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#42 days clean
cat5hurricane · 2 years
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OK RELATABLE last time I drank I woke up in ambulance they had found me passed out on a sidewalk… substituting alcohol is not recovery I know that nowwww. Anyways 42 days clean 💙
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kenshiv · 6 months
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imagine thinking any dynamic on this british alien show could beat this (it can't and it won't)
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nervocat · 10 days
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Got bored hunting might be getting back into the orv obsession HAHA
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A sketch of HarborClan Camp w/ my notes on it about the size of things for scale (there are 5 cats added for scale if you wanna find them)
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proxycrit · 3 months
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If this man has to haunt me, he has has to haunt you.
Meet Sweaty. He’s a 42 year old absol and lives with his human mom in Castelia, Unova.
Some Absol headcanons:
I do think part of why Absols have such a bad rep among people is partially due to folklore of them appearing before and after horrific disasters, but also because they have such a human face. Imagine seeing this mf in the dark woods watching you. Something that looks human, but is not. Something that sounds human, but is NOT. Follow this by a horrific landslide.
Do you see the problem. Humans remember human faces. Predators sometimes mimic their prey. Absols have the truly unfortunate evolutionary quirk of falling into both categories.
So yes, there was a huge stigma against absols which led to a pretty severe population decline.
In modern day (much like wolves), Absols have become media darlings, in large thanks to a the help of pokemon rangers who utilize Absol’s ability to sense weather as an indicator when to evacuate. They are a very long lived species and need lots of intense exercise, often declaring huge swaths of land as their personal territories. Absols also tend to get very anxious when they feel they do not have enough space, so keeping them with other pokemon’s usually a no no.
Sweaty’s mom used to be a pokemon ranger and found Sweaty stuck in a refrigerator. Nowadays, she lets him free roam—much to the chagrin of every other person in the area. Sweaty in turn makes himself a nuisance to the local icecream store, begging for treats.
(The kids love him. He comes home with ink and paint stained everywhere and it’s a nightmare to clean.)
Hate my human faced monstrosities? Thank @tjs-stuffs for this. Ciao!
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alonzoarts · 12 days
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DOOOONE!! Spamton's glitches are real btw, I data moshed his clean animation and used the results for some effects. I made the audio before he turned 46, so it's a little outdated.
Time stats and the closeup stills are under the cut!
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Animation time: 07:42 Color and Line: 09:42 Painting: 03:47 Compositing and glitching up Spamton's animation: 03:11 Total Time: 24 hrs 21 min spread over 7 days
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confessedlyfannish · 8 months
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DP x DC Prompt #4
When they all convene at the cave, Alfred is silently wrapping Dick's knuckles. Damian hovers beside him. Tim and Barbara are hunched over the batcomputer, not even sparing Bruce a glance as he strides over.
"Report," Batman grunts. No one reacts.
"Report!"
"Hood pushed his panic button at 2:34 AM," Barbara says shortly, straightening.
The button had been a joke, mostly because Jason would never use it and everyone knew it.
"I patched into his comm at 2:35. This is what I heard initially." At her nod, Tim presses play. What occurs next is a garble. There is the sound of high winds, as if Hood is rushing through the air, even though the comms are designed to filter out any ambiance otherwise the Bats would never hear each other. Interspersed is a mixture of static punctuated by high, inhuman screeches of metal and something else unknown.
"This goes on," Barbara says after thirty long seconds, switching it off. "Red Hood failed to respond to any attempts at contact. I dispatched Nightwing to Hood's location at 2:36 AM. He was approximately two miles away." She pulls up a GPS map of their respective locations, their beacons blinking.
"At 2:41 AM, Red Hood's comm goes off, as does his GPS," Barbara says, swallowing softly as the red beacon indicating Jason disappears. "Nightwing arrives at 2:42 AM."
Dick doesn't say anything, head hanging low as he grips the metal table he sits on. Damian glances between the two of them, expression flat but fists clenched.
"Nightwing, report."
"..."
"Scene was empty, B," Tim speaks up. "No trace of Hood, no sign of a struggle. No cameras in the alley. We've been checking the ones nearby but so far there's no sign of anyone but Hood heading in that direction...and no one, Hood included, caught in the cams heading out, not within that time frame."
"So he's still in the area," Batman concludes. "The local buildings?"
"All the entrances have cameras, which showed no evidence of Hood nor any evidence of being tampered with," Barbara says. "Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin canvased within a half mile radius to check for any signs of disturbances in any of the windows or rooftops but found no evidence to support Hood being taken. A scan confirmed several serial offenders, but when interviewed and searched there was no sign of Hood. Several in the area reported an unusual quiet for Crime Alley."
Batman forces the next question out. "Did you check the dumpsters?"
"Yes," Nightwing grits out. "Empty."
Barbara clears her throat. "I have attempted to reconnect to Jason's GPS and comm as well as restart both remotely but there's no signal at all. The thing is, when there's a disruption like that it usually leaves some sort of sign" she pulls up the audio waves, pointing at the end where the spikes conform into a straight line that makes everyone deeply uncomfortable. Upon playing, the noise from before plays before going abruptly silent. "But there is no large spike, this is clean. It just ends. His GPS is much the same. It's not off, it's just gone."
"I know you don't like to hypothesize this early on, B, but we think this involves a meta," Tim says, rewinding the audio. "We've been running the audio from Jason's comm through different filters, playing with the levels and isolating what we can and, well, take a listen--"
The screeching drops to a sort of muffle and in the background, distantly, they can hear bits of Jason's voice.
"No, I'm not---"
"--don't need--"
"get AWAY from--"
a particularly desperate yell that makes Tim flinch, "I am NOT--!"
and almost a whimper that makes Batman's blood run cold, "please..."
And then, unfairly clear even through the faint garble, Jason says "I don't have a choice, do I."
And a minute later, quietly: "Ok."
The audio cuts off.
The defeat in Jason's last words is palpable, and fundamentally wrong. Jason has never sounded defeated a day in his life, and no one knows how to process Red Hood all but giving his hands over for the cuffs. Nightwing pushes himself off the table.
"I'm going back out there," he growls. No one tries to stop him as he stalks out the cave, not even Alfred.
"I will accompany Nightwing, make sure he does not punch any more walls." Damian says, nodding tightly.
"B?" Barbara asks.
"Keep working on it. See if you can identify what could be making those noises if Hood was standing still in an alley," Batman says, walking towards the zeta tube. "I'm going to make a few calls."
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roosterforme · 5 months
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Sundays Are for the Boys | Hangman x Reader
Summary: Football Sundays are a sacred tradition amongst Jake and his friends, and he's quick to make sure you know that. But when the boys discover your favorite drink in the refrigerator, Jake makes an exception to his rule.
Warnings: Fluff, language, a tiny bit of smut, 18+
Length: 2600 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Written for Pick Your Poison! Banner by @thedroneranger
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Dating Jake came with one firm rule: Sundays were for watching football with the guys. 
"I mean it," he'd told you months ago when you first started dating him. "I host every week. They come over around ten when the games start, and they don't leave until after the last game ends. No wives. No girlfriends. Just a cooler filled with cheap beer. Sundays are for the boys."
At the time, you thought it was cute that he wanted to spend the day with his friends. "That's adorable," you told him, kissing his cheek. But by the time football season arrived, Jake was already in his Dallas Cowboys jersey, shaking you awake on Sunday morning at nine.
"It's almost game time, Baby. The guys will be here soon."
You looked up at him from his bed with a little smirk. "You're really into this, huh?" 
He kissed your forehead and started to pull you to your feet as you laughed. "It's a thing. I told you this months ago." He patted your bare butt as you looked around for your clothes from the night before. "It's week one, and the Cowboys play the Eagles in the early game. I love putting Payback in a bad mood."
You kissed him before you slipped your underwear on. "I know you do."
He was antsy, and you knew he wanted you to leave, but you also knew he didn't want to say it as he kissed you over and over again. "Baby, you gotta go," he finally whispered as you smiled against his lips. 
"I know, I know," you replied, still amused as you finished getting dressed and packed up your stuff. "Go Cowboys."
Each week, your relationship progressed, but this little routine stayed the same. Jake would inevitably wake you up by nine if you weren't already up. He would be wearing one of his many Dallas Cowboys jerseys. He would walk you out to your car and tell you how much he loved you before you left him to entertain his friends. 
But one Sunday, you woke him up with a blowjob on his birthday. And you took your time with it. Did you have a bit of an ulterior motive? Sure. But it didn't detract from the fact that you wanted him to enjoy himself, and you certainly made sure he did. He was coming hard at exactly 9:42 with his hand on the back of your head and his cock tapping your throat. 
"Oh, fuck!" he groaned. "Fuck!" 
You licked him clean and grinned up at him before kissing his hip and whispering, "I love you, birthday boy." Then you climbed out of bed, kissed his lips and started to get dressed. "It's almost ten. I'll head out."
You saw him waver a bit before he nodded. Then his doorbell rang, and you just knew it would be the guys starting to arrive. He kissed you deeply one more time before pulling on his blue and gray jersey and some gym shorts. "Take your time getting dressed. I'll go let them in."
"Sounds good," you replied. And twenty minutes later, after you'd fixed your hair and put on the tiniest bit of makeup, you waltzed out into the living room where there were now six guys spread out on Jake's sectional couch with an open cooler of beer on ice in the middle of the floor and bags of chips seemingly everywhere. 
It was kind of fascinating, getting to catch a glimpse of this carefully curated world that he worked so hard to keep private. Your plan was to quietly sneak out the front door, but you had to stifle your laughter as you heard Bradley tell your boyfriend, "Your Cowboys look like a bunch of fucking pussies this week."
"You're one to talk, dipshit," Jake replied without missing a beat. "The Steelers are 2 and 4." He went back to sipping his beer.
"Both of you are delusional," Coyote told them as he cracked open a can and shoved a fistful of chips into his mouth. 
You skirted around the outside of the room as you eyed them in their various colorful jerseys while you thought they were completely focused on the game. Then you heard Fanboy call your name. "You're leaving?" he asked, looking at you as he ate some beef jerky.
"Yeah," you said with a little laugh as Jake got up to peck you on the cheek. "You know, Sundays are for the boys and all that."
Just then, the Cowboys scored a touchdown, and Jake hoisted you up in the air as you screeched in surprise. Half of the guys groaned, and half of them cheered, but your boyfriend held you tight as he tossed aside his empty beer can and said, "You can't leave until they kick the extra point." So you just stayed there, your feet not even touching the ground as Jake held his breath, and then the Cowboys went up by one more point. Then Jake walked you to your car, nipping at your neck the entire way.
"Don't you have to get back inside?" you whispered as he filthy kissed you, pressing you against the driver's side door. 
"I will," he grunted. "Feel like you're my lucky charm right now."
He kissed away all your lip gloss and messed up your makeup, but when you finally drove away, you had a smile on your face.
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"What are these things?" Reuben called from the kitchen. Jake turned to see what he was holding up.
"High Noons," he replied before focusing back on the game. "My girl's obsessed with them. It's like a fancy hard seltzer."
"Can I try one?"
"Yeah," Jake told him, knowing he'd just replace them later for you. 
Javy was currently sitting on the floor, practically in tears as the Saints gave up another touchdown to the Dolphins. Mickey's loud cheering had everyone else laughing. "Dude, you'll lose your voice again like last week," Bradley told him as he accidentally spilled potato chips all over the floor before picking them up and eating them anyway. 
"It'll be worth it if the Saints lose!" Mickey cheered. 
"Hey, what's that?" Bradley asked Reuben as he chugged the High Noon can and belched. "Some sort of girly shit?"
"Yeah, it's fucking good."
A minute later, everyone was drinking them, including Jake. "This is delicious," Bob muttered.
"For real," Reuben agreed. "Your girl has good taste."
Bradley snorted as he opened another can. "Not in guys." He and Reuben started cracking up at Jake's expense while he rolled his eyes. 
Then Javy was on his hands and knees crawling toward the TV and shouting, "Get him! Get him! That's a fucking sack! Fuck you, Fanboy! Fuck you, dude!"
The room was in chaos as Javy ground the potato chip crumbs into the carpet. When Jake's phone vibrated, he saw it was a text from you and realized he kind of wished you were here right now.
I miss you. Are you having fun with the boys?
He smiled as he checked the time. The Cowboys game would be starting in less than an hour, and they always seemed to play better whenever you were in the room for those fleeting few minutes before you left him to his Sunday tradition. He tapped his fingers on his thigh and contemplated texting you back. 
"Hey, Jake, are there any more of these things?" Bob asked, holding up his empty High Noon can. It was a testament to how good they tasted that Bob was even drinking one in the first place. He absolutely hated beer.
"I don't think so," Jake muttered, almost to himself as he read your text again. "Let me check." He started his response to you and then finished it after he looked in his nearly empty fridge.
I miss you too, Baby. Where did you get those High Noons? The boys drank them all, and they loved them. I'm going to need to stock up.
When he looked up from his phone, Javy was on his back, kicking his feet in the air, because the Dolphins had scored another touchdown. "No!"
"Hey, Hangman, you're out of chips," Bradley complained, shaking the empty bag into his open mouth before frowning. 
Now Mickey was dancing around Javy on the floor as the final score of the game flashed across the bottom of the screen. His Dolphins had beat Javy's Saints, and Reuben was already changing the channel for the next game that was about to start. But you had texted back again.
Why is that so adorable? I'm just about on my way home from lunch with the girls. Want me to stop and get another case or two? Maybe some snacks? I can drop them off.
Jake grinned; even the idea of you stopping by for a few seconds made him smile. He texted you back letting you know that he loved that idea, and then he stepped over the chaos on his floor and dropped down next to Reuben. Just as the intro to the Cowboys and Steelers was starting up, Jake said, "My girl's stopping by with more of those drinks and some snacks, so please behave while she's here."
"We will," they all replied in unison, though he highly doubted that would actually be the case. 
Then the game started, and they were all distracted, because it was Jake's team against Bradley's team. "Your precious Cowgirls are going down," Bradley muttered, practically licking the inside of the chip bag.
Jake realized he was hungry too as he flipped him off, and he could hear Reuben's stomach growling. The Cowboys were looking terrible in the first quarter, and now Bradley was sitting on the edge of his seat as the Steelers were poised to score a touchdown.
But then, just when you walked in carrying some fresh High Noons and a platter of hot wings, the Steelers threw an interception, and the Cowboys ran it back all the way for a touchdown. "Fuck yes!" Jake shouted, practically ripping the food and drinks out of your hands to get to you. "Come here, Baby. Come sit on my lap."
"Seriously?" you asked, clearly surprised as Jake pulled you along with him while the other guys tore into the seltzers and chicken wings like they were wild animals. Well, everyone except for Bradley who was on his knees on the floor, staring at the TV in shock.
"Thank you for the food and the High Noons," Jake drawled, grinning against your neck as he held you close. "You're the best." 
"You're welcome," you replied, really getting into the game now. "Cowboys are already up?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Bradley groaned. And it just kept getting better from there. Jake got to have you snuggled up on the couch with him while he ate wings and drank seltzers all afternoon. 
When you tried to leave at halftime, the guys whined for you to stay, and Jake pulled you closer to him. "Baby, no. The Cowboys have done nothing but get touchdown after touchdown since you got here. I need you to stay."
You laughed and opened a High Noon for yourself with an amused look on your face. "Alright, Jake. Whatever you need."
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When you woke up on Sunday with Jake kissing your neck and whispering, "Time to get up," you groaned. You were still exhausted from working all week, but you stretched and slowly got out of bed. "Where are you going?" he asked, reaching for you as you stood and looked at him.
"Home?"
He shook his head like he couldn't be more confused. "Why? Baby, the Cowboys play at ten. The boys will be here soon."
"Yeah...." you replied, reaching for your clothes. "That's why I'm leaving. Sundays are for the boys."
Now he was honest to god pouting. "But, I don't want you to leave. I love watching the games with you, and the guys keep my place cleaner when you're here. They actually belch less too. Really, overall, they are much less insufferable. And besides..." he whispered, grabbing your hand and pulling you back into bed. "I think you're my lucky charm."
"Really?" you asked as he pinned your hands above your head on the pillow. 
"Mmhmm," he hummed as he kissed you. "You make my team do better, and you make me happy. Stay."
You were melting at his touch. "Well, how could I say no?"
The following week, Jake was opening a seltzer for you, and when you looked around, all of the guys were drinking them. Mickey tapped his can to yours. "These are delicious. I feel so sophisticated. You're a genius."
The week after that, Javy ordered pizza only after discreetly asking what your favorite topping was. "The rest of them would eat cardboard with red sauce on top of it, but I want to make sure you get the kind you like."
The week after that, Reuben and Bob both jumped up to get you a new can when yours was empty, and Bradley begrudgingly said, "I still like you even though Jake fucking ruined you by turning you into a Cowboys fan."
You started staying later and later, and you noticed that Jake filled the cooler with fewer beers and more seltzers each week. And on the last Sunday of the regular season, the guys showed up with a sad looking, half crumpled up gift bag and handed it to you as you rearranged the pretty charcuterie board you'd been working on for them. 
"What's this?" you asked, peeking into the bag at some pink fabric.
"It's for you," Javy said. "You're one of the guys now." 
Jake grinned at you from the open refrigerator where he handed out High Noon cans to everyone. "You knew about this?" you asked him as you reached into the bag and pulled out a pink Dallas Cowboys jersey with your own name on the back. 
"Of course I knew about it, Baby. I had to tell them your size."
"Thank you," you whispered as you looked at it, tears filling your eyes and blurring your vision. "I love it." When you looked up at them, they raised their seltzer cans in a toast to you, and you ran to Jake's bedroom to get changed.
You had your own jersey color now amongst the rainbow of teams everyone rooted for, and Jake kept you close as the Cowboys played. The cooler of slowly melting ice offered up High Noons to you and the boys, and by the time it was getting dark outside, you were standing next to the TV with your hands in the air. 
"Ready?" you asked them a little loudly as you giggled, but you weren't the only one who was tipsy and silly. "Here we go!" You led them in a hideous, off-key rendition of I've been waiting all day for Sunday night. After weeks of watching football, everyone had all of the ridiculous lyrics memorized, and it ended in laughter as you curled up next to Jake on the couch.
"I love Sundays," he said, his arm slung around your shoulders. "And I love you, Baby."
You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Sundays are for seltzer drinkers."
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You slowly infiltrated, and now Sundays are yours. Thanks @thedroneranger for making pretty mood boards like this one and letting us write about them. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
Don't forget to read the second part! This Sunday Is for My Girl!
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Spider-verse with a S/O that gets hurt often? Idk it this should be put as clumsy but really up to you. Thanks!
(Hello! Sure I can do here ya go!)
Taglist
Reader Who Gets Hurt a Lot
Miles Morales
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Obviously he's worried about you
He's telling you over and over again to be careful
Most likely it is because you're clumsy
So he's watching you out of the corner of his eye almost everyday
See you trip over something?
He may shoot a web at you and pull you back up so you don't fall
But the times he doesn't get you and you do get hurt, he sighs and walks over to help you
He's always glad to help patch you up though
Just don't do anything dramatic like go up a tall building
He may actually have a heart attack
A stressed mother vibes
Earth 42!Miles Morales
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He's scolding you more than the others
It's because he loves you and he's worried you may actually get hurt really bad one day
He doesn't want it to get to the point of you needing like, really bad medical attention
You've been to the hospital a few times due to like a broken finger or something similar
He was there those times when they happened and he can feel his heart drop
He may be a little like, annoyed, but more at your clumsiness but he's not blaming you
Sorta like
"Just be more careful, ma. You're gonna get hurt even worse if this keeps happening."
He's just worried and wants to make sure you're alright
Stop scaring him, man!
Gwen Stacy
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Gwen may laugh under her breath
It's a reflex and she will help you though
Obviously, she's worried but she's more chill about it
Will help you up and bring you to help clean and bandage up your shit
Unless you are one to harm yourself to the point you need medical
Then she flips out and panics
She's worried, she loves you and wants you in good health
She sometimes can't focus on her health due to being Spider-Woman
So she does her absolute best to make sure you're okay
Will poke fun at you
Tease you and shit but it's from a good place
Will pat your newly acquired injury, kiss your cheek and be on y'all's way
Hobie Brown
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He's worried but he hides it
He teases you about your clumsiness, especially if you get hurt because you're tripping and falling down all the time
"Falling for me now, are you?"
Sorta shit like that as he helps clean and bandage your wound
He actually likes helping take care of you
It gives him the feeling of something normal in your guys' lives
Even if it's because you accidentally hurt yourself
He's watching you every few glances and normally saves you from getting hurt
Has either w hand on your waist, holding your hand and it's to keep you up
Will pick you up when you fall
He's more calm, hides his worry and teases you a bit
It's from love though
Pavitr Prabhakar
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You're both always getting hurt
You both spend so much time patching each other up
Someone when he tries to help you get up or help you when you get hurt, he gets the same exact injury
You guys match wounds and hospital trips a lot
It's something that now bonds you guys together
So much bandaids, so much disinfectant and so much time spent patching each other up
But he loves those moments oddly also
Especially if he has like scraps on his face and your holding his face and patching him up
He gets to do the same for you and you guys just love it
Obviously he's nervous about you getting seriously injured
But he's usually around to stop it
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mahmoud0qassas · 6 days
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Allah is the Provider and He is the one who blesses the provision, and Allah is more generous than all
And you are absolutely certain that what you give to God, He will multiply it for you many times over, so do not despair, for you are working and donating for yourself and the hereafter.
Yes, we need you because we are a large family. Yes, the amount is large, but it did not arouse your feelings, and my daughter is asking for your help
Don't raise your feelings while my family lives with humiliation
It did not arouse your feelings, and my friend asks you to help us in order for us to travel as soon as possible to treat my brother in a clean hospital
My brothers and sisters in Islam
Every day I beg you to stand with us, and the abundance of hope made me ashamed of myself, and this particular displacement, in which we moved from Rafah to the city of Zawaida. We faced the cruelty of humiliation and humiliation from the camps, and they allowed my family of 42 individuals to set up only two tents out of four.
This is a final appeal to you.. My family needs you.. My disabled brother needs you.. And my daughter dreams of living in safety.. Do not break our thoughts.. And the size of your donation will determine our path.. And the greater your donation, Allah will honor you in this world and the afterlife, for Allah is more generous than all.
If you want to enter Paradise, look at our condition, and be sure that Allah will admit you to His Paradise, and whenever you are good, Allah will give you according to your goodness.
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luvjunie · 11 months
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Hey sweetie, I’ve been a real big fan. Can you write some HCS or a fic about the both Miles being twins?
a/n: ABSOLUTELY 10000% YES. i had way too much fun with this oml. and omg thank you you’re so sweet! 😭 btw, let’s just pretend that in this au they don’t have the same name since they’re ‘twins’ lmao
— headcanons. miles and miles as twins
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Twins? Yes. Polar opposites? Definitely.
They both have a completely different sense of style, but one thing they have in common is that they both love Jordan’s. However I feel like miles!42 is a full blown sneakerhead. Has the better collection and often finds miles!1610 wearing his shoes, because somehow 42 always manages to win the snkrs raffles.
“Are those my brand new fuckin’ 4s?” “Uh… no?” “Take my shit off before I tweak out.”
42 keeps his side of the room squeaky clean, gets upset if there’s even a sock that does not belong to him on his side
Absolutely hates the song Sunflower. Cannot stand it, makes him wanna rip his hair out. The minute it came out 1610 played it into the dirt and 42 swears he can still hear it in his dreams till this day
1610 is the more affectionate one (outwardly) while 42 likes to pretend he’s completely devoid of that as if he doesn’t love his brother with everything in him.
“You got exactly three seconds to get off me.” “Just hug me back, damn!”
They’re the kind of brothers to open soundcloud, turn on a random trap beat and see who can go the longest freestyling. They do that thing where guys bring their fist to their mouths and squeal and shove each other out of excitement when they get a good flow going back and forth
42 is definitely the athletic type, plays football and soccer. 1610 is more in tune with his artistic side. Will play sports for fun but doesn’t care for them like that
42 is introverted as hell, doesn’t really like talking to people. 1610 is more of a social butterfly
They’ve never once liked the same girl. Ever. Their taste is drastically different
“Bro, you like a white girl?” “…Yes? What does her race have to do with anything?” “See me personally—“. “Literally nobody fucking asked.”
Used to help each other break out of their cribs when they were babies. Either that or Jeff and Rio would wake up to find that 42 had climbed into 1610’s crib after they’d been put down and slept with him instead. it was impossible to keep them apart from each other, so eventually they just broke down the second crib and let them use the one.
You can tell who is who in their baby pictures. You guessed it, 42 was the oddly solemn one who always wanted to play by himself. They worried about him for a bit. They also had to tickle him as an attempt to get him to smile in pictures, and just their luck, he’s never been ticklish
When they were eight years old, 1610 accidentally broke the wolverine action figure 42 never went anywhere without, and 42 cried about it for three days straight
They definitely ask for each other’s opinions on their outfits
“Do you think this shirt goes with these pants?” “The entire outfit is black… how would it not go together?”
They both obviously love their mother but 42 is the biggest mama’s boy. Always in the kitchen helping her cook, will watch her telenovelas with her and actually keep up with the plot. He’ll willingly follow her to the grocery store or accompany her on her ridiculously long Ross/Tjmaxx sprees because he likes hanging out with her
They terrorize the fuck outta their dad and have been doing so since they entered this world because they think it’s funny. Stupid shit like dying his boxers pink, or looking up a cracked tv screen video on youtube just to watch him nearly have a heart attack thinking they broke it. They used to twin-swap when they were younger to get out of certain things, but it’s 100% impossible to pull off now. They’re way too different, physically and mentally
Uncle Aaron took 42 to get his ears pierced when he was thirteen, something 1610 would never do. Rio basically had an aneurysm when he came home with them in and Jeff was not pleased but Aaron took the blame for it, said it was his idea. 42 made up some bullshit lie about how if he takes them out before they heal completely they’ll get infected. Still has them in till this day
42 is exactly fourteen minutes older and refuses to let 1610 hear the end of it, but 1610 is taller by an inch and weighs a little more.
“I don’t know why you’re talking shit like I’m not older than you. Pipe down lil’ bro.” “Sorry, is someone talking to me right now? Cause I sure as hell can’t see ‘em.” “Nigga it’s ONE INCH”
They’re definitely scrapping over that, and both get smacked upside their heads by Mama Rio for fighting with each other
42 needs the tv and the fan on, SIMULTANEOUSLY when he sleeps or he’ll be up the entire night. 1610 can’t stand it
1610 will try and turn the fan off after his brother’s been asleep for probably two hours, thinking he’s in the clear until he hears—
“Do you value your life? Turn my damn fan back on.”
Deep down 42 is a big ass softie and loves spending time with 1610, he has no idea what he’d do without him. He’s just not the best at expressing it. 1610 teases him about it simply because he enjoys aggravating his other half
“You still got plans with Ganke tonight?” “Nah, his mom’s dragging him to some baby shower.” “Oh, cool, cool… So what movie are we watching?” “Huh?” “Huh—Headass. What movie are we watching tonight?” “Sorry, I’m not understanding. Are you—asking to spend time… with me?” “Damn, I need to say it in Spanish? Matter fact, you probably won’t understand that either. No sabo ass.”
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endlessthxxghts · 8 months
Text
What You Need
no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈6.3k
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Summary: You come home from a horribly stressful day at University to everything in your family home a complete mess only for you to take care of. Joel helps you and gives you exactly what you need.
Warnings: SUUUPER self indulgent (sorry guys - it makes for a good plot tho, so i’m not all that sorry <3). no use of “y/n”, age gap (22/42), LATINO JOEL MILLER (idc what anyone says, he needs a warning), established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader, pet names (darlin’, sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, etc.), reader “takes care of everyone but who takes care of her” plot, more porn than plot lol, [SMUT 18+ MDNI] daddy kink, sir kink, heavy on the D/s dynamic (reader falls into subspace), cockwarming, unprotected piv (don’t be like these 2 idiots), breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, finger fucking, finger sucking (briefly), choking, hair pulling, brief thoughts about anal, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickeys/marking kink, squirting!, toy use, fluffy ending… i think that’s it?? (dear lord pls forgive me, for i have sinned)  if i missed anything, lmk pls!
Quick lil author’s note (see bottom for extended a/n): In all honesty, I wanna dedicate this (nasty) little one shot to @javierpena-inatacvest because if it wasn’t for our interactions as of late plus reading your “It’s Never Too Late” fic, I never would’ve said fuck it and just start writing with the intention of potentially showing it to the world. Thank you for inspiring me. You’re amazing & I literally love u so so much. You deserve phenomenal head all the love in the world for everything you do <3.
MAIN MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION
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It was a long day at university today, as per usual, but something about today completely drained you. 
You went to bed past midnight last night because you were busy finishing up a paper, only to get up at 7am the next morning to spend the next 13 hours juggling between classes, assignments, and studying in your “free” time. By the time you were ready to head back home, you were on your very last thread, begging to snap. You also completely spaced on nourishing your body today, the only thing running through it being water and coffee — lots of coffee. 
That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that the minute you entered your family home, the entire house was an absolute mess, your pets weren’t given their food yet, and no dinner was made. And just like every other day since you grew into an acceptable height to reach the kitchen stove, you took care of it. All of it. 
You were so grateful to your family for allowing you to stay at home during your undergraduate years. It makes your in-state tuition even cheaper, and you get the comfort of your own bed. You knew not many people could rely on their parents and family like this, so you don’t want to sound selfish when you think about how you really wish you had your own place right about now. 
It’s been an hour and a half since you've been home, and you’re barely finishing up getting the food for your dogs when your phone dings in your back pocket. 
Didn’t text me when you got home, baby. Everything okay?
It was from Joel. The neighbor directly across from you, and a quickly growing family friend of yours. Your heart both saddens at the fact that you forgot your unspoken ritual, but it swells at the way he can read you. 
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It all began at a small family party last year. You were 21 at the time, and for some reason you could not take your eyes off of your neighbor — who was 20 years your senior. It was always just shared glances or you bringing baked goods from your stress-baking endeavors, but at that party, there was a good period of time where your entire family went outside to the bonfire in the backyard to drink until their hearts gave out, leaving you with the dishes and a trashed house to clean. Joel noticed this, how much they relied on you. Whether it was coming over for a beer with your brothers or your father, or to fix an appliance for your older sister, they always walked all over you — when you did absolutely everything for them. So, he took matters into his own hands and went inside to help you clean up. 
You insisted he didn’t need to, but you knew he wouldn’t let up. So, there, you two worked, harmoniously, straightening up your home in half the time it would normally take you by yourself. The second you completed the last task, you reached for the remote and plopped yourself on the couch, half expecting Joel to go back outside with your family. Except, he plopped himself on the couch right next to you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, “What are we watchin’, darlin’?” 
“You know you could’ve stayed outside with everyone else, Miller,” you say as you turn your body to him with an eyebrow quirked up. He matches your expression, “Well, where’s the fun in that?” 
You break into a breathy little giggle, satisfied with his comeback, and you turn on the TV. With your family completely occupied outside, it was easy for either of you to make a move. And although Joel had been planning to for the last few months before this party, you took matters into your own hands and lifted his arm closest to you, tucked yourself into his side and pulled his arm back around your body. He looked down at you, smirking at your boldness while your eyes remained fixed on the movie before you. 
The next few hours of the night were filled with secret caresses and stolen kisses, and you have never felt more loved and appreciated in your life. From then on, you’ve been absolutely smitten with him, and he with you. 
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Instead of replying, you dial him instead. Not even a third ring goes by before he answers, “Baby.” 
“Oh my god, hi, baby, I’m so sorry. I completely spaced. The minute I got home, the house was a mess, the dogs weren’t fed yet, dinner wasn’t even cooked, and I-”
“Mi amor,” he says with a deep breath, implicitly telling you to take one, “it’s okay, baby. I don’t wanna hear sorry from you. I’m sorry everythin’ is a mess, baby. Can I help? Need me to come over?”
Your rapid heart rate immediately starts to slow at how calming, ready and willing he is to give you anything you need. Your family would go absolutely insane if Joel just showed up right now with the sole intention of helping you take care of the home and yourself, but you don’t mention that. “No, baby, I promise I’m okay. I just need to relax. I need-” you pause for a moment to take another breath because you feel your body going panicky again. “I need…honestly, I just need you.” 
After the shitty day you’ve had today, having to take control of every single thing, honestly all you really want, and need, right now is for your control to be taken away. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to decide, and you don’t even want to figure out your dinner even though you haven’t eaten all day. 
He pauses for a moment, hearing the slight whine at your last statement. And just like that, Joel is at your rescue. “You need me, huh, babygirl?” 
“Mhm, please.” 
“Cross the street, darlin’, right now,” and he hangs up the phone. 
You bolt out of your seat, and sprint straight to the front door, quickly locking it. You think to say something on the Ring camera, letting your family know you’ll be back, but you know they won’t even think twice at your absence. You already cleaned the house and took care of the animals they begged for but don’t care for — why else would they look for you? 
Just in case they do check the cameras, however, you immediately veer to the left side of your driveway into the blind spots of your front door. 
Within seconds, you’re at his door about to knock, but he’s already opening the door, whispering a soft hi followed by your name, and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pulls you away for a second, assessing your face, assessing your needs. He sees your brows pulled together, eyes glossed over, and a pout beginning to form. You don’t need soft and comforting. You need stern, dominating control. You need nothing but pure bliss, and he’s going to give that to you. But first: 
“Safe words. Repeat em’.” 
“Red for hard stop, yellow if I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and green to keep going.” 
“That’s my girl,” he says and finally pulls you in for that rough, all-consuming kiss you’ve been craving. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and obviously he wins. His hands are roughly sliding down to the underside of your asscheeks, tightly pulling you into his hardening bulge. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, but pause for a moment because he never gave you permission to. He senses that, and pulls back for just a moment. “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me. Go ‘head, baby, touch me.” 
You immediately bring your arms back up to grab ahold of him but too riled up in how he’s making you feel, you don’t notice the huge grumble your empty tummy makes. He pulls both your wrists back from his neck and puts an insufferable amount of space between you two. 
He says your name, filled with both concern and slight anger. “When was the last time you ate?” 
Silence. 
He lets go of your wrist and grabs your chin between his pointer and thumb, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m not askin’ again, baby.”
“Y-yesterday night,” you stumble out. 
“I’m not givin’ you a heavy meal ‘cause that’ll just upset your stomach, but I am fixin’ you somethin’. Go upstairs, change into the clothes on the bed, come back down and position yourself on the ottoman, like I taught ya last week, hm?”
Too enamored by his roughly smooth voice, all you can muster up is a nod. His eyebrow barely shifts, but that’s all a warning you need. “Yes, sir.” 
Padding up into his room, already feeling your insides start to float, you reach the edge of his bed to see a pair of black cheeky boxers, and a thin, fitted black tee. You quickly strip off everything you arrived here in and slip on the garments he gave you. Wasting no time, you head back down in a bee line to the ottoman. 
Like I taught ya last week, hm?
His words echo in your mind as you begin to recall last week’s endeavors. 
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You were straddling his lap for a while now, slowly swallowing each other’s moans and making every part of each other’s body ingrained into your memories. Until suddenly he pulls back, eyes dead set with intention. “You trust me, baby?”
“Always, Joel,” you say back with as stern a voice as possible, confused as to why he’d ask such a thing. “Can I teach you somethin’, then, darlin’?”
You pull him into one more kiss before you breathily tell him yes and pull yourself off his lap to stand before him, fully at his disposal. 
He stands up, and without any verbal indications, he’s grabbing onto you and molding your body onto the ottoman in a position that begins to drift you off into subspace. You don’t know if it’s the fact that you're sitting on your knees with your legs tucked under you, or if it’s the slow drag of his hands caressing your inner thighs, pulling them farther apart from each other. Or maybe it’s the way he softly places your hands, palms up, atop of your thighs. Whatever the hell it is, you absolutely fucking love it. 
He feels you melting into every little touch he makes and he notes every little moment you slip further and further into your space. “Doin’ okay, my sweet girl?” he asks, voice dark and sweet. 
All you can pull out of yourself is a pathetic little whine and a head nod. 
“This is position number one. Remember it. We’ll learn more later, but this’ll do just fine for a while, baby.”
And with that, he kisses you ever so softly but with such a dominating, addictive energy that you feel yourself try to push up into him, and immediately he pulls away. 
“Sweet girl, Imma let it slide this time, but you do not move from this position unless given permission. Ya hear?”
You return to your original position and assure him how good you’ll be, “Won’t happen again, daddy, I promise.”
His jaw clenches at the honorific; that’s your number one tell that signifies you’ve completely submitted and fallen into subspace. He had originally planned on giving you what you asked for two days ago — “Please, Joel, I need you to fuck me, hard.” — but seeing you all docile and ready for him just makes him want to absolutely praise you in the most beautiful ways possible. 
So that’s what he did. For hours. An hour of bending you over the ottoman to eat your pussy like a man who had all the time in the world, an hour of fingering orgasm after orgasm out of you while his mouth switched between licking and marking your tits, and a few hours after that just slowly fucking you into his mattress, caressing and loving on every single part of your body he could reach. 
Let’s just say, your family didn’t see you for the rest of that day or the next, and you did not care one fucking bit. 
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You shuffle onto the ottoman, your form now perfected after secretly practicing each night to increase your endurance of staying in such a position for however long Joel needed you to. 
You wait for about five more minutes before he comes back with a platter of all of your favorite fruits — strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple — and sits on the cushioned seat right in front of you. He melts at how good you sit for him, immediately disregarding his original plan and wanting you as close to him as possible. 
“My good, beautiful girl,” he says softly, in a way that you’re not sure if it was even meant for you to hear, but you still melt nonetheless. “Come,” he says as he pats his lap while setting the plate off to the table beside him. 
You shoot up like a lightning bolt, too excited at the thought of being able to feel him again, but before you can climb up, he grabs your hips, stopping you for a second. He slides his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly slides them completely off of you, setting them neatly on the ottoman behind you. He slowly reaches for his belt, then slides it off, letting it fall somewhere on the ground. You stand completely still, patiently waiting for whatever he’s going to give you, although your pussy is proving anything but patient. 
He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and signals for you to come up. “Take me out, cariño.”
You climb up on his thighs, not fully straddling him to give yourself some room to tug his jeans and boxers down enough to pull him free. You pull him free with a small moan escaping your lips, wanting to dart your tongue out and lick his angry tip, but he didn’t give his permission for that. So, you begrudgingly let him go, and wait for what comes next. 
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he states nonchalantly as if his dick isn’t absolutely begging for you to reach out and grab it. “You’re gonna sit on my cock, keep me nice and warm. Without moving. Only until you’ve eaten all the fruit on this plate will I think about what’s gonna happen next. Got it?”
Your voice trembles, “Y-yes, sir.” 
He nods his head, while bringing his hand up to your mouth, signaling for you to let your drool fall. You scoot closer and lift your hips up while he pumps himself a few times to completely cover himself in your spit. With how much your cunt is dripping, you knew his lewd act was for his benefit and his only. 
The second his tip catches at your entrance, you can’t control the high-pitch whine that falls from your mouth, and he can’t stop himself from gripping your hips with a bruising force in an attempt to keep from mercilessly pounding up into you right here. 
“So f-fucking full,” you breath out as you sink lower and lower, to which he nearly growls with a strained, “So fucking tight.”
You finally bottom out, and you both take a moment to breathe and settle any impulsive thoughts of forgetting the purpose of tonight’s scene. You shift a little to adjust to settle your legs more comfortably at his sides, while he leans over to bring your plate of fruit closer. Both your actions together make you hiss in desperation.
“Color, baby?”
“Green, sir, green,” you promise him.
He smiles, genuine and bright, before his face goes dark and smug again. He picks up a piece of pineapple with his fingers. “Open.”
You lean in and take the sweet fruit from his fingers, making sure to lick any residual of the pineapple’s sweet juices. This goes on until you’ve finished every last piece he cut for you. Towards the last few pieces, your pussy was absolutely drenching his cock with your slick, both your thighs and his soaked. He could feel every pulse and every flutter, and no matter how patient he usually was, something in the air tonight was testing every ounce of his strength. 
He sets the plate aside and licks a mix of fruit juices and your spit clean off his fingers. You watch him, completely entranced by the way his tongue wraps around his thick fingers, and you can’t help but feel such an aching need to throw yourself at him. 
So you do. And to your surprise, he allows it. You pull both his arms to wrap around your middle and you push yourself into him for a searing kiss, whimpering for him to slip you his tongue. He indulges, and you immediately begin grinding your hips down onto his cock. He growls and wraps his arms tighter around you, adding more pressure into your grind, forcing you to break the kiss to regain your breath. “Fuck, baby. Such an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He rasps out. 
Your hips move faster at his words, trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but you can’t. He notices your effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby, hm?”
And with that — with the notion that he’ll take care of you with anything you need — you completely fall. “Y- yes,” you moan out, “Da- fuck- daddy’s got me.”
Ah, there she is. Daddy’s girl. His back straightens so he’s towering over you more. He grabs your jaw tightly while you continue to pleasure yourself on his dick, forcing you to hold his stare. “Oh, sweet girl, daddy’s always gonna give ya what ya need. Promise, baby. Now be the good little girl I know you are and cum for me.”
You can feel him meet every movement of your hips, coaxing your high out of you faster than you realize. The wet, squelch your pussy makes every time you suck him in is enough to make him release his load, but he won’t. Not until you’ve came more times than ever before, not until you’re left completely fucked dumb. 
He snakes his hand down to the front, reaching for your clit, using his thumb to make mind-numbing, calculated circles. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back, and he brings his other free hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. He ravishes your neck all over, sucking and biting all your weak spots, your pulse points, only to run his tongue over it in soothing motions, getting even more worked up at the marks that’ll form tomorrow. Then, he rips your shirt right in half, letting it fall to the ground. So much for makin’ you change, he thinks. He brings his mouth lower and lower, sucking one of your nipples in between his teeth, throwing you over the edge.
Your vision goes white, your entire body goes rigid, and your pussy uncontrollably flutters around his dick as he peppers your neck and chest with more kisses while you come back down. 
Your body is now soft and pliant, fully ready for whatever more Joel is going to give you. Your head is still high up in the clouds, and it will be for a while, but he always knows how to take care of you. You feel him slowly lift you off his dick and you hear him groan as he looks down. 
“God fucking damn, doll, look at you all over me. Such a fuckin’ mess.”
Your face heats up immediately, “I- I’m sorry, daddy, I-”
He grabs your jaw again and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He pulls away bringing your bottom lip with him until he lets go, letting it fall back into place, now wet with his spit. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize for that. You made daddy so proud, baby. So much so that you’re gonna do it again for me,” he says as he squeezes your ass cheek. 
You squeak out a gasp and a breathy please. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom with you still wrapped around him like a koala. 
Immediately he throws you on the bed, and before you’re able to scramble up towards the pillows, he’s already pushing you up by the thighs and kneeling between your spread legs. 
He releases one thigh for a quick second and holds his hand out, “Pillow, baby.” It takes your blissed mind one moment to register, but as soon as it does, you don’t waste a second, grabbing the pillow next to your head and eagerly handing it to him. He takes the pillow and taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to lift up. He secures the pillow under your hips then brings both his large hands back to the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up so you’re nearly folded in half, giving him complete access to your dripping heat. 
If there’s one thing about Joel Miller, it’s that he loves to make a fucking mess. You thought your first sensation would be one flat lick up your cunt, but instead you feel warmth. Wet and warm and everywhere, and finally you realize, he let his mouth fill with spit only to absolutely drench you with it. Once he’s satisfied with his mess only then does he dive into you like a man starved. Licking and pushing into your slit while the tip of his nose rubs against your clit has you climaxing in an instant, your back arching and your hips lifting as much as they can with the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you in place. 
He lets one hand slowly slide off your thigh and up your belly until he reaches one of your tits, switching between grabbing your entire breast and pinching your nipple. He continues to lick at you and circle your clit with his tongue until you’re a complete whining mess from the overstimulation. “Daddy, please,” you moan. 
He lifts his head, eyes as black as ever, “I’ve got you, princess, you can take it.” He reluctantly breaks away from your cunt and kisses his way up your body, taking his time with sloppy, open mouthed kisses near your hip bone and your sternum, knowing those areas drive you crazy the most. He makes sure to bite a little extra hard in some areas on his journey up, knowing you love to admire all the marks and bruises he makes on you. 
He sucks another bruise right underneath your jaw, making you push up into him more, while his hands continue to wander and grasp every part of your body that he can. Finally he reaches your mouth and gives you a sweet, long kiss to your mouth, distracting you enough that you don’t see him reach for the vibrator in the nightstand beside the bed. You feel him slide his hand back down your body, but you still don’t realize the vibrator’s presence until you feel the buzz directly on your clit. 
Out of pure reaction, your hand flies to the nape of his neck and tugs sharply, all while obscenities fall pathetically from your mouth, “Oh- f-fuck, daddy, yes! J-just like that, please, please don’t stop…” The quick-paced, blinding pleasure builds so fast it cuts off your dirty mouth and reduces you down to moans and gasps and whines of daddy, daddy, daddy. 
He slips two fingers into your pussy, sliding in with so much ease with how wet you are from a combination of your cream and his spit, all while he uses his other hand to push the vibrator into your bundle of nerves. 
You don’t know whether it has been one minute or one hour of this, but all you know is that you’ve got sweat lining your forehead, beading down your body, and you absolutely can’t take the buzzing pleasure with the constant come-here motion with his fingers anymore, you have to let go. Although this time, it feels different than the rest of the times Joel has made you cum. This time… this time it feels like- you have to pee? 
Immediately you start to panic and try to break away from his hold, unable to allow yourself to fucking pee all over him. “Daddy, wait! Please stop.. it- it feels different, like I.. I think I’m gonna pee..” you gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts while he continues his torture on your cunt. 
His eyes go wide and it immediately registers for him, “Fuck, baby, don’t worry about that, just let go. Come on, daddy’s got you. You trust me?” 
You hesitate for a moment, but still, you know the answer, “Y-yes, daddy.” 
“Good, my princess. Cum for me, fuckin’ soak me. I told you I wanted another fuckin’ mess,” he demands and fucks you even harder with his fingers and increases the pressure of the vibrator. 
You all but scream, definitely sure the neighbors can hear you, but you don’t give a fuck with the fireworks erupting behind your eyes and all throughout your body. Your body is still convulsing and you’re sure you’ve gone unconscious for a moment, but what brings you back to the Earth is the feeling of a warm, flat tongue licking you all over, cleaning you up. Then another sensation hits you: your bottom half is completely fucking drenched. You muster up all the strength you can to open your eyes and look down to see what’s going on. 
You see your big, broad man licking you up so sweetly, but from his mouth down he is also absolutely soaked, down to the collar of his dark green shirt he was wearing. 
Holy fuck. You fucking squirted. That was new. And with Joel’s reaction to it, you’re definitely sure that’s not gonna be the last time he pulls that out of you. 
He doesn’t realize you’re up again until you’re softly calling his attention back up to you and not your pussy. He makes eye contact with you, and his eyes fucking sparkle. Yeah, there’s no way this was a one time kind of thing. He sits back up on his haunches and strips himself of his shirt. He never pulled his jeans back up from when you used him to get off in the living room, so his dick has been patiently waiting for attention since your last two orgasms. 
He strips himself completely at the bottom half, too, leaving you with a perfect view of his toned chest, softer middle, and bulging arms and shoulders. Your cunt, all used and abused, fucking clenches on nothing at the naked sight of him. Of course, he fucking notices. 
“Oh, my poor baby. She’s just fuckin’ beggin’ to be filled, huh?” His southern drawl always intensifies whenever he gets spurred on like this. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you fold more than you already do. 
You whine at his words and spread your legs even wider for him to see what’s rightfully his. 
“Just beggin’ to get pumped full of my fuckin’ cum, huh, princess? Is that what she wants? That what my babygirl wants?” 
“Please, daddy! Yes, that’s what I- what I need, daddy… need you ins- fuck- need you inside, daddy,” you ramble out, already fucked stupid but still begging for more. He situates himself on top of you, stopping your begging with a harsh kiss that leaves your already swollen lips throbbing. “Shhh, I’m gonna give you what you need, darlin’,” and he kisses you one more time as he begins to notch his tip at your entrance. 
He hooks his arm underneath your knee, hiking your one leg up higher to open you completely. You feel him start to push in deeper, and neither of you can help the initial gasp of how good it feels to be consumed by one another. He leans down again to kiss you, unable to get enough of your lips on his, and you bring your hand back up to the back of his head, keeping him close to you, feeling the exact same way. 
He completely bottoms out into you then, his breathing labored and you, a whimpering mess. No matter how many times you two have fucked, his sheer size always makes you feel like it’s the first time. He stays still to let you get used to the feeling again. You both lay there for a few minutes, kissing and consuming each other’s breaths and moans while he gives you rhythmic little grinds to stimulate your clit. Your pussy is sobbing at this point, enough wetness has accumulated that he’s able to slide right out until just the tip is in you and he pushes right back in, hard. 
He fucks you hard, maintaining this rhythm for a while, completely consumed by the way you wrap around him so perfectly. What started off as one leg hiked up around him turned into a complete mating press, giving you the maximum sensation of his length and girth pumping in and out of you. He always gets so foul-mouthed whenever you two end up in this position, not that you’d ever complain because you love hearing that rough, sexy Southern drawl utter absolute filth that only your ears will ever get to hear. 
“Fuck, darlin’, it’s like she was fuckin’ made for me. Wrapped around my cock, so fucking tight and warm. I could spend fuckin’ forever here wrapped up in your tight fuckin’ cunt,” he groans. 
“All for you, daddy, always,” you respond, purposefully squeezing your pussy tight in time with your words. That drives him absolutely fucking crazy that he pulls his arm upwards in between your legs that are resting on his torso and brings his hand up to wrap around your throat. “Say it again,” he growls, “tell me who the fuck this pussy belongs to, baby.” He squeezes the sides of your neck tighter, creating an even lighter sensation in your head coupled with the submissive daze you’ve been in since you got here. 
“F-fuck, d-daddy- shit,” you can’t focus on anything but the way he feels wrapped around your neck while balls deep inside of you. 
“Darlin’ girl,” he warns, “don’t make me repeat myself.”
You sob out, willing your body to respond to him, willing your body to obey, “Th- this pussy belongs t- to-“ you take a breath, “to you, daddy, only you. Forever.” 
He releases your throat and pulls your legs down from the mating press, wrapping them around his waist instead. He places one hand at the back of your head and the other on the headboard, then kisses you furiously before breaking away, “God damn f-fuckin’ right, princess. All fuckin’ mine to do whatever I fuckin’ want.” And with that, he’s slamming into you, his hand on the headboard in a (wasted) attempt to save the wall from the constant banging. 
“Touch that pretty little clit, princess,” he breathes out, chasing his own release now with the sole intention of marking you with his seed. One hand still on his neck, the other snakes down to rub your clit in fast, messy circles, your body begging to cum for a fourth time tonight. “Daddy,” you whine out again, the honorific clearly being your only vocabulary for tonight. 
“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, “Cum for me, mama, and I’ll fill you up right fuckin’ now,” he sucks on your bottom lip, “You want that, baby? To be pumped full of me?” He knows your answer, yet he still asks anyway knowing how much his words affect you. 
“Please, God, yes, fill me up… I need your cum so fucking badly, I need to feel you, please,” you beg, only spurring him on more. 
With both of your mouths spilling such dirty words, his lips anywhere they can reach with the combination of you playing with your clit and him pounding into you, your body enters the astral plane yet again for the fourth time tonight. Though, this time, you force your body to come back down, so you can feel his warmth spill into you. 
It only takes but a few more thrusts after you climax for him to follow suit, roaring out as hot, thick ropes of cum spill into you, overflowing and dripping out of your sore cunt. He slowly pulls out, labored breathing, sits back up and just watches. Watches as your pussy clenches to keep him locked inside of you, watches as his load drips down your folds over your tight, little asshole. Another day, he thinks to himself with a smirk. 
He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his fingers are engrossed in the thick combination of your releases. You moan out at the sensitivity of your pussy, but Joel doesn’t care. He slips his middle and ring finger in, feeling just how much he filled you up. And before you know it, he’s pumping in and out of you yet again, his eyes completely focused on your glistening sex, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you fluttering for another fucking release. 
“Ahh,” you hiss, not knowing whether you want him to stop or keep going. He uses his other hand to rub on your clit. Fuck. Yeah, okay, you want him to keep going. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum again,” you say as you scramble to get ahold of the bedsheets. 
Joel’s gaze breaks away from your cunt to look at you, he smirks like the devil, “Oh, yeah, honey? Gonna give me another one? Come on, baby, I know you have it in you,” he slips a third finger inside. You whine at the stretch. “One more mess, baby, and then I’ll take care of you, I gotcha,” he says for comfort. 
You’re nearing the point where you guys usually begin to transition into aftercare, and he knows. He always knows. But he also knows that today you need a little extra push, so he gives it to you. 
The thrusts of his fingers don’t come to a stop, but they exponentially slow. “Give me a color, mi amor,” he softly encourages. Even with your erratic breathing, you’re able to force out, “Oh my god, daddy, green, green, green, please go faster, just like before, please-” 
He quickly leans forward and stops your blabbering with a chaste kiss and chuckles when he pulls back, “My god, I love you so much, princess.” Then his fingers pick back up to the speed you were so desperately loving before, his and your cum leaking out all over the inside of your thighs. 
“Fuck, daddy, I love you so fucking much, fuck, thank you, thank you,” you cry out. A few more pumps and a few more circles to your clit and you’re cumming for the fifth (and final) time tonight. Joel groans at the way you finish on his fingers, and it’s his mouth that blabbers out this time.
“Shit, baby, yes, soak my fuckin’ fingers, let me feel you, fuck-” He’s so enthralled at the sight before him, he doesn’t hear you pleading for him to stop pushing in and out until the honorific fades, “Baby, baby, baby,” you frantically breathe. 
He makes eye contact with you again and realizes how caught up he was in you. “Oh, darlin’, shit, I’m sorry, mi amor. What’s your color, baby? Fuck, I’m sorry-” 
It’s you this time who forces your entire wobbly body to push up and meet him in a bruising kiss. “Stop, daddy,” you say with a lilt in your tone, signaling to Joel that you’re back from subspace. You smirk, “My color is green, cowboy, but I really need you to run me a warm bath now because I can’t move a single muscle with how you had me, baby,” and pull him in once more for another kiss. 
His smugness returns and he pushes you back down on his bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses, forcing sweet out-of-breath giggles from you. “That, I can do, baby. May I join you?”
Your face completely softens, your stresses and worries from the last 24 hours completely nonexistent. “I’d be mad if you didn’t, Miller.” 
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The next hour and a half — or until the bath water becomes tepid — is spent with him cherishing your body, washing you with your lavender, oat milk body wash you love so much, ultimately just helping you softly come down from your oxytocin high. 
You’ve never felt more loved, appreciated, or taken care of in your life. He always makes sure your come down is smooth and unnoticeable as you fall from a blissed state of mind to one of pure love and adoration. As long as you have him in your life, you truly believe you have all of what you need. 
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As he’s drying your body up and slipping you into one of his t-shirts, your stomach growls… loudly. 
“Darlin’...” 
You pull away from his grasp, jokingly rolling your eyes while smirking, “Yeah, yeah, Miller. Come on. Gotta fill me up again, don’tcha, cowboy?” 
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out followed by your name, “Tryna put me in an early fuckin’ grave or what?”
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Author’s note - extended: Hi guys! I birthed this little one shot on a Friday night while sippin’ on a glass of whiskey and stressing about the stressful entire week I just had. This isn’t my first time writing, in general, but this is my first time writing with the intention of truly producing a story out of it.. this is also my first story I’m posting, so I’m very nervous. Even if just one other person reads this and enjoys it, that’s all that matters to me <3 I also wanna give a quick thank you to my bestie, who’s an AVID smut reader, for proofreading this. She said, and I quote, “gotta change my panties” and “she’s growling” after reading this LMAOO. So, thank you for that, bestie. I love you with my whole heart.
As with any fic, reblog and comments are very much appreciated!! All feedback is appreciated, too!!! Please do let me know how you liked this, and if there's anything specific I could work to improve, I'd love to know! I hope I did okay for my first actual attempt at smut.
Much love to everyone! <3
.
EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!
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wolfytoothy · 2 months
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miles as a father
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stuff I'd think earth 42 miles would react, say,do, to you being pregnant and a first time father.
when you first came to Miles saying you pregnant. It was valentines day. So while you guys were at dinner you broke the news to him.
He was excited as fuck.
He was also nervous as fuck. He wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. Considering he was the prowler and stuff. But he made it work.
Matter fact, he was a W fiance. (Yea you guys are engaged)
He made sure you were okay, and never left you alone, he was everywhere. And when he was on a mission he made SURE to call and test you when he can.
He also when he's away, he leaves you at your agency were he KNOWS you'll be safe, considering that your besti is way to overprotective like him it makes perfect sense.
"Miles, I'm not a baby, I can take care of my self"
"Nuh uh, what happens is the enemy finds out bout you and desided to come after you, what then"
"Miles you and I both know that's a low risk"
"The chances are low, but never 0"
He goes everywhere with you, when you go shopping, run Aarons.
"Hey, aren't you supposed to be on maturity leave"
"Yea?"
"They why are my eyes looking at my pregnant wife, taking calls and giving orders like she is not" he said frowning a bit.
"Miles I run I company what do you want me to do" you complained
And best believe this man monitors you when you have to be back in control for a few minutes.
"Hey, time to stop" he said snapping his fingers.
"Miles I'm handling something"
"I don't care. Let J.B. handle it, I can see you stressing, let's go"
"Miiiillles🥺"
And don't think just because your pregnant he won't be taking you out on those dates.
"princesa, luciendo hermosa como siempre" (princess, looking beautiful as always) he said taking your hand assisting you put the car.
"gracias, mi amor" (thank you my love)
And don't think just because your pregnant, you don't dress fine as fuck. YOUR EATING IT ALL UP.
And of course miles always knows what to say and do when you cry.
It was a long day, and you guys ordered take out. You were 19 weeks pregnant. You guys ordered take out. And as soon as you looked in the bag, you groaned.
"What? Something wrong?"
"Yes bro,?" You whined on the verge of tears.
"Mama what's wrong?"
"They got my order wrong" you cried bursting into tears.
"What me to go get your right order-"
"No it's fine I'll eat it"
"Mami-"
"It's fine miles I'll eat it"
and you know your boy is always purpared with those complimentsin hand and jokes that would make you feel better.
When it was the gender reveal party. He was mighty confident it was girl.
And of course mama Rio planned the baby shower AND the gender reval party.
When he found out if was a girl. That man was on a mission.
He brought new clothes, new shoes, new everything. Never in one million years would you think YOU would be the one telling him to "put it back", or "we have that at home" that was usually his line, but that while week. He was obsessed.
"Aww, ma look" he Said holding up pink little baby shoes
"Awww, that's cute, but we have that already"
"It won't hurt if she has two-"
"Put it back boy"
This man would rub your stomach, rub your back, do your hair, clean, cook, pamper you basically. And don't think you didn’t return. He he wanted to be the perfect husband then you could be the perfect wife right tf back.
But when it came to that nursery. You had a whole intire fight with him just so hevwoukd let you help out with the nursery.
"Miles please, you've been working your ass off lemme help"
"You can help by relaxing and letting me be your man"
"Don't start"
After a full 2 days of arguing. He finally caved in and agreed.
Finally the time came.
You were up stairs in the nursery, 9 months pregnant, 3 days past the due date, currently organizing clothes while Miles cleaned the kitchen. It was night, and you two were up late trying to get this damn baby out, but rested and decided to relax a bit. It wasn't till then you got up to pee.
So naturally you got up. Till you felt water trickle down your leg. Instantly.
"Uh. MILES"
"Huh!?"
"MY WATER BROKE"
Lemme tell you... that car was going 120 miles per hour. Whole assing down that high way nearly about to get pulled over.
This man waisted no time.
So now you were in the hospital room, getting contractions. But you weren't dilated enough yet, so the doctor had to make you walk around.
"Wait so your telling me these contractions are gonna get worse!?"
"Yes, ma'ma. You want the epidural when you can"
"Hell yes"
So you got the epidural and now you were just waiting.
Till the time came.
Thats when the baby girl was Born.
Maya Juanita Morales L/n
Born March 28.
When she was born. Miles cried his eyes out. Never in your life, have you seen this man cry so hard.
When he got the chance to hold her for the first time, he burst into tears again.
"She's so pretty, and tiny" he cried.
After that day, Everything changed for Miles. Not only was he the goat best friend, goat boyfriend, goat fiance, goat husband.
He IS AND SHALL BE THE GOAT FATHER, and you CAN'T tell me other wise.
You know from the start that this baby was gonna be a daddy's girl.
He always came in clutch. He was in love.
He rocked her to sleep, fed her when you weren't available, carried her everywhere, and OFCOURSE spoiled her. You can't tell me other wise.
That baby... almost came out looking exactly like miles, same eyes, ears, hair texture, lips, the only thing she inherited from you was your noise.
You carried her for 9 months, couldn’t sleep properly for 6 months, had morning sickness every morning, backed hurted, grew her in your stomach for 9 months. Just for her to pop out looking like her daddy. And worse she's a daddy girl.
Oh nahhh baby that ain't funna work twin.
And of course he had that first time dad scare.
literally him
...................
Any ways I just wanted to do this.
If
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popquizhot-shot · 11 months
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Father Mine- 2. Miguel O’Hara x teen!spider!reader
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Just note- this and father mine aren’t in the canon of Miguel’s and mini Miguel’s story line<3 also this is absolute crap and I’m so sorry it has a lot more plot and less of Miguel and mini Miguel interaction. Though whatever they do have is pain. (ALSO THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR LOVE I LOVE ALL OF YOU) please comment and reblog if you liked it :DD
Warnings: angst. FATHER MINE PART 1 Part 3
“Where is she?” He asks Jess.
“She didn’t follow.” Is what the woman replies and that’s that.
A spark of worry shoots through him but he ignores it. Now is not the time to worry about anything but the anomaly.
He scans his surroundings and tries to look for wherever the kid may be.
A part of his mind still screams he’s just a kid.
That weak thinking, letting things slide mindset was ahat got Gabriella killed. It was what killed an entire universe. He couldn’t let more people be killed for the sake of the life of one man.
“Split up. Look for him.” He orders Ben and Jess and they leave promptly.
Not now. Not now. He’d check up on you after.
——————
“Miles!” You whisper-shout at the boy.
He almost shouts but you cover his mouth with your hand, “you’re in the wrong universe, you’re on earth-42.” His eyes widen, “I’m here to help you.”
“Why should I trust you?” His eyes narrow at you.
“I don’t know.” You look down, “But I’m asking you to trust me anyways.”
After a beat of silence he talks, “how did you know I was in the wrong universe?”
“You were bit by a spider that was from here. It’s venom altered your dna to this universe. And the go home machine scanned your dna, which was this universes and sent you here, I’m running out of breath and I can hear your mom from this univers walking here so let’s please just go.” You pull him out through the window just as the door opens and Rio steps in.
You and Miles drop down into an abandoned alleyway, and you hide a wince because of the pain in your leg. He turns invisible and you open a portal. Just as he walks through, Ben comes into view and sees you.
“Mini Miguel! You’re here! You know your dad was pretty worried you didn’t show! I’ll tell him you’re here wait- I” you web his mouth and eyes and as he flails about you launch yourself upwards and unhook his watch.
“I’m sorry, Ben.” You apologise to his mumbling form as his hands thrash around to remove the webs.
You jump into the portal and it closes.
“We’re in Miguel’s APARTMENT?” Miles’s all but shrieks and you wince.
“Jeez, bro. Don’t worry. He won’t look here.” You hand him a bottle of water from the minibar.
He drinks it all in one go and breathes deeply. You calm him down, “this is just for a few hours. Then I’ll shift you to your own universe.”
“Why not now?” He asks.
“You need to eat, and you’ll be fine. No one’s going to be named Captain tonight right? You can’t help anyone if you’re half dead.”
He clenches his jaw and sits down as you go to the kitchen and get a leftover pizza from the fridge. It was from that family night you had with Miguel and Lyla the day before Miles’s arrival.
You head to the living room after heating his food and his eyes are transfixed on a photo frame in his hand.
It’s a photo of you and him that Lyla had managed to sneak and Jess had printed for your birthday.
“He seems nice. When he’s not trying to kill me.” The boy scoffs.
You don’t answer, just handing him his food.
He eats in silence and you take the time to clean the house. Even if you did hate him just a bit, it didn’t mean he deserved to live in a messy house because he was too busy working.
“You really love him, huh?” Miles piped up and you look up from fluffing a cushion.
“Hmm.” You hum in response, “I don’t know.”
“If you didn’t you wouldn’t be here fluffing up his cushions and cleaning his home. Or should I say your home as well.” He raises an eyebrow.
You throw the cushion, “his home. Come on, we need to get to his office so I know what universe you’re from.”
He follows you to the window and has to swallow a gasp when you walk through it and float like you’re walking on air.
You chuckle, “it’s an illusion, sort of like that Indiana Jones movie.”
“The thing with the grail?” His voice is shaky as his foot comes to rest onto the platform connecting the window to the opposite balcony.
“Yeah, I got it made to fuck with Miguel.”
He huffs out a laugh, “I bet he would have freaked out?”
“You have no idea.” You smile a little at the memory as you jump of the platform and land lightly on the terrace.
Every few minutes you usher Miles into the few dark alleyways in the futuristic city of Nueva York to use the hidden pathways that are used by the underground thug gangs that you had managed to sniff out.
It takes about half an hour to reach the tower, and Miles turns invisible, “you couldn’t have done that before?” You raise an eyebrow.
He just looks sheepish and you try not to roll your eyes, “come on.”
He follows you through the entire area, sees them all wave and smile at you as you walk to where spider-byte may be.
——-
“Ben, come in.” Miguel speaks, “Ben!”
With a groan, he phones Lyla. She picks up immediately and her voice is frantic, “you need to get back. Now.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s Miles.” She informs him, “mini you is with him.”
His eyes widen under the mask and without a word he opens a portal to go home, “Jess. We’re going back to base.”
————————
“1610. Earth 1610.” You recite as you make a portal.
As soon as it opens, the door to the room swings open.
It’s a sort of déjà vu if you think about it.
The same room, the same scenario. But this time it’s you he’s after.
Your blood runs cold and you push Miles inside, “save your dad.” Are the last words you say to him as the portal closes in time just as Miguel pounces through air.
He looks at you and you freeze. His eyes are red and his fangs are out.
As he stands to his feet, your breathing becomes uneven.
Fuck you’re panicking. And it’s weird, because you’ve faced evil villains before. You’ve fought people that make Miguel look like a shortie.
So.. why the fuck are you so scared? Or were you always just a coward?
“You’re hurt.” He says in an eerily calm voice.
“Why-why do you care?” You huff out and his eyebrows furrow.
“What do you mean?” He raises his hand and you flinch. You notice the way his eyes widen and the hurt that floods the pools of his eyes.
He takes another step forward and you back away, “Stay the fuck away from me.” Your hand shoots forward. Only widening the chasm between the both of you.
“What. Happened? Who hurt you? Was it Miles? Did he force you to help him?” He snarls.
You stare at him dumbfounded, “Who hurt me? Are you serious?”
“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
You scoff, “I helped him of my own accord.”
It’s then that he takes a deep breath and a step back.
“That’s right. I helped him get away!”
“….how could you do this to us? To me?” He points to himself.
“What are you going to do now? Try and kill me like you did him?”
“I would never. I am your father-”
“You are a selfish monster.” You say and his breath hitches. The look on his face breaks your own heart and all you want to do is hug him.
“Don’t say that.” He points at you, “you don’t mean it.”
“I meant every damn word.” You scowl and reply, “you are not my father. I am not your daughter.”
He schools the hurt on his face, “So be it.” He webs your watch and breaks it into tiny pieces in a matter of moments, “it’s cute that you thought you could one up me. Really.” He chuckles, “You are relieved of your duties effective immediately. You will never be allowed into Earth-928 or any other dimension hereafter.”
He webs you closer to him as he opens a portal into some obscure universe, one you’ve never heard of, and just before he pushes you in, you glimpse the tears in his eyes, your own running down your cheek as you scream profanities at him.
The last thing you see is his face before you’re thrown into complete darkness.
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zairene · 11 months
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misc. earth 42!miles morales bf headcanons. <3
warnings: some fluff.
author’s note: i had no idea what to write specifically so i just wanted write some random miles hcs that i had conjured up in my head. ngl this is definitely one of my weaker written pieces, but i still wanted to get it out regardless. </3
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miles is very touchy. some part of his body has to always be touching yours. you both could be sitting down—his hand would be on your thigh or his arm is around your shoulder. you both necessarily don’t have to be directly next to each other. he could be sitting in at his desk, playing his game while your legs are in his lap. (he put a chair next to his so you could be comfortable.)
while cuddling, miles is big spoon. he doesn’t have any against being little spoon, he just likes feeling like he’s protecting you. but if you insist on being big spoon, he’ll cave in after you give him a kiss or two.
speaking of kisses, miles goes weak from that. his favorite places to kiss you on is either your forehead, lips or cheek. (sometimes your jawline too) he initiates kisses most of the time but whenever you do, he can’t help but melt in your arms instantly every time.
miles always indulges in hearing you talk. he could never pinpoint it, but he was in love with your voice. you could be over the phone or in person. you could be rambling about something but then you just stop because you notice the way he’s just looking at you. he hadn’t said anything since you started talking, he just was staring at you with admiration. you would ask him if he was listening to you, and he’ll reply with a, “sí, estoy escuchando.” (yes, i’m listening.) with a slight head nod.
miles is definitely a “yes ma’am” dude. if you tell him to do something, he does it. it’s honestly kinda scary how he’ll listen to your every word. you both could be in public and you notice that your shoe string is untied. you nudge him with your foot and politely ask if he could tie your shoe. he’ll literally bend down and tie it, no questions asked. his mom could walk up in his room, saying something along the lines of, “miles, what are you doing? esta habitación es un desastre!” (this room is a mess!) and tells him to immediately clean it up before she takes his things and not allow you over until he does. after she walks out, he’d shrug and say that his room isn’t even dirty, but once you tell him to clean it he’ll immediately get up and do it.
miles’ love language is quality time. he loves spending every hour of every day with you. and when he’s not with you, he’s in not in a particularly good mood. (he refuses to talk to anyone but his parents) not saying he cannot live without you, no that’s not the case. he‘s just a grumpy kid who just misses his girlfriend. he hates school weeks but loves weekends. and whenever it’s summer, he’s just glad he can spend it with you.
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TAGLIST :: @kisamekiss @kazuminari @planetlunaa @mypimpademia @megurulvr @dreampurpledreams @chinieh @naijagrl @looking4chanel @pixieplush17 @jogeto @laylasbunbunny @jamies-cumslut @sapphicshav
TAGLIST FORM
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lunarfleur · 1 year
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Earth 42! Miles Morales Datings Hcs
Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin
Warnings:Mentions of his job as the prowler
A/N: I’m literally in love with him help
This is x gender neutral reader!
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This boy is not your sugar daddy. Be fr.
Does he have extra cash? Yeah.
But he’s not your sugar daddy. That is a child.
He’s honestly not that different from Earth 1610! Miles, he’s just been through a lot more shit
He’s still a dork, deep down.
But let’s get the inevitabilities out of the way
Spanish nicknames, for sure. I don’t speak Spanish, but it’d just be the ones everyone in the community thinks he would use 😭
As well as baby and babe.
This boy is a hugger in every universe
He would never openly say, “I need a hug.” But, he’d pull you in or bury his face in your neck
It gets the point across
I think for both versions of Miles, he keeps his room clean for you
His mom always gets on him for it, so it’s just habit to have his room clean
Picking up any and all dirty clothes, vacuuming, dusting, that kind of thing.
It’s typically clean anyways, but he makes sure it’s as clean as possible for you
Movie nights whenever he doesn’t get called into work. You’re tucked against him. One arm is around your shoulder, the other hand is rested comfortably on your thigh.
This boy loves loves loves forehead kisses, both giving and receiving
A lot of times he gives them as apologies
He couldn’t make a date, so he’s kissing your forehead after kissing your lips and apologizing so so genuinely
But you give him one? He’s dying.
You’re in his lap, and you just *mwah?*
He’s a goner
Let’s be honest, he’s young and in love. You make him excited.
Make out sessions are both common and enjoyable
He knows not to take too far, of course, but he can’t help but love on you
But make outs are never for public
He’s not ashamed of PDA, but he doesn’t think anyone else should see something so intimate.
But he’ll kiss you, hold your hand, leave his arm around your shoulders, and basically all the other toned down displays of affection
The only people that are afraid of him are the ones who have caused problems with him
He’s lived in New York all his life. A lot of kids know him. A lot of kids know that he just changed after he lost his dad
The ignorant ones start fights with him. The ignorant ones lose fights with him.
Because this boy can scrap
He’s not really some big, bad bully who runs his school or whatever
He sticks to being a loner, with the exception of you.
He still maintains good grades and behavior and all that
He doesn’t really get in trouble for fighting because he’s never the one who starts it
It’s self defense, you know?
There’s only 3 people in his life that he genuinely cares about: You, his mom, and his uncle.
Of course, he wants you to meet them
So he brings you home one day
And, luckily for you, they’re both easy to get along with
But he’s okay with not meeting your family
If you don’t want him to, he doesn’t have to
Fights with him go one of two ways, depending on the severity of the situation.
A:It’s a very serious, tense discussion. He doesn’t put any distance between you two, maybe holding your hand or keeping his knee touching yours. He speaks carefully and he listens to you.
This Miles doesn’t yell. Not at you, not at his mom, basically never.
B: You two give each other space. He makes sure you’re home safely, leaving you with a kiss on the forehead, before giving both of you time to calm down and think everything over.
And then once you two are ready, you talk things over and he apologizes. This leads to soft make outs and/or cuddles.
But we all know he’s The Prowler
He’s not a villain, necessarily. He doesn’t kill people for the fun of it. He kills people who deserve it. Criminals, people who have genuinely hurt others.
He didn’t wait too long to tell you, actually.
It was only a month or two.
He liked you, genuinely, and it shocked him to his core. He knew his job would put distance between you two. He didn’t want that. Miles wanted things with you to go right.
He told you cautiously, and made sure to explain what he did and why.
It made sense, it really did. And he made sure to keep you away from it all.
It was hard to handle at first, but eventually you came to terms with it.
He was honestly terrified that you’d be scared of him. He’s still a kid, remember.
Sometimes, he gets called in and can’t make a date.
But Miles hates it and makes damn good sure he makes it up to you
He keeps tabs of everything he’s missed
He’s a sweetheart, honestly.
He gives you things, like gifts and his clothes and full access to his room
And he’s always making sure you’re in the best of moods
You’re crying? He’s doing everything he can to fix it.
Miles isn’t a bad boyfriend, it just takes some time to understand him.
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