MY HEART OMGG

MY HEART OMGG </3 this was soo good tho

See You Again

Miles G. Morales x Black Fem Reader

WARNINGS: Angst , Sadness, Happy Ending.

A/n: Surprise Shawtayyy‼️ wrote this in like 20 mins 🫶🏽 I love it 🤣

A year has flown by since Miles' father and you, his girlfriend, passed away. Yet, the agony that gnawed at his soul showed no signs of leaving. His grief had descended into a deep depression, which soon morphed into a seething anger. His heartache only intensified as he struggled to make sense of why he had to suffer so much. Why were two of most important people in his life ripped away from him?

Sleep was now a distant memory, and he dreaded the thought of closing his eyes. Every time he did, he was transported back to a time when he was happy, a time when he shared precious moments with you, that only added to his already unbearable pain.

Miles found himself under the spell of his uncle, who had taken him under his wing, using his intelligence for nefarious purposes that he knew would have disappointed you. He was desperate to shake off the haunting memories that plagued him so he took up the mantle becoming The Prowler.

Tonight was like any other night. He slid open his window, using his metallic claws to pry it open, then climbed in, undressing before heading to bed. But as he headed towards his bed, something caught his eye - a glint of light that shone in the darkness. Curious, he approached the object and picked it up, examining it closely.

It was a necklace, one that belonged to you. The very one he had given you, the one that you had lost the day before you were taken from him. The necklace that he had promised you he would help you find the next day. Miles clutched it tight in his hand, feeling the weight of his grief pressing down on him. He slowly made his way to his bed, where he fell asleep, still holding onto the precious necklace.

As he drifted off, his breathing gradually steadied. He soon found himself in a dream, where you appeared before him once again, with your beautiful smile that quickly turned to a frown, your eyes filling with tears. He could hear your weak voice ringing in his ears.

"Miles....Miles, help...I don't want to......... " your voice trailed off the sentence unfinished forever. Miles jolted awake in his bed. His heart raced from the intensity of the nightmare that had just gripped him. He took a few deep breaths, calming himself down before reaching for his cellphone to check the time. It was already 8 am, and he had to get ready for school.

The rest of Miles' day went by relatively normally, until he was heading back home. His head was down, texting his mother about her picking up another shift when he heard it - his name being called. He looked around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.

He heard it again – that voice he would recognize anywhere, the voice he longed to hear once more. And there you were, standing on the front steps of his apartment building, waving at him before running over. Miles stood frozen in shock, unable to grasp how you were there.

"Y/n," Miles said, his eyes beginning to well up with tears.

"Hey, Miles! What did you do to your hair? Did your mom do it? I kinda like it," you said, unaware of the whirlwind of emotions that Miles was experiencing in that moment.

You looked just as beautiful as the day he lost you, your hair styled just the way he liked, with your signature pink hair in two puffs. Your lips glistened from your lipgloss, and Miles couldn't help but stare in awe.

Without hesitation, Miles quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, knowing that if he didn't seize this moment, it would pass him by forever. He hugged you tightly, squeezing the life out of you.

"Whoa, Miles, you're gonna crush me!" you said, giggling. It was a sound that Miles had missed so much, and it filled him with a sense of warmth a feeling he never thought he'd feel again.

You tapped him gently, and Miles reluctantly let go of the embrace, still holding onto your shoulders.

"Someone missed me," you said, smiling as your eyes zeroed in on his neck. He was wearing a chain, one that looked exactly like yours, but you had yours on your neck. You gripped your chain, feeling a sense of confusion.

"I didn't know you got a matching one," you said, pointing at the chain.

"Oh, yeah," Miles chuckled. "I thought it was cute."

"That's so cute, Miles," you said, before reaching out and intertwining your fingers with his. Miles' heart skipped a beat, and he swore his head was spinning. You were here, in front of him.

He looked down at your entwined hands, still in disbelief that you were really here. "Miles, are you okay?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as your eyebrows knit together.

Miles took a deep breath before he spoke. "Yeah...yeah, I'm fine," he said, trying to compose himself.

"Okay, well let's go. You promised me you'd carry me to the rooftop, remember? To see your new artwork." You reminded him, eager to see the artwork he had been working on.

You were right. He had promised to show you, but now, that artwork was different. It was a painful reminder that you had died, a reminder that you shouldn't be here with him right now. But he couldn't bring himself to tell you that. Not yet.

You snapped your fingers in front of Miles' face, trying to get his attention. "Miles, hello! You're acting strange today. What is it, my love?" you asked, your eyes searching his for answers.

"It's nothing, mi amor. Come on," Miles replied, his voice unconvincing as he grabbed your hand and led you upstairs. He dreaded taking you up there, too scared that you would leave him again. His heart raced with each step, and he couldn't shake off the sense of unease.

As you two arrived at the rooftop, Miles looked back one more time at you. Your face was radiating with happiness, just happy to be with him. The sight made his heart thump harder, if it was even possible.

He pushed open the door, the cool breeze hit his face. "Here it is," he said lowly, motioning his head to the mural of you and his late father.

Your smile instantly dropped, confused by the whole thing. "R.I.P? But I'm right here," you said, looking at Miles in disbelief.

"Miles, your dad," you whispered, your hand coming up to cover your mouth, your eyes filling with tears. Miles just continued to look down, staring at his Nikes.

You tried to speak, but nothing came out as you stood there, frozen, unable to comprehend the reality of the situation.

"You died, Y/n. Right in front of me, in my arms," Miles said quietly, watching a single tear splat on his shoes. He looked up at you, seeing tears fall down your cheeks. How he hated to see you cry.

He walked over to you, wiping away your tears, a small smile on his face. "You're too beautiful to cry," he whispered, grabbing your hands. "And I don't know if you're a figment of my imagination, if I'm dreaming again, or if I'll ever see you again."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with love and sadness. "So please," he said, closing the gap between your bodies, his hand on your waist. "Can I get a kiss?"

You nodded, and he tilted your chin upward, placing the most gentle, loving kiss on your lips. It was a kiss you wished could've lasted forever,

hii i really enjoyed ur miles 42 fic, was wondering if u could write something about reader and miles meeting for the first time? who was interested first🤭?

For the Soul (and the Heart)

Miles!42 x Fem!Reader

“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, i’d say”. “Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”

AHHH meet cute x simpy miles we LOVE

Miles getting comfy w reader and reader getting progressively more combative the more time they spend together bc they luvvvvvvv each other? perfection

please don’t read if you get uncomfy with suggestive content, nothing too bad but still suggestive!

The morning was still. An odd occurrence for a Saturday. The winter chill had settled the night prior and seeped into ever cracked windowsill.

Streets coating in a thin layer of snow and trees dusted with the same. And acknowledging this freezing weather, obviously you decided to go for a walk. Snow crunched under your feet as you followed street signs, the only thing telling you where you were going was which street looked prettier.

Eventually you stopped, hugging your scarf closer to your nose and looking for a stall or shop that caught your eye.

Eventually it did, a quaint cafe stationed between two clothing stores, relatively small and pretty empty. The outside was decorated with white Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers, flower beds filled with the pretty things. Contrasting to the deep Mahogany of the wooden shop. Which looking into the wide window, seemed relatively the same. Deep furniture with white accents and a soft yellow light dancing along shiny hardwood floors.

Swirling cursive words cut into the wooden headboard swinging from a chain outside the door. “Morales Coffee.”

There looked to be seven or eight people in there currently, for how inconspicuous it tried to look, the amount of patrons at such an odd time (10:42 AM, not morning but not afternoon either.), You’d assume that coffee has to be amazing.

The door bell chimed sweetly at your entry, Barista turning to greet you.

The sweet woman gleamed over at you for a moment, turning back to her current customer while he pulled out his wallet. You lined up, looking at the pastries lining the glass displays. The ones catching your eye a Raspberry Danish and a cute baby blue Lunch-Box cake.

The man had moved away, leaving it your turn to order. The woman smiled at you and for once, approaching someone in costumer service didn’t feel as scary as it should’ve.

“Hi, What can I get for you today?” The curly haired woman had a twang of an accent curving her words. And a motherly vibe about her.

“Hey,” You smiled back at her “,Could I get a regular Mocha—.” You paused to let her punch it in. “.—A raspberry Danish and your blue cake.”

You pointed vaguely towards where the blue cake would be to her side of the display. “Yes, of course! That’ll be $18.40, thank you.”

Whilst you pulled out your purse to pay and she began to retrieve the items. She spoke up again. “Someone’s birthday?”

You laughed, not expecting her to speak so suddenly.

“Oh, no!” A chuckle left your lungs “Just want some cake recently. Saw your shop and its cakes. Thought may as well get it while i’m here.”

She laughed along with you, snorting a little as she boxed the small cake in the cardboard lunchbox. “Seems reasonable.”

“Thank you.”

She grabbed your danish and placed it on the counter, putting the cake in a bag and handing it to you.

“Thank you, again.”

“No worries, your mocha will be out shortly!” The bouncy lady turned around, going close to the back of the counter and opened a door you hadn’t realised was there, talking into it.

“Bebé, hay una chica linda ahí afuera que quiere un Mocha. Ve a hacerlo para ella. Y no la riegues.”

"Baby, there's a cute girl out there who wants a Mocha. Go do it for her. And don't mess it up."

Miles glanced up in confusion.

“¿Pero porqué me dices a mi?”

“Why me?”

“Pues es linda, y parece de tu edad.”

“She’s pretty, and around your age.”

“Ma, porfavor.”

“Ma, please.”

“Go.”

“Fine, fine.” He raised his hands in defeat and Rio kissed his cheek on the way out.

You found a seat with a cute view of the street outside and waited patiently for your coffee, people watching to pass time.

There was always a fear of crime in your neighbourhood. The lack of supposed ‘good guys’ coupled with the city being run down by anyone who wanted to escape trouble. Once news broke out of the first robbery in Brooklyn, where no one was caught. It was immediately put on the radar for any criminal looking to live somewhere safe.

The Prowler had been changing that. Little by little the Panther-esc.. Anti-Villain was scraping through the streets of Brooklyn and letting his blood stained claws drag over those in his way.

People feared him, the violence he brought with him.

You thought he was the closest thing to a hero you were getting, so who’s got room to complain?

If he’s not going to do the dirty work, who will?

The chatter of other people in the cafe had gotten slightly louder, four more people walking in while you sat.

“Miles, la chica linda de ahí.”

“Miles, That sweet girl over there.”

“Sí mamá, ya sé.”

“Yeah mama, I know.”

The smooth baritones accent of a boy around your age caught your attention. The way his letters curled giving you a rush of something down your spine. You looked up when you heard feet approaching, seeing probably the most ridiculously handsome man you have ever met bring you your coffee.

The way his jawline sharpened at a point, braids lying on his shoulders just below it. His lips that seemed awfully soft for someone who probably doesn’t even know what chapstick is. Lashes fluttering prettily over his high genes cheekbones, accenting his golden eyes. Jesus christ he’s pretty. His lips curled into a smirk at your face, your doe’d eyes gleaming up at him. He had some sharp canines.

“‘S one’s yours, Miss.” He placed the steaming mug on your table and you smiled. “Thank you!”

“No worries, Hermosa.” He looked at you a moment longer before the sweet lady called him back to make another order.

“Coming, Momma.” He called back to her, turning back to you for a second time and adding.

“I’m Miles, by the way.”

“Miles.. that’s a cute name.”

His lips upturned again at the compliment.

You gave him your name, which he hummed at, repeating it and rolling it around his tongue. His accent was gorgeous.

“Hope to see you ‘round, [Name].”

You choked out a pathetic affirmation, “Mhmma.— Yeah, yep.”

He laughed lightly and dragged his fingers along the table as he left.

Like claws.

—

Two days later you were back. It was some of the best coffee you’d ever had. And the desserts were the same, most of the cake still sitting boxed in the fridge.

Also there was an added bonus, being the coffee house owner, and her son.

The boy was interesting enough to keep your attention, sweet to you but held a sort of curiosity about him. Like he was hiding something but felt no shame in doing it, that it was righteously excused.

And to be real, you were dying to hear his voice again. Two days and all that had been playing in your head was the way he’d said your name, let the word travel down to his lungs and breathed life into it. A longing into it.

Miles was about the same, probably worse.

You saying his name was cute was probably his new lifeline. The way you had said it so innocently, sweetly to the likes of him. A twisted, wretched man. You had him swooning faster than he deemed safe, his body was going into overdrive. He had watched you while in their cafe, having never met someone so.. untainted by the world. Someone so sweet who carried nothing but a childlike innocence in their curios nature. Nothing done out of bad faith or in vain. You were nothing like him, he adored that.

So when you came wandering back into his Mommas cafe, he hoped to every universe it would be something you didn’t stop doing.

“Ah! Miss, You’re back!” His Ma greeted her, watching as the girl told Rio her name, and his Mom in return.

You guys chatted idly for a moment, your expressions clear as day. He could read you like a grown man could read a picture book, so easy it would be insulting to present him with it, if the content wasn’t you. The brightness and easy nature of you was something refreshing, he would say his Momma was easy-going, but times had been hard lately and his family needed a cheering up. You seemed like the perfect candidate.

Sweet, bubbly and looking at him right now- Oh. He waved at you, shivering at the eye contact and watching as you smiled at him and waved back, hands shaking. He likes how nervous he makes you.

You sniffled a little from the cold, dripping your hand as his Mom room your attention again. She handed you a cinnamon scroll and you paid quickly, dropping twenty bucks in the tip jar and quickly finding your way back to your seat.

“Miles! Un Mocha regular porfavor.”“Miles, regular Mocha please.”

He nodded to his mom, like he hadn’t remembered from last time. Like he hasn’t watched as you enjoyed something he made you.

—

“Bienvenida de nuevo, Chiquita.”“Welcome back, Chiquita.”

Sitting in the same spot as last time, staring at the idling passer-by’s, the light of a Winter morning danced off the snowy ground and highlighted your face, leaving a soft glow in your eyes.

You turned to him, paying him your whole mind.

“Thank you, Miles.” He placed your coffee in front of you, slightly leaning over you. He raised his eyebrows and hummed. You inhaled quickly, breath caught in your throat. Now realising the proximity between the two of you. Not only that, but there was a sweet smell that followed him around, coffee and cinnamon. How fitting.

His voice had gone deeper, smoother.

“I’m glad to see you back here—,” He leaned back again, hand dragging the same way it had two days prior. Your slow blink and parted lips made a deep rooted part of him begin to blossom once more.

He wanted to protect you the way he knew no one else could, wanted to lay his Soul down for you. Let you trace the veins imbedded in his skin with your teeth and take as much from him as you could. Run him dry, let him owe you his life so he can die protecting yours.

The speed his infatuation was growing probably wasn’t healthy.

“Really?” Your sweet, breathless inquiry silenced that though.

“Of course, Mami.”

“I—,” You paused, picking at you fingernails for a moment “,—I like it here, a lot.”

You leaned a little forward in your seat. Pressing your forearms against the wooden tabletop and leaning on them. He watched your back drop into a small arch, and for his own health, decided to ignore it. “‘S very cozy.” You glanced towards the window again. Watching another lad and her dog pass. He watched you.

“Mm, it is.”

“And you’re here.”

He sucked in a breath, fingers twitching.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your gaze flickered to him once more and he held it.

He let his hand drift to your shoulder, rubbing it slowly while he peeled himself away from the table.

“I gotta go, Mami, but enjoy your time.”

“You too, Miles.”

“I’ll be working,” He smiled at you, a small thing.

“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, I’d say.”

He hummed.

“Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”

—

It had been around four Months since Miles had met you. And he was in over his damn head, not that he wasn’t at your first meeting. But progressively, over time, he’d fallen deeper and deeper for you.

Everything you did had him in a chokehold. The way you were so sweet with his Mom, or how even uncle Aaron liked you when he’d stopped by the cafe.

How you offered to help around with no pay, generosity basically leaking from your heart. When you would come over just to see him because you “missed his voice”.

Or would sit in his room and wait for him. If he ever came home late, injured from things you had no business knowing, you wouldn’t ask a thing. You stayed quiet, and patched him up. Let him rest his head on your collarbone while you softly rubbed his shoulders. Trying to lighten the weight of the world off of them.

Every little thing.

He was done pretending like it didn’t affect him. He could barely go a single day without you on his mind constantly, as if.

He knew you felt the same.

Still just as readable as your first meeting. He knew the frequent outings between the two of you were more than just friendly meet-ups to you. To him.

And when your gazes would catch one another, he’d try and tell you. Express without so much as a word how you were the only person he could do this with. The only one he felt comfortable to walk down the street with, and let you chat his ear off about any new movies you’d seen, books you’d have read.

He would let you sleep in his bed, bring little things into his room and give the bland walls life.

You had made a home in him. Cracked chips in his walls on by one until you’d found a single loose stone and happily let everything he’d built up fall just for you.

—

Miles had texted you around mid-day that he’d wanted to see you, in which you’d giggled at your phone dreamily.

Laying on your bed with your stomach down, kicking your legs like a girl gone stupid.

It hadn’t even been much to fret over, just a simple:

Can you come over later?

He had phrased it rather questioningly, but for no good reason. He’d known full well the moment he even insinuated you being with him, you’d jump at the chance.

And you did, swiftly replying;

okayyyy !!

I’ll pick you up at 7.

six…?

7, [Name].

>:(

Don’t be childish.

i’m nvr childish, see u at 6 C:

You got up, threw your phone somewhere on the bed and checked your, admittedly already-packed, overnight bag. Making sure nothing was missing before putting it at your door.

Your phone pinged again.

See you at six.

You smiled.

You spent the rest of that afternoon anxiously waiting for him to pick you up.

—

He showed up at your door five minutes late, greeting you at the door with a soft apology about the tardiness.

“Sorry, Mami. Took a wrong turn.”

“Don’t apologise, Miles.”

You smiled at him, stars in your eyes. He looked away for a second, a bit guilty for lying to you, but he feels it’s worth it.

“Grab your bag, ma. Let’s go.”

You hummed an affirmation, rushing to your room to grab the pink duffel bag.

You grabbed your phone off your night stand and did a double check for everything.

You walked out again, closing the door behind you. Miles was leant up against your doorframe. Forearm pressed on the wood and his torso stretched. A small sliver of his skin had peeked from under the fabric, you thanked the warming weather. Quickly averting your gaze, you noticed him watching your stare in intent, a curious smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“You good, Chiquita?”

“Uhuh—, yep. Fine.”

“Mmhm.”

You huffed out, pouting and pressing your palm to his chest, his very toned chest, and pushed back lightly.

“Get outta my way, lame-o, I gotta lock the door.”

He resisted for a moment longer, gazing down at you in humour. He trailed his hand up your arm slyly and pried your hand off his chest by sliding his thumb up from under your wrist onto your palm. Slowly pulling you off him.

“Maybe ask politely.”

You gave him an unimpressed stare and flipped him off.

“Miles.”

“[Name].”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s just a ‘please’.”

“..-Please, get the fuck outta my way.”

“Of course, Hermosa.” He snorted as he did.

You turned around, Miles still close to you in the cramped hallway, and locked your door.

You turned around, noticing his eyes glance up from where they were before and shot him a questioning look. He turned around and led you through you hallway, dismissing the look.

—

He opened the steel door to the cafe. The scenery of a rooftop garden with the same Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers up here as there were out front of the store.

Shrubbery lined the rooftop edge and the string lights hung from the veranda created an atmosphere that seemed almost cinematic.

“Jesus, Miles. This is beautiful.”

“Mm, thought you’d like it.”

“I do, so much.”

You stated in awe at the mural painted on a buildings wall behind the door. A man who stroke a resemblance to Miles painted surrounded by colours of any.

The moonlight basked against the neon colours, accenting the man’s features.

“My dad.”

Your gaze snapped up to him beside you, brows furrowing in a frown.

“I’m sorry.”

“‘S cool. Nothin’ you coulda known, Ma.”

He sighed at the image of his father, wishing him well rest.

Turning to you, he wasn’t surprised to see the greif in your eyes. He was, though, surprised at the lack of pity.

He was so used to having his far family whisper behind his back at how his soul had died with his fathers. How the light in his eyes had gone missing the day his hand had been forced, unable to get to his dad in time.

There was no escaping his death.

So to feel the understanding coming from you—. The confidence in your sorry but knowledge that pity would do no one any good, it was refreshing. Everything about you was.

He turned away from your watchful eyes, the intensity being unusual for him.

“Come sit, vida mía.”

You followed him dutifully, loyally. Like you had since the last Winter. Like you would continue for the next to come.

A set of pillows had been placed in the middle of the veranda. White wood covered in lively vines and the aforementioned string lights.

There was a layout of his pastries (which you had learned he was the baker of) laid out on a cotton blanket.

You sat on one of the pillows, legs crossed. Miles following short after.

“Oooh,” You begun to tease him “,This a romantic dinner date?” The tone of your voice was in jest, but when he had failed to answer— Your heart rate sped up and your face went hot to the touch.

“Miles? Y’know I— I was just jokin’—“ “If you want it to be.”

You stood stupidly for a moment, not quite reeling in his words like any other person would.

“Wh—.”

It was his turn for unsurity now, eyes dancing nervously between you and the skyline.

“No pressure, though. Just think it’d be nice.”

“It would.”

He refocused on you again, finding you already watching him owlishly. “Yeah?”

“Mm, we could—,”

He anxiously started picking at the blanket. Who knew someone usually so calm could be this nervous asking out the most harmless girl he knew.

“Try. We could try that, together.” You mumbled a bit, seemingly playing it off. “If you want, or something..”

“I do.” He gained some leg to stand on, finding it easier and easier as you spoke, your nerves somehow calming his own.

“I’ve wanted that for a while.”

“Oh good, cause—“ You placed your hand in your lap, cracking your knuckles. “—Me too, so. That’s good.”

He grinned at your awkwardness, knowing your lack of experience in the relationship aspect of life, this mutual agreement, instead of one asking the other out, probably hasn’t been an experience of yours yet. He liked he was the first.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.”

You puffed at him, punching his arm lightly.

“I’m never shy, that’s for dumb stupid lame people. And I am none of those.” “Oh, sure.”

“Wh— Sure?! Which one are you ‘sure’-ing? Dumb, stupid or lame?!”

“Uhuh.”

“Miles!”

“Keep saying my name like that, mami.”

“Oh my goodness!”

—

And when you both finally got into his bed, you’d slept tangled together like you had dozens of times before. But this time, Miles would grab your waist and pull you closer. Settle his face in your neck and trace his nose down the length of your shoulder, peppering a kiss on every inch of skin he could find, and you’d both finally felt sure.

Maybe people were right, maybe Miles’s soul had died with his father.

But meeting you, something new, something rejuvenating—.

It left him with a light he could search for, a new soul. A whisp of a being you’d taken from your own heart and placed in his. It left him breathless with life.

—

YIPEEE!!!!! another one 🗣️‼️

thank you to my translation helpers (bbgs) @kissmxcheek and @millyswife

(oh, wrong Miles! oops! 🤗⬇️)

٠ ─ BLUSH, BLUSH, BLUSH, YOU ARE NOW MY BIG FAT CRUSH . . . 𖤐 | j.g x reader

SYNOPSIS headcanons of johnnie having a crush on you :)

WARNINGS no specific race/age/gender specified. nothing explicit of any nature. lowercase intended. very loosely proof-read.

WC: 1028 >

. . .

johnnie's crush on you developed out of the blue, in all honesty. it wasn't love at first sight, like he was struck by cupids arrow. it was more of a quickly approaching train from a distance coming towards him while he was tied down to the tracks. it took him a while to finally catch onto his feelings, but once the realization hit, it hit him hard.

He was always attracted to you physically, but getting to know you more made that attraction grow emotionally as well.

. . .

He'd find himself thinking about you constantly. he'd wonder what you'd be wearing today and if anything you wore would correlate with his outfit so he could point it out. he'd think about you at gatherings when you're not there, always thinking about how he'd have 10x more fun if you were there.

he's always trying to strike up a conversation with you. if there's an opportunity johnnie can take to talk to you, he's gonna take it. sometimes he'll even approach you before having a conversation starter ready in his head.

tries to make you laugh. he'll do whatever he can to hear that pretty laugh of yours that he's grown to love. he'll embarrass himself and draw enough attention to form a crowd if it'll get a half-hearted chuckle out of you. he'll even bring out timmy if he really wants to force that laugh out of you.

gravitates towards you. at parties, or just friendly dinners, johnnie will always find a place next to you. sometimes he doesn't even try to, his body is just naturally attracted to your energy. most of the time he does look for you first out of the crowd, and if he can't find you he goes to jake and asks for you. on more than one occasion he's asked someone to trade spots with him to get closer to you.

plays with your hair. he does it unconsciously. if you're standing or sitting close by him he'll find himself zoning out and pulling on a strand of your hair, softly twisting and twirling it between his fingers. if you have boundaries on your hair and don't like it to be touched or just have really short hair, he'll instead substitute it for your accessories. tugging on whatever bracelet, belt, or necklace you have on.

talks quieter around you. whenever you two are having a conversation his voice gets significantly softer. he'll go from screeching at jake to whispering at you. his entire demeanor eases and he's suddenly right in front of you exchanging hushed whispers and quiet laughs.

avoids eye-contact. if you're someone that makes intense/unwavering eye-contact with people when talking, johnnie simply wouldn't be able to handle it. his eyes would dart in all types of directions before finally landing back on you, he'd only be able to hold it for so long.

protective of you. in any heated discussion johnnie will be there to back you up. if someone's talking shit he'd be the first to defend your name while insulting the person who's talking down on you in the same breath. if one of your friends are playing a cruel joke on you, he'll be the first to rush to your side and shield you from prying eyes.

creates a playlist for you. one of his most listened to playlists is the one he made for you. the title is your name with a simple black heart and the run time of it is at least 2 hours or more. if you recommend any songs to him they'll go directly into that playlist without fail. he likes to keep the playlist on a loop when he's doing mundane tasks around the house.

always finds some way to mention you. it annoys literally everyone with how much he brings you up but he can't put a stop to it even if he wanted to. the most random things could remind him of you and some poor soul has to be stuck with him fawning over you again because somehow an empty baskin robbin's cup in the middle of a parking lot reminded him of you.

indulges in your interests. if you loosely mention that you're interested in something, johnnie will go into full research mode and figure out the lore behind whatever game/movie/tv show/book you're interested in. anytime you have a conversation about that topic he'll bust out a random fact in hopes that it'll impress you.

genuinely wants your opinion on things. he cares about your point of view on things, so it's only natural that he goes to you for advice and to hear your thoughts on certain things.

a bit more affectionate with you. it's the little things that someone would really have to pay attention to take notice of. his affections simply include fixing your jacket that's sliding off of your shoulder, pulling your hair from under your jacket, putting an arm out in-front of you if you've ever came close to running into someone, asking if you've eaten, letting you fall asleep on his shoulder on long car rides, etc . . .

responds to all the tik toks you send. you could send 20+ tik toks over the course of an afternoon and he'd watch every single one of them, responding to each of them with either an emoji or a drawn out text. it might take him a while to respond to all of them but he will eventually.

always picks up your calls. it doesn't really matter where he is or who he's with, if you're calling he's gonna answer. he could be mid-shit on the toilet or at a loud overcrowded party with blasting music, it doesn't matter. he'll always answer even if the call ends up being just 2 minutes because you wanted his opinion on what shoes you should wear. he'll never regret answering the phone for you.

waits patiently for you. even though you might not return his feelings, he still has love for you. he will patiently wait for you as long as he needs to if it meant you'd return his affections at some point.

. . .

i haven't written a fic in so long and just busted this out in my sleep deprived state lol. if anyone has any requests or ideas they'd like to see me write out please let me know! :) i'd be happy to take requests and i hope you guys enjoyed this small fic. <3

hi 👋 can you please write some headcanons about johnnie at the start of a relationship? I read the other two johnnie fics and they're amazing 👏

thank you for your request, you can find the fic here !! :)

— matching nails

pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader

summary: you ask miles if the two of you can paint your nails a matching color. wc: 476

contains: fluff, slightly posessive!miles

word bank: “princesa” - princess

you’re seated sideways in your boyfriend’s lap with your legs hung over his, trying— and failing to convince him to participate in a cute couple’s idea you found on tiktok.

“hell no.” the rejection comes even faster than you’d expected, a glum frown turning the corners of your lips downwards. you pout up at miles disappointedly, who is somehow still unmoved by your used-to-be undefeated persuasion tactic.

“but-“ you start.

“nah, no way princesa.” he interjected firmly, his fingers warm where they rested, curled over the skin of your exposed waist just beneath the hem of your crop top. “trippin’.” his chuckle lacked a single shred of humor.

you huffed, arms crossing and eyes rolling. “it’s just nail polish, miles, it’s not that big of a deal. you don’t wanna match with me?”

“shit, we can match some jordan’s. just lemme know what pair you want.” he snorted, finding your little tantrum adorable.

he obviously wasn’t taking you or your idea seriously, so you simply shrugged your shoulders and sighed dramatically. “fine, i’ll just ask someone else to do it with me then.” you mumbled, moving to stand up as you reached towards the desk for your phone.

“who?” his brow quirked, the vagueness of your statement peaking his interest almost instantly.

“chris.” you stated casually, his hand dragging down your hip as you moved out of reach.

“chris?” he parroted, the sound of the name drawn out in disbelief as it expelled from his mouth. the drastic change in his expression paired with the incredulous tone of his voice was comical, and you had to restrain yourself from laughing at his reaction to the mention of your made-up-guy-friend. “who the hell is chris?” his two braids draped over his shoulders when he sat up, forearms perched on his basketball short-clad thighs as he suspiciously watched you unlock your phone without answering him.

he kissed his teeth and impatiently leaned forward, his pointer finger hooking onto the belt loop of your jean shorts to swiftly yank you back over to him. with a squeal you stumbled back into his lap, your phone snatched from you at the speed of light and tossed over onto your bed a few feet away, your mouth slightly agape and hands still in the shape of what they were previously holding.

“you play too damn much.” his voice was low, brooding as he stared daggers into your eyes. “so who’s your lil’ friend? chris, right? he go to your school? you never mentioned him to me before.” once the questions started coming and his head tilted to the side with that familiar glint in his eye, you knew better than to keep the gag going, even if it was fun to see him squirm.

you shifted in his lap as your legs swung back and forth, an attempt to distract him from the playful smirk that threatened to expose itself on your expression, but he saw it anyway as you quickly shook your head. “no, baby, i was just kidding.”

“aw yeah, that’s what i thought.” he huffed out what was meant to be a laugh, sizing you up with a brief warning glance. you could tell he was thinking it over, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek when he glanced away, and a smile slowly grew on your face as he exhaled a heavy sigh. you always got what you wanted.

“show me the color you want us to do, mama.”

— extra scene

a/n: nah cause just imagine miles leaving with his uncle for a job, and as he goes to slide his mechanical gauntlet on, Aaron catches a glimpse of his nails and is like ??? 😭 imagine getting your ass handed to you by the prowler and bro has hearts painted on his nails

“hold on, lemme see your hand.”

it’s not like he had a choice, seeing as his uncle was already reaching for his wrist. miles wanted to stop him, but he knew it was no use, his hand limp in his uncle’s hold as it was pulled forward and brought closer for inspection.

“the hell you got your nails painted for, man?your girl made you do this or sum?” with an eyebrow raised he studied his nephew’s camouflaged expression, laughter tumbling from his lips when the boy grumbled a quiet ‘chill’, snatched his arm back and let his mask close over his face to hide the subtle tint of embarrassment blossoming on his cheeks.

- please do not copy, plagiarize, or repost my works to other platforms.

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!

hi hi✨

i rlly love your writing it’s so good😭

can i request something with johnnie? reader is a famous singer and she writes a love song about him (something like pov by ariana or love songs by maggie lindemann) and like his reaction to it?

hope you’re doing well<3

you can find your request here !!

thank you so much for requesting anon! i really hope you enjoy it. instead of pov by ariana or love songs by maggie, i decided on pretty boy by the neighbourhood, i hope you don't mind. ty so much for the sweet comments and i hope the same 4u <3 :)