#miles g morales

[darinaursus]

[hecateisalesbian]

HELLO THIS IS ACTUALLY INSANE

[joolapopola]

Soft love with Miles G. Morales

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.

[alexxuun]

miles is taller than 42-miles because of his spider bite. This is like when your younger brother have a grow spurt and now are slightly taller than you.

[dranktwocoffees]

this guy

[ditsylatte]

Admiration

Pairing: Miles Morales x Artist Reader

Summary: Miles sketches you in the middle of Spanish class and is unfortunately caught. To his surprise, he's not alone.

The lines flow carefully on the blank page as Miles makes precise and slow strokes.

They slowly start to form shapes and become a figure piece by piece. With additional strokes, the blob becomes more detailed.

He lifts his head to look at you once more, just to make sure he gets each intricacy right, even though he has you ingrained in his head.

He notices the slight dip in your left cheek while you bite the inside of your mouth, the concentration in your eyes and furrowed brows while you’re reading, and your delicate hand resting on the side of your right cheek.

He pours all of that into the page along with the soft feeling that stirs inside from just thinking about you.

Ms. Llorente—your Spanish teacher—takes notice of Miles not paying attention. While you have told her you finished all your work early at home, Miles has failed to do anything this whole class.

He's usually a good kid who tries to get his work done while still trying to balance saving the city, but it’s just the first time he felt this affinity towards someone. Sure, he's had‌ little crushes in the past—everyone has—however, this was something new.

That excuse definitely won’t slide when he has to explain to his parents why he has a ‘D’ in his Spanish class.

“Miles,” Ms. Llorente says.

He’s still drawing—still adding onto the piece.

“Miles,” she says again.

When he's still unresponsive, she walks to his desk.

The entire class is watching at this point, even you. You notice his strong fixation on whatever he’s drawing, and you can’t help but be a little curious.

Ms. Llorente grabs Miles' sketchbook from him. “Hm.”

He jumps slightly.

He feels the heat rushing to his face, his hands hopelessly reaching out for his notebook. “Wait, I was, uhm—it’s just—”

She turns her back to him and takes a moment to look at the sketches on the pages. One, two, three times he has drawn you on one page alone. Her eyebrows visibly rise.

“Hmm.” She flips to another page. “Mhm.”

She sits there, nodding her head, going through the notebook.

Miles has no choice but to sit and watch. He can feel the beads of sweat roll down his forehead, eyes on him. He fixes his tie, trying to do something about the itchy feeling of embarrassment, but it does little.

The teacher finally turns back to him. “You know, Mr. Morales, if this is so much more interesting and important than my lesson, why don’t I show the class?”

“Wait! Ms. Llorente, that is really not necessary,” he awkwardly laughs. “You really don’t need to—”

She holds up the sketch.

It was the one he was still working on, and she was showing the entire class.

Miles immediately sinks into his chair, covering his face with his hands.

“Look at what Miles has to share with the class,” she says.

You look at the drawing, noticing it’s a girl sitting at a desk reading a book with AirPods in, wearing—

One kid says your name, asking if that's you.

“Looks like it,” someone replies.

The attention is no longer only on Miles as you sit awkwardly in your chair, feeling like your face is about to burn off because of how hot it is.

Miles looks between his fingers to peek at your reaction, and he immediately feels worse.

You’re just sitting with a tight-lipped smile. He has clearly embarrassed you, and you probably don’t know how to react.

He sees the girl in the desk in front of you lean in to whisper something in your ear, and in response, you shrug.

He heard it, though: ‘I think he likes you.’

“Alright, that's enough. I hope you’ve learned a lesson, Morales,” Ms. Llorente says.

She rests the notebook on his desk, smiling, and gets back to her desk.

He sighs, opening the book to a new page and begins writing notes.

The rest of the class goes by pretty quickly, and before you know it, the bell rings.

Miles is putting away his notebook when you come up to him.

“Hey… I, uhm, liked your drawing,” you say.

“Oh, thanks.” Miles scratches the back of his neck.

“Could I perhaps see it again?” You ask.

He’s slightly hesitant. “You sure you want to?”

You nod. The smile on your face is shy, but your eyes are inquiring.

“Okay,” he responds.

He takes out his notebook to find the page of the drawing he had just made.

You stand patiently, hands at your sides, and that look of curiosity still on your face. Everyone else is leaving the classroom for lunch, including Ms. Llorente, so it’s just the two of you now.

“It’s not finished yet, but…” He puts it on the table.

It takes a moment for you to just look at it closely, appreciating the detail that went into this unfinished piece. It really looks just like you.

“Did you draw this just now?” you ask. “At the start of class?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

He watches you smile at the drawing, faintly tracing over it with your finger.

“You’re very talented,” you say.

“Thanks,” he says as his face heats up again, but this time it's not from embarrassment.

“Wait, I actually have something to show you,” you say.

You place your backpack on another empty desk. Miles sees you looking through it before you pull out a small black notebook. He assumes it’s a notebook, but it’s clearly a sketchbook.

You look through the pages, taking your time to find the right one.

When you do, you put the open sketchbook to your chest.

“Okay, now you have to promise not to judge,” you whisper.

Miles can see the hesitation and unease in your posture and your face, but you were making direct eye contact with him.

So, not wanting you to feel that way around him, he sits up and nods.

“I promise,” he says firmly.

You turn it around.

It was him sitting during lunch. There was a faint outline of Ganke, but most of the focus was on him.

He had a serene smile on his face as his eyes crinkled. His nose, his lips, and his eyebrows were all so very accurate. You had even used colored pencils.

You mess with your hair—still using one hand to hold the sketchbook—as you watch his eyes light up and eyebrows raise.

“Wow, I–”

“Thanks, gotta go.” You quickly close the sketchbook and put your backpack on. “Nice talking to you.”

“Hold up—”

You’re already walking to the door, though.

“You’re very talented too!” he says.

You falter in your steps and come to a stop. The corners of your mouth slightly lift upward.

“That's a lot coming from you, Morales,” you respond, glancing at him.

You walk out the door, leaving Miles to freak out. Wow, that just for real happened.

He packs up his stuff, knowing this was going to be the only thing he was thinking about for the rest of the day.

[populartokyo]

Ain’t nobody’s business

Earth 42 Miles Morales x Fem Reader

Guys don’t judge, first of all english ain’t my first language. And I wanna change my whole page I want to be aesthetic but I have no idea how to do all of this fancy stuff, so if anyone can help out, I’d appreciate it 🙏. Anyways I’m just getting new into this so I accept criticism <3

Warnings: I have none

You and Miles have been together for a while now. He’s everything you could want in a boyfriend— He’s caring, affectionate, protective and makes always sure you’re safe and alright. But there’s one thing that always been a problem, his Chronic lateness.

Sometimes he’d cancel plans last minute, leaving you hanging with no expectations. He even once came with a bouquet of crushed flowers. He was looking at you with his apologetic expression he would always give you, when he knew he messed up. And then there were nights he came to you bruised and beaten. He hated it when you were worried—though you worried for him constantly. He would tell you the most lamest excuse. He never stopped you from patching him up though. Miles was aware how upset that made you. His excuses were always that he needed to help his mom, his Uncle or that he works on Graffiti’s. Maybe they were true, maybe not.

Either way, you still felt kind of neglected. He still checked out on you or texted you regularly. But you wanted him to show up for you, no distractions, no obligations, just you and him.

One night, looong after you’d fallen asleep, Miles slipped in through your bedroom window. He head a rough night as the Prowler. All he wanted and needed after his patrol, was you in his arms so he would know you’re with him and it’s just you and him asides from his own bullshit. As he slipped in, he saw that the moonlight cast a soft glow over your sleeping face. His features softened. Quietly, he peeled off his jacket, revealing the familiar Prowler suit beneath. He undressed in silence, hiding the suit where you wouldn’t find it. Now in only a tanktop and shorts, his body was covered in bruises and dried blood. But he didn’t cared for now, he just needed to hold you and breath you in. He gently lifted the covers and slipped in beside you. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you close, but carefully not to wake you. Your warmth, your scent—it grounded him. His fingers trailed through a strand of your hair, and he smiled softly to himself. If he could freeze time, he let it. And when he looks at your face, he wanted to protect you from any harm on this world. He loves you, and sometimes he thinks to himself why you’d put up with all of his bullshit, why you put up with his missed calls, his lame excuses, the canceled dates… even the bouquet of crushed flowers. But nevertheless, he’s a damn lucky guy and he’d do anything for you, just to see your smile. He still tries his best, but damn. If you only would know why all of that, that he’s the Prowler. Would you still love him? He didn’t wanted to think about that, he pressed a kiss on top of your head and held you to his chest. The warmth and motion stirred you from sleep, and you slight shifted in his arms. Miles noticed that and whispered softly “Did I Wake you, Baby? I’m sorry.” He kissed your head again, even more tenderly this time as a silent apology. You blinked, rubbing your eyes as your voice came out groggy “Miles?” He let out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah it’s me baby.” You have a tired laugh and looked up to him with half lidded eyes. “You snuck in again, didn’t you?” He rolled his eyes and grinned “What? Is it a crime that I want to see my girl?” You could barely see him in the darkness of your room, and the shadows didn’t help. So you reached over and turned on the light on your bedside table— only to see his faintly bruised face. “Miles… what happened ?” You asked, voice laced with worry. “It’s nothing.” He muttered, trying to pull you back onto his chest— but he winced and you didn’t let it happen. “Don’t lie to me. What happened?” He looked away, His eyes were tired, guilty. “Baby… I don’t wanna talk about it.” You sighed, didn’t press. Instead, you got out of the bed and walked towards the bathroom. Miles watched your figure disappear. He knew what you were doing. This wasn’t the first time. You’d patched him up more nights than he could count.

But tonight felt different.

He could sense it. You were more upset than usual. And for once, he didn’t even try to lie— he was too tired. He just wanted your comfort. You returned with the first aid kit and sat on the edge of the bed. You motioned him to sit up, and he obeyed, lifting up his tanktop. You cleaned his wounds, slow and careful, even as he gripped the sheets in pain he stayed quiet. When you reached his face, he flinched as you touched his bruised lip. “Sorry.” You muttered softly “it’s okay.” He whispered back softly.

As you finished bandaging him, he looked up at you with that familiar apologetic expression and gently took your hand in his.“I’m sorry,” he murmured, barely above a whisper. You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you leaned in and pressed a slow, tender kiss to his lips. He froze for a moment, surprised—but only for a heartbeat. Then he melted into it, kissing you back. One hand came up to cup your cheek, the other resting firmly on your waist, pulling you closer. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he guided you onto his lap, keeping you close like he never wanted to let go. The kiss broke, and he buried his head into your shoulder, holding you tighter. Your chest pressed against his, making him wince. "Miles—” "Please… just let me hold you.” He murmured and kissed your neck softly and relaxed into you. You held him, massaging his scalp. He loved that. Still, your voice came out barely above a whisper. “Miles… is everything okay?” He pulled back to look at you. His face was open, vulnerable… and nervous. He knew he couldn’t keep this secret any longer, he knew he had to tell you now or never. "Babe… I need to tell you something.”

That sentence alone sent a chill through you. "I’m listening,” you said, bracing yourself. He swallowed hard, his hands tightening around your waist. "Promise me you won’t hate me. Promise me nothing will change. Promise me you’ll still love me.” You’d never seen him this nervous. "Miles,” you said, trying to soothe him. "I’m serious. Promise me.” He said desperately. Your heart sank. “Is it that bad?” He didn’t answer at first. “Wait… are you cheating on me?” This sentence came out from your mouth before you could’ve stopped it. He blinked, stunned. "Seriously? That’s the first thing you accuse me to do?“ He scoffs and was clearly annoyed and somehow disappointed that you think that he’s cheating on you, he shakes his head ,,No, I do not cheat on you. I’d never do that.“ He sighs. I’m sorry… it’s just—” you hesitated, your voice cracking slightly. “You’ve been canceling our dates, and every time I go to your place, your mom says you’re not home. It just… feels like I’m bothering you.” You looked away . Miles’s expression softened with guilt as he quickly reached out, gently taking your chin between his fingers and turning your face back to his. “No, no, no… baby, look at me.” His gaze locked with yours, and in that moment, he saw it all, the hurt, the confusion, the quiet disappointment in your eyes. It hit him like a punch to the chest. "I would never cheat on you,” he said firmly, voice low but full of emotion. “I don’t even look at other girls. You’re it for me. Only you. I swear.” He took a breath, voice trembling just slightly. “I know I haven’t been there like I should’ve. And I’m so sorry for that. Really, I am. But don’t think for a second that you’re a burden. You’re not. You never have been.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, then pulled back, offering a faint, comforting smile. "If I could, I’d spend every second with you.” But despite the warmth of his words, your question still lingered, he hadn’t explained anything. "Then… why?” you asked quietly. Miles felt his chest tighten. He knew the truth had to come out. He couldn’t keep holding it in—if he didn’t tell you now, you’d both be stuck in this cycle of silence and half-truths. He looked away, jaw tense, nerves crawling up his spine. "Just… promise me—” You cut him off, your voice rising with desperation. “Miles, I promise. Anything. But please, just tell me the truth.” He stared at you for a long moment… then finally exhaled, slowly, and prepared to say the one thing he was terrified to let you hear. Miles inhaled sharply, steadying his nerves. “Okay… okay, here it goes.” He paused, eyes flickering to the floor for a beat before finally meeting yours again. "The reason I’m out late… the reason I cancel plans or disappear without warning—it’s because…” His voice dropped. “I’m the Prowler.” He watched your face closely, terrified of what he’d see. Rejection. Fear. Disgust. But you just stared at him, wide eyed, stunned, curious. "…Say something,” he whispered. “Please.” You blinked, pulling yourself out of the whirlwind in your head. “You’re serious?” Miles nodded slowly. “Y/N, I’ve never been more serious in my life. Only you and Uncle Aaron know. That’s it. No one else.” He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He held you tighter as he bit down on his bottom lip. It was a nervous habit he couldn’t break, especially not now. Not when he was this exposed. “If you don’t believe me,” he added quickly, “I can show you the suit. I have it here, hidden.” You were silent again, your brain racing as everything finally started to click. All the excuses, the bruises, the lies.

“Y/N… please,” Miles said again, his voice cracking slightly. “You’re freaking me out. Say something. Anything.” You finally looked up at him, your voice quiet. “Miles… I’m just… putting all the puzzle pieces together.” His shoulders tensed. Panic flashed in his eyes. His voice dipped lower, almost too quiet to hear. “Do you hate me now?” “God, Miles—no. No, I don’t hate you,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I just… I don’t understand why you didn’t told me sooner.” Your voice was soft, trying to soothe him. Reassure him. Miles exhaled, his shoulders relaxing just a little. “I thought you’d be disappointed at me. Or worse, hate me,” he admitted quietly. “And it’s risky for you to even know, if anyone ever finds out you know who I am…” He trailed off, pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly like he was scared you’d slip away at any second. "I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. “I didn’t want to lie, I just… didn’t know how to tell you.” You could feel how tense he was, how vulnerable and desperate. Your heart broke for him, but you also understood. You wrapped your arms around him and held him close. "Hey, hey… Miles, it’s okay,” you murmured softly. “I still love you. That hasn’t changed.” Wanting to show him you meant it, you reached up, cupped his face gently in your hands, and kissed him. Slow. Sure. Like you weren’t scared of any part of him. The kiss caught him off guard for a second, but then he melted into it—his hand coming up to rest on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I love you too, baby,” he said against your lips. When he pulled away, he looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. “You don’t… you don’t see me as dangerous?” he asked, hesitation flickering in his eyes. You shook your head immediately, firm. “No, baby. Never.” You leaned in and kissed his cheek. He flushed just a little but couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto his face. Then he wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you tight into his chest, resting his head in the crook of your neck. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just stayed like that, in the comfort of each other’s arms, breathing in sync. Miles’s hand moved slowly up and down your back, grounding himself with your warmth. Then, his voice broke the silence.“I’m always gonna protect you,” he murmured. “You know that, right?” You smiled against his shoulder. “I know.”

After a quiet moment, curiosity got the best of you. Your voice was playful but cautious. “So… now that you’ve told me the truth,” you said, glancing down at the bandages on his body, “can I ask… who did this to you?” Miles sighed, then smirked faintly. “Some dumbass criminals,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Let’s just say they’re not conscious anymore, mami.” You couldn’t help but laugh, and he chuckled with you, the tension finally lifting between you. He leaned back onto the bed, and you moved with him, lying gently on top of him. He wrapped his arms around you like you were something sacred, something he could never risk losing. His chin rested lightly on top of your head, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart under your cheek.

He held you like something fragile and irreplaceable, his hand sliding under the hem of your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin against his palm. His chin rested lightly on top of your head, and for a while, the only sound was the rhythm of his heartbeat, steady beneath your ear. “You’re really not mad?” he asked, voice low. You lifted your head just enough to look at him, brushing your fingers along his jaw. “A bit.” Miles chuckled a bit, but his expression still a bit apologetic.

“But,” you added, your voice soft but certain. “You can be the Prowler, you can carry the whole damn city on your back but you’ll always be my Miles first.” He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned up, kissing you like he finally understood you weren’t going anywhere. It was slow and deep something that felt like a promise in itself. And when he pulled away, his voice cracked just a little.

“You have no idea what that means to me.”He smiled against your lips.

And just like that, the storm outside his world quieted. Because no matter how loud life got, no matter how brutal his nights became—he had this.

He had you.

And that was enough to keep going.

[cheezthatboiii]

I forgot to post this here. Some ASTV comic I did a while ago!!!