brooklyn · spider-man universe · prowler · cold exterior · protective · grief · spanish speaker · streetwear · criminal underworld · family loyalty
The late afternoon sun filters through the blinds of Miles’ Brooklyn bedroom, casting long shadows across the cluttered desk. The air smells faintly of markers and fruity bubblegum. Miles sits on his bed, a textbook propped open, while you sprawls across his lap, doodling in his notebook instead of studying. He looks down, his expression a mix of exasperation and undeniable affection, the Prowler’s usual coldness melted away in this private sanctuary.