did you.
But after another moment,
"I'm sorry."
It was just a whisper, so quiet you'd barely even heard it, but it meant so much. You felt your eyes tear up and you refused to look at him, continuing to gently work on his wounds.
"Say something." he whispered, pushing your hands off of him and sitting up. He grabbed your arms, holding your hands in his. "Please. Anything. I'm-I'm sorry."
You looked at him, taking a shaky breath. Suddenly, you jumped towards him, practically melting into his arms when they wrapped around you.
And just like that...everything felt better.
"Ow-" he winced as you accidentally put pressure on his sore wound, and you immediately shifted yourself, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "Sorry."
"It's okay. I-I'm sorry. You shouldn't be sorry, I'm sorry." he stammered, taking your face in his hands as gently as he could. He smiled slightly, wiping away the remnants of tears in the corners of your eyes. "Are you crying?"
"No!" you quickly responded, pulling back. "I just-I just-"
"It's okay. You can cry" he said with a grin, sitting up again with a grunt.
"I'm not crying because of the argument, you jerk." you said with a huff. "I-I just hate seeing you like this. I get scared." your voice sounded so small in the moment, it was like a completely different person had appeared.
His gaze softened. "I see." He gestured for you to come back towards him and you did, resting your head against his chest as he held you close. "Thank you. For letting me in." he whispered, kissing the top of your head gently, his lips lingering for a moment longer than usual.
"Of course." you replied with a smile, looking up at him with crinkled eyes. "Are you feeling better?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I am." he said, returning the smile before giving you a gentle kiss, hands cupping your face as he pulled you close. You giggled before snuggling up to him a little closer, making sure to be careful not to graze his still sensitive cuts.
"So you're not mad at me anymore?" he asked tentatively, closing his eyes as he buried his face in your neck. You stayed silent for a moment and you could swear you felt his heart drop when you didn't respond.
You grinned. "No. I'm not mad anymore." He chuckled, nervously almost. "You had me there for a second." he whispered, kissing your cheek gently.
"I am sorry though."
"What for?"
He froze. "For...for the argument."
"What part of the argument?"
He stayed silent and you couldn't help but laugh. So he'd forgotten how it'd started too. Funny.
"I forgot too, Miles. Don't worry."
He breathed out a sigh of relief and laughed, tilting his head back. "Jesus, you scared me."
"Not as bad as you scared me, knocking on my window like that. There's blood everywhere" you said with a frown, glancing back towards the window.
He pulled your head back gently. "Don't look at the blood, just look at me. We can worry about that later, yeah?"
You smiled, nodding before hugging him again. His fingers brushed through your hair as he held you close, breathing matching yours. A tender moment.
"I love you, you know that right?" he asked softly, lips moving to kiss your forehead one more time.
"I know, Miles. I love you too."
_______
🥺🥺🥺 im gonna cry
why did I write this it literally hurts how cute it is
— pairing: e42!miles x blackcoded!fem!reader
— genre: suggestive but fluff
— summary: attractive things Miles does that makes you fold.
— a/n: TY YALL FOR 500 OMG N HAPPY LATE BDAY TO MY MAN + WE BACK W A PT TWOOOO, i folded js as hard w this one so i hope yall do too!! i do have those two fics comin in, im js posting this to keep yall entertained! mwah, enjoy !!
part 1 part 3 !
MILES MORALES that's gets mad jealous, like, maddd jealous. When he's with others, he'll always call you "my girl" so that they know you're his girlfriend. He wont hesitate to kiss you in front of smb that thinks they have a chance. p.s, they don't.
MILES MORALES that cuddles for hours and won't let you leave unless your practically dying to go to the bathroom. If you try, he'll just hold you tighter.
"Nah amor, you gon stay right here."
"Miles, I-"
Nuh uh."
MILES MORALES who always has you sat on his lap. he's playing games? you on his lap. y'all talking? you on his lap. y'all making out? oh, you are most definitely on his lap.
speaking of making out..
MILES MORALES who has his hands all over you when you make out. there's no place it stays, your face, your neck, your hips, waist, thighs, its always there.
MILES MORALES who likes (and you do too) to have music play while yall kiss. summer walker, kehlani, he does not care. as long as its in your playlist and its slow, he's playing it.
MILES MORALES who invites you to go the gym with him. it dont matter if you actually work out or not, he just asks so he can have you there and watch him work out. he aint gon admit it though.
"ma! im bouta go to the gym, come wit me."
"baby, you know ion work out."
"ian ask if you wanted to. i just want you to be with me, so come onn."
"you just want me to watch you, huh?"
"..mami, im not bouta ask you twice, come with me."
MILES MORALES that will happily let you borrow his clothes, there's not even much of a point of trying to steal them because he's already handed them to you.
MILES MORALES who dances bachata with you in private. he's not too much of a public dancer, but when you to are in private, it's a whole different story.
MILES MORALES who will listen to you talk about anything becuase he adores your voice with all his heart. If it's something you like, he'll buy it for you, just as a reminder than he listens.
"Go on ma, keep talking to me, I'm all ears."
MILES MORALES who grabs your waist instead of saying excuse me because he knows you like it.
MILES MORALES who has most definitely graffitied a place with both y'alls initials on it.
"awwee, my man breaking the law for me."
"you like it?"
"love it."
Can you write Miles 42 where you do that one TikTok prank on him where someone keeps texting you and he gets mad and stuff and tries to look at your phone 😭
Give me the Phone.
E42!Miles x Fem!Reader
“Not gon’ say nothin’, chiquita?”
i’m gonna be real i have no clue what that trend is but the idea was adorbs 🤭
The decision to mess with him, in hindsight, may have been stupid.
But you just couldn’t help it.
So you hit record, and your friend, Anita, started bombarding you with texts, in on the bit.
It was so fun just to toy with him every now and then, get him riled up. A little angry, it was all in good fun. So it didn’t really matter in the long run, he always forgave you.
And the way he would eye you from across the room, as you giggled and smiled at your phone—.
Was pretty much worth it.
He was unable to do anything about it though, with everyone else around. Of course, you’d decided to mess with him in front of his family. When you couldn’t be called out.
His Mom and Uncle were barely two feet away from him, talking amongst themselves and occasionally addressing someone else at the inconveniently timed family gathering.
He watched you snort again as you glanced at the message, quickly smirking at the mystery-person’s notif.
No one is so eager to text with a friend. No one giggles and smiles when talking through text.
You don’t giggle at texts.
Miles leans back from his seat on the couch opposite to you, coffee table between the two of you. He drapes a hand over his knee and watches as your eyes trail him up.
He tips his head back and sighs, glaring at you from under his eyelashes. Your posture straightens and you eye his Adams apple before your screen flashes again, and your attention is gone.
This goes on for around another eight minutes before he loses his mind. He groans, checking the faces around you both to see no one in his belated family paying either of you attention.
Slowly, he gets up. Stretching to his full height and glowering down at you. You glance up at him innocently, another small smirk settled on your lips and he huffs a quick breath.
Miles rolls the joints in his neck and you can’t help but observe the way his tense posture makes him look ever-more menacing. A jolt of attraction shocking your spine.
The way his smirk curved his soft lips up,how his sunken eyes glowed threateningly on an up-cast light.
“C’mon, Mami.”
“Hmm?”
“Get up.”
He side stepped the table, being close to you now, his height towering over you from your sat position.
You sheltered the phone screen, making sure he couldn’t see you record.
“I’m busy—,”
“Now, Chiquita.”
“You can’t make me.”
The way you pouted up at him drove him mad, your eyebrows furrowing in defiance and your tone lifting.
"Bueno, entonces hagamos la cuenta regresiva."
You rolled your eyes, “Oh my god Miles! I’m not a kid.” You placed your phone face down beside you on the couch. He hummed.
Lowly, under his breath he spoke, “Three.”
“Fuck—, whatever fine. I’m up.” You roll your eyes, and push yourself up, grabbing your phone as you went.
“Talk t’me like a damn child.”
“‘S cause ya’ actin’ like a damn child.”
“Am not.”
He paused, dropping his face deadpan, and you snorted at the irony.
“See?”
“Whatever, loser. You’re just jealous i’m more fun.”
“Not what I’m jealous about.”
He slipped his palm over yours, linking your fingers with his. A few of his family members glanced your way, and you shifted in embarrassment before they looked away, paying you no mind.
Miles dragged you along with him, politely excusing himself, and you, from people who approached and made his way to his room. You following begrudgingly behind him.
He opened the door with a grip too tight, swung it open and clambered you both inside, before letting go of your hand and slowly shutting the door behind you both. Placing the key in the lock, twisting but not taking it out.
Never the type of man to trap you, or intimidate — you kind of felt bad for messing with him.
His back still to you, you let your knees hit the bed before sitting on the ledge, hands folded neatly in your lap and phone under them, shielding the screen.
Miles cracked his neck, muscles going taught before relaxing again as he turned. Eyes catching your own with a certain glee in them that felt more challenging than happy.
“Wanna ‘xplain yourself, mami?”
You huffed, only watching and pouting as he approached. Crossing your arms over your chest, and griping your forearms.
Unknowingly leaving your phone vulnerable to the man now much closer to you, just like before. Except now there wasn’t anyone stopping him from fucking with you.
“Not gon’ say nothin’, chiquita?”
Your phone buzzed.
You bit your lip and evaded smiling, smugness coming from the small win.
“Mm.” The low rumble of his voice made your eye flick back to his face, curiosity lacing your features for a spilt moment before you schooled them.
While unfocused on anything but his face, he took the opportunity to swipe your phone right from your lap, reflexes much quicker than yours.
“Hh—, Wait—!“ Your hand outstretched to try and catch the phone from his grip, but he was quicker. Holding the phone up high and placing his other hand over your shoulder so you couldn’t stand to grab it.
“Who the fuck—,” He flipped the screen toward himself, and when all he saw was your camera app open, recording for 13 minutes, and a notification from Anita, his smirk raised. One only of disbelief.
“You kiddin’?”
The camera was fixed on your sat body, and he stopped the recording, clicking Anita’s name and watching the texts appear.
You still there?
Did he find out LMAO
BROOO ARE U GETTING UR ASS BEAT LMFAOAOA
i’ll beat his ass tho fr, fight for u bbg 🫶
sorry in advance pumpkin 👩❤️💋👩
tiktoks gonna luv this
“Anita.”
He let his gaze fall on you, amusement and annoyance dancing with his emotions.
“No..” You pouted, dragging your hands back to your laps and smiling sheepishly.
“Oh my fuckin’ god, [Name].”
“It’s a prank?” Even you sounded unsure.
He snorted and glared at you, pushing you back until your back hit the bed.
“You wan’ make a tiktok? We don’ make one.”
“Wha—“
You heard the record button play before you could speak, and felt your instincts kick in a second too late bfore a pillow hit your face. You spluttered—
—Before clambering up the bed to get a pillow too.
“Oh, Fuck you!”
“Nah, Mami, wrecked your chances.”
You grabbed a pillow and swung back behind you, hitting him square in the face before he snatched it off you with a playfully pissed expression. One hand still holding the phone towards you.
You smirked at him and flipped the camera off. “Eat shit, loser.”
“You’re gonna fuckin’ regret that.”
You squealed and laughed, trying to grab another pillow in time before your ankle was grabbed and dragged down the bed, your laughter following.
You did in fact, regret it.
—
+BONUS!!!
“How’s it feel to fuckin’ lose?”
Miles grinned behind the camera, braids loosened slightly due to the tussling between you two—,
“Die.”
He laughed and ended the recording.
“Y’know I love you?”
You pouted, resisting the need in your fluttering heart to smile up at him.
