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nereidprinc3ss · 7 days

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strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf.

Stupid scarf, you think.

Stupid door.

Stupid wind.

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient.

You look at the stack of papers and sigh.

Stupid Lord Byron.

Stupid cafe.

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly.

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable.

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust.

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance.

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once.

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café.

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk.

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor.

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here.

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up.

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you.

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that.

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing.

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out.

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles.

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go.

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone.

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot.

“How did you do that?”

His cheeks turn slightly pink.

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack.

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently.

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble.

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look.

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels.

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second.

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself.

He was totally in love with me.

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again.

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while.

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it.

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café.

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout.

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer.

Spencer. Spencer.

It feels important.

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away.

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you.

Spence.

Reality sets in.

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk.

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away.

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way.

“Who was that?”

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in.

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up.

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality.

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character.

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination.

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression.

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading.

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more.

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table.

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin.

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real.

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed.

Adorable? Get a grip.

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges.

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley.

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents.

So that’s cool.

You’re cool with that.

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer.

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers.

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet.

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again.

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it.

Nah. Boys are dumb.

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it.

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone.

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line.

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it.

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second.

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless.

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long.

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh.

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard.

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid.

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice.

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again.

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible.

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air.

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company.

But his job is important.

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present.

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer.

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits.

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly.

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm.

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now.

“I would.”

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted.

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair.

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles.

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way.

He says none of that.

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards.

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair.

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute.

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper.

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird.

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic

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micamone · 1 year

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robbie stacey valentino's only crimes were being a teenager, and being an antagonist in a story told from a sweaty childs point of view

#look at me. listen to me. im speaking right to you. is rhis thing fucking on #robbie is my son and people are messy and shitty anD HES A KID!#ive known people that are like what the fandom likes to make robbie out to be. and he is not them buddy #btw they never were rivals dipper wasnt even in the game like he pretended to be #and robbie wasnt worried about dip ''taking'' wendy in a romantic way - he was worried about sharing his gf's time with anyone.#cause hes a stupid teenager.#i know youre out there i can hear you breathing. hello???#my posts #anyways i could write an articulate thing about this sometime and how all the main and secondary characters and PEOPLE are messy #but ppl have already done that for mabel and ford and probably dipper too and im too tired #plus despite how MUCH i type on my phone i still dont like doing it. so it'll wait till at least my computer is back up #if it ever happens (it probably wont. i keep away from this sort of drama usually on purpose)#im just having a moment

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kombuuuu · 11 months

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Miles 42 headcanons?

no one asked but i’ll deliver !!

Miles!42 x Fem!Reader random headcanons

also a lot of snippets :)

You/Reader: Blue

Miles Morales: Purple

Mama Rio/Rio Morales: Pink

Uncle Aaron/Aaron Morales: Orange

Random/stranger: Black

—

gift giving love language duhhh

Will have you walk with him through malls and whatever you look at for a second too long he buys

You don’t catch on until you’re both eating at a nice restaurant, absentmindedly staring at some plant when a lull in conversation happens.

He purchases the plant.

“Fuck you mean I can’t buy it?”

“Sir, the plants aren’t for sale, this is a dining establishment.”

“Establish the fact I’m gettin’ that plant.”

“Sir—“

50 bucks down and a plant 🆙

He will damn right die if you refuse him. He’ll get all grumpy and pouty when you say he should save for a house, not for you.

convinced you just get shy when bought things (you do).

is even more motivated to buy things

“Miles, baby, you need to save up. Not spend on me!”

“This would look so good on you, Ma.”

“Are you listening??”

“Fuck, and this.”

“Oh my god.”

gets so jealous it’s unbelievable

but only when someone goes too far with you

it’s like 1–100 real quick

he’s not usually the prowling type (ha)

but when someone pushes the line he loses his shit

other than that he’s a supportive bbg all the way

“Wanna go home with me, butterface?”

“Fuck you just say?”

“Nothing homie just get outta here.”

“Say that shit again ‘homie’.”

“Chill the fuck out. Let the lady speak for herself.”

“I’ll fucking speak for my girl all I want, homeboy.”

maybe got a liiiiittle bit of an anger issue

guy went home with a broken nose and a missing tooth

better hope he can afford fill ins

he would never get mad at you though

he gets frustrated you don’t listen sometimes, but it’s never to the point of anger

feel like he has the patience of a fucking SAINT

calm and collected baby u know the deal

“Mami, we gonna have a problem?”

“”

“Didn’t think so.”

a SWEETHEART at times

stand by him being raised right

mama rio taught him to be a romantic

wanted him to take after his dad

so flowers and gifts and chocolates

followed by lovin of any kind

probably a baby for affection but doesn’t show it

so when you get all emotional about being gifted roses for the first time

and hug him and smother him

give him stupid little kisses all over

he’s fainting

poor boy doesn’t know love like u show him

“Baby, are these for me?”

“Yeah, Chiquita. They okay?”

“Wh… They’re perfect.”

“Are you cryin’? I can return ‘em.”

“No! No, no, don’t do that.

I love them, C’mere.”

when you guys get rlly comfortable, like a year and some dating, he ends up getting more chatty

willingly talking w you for hours

feels like you’re the only person he can rlly do that with

rambles so rarely that you kind of just sit in awe when it happens

doesn’t catch himself until he’s trying to name your future kids

“I’ll marry you one day, we’ll have like two, three kids. Get all nice an cozy.

You want a boy or girl? I kinda want both. Definitely not girl first, never having a girl without a brother to protect ‘er.

You’d be such a good Mami.

What’d you wan’ name ‘em? I have a few ideas—“

“..”

“But you could choose the girl cause I don’t know any pretty names. And i’ll choose—“

“..”

“You gon’ let me keep goin?”

“I love your voice.”

“Tranquila, mami.”

Takes you to every family event he ever has

sits you regularly with Rio and Aaron

they insist you call them uncle and ma

you do, obviously

miles doesn’t need to meet your family if you don’t want him to, but if he ever does he’s totally suave with them

like weirdly smooth

able to get on ur carers good side quick

when you meet his extended family they’re just as loving

his whole family is this bright dash of colour

and you fit right the fuck in

“¡Oh, hija estás preciosa!”

“Dice la estrella de la fiesta!”

“You flatter me, Hija.”

“Miles, come get your girl.”

“You look nice too, Uncle Aaron.”

“..Thanks, kid.”

“Hey Mami, havin’ fun?”

“Aight, I’m out.”

when you find out he’s the prowler you’re not really shocked

he’s hella nervous to tell you and kinda puts it off for a while

as long as you’re not in harms way, nothin matters, yeah?

the guilt eats him alive

he’s already lost so much, if he doesn’t do things right with you, then loses you too

he’d probably lose himself

so he tells you

“The Prowler?”

“Yeah.”

“The.. Panther guy I keep seeing on the news-?”

“Mm.”

“Miles are you—

..—Are you killing people?”

“Mami, it’s not like that—“

“oh my god.”

“These men— I kill,”

“Oh my god, oh my god.”

“,They’re bad, you understand.”

“Miles..”

“[Name]. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.. Yeah I understand.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.”

“…”

“Are you mad.”

“I’m not happy.”

“Okay.”

you’re kind of devastated he’s killing people

but you eventually get it

like it takes a while

say a month or so

but you forgive quick

i mean, who knows what those men are doing, right?

(ur delulu but it’s ok)

he lets you have your space but talking with mama rio when she realises your absence knocks some sense into him

mans is going to GROVEL

he will fucking beg on his damn knees

knocks on your door and is already kneeling

will plead with you to come back to him

like i said a whole ass romantic

you know what’s romantic? a man who can get on his knees

he will suffocate you in gifts and affection

oh you like (insert sanrio esc character) ? look over there at that lifesize plushie woahhhh wonder who that’s forrrrrr

“Hello?”

“Mami, don’t close the door.”

“Miles, go home.”

“And please stop kneeling, the floor is dirty.”

“I’m not leaving ‘til you hear me out.”

looooong sigh

“Okay, fine— whatever, come inside. You have two minutes.”

“God, I missed you. You’re so beautiful Chiquita.”

“Three minutes.”

You talk it out easy, he’s a real smooth talker when he wants to be

“Okay Miles, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”

“Yeah, Ma. See you soon.”

“Wh—.. What is that?”

“Ohhh…”

“Why the fuck is it so big?”

“It said “Life Size” on the site? I was thinking like two feet tall.”

“You bought that?”

“Yeah.. I was thinkin’ you wouldn’t let me in. Would have to bribe you.”

“…That’s really cute.”

Annnnnd that’s all i can come up with i’ll probably do more later :P

#miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #rio morales #uncle aaron #aaron morales #into the spider verse

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augustinewrites · 11 months

Text

tsumiki asks the question on a rare, relaxed saturday afternoon. with both the kid’s baseball games canceled due to some heavy morning rain, the four of you were taking the time to do some much needed relaxation.

“how did you guys end up together?”

satoru lifts his head from your lap, where you’d been plucking his brows. “isn’t it obvious? it was due to my roguishly handsome good looks and sharp comedic wit.”

megumi scoffs from his spot on the armchair. “i doubt that.”

you press your cheek against your boyfriend’s shoulder, laughing. “that’s cute, babe, but do you want to tell them how it really happened? or should i?”

“i’ll tell them,” he volunteers. “because i have been in love with you a lot longer than you might think.”

_____

satoru meets you when he’s seventeen years old. (it’s a stupid age. ‘cause when you’re seventeen, you’re all hormones and ego and think the world revolves around you.)

so he doesn’t pay you much mind when yaga first introduces you to his little class, because honestly? he’d taken one look at you, fresh out of the countryside with your perfectly pressed uniform, not a hair out of place or a battle scar on your body and was extremely underwhelmed. so he’d brushed you off like lint on his sleeve, because he doubted you’d even survive the year. no point in getting to try and know you.

that same afternoon, you’d unleashed hell on him with your shikigami and almost broken his nose.

“i’m sorry,” you’d muttered when you’d forcibly accompanied him to the infirmary.

“you don’t sound sorry,” he’d huffed. his nose (and his ego) were definitely bruised.

you rolled your eyes and muttered something that was probably really mean under your breath. he’s about to tell you off when he feels blood start to drip again, cursing and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tilts his head back.

“you’re supposed to tilt your head forward,” you sigh, handing him another folded up piece of paper towel.

he doesn’t take it, glaring down at you. “why would i do that?”

shoko and geto walk behind you both, highly amused by your bickering. “they’d be good together, don’t you think?”

“if they don’t kill each other first.” the latter chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he eyes you both.

“if you tilt your head forward, then the blood drips out and not in–”

“why? that’s where the blood is supposed to be.”

“no, it’s not, and if you’d just let me finish what i was saying instead of interrupting me–”

it’s not the last time he interrupts you. it’s not the last time the two of you bicker or the last time he walks with you through the courtyard. days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, and even though you’d almost broken his nose that first day, he quickly realizes that he couldn’t imagine you anywhere but with him.

_____

it’s late when he sneaks out of your room, sunset streaming through the courtyard as he peeks around the corner, on the lookout for any faculty before he dashes back to the boy’s dorm…

…only to run into geto, who’s standing outside. he feels bad for a second, because they haven’t really talked since…well, everything.

but he just flicks his cigarette, grinning in that all too knowing way of his. “what were you doing in the girl’s wing, creeper?”

“nothing,” he lies, but his cheeks are warm, there are butterflies in his stomach, and he can’t seem to stop smiling.

his best friend looks at him. really looks at him. “oh, man. you’re so obvious.”

“i’m not obvious, you’re obvious,” he retorts.

geto takes another drag before holding it out to him. gojo shakes his head. “you’re one of the smartest, yet dumbest people i know. so i’m going to help you now, because i think without guidance, you are capable of making extremely rash romantic decisions.”

“that’s not true–”

“it’s very true. like that fact that you’re in love with…” geto nods his head towards the girl’s dorm, grinning.

he tucks his chin under the collar of his jacket when he feels heat crawl up his neck, looking away. “that’s ridiculous. i’m not…it’s not like that. we’re just…hanging out.”

“really?” his friend checks. “because the way that you look at her, i mean…wow. we’ve all seen it. you look at her like you hear tiny forest animals singing whenever she walks into a room.”

satoru bristles slightly, because he’s not entirely off the mark.

(but seventeen is a stupid age, and at the time he knew he cared for you deeply, but he didn’t know he loved you yet.)

geto knows though, and just shrugs. “i know you’ll see it someday too.”

_____

“do these shoes go with my outfit?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.

gojo shrugs, hardly even glancing up from his phone. “sure.”

“you didn’t even look!”

he exhales a harsh breath, tossing his phone onto your bed as he looks up at you. “why are you trying so hard for some guy you don’t even like? i mean– have you even met him?”

“no,” you sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress. “but me meeting him is really important to my father.”

he leans back against your headboard, folding his hands behind his head. “why?”

“because a proposal from the kamo clan is a really big deal.” you startle when he sits up so fast that his glasses fall from their perch atop his head. “oh my– what’s wrong?!”

“everything about that sentence. a proposal? as in to be wed?”

“yes, gojo,” you confirm, turning back to adjust your earrings in the mirror. “i was born outside of the zen’in clan, but i have their inherited technique. my dad…all these years he’s worked hard to keep me off their radar so i wouldn’t be stuck there. so i wouldn’t be unhappy like he was. if i accept this proposal and join the kamo clan…all his hard work wouldn’t be for nothing.”

“the kamo clan,” he repeats, shaking his head. he’s not sure why he’s so annoyed. it’s hard to pinpoint the exact reason. “they’re based in kyoto. you’d– you’d have to leave.”

he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but all the unsaid things that he’s been too scared to admit to himself (and especially to you) must be written all over his face, because you hesitate before you step out the door, looking back at him hopefully.

“have fun,” is all he says instead, pretending not to notice when your expression falls. “i’ll probably be out when you get back, but just text so i know you’re alright and haven’t already been whisked off to kyoto.”

_____

“but you never joined the kamo clan,” tsumiki notes, sending you a questioning look. “why did your dad to change his mind?”

“i…actually still don’t know,” you admit, smiling softly. “he’s never told me.”

“well, whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter now. ‘cause you’re right where you’re supposed to be,” satoru grins. he presses a soft kiss to your lips, but pulls back with a laugh when the kids groan loudly. “on that note, i’m going to start cleaning up.”

megumi, who’d been silent the entire story, gets up to help, trailing after him into the kitchen.

“it was you,” he says once you and tsumiki are out of earshot.

satoru sets the stack of plates on the counter, glancing over his shoulder at him. “hm?”

“you made some kind of deal with her family, didn’t you? like you did for me.”

he doesn’t answer right away, moving leftover vegetables into a container. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

besides, that was then and this was now. he’s older and wiser and he knows that he’s loved you since he was seventeen years old.

_____

your father seems taken aback, and not just because satoru gojo was standing in his study, but because of what he was proposing. “excuse me?”

blue eyes land on a photo of you on your father’s desk. you’re cherished here. loved. letting you go must be hard, even if it’s for your own good. “you want to keep her away from the zen’in’s right? if she joins the gojo clan, we’ll make the idea of even coming near her radioactive.”

“but the only way to do that is–”

“marriage. to me, specifically,” he finishes with an easy shrug, as if he’s merely speaking about the weather. “quick, easy, simple. now you can reject the kamo clan’s proposal.”

your father is a smart man, that much is obvious. he’s kept you out of the zen’in’s grasp for years, even after news of your inherited technique had spread. there’s no way he’d turn down a deal as good as this.

“i have nothing to offer you,” he says now, expression pinched. “no dowry, or things of the like.”

“i don’t need your money,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “in fact, i only have three conditions.”

gojo’s three conditions

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

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useramor · 2 months

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the thing that gets to me about buddie posts on here is that people will be like "look at them! friends don't do that! there is no platonic explanation for that" and well. friends do do that. their relationship is deep and beautiful and intense but their actions alone aren't exclusive to romantic partners. what — to me — makes buddie romantic over platonic boils down to their intentions. someone making their best friend their child's legal guardian isn't unheard of. but eddie did it and kept it a secret. eddie thought "this is the only man i trust with my son. this is the only person in this world that will hold my heart gently." and then eddie didn't tell him. that makes me crazier than the actual legal document. a normal friendship would discuss this. it'd be an open conversation. the fact that eddie can't bring himself to say it because he knows that what it means to him is too much to look in the eye? because he knows that telling buck about his decision would be the equivalent of bleeding all over the both of them again? that's what makes it romantic. eddie frantically chasing after buck's limp body after the lightning strike isn't necessarily because he's in love with him. plenty of really close friends would do that for each other. it's when eddie desperately tries to pull buck up to him instead of lowering him that makes it more. because eddie didn't climb the ladder to get buck down to safety, eddie climbed up the ladder to get buck to him. the desperation, the intent behind their actions, the way they can't look at each other when they're hurt because it's impossible to deal with even the idea of living in a world without each other says so much more than any of buck's acts of service alone. a best friend would help you take care of yourself and your kid after you have a mental breakdown, if you're physically injured, if you need help. it's the fact that nobody asked buck, it's the fact that he's the first person chris called, it's the fact that bobby didn't bat an eye, because of course buck's there to help eddie. it's a given. who else in the whole world would it be? because they're everything to each other. in a way that's just a little too much, a little too codependent, toes the line of friendship and lovelovelove a little too carelessly. they're not buck and eddie, best friends, they're buckandeddie, one word. and not because of any of action. because they're in massive stupid head over heels gay love with each other.

#i needed to get this off my chest please tell me y'all get this #because i see SO MANY people be like 'friends wouldn't do what they do!' and like.......yes they would #friends would do what they do they just wouldn't do it like THAT #thanks for coming to my ted talk #buddie

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sttm99 · 4 months

Text

Part 1

You were a serial romantic, Bakugo knew that. You dated like it was a sport; picking up dates and romances as easy as anyone he'd ever seen, regularly posting flowers and gifts on your feed, or sending him pictures of nice-looking restaurants someone had taken you to.

But he couldn't help but want to domesticate you. He wanted to make you his, wanted to be the only one to see your eyes heavy with lust, your body sticky with cum.

If there was one thing you knew about Bakugo, it was that he didn't date. He didn't get involved in relationships or any sort of serious romantic situation.

You knew that... so why were you thinking of him so fondly now? Bakugo wasn't some blushy virgin like you. You knew he's had flings, stupid hookups here and there. He told you about them, and he also told you how he was never interested in anything more.

So how could you let yourself have such tender thoughts about your best friend?

"So I ended things with him today," you said softly, sitting at the edge of Bakugo's bed.

You noticed that he's been more distant lately, spending less time alone with you and more with Kirishima and the other guys.

You didn't want to come off as clingy after what had happened in his room, so you said nothing, instead keeping your feelings to yourself. You two weren't together. He'd offered to give you tips, and that was it.

"Fucking finally," Bakugo scoffed, laying back on his bed with his back on the headboard, arms folded over his chest as he looked at you sitting on the edge of the bed. "I was waiting for when you'd come to your senses."

You hummed in affirmation, your eyes cast downwards, studying the hem of your shorts. You were stiff, awkwardly so, and you were never awkward around Bakugo.

The blonde boy couldn't help but think he'd messed up your friend by offering to teach you how to give head. And not even on your side, but on his.

He couldn't even look at you the same, his mind kept replaying that stupid, fucked-out look you'd had when you were laying between his legs. Then there were the fantasies as well; images of you, breasts covered with cum, his hard dick brushing up the crack between your ass cheeks, your stupid, pretty eyes looking up at him from his pillow in the early mornings.

Even now, as he subtly eyed you sitting stiffly at the edge of his bed, he couldn't help the desire deep in his gut.

"Oi." He called out to you, voice gruff and demanding.

Even your reply was awkward.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" He asked again, shifting forward so he was right next to you, his arm just behind your back, thumb dangerously close to your ass, and his shoulder brushing yours.

"Me?" You asked with him narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, you. You've been weird lately. What is it?" He asked again, a bit harsher this time.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and facing away from him. "You're the one that's suddenly so close with Kiri-"

"You've gotta be fucking kidding." He spat.

"You practically live in his room now. You're never here or in mine!" You fired back.

He leaned closer to you, craning his neck so he could look at your face. "You're joking, right? I'm literally always with you, YN."

"No, you're not, Katsuki. During class, you're sitting with him. During lunch, you're sitting with him. We're in the dorms, and you're with him again. Come on, after school was you and me!" You shot back at him, pushing at his shoulder, trying to get away.

But Bakugo doesn't budge, instead harshly gripping your wrist. "Cause you're fucking weird with me now. You're all off now, YN."

"Kats-"

"I'm serious." He interjected, pulling your wrist and getting you closer. "Since that shit happened, you've been weird with me, and it's making me feel like I messed up. I hang around Eijiro cause I feel like I messed things up with you!"

He's breathing hard now, staring at you intently, your wrist still being harshly gripped by him.

You're less intense; your bottom lip caught between your teeth as your eyes keep looking at his and away and you're trying so hard not to stare at his lips.

You're both silent for a long minute before he speaks up. "Is it that you regret it? We can forget it happened if that's what's bothering you-"

"I don't regret it, Katsuki." You quickly said.

"So what's the fucking problem?"

"I wanted more!" You harshly said, pulling your arm away. "I wanted more, but I didn't want to fuck things up cause I know you're not interested in that sort of thing."

His nostrils were flared now as he took you in. "Is that it?" His voice was low, husky, and he reached for your hips, his palm quickly grabbing the flesh of your ass and pulling you into him. "You're horny? You've been fucking weird cause you wanted me to fuck you?"

His lips were on yours before you could respond, hungry and desperate, hands quickly pulling your body into his.

"If all you wanted was some fucking dick, you should have said something." He spat out at you as he pushed you unto his bed, quickly climbing atop you.

This, this side of Katsuki, this hungry, carnal look, was something you'd only heard in conversation from the girls he'd been with. It was something you knew existed because of how he'd told you about his flings.

You never really thought you'd get to experience it. His lips on your neck were swift and rough, leaving marks and goosebumps in their wake as he trailed down.

"Fuck, Katsuki- wait." You tried pushing at him as his tongue made contact with the skin just above the waistline of your shorts. You were feeling too much in that moment; dizzy and clear-headed, horny and frustrated.

He shushed you, pushing your shirt upwards to your face, licking long stripes along the skin of your waist.

"I'm going to fuck you brainless," he whispered, other hand pulling down your shorts as you tried sitting up to stare down at him. "Gonna fucking domesticate you."

Moans and whimpers filled the room once he'd gotten your shorts off, proceeding to bury his face between your thighs. Your back was arched off his bed, thighs pressing on either side of his head as your brain went into overdrive.

He didn't even give you any breathing space, fingers groping at your breasts and tweaking your nipples whilst his tongue devoured you.

"Didn't think my bestie was so bratty when needy." He whispered into your cunt, tongue swirling round your clit, suckling and flicking the bundle of nerves. "I should've done this sooner instead of having you being some child."

You weren't even processing his words, just rutting your hips up into his face, fingers tightly gripping at his hair as you chased your orgasm desperately.

"Fuuck- fuck fuck..." you whined, tears pricking at your eyes, "I'm almost there- almost there, Katsuki." You kept sobbing.

"Yeah, cum for me, okay?" He whispered, his hands holding your thighs down as they quivered, sucking up your juices as they flowed.

Your orgasm crashed into you suddenly, your hand flying to cover your mouth as your whole body shook from pleasure. And even after you'd come down from the high, limbs limp and eyes shut, Bakugo didn't stop licking into you till you had to pull his head away from your cunt.

"You good now?" Came his voice as he got up, hands softly fondling your breasts beneath your shirt.

You whined, trying to curl up into his side. "I'm tired."

"Yeah, I figured. You looked like you were being exorcised." He snorted as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close.

"Will you shut the fuck up, Katsuki?" You mumbled.

He chuckled softly, stroking your hip as he stared up at his ceiling.

"So...?" you murmured into his chest. "It's not too forward if I ask what are we?"

Bakugo cleared his throat, adjusting his position. "I mean... I know I don't usually date..."

Your chest sank.

"But like, I do want to be with you properly. Like, take you out and stuff. So if you want that too... that's what I wanna do."

You smiled shyly into his rib, wrapping your arms tighter round his middle. "Yeah... let's do that."

He hummed with a soft smile on his face.

Maybe you do like him like that.

Tags: @bookcluberror @docufanfic @jesus-son-of-god @racoonkal @dreamingoftomorrow @blasphemet @outsidecow @aaaooz @room-of-rina @rebel-loves-anime @beezlub @somestardeww @touyasprettydoll @rosegardenpatsu @sirshartsalot @stylisonthings @small-and-violent @furblrwurblr @lifesucksweswallow @wr4inn @ourladyofdepravity @doverr @impossibleshoecalzoneflower @fadingpalacebonkpsychic @horrorcore2002 @trixabke @dinomeow @lynnsqueendom @tinyworld18 @melody-deathnote @urfavcalli @ghostreadersthings @antiwhores @heiqlwgvskz @thehonored-one @enchantingcrownbeard

#bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha bakugou #bakugo smut #bakugo fluff

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bokutosbiceps · 6 months

Text

bodyguard boyfriend

eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar d water law/vinsmoke sanji x gn!reader | fluff | ~900 words

warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit, cursing

a/n: okay, this was heavily inspired by @pileofmush because she wrote such a beautiful match up for me + zoro that i started to think about how some of my fav boys would be protective over their s/o !! this is more comedic than romantic but i had such a good time writing it :3

18+ MDNI

eustass kid isn't afraid to straight up tell someone to fuck off. he’ll sneer at them through gritted teeth as he stands behind you, keeping a protective hand on the small of your back. if that alone is not enough to send anyone in a twenty foot vicinity scurrying away, he'll approach whoever has their eyes set on you.

“what the fuck do you think you're looking at?” kid will cross his arms and make himself look bigger, which really isn't necessary with his nearly seven foot frame. “get lost, you piece of shit, or i'll make you regret it.”

if this person isn't stupid, they'll immediately obey and never show their face around you again.

you're always oblivious to others’ attention, though, since kid takes care of it so quickly.

“where'd you go?” you’d ask, looking over your shoulder as kid returned to you.

“nowhere, doll, nothin’ to worry about.” he’d say gruffly before assuming his rightful place next to you and draping an arm over your shoulders.

monkey d luffy doesn't ever get jealous! he doesn't mind if you talk to other people who may or may not be attractive to you, and he doesn't mind if people blatantly hit on you. it's not like he’d ever really pick up on the fact that someone's flirting with you, anyway.

there are times when he becomes protective, though, and that is if someone is harassing you relentlessly, despite your attempts to free yourself from the situation.

he’ll place himself between you and the assailant, his arms outstretched as he herds you behind him. all he has to do is glare at them, and the cheerful boy who'd been by your side is quickly replaced by your strong and capable boyfriend, who’d fight the gods themselves to keep you safe and sound.

“leave ‘em alone.” he'd say lowly, and that's the only thing he’d have to do. afterwards, he'd wrap his limbs all the way around you and rub his cheek against yours, speaking to you in a soft voice but with a huge grin on his face to try and cheer you up.

“you doin’ okay? i got rid of ‘em for ya. you'll never hafta worry about ‘em again!”

roronoa zoro is hyper aware of all of his surroundings. every time you're in public, he notices anyone and everyone who happens to even look in your direction. you'd never know it, though, since he's always good at keeping his cool and aloof in most situations.

“i don’ like the way that person is lookin’ atcha.” zoro would grunt, keeping one hand on his swords and the other wrapped around your waist, fingers pressing into your skin.

“ro, there's no one looking at me. calm down.” you'd say with a chuckle. “be my boyfriend, not my guard dog.”

he'd narrow his eyes at you, a very subtle frown grazing his lips, but he'd comply nonetheless. you're right, after all, there's nothing to worry about.

so he'd just resort to being glued to your backside, hands on your hips and head on a swivel, glaring daggers at this person until they slink away. once they're gone, he'd smirk and huff a satisfied chuckle, letting himself relax as he rests his head in the crook of your neck and closes his eyes. yeah, he's not too worried about it.

trafalgar d water law doesn't typically get jealous. if he does, he'll hold it in his heart and let it weigh heavy on his chest and just send death wishes to whoever is taking your attention away at the moment. it's very easy for him to get you out of these situations, though. he doesn't really want to deal with conflict, he's too tired for that shit. so he has a very simple solution.

he’ll approach you and the unwelcome stranger, sighing and taking his hands out of his pockets.

“room.” law raises his hand, sending a devious smirk from underneath his cap toward the stranger. “shambles.”

and then the stranger would be gone, simple as that.

you'd turn to law with an exasperated look. “you just can't help yourself can you?”

he would just exhale a chuckle and pull you close with one arm, not saying a word.

vinsmoke sanji becomes aggressively aware immediately after anyone of the opposite sex expresses even the most minute amount of interest in you. it could be a smile that looks just a little to friendly or a glance that lasts a little too long, he's on it.

he won't let you notice, though. he'll keep his loving and cheerful demeanor, speaking to you in a sweet voice and continuing to call you by your pet name whenever you speak to him. but he's going to be stalking around you, blocking the pursuer’s line of sight with his body while keeping his hands on your hips.

“i’ll be right back, darling!” he’d tilt your chin up to place a sweet kiss to your lips before quickly approaching the stranger and grabbing them by their collar, dragging them out of the area.

he wouldn't physically harm them, but he'd shove them against a wall and threaten the fuck out of them. “if you ever so much as look at my precious y/n-chan again, i will personally deliver you to hell.”

then he'd be off, running back to your arms with such zest and sweet excitement!

taglist: @kingofthe-egirls @chopperwithouthishat @usoppsstar + mush but she's already tagged lolol

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dreamescapeswriting · 8 months

Text

Stray Kids Reaction || You're Friends And Calls You By A Pet Name

⤜MASTERLIST

GN READER

CHAN:

"Baby, can you pass me my laptop, please." As soon as the words registered in your brain you slowly turned to face your best friend who was now turning bright red in the face. Never in the six years of being friends with Chan had he ever given you a pet name like that, he'd given you nicknames but nothing that held any romantic significance to them.

"Baby?" You arched a brow at him, pulling his laptop into your chest and smirking at him and he knew by that one look he was never going to live this moment down.

"It just came out," He groans reaching his hands out to take his laptop but you tut at him and move away from his reach,

"I'm not saying I didn't like it," You admitted, making him blush even more as he watched you closely, whimpering a little when you finally handed him his laptop and smirked at him. You enjoyed seeing your friend so flustered over something as little as a nickname,

"It's okay sugar tits, you can call me whatever you want." You told him before winking and going back to what you were doing on your own laptop.

MINHO:

Minho was doing his best to ignore the constant teasing that he was receiving from each of the members but it seemed as though they were relentless. It had been over a week now since Minho had called you that stupid pet name and he was never going to hear the end of it,

"Kitten," Chan cooed in Minho's ear making you giggle a little at them, Minho was turning red in the face and you could tell it was angering him more than he wanted to admit.

"That's enough guys, It's not like you've never said anything embarrassing," You told them as you looked at Minho with a small smile, he gave you a sympathetic smile back and looked down at his phone.

"I've never called my best friend, "kitten" though," Seungmin teased, making you shoot a glare in his direction to which the young boy whimpered a little.

"Minho made a mistake, we all do...Now let's stop teasing him before he kills us in his sleep," You told them before smirking at Minho who cuddled closer to your side, leaning up so he could whisper into your ear,

"Thank you, kitten." He smirked against your skin as he felt the goosebumps on your body, ever since he'd called you that last week the two of you had been secretly dating...testing out the waters for what could be between you.

CHANGBIN:

As soon as the pet name left Changbin's lips he instantly regretted it, It was something he'd been calling you in his head but he never wanted to say it out loud.

"Baby?" You questioned, turning to look at him as he did everything to void your gaze. The last thing he wanted to do right now was screw up the friendship the two of you had created over the years, so he had a little crush on you he was sure it would disappear sooner or later.

"I don't know where it came from." He stuttered a little as you made your way over to him and sat beside him on the sofa, taking his chin in your hands and making him look at you.

"Say it again," You whispered as he scanned your face for any sign that this was something that made you uncomfortable but there was nothing, except for a look of excitement in your eyes.

"Baby..." He whispers back, your whole body shudders a little as you feel your cheeks begin to warm up.

"I like it." You admitted shyly, Changbin's heart was about to go into overdrive as he stared at you,

"You do?" He questioned, too excited for this to be seen as a nickname from a friend and you nodded at him, giggling a little.

"I do...Call me it again," You begged before he continued to call you by the nickname, bringing you closer to his body each time he called you by the pet name.

HYUNJIN:

Hyunjin had known you for what felt like forever now, the two of you were best friends always had been and always will be and there was nothing more to it than that. This was why it was so surprising to the both of you when he turned around and called you "honey bun", It led the two of you just to stare at one another in complete silence.

"I've never heard you call someone that," You laughed at him, his cheeks beginning to turn bright red.

"It's from this stupid movie I was watching," He groans, running his hands over his face just waiting for the world to swallow him whole while you continued to giggle,

"Aw, love bug it's okayyyyy," You teased by calling him a pet name back only to have a pillow launched in your direction causing you to scream out.

"Don't get aggressive with me because you want to call me a nickname love bug," You smirked before another pillow hit you square in the face.

"Oh, it's on!" You screamed before throwing it back at him resulting in a huge pillow fight in the middle of your living room.

JISUNG:

"Darling, can you hand me-" Jisung stopped mid-sentence as soon as he realised his mistake and it was like his whole world stopped still. You were staring at him with your mouth hanging open, your best friend's face turning the same colour as the tomato you were eating as he began to stutter a little.

"Jisung," You tried to plead as he continued to stutter and stumble over an apology to you, refusing to look at you and instead kept his gaze on the table below him.

"I didn't mean to, it just sort of flew out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop it and I don't want you to get weird about it but I realise by saying that I'm making it weird and I don't know how to make myself stop talking because now I'm ranting and-" He stopped when you held his face in your hands, looking him in the eyes as he finally took in a breath since he' said that whole thing in one breath,

"Jisung...Breathe, everything is fine." You told him as he looked at you with a saddened expression,

"I don't want it to make things weird." He admitted to you as you nodded,

"It's not going to...Just take some deep breaths," You told him as you did some breathing techniques with him trying to get him to calm down little by little.

FELIX:

You'd had a crush on your best friend for who knows how long but you'd done everything within your power to hide it. The last thing you needed was to fuck up a friendship that meant the world to you, you never wanted to lose Felix.

"Hey, babe, can you get me my hoddie from the bedroom?" Felix asked as you stood up to go to the bathroom. It might have been a small pet name but you were suddenly giggling and looking at him, your legs getting a little jelly-like as you tried to walk.

"S-Sure," You stuttered out, your whole body flamed at the thought of him calling you any kind of pet name and you continued to giggle as you made your way to his room in search of his hoodie.

"Someone's happy," Felix chuckled suddenly in the same room as you again, you clutched his hoodie to your chest and turned to look at him,

"You liked it when I called you babe?" He quizzes stepping closer to you, he'd had a feeling you liked him more than a friend and now he was positive thanks to your reaction. You nodded at him shyly and he smirked at you,

"Good, let's go back and finish the movie baby and we can talk about this after," He winks before kissing your cheek and taking his hoodie leaving you as a bigger giggling mess than before.

SEUNGMIN:

Once the pet name had been spoken you and Seungmin stared at one another. You were best friends, had been for almost eight years now and the two of you were close...closer than close. Sometimes you acted like a couple going out a lot, cuddling, falling asleep curled up in one another's arms so there was no wonder as to why a pet name suddenly came out of the woodwork.

"What did you say?" You questioned slowly trying to make sure you'd heard him correctly and he blushed a little, swallowing the lump that was in his throat.

"Could you pass me the remote, baby?" He looked you in the eyes as you smirked a little, leaning closer to him as your breath caught on his lips. Your eyes slowly fluttered shut as did Seungmins as he moved closer to you and closed the gap between your lips, kissing you suddenly. As soon as you touched it was like a jolt of electricity was making its way through your body as you shifted to be closer to Seungmin.

"I had bets on them secretly dating!" Jeongin screamed as he walked into the room to find the two of you making out on the sofa, causing you to groan and hide your head in Seungmin's neck.

JEONGIN:

Nicknames weren't something you and Jeongin had ever given to one another, not even silly little nicknames and yet here you both were staring at one another as all of the members stared back at you.

"Love? Have you ever heard him call anyone that before?!" Felix asked as they stared at you, your eyes were still heavily locked on Jeongin as he blushed.

"I don't think I've ever called Yn anything but their name," Chan admitted as you waved your hand at them, silently telling them to shut up about it. It was clearly making Jeongin uncomfortable as his cheeks began to flame and he looked around nervously.

"Forget it happened, it was an accident." You told Jeongin who was quick to meet you gaze and shake his head rapidly,

"No?" You quizzed, your heart racing at the thought of him finally wanting more out of your friendship than just a friend. You'd been crushing on him for months but but were too scared to ever say anything.

"No," He whined before grabbing you and kissing you deeply, your eyes widened in surprise before relaxing and shutting as you gave into the kiss your arms wrapping around the back of his neck and bringing him closer to you.

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