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vqrtualheartss · 4 months ago

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ᴅ☆ᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴀʏ|

Ik y'all missed me 🫶🏾

Also hi, idk why my next post finna be but I love y'all . Wait no, I have a nurse fic.

ALSO. I WROTE THIS DIFFERENTLY, YOU ARE THE NURSE IT'S THIRD PERSON. The inserts of 'you' is very intentional.

As usual, whenever the orange and pinks painted the skies of Earth 42, the labouring doctor— Y/n Campbell would be coddled into the safety of her weighted blankets. Too tired from another all-consuming hospital shift, too tired to face the slasher movies Brooklyn reenacted bi-weekly.

“These stupid curfews are genuinely futile” Is what she'd often think in frustration. Fortunately for her, she'd never have to test the effectiveness of the mandate. The city had always been a battlefield—and she'd managed to stay out its worst. Miles made sure of that. Most, if not all her materialistic needs would be catered to at her pretty welcome mat, often accompanied by some lovesick note. Satan sure had pretty handwriting. Yes, the devil, because Miles Gonzalo Morales likes to act as if he was born with the poisoned chalice of immortality; always on some suicide mission per his and Kingpin's best interests. She wasn't complaining about his absenteeism, their busy schedules seemed to have fit together oddly, nicely. But tonight, her luck had ran dry, her water supply finished, food and fruits depleting— and so, so much more that she just couldn't wait on Miles for. How long would she have to?

It had already been weeks, two whole weeks that he hadn't picked up a call or answered a text

Je ne suis pas supris.

She wasn't angry, how could she be? She'd basically swore herself beside him the moment she stayed. She knew the ups of 'it' and how to bare the downs.

Either way, it was just a simple task; Throw on some sweats. Purse. Supermarket. In. Get her stuff. Out. Home.

But you didn't believe me when I said the odds were just not in her favour today, did you?

Blood thumped through her ears, gushed relentlessly down her left side, and trickled it's was from her two toned lips to the end of her chin. Injuries overwhelmed her receptors, her teeth digging into the thickened material of the folded kerchief. It was too much to navigate what was bruised, ripped and broken. Too much to recall the order regarding the shots, explosion and searing pain ripping through her body. One second she hugged a loaded bag of groceries, briskly walking down Eldritch Street; the next, she was coughing up blood, hands slick with the crimson proof of her undoing.

Who cyah hear must feel. Nuh suh it guh? The world blurred in her vision; colours of surrounding situations mixing together. Alongside her, three others had been caught in the crossfire of glass, explosion impacts, and the bullets that hit them and her— two bullets, to be exact.

One lodged in her shoulder, the other above her rib. She wobbled sliding down the cold metal of a taxi cab. With her mind somewhat intact, she inferred that neither of the two metallic fragments came in contact with her vital organs. A sliver of hope shone through her clusterfuck of a end, however, quickly snuffed as fast as it came.

Without proper care she'd die on a dirty sidewalk. Without proper care, she'd— um. She would. You. You would— it. Care. Not proper. No. No Definitely, not proper.

Care was simply just, care. Not a thing about it was proper. It found her before she found it. It had watched Brooklyn burn from the rooftops, choking on the ashes; drowning in its own violence. Care was malicious, baleful. Care was fucked in the head, basking in the defeat of the 'good'. Because care was— is evil, care is sinful; because care was the devil. Yet, when care saw a slumped figure against a cab his stomach dropped. Care's feet moved faster than his mind could catch up. Care saw reds, pinks, blues and blacks.

He might've just ignored it. Would've. Until he saw her clothes, recognized the body he so loved. Until he realized—

His breath came out ragged, the sight of her halting him in his tracks. She was painted in reds too deep to be anything but fatal; her demise tainting the pink sweater she wore.

“Fuck” a pause. “Look at you.” then another.

His voice was cracked. She tried to breathe when he picked her off the jagged pavement. Tried to. Every induced breath felt taxing on her ribs, pricking at each bone before exhale. ⠀⠀⠀A long time ago she spat the cloth out, biting onto her bottom lip instead as resolve. Her blood stained lips parted into something semblant to a smile. “Miles”

She spoke as though she saw right past the mask. Through all this fucked up shit he did. She didn't see The Prowler. The gauntlets. The suit. Everything. None of it. Saw past all that shit. Always has.

She wrapped her right arm around her left side, flinging the other hand on his shoulder. Groaning. Her hand squeezed at the fractured bones, bracing herself at verbal sacrifice. ⠀⠀⠀⠀“Y'know, I thought dying would be peaceful… it just feels cold” He stood for barely a millisecond, scrutinizing her face when her words registered.

And God, did she have the audacity to look beautiful while doing all this—dying. Step. Then another, he pressed her, closer, to himself, shaking his head.

He opens his mouth. Nothing ever comes out.

His face scrunches up, caught between a scowl and a sob.

Swallowing hurt and fighting it— maybe if he's stubborn enough tears wouldn't fall. Wouldn't betray the strong front he put up. ⠀⠀⠀⠀“Nah, don't start that. You and me? We ain't going even going the same place when we die, so you not dying right now”. He hissed, not angry at her, angry at himself. He wanted to believe it, that you were gonna be okay.

And she didn't even give him much to work with. Her hand unclenched at his nape, falling flat on his shoulder; no longer brushing at brown skin. There wasn't a tilt to her head; everything buried into the jacket.

He swallows, hard, his voice steady, softer, like if he speaks gentle enough he could keep you here— “Just a little longer, please.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀“You gon' be alright, yeah? I got you. Always.”

He barely felt her warmth before it stilled at the leather on his suit.

⠀⠀⠀⠀“Wake the fuck up. Get up. Jesus Christ, open your eyes.”

Each refusal fell from his mouth differently— one in horror, another in grief. The last in sheer, unhinged rage. Checking her pulse might've been the breaking point for him, so he didn't. His world blurred in blues and blacks. His world ceased in his hands, holding it tight—his chest tight too— with something close to desperation.

He called everyone. Everyone. Aaron. Kingpin's doctors. Any motherfukcer who could sew her back together.

And if they couldn't—

If not—

Brooklyn would burn.

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vqrtualheartss · 11 months ago

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YOUR LOVE ☪︎

"Can I have some of your love?"

genre: fluff, silly idea, Miles being absolutely whipped for reader

synopsis: Miles finally decides to make a move on his hallway crush.

song inspo: Some - Steve Lacy

tags: @oliveeoil

AN: imma be real, this is like my first miles fic ever, so if i write him a bit out of character, im so sorry guys 😭 but i really enjoyed writing this and i tried to make it as cute as possible! anyways i hope you enjoy!

Things can be repetitive. Each day feels just like the one before it, causing things to become a pattern. It happens to the best of us, even to the pride of Brooklyn himself. The days Miles could recall were starting to mix. Go to school, vigilante work and go home for the weekend, over and over again. This was how things had been for the past month or two, at least until a few weeks ago.

Before, school was more like a blurry mess of repetitive assignments and classes, a place that he disliked and just not worthy of getting up early for everyday. Now for the first time in a while, he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement every morning. Couldn't help waking up early, getting ready and being focused on one thing, the same thing that was on his mind on late nights. Having him giddy with excitement, being a bit quicker out the door every morning just to be even a little bit earlier to wander the hallways for a while, scanning the groups of fellow students while hoping to find a specific face every morning before class.

He spots you from a distance, playing it cool and only looking for a moment, just to admire from a distance before being forced to head over to first period. Hurrying to class as he mulls over your appearance in his head, trying to keep the image fresh so he can replicate it on paper.

You had your hair in a simple 'fro today, having taken out the French curl braids you had in for months. Miles always enjoyed how creative you were with your hair, showing up with a different style everyday whether braided or free, as he always tried hard to notice the differences in each style before doing his best to recreate it on paper.

Class passes as usual, the dull lecture of the teacher being nothing more than white noise as Miles does his best to redraw what he saw from you this morning. As he moves from class to class it feels like he sees you almost everywhere. Gathered at the lockers laughing with a friend or two, leaving a class with an armful of books and a binder or just aimlessly wandering the halls, either avoiding returning to class or on your way to the restroom.

There were so many chances in the day to talk, but besides the overwhelming nervousness at the thought he didn't exactly know how. You were in his Studio Art class and you had spoken to him before but only briefly to compliment his J's, to which he responded with an awkwardly enthusiastic thanks. To avoid embarrassing himself he kept his distance, picturing the day where he’d finally work up the nerve to say hi.

Today was actually different from the usual class; In Studio Art today, your class has been volunteered (more of assigned) to help work on painting some large set pieces for theater. As you’re all standing in front of the theater director for instructions on where to begin, by some form of luck, Miles ends up piled in next to you. With this realization he feels a good amount of fear and curiosity inside, with him being able to see you clearly in his peripherals simply waiting, although with a faint air of frustration for the group to begin.

Something inside him wants to speak up and say something, anything to get your attention but the fear of saying something embarrassing keeps him silent as his mind races to come up with a subject of interest. He spares a few glances only to find you already looking at him, now refusing to look at you even after hearing you let out a huff of laughter, still staring. “...bruh, I've seen you staring already. Can I help you?” You laugh as you watch him stammer to come up with a response, eyes looking everywhere but at you. “Oh-! Um, shit, sorry..uhh…your J’s, where'd you get them from??”

Oh my God, are you serious? You could have said anything, and you asked about her shoes?? He watches in embarrassment as you look down at your shoes and back up at him in confusion. “Uhh, at the mall. Why?” He hesitates for a moment before blurting out a response. “They, uh, they look nice.” You nod. “Oh, thanks.” An awkward silence follows, with you and Miles both sneaking glances at each other before being dismissed to work with everyone else. Feeling a bit embarrassed and disappointed, Miles began to walk off only to realize you were following behind him.

You can't help but smile at his surprised expression before hurrying ahead towards a tarp with some smaller set peices. “We should start with these first, don't you think?” He watches as you sit down cross-legged on the tarp, silently inviting him to sit with you. “Uhh, yeah, sure.” He smiled back, sitting down with you and watching as you mess with a few bottles of paint before glancing back over at him, a hint of embarrassment on your face.“So, you got any idea what we're supposed to do? "Cause I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't really paying attention.”

"I don't- I think we're just supposed to paint over them in white? I'm not sure.” You sigh at this, passing him a brush before pouring white paint into the tray. “I'm really not tryna do this today. I actually wanted to stay in Art today, get to work on my project.”

“The mixed media one? I haven't really started on it yet…” You let out a huff of laughter. “Me neither. I just had a few ideas in my mind..just trying to come up with something, yknow?”

Silence begins as the two of you work on painting, but Miles can't help but glance over at you every now and then, only to hear you speak up again in a more shy tone. “I've seen some of your art too, the street art at least. It's really impressive.” You keep your gaze locked on the task in front of you, completely missing his pleased, surprised and flattered expression. “Really?”

“Yeah. From what I've seen, you never draw a sketch for that style, you just go for it. That's cool, and I've seen your tags too, the one on your bag, I mean, and..I like ‘em. They're cool.”

You trail off, getting visibly embarrassed, before looking up to see the awkward smile on his face, completely floored and pleased by your appreciation and fumbling to come up with a response. “Uh, thanks! That's really… I can make you a tag too, if you want!” Miles watches as your eyes light up and you hesitate to accept his offer. “Really? You don't have to if you don't want to..”

He nods, completely unbothered. “Yeah. I don't mind, really.” He watches as you smile back, making his heartbeat speed up. “Thank you…if you're interested, I can show you some of the ideas I had for the project, once we finish all this, of course.”

“Okay, sure.” Feeling accomplished and thrilled by how smoothly things went, the two of you continue to paint in a more comfortable silence, with a new feeling of relief and excitement for the next interaction between you two.

wc: 1,281

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vqrtualheartss · 11 months ago

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY POOKIE 💋

everybody say happy birthday miles !!!

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vqrtualheartss · 11 months ago

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"ima write something soon" I lie too much

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vqrtualheartss · 1 year ago

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Without Barriers — e42!Miles x Fem!Black!Reader

ᴅ☆ᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴀʏ|

Hi chatt, unuh miss me? 🙂.

Anywho, part 3 of this thing

I been inactive but I swrr it's just school, I been inactive n shit but I still love writing and adore Spider-verse (I'm still hyper fixated. Helpp.)

Also looks like I have part 4&5 to give after I properly proofread, bye lovess

These past few weeks in Earth 42 have been quite eventful to say the least. Not to mention you breaking the promise to yourself that you'll never fall in love with Miles Morales ever again. I mean, it was inevitable really. Who wouldn't fall in love if someone looked at them like that?

Leading up to school Miles got everything in order for you.

Your hair? Who knew your man was a cosmetologist cause he did you right by that electric blue dye

Clothes? Bought and paid in fulll

He made sure you had common knowledge of everything. Places, people, lingo, social norms even drama, he went as far as teaching you basic fighting techniques.

"I know it may hurt tesoro, but you need to learn. I'm not gonna be there every time to save you."

One thing that had you on ice though was when he brought in fake identification with your new credentials that did not look fake at all. Truly, you didn't want to question it, but your face said what your mouth didn't. Now you looked at the papers then at Miles, back and forth, back and forth.

"I know you have questions, just ask" He spoke up, breaking the unneeded awkward silence when he did.

"I didn't even say anything to you" I retorted

"Good"

That came off with more sass than it should've, from both of you at that.

I hate his attitude at times. "Miles, sit down."

He sat himself where he did before, bracing himself deeper into the chair. "My eyes are up here by the way. "

He laughed when I hissed. Yuh bright bad. Slowly the playful air in the room dissipated, a more serious feel emerging. Miles cleared his throat, he was nervous, okayy. I still kicked my feet while being on the bed, waiting patiently for him to start.

"(y/n)" his leg started to bounce involuntarily

My eyes shifted to him, they already were but this time I looked into his eyes. Lord knows I was not the one for eye contact, so I hid the other half of my face with a pillow. Because, I was ready to giggle, and I don't think it was the time for that.

"You, and I know about how I feel about keeping secrets from each other"

My eyebrows furrowed, but it was true though. Miles told me everything he could remember , his allergies, favorites, dislikes, pet peeves. Even the most personal shit like how the house we shared was a piece of land paid in full by his father before he passed— one for him and another for his mamá. Like I said, everything.

And I never judged him for any of it, no reason to, but right now, I am not familiar or comfortable with this tone. I nodded for him to continue, visibly skeptical of what was to come next.

"And I've been giving you the half-assed truth about what I do. My uncle and I, we work fo- with this man. Kingpin, and the shit we do isn't necessarily good either. I fight, steal, hurt people, a bunch of stuff"

Knowing Miles he would've went on with the list trying to "be transparent" . Drawing an inference he stopped noticing my widened eyes , I wasn't shocked at him. No, it was the insane ass plot twist. In the other dimension it was just Aaron and Kingpin, yikes. Miles gave me my look, my look when I'm signaling for questions or something to make a situation less awkward.

"You kill people? "

He nodded

"Often?"

"They must've sent the feds on my ass"

I wasn't pissed, I swear, but the hitched lip and narrowed eyes inflicted a response from him. He relaxed his shoulders , but he still looked perplexed.

"Never have, almost broke the streak after-" I put up a hand in front of him, stopping whatever he was going say next. I do not care about what you do inside that suit, whatever you want handsome.

I stared blankly, randomly looking over at him when I heard his breathing heavy.

"You're not scared of me right?" He stammered a bit, aw

"Do you plan on hurting me?"

"I know you're not stupid" Just cause yah man nuh mean seh yuh fi wicked

I watch him rest his elbows to the edge of his thighs, I copied his hand placements from before, head in palms, a W over my lower features.

He sighed.

"No, never, nunca baby"

"Then there's your answer: no, never, nunca" Nah call yuh baby too much cause yahv mi siddung like yam inna basket.

--------------

Then came the time when your results for Brooklyn Visions were to arrive. Given that they decided to send the letter a mere two days before school opened was criminal. Already anxious, it didn't help that it was one of those days where Miles was absent for almost all 24hrs.

Your stomach flipped on end, contemplating what to do if you didn't get in, what to tell Miles— you couldn't just stay here doing nothing for the whole day, waste style that. The what if's had you on edge, not wanting to open the letter, so—... you didn't.

Waking up from an afternoon nap, you felt disoriented with no remembrance of earlier. Somewhat aware of the time difference of then till now you went downstairs looking for Miles and instead went for the letter. Although a delayed reaction you shrieked at the words in bold : You're Accepted!. The lingering decibels drew Miles down frantically observing that he didn't even take off his left gauntlet. Seeming as though you were safe, he went up after a while then came back down— to shower presumably, he hated having you near him after he's gone out.

"I got in!"

-------- (Skipped a few lines cause I'm lazy)

"Miles, stop kissing my face, you're gonna bring out my cheeks"

Any average person would've, but not Miles— he wasn't average.

"(y/n), can you leave me alone to give my esposa affection in peace?"

" 'Esposa', yeah right" I scoffed, rightful title

“I don't know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours but dios mio, sure isn't working right.”

Removing the arm from around my body, he took his phone from his pocket and placed it blatantly on the armrest of the couch. Securing his hands on my hips he moved me to the kitchen island then on top of the counter. I stayed put like a porcelain doll in showcase— not that I hated getting treated by him the way he did. Elevating himself on his palms he rubbed the sides of our faces together then pushed himself into my neck.

“Miles, are you a dog?”

“Whatever you want me to be”

Laying down on the counter, his head was adjacent to my thigh. Wrapping an arm around the width he dragged me closer, diminishing any little space left between his head and my body. Placing kisses along the length, I tangled a hand into his hair, massaging and drawing patterns into his scalp. After some time my neck and back started to hurt, constantly I began to rub them and groan. Miles noticed from the glances he took every now and then. He mumbled something into my thigh.

“I'm sorry, I didn't hear you”

“Can we stay a bit longer—... please”

I passed him a re-assuring smile. Bringing himself back down he brought a hand of mine with him, toying with it and doing whatever. When I felt it lay flat on his face I assumed he had fallen asleep. Still, my body ached but I didn't want to leave him here by himself.

What could I do without him?

Shit.

After (what I thought were) three quiet yawns later Miles woke up, somewhat. I figured he wasn't fully conscious but enough to piece together the fact that I hadn't left even though I was still hurting. Sitting up, he flexed his wrists, arms, and other limbs, gathering strength before taking me off the counter and placing me on his bed. Instead of the usual hug as our sleeping position, he put a hand on my nape and lower back, kneading away more pain than I were aware of.

"Why didn't you leave?" I wonder

"I would've been bored alone"

"C'mon, you'd be sleeping"

I physically can't nor do I want to sleep without you.

Shaking my head, I held onto his shirt, initiating some type of contact before his hands were free. I looked up at him, completely in disbelief that once again, once more I fell in love with Miles Gonzalo Morales. And he's going to be my doom, I know it

Miless p.o.v

One, I don't think she realizes she said that out loud, and two, you know that feeling when your organs get flushed out and replaced with butterflies? That's basically how I felt. And believe me, half of the time I don't know what to say to her, whatever I say, I just do. She's perfect, mine to ruin, but I don't want to do that, I don't want to hurt her.

She's attached to me— deeply. While that may not be a bad thing, it isn't good either. I've studied (y/n) for a while within us being together, she's the 'i love you so that means I'd die for you' type but I can't let that happen. If anyone's sacrificing themself for the other its me— I wasn't raised otherwise, she hasn't taught me to love otherwise. Crucify me after for leaving my beautiful tesoro on the earth by herself, id deserve it. And I definitely think I'm the only one deserving of her.

Props to the jackass that fumbled, forever grateful to you.

Before I could answer, her hand fell flat against my chest, the warmth of it tugging me into sleep with her.

---------------------------------------------––----------------------------------------------

Waking up, I saw a blue sky instead of the black abyss I was accustomed to . This became a regular thing since I started sleeping with her— physically, not y'know, she says she's not ready for that. Often, I had to push back meetings and missions with my uncle because of it.

Shit, speaking of that, today I intend to ask my uncle for at least 2 months of off jobs, and I know he'll come through, hopefully. School re-opens tomorrow, and while it's my first time back, it'll be her first time ever. I can't nor do I want to miss this for her.

Getting up, (y/n) gripped tightly onto my shirt forcing me to stay down. They were just her reflexes coming into play, but I still complied, waiting until she was comfortable to get up. From what happened I do not want to wake this girl up again. She placed her head onto my leg, be it any other day I would've stayed until she woke up, but if I wanted those months off I'd need to get my phone somewhere in the kitchen.

------------------------------------------(6:37pm)------------------------------------------

With minimal back and forth, Uncle Aaron and I settled on 3months no jobs (he'd cover) with me coming in every Saturday 9-10, am to pm to keep overview on plan Burn Brooklyn. I promise it isn't what it sounds like.

Handing me my bag, he went behind his mini- bar and poured out something— Bailey's probably. Man is addicted to that shit. I understand though, kinda. What a time when he let me go through his cabinets after a fight with (y/n), I was a mess. She called me a hot mess.

Draping an arm around my neck, he noticed that unlike times before, instead of slanting downwards his arm tilted up.

"You're growing up, and fast Miles" Using the strength from his arm he turned us around to face the windows. Sunrises never intrigued me, but the sunsets were something else. He took a small swig at the cup before continuing.

"You're finding love, making it out, doing your best" I noticed hand movements from him at the corner of my eye. Uncle Aaron was crying. Uncle Aaron is crying.

"If I found a piece more of myself in you I'd say that you were just like me when I fell for yo—" He cleared his throat, stopping himself.

"You're not just doing this for us are you, she's involved isn't she"

I wasn't going to lie to Uncle Aaron over a question, I didn't even give him a answer to what he already knows. Despite the constant liquor intake he produced a smooth laugh, his hand repeatedly patting my bag.

"I like her a lot Uncle Aaron"

"Like is a feeble word for what you two have, we're happy to see you like this"

"we?"

"Rio and I"

So it's everybody in our business? Cool

--------------------------

I'd prefer above all things walking beside my love to go home like we usually do, but unfortunately he had to call out of school. Typical, atleast he trusts me enough to walk home by myself, and with what I've learned from him I'm sure to be alright.

"Hand in your pocket hermosa, the watch looks shiny and that's what they like out here"

"Walk only where I showed you, if not the safest area but it's safer"

And he's referring to roads nearby Aaron's house so he's always here and there if I need him. It's ironic that a "criminal" makes the city safer for me and not some superficial superhero.

Sudden thuds draw me back to reality, what the hell? I recognize that thing, it's what I came through— a portal.

Fada God.

Action resumes on the road adjacent to me, an escapee of some sort and someone running after them.

My heart and pace speeds up as I stare through my peripheral at the hero of the encounter. Those where they can peep from buildings, street corners and alleyways at the commotion. It's something no one has ever seen, except for a comics con nerd. I'm not one, but I know exactly who that person is— the figure and combat style is just too familiar.

Fada. God. Not today. Abeg. Please.

"Is that Spiderman? And not just any Spiderman… Is that thee fucking Miles Morales?"

-----------------------------------------

Still re-wrote everything cause life didn't end when Tumblr decided to delete it 🙂.

It's kinda short, but work with it until I can update more tmrw on it 🙂.

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