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yanderederee · 6 months ago

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Orange Theory

Bofurin Edition

concept: The Orange Peel Theory is from a viral trend where you ask your partner to bring you an orange. If they bring it to you peeled and ready to eat, it indicates that they're thoughtful and caring. If they bring it to you with the rind still on, it could indicate a lack of consideration.

a/n:I tried sticking as closely to their character colors as I could٩( ᐛ )و I also tried including as many characters as I could, even lesser written characters like Tsubakino/Taiga/Kiryu/lowkey Kaji too lol… I hope you like and agree!♡

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

Sakura Haruka

Poor boy would be so lost.

“I’m really craving an orange…” you mumbled to yourself.

“There’s some in the kitchen.” Sakura would reply casually, popping another grape in his mouth.

You’re silent for a while. Eventually he picks up on it and looks at you with a raised brow. “What’s up?” He’d ask.

“Can… you bring it to me please?” You’d ask. Sakura wouldn’t mind. He’d simply nod and hoist himself up, walk into the kitchen, and return with two unpeeled oranges. “I kinda want one too…”

He hands you one, distracted by the group chat on his phone as he began to peel the orange in his hand.

You were beginning to give up on the test, looking down at the unpeeled orange solemnly. “You haven’t touched your orange, you okay?” He’d ask, cluelessly.

“Im fine..” you’d reply, feeling silly for feeling so distant.

Sakura knows something’s up, so instead, he leans over, and takes the orange from your hand, replacing it with orange he had just peeled from his other hand. “If you wanted me to peel it for you, ya couldn’a said somethin’.”

Overall; 4/10. He sees you as a person who can do simple things for themselves, and may only feel the need to act more considerate if he notices you having a hard time.

Suou Hayato

The two of you decided on having a movie night at your place, and Suou thought it’d be courteous to bring a bag of oranges with him as a gift.

“You know what they say, oranges being good luck and prosperity.” (I was the one who wrote this and I still expected to proof-read ‘an orange a day keeps the doctor away.’)

Before you even had the chance to ask for one, he’s asking to use your kitchen to fix one up for you.

You agree, trying to watch him from the kitchen entrance. He smiles sweetly at you and politely asks you to wait for him in the movie viewing area.

It’s curious, but you do as he says.

He returns soon with a plate, neatly peeled and decorated.

Also asks if you would prefer a fork, if you didn’t want to risk getting your fingers sticky. It’s a little over the top, but he’s only trying to be considerate.

Overall: 11/10, He even saves the peels for Umemiya to use as compost. Encourages you to eat the entire plate, but will indulge in one if you insist.

Nirei Akihiko

Nirei asked if you’d like to binge your favorite show that night. As you both stopped by the store to pick up snacks for the binge, you remembered a couples trend, centered around the oranges in front of you.

You bought a couple, the excuse for them being one of your snacks for the night. Sweet Nirei praises you for making such a healthy snack choice, and even inspires him to put back some of his own snacks to live up to your example.

Just as you were about to begin the binge, you got very comfortable on the couch, and batted your eyelashes at your sweet boyfriend. “Can you bring me an orange please? I forgot them in the kitchen..”

Immediately agrees and hops up from beside you and to the kitchen.

He’s very happily humming to himself as he’s concentrating on the orange, walking back to the couch trying to get a good peel started.

Poor Nirei is so bad at it though, only able to peel off little bits of rind at a time. Half way through the first episode, the orange is crudely peeled, and he’s holding a slice out to you for you to eat.

Overall: 9/10, while its poor, he peels the orange with no indication you need him to, and feeds it to you one by one. ♡

Sugishita Kyotaro

Oh no.

Umemiya led you to Furin’s back yard area, eager to show you and Sugishita the fruits(haha) of his labor; a freshly grown baby orange tree.

Sugishita is immensely proud of his senior, and praises him for his hard work. Umemiya sends you two off with only one orange, since he needs to share the few he did receive from this harvest with the others.

At first, Sugishita doesn’t want to eat it. He wants to preserve it for as long as he can because it was something his previous Umemiya grew.

After a few comments like “It’ll go bad soon, you wouldn’t want Umemiya-san’s efforts to go to waste, would you?”

No way in hell would Sugishita allow that.

Sugishita hands you the orange, perhaps too nervous of accidentally crushing the fruit with his immense strength.

If you’re too slow on the take to peel it, he will accept the task. However, his worries are warranted, you discover, when he shares a slightly soft and dripping orange with you.

Overall: 5/10. He’ll initially wait for you to peel the orange, but he’s too impatient and will offer to do it instead. It’s slightly crushed, but that’s okay.

Hiragi Toma

You asked Hiragi to come over and help you with some yard work. Of course he’s happy to help.

During a break from the work, you lazily asked him to bring you an orange while sitting in front of the box fan.

He chuckles, kisses your sweaty cheek, and walks off to fulfill your request.

It takes him a minute, until he asks from the door way, “Can I go ahead and make some juice outta these?”

You blink wide at him, unexpectedly. “If… if you want to.” You mumble in response.

He nods, hustling back into the kitchen, before he begins peeling multiple oranges, and blending them up and straining them to make a fresh orange juice.

He returns with two full glasses and a half pitcher resting in your fridge. “You’ve worked hard today, hopefully this helps.”

Overall: 11/10, one of Hiragi’s love languages is acts of service, and of service he is to you all the time. Mr. “You want it? I got it.”

Kiryu Mitsuki

Sweeet sweet baby.

The two of you are just hanging out in his room, listening to whatever bedroom-pop song he put on while you both scrolled on your phones.

You come across the orange theory while on a social media app; and grin.

“Mitsuu~ I’d like an orange~.” You singsong to your boyfriend.

Kiryu looks up from his phone, and lazily hums. “Good idea~ can you bring me up one too?” He asks.

Your mouth almost hits the floor at his casual tone, but it ends when you see him hoist himself up from the bed, laughing “Just kidding angel~ I’ll be right back.”

Holding one of his many plushies close to your side, you wait for your boyfriend.

Kiryu returns with an unpeeled orange and a knife. The knife takes you by surprise at first, but once he sits at his little table and begins working on the orange, you realize he’s cutting it into sections with the rind on.

He offers you a slice with a lazy smile. Once you take it, he quickly pops a slice into his own mouth, making a cute wide orange smile.

The unexpected action sends you into a fit of laughter, your adorable boyfriend only grinning wider and blushing at how cute you are.

Overall: 10/10 I guess? He loves seeing you smile and actively does things to make you do so.

Kaji Ren

Oop

The two of you will be chilling on the Furin rooftop, enjoying the cool breeze and quiet hours, now that everyone was finally gone.

The only sound coursing through the air was the music escaping from his headphones, which lay carefully by his side, instead of his neck, so you could both enjoy the tune.

A bag of snacks lay between the two of you. You felt a bit peckish, so you glanced over at the bag and spotted an orange. Quickly, you get the idea to test the orange theory.

“Re~n, could you give me the orange?” You ask, feigning your inability to get it yourself as he was closer to the bag than you were.

Kaji looked over and spotted the orange from the bag. He reached over with ease and made a gesture like he was preparing to underhand throw it at you.

You quickly crossed your arms to show you did Not want him to throw it. He considered his options for a second, before huffing, sitting up, and leaning over so the orange was just a few inches from your reach.

‘Damn.’ You frowned. ‘Maybe this wasn’t the right opportunity to ask?’

Kaji noticed the disappointment on your face, but even after staring at you and trying to figure out what was causing your sour mood, he couldn’t imagine why. He gave you the orange just like you asked, and didn’t throw it.

“What?” He asks bluntly, causing you to flinch. “Nothing.” You replied back, closing your eyes to enjoy the evening breeze once again.

However, your answer was unsatisfactory, and your orange was left untouched. He really had no idea what he did wrong.

Kaji walks over to you, and squats to glare at you. “Quit lyin’ ‘n just spit it out.” He’d press. If you kept being stubborn, he’d just tickle you ruthlessly until he got his answer.

“T-the orange..! Aha—it, ehe… it w-was a test!” You yelped. Once you came clean, Kaji would stop just for a second to let you explain further.

Once you explained it clearly for him, his expression only soured further, tickling you even more sternly. You screamed for him to stop but he refused.

“That’s so dumb, of course I care about you. If you want me to peel a damn orange just say so, ‘n I’ll do it.” He huffed, finally releasing you and sitting by your side.

Overall, 1/10. Kaji is extremely caring and indeed will do anything for you, as long as he knows what’s expected of him. He’s doesn’t much appreciate his affections being tested in such a lame way though.

Taiga Tsugeura

Sweet angel child

You agreed to come over to his house and spot him as he did his usual muscle training routine.

Once he’s finally tired himself out, he begins talking about wanting a healthy snack. He’s going through the options he has while raiding through his cabinets.

As he does this, you notice a load of fruit in his fruit bowl. “You should eat a banana Taiga. Would you mind getting me an orange while you’re there, please?” You’d ask him nicely.

He grins as bright as the sun at your suggestion. “Great thinkin’ Y/n!!” He’s quick to grab both the banana and orange from the bowl. Before he can hand you the orange, his grin becomes more mischievous.

“Check this out,” he says with pride, holding the fruit in both hands. Then, with a quick snap, he rips the orange in half.

You’re BAFFLED. mouth agape and simply, STUNNED. Your shocked expression is all he wanted. He laughs hard, and displays the two halves face up, his own face in the middle.

“Cool huh!” He asks, before doing the same thing with the banana. “Want me to break the rest up for ya?”

Honestly, you aren’t sure what to say.

Overall: 7/10. He… does? It? But it’s more because he wants to show off a cool skill of his than he’s doing it for your sake. He also always asks you if you want him to peel your oranges, so… the thought is there.

Tsubakino Tasuku

Aaaaahh! (Post edited to use he/him pronouns)

You were cuddled up with Tsubaki in his bed after a long day. After a well deserved nap, you woke up when Tsubaki gently slid out from under you, assumingely to use the bathroom or something necessary.

Groggily, you reached out your hand, and whined. “Dar~ling~ ‘so snacky… can.. you bring me back… an orange… pleeeeasssse…”

Tsubaki thought you were the absolute cutest. “Of course my dove~” he would kiss your forehead and pat your hair down sweetly. “I’ll be right back.”

You fell back asleep, but when you did wake up, you saw Tsubaki only a few feet away painting his nails. “Ah! You fell asleep before I got back, you know!” He pouted.

You giggled an apology, and looked around for the orange you’d asked for. “On the nightstand darling.” Tsubaki helped direct you.

You are not expecting to look over and see a dazzling fruit assortment waiting for you. Halved grapes, thinly sliced strawberries, heart shaped banana slices, and bite sized mandarin oranges, all neatly assorted in a bowl…. With a sprinkle of sugar making the entire display shine.

You’re stunned, gasping at the beautiful display. “It’s so cute!! All for me?” You asked, glazed eyes seeking your partner out. He giggled back. “Of course all for you~ enjoy!” And blew you a kiss.♡

Overall: ∞/10. Are you kidding me? Tsubaki ABSOLUTELY would go ABOVE and BEYOND for the ones he loves, ESPECIALLY his partner. PUT SOME RESPECT ON BABE’S NAME RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME!!!

Umemiya Hajime

As much as your boyfriend wishes he could grow a fruit tree of his own, he knows that they take time. So, he settles for easy to grow vine fruits like Strawberries and blueberries.

He loves making you an assortment of berries, and presenting them to you with love. It’s so so very sweet.

ALWAYS encourages you to eat vegetables and fruits, even if you’re not in the mood for them. “They’re super good for your health y/n!”

So you indulge him.

When it’s you who’s asking instead, “Can you bring me an orange please?” He’s elated.

“YES MA’AM!” He all but yells, rushing to get you just that.

Umemiya returns with two imperfectly peeled oranges. He’s a little clumsy with it, but he’s just excited.

Loves sharing food with you and will hand feed you them like a goddess.

Overall, 12/10. The assignment is to gauge one’s thoughtfulness, and Umemiya blows it out of the water. He wants nothing but the best for you and aims to give it to you tenfold.

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hotshotsxyz · 16 days ago

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Hiii Abbie 💕💕💕

Buddie + “ i didn’t know where else to go. “

-❤️🪐

(buddie) (1.5k) eddie's pov before and after the events of this fic written for the same prompt! (technically i only used the line in the first one but oh well lol)

cw: vague description of a very bad car accident

Eddie doesn’t make a habit of watching the news. It’s depressing as hell, he runs the risk of seeing Taylor fucking Kelly on his TV, and if something he actually needs to know about is going on, he’ll hear it from Buck some time in the next few days anyway. All that to say, Eddie isn’t watching the news; he’s just flipping through the channels.

“Pick me, choose me!” Meredith Grey is saying in a rerun of Grey’s Anatomy.

click

“—low pressure system moving in from the north,” a meteorologist says on The Weather Channel.

click

“Alright boys, saddle up!” says the captain on that crappy network firefighter show.

click

“—multi-car pile-up on the 405. It’s unclear if—”

click

“—raw dough. It’s such a shame—”

click

“—urging drivers to avoid—”

click

“—looking for a loft in the city, while Jennifer would prefer—”

click

“—unclear if there are any survivors of the initial crash.”

Eddie puts the remote down. He doesn’t make a habit of watching the news, but every once in a while, something catches his attention.

The image on the screen is an aerial shot of a massive, burning multicar pile-up. The 136 is on scene, but they can’t have been there long if the size and ferocity of the fire is anything to go by.

“—compounded by the explosion of a tanker carrying gasoline—”

Eddie winces. They’re going to be there all night if they don’t get more companies on scene. He reaches for the remote at the same time as the shot switches from the aerial to a reporter on the ground. She’s not what stops him from changing the channel. The crushed and smoldering Jeep behind her is.

And it’s—there’ve got to be a thousand silver Jeeps in Los Angeles. And Buck wouldn’t—why would he even be on the 405? So obviously it’s not Buck’s Jeep, even if it is the same color and probably year. It’s just a shitty little coincidence.

An unpleasant pressure begins to build in Eddie’s chest.

He’ll just—it’s not late. He doesn’t even have to tell Buck why he’s calling. Eddie scoops his phone off the table, navigates to his favorites, and taps Buck’s name. The call goes straight to voicemail. Eddie frowns and taps his name again. He gets the same result.

“—and rescue is under way, but I’m being told that until the fire is contained—”

Buck’s phone is dead, probably. Or—or he took Jee to that movie he was talking about so he had to turn it off. That’s—he’s sure that’s it. Eddie rubs at his sternum and stands. He’s just… feeling a little paranoid.

He calls Maddie. She answers on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Maddie,” Eddie says, brushing a hand across the back of his neck. “It’s Eddie.”

“Uh, hey,” Maddie says. “Is everything okay?”

Eddie winces. “Yeah, I think so. I was just wondering if you’ve talked to Buck tonight.” He’s being ridiculous. Buck’s fine.

“No,” Maddie says, obvious confusion in her tone. “Why, did something happen?”

“No, no,” Eddie says. “I just haven’t been able to get ahold of him.”

Maddie hums thoughtfully. “He might’ve had a dental appointment earlier,” she says.

“Okay, thanks,” Eddie says. “I’ll probably just swing by the loft then.” There’s a pit in his stomach. Buck’s fine. At worst he has a cavity or two. He’s fine.

“Oh!” Maddie exclaims. “Hold on, let me check his location; I’ll save you the trip if he’s not there.”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. Duh. He has Buck’s location too. He didn’t even need to bother Maddie with—

“Nope, sorry,” she says.

Eddie takes a breath. He’s fine. Buck’s fine. “Maddie,” he says slowly, “where is he?”

“Um, as of twenty-eight minutes ago, looks like he was driving through Culver City, on the 405, I think,” she replies. “Eddie, what’s going on?”

“Oh god,” he breathes. He can feel the blood draining from his face.

“Eddie?” Maddie asks. She’s starting to sound worried.

On the TV, the camera zooms in and pans across the wreckage. It reaches the Jeep. Hanging from the rearview mirror is a bigfoot air freshener that looks exactly like the one Chimney gave him as a joke a few months ago. It’s—

It’s Buck’s Jeep. He’s fine. He has to be fine.

“—understand that search and rescue efforts are underway, but as of right now, no additional survivors have been located.”

He could be dead.

Eddie’s knees give out beneath him. He lands heavily on the couch.

“Don’t turn on the news,” he says.

“What? Why?” Maddie asks.

“There was an accident on the 405,” Eddie replies mechanically. “I think it might be bad.”

On the other end of the line, Maddie sucks in a sharp breath. “Eddie—”

“It’s his Jeep,” Eddie says.

He’s okay.

He has to be okay.

He’s not okay.

He could be dead.

“I have to call Bobby,” Eddie realizes aloud. “He can—he can get in touch with IC.”

“Okay,” Maddie says shakily. “Okay. I’m going to call Sue. Maybe she—” Maddie cuts herself off with something like a gasp.

“I’ll call you when—” if “—I get ahold of him,” Eddie promises.

“Same,” Maddie replies.

They end the call without a goodbye.

Eddie tries Buck again, just in case. He doesn’t answer.

He can’t—

Buck has to be okay.

He has to.

Eddie takes a steeling breath and calls Bobby.

…

Eddie’s crawling out of his skin. The captain of the 136 has him on hold, and that’s already more than he’s obligated to do but—

But it’s Buck and Eddie’s fucking terrified.

The longer he waits, the farther afield his imagination goes.

He’s got a broken leg and a concussion; they’re taking him to Cedars-Sinai.

He wasn’t conscious when we found him. They’re airlifting him to UCLA.

I’m sorry, Diaz. He was DOA.

Eddie paces back and forth and tugs at his hair. He needs to do something, anything! He needs—

Flashing blue and red lights filter in through the window.

He’s dead.

He’s dead, and this time Eddie wasn’t there to coax him back.

He’s dead and they sent an officer to tell him in person and Eddie’s never going to catch his breath because Buck’s the one that taught him how to breathe after—

There’s a knock at the door.

He can’t do this. Eddie can’t do this. He can’t—

How is he supposed to go to work without Buck? How’s he supposed to tell Christopher? How is he ever going to get up in the morning again? How is his heart supposed to keep beating in a world devoid of Evan Buckley?

He opens the door.

His phone clatters to the floor.

“Buck,” he sobs.

…

Eddie watches the slow rise and fall of Buck’s bruised chest as he sleeps.

He’s alive.

He’s okay.

He’s got tangible proof right in front of him, but—

Eddie reaches out and brushes an errant curl from his forehead.

Buck is alive and breathing and sleeping in Eddie’s bed and he’s okay. But Eddie—

He rests his palm on Buck’s sternum and counts each inhale.

Buck’s here. He’s fine. Maddie knows and Bobby knows and Eddie’s got the living proof right in front of him, but—

Eddie shuffles a little closer until the heat of Buck’s skin is overwhelming against his own. He hooks his chin onto Buck’s shoulder and tries to memorize the strange shadows and highlights that are painted on his skin by the light of the moon.

He’s alive.

He could’ve—

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and shudders.

Buck’s alive and he’s right here, but Eddie can’t quite escape the moment when he was certain neither of those things would ever be true again. His breathing goes a little ragged, and his hands curl into fists.

“Eds?” Buck mumbles, eyes still closed.

Eddie lets out a shaky breath. “M’sorry, go back to sleep,” he whispers. The words are sticky and thick in his throat.

A small furrow etches itself between Buck’s brows. Eddie smooths it with his thumb. He drags his gaze back down Buck’s face and finds his eyes open and fixed on him.

“Eddie,” he whispers in the dark.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m fine,” he lies.

Buck frowns. He watches Eddie for a long moment, then something in his expression shifts. “Switch sides with me,” he says.

Eddie blinks. “What?”

Buck huffs a soft breath. “Just—trust me?”

And oh, Eddie does. He carefully climbs over Buck, who shuffles to his right to give Eddie more room.

“Okay?” he asks quietly.

“Almost,” Buck replies.

He pulls Eddie flush against him and guides his head down onto his chest. Beneath him, Buck’s heart beats strong and steady.

“Oh,” Eddie exhales.

Buck runs his hand through Eddie’s hair and down his back.

Eddie closes his eyes and finally, he sleeps.

#tysm for the prompt saturn!!#i hope you like it even though i cheated lmao #abbie answers #abbie writes #911 #911 abc #buddie #buddiefic #buddie fic #fic

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cinnajun · 1 year ago

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ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 when they get jealous

a/n: this is my istj waiting room activity

notes: yujin is not included due to his age, jiwoong’s is set in the real world (aka he’s an idol), did not proofread

wc | 4.2k

jiwoong

i don’t think jiwoong gets jealous often

it’s just not his first thought when it comes to certain things LOL

but, depending on the situation, he absolutely will get jealous, but not in the way most people do

many people digest jealousy/envy as a big emotion but i don’t think it’s very big for jiwoong

and he knows that his jealousy isn’t something you should have to deal with but he doesn’t want to deal with it either so he’ll do his best to get rid of the issue without you knowing, which means making up creative ways to squash the situation

they all incorporate wherever you are

so let’s say you’re at the mall, you’re waiting for him to get out of a store, and a guy walks up to you and starts chatting you up

jiwoong will walk up to you and smile at whatever guy is flirting with you, acting completely fine

and then he’ll dip down and whisper something into your ear, and it’s usually something super unserious

“there’s a 50% sale at the ice cream shop and you get a fun cup for free”

you’re gone, he’s happy, and whatever guy was chatting you up is completely out of the picture

things are different when it comes to his members though

he always knew you liked kids and was well aware that you often volunteered to help out with kids, and he knew that you tutored high school students throughout university

nevertheless, jiwoong never thought han yujin would be his worst enemy

JIWOONG IS NORMALLY the most patient person you know—he can sit with you in a shop for an hour, watching you debate over two different mugs to buy without voicing one complaint. However, for some reason, watching you cook Yujin’s lunch is the worst thing he’s ever had to experience.

You had insisted on it after finding out he was planning on going to school after how long they’d been promoting, saying that it would be hard for him to go to school without anyone to cook him lunch. Jiwoong insisted that Hanbin probably would’ve, but you brushed him off, saying it wouldn’t take you long.

An hour and a half later, he was still sitting there, watching you cut watermelon into flowers. It was nearly 8 o’clock, and the movie you were going to was due to start at 8:45—meaning you had to leave soon.

“Are you almost done?” he asked, putting his down on the counter. You scoffed, putting the lid onto the last section of Yujin’s lunch box.

“What’s up with you?” you asked, beginning to wrap it up. “You’ve asked three times in the last hour.”

“I’m jealous that you’re spending more time fussing over Yujin’s lunch than hanging out with your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen in a long time.”

“You’re jealous over Yujin?” you asked, exasperated, turning around and putting your hands on your hips. “He’s your kid too! You should help out! What father is jealous of their own child?”

zhang hao

there are 2 men in zb1 that don’t get jealous literally ever and hao is one of them

literally how could he be jealous when he’s zhang hao

most of the time, actually, you’re the one getting jealous (which makes sense, because he’s zhang hao)

and he always mocks you for it, which you hate

he’ll say something like “aw, do you think they’re going to steal me away from you?” and you have to resist the urge to punch him in the stomach

so when he actually gets jealous it is sooooo much fun for you

you milk it to no end. it is an opportunity you CANNOT waste

most of the time, it happens at his fancy violinist events, where you meet other people who are just as talented and impressive as him (and sometimes, they’re pretty attractive, too)

when he’s jealous, he sticks to your side and gets a little bit mean, especially towards whoever he’s jealous of

gets super touchy too

has a hand around your waist and drags you around with him just to make sure everyone gets the big picture

one day, he notices you and hanbin have been hanging out a lot all of a sudden, and it makes him really, really jealous

mostly because he can’t do his little flaunt routine, because he’s flaunted you to him enough

and then you realize he’s jealous that you and hanbin have been spending a lot of time together planning his birthday party

so obviously you capitalize on it immediately

it backfires on you

HAO WASN’T TRYING to be dramatic, but when he swung the door to Hanbin’s apartment open, having dug the spare key out from under the mat, he couldn’t help but march in like a soldier going to war.

You and Hanbin were sitting at his dining table, both of your laptops open. You had a cup of tea on the table, too, in a mug Hao knew he’d gifted Hanbin for his birthday a couple of years back.

“You let him make you tea?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air like he was in some sort of drama. Both you and Hanbin stared at him in a mix of shock and confusion, wondering what in the world had caused him to barge in like that. Sure, you were beginning to pick up the fact that he was jealous of your business meetings with his best friend, but you weren’t exactly aware of how far you’d let it progress.

“Well, I made the tea—”

“You know where he keeps his tea?” he cut you off, staring at you while tapping his foot on the ground. “I am sick of this. How am I being left out by my partner and my best friend? What did I do to deserve this?”

“I think you’re getting the wrong idea,” Hanbin said, slowly closing his laptop. “We aren’t hanging out, per se, so we aren’t exactly leaving you out.”

“Then why have you spent hours upon hours together over the past week?”

You placed a hand over your mouth, trying to stop from laughing. “Hao, please be serious. What’s next week?”

His cheeks turned bright red, and you wished you could’ve got his big outburst on video.

hanbin

i am a believer that hanbin get sooo jealous (have you seen him glare at people's interaction with hao LOL)

he’s like the nicest guy on earth so there has to be one negative emotion that he feels

and it’s quite literally only over his loved ones, nothing else

will get jealous if people spend too much time with hao

will get even more jealous if people steal your attention away from him

he doesn’t even get jealous over things he should be getting jealous over, it’s things he hallucinates

“that guy stared at you a little too weirdly…”

“he was just our waiter?”

“still he was too friendly…i got bad vibes”

when hanbin gets jealous, though, it’s not very serious and never causes a problem between you two

he might hold your hand a little tighter or not be very fond of leaving you alone, but otherwise it’s not an issue

there are instances where his jealousy can get serious, and most of the time it’s pretty warranted (and this is when hanbin leans towards protective)

you’ll be watching one of his performances among a bunch of his peers and someone will get a little too touchy with you

and dancers are very hot so he might get a little insecure too

he will stomp over to you, sweaty and tired, and drag you away without saying a word to whoever was chatting you up

other than that his jealousy is kind of cute

hanbin doesn’t view any of the boys as enemies but sometimes matthew can be super cute

and while he considers matthew one of his best friends sometimes he forgets that matthew is just like that and isn’t trying to woo you

matthew, however, is well versed in the art that is hanbinism and is immune to it

YOU KNOW HANBIN like the back of your hand. He’s sweet, pretty, and enjoys being around the people he loves. And, you know for a fact Matthew is one of the people he loves. Nevertheless, when he skips up to you two with a white rose he picked, Taerae in tow, you can practically see a vein pop out of Hanbin’s head.

“Look at how pretty this is!” he smiled, and you nodded, agreeing with him. “Taerae and I found a bush of them, and I figured I’d pick one to give to you.”

You hear Hanbin scoff, and, feeling panic rush up your throat, you turn to him with horror flowing through you. The look in his eyes is dangerous, and a sort of shallow smile appears on his face—you don’t like it one bit. You turn back to Matthew, who seems completely unphased, and instead keeps talking.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to Hanbin. He stares at it, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

“I thought you were giving it to [First]?”

“Huh? That would be weird,” Matthew replies, tilting his head. You hear Taerae begin to laugh, likely at Hanbin, and you have to hold back a little chuckle as well. “Wouldn’t you be the one to give a rose to them? Anyway, here you go.”

Hanbin, dumbfounded, takes the rose from Matthew’s hand, and he and Taerae disappear off into the distance.

matthew

matthew is #2 of men in zb1 who don’t get jealous often

literally doesn’t have the brain capacity for it

he’s like a universal friend, and universal friends don’t get jealous of anybody, nor do they distrust their significant others

a more appropriate word to use would be uncomfortable

at least that’s what matthew says when he gets jealous LOL

he genuinely doesn’t think he feels jealous because he doesn’t have any worry that whoever is talking to you is going to “steal” you away from him, but he certainly doesn’t appreciate anybody hardcore flirting with you

he can handle a “you’re so pretty” or an “i love your outfit” but if someone is persisting and he can tell you’re uncomfortable (both factors have to be present, or he’ll just let you handle it yourself) he will do his best to shut it down

but in the matthew way

so he walks over to you with a big smile on his face and starts talking to you like he normally would

“hey, babe, i lost you for a second”

whoever’s talking to you literally can’t keep going because of how nice matthew is

“oh, who’s this? it’s nice to meet you! i’m [first]’s boyfriend, matthew”

they’re gone within 2 minutes and matthew is feeling successful

he’ll probably give you a kiss on the cheek afterwards just to hammer home his point

he will, however, admit that he gets jealous of the other members lol

it’s mostly because he considers them his friends, though, so the idea that you’d be into one of them is scary to him

as a result, he gets a little wary when he stumbles upon you chatting with jiwoong at a party

BEFORE MATTHEW LEFT to go get a drink, you were sitting on the couch, playing a game on your phone. He planned to tell you that you could leave after he finished the drink, but when he returned, Jiwoong was sitting across from you, speaking with you.

The smile on your face was genuine, and you seemed overjoyed that you weren’t bored anymore. And, subconsciously, Matthew took it as you being happy that Jiwoong was talking to you, and not because you were glad you wouldn’t have to drag Matthew away from his friends anymore (which was the truth).

He sat back down next to you, sitting on the edge of the seat and putting his cup down on the coffee table. You smiled at him, and Jiwoong said his hellos, to which Matthew replied less than enthusiastically.

“We were just chatting about the new art exhibit that opened up at the museum. You know, the one we went to last week?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he said, taking a long sip of the drink. You raised an eyebrow, finally picking up that Matthew was feeling a bit jealous. “You planning on going again, or something?”

“Nope,” Jiwoong cut in, leaning back in his chair. “Actually, [First] was just talking about how much she enjoyed going with you, as you seemed to like it a lot. She said your eyes were sparkling the entire time.”

Matthew shut up quick after that, and you didn’t mention it ever again.

taerae

taerae’s jealousy is silent

you won’t know he’s jealous until well after the event has occurred

he might bring it up in passing weeks later and you’re absolutely dumbfounded

mostly because you had no clue

“you were jealous?”

“yeah, he kept staring at your lips and was getting super touchy with you. how would i not be jealous?”

you think about the interaction for hours afterward, you skim through all the memories, and you cannot figure out where he conveyed he was jealous

he’s so good at masking any negative emotion that when you manage to notice his jealousy it’s almost a little bit scary

you’ll be talking with someone, it doesn’t matter who, and you’ll look over at him for a second and notice this weird look in his eyes

and then you’ll be hyperaware of how everything he says has this sharp edge to it

little jabs that neither you or whoever you’re talking to would be able to pick up unless they were actively looking for hostility

lowkey it’s kind of attractive LOL

taerae’s usually the picture of “kind” so seeing him go into a lockdown mode is a bit fun for you, even if it’s barely noticeable

after the event that made him jealous he’s super touchy with you which is also fun for you

because taerae gives gooood hugs and is comfortable to lay on

so, long story short, if he’s ever jealous of the boys you don’t know until afterward

sometimes even weeks after the fact

and obviously when you were fawning over zhang hao after his violin recital, which taerae had taken you to, you weren’t exactly aware of the way he was staring at hao

WHEN TAERAE GRABS your hand about a minute into your drive, lacing all of your fingers together and pulling your hand onto his lap, your jaw drops. You turn to look at him with shock on your face, trying to find the words to say. “No way,” you gasped, putting your other hand over your mouth.

He looks over at you for a brief second, confused as to why you’re suddenly making such a big deal that he was holding your hand. “What? I don’t understand.”

“You were jealous? Of Hao?” you exclaimed, letting your hand drop from your mouth. “Why? I mean, he did well, did he not? Was I too complimentary? Do I need to reel it back next time?”

“What? No, you were just being nice. Where did you get the idea I was jealous?”

“You say that, but in a month and a half, you’re going to be like, ‘You know what made me super jealous?’ and then you’re going to drop three bombs on me,” you replied. “And this is going to be included. So, just say it now, so we can get it over with.”

Taerae blinked a couple of times, tightening his grip on your hand. “Okay, maybe I was a little jealous—”

You wrenched your hand away from his, clapping excitedly. “Oh, I’m a genius! I have a degree in Taeraeology now, seriously.”

“What in the world is Taeraeology?”

ricky

when ricky gets jealous it’s like not a competition

he just shuts the situation down

i mean he’s so tall and so gorgeous that anybody who tries anything with you is immediately so intimidated the moment he does anything, he barely even has to talk

he literally has a neck tattoo like that’s terrifying

as a result he does not have the time to get seriously jealous because anyone who’s flirting with you is sprinting away the moment they lay eyes on him approaching you

most of the time people don’t even try anything anyway because they see you with him before you’re separated

for the few that are willing to stand up to ricky, it’s pretty funny for you to watch

“[first], who’s this?” and you watch the competitor cartoon-gulp right in front of you

they maybe last about 15 seconds before they bid you goodbye out of pure intimidation like good for you ricky

if it’s one of the days where he looks incredibly cute and soft (you know what i’m talking about) things tend to go south because ricky is awkward and his strong suit is rbf

at which point you end up having to be the one to be like “okay, me and my boyfriend are going to head out now!” LOL

among the jebis the only one ricky is going to get jealous of is gyuvin and that’s because they’re the same age and very close

he knows gyuvin will never make a move on you but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous when gyuvin is taking up too much of your attention

and he’ll straight up tell him to fuck off too LOL

riyangis i get you

GYUVIN LOOKS LIKE he’s about to burst into laughter as Ricky stands next to you, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He never takes Ricky’s jealousy seriously, which you understand why, given the fact that they’re best friends, and he has absolutely no interest in you whatsoever.

“You should go home now,” Ricky insists, motioning towards the front door. “I think we’ve hung out for long enough today.”

It was partially your fault for introducing a topic Ricky wasn’t versed in, but Gyuvin was the only other person you knew had watched the show you were watching, and you were itching to talk about it with somebody who understood. But, you’d pushed it too far, and he’d gotten a bit upset that you were focusing on Gyuvin when he had barged into your date.

“Aw, but [First] is my friend, too.”

“And, if we were both drowning, she’d choose me over you. What’s your point?”

Gyuvin burst into laughter, clutching his stomach as he wobbled towards the door. You held back your laughter as best you could, nearly losing it as Gyuvin struggled to put on the pair of bright yellow Crocs he decided to wear when he walked over. He opened the door and slammed it shut, yet you could still hear him laughing outside.

Then, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. You laughed so hard that you also had to hold your stomach, and Ricky marched away from you, ignoring the halfassed apologies that fell from your lips.

gyuvin

gyuvin isn’t usually a jealous guy but he can get jealous, as opposed to hao and matthew who virtually never get jealous

when he gets jealous though it’s somewhat upsetting

it usually means something happened that wounded his pride or made him feel insecure, which you don’t enjoy obviously

so 99.9% of the time, if gyuvin is jealous, it’s because one of the members did something to/with you that he wasn’t super okay with

it’s never anything minute, like one of them liking an instagram post or something stupid, rather something happening under his nose

he loves and respects them a lot so the idea that they did something with his s/o without him knowing makes him super duper unhappy

and then he’ll start to think that there’s something they have that he didn’t, so he gets a bit insecure, too

but he absolutely will convince himself it’s not a big deal so then he’s just in an extra bad mood for the rest of the day

you usually have to squeeze whatever’s wrong out of him and, when you manage to, you feel really bad

because usually whatever happened to upset him was something you thought you’d addressed with him and/or thought he knew about

like ricky, he gets most jealous over things that happen between you and ricky

because you’re all close in age and gyuvin and ricky spend all of their time together, you’re obviously friends with him too

and, in ricky’s seasonal instagram wrap up post, he notices a selfie of you two in what he thinks was a hangout you had together without him knowing based on the background

it ruins his day so fast :( but you make sure to patch up the misunderstanding

GYUVIN HATES THE WAY HE FEELS as he gears up to speak, twiddling his thumbs while you sit across from him at the table, a frown painting your face. He doesn’t like it when you look sad, and he doesn’t like feeling this way or addressing that he feels it. So, when the time comes where he has to talk about it, it eats him up from the inside out.

“Did you hang out with Ricky? Without me?”

You immediately furrow your eyebrows, as if you’re confused. “Not that I know of? I barely even text Ricky outside of the group chat the three of us have. Where’d you get that idea?”

Embarrassed, Gyuvin decides to pull up the post, turning his phone to face you. You take it from his hands, bringing it closer to your face so that you can get a better look at it. Then, recognition floods your features, and your frown turns into a smile. “That was when we roadtripped to the beach. Not pictured here are you and Taerae, who were getting us coffee.”

Gyuvin snatches the phone back, feeling even more embarrassed. He zooms in on the background parts, ignoring you and Ricky, quickly realizing that the filter Ricky put on the picture made the water look much bluer than it actually had been, leading him to believe you’d gone on your own separate beach trip. Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, Gyuvin smiled crookedly.

“My bad.”

gunwook

i actually struggled with this

on one hand i don’t think gunwook would get jealous easily

he’s a very reasonable boyfriend and has quite literally never wronged you

on the other hand i do think he would get jealous somewhat frequently

in the same way as taerae, it’s very quiet jealousy, but you will literally never know with him

he won’t ever bring it up after it happens and will just. move on

he also might get a little snarky with whoever approached you afterwards, but never when you’re around, so you are none the wiser

if you find out gunwook got jealous, you are finding out from other people, which you think is absolutely insane

one day you’ll be like cordially chatting with gyuvin and he’ll bring up this one time gunwook got super mega jealous over one of your guy friends and how it haunted him for months and you’re like ??? what

gyuvin is like you DIDN’T know? and then you learn about every single time gunwook has gotten jealous and then told him + yujin + ricky about it

apparently it was so obvious to the boys that hanbin literally asked him about it

you’re flabbergasted

so then you approach gunwook like “wtf is this?” and he’s like

“oh yeah”

what do you mean OH YEAH?

you’re actually so shocked

gunwook isn’t the type to get jealous of the boys though like that just straight up won’t happen

doesn’t matter who you’re talking to, how much time you spend with them, etc

he knows they’d never pull something with you ever so you could literally go on a remote vacation to the amazon rainforest with NO cell service with like hanbin and he wouldn’t give a shit

TAERAE WAS BUSY, which meant you’d dragged Hanbin along with you to go shopping for Christmas presents for the boys. You’d been dating Gunwook long enough that you felt like it was a good way to show gratitude for them, and Hanbin agreed to take you to the mall to get the gifts.

Of course, you couldn’t take Gunwook, because you were planning on buying a good chunk of his gift, too, which meant you hadn’t told him where you were going. So, when he called, you were somewhat apprehensive to pick up.

Hanbin, on the other hand, looked terrified.

“Can I come over? I’m bored,” he asked, and you held back the urge to laugh as you stared at Hanbin, who looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“I’m Christmas-present shopping with Hanbin, actually. Sorry.”

Hanbin’s jaw dropped, likely at the fact that you just came right out with it, but you weren’t worried in the slightest. “Oh, okay. That’s cool. Have fun. Tell Hanbin I said hello.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

He hung up, and Hanbin’s jaw dropped farther. “He just…doesn’t care? Like at all?”

You gave him an inquisitive look, as if you didn’t understand what he was implying. “Is he supposed to?"

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee

#cinna.zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 scenarios #zb1 reactions #zb1 fluff #zb1 angst #zb1 headcanons #jiwoong x reader #zhang hao x reader #hanbin x reader #sung hanbin x reader #seok matthew x reader #taerae x reader #ricky x reader #gyuvin x reader #gunwook x reader #req

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hatsunemitskislobotomy · 6 months ago

Text

˚˙⊹⁺. ⋆ ❝ 𝙬𝙚’𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 ❞ ⛆ ﾟ ˚˙⊹⁺.

↳ ❝ ¡love and deepspace headcannons for when you’re feeling down (because hot girls are chronically sad)! ❞

༄𓇢𓆸⋆°•☁︎

xavier

he notices you’ve been more down after missions, faking smiles, going straight home after missions instead of lingering about stirring up more trouble

he’s not sure how to approach, him personally if he was in a mood he wouldn’t want nobody talking to him

then he remembers that you and him are not the same, you two never were, you needed that check in

so after work he offers to walk with you back home, after all you two are neighbors

you were hesitant, you just wanted the time to yourself— you weren’t in the mood for making conversation

but he picks up on that and only offers a comfortable silence, you appreciate it

once you make it back he’s hesitant to just let you get off on your floor

so he lies

he mentions that there was some new information about the no hunt zone that would be useful in your journey

he feels bad when he sees you slightly perk up at his fib

so when you follow him up to his apartment waiting on the info, he tries to deflect

what better way to offer to make dinner?

suddenly all thoughts about that information disappears from your mind replaced with the concern that xavier might burn the entire complex down

you spend the evening begrudgingly helping out with dinner although you seem to be more at ease, more like your old self

before the two of you know it, you had a comforting meal in front of you

it was a comfortable silence between the two of you, you had made food that you probably wouldn’t have made if you had just gone back to your apartment and the complex was in one piece— you’d consider that a win

on the other side of the table, he eyes you with the intention to see what was on your mind

you definitely seemed to be in higher spirits but he was still undoubtedly worried about you

he wasn’t exactly sure how to approach

until you hear your message notification go off

“are u okay?”

you can’t help but look up at him, you literally were sitting across from him

another ding, another message

“i wasn’t sure if u were up for talking— figured this would be easier for u”

you couldn’t help but smile softly at his thoughtfulness

the two of you text back and forth, sneaking glances at one another after the other sent a message

it was easier to articulate your thoughts over text no matter how long it took you to form the words

and when you got stuck or frustrated with typing an explanation, he’d reach across the table putting a hand over yours

“it’s okay.”

he was still new to being a comforting presence in your life but little did he know that it would come easy to him

as the evening dwindled down, he insists he’ll do the dishes in the morning— right now he just wants to take care of you

so what did that entail? he had cheesy romantic movies from a multitude of decades at his disposal ready to sleep through watch with you

as you two get comfortable on the couch, he makes sure that you’re tucked into his side with an arm comfortably around you

as the movie goes on you’re definitely in higher spirits, sure your problems were still there but today they didn’t manage to consume you

and you had the big warm teddy bear of a man who was running his fingers through your hair like one pets a cat to thank

rafayel

he’s actually so insufferable LMAO

you’ve been in one of your moods for ages now and his constant whining and fits whenever you weren’t around was taxing for you

essentially you lowkey ghost him (and everyone else he’s not special lol)

it’s funny because he always complains about not knowing where you are like he doesn’t have your location (this man would LOVE life360)

he sees that you haven’t left your apartment in days and takes matters into his own hands

you wake up from your third (?) nap that day to some loud obnoxious knocking, you were not pleased considering that you had a gentle doorbell that was easier to sleep through

right when you open the door to tear whoever out there a new one, your angry eyes lock onto those beautiful familiar ones

he wanted to throw a fit right then and there about how you’ve constantly ignored his calls and texts and how you haven’t left your apartment but he sees it in your eyes

it was the last thing you needed

so he practically invites himself in with a bag of groceries in tow

you open your mouth to protest but he swiftly shuts you down

“you look terrible.”

you should curse him out, that’s what you’re feeling at the moment but you also know he doesn’t deserve that

you just give him a tired look

“thanks.”

he makes you go take a shower while he gets started on a seafood dinner (can we talk about this??? like this man is a CANNIBAL enjoying a whole seafood boil like THATS YO FRIENDS)

you come out the shower feeling a bit better so you go to the kitchen

he’s yapping to the poor crabs he had boiling in the pot

“she’s lucky she has me y’know? or else she would’ve just wasted away— i know right! even after she practically disappeared on me! okay… yeah i knew she was at home the entire time but i can’t help but worry!”

you clear your throat and he throws a cheeky smile your way

“just confiding with my counsel.”

you refrain from commenting on how he should let the poor crabs boil in peace

it isn’t long before he has a plentiful seafood spread, he keeps putting more food on your plate (not seafood but like the garnish stuff— he gives you all his potatoes lol)

you’re not exactly making conversation with him but that’s okay, he can talk enough for the both of you

especially when he’s complaining about how you left him alone

“what was i supposed to do with myself without my bodyguard— thomas just isn’t as efficient!”

somewhere, someplace thomas lets out a sneeze

the conversation gets exhausting at some point and he starts to catch on, when he notices that you’re practically done he kicks you out to the living room so he can clean up

you offer to help but he’s not having it

you opt for waiting for him on your couch, full of food and in an arguably better headspace than you were in before you start to nod off

“don’t tell me you’re falling asleep on me?”

your eyes snap open

he has no issue plopping down on the couch next to you

“seriously miss bodyguard, you’re killing me here— you’re supposed to be bringing your a game.”

his joking tone is quick to become serious as he takes your hand in his

“talk to me, please…?”

you let out a sigh and explain your depressive slump

saying it out loud made you feel even more pathetic but he’s quick to pick up the pieces cupping your face with the upmost care

“you deserve the world y’know that?”

you blink, his words not processing

“allow yourself grace pretty girl, nobody expects you to carry it all on your own— at least i don’t.”

his fingers lightly trace your features, he wears a gentle smile with you

it’s not often you’re on the receiving side of comfort with him, it felt nice

“oh you poor thing…”

you didn’t realize the tears slipping out until he was wiping them away with the pads of his thumb

he pulls your head into the warmth of his chest, his fingers gently combing through your hair as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you towards a peaceful sleep

“you’ll be okay.”

zanye

he hears about your injuries not from you or the agency— but from some idle chatter that the nurses were having

“those hunters who were sent up to the mountains, they took quite the beating last i heard.”

it didn’t take much for him to approach the nurses and coax them into giving him more information about what they heard

which leads him to send you texts and calls, but you weren’t answering

it seems like he was sent on a wild goose chase before finding you at the hunter agency’s practice grounds to his dismay

you’re bandaged up from your torso to your right shoulder, the tank top you sported aided in displaying you plentiful bruises

you were target practicing, your aim was sloppy, unfocused

he approaches you in caution, less he gets caught in the crossfire of your state

upon moving closer he can’t ignore the fatigue that was etched onto your face

one of your shots recoil causing you to stumble

he took this as an opportunity to get to your side and steady you

“you’re hardly effective in this state.”

his little quips about her lack of involvement in her own health sometimes were normal, so why did the air get frigid— more so than usual

“is that all i am? my worth tied to my usefulness, if i’m not effective i’m nothing.”

he did not mean to uncover this

but it was obvious, there was something deeper at play

“i did not wish to offend.”

you let out a sigh, of course he didn’t— you blew up on him with no grounds for doing so

you keep your head low, ready to aim another shot at one of the targets, your arm trembling

he puts his hand over yours, extending his arm as well, gently pushing down for you to lower your aim

“you’ll run yourself into the ground.”

“i have a job to do dr. zayne.”

“then you understand that i’m going to do mine.”

he practically drags you out of the training grounds, ready to scold and lecture you but he sees your defeated, tired look

it can wait

he takes you back to your apartment where he properly addresses your wounds and gathers what he needs to redo your bandages

but even after all that, he still sees your exhausted dejected look— he curses the fact that he can’t treat your worries and burdens

so he opts for the next best thing

he abandons the bandages for a moment and pulls you to your feet

you give him a tired, confused look

“come, i’ll run you a bath.”

he knows your apartment like the back of his hand as he guides you to your bathroom

he seats you on the toilet seat before undressing you carefully, you shiver slightly as the air hits your bare skin

had this been any other circumstance you would’ve protested and grown embarrassed at the intimacy

but you were just so tired

your thoughts are drowned out by the sound of the water filling the tub, the ambiance was calming until his voice snaps you out of it

he had been calling your name

he pulls you up, making sure you’re steady before helping you into the bathtub

you fret about the water you accidentally splashed out but he quiets you in an act of reassurance as he lowered you into the tub

“shh, it’s no matter— i’ll handle it later.”

you can’t help but sigh at his words, he always knew how to put you at ease

the hot water caused you to hiss as he lowered you in, immediately after relief filled your achy body

“careful now, i need you upright.”

his words were gentle as he steadied you, keeping you from sinking into the water

from there he bathed you with the upmost care, cautious of your wounds

you leaned into his touch as you closed your eyes

regardless of whether or not you admitted it out loud, he knew you needed this

he could tell you were starting to drift in and out of consciousness

but that just meant he had to hold on to you a little bit tighter

when you come to you’re no longer in the bathtub but rather in your bed, dressed in some loose pajamas that wouldn’t aggravate your freshly wrapped wounds

you try to shift around and make sense of your surroundings but the strong arms around your torso make those attempts futile

“lay still, i’ve got you.”

the voice rumbles right behind you as you relax, he was your safety net after all

and when you had fallen to one of your lows, he caught you

❀° ┄───╮

a/n: yall trying to put this out was like pulling teeth BAVDVDBSNENHEHS i hate uni so much why do i have to go to an academic institution im just a girl ☹️☹️☹️

the way i write headcannons/bullet point to avoid actually writing because im lazy el oh el

anywhozies i have more half baked ideas in the drafts its really a matter of when im not drained to write and finish them 😵‍💫

that’s it from me in the meantime love you all mwahhhhh 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

╰───┄ °❀

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strangesem · 1 year ago

Note

hihi!!

if you’re still taking requests.. can you do a Hobie x fem!reader 😟‼️❓

Can Hobie be really close friends, and the reader has a fat crush on him. Like following him like a lost puppy, doing sweet things for him typa crush.

And like, one day she goes over to his place and he’s all injured and in his Spider Suit, and she like freaks out?

THIS IS SO CUTE RAHHHHH

apologies to everyone who’s request I haven’t gotten to yet; this ended up being a pretty long one because I just couldn’t stop writing lol

hobie brown x reader (reader finding hobie injured)

a/n: I changed it just a little bit and made reader and hobie roommates lol (as I’ve said previously I see hobie as 19-ish)

ps I need more spider-punk gifs theres like 3 total

so you and hobie have been best friends since you were kids

and you’ve been crushing on him since you were like 14-

and when you got your own place, it was only natural to share that with hobie

because of his struggle with being unhoused, he spent a lot of time at your place, so it wasn’t much of a change anyway

and sure the apartment was a little small, and not in the greatest neighborhood, but it was home

or at least you thought so

as hobie started coming come later and later, you became unsure if he felt the same

even worse he consistently came home with bruises/marks littering his face and arms, and you’re sure if you could see the rest of his body it would be the same

he’d always hound you for being out late because of the type of people who hung around this part of town at night, but if you even try to ask him to be more safe? he i just shrugs it off.

“it’s different” or so he claims, but you fail to see how.

not to mention that, as far as you could tell, he didn’t even have a reason to be out so late.

and as his late nights bleed into early mornings, you eventually stop being able to stay up waiting for him every night, and that worries you even more;

what if he just doesn’t come back one day? and you wouldn’t even know until the next morning!!

but your school/work responsibilities, as irrelevant as they may seem compared to your concern for your best friend, necessitated you having a full nights rest

but tonight? you can’t sleep.

hobie had promised you he’d be home in time to watch the new horror movie you’d rented. and yet, he never showed.

you had actually gone to bed early, exhausted and knowing sitting on the couch waiting would only breed more anxiety as each hour passed; but you hadn’t slept

you couldn’t. not tonight.

and so, you decide to just get up and have something warm to drink; maybe that would help soothe you

you lazily drag yourself to the kitchen, spend a few moments debating between tea and cocoa, before delicately mixing together your drink of choice

it’s then that you realize you had apparently left the tv on? the volume is off but there’s clearly light coming from your living room

so, you quietly enter the living room to grab the remote to turn it off; only to see a body laying across the small couch you had recently bought, causing you to jump

“jesus christ hobie what the fuck- WHAT THE FUCK HOBIE”

you quickly notice the crimson blood dripping from his deep looking wounds, seeping into his clothes- wait no. spider-man’s suit???

one thing at a time y/n.

“‘m sorry, just kinda crashed here” his voice is hoarse as he grabs your hand and squeezes it in some weird plea to keep himself grounded

“OHMYGODHOBIEAREYOUOKAYWHATHAPPENEDISTHISWHYYOUREALWAYSOUTSOLATEWHYDIDNTYOUTELLMEYOUREBLEEDINGLIKEALOTSHOULDNTWEBEDOINGSOMETHINGABOUTTHAT”

translation: omg hobie are you okay?? what happened- is this why you’re always out so late?? you’re bleeding like a lot shouldn’t we be doing something about that?????

you quickly stammer out before running to grab all the first aid supplies you had in the bathroom and heading back to a way too unbothered hobie

“calm down I’ve had worse”

“YOU’VE WHA-

“calm down.” he grabs you by the shoulders and makes you look him in the eye “I’m fine”

“people who are fine don’t bleed this much, hobie.” you began working on the worst looking wound, applying pressure with a cloth to hopefully stop the bleeding “why didn’t you tell me?”

“y’ worry too much; especially ‘bout me”

“of course I do! you’re my best friend.”

“we both know it’s more than that, love”

you freeze; you can’t look at him. you’re too embarrassed to let yourself admit that he’s right, because you had always been just friends. and you were terrified of ruining that.

“I’m sorry”

“look at me, y/n”

you can’t.

“feelings mutual y’know, if that’s what’s got ya all worked up” he laughs, shoving your shoulder a little in an effort to diffuse the tension you had built up within yourself “always has been; thought I made it pretty obvious. you always were pretty oblivious though”

“no I’m not!” he smiles; you always were defensive too

“pretty sure y’a are”

“I will literally let you sit here and bleed out”

“no you won’t”

no, you won’t.

you just go back to addressing his wounds, trying not to feel all giddy inside, but also doing your best not to overflow with anxiety.

what are you guys then? this changes EVERYTHING- is it weird that you live together now? is it weird-

“you’re worrying again. and don’t try to tell me you’re not; I know that face”

“it’s nothing. anyway, I’m all done; we should change the bandages in a few hours though, just to keep everything clean”

you get up to go wash your hands, and maybe heat up your long-forgotten drink, but you’re interrupted by hobie’s audible sigh

“you’re forgetting something, love”

“I am?? did I miss somewhere?” your voice gets progressively higher as you check him over, worry bubbling within you

“y’ did, yeah”

he pulls you closer to him, briefly cradling your face before allowing his lips to brush against yours

“stay? f’ me?”

#not proofread #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk #across the spiderverse #marvel

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morgana-larkin · 6 months ago

Note

Hi hi! I wanna request for everyone’s favorite redhead, Melissa! (I definitely did not have a hot and steamy dream about this scenario at all) I have an idea of where after a hard week and the start of Abbott’s winter break, everyone goes to a strip club to let off some steam. At the strip club, our reader is a stripper that has a firefighter schtick, and Melissa’s attention is fully on her. Ava notices this and as an early Christmas gift, she gifts Melissa a private dance with the firefighter stripper, and maybe a few “extras” 😉. During the private dance, the reader reveals that they’re an actual firefighter which causes Melissa to get excited and starts talking about fire trucks before the reader shushes her and asks her if she’d like a tour of the firehouse someday, implying future smut.

and then maybe a part 2 of the firehouse smut where the reader has the firehouse empty for a night and invites Melissa over to give her that “special tour” which involves our stripper reader coming out in her full firefighter gear and having Melissa take it off of her, before revealing fire red lingerie under all that gear, along with using the fire pole as a stripper pole and then some smut inside the fire truck which I know Melissa would love

Anon, the next time you have a dream like this, please, invite me to your dream! Lol. But for real, this was a great prompt and of course I’ll write a part 2 with smut! Here’s part 1 of a little tease. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I’m trying to write Worth It but I just did 12 hours on a set for a movie and was able to write this quickly. I’ll get through your prompts while trying to write Worth It. I love how 2 prompts are for drunk Mel! And I haven’t forgotten about Mine and Cool Your Fire!

Part 2

Calling 911

Warnings: references to smut

Words: 1.9k

It was the end of the day at Abbott and now the beginning of a well deserved Christmas break. The Abbott crew decided to go on together before having 2 weeks off. Due to it being a stressful week full of grading, kids not paying attention as they were excited for the break and just the usual craziness as usual, they agreed with Ava’s suggestion to go to a strip club together.

They got to the club while there was a stripper doing an angel theme strip dance. They got a table near the front and Ava got the first round of drinks for everyone. They were talking and enjoying their drinks when you came on and the song started. “Somebody better call 911, shawty fire burning on the dance floor, whoa!” The song flooded through the club and Melissa turned to face the dancer just as it started and she froze.

There you were in firefighter looking overalls with the suspenders, a red bra and a fake firefighter helmet. Melissa watched you, entranced, while you swung around the pole, dancing to the rhythm of the song.

Everyone saw Melissa so taken by the stripper and just watched her watch you. They were smiling as they always had a feeling that Melissa might play for both teams. But Ava being Ava, she of course had to meddle.

By the time the song was over and you walked off stage, Melissa turned her attention back to the table. “What?” She asked them all as they were all staring at her.

“You seem taken by that stripper.” Janine said with a smirk.

“She was doing a firefighter set, you know how much I love things about firefighters.” Melissa tries to defend herself.

“So it was only the fact that she was doing a firefighter set and nothing to do with the woman herself?” Barb asked her, already knowing the answer and knowing the lie that Melissa will say.

“Exactly.”

“So you wouldn’t be interested in the fact that I got you a private dance with her then?” Ava says and Melissa chokes and starts coughing on the sip she took.

“You what? When did you even do that?” Melissa asks in shock.

“When you were ogling her for like 3 minutes.” Ava says with a grin. “But hey, if you don’t want it then I’ll take it.” Ava says and goes to get up. Melissa reacts before thinking and grabs Ava’s wrist and pulls her back down.

“I- I didn’t say no, I was just surprised.” Melissa says. Surprised by her own actions.

“Then go get that dance.” Ava says and Melissa gets up with a sigh.

“Alright alright, I’m going.” Melissa tells her.

“Merry Christmas Schemmenti.” Ava tells her with a wave and Melissa flips her off.

Melissa walks to the room that Ava told her to go too and walks in. It was an average size room with a couch, a pole, a speaker and low lighting. She crosses the room to the couch and before she sits, you walk in.

“Well this is a nice surprise.” You say and she turns around. “Oh, very nice surprise.” You say when you see her face and you were able to make out the red hair when you entered. You see a small smile on her face at your compliment and she shook her head.

“I bet you say that to everyone.” She says to you.

“I actually don’t. In my defence though, it’s usually men.” You tell her and you see her tilt her head. You can’t see much else in the low lighting.

“You don’t like doing private dances for men.” She asks and you have to admit, talking with her is really nice.

“Not really, it’s the women that catch my interest.” You tell her. “Do you mind if I turn up the light a bit? I would like to see you.” You ask her.

“Ok, but I’ll warn you, I’m not young.” She tells you and you turn it up a bit and you’re finally able to see her face clearly.

“Wow.” You say a bit breathless. “You’re stunning.” You tell her and you can make out a blush in the lighting. She sees you in a short black dress and she takes a breath to cool herself down.

“Th-thank you. U-um my f-friend paid for me to have a private dance because I liked your firefighter set.” She stutters out and tries to change the subject.

“Really? A woman who is attracted to firefighters? That’s rare.” You tell her and walk closer to her.

“Y-ya, I love everything about it.” She tells you and sees you coming closer to her and she walks back. She hits the couch and falls on it. She looks up at you with wide eyes and her mouth open in shock.

You giggle at her reaction and you then lean down to her ear. “Did you not want a private dance?” You whisper in her ear then pull back. “I can do a lap dance or a pole dance. Whichever you prefer.” You ask her and she’s frozen in place.

“You- you can choose.” She squeaks out and you’re confused. Well that was new.

“What? No one has asked me to choose.” You tell her and she gulps. Normally you prefer the pole because it means you don’t have to be near them, but something about this woman piques your interest. Is it because she’s exactly your type or because she seems nervous or something else? You’ll never know.

You hit play from the remote in your hand that you grabbed when you walked in and a song starts to play. It’s the song Buttons by the Pussycat Dolls, a great burlesque group. You start at the pole but then make your way over to her lap. When the song is over, you’re straddling her lap and she’s panting heavily under you with wide eyes.

“You know, I’m actually a firefighter, that’s why I like doing a firefighter set.” You tell her and you think she stopped breathing.

“You are?” She asks you and you nod. You see her breathing even out quickly and a smile forms on her lips. “You know I wanted to be a firefighter, if I wasn’t a teacher then I would have been a firefighter. It runs in my family actually, I know all about it, I mean the Schemmenti’s love beating fires. And also-” She rambles and you put a finger over her mouth to stop her.

“You’re a Schemmenti?” You ask her and she nods. “Wow, your family is a legend.” You tell her and she blushes. “You know you’re cute.” You tell her and she smiles and looks down. “I don’t ever do this but how about we continue this private dance at the fire station another night?” You ask her and she beams.

“Really?” She asks and you nod.

“I can give you a private tour.” You tell her and she gets so excited that she hugs you.

“I would love that, both things.” She says and then remembers you’re only wearing a bra and underwear and she pulls back. “Sorry. But I would love a tour, and to continue the private dance.” She says and you laugh.

“Of course.” You tell her then you get off of her and put your dress back on. “I’ll see you later.” You tell her with a wink and then leave.

Melissa then thinks you never settled on a date or got your number and she frowns, was she played? She then gets up and exits the room. She sees her group of friends are still here and she makes a stop at the bar first. She’s waiting on her drink when a piece of paper slides to her. She looks over and sees it’s you.

At the table, Ava saw you approach Melissa and shushes everyone and then points. Everyone looks over to see what caught her interest and their jaws drop.

“Thought you might need this.” You tell her and she blushes and smiles before taking the piece of paper.

“Go Melissa!” Ava yells and you look over and see someone grab the woman who yelled and pulled her back down.

“Melissa Schemmenti?” You say and she nods.

“That’s me.” She says and you smile.

“What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Mine’s y/n y/l/n. Pleasure to formally meet you.” You tell her and you shake hands. Before letting go of her hand, you pull her hand a bit and kiss her cheek and then you leave. You turn around to see her stunned. “Don’t be a stranger.” You say and then go to the back of the club.

Melissa smiles then touches where you kissed her cheek. She has a second of content and peace and then she gets ambushed by the crew. They bombard her with questions and she doesn’t give either of them an answer. She just looks at the paper: for that tour xo . You wrote, followed by your number. Melissa smiles the entire time at the strip club after that.

“Did you hit it?” Ava asks and Melissa snaps her head to her and glared briefly before smiling again.

“Nope.” She says and Ava sighs. “Better, got a firefighter’s number.” She says and Jacob squeals.

“OMG you should text her! Like right now!” Jacob says with excitement.

“What? She just gave me her number half an hour ago. That’s way too soon.” Melissa says.

“I don’t know, it looked like she really wanted a text from you immediately.” Janine says and everyone agrees. They then try and push her to text you.

“Ok ok, I’ll text her.” Melissa finally gives in and gets her phone out. She puts in your number and then freezes. “What do I text her?” She says aloud and Barb hides a snicker, Melissa is rarely nervous and she’s nervous right now.

“You could do a simple hi and your name so she knows who it is.” Gregory suggests casually.

No no, u gotta flirt girl.” Ava pipes up with a smile.

“And say what Ava?” Janine asks, and then the group discusses what Melissa should say.

Melissa was half listening to what everyone was saying, but she trusts her gut and sends you a message.

Melissa: Hey, it’s Melissa. From what I’ve already seen, that private tour is gonna be great 😉

Melissa sends it then waits for a reply, it doesn’t take long until her phone chimes with a notification.

You: Hey Melissa! Oh you know it! I'm just as good with a hose as I am with a pole

You: wait a minute, that doesn’t sound right

You: that sounded much better in my head

Melissa: 😆

Melissa: I know what you meant. Flirting is not your strong suit is it?

You: not really

You: much better at taming fires…

Melissa: can’t wait for you to tame me

You: I think you’re probably one fire I can never fully tame

Melissa: that’s true

Melissa smiles from her phone as she has a conversation with you. Unknown to her, everyone stopped arguing and was just watching her blush and smile while texting you.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary

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astermath · 1 year ago

Text

pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader

summary: robin falls head over heels for the cool girl renting horror movies at family video. steve can’t believe her awkward shyness is actually landing her a date, but he’s happy for her nonetheless.

word count: idk kinda short lol under 1K

notes: just wanted to write a little blurb, then it turned into something else, so enjoy this short little meet cute with robin ♡

normal sized font below!

Robin really is that love at first sight kinda girl.

She’s the type of girl to be busy sorting tapes at family video, when you walk in, all pretty femininity and mysterious aura around you. And suddenly she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She doesn’t know where she is, why she’s there, hell, she probably wouldn’t be able to tell you her name if she asked.

She doesn’t stop staring at you, not when you enter and not when you walk over to the horror section to pick something out. Only when Steve nudges her in her side, she snaps out of it, looking more flustered than ever.

“Dude, can you not?”

“Sorry man, it just— looked like you were falling asleep with your eyes open! What’s with you anyways?”

Robin doesn’t respond, simply averting her eyes to the cash register and hoping Steve doesn’t pry any further.

Which would have worked, if you weren’t talking to her right now.

“I’m sorry, can I—“

“Yes! Yes, absolutely, you can…” Robin trails off, realising she hasn’t even let you finish your request. Her own eagerness embarrasses her to no end, her face heating up and her cheeks now closely resembling the colour of a tomato.

To her surprise, you giggle. You’re not awkward about it at all, which somehow makes her fall for you even harder.

“I was gonna ask what the latest time would be when I’d be able to return this.” you smile, and the blonde girl is certain it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

“Oh! Yeah, totally, no problem! It’s uh— a great choice, by the way. I love friday the 13th, sooo good, all that horror stuff, a huge fan—“

“A week.” Steve interrupts her rambling.

“Huh?” Robin turns to her friend.

“To answer her question, since you’re too busy being head over heels over here.”

You chuckle again, and Robin genuinely thinks her head is going to explode. Not only is her best friend making fun of her in front of you, but you’re not even making her feel bad about it. It’s like you find it cute or something. How crazy is that?

“Cool, I’ll just uh,” you hold up the tape, “rent this one then.”

Robin rings you up, her hands moving faster than her mind, and she hopes you don’t notice the slight shakiness in them. It’s not every day the prettiest girl in the whole world shows up at her job, so she’s not exactly prepared.

“Thanks,” you take the tape from her along with the receipt, your fingers touching slightly when she slides them over. Now you’re the one who’s getting the butterflies.

“So, you said you were a fan of horror movies?”

Robin nods enthusiastically, while Steve has to bite his tongue to hold back from saying that that’s the biggest lie ever. Robin isn’t a coward, not at all, but she’s the worst at scary movies. She’s just saying all this to impress you. She doubts it’s working though.

“Well, I was gonna watch this alone, but…” you grab a pen off the counter and scribble down your number on the receipt. “If you feel like watching it together, give me a call…” you pause to read her name tag. “Robin.” You smile again. “Nice name.”

“T-Thanks! You uh, you too!”

“Thanks, even though I… Haven’t told you yet.” You write your name down next to the number. “Now you know.”

“Huh…” She reads it over, not being able to keep herself from smiling like she’s sunshine incarnate. “That is a really nice name though.”

You grin, grabbing the tape off the counter and stuffing it in your bag. “Well, Robin, I’m free this Friday, if you wanna take me up on the offer.” You start walking backwards and give her a quick wave. “See y’around.”

She waves back, although more hesitant. Frankly, she’s still processing the entire encounter, and the fact that you’re real. Someone as beautiful as you exists, talked to her, even gave her your number. She didn’t know a reality like that was possible.

“I can’t believe that worked.” Steve scoffs in disbelief, though he’s pretty stoked for Robin all in all. He wants his friend to find her special person as much as he does for himself.

“Yeah,” she stares as you walk off, “me too.”

The freckled girl groans loudly and drops her head into her hands. “Why the fuck did I say any of that? Why do I always just keep talking?”

“I don’t see the big deal Buckley,” her coworker leans against the counter, “you got your date, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but then what? Then what do I do? I might have been able to charm her with my awkward idiocy this time, but what if we watch the movie and she finds out I’m a huge wuss!” She gestures around wildly with her hands, earning a confused stare from one of the older customers.

“This is going to sound so stupid, and I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he runs his hand through his brown locks, “but just like, be yourself? She seems nice enough, I’m sure she won’t judge you for being a total scaredy cat.”

“Not helping, Harrington.” She gives him a defeated look.

“Sorry, you know what I mean.”

“But what if she does?”

“What?”

“What if she does judge me? I mean jesus Steve, I wouldn’t blame her! She’s like— way out of my coolness league! She’s practically doing charity work watching a movie with me.”

Steve scoffs. “Don’t sell yourself short, Buckley, you’re plenty cool. Besides, if she does judge you, then clearly she’s not worth it. But again, I think you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, already picturing her holding onto you in fear of a completely fictional serial killer. “I guess you’re right.” She goes quiet for a moment, before she’s back to daydreaming about the whole scenario. The two of you on your couch, shoulders touching, maybe an arm around her, hands brushing when you reach for the popcorn, all that sappy stuff…

“Buckley?”

Maybe you’d find it cute that she gets scared. Maybe you’d wanna protect her. She gets that vibe from you, that you’d keep her safe from all the Freddy Kruegers and Jason Voorhees of the world.

“Robin!”

Steve snaps her out of her daydreaming, gesturing towards Keith who’s about to enter the store.

“You two organise those tapes like I asked you to?” Their manager isn’t even looking at them, struggling with putting away his car keys.

Robin swipes the tapes off the counter and stuffs them randomly into the two boxes. That’s a problem for later.

“Yup! All sorted! Good thing I love organising stuff!” She laughs awkwardly, and Steve is fighting for his life trying not to laugh.

She’s got bigger things to worry about right now. Like what to wear for her date with you. And what kind of snacks you like to eat with your movies. And how she’s going to explain that the scariest thing she can handle is Frankenweenie.

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

#robinmath #aster writes stranger things #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley stranger things #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley fic #robin buckley drabble #robin buckley blurb #platonic stobin #platonic!stobin #robin buckley fluff

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ghost-proofbaby · 2 years ago

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FIVE

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, harassment/cat calling, minors dni

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 6.1k+

→ a/n: shout out to @abibliophobiaa for helping me figure this chapter out lol.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

5:00 ───ㅇ─────────────── 24:00

HOUR FIVE - 8:00 PM

Civility. What a fragile construct.

You and Eddie are hyper aware of its presence as the minutes pass. It’s a glass wall between the two of you, offering false security and fragile mediation. When he brings up dinner, and there’s no sign of agreement any time soon as he wants the opposite of every suggestion you make, you catch your reflection in it, reminding yourself to carefully think over your words. Every insult manages to catch in your throat, to simmer until softened to something appropriate. And you know he’s doing exactly the same thing as his pauses begin to drag out between replies, as you lose count of the number of times he’s opened his mouth only to immediately snap it shut.

It works, though. Even with the weight of the agreement in the room, the wall takes the pressure in stride. There’s not a single crack emerging.

Eddie still sits on the couch with you, this time the TV is turned on to some cable show rerun that has turned into background noise for the two of you.

He never moved back to the opposite end of the couch. One wrong move, and your thigh could easily press into his, sink into the warmth that radiates from him. It’s all you can think about as he is trying to convince you that the Lord of the Rings books are worth reading, especially if you enjoy the movies.

If it were any other day, you wouldn’t have noticed when he cuts off suddenly. You would have stopped listening long ago. Which is a shame, not that you’d admit it, because he actually had interesting points to make.

“What?” you scrunch your nose as his stare hardens across the room, at something by the TV. Suddenly, the almost-glare blooms into delight, and you can’t breathe.

“We’ve managed to be civil for a whole forty-five minutes.”

You finally follow his gaze and realize he had been looking at the small cable box, blinking blue numbers on the front screen reading the time.

“Oh,” you say softly, fighting a grin to match his current one, “Yeah, we have been. That’s gotta be a new record.”

It hadn’t been easy, but it had been doable. Maybe the hours could continue to be less doable.

“You know, I thought you would have told me to shut up about my nerd shit by now,” he muses, bringing a hand up to carefully rub at his stubbled chin, legs spreading a bit further as he remains reclined into the cushions beside you.

His knee brushes yours. You still haven’t found your breath that had escaped you from watching his eyes light up in realization.

“I came pretty close,” you tease and nearly lean in, nearly pressing your knee harder into his.

It was becoming too easy to act this way with him. You try to think of a time you’d ever given this such room to breathe. But you draw nothing but blanks, save for the first night you’d met Eddie. A night that had been blossoming with buds of hopefulness and blind optimism that had been cursed to die on the vine.

Although, maybe not all of them had died. There might have been a few dwindlers, and they might have found themselves finally watered after such a harsh winter between the two of you in the revelation of fragile civility these last forty-five minutes.

“Was it when I went on my ten minute rant about how cool it would have been to bring up werewolves in the movies? Or was it my passion for Samwise being a singer?” your head falls back in gentle laughter, closing your eyes for a second. He goes as far as to nudge your shoulder with his own, “Come on, I’m serious! I do hear myself sometimes, you know. I know when I’m being Lord of the Dorks over here.”

Your shoulder burns where he had bumped it. Not from pain.

Your eyes are still closed as you shake your head, “No, no. I think I actually agree with the werewolves, but I’m still on the fence about turning the movies into musicals.”

When you finally do open your eyes, head rolling to face him and press your cheek atop your burning shoulder, you find him staring at you. Which would have been fine, no big deal, if he was still grinning vibrantly.

He’s looking at you with an unfamiliar emotion, an emotion you’d not only never seen him look at you with, but any of your shared friends. It’s almost as if he’s no longer in the room with you.

You’re immediately worried you’ve offended him, “Oh, shit. Are you into musicals? I’m sorry, I tried to get into them, but I just-”

“I am,” the emotion drains from his eyes as he snaps back to reality, “I… But I mean, I get it. Not everyone is into musicals, I was just a theater kid.”

“A theater kid?” your worry is long gone as you sit up, looking at him excitedly, “No way. I would have never guessed that you, Eddie Munson, the most dramatic person I know, were a theater kid.”

He looks down bashfully, and his curls form a curtain around his face. His dimples are effectively hidden as he shyly smiles, and you’re kind of glad for it. “Shut up. Buckley’s more dramatic than I am. Have you ever heard her go off on one of her rabies rambles?”

“Of course. She was also a theater kid.”

“Oh, trust me - I know. We’ve bonded.”

The conversation dwindles, but the ghost of the dimples don’t. He tucks some of the stray strands of the curtain behind his ear, and you start to regret ever noticing the damn things.

“We never decided on dinner, you know,” you blurt out and change the topic, because you desperately need something to distract you right now. You’re starting to believe you might prefer arguing with him to whatever storm was building beneath the surface of civility.

“Oh, shit,” he gasps, turning to look at the clock again, “You’re right.”

Never thought I’d hear you saying that to me of all people, you bite back from saying.

“Most places are closing soon,” he murmurs, more to himself than you, surely thinking back on the way you couldn’t come to an agreement earlier. If you dived back into that, you’d probably spend the rest of the night bickering. But then he lights up again, just as he had when he’d realized your record-breaking streak of civility, “Say, you like bar food?”

—

“Eddie, I really can’t afford overpriced bar food!”

“And I already said I’d pay for you.”

“What about our photo proof? We were supposed to send it ten minutes ago.”

“You texted them mentioning we’ll be a little late with it, right?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Then it’s fine.”

The entire ten minute walk from Eddie’s apartment to what he claims is his favorite bar in town had been filled with the endless bickering, still managing to be lighthearted enough to not cause any cracks in the civility.

He’d chastised you about making excuses, and you hated him, because he was right. Every issue you’d brought up about going to the bar with him had been easily solved with one of his solutions. You were grasping for straws at this point.

Because you were nervous. Nervous that civility wouldn’t hold up in public, nervous that if alcohol was added to the equation that tongues would get too loose.

But none of it mattered. When Eddie initially suggested going to the bar, he’d caught your smile at the idea and realized you two had finally found common ground. He was now a man on a mission.

“I really don’t want you paying for me,” you huff as he holds the door to the bar open for you, motioning for you to enter before him.

“It’s really not that expensive, you can pay me back later if you really want,” he waves off, “Buy me a drink or something while we’re here, even.”

You’d always witnessed Eddie being generous with your friends, always known that he was altruistic as he’d offer to pay for people. Half the time, he never made them pay him back. All he cared about when with friends was everyone having fun. And you’d never been on the receiving end of that — not until tonight.

He bumps into you when you stop just a few steps into the bar’s entry, glancing around the small room. It wasn’t much, two pool tables set up on the far end of the building, a full bar taking up most of the space inside. You could see some sort of jukebox sitting unplugged in the corner and several booths were occupied with patrons already.

It was cozy. It wasn’t going out of its way to impress anyone, and it’s probably why you’d never come inside before. From the outside, you hardly were able to decipher it was a bar, especially in the darkness of the night.

“Sorry,” you turn to apologize, his hands feather light on your biceps to make sure you didn’t stumble from the force of his impact.

He waves it off just as he had waved off your concerns of him picking up the bill for the night, focusing instead on your reaction, “You like it?”

“It’s… nice,” you offer with a shrug as he guides you to the bar. There definitely weren’t any open tables; it was a Saturday night, and even if the place was capable of giving off quaint vibes, there was an abundance of college students who had the same idea as you and him had.

None of them were locked into the same agreement as you two, though. You were sure of it.

The bartender greets Eddie by name, beaming as he promises he’ll come over with his usual soon.

“Wow,” you laugh, lifting yourself onto a stool beside him, “You weren’t kidding about it being your usual hangout.”

“I swear I’m not an alcoholic or anything,” he rushes out, “I just… I dunno. Like you said, it’s nice here.”

You couldn’t believe it. If you dared to look into his words further, you’d swear that Eddie was trying to avoid tarnishing your view of him. He’d never cared about that before.

“I wouldn’t judge you,” you say once the two of you have settled into your seats. Stools were never going to be more comfortable than a booth, but it would do for the next hour. “If you were an alcoholic. I mean, we’re college students. Kind of part of the whole gig,” He looks at you and quirks an eyebrow as he grabs one of the menus from the sticky wood surface in front of you two, “Every college student can be promised three things: unimaginable debt for a stupid piece of paper, the ability to run off of far less sleep than anyone ever should, and a terrible reliance on alcohol.”

He rolls his eyes and mumbles, “You’re funny.”

The surviving buds on the vine nearly prepare to bloom, just about ready to untuck themselves from your chest and press against the glass wall of civility.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“That I’m funny,” your biting grin is infectious, “Tell me again and stroke my ego, big boy.”

He flushes pink on the apples of his cheeks, bright and furious even under the dim lighting of the bar, “Oh, fuck off. I’m never complimenting you again.”

Your newest enemies, those fucking dimples, and the way the blush spreads as he glances down at the menu suddenly become too much. The combination has the ability to choke you, to possibly make your heart stop, if it isn’t for the bartender finally interrupting the moment.

“Hey there, Eds,” the man not much older than the two of you greets, looking at you with unbridled curiosity, “And… lady friend of Eds.”

You don’t know why, but you tell the stranger your name. Sweet and low, soft spoken compared to the way you had just been blatantly teasing the boy at your side.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he chimes with the type of charisma you’re familiar with when it comes to the food industry. You didn’t make tips if you weren’t kind, if you weren’t borderline flirting with nearly every customer by overflowing with friendliness and compliments, “So, I’ve got your regular here,” he places a glass in front of Eddie, something dark with a few sparse bubbles, “What can I get for you, though?” he turns to you.

You glance over at the menu Eddie holds, and he shifts it so you can see it better. But as your eyes glance over the drink options, nothing grabs your attention.

“Full bar, right?” you feel a bit foolish as the man waves behind at the large wall filled with bottles of a variety of alcohol. Duh. “You know how to make an amaretto sour?”

The man grins widely, nodding enthusiastically before turning to Eddie, “She’s got good taste. I’ll be right back with it for you, hun.”

The moment the bartender leaves, Eddie is leaning in closer to you, mimicking you in a falsetto, “Full bar, right?”

His cologne is nice. Something spicy, almost musky. Fitting for him.

You don’t hesitate to shove his shoulder, “Shut up. We’re supposed to be civil, remember?”

“Ah, I see,” his eyes mischievously glint, enjoying this bout of satirizing far too much, “You can tease me, but I can’t tease you. That sound about right?”

“Exactly,” you sigh jokingly, unable to look at him, already knowing the smile he’s wearing, “Sorry you didn’t get the first memo.”

He finally, finally, stops leaning in towards you, and carries the scent of his cologne with him. You decide to lock away that detail of him into the same eternal prison of your brain with the dimples. Another thing about him you need to forget after the twenty fours end.

“My bad, sweetheart. At least I’m up to date now.”

You ignore the vine as it tightens at the casual use of the nickname again. There’s no need to dive deeper into that reaction.

“What’s his name?” you finally look at him, eyes catching on the slope of his nose and sharp jaw in the smoky atmosphere.

“Who? The bartender?” you nod, and he takes a sip of his drink, “Frank. He’s really nice, looks a lot younger than he is, lucky bastard.”

“What, you don’t think you’ll age so gracefully?” you’re back to teasing Eddie, because God, is it easy. It’s a perfect medium between the two of you. Still biting, still a little mean, but not harmful. It’s innocent and refreshing, breathing a new wave of novelty into your relationship, wherever it may currently stand.

“Who’s not aging gracefully?” The bartender, Frank, questions as he places your amaretto sour in front of you. You mutter your thanks, “Because if you’re talking about Eds here, you’re right. Think this guy has aged ten years in the six months I’ve known him.”

Six months? You don’t know why you’re so shocked, but part of you had just figured he’d been coming to this bar for as long as he’d lived in his apartment. Which, to be fair, you didn’t know how long he’d occupied that space, either. It had to have been at least a year. There’s been no mention of him moving the entire time you’ve known him.

“I have not,” Eddie defends himself, hand gripping his drink.

“Have too,” Frank ends the argument there, not giving Eddie a chance for rebuttal before he lets his gaze go back and forth between the two of you, “So, any food tonight, or just drinks?”

“Could we actually get an order of garlic parmesan fries?” Eddie is surprisingly polite, and looks at you after he’s placed the order, “If that’s okay with you?”

You blink, taken back by his consideration, “Um, yeah. That sounds good.”

Frank nods, “Fries. Got it. Anything else?”

Eddie is still looking at you, subtly moving the menu closer to you, as if urging you to help yourself. You pick up the laminated paper, and your knuckles brush against his before you’re glancing over your options.

You curse yourself as your hands shake. You’re not nervous – why are they shaking?

“Are your mozzarella sticks any good?” you finally ask, peering up at Frank.

“They’re excellent. Also, not to brag, but our marinara is the best in town. I swear it.”

You look to Eddie, as if seeking out permission, and he nods ever so slightly, “I’ll take your word for it. One order of those, please.”

“Of course. One order of fries and one order of mozzarella sticks coming right up.”

With that, Frank leaves you and Eddie on your own again, somehow feeling secluded and alone even on the edges of the bustling room. It’s as if there’s a bubble around the two of you, unbreachable by the strangers that surround you.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket catches your attention, just as it had done numerous times thus far this night, and you pull it out to see two new notifications from Steve.

STEVE-O: photo.

STEVE-O: now.

You don’t realize Eddie was reading the messages over your shoulder until he suddenly chuckles, “Jesus, when did Harrington become so demanding?”

“He’s always been this way,” you mutter as you quickly open your phone, the camera app already being opened from your previously provided evidence, “Consider yourself lucky to not be in the groupchat. His attitude grows tenfold through texts.”

“Clearly.”

You turn the phone awkwardly in one hand, choosing to go for a wider shot that captures the bar setting behind you and Eddie. He grabs his glass, holding up his drink as if he’s cheersing the camera.

You’re about to take the photo, when Eddie suddenly sighs, “Oh, come on. Don’t leave me hanging.”

His free hand nudges your own drink into your hand, and you take it without complaint.

You both hold up your glasses, forcing mimicry of annoyed expressions directed at the camera and not each other.

The moment the click of the photo being taken is lost into the atmosphere of the bar, chatter of nearby strangers and clinking of beer bottles together, Eddie’s attention is fully on you.

“To civility,” he says, moving his glass in a grandiose gesture towards yours.

You take a second before you register it. You’re too busy mapping out his face beyond the dimples, beyond the wild curls that catch the bar lighting just right, all the way up to the hiding freckle beneath his right eye and the cotton candy shade of pink of his pursed lips. It’s as if you’re pressing your cheeks into the wall of civility between you and letting the glass fog over with your breath. As if you’re just now seeing Eddie for the first time, no cloak of hatred or distortion of annoyance to keep you from his memorizing features.

You shake your head, try to physically rid your head of the uncharted thoughts before you clink your glass to his, “To civility.”

—

Maybe civility isn’t such a fragile concept. Maybe, just maybe, it’s a reasonable foundation for yours and Eddie’s night.

Over garlic parmesan fries and mozzarella sticks, and several refills of your amaretto sour and his Jack & Coke (you’d found that out when you’d ask to try his drink, and had grimaced at the harsh whiskey), you two practice the act of it almost flawlessly.

Eddie tells you a bit more about the first time he’d wandered across this bar, how he’d been kicked out of a different one earlier that night and simply wasn’t ready to go home yet. Somehow, after the story, once he’s shed his leather jacket to drape over the back of his seat and you find yourself angling your body towards him more fully, the attention focuses more on you meeting the group.

You both have to lean in closer to each other, what at the beginning of the night should have been too close for comfort, as the bar grows busier. You tell him about freshman year of college, that wretched 8 AM math class that’s only redeeming quality was bringing you and Steve together. He was better at math than you, or at least taking notes on the subject. Somehow, the two of you had ended up in an agreement of being ‘study buddies’, as Steve had nicknamed it. Two years later, after several more deliberately shared classes, Steve had finally decided to introduce the girl he’d been ditching their Thursday movie nights for to the gang. It had started with Robin – she’d been in a Psychology class with you and Steve – and all the pieces fell together from there.

“I still can’t believe you and Harrington never… you know….” Eddie trails off and downs the last of his third Jack & Coke. When Frank motions from across the bar if he’d like a refill, Eddie shakes his head and covers the top of his glass with his wide palm.

His rings glinted in the low lights, and your stomach did flips. You blame it on the fourth amaretto sour you were nursing.

“Oh, trust me,” the alcohol has your lips moving more loosely, giggling between your words, “We definitely thought about it. Even got wine drunk one night our sophomore year and tried it.”

“What?” Eddie exclaims, leaning so far into your space now that his curls brush your bare shoulders, “No way. No fucking way.”

“Yes way!” your face grows pink, more from laughter than embarrassment, “It was awful! I mean, in our defense we were both drunk, but still. I just…” you sigh out, and lean back in your stool without even noticing that Eddie has his arm draped over the back of it, “We both realized we were way better off friends. I’m a better wing-woman for him now than some fling.”

“Don’t let Robin hear you,” Eddie chuckles, popping a fry in his mouth before he relaxes back as well. His arm is still on the back of your chair. “You know, he did talk you up a lot before he introduced you to everyone.”

“Yeah?” you raise an eyebrow.

Eddie’s brows furrow as he nods viciously, “Oh, God, yeah. Had us all thinking he was just in denial about having a thing for you.”

“Well, that’s embarrassing.”

“Nah. Only good things. Besides, once Robin met you? It was game over,” if you had been watching Eddie more carefully, you would have seen that unrecognizable emotion crossing his face once more, glazing over his eyes rather than the alcohol he’d consumed, “They really do love you, y’know?”

You don’t know. Which is a shame. Because on your good days, you’d usually tell yourself that they do enjoy your company, that you do fit into the group. But doubt had an easy job of having its way with you when Eddie existed, when Eddie seemingly loathes you.

Your silence answers his rhetorical-turned-serious question, and he’s suddenly leaning forward to catch your gaze, “You do know that… right?”

Your shrug makes his arm fall off of your chair, not intentionally so. It had simply gotten closer to your shoulders with the time passing, and the movement makes it fall limply to his side.

“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eddie groans in what you’re realizing is his usual, playful demeanor, “The entire group loves you so much, it’s irritating. Never shut up about you, inviting you to plans, all that shit.”

“You don’t,” your voice is a whisper.

It’s the first time that either of you had so much as knocked on the glass wall of civility. A gentle tap of your knuckles against an easily forgotten barrier, but a knock nonetheless.

“What?” Eddie squints, and he’s leaning in closer, and you suddenly feel suffocated again. His cologne is in your nose, his faded dimples are in your vision. You could count his eyelashes if you spared him a quick glance.

But you don’t. You can’t bear to look at him, because the entire moment is becoming far too vulnerable.

You clear your throat, “The entire group, except you, loves me. Which, I mean, I get. Not everyone is going to like me, and I’ve sort of been a bitch to you-”

“You haven’t-”

“-and honestly, I’ve really played into the fact that I annoy you so much this entire time. You hate me, I hate you-”

“I don’t-”

“-it’s fine.”

Despite Eddie’s attempted interruptions, you manage to finish your speech, chest heaving by the end of it. He’s stunned, mouth opening and closing multiple times before he finally seemingly collects his thoughts.

“Look, I know I’ve been an asshole, but I don’t really-” he starts, but you’re quick to cut him off. Unlike when he’d interjected and you’d ignored him, he lets you speak.

“Eddie, you said you’d celebrate my death,” you smile sheepishly at him, and you can feel that glass barrier shaking. Bringing up something awful, something terribly mean from mere hours ago isn’t a gentle knock on glass. It’s a slapping of a palm, a dare for cracks to start appearing.

His entire expression falls, “I… That was stupid of me to say.”

“It was,” you agree, because you’re not sure what else you could say, “It was, but I get it. The feeling’s mutual and all, right?”

Eddie is quiet. You almost miss his voice, even with all the other tones of strangers bouncing around you.

“Can I ask why you hate me, though?” you try to keep your tone as light as possible, to not let this moment get any worse. You try to keep your fists from pounding on the glass of civility, “We’ve never really talked about it before. I know you have your reasons – I’ve got mine.”

His jaw clenches. You can physically see his thought process. He’s probably got a million reasons, and right now, he’s just thumbing through them, trying to find the one that won’t break your agreement of being kinder to each other.

“You…” he starts, and the wheels are still turning in his head, eyes looking everywhere but you now, “I don’t know, you just seemed… s-selfish.”

You almost don’t see it – the first crack in the glass, the first sign of civility crumbling.

“Selfish?” you echo back, crestfallen, nearly wounded. You attempt to hide it, to not show him that his words affect you, because you’d asked for this. You’d asked the damn question, fueled by liquid confidence, and he was giving it to you.

“Yeah, just… Full of yourself?” his voice jumps up an octave at the end of his sentence, as if he’s unsure, as if he’s asking you if that’s the right answer. The crack spreads, and begins to distort your vision of him, “I knew you had been sort of popular in high school, and you carried yourself like those popular kids I knew. And… and…”

His eyes finally stop fleeting from yours. He meets your gaze, and you know you weren’t equipped with strong enough armor to hide the wounds he was inflicting. He could see the bruises as his hits landed, accidental or not.

“I just thought you were everything I’d always hated. So I hated you.”

The crack splinters, and hairline fractures split the image of Eddie into unrecognizable pieces. The boy you’d grown accustomed to thus far tonight, the boy you’d grown comfortable with, is gone in your eyes.

“So,” your voice is tight, and you know you won’t be able to keep up with eye contact, not when it all starts to sting so ardently, “You judged a book by its cover, and decided I’m a royal, spoiled bitch. Isn’t that exactly what everyone in high school did to you?”

“How did you-”

“Steve told me. He told me about your reputation, about being a freak, everything.”

The splintering has spread to his side of the glass, clearly, as you say the word freak.

“Is that why you hate me?” his tone hardens, gaze no longer sympathetic. Not that you see the change. “You decided I’m a freak, too?”

“I never said that-”

“No? Sorry, I thought we were just putting words into each other’s mouths.”

The bar is busy, and you wonder if the bystanders can hear the wall of civility finally shattering. You have no idea if any of the shards hit Eddie, but you can feel them dig into your chest, your arms, your stomach. Shards that remind you of what could have been.

Shards that remind you of what was lost because Eddie Munson had decided he hated you long before he met you.

“You’re the one who hated me before you even met me,” you scoff cruelly.

“I never fucking said that-”

“You did, though,” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest protectively, “You said so yourself. Steve mentioned I was sort of popular in high school, and you just- you just decided to shove me into a box of what I would be. Some girl you didn’t even know.”

“Well, pardon me,” he snaps, “I didn’t exactly have the best experience with the popular kids, but you should know that since Stevie told you everything, right? Hell, he probably mentioned it over pillowtalk for your one night together, right?”

You were an idiot. You had let yourself forget that Eddie is not normally kind, that Eddie is not normally so trustworthy as he’s been the last hour. You’d let your guard down, and now, the ramifications were staring you down right between the eyes.

“Fuck you,” you angrily spit, moving to stand up, “I told you that in fucking confidence, because I thought… I thought…”

“You thought..?” he presses as you turn to face him, shorter than him now that you weren’t both sitting in the stools, “What? That we were friends?”

Yes. Because for a moment, I thought we were becoming friends, like a fucking idiot.

His chest is heaving now. Just as yours had during your rant to him, your attempt to soothe over the fact that he hated you. You regret it. You regret ever agreeing on civility.

“My mistake,” you choke out, “It won’t happen again.”

You’ve caught him off guard. Maybe he had been prepared for you to deny it, maybe he had thought you’d laugh in his face at the idea of you considering him a friend.

But you hadn’t. You’d just confirmed to him that you did have that moment of weakness. You’d admitted that yes, for a vulnerable moment, you’d considered him a friend. A confidant over sweetened alcohol, cheap bar food, and trust.

He’d had your trust, and he’d now lost it.

You don’t wait around to see how he takes the revelation. You’re already storming out the front door of the bar, grateful you can still remember which direction his apartment is in. You don’t care if he’s following you – part of you hopes he isn’t.

Until part of you is. Because as you step out into the night, a few shadows against the brickwall are brought to life by your appearance.

“Hey there,” one of the men call out, “What’s a girl like you doing all alone?”

You don’t process that the man is talking to you at first, head down and anger flaming.

“Hey, you!” There’s a sudden hand on your shoulder, making you jolt your head up, “Yeah, you. What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here alone?”

His grin is sinister. Sickly sweet in faux honey, blonde hair swept back and breath reeking of rum.

“M-Me?” you stutter, trying to take a careful step back, to get his hand off your shoulder.

Your heart is no longer racing with fury. It’s pounding with fear.

“Does it look like there’s any other pretty girls out here?” he slurs with a chuckle, glancing around to his friends.

You look around as well, and realize with sinking trepidation that there’s no one else out here, “No. But, uh, I’m good. I.. I’m not… interest-”

“What’s your name, honey?” he leans in closer, and you can’t help but lean back. It makes his grip on you tighten. “I’m Jason. Are you all alone? Because, I’ll be honest, I’ve been striking out all night and would love to take a pretty thing like you home with me.”

“I’m g-good,” you start again, “Please, uh, please let go-” you're shaking your head, trying harder to pull off his hand.

“Oh, come on. It’d be fu-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. One second, he’s pressing too close to you, holding you tight enough to leave bruises as you’re cringing and suddenly squirming to get out of his grasp, and the next – he’s gone.

“Get the fuck off her.”

You’re still too shocked to move, glancing down at your shoulder that’s now red and sore. But you know that voice.

It’s the voice that had just told you he’d hated you before he ever met you.

“Hey, man!” The intruder, Jason, protests as he’s shoved harshly against the wall. “What the fuck?”

You finally look to see what’s happening properly. Eddie isn’t facing you, his broad back and shoulders appearing menacing in the shadows as Jason sinks further back against the wall.

“She’s not going home with you.”

His tone doesn’t waver, even as you catch the clench of his shaking fist.

Jason catches sight of you, still standing where he left you, and the nauseating smirk returns, “I think we should let her decide, shouldn’t we?”

You see Eddie move to raise his fist, and your body finally unfreezes. In an instant, you’re at his side, and your hand wraps around his bicep to prevent the punch he was surely pretending to send Jason’s way.

“Eddie,” you plead, tugging him backwards, anger momentarily forgotten. He doesn’t look at you, but he immediately takes the arm in your hold and wraps it around you in order to tuck you further behind his body, away from the wide, drunken stares of these men. You hate it, but it makes you feel safer, even as you grip the leather of his jacket’s sleeve tighter, “Eddie, please, let’s go.”

“So she’s spoken for?” Jason pushes his luck, still slurring his words.

Eddie’s fist clenches again. Without thinking, your hand not on his arm reaches down to grasp his fist.

Your heart's still pounding. You’re still trembling, shaken up terribly – he can feel it.

“Please,” you beg one last time.

This time, he listens. The fist unravels, and in an instant, he has your hand locked in his, palm against sweaty palm.

He’s not as rough as you expect him to be as he’s dragging you away from the scene. You can still hear the cat-calls, the taunts, of the drunken men, but it only spurs Eddie to walk faster. You struggle to keep up, his long legs carrying him more easily through the long strides, but you don’t protest, eager to get away from whatever the fuck just happens.

Neither of you say another word during the walk to his apartment. Your shoulder continues to ache, your hand stays tangled in his, and you can still feel the prick of civility’s shards in your chest, lodged dangerously close to your vines and closing buds of hopefulness.

Civility. What a broken construct.

–

BIRDIE: they are literally on a date right now.

JOHNNY: I’m not doing this right now.

DINGUS: god, i hate to admit it, but rob’s right. are they at a bar right now? am i seeing that right?

BIRDIE: yes!! i called it!! i fucking called it!!! god, only five hours in and they’re already on their first date.

ARGYLE 😎: love is in the air my dudes

JOHNNY: @ARGYLE 😎Don’t encourage them.

NANCE: It is NOT their first date. Eddie wouldn’t take her to a bar for their first date.

BIRDIE: hold on, how would you know what eddie would do for their first date?

NANCE: He’d probably take her somewhere nice, like whatever this town’s equivalent of Enzo’s.

DINGUS: when the fuck has eddie talked about where he’d take her for the first date?

BIRDIE: nancy what the fuck do you know?

JOHNNY: Lol

NANCE: Forget I said anything.

BIRDIE: nancy, please explain yourself immediately.

DINGUS: nance? when? the? fuck?

NANCE: He was drunk, he probably didn’t mean it.

BIRDIE: NANCY.

JOHNNY: Now you’ve done it.

DINGUS: NANCY.

ARGYLE 😎: does this mean what i think it means?

BIRDIE: NANCE.

JOHNNY: Just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you?

NANCE has left the groupchat.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #twenty four hours

2K notes · View notes

juletheghoul · 1 year ago

Text

Chores

AN: So, things got in the way - as they usually do and I couldn't post on Sunday. Hopefully this makes up for it! This is the third installment, part one is The Party, and part two is The Date. This is totally unbeta’d, so expect a few mistakes lol. Hope you enjoy xox.

Pairing; Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings; piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, Frankie eats pussy like the champion he is, a tiny little ball tug lol, creampie, let me know if I missed anything.

Word count; 2.1k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

He’d been at your place the whole weekend, most of the week too. There were more and more of his things popping up amongst yours, a flannel draped over the back of your couch, his smaller toolbox near your front door, a toothbrush plopped in the cup beside yours on the sink. You saw them all, and relished the way they made your insides feel all warm and fuzzy. Relished how he managed to make you feel safe with his jacket hanging on the coat rack and his big work boots by the door.

His presence in your home, in your life—your bed, was so welcome. Necessary even.

Crucial.

It had been months since that first date, when the dinner reservation had been missed, replaced with ordering in and a night full of sex and laughter. Months of learning everything there was to learn about one another; like the way he took his coffee. Or the fact that he snored, even though he insisted that he didn’t. You’ve learned that he’s thoughtful. He notices, he listens.

He’s a quick study, both inside and outside the bedroom.

He’s an avid reader. He wears glasses.

He prefers action movies and thrillers, grumbles playfully when you put on a romcom but always gets invested, nonetheless. He’s a great cook, but he can’t bake for shit.

You’ve learned that despite already having been married, he’d been an intensely lonely man.

You watch him from your place at the table, enjoying the breakfast he’d made for the two of you. The messy halo that is his hair, combined with the worn cotton of his t-shirt make him almost irresistible.

“Anything you want to do today?” He smiles, catching you staring.

“I have a few things in mind.” You smile back. “Laundry’s piling up, some groceries definitely wouldn’t hurt.”

He hums around a sip of coffee.

“You got a list? I can go for you.” Your mouth cracks open with a smile.

“You’d go for me?” You reach your hand over towards him and he takes it instantly, his dimple making its first appearance of the day.

“Of course, baby. Make me a list, I’ll go, while you start the laundry.” He pulls you gently from where you sit and you let him guide you around the table to sit across his knees. “Of course—“ He skims the tip of his nose along the column of your throat, his lips pressing soft kisses as his arms wrap around you oh so comfortingly. “It’ll cost you.”

“Oh, and just what exactly is it gonna cost me?” You wrap your arms around his neck, curling your fingers into the thick waves of hair at the back of his head.

“I haven’t decided yet.” His lips are petal soft against the exposed skin of your shoulder. “Maybe I wanna spread you out and use my tongue, just how you like.” You shiver at the tone of his words, pressing yourself closer.

“Now how am I supposed to get anything done when you say things like that?” You pull his face up to kiss him, soft and sweet.

“Because it’s better when you wait a little, you get all wet thinking about it, just how I like.” He presses his lips to yours, chaste for a moment before slanting his head to kiss you properly and lick into your mouth, pulling a moan from somewhere in your throat.

He pulls away just as quick as he started.

“Okay, let’s do what we have to do.” He smiles, and you try to remember how to function.

The machine vibrates against your hip, the spin cycle doing its thing and while you wait, you think of him. You practically feel him inside, the stretch of him, the way he likes to hold your thighs open for his tongue. It’s enough to make you hum dreamily, to make you smile, to make you drip into your panties.

The blissed-out smile shifts into a frustrated eye roll.

That tease, with the lingering kiss he’d laid on you at the door, the meaty grab of your ass before jogging out to his truck–grocery list in hand. The machine chimes, and you turn away from your steamy thoughts with a sigh, trying–and failing–to focus on the task at hand.

You catch him smiling as he tucks the purchases away. He notices, but never acknowledges the way you’re ogling him. He knows his words had the desired effect, and can see it in the way your hands fidget, the way you practically vibrate.

“How’s the laundry coming along?” the innocent words do not match the sultry tone of his voice in the slightest. He thinks he’s so fucking slick, and most of the time he is but you know he’s just as wound up as you are. You can see it too, the way his eyes have tracked your every movement since he stepped through the door–the way his thumb swipes across his bottom lip every so often.

“Last load is in the dryer.” Your voice is light, and you wait for him to turn to look at you before walking out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom, knowing in your heart he’ll follow.

You aren’t in the bedroom ten minutes before he proves you right, finding you undressing casually.

“What are you doing, baby?” He stands at the door, arms crossed and leaning against the frame.

“I’m going to lay here, naked, and spread out–just how you wanted me.” You toss discarded clothing items into the laundry basket as you speak to him, smiling at the hungry look on his face, “isn’t that what you said?” You unclip your bra, his gaze raking over you greedily as he moves to join you. You watch him now, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as those big hands you love pull his soft cotton t-shirt up and off, revealing that golden skin you can practically taste.

“Are you now?” He asks even as he watches you scoot back, his tongue dipping out to wet his lip as your legs drop open, showing him just how right he was about the state you’d be in. “God, I can see how fucking wet you are from here.” He already sounds wrecked, his voice dripping in lust, in love.

You smile from your place on the bed, leaning on one elbow while your other hand slides down to where his eyes are locked, fingers dipping into the pool of slick with his name on it to give your clit a quick, delicious swirl.

“All yours Frankie, baby.” You spread the lips of your sex open and he groans, now frantic to kick his layers away in his haste to reach you.

He all but growls, his hand wrapping around the reddened tip of his cock, giving it a couple of strokes before he falls into the bed, and your arms.

There is no preamble in his kiss, no warm up, no chastity. His tongue is obscene, it seeks out yours and lays down the law. His kiss heats your blood, it makes your pussy throb, makes you all slippery for him. It claims you for his own every single time and when he moves his mouth down to your jaw, your neck and further down still, it leaves you drunk.

Your fingers run through his hair when he latches onto one nipple, and then the other, teasing you further still.

“God–I wanted this all fucking day–” You can’t help but gasp when he uses his teeth, the tiny edge of pain heightening the arousal, a boyish grin on his face as his tongue soothes.

“I know baby, me too, thought about this–” He positions you how he wants you, legs up, bent and open. His hands pull you closer to his mouth, roughly and he stares at your cunt like it’s the gates of heaven, “been daydreaming about tasting you all fucking day.” He dives in, his tongue slipping in as far as he can to drink you down from the source before honing in on the center of your universe.

Just like his mouth lays claim to yours when he kisses you, his tongue lays claim to your cunt when he eats it. He relishes it, savors it. For him it’s an art, and he’s a prodigy.

It’s embarrassing how fast he manages to have you mewling.

His fingers spread your lips open, exposing the plump little jewel of your pleasure for his mouth. He smiles before letting his saliva drip onto it, chasing it with tongue.

“Oh fuck–” his rhythm is perfect, precise, the wet steady glide of his tongue rocketing you towards your orgasm much faster than he had any right to and when his fingers slide in to slowly tap tap tap at the spot only he ever seems to find, your universe explodes. The orgasm rips through you like a sunburst, lighting up all of the nerves in your body as you float away.

He slows, but doesn’t stop.

It’s less intense, but no less passionate, his tongue moving again to drink your release down, moving away only to lick your slick off of his fingers. He places a kiss on your mound, another on your belly, trailing them up and stopping to once again give your breasts the attention they deserve.

“Good?” He skims his nose along your neck, waiting until the gears of your mind start up again.

“Uh-huh,” Your arms feel heavy but you need him closer and you wrap them around his neck to pull his mouth towards yours, “you always make it so good.” you can taste yourself in his kiss and it always gives you a thrill. “How do you want me?”

“On your knees.” He scoots back, his hands landing heavy on your hips to get you where he wants you, and despite him having turned your legs to jelly, you scramble to get there.

His palm lands a solid crack on the cheek of your ass and you let out a breathless laugh, his eagerness to slip inside the slick fist of your pussy ramping up your arousal once more. He doesn’t disappoint, he never does.

Even with the stretch of his fingers, even with the way you’ve been aching for this all day, it’s intense.

“There it fucking is,” your heart races, the sound of his voice, the fucked out tone of it is enough to make you moan, “how do you always feel so fucking good, huh?” He punctuates his question with a harder thrust, the blunt tip of his cock practically hitting your womb.

You have no words for him, all you can do is press your face into the mattress and focus on the bruising grip of his hands on your hips, on the wet sounds between your legs, on the way your nipples rub against the rumpled sheets beneath you.

“No words for me?” He’s cocky, in more ways than one as he thrusts into you hard enough to make your flesh bounce. “This what you wanted?” his words are breathless, but his rhythm is steady, “You wanted my big dick huh baby?” you moan because yes, this is exactly what you wanted.

He doesn’t falter as he leans forward, draping himself over your back, his hand sliding around from your hip to swirl around your clit and the effect is almost instant. Your legs tense as he pulls a shorter, but more intense climax out of you.

“That’s it, get me all fucking wet.” He breathes the words into your shoulder, and now he’s somehow pressing closer, getting as deep as he can get.

His breath ghosts along your skin where his face is pressed against your shoulder, raising goosebumps in its wake and all you want in this moment is to have him fall apart. His strokes are steady as the idea pops into your head and you’re almost drunk on the effect it’ll have on him. You reach down between your legs and gently grab his balls, tugging at them softly.

It’s like pressing a button, and he explodes inside you. You relish the punched-out groan he lets out when he fills you with his come, grinding it deep as he collapses onto your back.

It takes him a minute to catch his breath.

“Good?” You ask him, mirroring his tone from earlier and he lets out a breathless laugh.

“Yes, you fucking got me.” He pulls out with a hiss and lays next to you, a blissed out smile on his face, letting out a deep breath before pulling you to lay your head onto his chest. Golden hour shines through the cracks in the curtains, and the comforting thump thump thump of his heart under your ear lulls you, makes you tired and sleepy. He hums, his heart slowing down and now he’s tired too, and the two of you fall asleep together, tangled up and comfortable.

Tag list: @foli-vora @frannyzooey @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @wheresarizona @sherala007 @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @mrs-ghuleh @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @quica-quica-quica @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @deadhumourist @felicisimor @sophiefatale2495 @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @localddreamers @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @maievdenoir @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @softsweetedbeauty @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @squidwell @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed @swtaura @send-me-to-valhalla @shirks-all-responsibilities @androah @alwaysachorusgirl @dindjarinsmut @captain-jebi @gallowsjoker @oliviajdjarin @actuallyanita @tusk89 @dadbodfanatic-x @naiomiwinchester @blazedprince @rosymythologies @avidreader73 @mr-underhills-things @avengersfan25 @tastygoldentaters @nyotamalfoy @mymindfuckery

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #francisco my love #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie x reader #Frankie x f!reader #triple frontier au #frankie catfish morales

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wreckedandpolemic · 3 months ago

Note

DAD!MATTY THOUGHT OF THE DAY!!!

Girlie going away for a little trip with Charli, so Matty is looking after baba for four whole days!!!

And it’s just him looking after them and letting them sleep in Matty and Girlies shared bed when they get fussy 😭😭😭😭

i’m not even lying i felt myself well up reading this it’s so CUTE… you have a sweet little family breakfast (matty cooks, obvs) then you kiss your babies and your husband goodbye and hop into charli’s car. vera’s lower lip is already trembling, ever the mama’s girl, and if she cries, fiona cries. and if the twins cry, alanis pitches a fit for attention, and that’s a headache matty would rather nip in the bud lol.

right, my girls, he says, scooping vera up before she can cry. what do you girls get up to when dada’s not home, hmm? alanis cocks her head, and he can literally see her scheming, the expression so reminiscent of you that he almost laughs. mummy lets us have chocolate for dinner and stay up past bedtime, she says, smiling like butter wouldn’t melt even as she shoots vera a death glare when she opens her mouth. fiona agrees emphatically and he laughs.

matty shakes his head fondly, still idly bouncing vera in his arms. her thumb is in her mouth and she tucks her head into his shoulder, his heart melting as she cuddles in close. i don’t know about chocolate for dinner, but i’ll see what i can do about bedtime, okay? how’s that sound, baba? she considers it deeply, and then nods. d’you wanna build a fort in the lounge? watch some films? and he makes it so sweet and soft and cosy, all your expensive throw pillows and blankets spread out on the floor, string lights wrapped around the chairs propping up the sheets, and despite his bad back and dodgy knee, matty gets on the floor with them, climbs into the fort and lets them crawl over him to get comfy before he starts the movie. he snaps a couple of pictures to send to you of the girls all cuddled up together around him, all smiling faces and curly little heads, and it’s so adorable that you almost want to turn around and go home and snuggle your husband and daughters on the living room floor.

matty ends up with a spread of picky bits for lunch/dinner, popcorn and crisps and frozen pizza galore, and he does let them stay up past bedtime, carrying them carefully up to bed once they pass out in the lounge. of course, he has to deal with three grumpy five- and seven-year-olds who haven’t yet figured out how to sleep in at seven a.m. the next morning (after getting off the phone with you at two teehee) and regrets everything. still, he’s determined to muscle through and maintain his status as a fun dad through the weekend, so he drags himself out of bed and makes them smiley-face pancakes to start the day.

alanis is sulky, fiona sullen and vera withdrawn, and matty’s like you know you could just go back to bed? there’s no law that says you have to wake dada up by pulling on his hair and jumping on the bed at silly o’clock in the morning? but of course, there’s no reasoning with them, so he tries a different tactic, bundling them back into the fort and spinning a slow, soft record until they fall asleep. his sweet, energetic girls are back when they wake up, and fiona pads into the kitchen to find him and excitedly asks to play tea parties. he obliges happily, indulging in their fantasy game with gleeful yes-ands.

it’s only a few minutes after matty’s settled down to sleep himself that vera shuffles into your room. what is it, baba? it’s a school night, you need to get good rest, he murmurs, frowning when he hears her quiet little sniffle. i miss mummy, she says, i want her to kiss me goodnight or i can’t sleep.

oh, sweetheart. mummy’s still on holiday with auntie charli, but she’ll be back before you know it, promise. he lifts her from the floor and pulls her into bed with him, kisses the top of her head and brushes away her tears. i miss her too, baba. come here, darling, just go to sleep, you’ll be okay. she tucks herself into matty’s chest, eyes fluttering closed, and his heart swells.

and ugh i could go on and on and onnnn this is the cutest fucking thing in the world oh this dilf why is he not fathering my children right neow…

#Cheers mate sons crying x #idk why i asked for this it has NOT helped the baby fever #matty healy x reader #matty healy fluff #blurb #writing #white and gold #alanis #vera #fiona

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not-neverland06 · 21 days ago

Text

haunted past

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader

a/n: WARNING: loose recollection of the movie bc I don’t have the energy to rewatch it lol. I’m not planning on following games/book lore bc I don’t have the time to rewatch the eight-hour YouTube video covering it all. So, forgive me if I take some creative liberty. (Dark subjects following the themes of the movie/games below the cut, including the murder of children)

Summary: You'd thought you'd left the past behind. You never thought you'd be back at this place. It's the source of your every waking nightmare and the worst day of your life. Freddy Fazbear's is the catalyst of where your life went wrong, but when Abby's life is on the line, you have no other choice. Can you survive another night at Freddy's? (Part of my Halloween Palooza)

The door creaks open, one eye peeking through the crack. Mike taps his foot impatiently. He glances briefly down at Abby. She’s practically giddy with excitement as she waits for you to open the door. He knows it's only because you’ll let her watch whatever she wants on TV and don’t enforce bedtime.

He hates having to resort to bugging you about this. It’s not like he can pay you for all the times you’ve watched his sister. Relying on you for free labor isn’t exactly the best lead into asking you out—not that he thinks you’d actually give him a chance.

“Christ,” you prop the door open, just barely wide enough for your frame to fit in. You’re not especially welcoming. “What do you want now?”

Abby breaks free from his hold. She shoves through you and rushes into your house. You scoff, turning slightly to watch her. Mike rubs the back of his neck and grimaces. “Don’t tell me,” you stop him before he even gets a chance to start. “You’re back for unpaid labor?”

Mike’s face screwed up, even if it’s true, it still stings to hear. “Look, I’m sorry, I wouldn’t-”

“Do this if you didn’t have to,” you finish for him. With a brief sigh, you close the door and step outside with him. You’re in some of the skimpiest shorts he’s ever seen and an inappropriately flattering tank top. He’s struggling, as he usually does, not to just bolt.

He finds you hard to talk to. Not just because of his usual aversion to the general public, but simply because of how intimidating you are. Besides your already blunt personality, he’s rarely ever had a crush this intense before. It’s hard to stomach these feelings, especially when he knows there’s nothing to be done about it.

“I’ve heard the spiel before, Mike.” His face screws up at the bluntness of your words. You’re normally like this but you seem especially annoyed tonight. You take a seat on the rocking chair on your tiny porch and nod towards the other one. He takes it as a win that you’re not just kicking him to the curb.

You’ve made this place a home more than he’s bothered to. You’ve got a few potted plants littered around the porch, chairs, and your little glass table with an ashtray he’s never even seen you use. You don’t seem like a plant kind of girl, but they're doing better than any he’s ever attempted to take care of.

“What is it this time, anyway? And what happened to your other babysitter?”

He rolls his eyes at the mention of Max. “I haven’t been able to get in touch with her all day. She just left Abby home alone the other night.” Your eyes narrow with anger and you let out a loud huff.

“What a bitch,” you mutter, tucking your legs into your chest.

Mike shrugs and picks at the hem of his sweatshirt. He hates talking to you, he doesn’t know how to. He never knows if what he’s saying is irritating you or not, you’re so hard to read. He barely knows anything about you, yet you’re the closest thing to a friend he’s ever got.

“I’ve got a new job-”

“You didn’t tell me that,” you interrupt, and you almost sound… hurt? He doesn’t want to read too much into it, but he still offers you a whispered apology anyway.

“I’ve been pretty busy, all this shit with my aunt and rent,” he gestures vaguely to his house across from yours and lets out a tired sigh. His head falls into his hands and he scrubs his hands down his face. He hates burdening you with his problems. It’s not on you to be his on-call babysitter and therapist.

You place a light hand on his arm and for a moment he thinks he might be dreaming. You lean forward, forcing him to meet your eye. “Rent? Look,” your face screws up awkwardly and you force the next words out, “I’ve got money.”

“No,” he immediately interrupts, jerking away from your touch as his face sets in anger. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a beggar. He’s not telling you this to get a handout. “No, I don’t want your money.”

You scoff and cross your arms, glaring at him. “I’m not offering it freely. Consider it a loan, alright?” He opens his mouth and you cut him off with a pissed-off look. “Just shut up and wait here.” You get up, slipping back inside your home. He hears you through the open window as you greet Abby.

“How’s school?” You ask, rummaging through something.

“I don’t know, fine,” she answers vaguely.

He can hear you scoff in amusement, “Yeah, I hated school too.”

“Mac and cheese later?”

The door opens and you call a, “Sure, kid,” over your shoulder. It’s another reason he likes bringing Abby over to your place. You seem to be the only person she’s willing to give more than two words to. Besides, you can actually get her to eat somehow.

You approach him with a slip of paper in your hand. You shove it into his unwilling hands and he lets out a rough sigh when he sees it’s a check. “Don’t argue,” you snap, sitting back in your chair and refusing to make eye contact with him. “You’ll pay me back.”

He says your name and you shake your head, clearly uncomfortable. “Forget it, just tell me about the new job.”

He scratches the back of his head, debating whether or not he should thank you for the help. It’s not a lot, he knows you’ve got about as much to spare as he does, and he’ll still need to finish this job. However, it is enough to put some food on the table without worrying about every penny.

Still, you look incredibly disturbed by your own generosity, so he pockets the check and figures he’ll think of a different way to thank you. “It’s a security gig.”

“Really?” You smirk and turn towards him. “Someone hired you after what happened at the mall?” You give him a disbelieving look and he can feel the way his face heats up in embarrassment.

“Yeah, well it’s pretty creepy. It’s at the old abandoned pizza place. Freddy Fazbear’s.”

Any amusement on your face is drained and you give him a horror-struck look. “What’d you say?” You whisper, voice stricken by something he can’t decipher. For a moment, he doesn’t even want to answer you.

You’re completely unrecognizable, the usual stoicism he faces is replaced with absolute terror. “Um,” his brows scrunch in confusion and he clears his throat awkwardly, “Freddy Fazbear’s.”

Abruptly, you jump up from your seat and rush away from him. He watches as you run back to the door, his confusion only rising. He calls out your name but you just shake your head. “I gotta head inside, watch the kid.” It’s a rushed excuse and one he sees right through. “You should go.”

He doesn’t get a chance to question you as you slam the door closed. He gets up, but the lock clicks, and the window slams shut. Mike stands in front of your house, absolutely shocked by what just happened. He’s too confused to be concerned, wondering how what he just told you could have elicited that reaction.

With a low exhale he turns on his heel and walks back to his car. He throws one last glance over his shoulder at your house, but you’ve clicked off the porch light, completely blocking him out.

He shakes his head in astonishment, getting in the car and driving off to the pizza place. What the hell was wrong with you?

You’re glad Abby is in the bathroom as you catch your breath. Your back is plastered to your door, chest heaving as you fight off the oncoming panic attack. The last thing you need right now is her pestering you about what’s wrong.

You clench your eyes shut, but when you do all you see is a golden back and the sharp glint of a knife. Your hand drifts towards your abdomen, subconsciously lingering over the scar. Your eyes shoot open and you shake your head, trying to force the memories of the night away.

You haven’t heard that name in years, haven’t thought of it. You’d thought you’d gotten rid of it entirely. You should have known better, it was always going to haunt you. If you were less of a coward you would have moved away years ago and let the past be buried entirely. But you just couldn’t fully let him go, could you?

The sink runs and the door is thrown open as Abby comes back to the living room. You force yourself away from the door and offer her a tense smile. Her eyes narrow in suspicion and it’s the first time you’ve despised how clever she is.

“What’re you drawing?” You rush the words out, voice tight and panicked. You just need to distract yourself. You need to think about anything but that damn place.

Her suspicion gives way to her typical eagerness to shove her sketches in your face. You don’t know much about kids, but you know she’s not what people consider normal. Not that you mind. However, you’ve never been a big fan of children in general, they bring about bad memories for you. Watching Abby so regularly was happenstance when you greeted Mike as they moved in.

You’d never been the type to have freshly baked cookies and a welcome wagon for everyone in the neighborhood. For the most part, you all pretty much steered clear of each other. But Mike was cute and you felt like flirting for a little bit.

You hadn’t expected him to be quite so awkward, or for there to be a kid. In a desperate attempt to end the conversation and escape how stilted the whole thing was, you offered help if he ever needed it. And he needed a lot.

Now, your weekends have turned from one-night stands and hanging out with people you barely consider friends, to watching cartoons with a kid. You don’t mind it, but you’d prefer it if her brother were there to join you both. His stunted personality has a certain charm you find yourself drawn to.

“Here,” Abby takes a seat on the floor and you join her. You tap your fingers against your thigh, trying to soothe your heartbeat back to a normal rate. Your mind is racing in a million different directions as you take the picture from her.

It doesn’t help, if anything, you feel even worse. Bile and terror make for a bad combination as you stare down at her crudely drawn “friend.”

“That’s Freddy,” she tells you. “Chica, and Bonnie,” she’s all smiles as she points to the different caricatures. All you can do is nod, eyes peeled on the blue bunny.

“You’ve been with Mike to the new job, huh?” Your voice is airy as you flip the paper over and shove it away. Abby frowns, snatching it back from you and smoothing out the wrinkles your grip left behind.

“No. These are my friends.”

Terror makes way for concern as you slowly turn towards her. “What?” You ask quietly, not wanting to believe what you’re hearing.

“They’re my friends,” she repeats slowly, giving you a disbelieving look. She turns away from you, huffing and picking up her crayons again. You scramble to your feet, rushing to get away from her. You grab your phone book and run to the landline. You go over the F’s a million times, but you can’t find Fazbear’s number anywhere.

The entire night is turned into one long, agonizing wait for Mike to return home. You find yourself unable to eat or sleep. You move like you’re walking through a fog. Make Abby dinner, wait for her to pass out, and put her to bed. Then you sit and stare at the blank screen of the TV, just waiting for a knock on your door.

At 5:30, you finally hear it. You shoot off the couch, rushing towards the door and throwing it open. You know you must look insane, eyes wide and face drained of blood as you drag Mike inside.

He stumbles from your grip, giving you an affronted look as you slam the door closed behind him. He glances over his shoulder, making sure Abby isn’t woken up by the noise. “You need to quit!” You shove the words out in one rushed jumble.

His brows furrow and he shakes his head, not quite understanding you. “What?” He asks, scoffing and looking away from you. He glances towards the messy couch and then back at you. “Have you been awake the whole night?”

“Mike,” you grab him by the shoulders, squeezing until he winces from your touch. “I need you to fucking listen to me, you cannot go back. You can’t go back.”

He places his hands over yours, threading his fingers through yours and trying to ease your grip off of him. Neither of you pays attention to the fact that he doesn’t let go. “What are you talking about? I can’t just quit.”

“Mike,” your voice carries a desperation you rarely let yourself show. You know that it’s difficult for people to read you. You’re aloof on purpose, anything to keep people away. But right now, you need him to recognize how vulnerable you’re being. You need him to see the fear and panic on your face and just fucking listen to you.

“You need to leave that place behind and not look back, okay?”

He takes a step back from you and you know you’ve gone too far. You should have played it cool and approached the subject like a normal person would. But there’s nothing normal about Freddy Fazbear’s and you need him to know that.

Instead, all you’ve done is properly terrify him away from you. He releases your hands like they’re hot irons and stumbles a few steps away from you. He has a placating smile on his face as he nods his head shallowly. “Alright, sure,” he mutters, not meaning a word of what he says. “I’m gonna get Abby. Need to get her to school soon.”

He rushes down the hall and you let yourself fall into your kitchen chair. Your head drops into your hands and a hollow pit of despair opens up inside you. You did this all wrong. You always do. Every time you try and help someone it turns back around on you. No one believed you the first time, why would they now?

You hear him walk past you, Abby’s grumpy voice demanding to know why she can’t stay longer. “Now,” he snaps, opening the door and pushing her out. It closes and you finally lift your head, expecting them both to be gone.

Instead, Mike lingers by the door, he has a concerned look on his face as he approaches you. He kneels and opens his mouth with a low huff of breath, “Look,” his hands hover over yours like he wants to hold them. You tuck them away before he can, not willing to make eye contact with him. He shakes his head, stopping himself from whatever he was going to say.

He stands back up, glancing down at you with a frown. “Just try and get some sleep.”

That’s rich coming from him, but you don’t bother saying anything. You only nod your head, willing him to just get the hell out of your house and take his sister with him. You tried, you can’t say that you didn’t.

The door slams closed and you flinch at the noise, a flash of blue darting across your vision. You know it’s not real, it’s just a product of your lack of sleep. You can’t help searching for a pair of blue bunny ears, though.

Dread sinks deep in your gut as you think of losing the closest thing to a friend you’ve had in years. Preemptive grief weighs heavy on you as you get up and throw yourself onto your couch. You imagine the pain of losing Mike and let it be what lulls you into a restless sleep.

As insane as you were behaving yesterday, Mike still has little choice but to ask you to babysit once more. He hesitates, something is clearly going on with you. He’s never witnessed anything beyond vague disinterest in your interactions.

How you acted yesterday would be out of character for anyone, but coming from you, he’s worried that there might be something seriously wrong with you. He doesn’t need to burden you further with his sister, but he needs this job. He’s backed between a rock and a hard place.

He decides to come over without Abby, just to try and gauge how stressed you might be. Your porch light is on as he approaches the house, but he doesn’t see your car anywhere. He’s hoping it’s parked down the street.

He didn’t give you much notice that he was coming over, but you rarely leave the house. When he first moved in, you were gone every night and there was a new car besides yours every other week.

Nowadays though, you seem content to be a homebody most of the time. He’s about to knock on your door when he notices something pink shoved under the ashtray on your table. He frowns, his confusion only deepens when he sees his name scrawled in your unusually messy handwriting.

He unfolds the paper, eyes roving over the words in disbelief.

Mike,

In case you need my unpaid services again, call someone else. I’ve got a date tonight that I’m not gonna reschedule to deal with a kid that isn’t even mine. Maybe you’re right, you really should just give her up to her aunt. God knows you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re a bad friend, but you’re a worse brother. Stop dragging me into your mess and just sort your life out.

The further he reads, the more angry he gets. The paper is crumpled under his tight grip and he cusses as he tosses it into your rosebush. He doesn’t know what crawled up your ass and died, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with it tonight.

As angry as he is, that you could throw something like that in his face, he still can’t help but worry about you. There’s something very wrong with you, lately. But it’s not his problem to solve, you’ve made that abundantly clear.

You fiddle with the rings on your fingers, gnawing on your lip as your eyes dart out the window of your beat-up car. The longer you sit in this parking lot, the more guilt you feel. You know you wrote what you did for the best, but it doesn’t ease the sting of regret.

You wrote some nasty shit to Mike, throwing his deepest insecurities back at him like it meant nothing. But you needed to make sure he didn’t come looking for you. You needed insurance that after all this he wouldn’t want anything to do with you.

Freddy Fazbear’s dilapidated sign looms over you and you could almost cry looking up at it. You’ve run from this moment for so long. You’ve kept your back stubbornly to the past and refused to look.

Surging memories have been buried in alcohol and sex. Remembrances of the past have been erased. You cut off your family, friends, and anyone who knew what happened to you. Yet, you couldn’t leave this town. You could never leave him behind, not when you know he’s still in there.

The taste of bile has laid thick on your tongue since last night. You haven’t had a moment of true rest since hearing that name again, since seeing Abby’s picture. Never, have you labeled yourself as selfless or a hero. The whole reason you’re in this mess is because you’re a coward, through and through.

Now, in an ironic twist of fate, you sit in the parking lot of your childhood and you wait to sacrifice yourself to some higher entity so Abby might have a chance of surviving. You know that what you’re hoping to accomplish tonight is a pipe dream, that you’re more likely going to die than you are to achieve anything fruitful. But you’re never going to be able to live with yourself if something happens to Mike and Abby and you don’t do anything.

You can’t have someone else's blood on your hands again. You left Jeremy behind. You’re not going to do the same to them. You check the clock on your radio and suck in a deep breath. Adrenaline rushes through you as the sun slowly sets behind the pizza place.

Your blood is tingling with the anticipation of being spilled. There’s a phantom twinge of pain from the scar on your stomach. You wince through it, turning off the car and throwing the door open. You’re praying that you’ve left Mike without a babysitter and he won’t show up to his shift tonight.

You round the back of the pizzeria, frowning at the chain on the handle of the door. You brought bolt cutters for a reason, but you were hoping you might be granted a silent entrance. You cut through the chains and they clatter to the pavement, the noise echoes through the quickly darkening sky.

You roll your eyes, pushing the rusted door open and slipping inside. So much for the element of surprise. The hinges creak behind you and you whirl around, grasping for the handle. The door slams shut with a loud slam before you can stop it.

You shrink into yourself, glancing over your shoulder, already expecting someone to be standing at the other end of the hall. Instead, it remains empty. You don’t know if that's better or worse than what you were expecting.

You pull your flashlight out of your back pocket, shine it down the hall, and step silently over the tipped-over filing cabinets. The place is nothing like you remember it. Gone are the bright neon lights and the sound of children’s laughter.

Instead, it’s replaced by cobwebs, flickering lights, and a haunting silence that has chills rising along your arms. You keep one hand along the wall, ignoring the way dust seeps into the cracks of your palms. Your light darts between the ground and the cavernous dark before you.

There’s a suspicious shadow at the end of this hall that you don’t trust. It’s too dark, and you swear you feel eyes following you. But you can’t tell which direction they’re coming from. Something loud cranks at the end of the hall, the sound of gears grinding together stops you where you are.

You freeze, breath coming in short bursts of air as you slowly tilt the light towards the shadow. Before you can see what it is, a shrill, childish scream rips through the air. “Abby!” You shout, rushing towards the noise, ignoring the noises following quickly behind you. You burst through the door at the other end of the hall and freeze when you see Mike fighting off the cupcake.

You rush towards him, slamming the bolt cutters through the faux frosting before it rips his fucking arm off. He stares up at you in shock, he’s already covered in blood and bandages and you can’t even begin to wonder what happened to him.

He mutters your name in disbelief and you stumble back from him, letting the bolt cutters and animatronic drop to the ground. “Mike, what the hell are you doing here?”

He jumps to his feet, speaking to you with an accusatory tone, “What are you doing here? I thought you had a date,” you don’t miss the jealousy in his tone and you scoff.

“You almost had your arm gnawed off by an animatronic, do you really think this is the time for that?”

He opens his mouth, to argue or concede you’re not sure, and another scream rips through you both. You turn towards the side door and your face screws up in fear. “Tell me I’m wrong, tell me that’s not Abby.”

His answer is shoving past you, shouting his sister’s name. You follow after him, barreling through another door and stumbling back as you watch the scene before you. Foxy paces across the room, dragging his hook along the old arcade games.

Mike dives to the right, ducking behind a booth. You see his head begin to tilt towards you and you rush towards the stage, hiding behind it while you look around for Abby. You can’t see her anywhere and you don’t know if you should be relieved or throwing up.

Something loud clanks above you and the walls of the stage tremor under your hands. You clamp your lips together, swallowing down a whimper as you slink further down the stage. The wood vibrates again and you can’t help the slight gasp you let out.

Something clamps down on your shoulder, fuzzy and blue. You feel the metal pushing against the plush of the suit and he squeezes until you hear your shoulder cracking. There’s nothing that can stop the scream from ripping out of you as your bone shatters under his grip. Mike turns just as you're dragged onto the stage.

You’ve only got one arm you can feel now. The other drags along the wood, longer than it should be. You can’t even feel the pain, your blood is pumping so hard you’re blind to it. You lash out at the hand holding you, groping for wires and pulling the second you feel them.

It makes his grip loosen just enough for you to wiggle away from him. You’ve got oil coating your hand, blood drips down your arm. You can’t look, you know if you do, you’ll see your bones poking through your skin. If you look, you’ll pass out and there’s no telling what they’ll do to you then.

His eyes narrow in on you and you scramble weakly on your one good arm. Freddy’s disappeared, and you don’t know where to. You can only look on in horror as Bonnie stalks towards you. Dying at the hands of the friend you’d left behind. It seems poetic, in a way. But you know this isn’t him. This is what that bastard has twisted him into.

His good hand reaches out towards you and you do the only thing you can think of. “Jeremy!” He pauses, the orange light illuminating his plastic eyes flickering out only for a second. For a brief moment, you can see the frightened child within him once more.

Then, something latches onto the back of your hair and slams your head down until the world goes dark.

You glance around the pizzaplex, smiling as Jeremy blows out his candles. His parents hover behind him, bickering silently between each other. Jeremy looks at them, his big smile fading when he sees them fighting again.

“Hey,” you grab his arm as the other kids dart greedily towards the cake. “Wanna play hide and seek again?” He looks at his cake, but he’s never had a sweet tooth. You know he just wants to keep playing, his parents practically had to drag him away from the stage for this. Only to be too busy fighting to wish him an actual happy birthday.

Jeremy nods eagerly, jumping off the bench and following after you. You laugh, darting underneath the balloon arch Mr. Afton had brought out for him.

You and Jeremy come here every weekend, you’re practically best friends with his daughter Vanessa. She’s kind of weird, but you don’t hold it against her. Besides, being nice means Mr. Afton gives you both free pizza.

The only reason Jeremy’s parents could afford to rent this place for his birthday was because Mr. Afton had offered them a big discount. You dart past the stage and hover at the edge of the ball pit. “One-two-three, not it!” You press your finger to your nose, laughing as Jeremy is just a second too late. “You’re looking first,” you command, shoving him slightly away from you.

“Come on,” he whines, “it’s my birthday.”

“No cheating,” you tell him, practically stomping your foot. The big 8 on the paper crown he wears goes ignored as you point towards the booth behind you both. He lets out a loud sigh, stomping his way towards it and turning his back to you. He starts counting, loudly and skipping a few numbers.

You narrow your eyes at his back but don’t hold it against him. Someone hisses behind you and you frown, turning to see Vanessa peeking out from behind a curtain on the stage. She gives you a weak smile, waving you forward.

You look to your parents but they’re not paying attention as they talk to the other adults. You clamber on stage beside her, smiling up at Freddy and Bonnie. She grabs your wrist, not saying anything as she takes you to the back.

“Vanessa?” You whisper, growing a little scared at the darkness of the room. It’s a stark contrast to the bright lights outside.

“Shh,” she instructs, holding a finger to her lips and smiling. “Just wait here, okay? My dad says he’s got a surprise for you.” You watch as she leaves the room, you hear the lock click as the door closes and jump in surprise.

“Vanessa?” You call out again, hoping this is just a stupid prank and she’s coming back. Loud, clambering footsteps ring through the hall outside the front door of the room and you gasp. You look around for a hiding spot, something sick twisting in your stomach. You know Vanessa said it’s all a surprise, but you’re scared.

There’s nothing but empty animatronics around you. Mr. Afton told you to stay away from them, that the springlocks could hurt you. But you have nowhere else to go. You pop open the stomach of Sparky and curl yourself inside her, your eyes just barely looking through the top.

“This way, birthday boy,” Mr. Afton’s voice croons outside. He opens the door, motioning Jeremy inside and you can almost see his smile through the golden bunny suit he wears. You’re starting to feel a little silly. Mr. Afton’s always been nice to you, why are you so afraid all of a sudden?

Jeremy walks in, a bright smile on his face as he looks around the repair room. He stops in front of a run-down Bonnie and looks back at Mr. Afton. He’s in your blind spot, covered by a shelving unit. You can’t see what he’s doing, but you see the way Jeremy’s face drops.

“Mr. Afton-”

A golden hand shoves Jeremy’s face back. His brown eyes widen in surprise, the whites of them the only thing you can see. You can hear his muffled scream against Mr. Afton's paw.

Mr. Afton shoves Jeremy back, pressing him against Bonnie. Something silver flashes under the dim lights and you peek your head up. You watch as Mr. Afton runs a knife through Jeremy’s stomach and he shoves him into Bonnie's open chest. You clamp your hand over your mouth, dropping back down into Sparky.

Your knee knocks into one of the metal springlocks and you have to fight everything in you not to surge forward as it digs through your intestines. You squeeze your hand over your nose and lips until you feel like you can’t breathe so you don’t scream.

Blazing hot pain shoots through your stomach and legs, blood pools thickly down your dress and you can feel tears building along your waterline. Mr. Afton looks around the room, he rips the bunny head off and frowns. A vein bulges in his forehead as he calls out your name.

He wipes the knife off and hides it behind his back. He places Bonnie’s head over Jeremy, “Vanessa?”

A moment later the door creaks open and a sheepish Vanessa pokes her head inside. She looks around the room, frowning when she doesn’t see either of her friends. “Where is she?” Mr. Afton demands.

She shrugs, “I don’t know. I left her in here.” Her eyes narrow and she looks close to tears. “What was the surprise, Daddy?”

Mr. Afton lets out an irritated sigh and waves his non-blooded paw. “Forget that, we need to get back outside.” He rushes towards her, dragging the bunny head behind him, and shoves her back through the door.

The second he’s gone, you’re openly sobbing. Hot tears pour down your cheeks as putrid bile shoves against the walls of your throat. You push Sparky’s stomach open and gasp when you see the large hole in your stomach.

The other springlocks twitch threateningly as you tug at the one buried inside you. You take in a deep breath and rip it out, forcing yourself to leap away just as the others close. Your blood is dragged along the concrete as you crawl towards Bonnie.

“Jeremy?” You call out, head swimming so much you can’t even feel pain anymore. Your fingers are cold as you dig fruitlessly at Bonnie’s stomach. You tug and tug, falling back as the panel swings open.

You can’t see Jeremy’s head, you only see the springlocks digging into his small body. “Jeremy!” You scream, you scream so loud, Mr. Afton can’t even stop the parents from finding you before he does.

You pass out from blood loss before they reach you. In that time he manages to paint you as two misbehaving children. You snuck backstage and messed with animatronics you had no business being around. He said you both must have tried to wear the old suits and there was no way of proving him wrong.

So much damage was done to Jeremy’s body, that they wouldn’t be able to find a knife wound even if they knew to look for one. No one would believe you when you told them he killed him. They just thought you were trying to avoid getting in trouble.

Mr. Afton only managed to keep the pizzeria open for a few more years. But you never went back. You couldn’t. You never forgave him and you never forgot your friend.

The smell of cleaning products and the familiarity of a sterile hospital room greet you as you wake up. Your vision is slow to come back. Eyes foggy and blinded by the bright lights of the room you’re in.

Your fingers twitch at your side and you’re relieved to find your arm still works, even after it was practically shattered by a haunted puppet. You groan, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing them to focus. A messy head of brown hair lays at your side.

Mike is draped across the hospital bed, completely passed out. You find yourself smiling slightly at the sight. You slowly bring yourself into a sitting position and poke at him. “Mike,” you whisper, voice hoarse from lack of use.

There’s a throbbing in your head that pulses along your optic nerve. Your face screws up as you reach towards the bandages wrapped around your temple. You’re honestly just happy to even be alive. You can deal with migraines for a few weeks.

He jolts up, slightly disoriented as he stares at you. You offer him a weak smile and he lets out a sigh of relief. “You’re awake.”

“Apparently,” you mutter. You glance around him, a frown forming on your face.

“She’s getting some snacks,” he tells you before you can even ask. “Abby’s fine.”

You let out a breath of relief, sinking back into the pillows. Maybe it wasn’t all for nothing, then. “You knew them,” he says. “Or, the bunny, at least.”

You nod your head weakly, any energy you had has been sapped out of you from the relief that both Mike and Abby are okay. “Yeah, I used to.”

“Are you going to tell me how you knew them?”

You take his hand in your own, surprising the both of you. “Some other time, alright? I think I want a date first before we start trading childhood trauma.”

He stutters and stumbles over his words, brows furrowing as he gives you a disbelieving look. “Did you just ask me out? While you’re still concussed?”

“Are you saying no?”

He opens his mouth but quickly closes it. He lets out a low chuckle and shakes his head. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Abby comes rushing back into the room before either of you can say anything else. She smiles at you when she sees you’re awake. She jumps onto the bed, uncaring of the way her knees dig into your legs.

“Careful, Abs,” Mike scolds. You wave him off and he rolls his eyes.

“I made you something,” Abby tells you. She hands you a picture and you let out a sharp breath.

It’s you and Jeremy. Granted, crayon versions of the two of you. But it’s him all the same, as the boy you knew, no longer the monster he was turned into. You feel tears building in your eyes as you tug Abby into a fierce hug. “Thank you,” you whisper, holding the drawing close to your heart.

You’d like to pretend that you’ve gotten closure from all of this. Jeremy’s been put to rest and you can move on with your life now. Now, you can have a family again, have friends again. But that would be a lie.

You still feel him, as you always have. He’s a shadow clinging to your back, a haunted past you’ll never be able to let go of. He always comes back.

end. — I do not own the characters or the games/movie Five Nights at Freddy's (FNAF), but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schimdt fanfic #mike schimdt #mike schimdt x you #mike schimdt imagine #FNAF x reader #FNAF movie #FNAF x you #FNAF x fem!reader #Mike schimdt x fem!reader #FNAF imagine #FNAF movie imagine #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy's fanfiction #Belle's Halloween Palooza 2024

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veritable-trash · 1 year ago

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maybe it's never truly over

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader(nickname used but no descriptors!)

Summary: It's been a long time since you've seen each other. For you it hasn't been long enough but for Miguel things are a bit more complicated.

Word Count: 1K

Rating: E - for eventual smut, friends to enemies to friends to lovers i think??? this chapter is tame just seeing if people are interested in what i might decide to cook up <3 :)

A/N: alright alright alright like literally everyone i watched spiderverse and have now descended into the black hole of being obsessed with every character from that movie but this one right here????? yes yes i like him very much. anyways wrote this for fun think i might try another series and see what comes of it. this is not sticking to any canon(lol miguel would be PISSED but this is my multiverse bitch!) because there's such a depth to his character that i want to just play with in this story potentially.

anyways if you like this little intro and want to read more and see where these two little weirdos spin their way off to reblog, send me thirsty thoughts about this man, comment to your heart's content about how his body is shaped like a dorito and i want to eat HIM!

also @dameronscopilot wrote an absolute SPICED piece for Miguel so go read that now if anyone sees this!!!!!

enjoy :)))))))))

masterlist weeeeeeeee

~~~~~

There was something different about today.

Air shimmering like it was about to crystallize and crack at any given moment.

Like the world was gonna stop all of a sudden and dissolve into some weird cosmic puddle.

But not for you. Never for you because even when things felt like they were about to snap, crackle, pop, your life tended to stay a bit boring. It had been a long, long time since you’d felt any kind of twinkle in your life, and you didn’t mind it. The last time things had fizzled like that you’d been left a bit shattered yourself.

Even still, the niggle at the nape of your neck wouldn’t let up. even the sidewalk seemed to wobble under your feet as you traversed the packed streets of Nueva York. Your palms can’t help but start sweating, heart kicking up its pace as the people around you seem to crowd and crowd and crowd.

Alley. You need to find an alley and fucking breath.

You turn in fast on the tight corridor, the smell of garbage helping to clear the dizziness in your head but it still isn’t gone. The feelings still there. Why won’t it just fucking leave you-

“Lyla I got it. Just check the other dimensions and report back to me I haven’t seen any signs of them here.”

And now you know why this an entire day has been like walking through jelly.

Because the second Miguel O’Hara turns around and sees you, everything absolutely shatters.

It’s been years, maybe over a decade since he’s seen you, but you’ve seen plenty of him. The magazines, the news, online, every god damn street corner of this godforsaken city conveniently reminds you of this Dorito-shaped dip shit man.

Nothing changes in his demeanor, to an unseasoned eye, but you remember Miguel from before. Gabe’s older brother Miguel, mama’s boy Miguel, your best friend Miguel, and his eyes can’t hide the things you know deep in his heart.

You don’t even know what to say. There’s nothing left in your brain, just him, still staring, but now from new heights, with new scars, and it scares the shit out of you.

And pisses you the fuck off.

“So what? You go radio silent for over ten years and now you’re gonna stalk me in some alley like creep? Very on brand Miguel but I thought you would have fucking grown up by now.”

His shoulders tense and you can’t stop the way your lips curve as you sense you’ve gotten to him, even if only a little. But then he’s turning away, slowly walking down the alley towards the brick wall and you realize he’s not going to say anything to you. That he’s going to just leave again without a single fucking word.

“Miguel if you don’t turn the fuck around right now and say something to me I will beat the shit out of you I swear to god. I know your weak spots don’t make me fucking use it!”

(it’s just under his ribs, but only on the right side)

“Bichito, pleas-“

“Don’t you dare fucking call me that. Don’t you fucking dare. You lost the right to call me that when you disappeared on me. Fuck you Miguel, honestly I don’t even have anything left to say to you just fuck off.”

This time his face face does crumple just a little bit and you preen at his pain. Suck it into your lungs as the boy who trampled your heart finally gets a taste of how you bled.

You turn back to the chaos of the street and throw yourself into the people, away from Miguel and all the bullshit, earth shattering happening behind you. It’s been a long time since you’ve needed Miguel O’Hara and it’ll be an even longer time before you come back around to his antics.

Probably never.

~~~~~

He fucked up.

Miguel didn’t know how he’d dropped the ball this hard, but he’d fucked up big time and for once it didn’t involve some stupid fucking multiverse drama.

It involved you.

You, the girl from down the block who used to wrestle Gabriel and make flower crowns out of the flowers growing between the cracks in the concrete.

You, the girl who stayed up till the sky started to turn pink again listening to him rant on and on about his shitty dad and his shitty life.

You, his Bichito, his little bug, his best friend, the center of what he thought was his tiny little universe so many years ago.

But he’d left that behind. Thought that he could find something else, find something better, finally be happy in ways he’d never even dreamed of.

And look at where it had gotten him.

He wasn’t ever supposed to run into you again. He was supposed to be vigilant, cautious, knew that running into you would derail him a thousand times over and he had bigger things to be focusing on. Multiverse-altering, dimension-destroying things to focus on.

Yet the universe had dropped you both in that alley and something deep in his chest rippled with feelings he couldn’t seem to find a word for. It was fucking terrifying and he wasn’t going to let it fester.

He had things to do. Universes to fix. An ever growing mantle of responsibility hanging of his shoulders.

A constant reminder of his fuck ups and the reality that he wasn’t going to let himself slip up again.

And yet as his claws carry him up and onto the rooftops of Nueva York, Miguel O’Hara has a terrifying suspicion that he may no longer be able to stay away.

~~~~~

hehehehAHAHHAHA god i love this twisted little sad sack man who just wants to be all rough and tough. anyways haven't written in ages and this character has gotten me at least sorta interested in writing so i just wanted to throw this out there, get something moving, even if i go back into dormancy for another millenia.

well heart eyes for you guys and forehead kisses for anyone who reads i hope your day is a dream <33333333333

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #oscar isaac characters #he is so hot yes yes yes he is so sad yes yesyes #previous tag was literally a little song and dance moment #anyways hot man i want him goodnight

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nnnyxie · 1 year ago

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Hcs about the Rise boys with a younge rsister who is totally like nimona??

Punk music, always thinking about action, super into manipulating and robbery, whines every time one of the brothers knock out an enemy “how come you got to kill them??” <- an actual line from the movie- And basically yeah lol.

please and thank you so much!! Don’t forget to take breaks and take good care of yourself!!

okay so i haven’t watch nimona yet BUT i will do my absolute best at trying to embody her

(aka i did research and i’m praying it was enough)

raphael ;

your relationship with raph is so !!

you respect him so much— like seriously!!! when they first found you, you were very intimidated by him, which made you dislike him.

but overtime you realized he was just a softy that could get mean when needed.

and honestly?? you respected that.

it’s like with mikey— complete opposites but besties!!

you hold him on such a high pedestal, he’s kind of your idol (strength wise mainly).

he’s always saying ‘remember no killing!’ and ‘you cannot kill that guy for not liking your outfit!’.

he’s the cool older brother and you love him!!

donatello ;

now. you’d think that you and donnie would get along great considering you’re both yk… borderline murderers/psychopaths!

but… y’all fight ALL. THE. TIME.

it’s always over who gets to fight which person and who gets dibs on killing ‘knocking out’ said person.

poor raph ALWAYS has to break up your fights. the fights are to the point where it gets PHYSICAL.

BUUUT!! there are times where the two of you get along.

usually it’s when it’s super late and you both are very sleep deprived and running on 16 cups of coffee!

but hey, a win is a win i guess???

leonardo ;

urgh leo… i feel like this is a very one sided hateship (if that makes sense?).

like, you love hate him and his dumb, corny jokes but he adores you!! he adores his little sister!! he’ll shower you in affection like he does w/ the others!!

all the hugs, head-locks, knuckle rubs (i think that’s what they’re called), etc etc.

he just adores you and really doesn’t care if you want to curb stomp him into oblivion (don’t look up curb stomping, just know that it’s violent).

your relationship with him is almost like his and donnie’s except donnie doesn’t actually want to stab him sometimes.

thoughhhh there are times where you’ll show him some love, whether that’s in the form of not attacking him for a few days or silently laughing at one of his terrible one-liners.

michaelangelo ;

first of all—

you and mikey?? complete opposites but absolute besties!!

i feel like he’d see you try to do some dumb illegal shit but immediately go ‘no no no! let’s not do that!’ and pull you away—

he has to talk you out of a LOOOT of illegal things. like. A LOT.

one time you tried breaking into the empire state and almost killed a guard……… mikey thankfully followed you and stopped you!! (why did you try to break in? i haven’t the slightest clue!)

it just fits!!

you’d lay your life on the line for him!! honestly who wouldn’t??? just because he’s too good for this world doesn’t mean he should leave it!!

plus, you and doctor delicate touch are such a duo when need be.

OMG ALSO!!! i feel like you two would totally vibe to bratmobile, bikini kill, le tigre, jack off jill, & just so many riot grrl (fem led punk) bands!!!

y’all are just THE duo!!!!

pls i hope i got her personality correct dkgsldna

also!!! i hope you liked this :)

#rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x sibling reader #rottmnt x child reader

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cinnajun · 1 year ago

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ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 as your boyfriend

a/n: these get progressively longer the more you go on and that’s my bad, i’m just insane over this group idk …

notes: long hair is implied in jiwoong’s, yujin is not included due to his age!, i did not proofread this so sorry for typos

wc | 3.5k

jiwoong

i think this would be so much fun in the like adult way … like doing taxes together and watching tv shows

dating jiwoong means SETTLING DOWN!!! this is for the long run for real

in all seriousness i think being jiwoong’s s/o means you will feel very secure at all times

he isn’t interested in anyone but you … like seriously

looks at you like you’re the only person on the planet when you’re out and about

if anyone hits on him, he shuts it down SO fast that you’ll barely have time to process what happened

in terms of love languages, i’d say his is probably acts of service in both giving and receiving

there’s no better way to show him that you love him than taking care of little chores around the house (especially the ones he usually does) or picking up some toothpaste when he’s running low

in the same way, he loves to do those things for you—he really appreciates the way you smile when you find out he did the dishes for you <;<3

overall, a very sweet relationship, and a very very long-term one

IT’S ALMOST LAUGHABLE how gentle Jiwoong is as he braids your hair, pulling each strand off your head with such precision and cautiousness that you’d think he was braiding strands of pure gold. Weddings were long events, and you’d noticed that, every time you went to one, you ended up with a million knots in your hair that you had to spend extra time brushing out after.

So, Jiwoong had the bright idea to braid your hair—and insisted he do it for you, so that you wouldn’t have to keep your arms raised for so long, or something. You just didn’t think he’d try this hard at it.

“You can go a little faster, you know,” you said, painting your eyelashes with mascara. “If you go any slower, we’ll be late to the ceremony.”

“We can just sit in the back,” he mumbled, continuing to put one strand over the other. “I need to make sure it’s well-done so it doesn’t just knot your hair even worse than leaving it down does.”

You sighed, a little smile appearing on your face. “Whatever makes you happy,” you sighed, continuing to put on your mascara. “Who am I to say no?”

zhang hao

i feel like the most prominent part of dating zhang hao is trying to figure out how you scored him LOL

i mean look at him … he's so perfect it’s almost painful

and he’s such a good boyfriend that literally all of your friends are so jealous … and he’s the only guy they haven’t called ugly so that’s a plus LOL

i will say though dating him has to mean you’re really comfortable with yourself because just about everyone shoots their shot with him

obviously he turns them down but he’s too nice to do it in a way where they’ll actually be scared off (cough jiwoong cough)

he’s very loving and very appreciative, and loves hearing about everything you do

tbh he just loves you

his love language is definitely physical touch, but in the like sweetest way possible

he holds your hand and swings it around when you’re out and about, he leans his head on your shoulder when you watch movies, he puts his head in your lap when you’re sitting on the couch…

and he always stares at you, which is super nerve-wracking, but he just loves you so much that he can’t help it

seriously has heart eyes for you

IT’S NOT ALWAYS that your mom calls, but you supposed today just had to be the day. As much as you love her, she tends to talk your ear off, which is something you’d rather not deal with at a random time in the middle of your day. Nevertheless, it was better to get it over with now rather than later.

Hao had been napping with his head on your lap when she called, and you’d hoped that would be a good excuse to hang up. Except, when you pleaded with your mom, telling her that Hao was sleeping and you didn’t want to wake him, she insisted that she needed to talk to you right then. So, for the past twenty minutes, you’d been listening to her talk about her knitting club while you ran your hand through his hair.

You’d also failed to notice that Hao had been awake since before she’d even called. Initially, he just wanted a few more seconds laying on you before you kicked him off (because your thighs were cramping and you needed to stretch), but he’d been pleasantly surprised when your attention was stolen by the phone call.

So, when you looked down and saw him staring at you oh-so-lovingly, you choked on air, causing your mom to frantically ask you what was wrong. All the while, he stared at you, wondering how he managed to find you (but shouldn’t you be asking that)?

hanbin

if you’re feeling unloved, just date hanbin and he will fix it right up for you

he is an endless pit of love and is just waiting to give it to someone (that someone happens to be you)

you’re like 90% sure he popped out of a cheesy romance novel and wandered straight to your door but i digress

everything about this guy is so pleasant that it’s almost nauseating

his mom, how clean his bedroom is, how much he happens to enjoy cooking, how much he loves all the things you suggest as date ideas, it’s so much that your friends are suspicious that he’s hiding something incredibly unforgivable

he’s not, though, he’s just like that

and he just happened to be truly, madly, deeply in love with you so congrats on that one!!!

hanbin’s love language is also physical touch (shocker)

he’s super clingy, especially when you go out together, and has to have a hand on you at all times (if you get separated it will literally ruin his day)

really loves to cuddle with you…for example, if you decide to take a nap without him, you will wake up wrapped in his impossible to escape koala hug

he also loves kisses. forehead kisses, cheek kisses, all kisses … he especially loves it when you kiss his tattoos

he gets super enamored with you when you give him the same energy back, so try that out, too

EVERY DAY, YOU GET HOME from work around the time Hanbin’s decided to start dinner, and, every day, you attempt the same little prank. Slowly, you enter your home, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

The sound of the nightly news fills your ears, and the smell of whatever Hanbin decided to make attacks your nose. As subtly as possible, you put your bag and keys down on a dresser you have in the entryway, removing your shoes and tiptoeing through the house as quietly as possible.

As usual, Hanbin’s back is facing the doorway, and he’s hunched over the stove, fiddling with whatever he’s making. You tip-toe run up to him, bumping into him and wrapping your arms around his waist. He giggles, as usual, and puts his hands on your arms.

“Hi,” you say into his back, which prompts him to turn around in your embrace, staring down at you with the most loving expression he could muster up.

And, placing a kiss on the crown of your head, he says, “I missed you.”

matthew

CUTE BOYFRIEND!!!

matthew is like so clueless in a relationship and he’s just kind of winging everything, which makes him about 70% funnier

you’ll be out shopping and he’ll pick something up, usually a trinket of sorts, look you dead in the eyes, and say, “is this something people get for their partners?”

if you say yes, it will magically appear in your bedroom like 4 days later and he’ll be oh-so proud of himself

your parents LOVE matthew, to the point where you begin to wonder if they like him more than they like you

it’s nice, though, because they’re more willing to help pay for your utility bill if they know matthew’s benefitting from it too LOL

he’s such a sweet boyfriend that sometimes you like need to stop and put your phone down

his love languages are words of affirmation on the receiving end and gift giving on the giving end

when you’re away from one another, he texts you selfies along with cute little summaries of what he’s doing and absolutely expects you to do the same

also sends good morning/good night texts if he can’t say it in person for whatever reason

also has some like tiktok-worthy beige flags (the comments say they’re all green flags)

like he asks you what your ring size is like once a month and then comes home with ring pops and goes “i had them custom made to fit your finger”

and you’re like “omg matthew i can’t believe you would do that for me!!!”

MATTHEW’S HANDS ARE poorly covering your eyes as he leads you to this mystery-location that he’d spent the entire day hyping up. He swore it was going to absolutely blow you away, and had even said that you’d be at a loss for words.

“We’re almost there,” he said, excitement dripping from his words. “Be careful, there’s a couple of steps here.”

You did your best to ascend without face planting, although it was a bit difficult given that Matthew was unknowingly rushing you due to his excitement. “Okay, are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

In a flash, he removed his hands from your eyes, and it takes you a second to realize what you’re staring at. It’s a table cutely decorated for some sort of picnic, with string lights overhead and a candle burning on the table. You realize you’re in your parents backyard pretty quickly, but the thing that really has you confused is the teddy bear sitting on the edge. It looks exactly like the one you carried around as a kid, albeit much cleaner—but you’d lost it when you were 10.

“I tore apart your house looking for it,” Matthew said, putting his head on your shoulder. “Mr. Tumnus, right? Like the Narnia character? He was behind the couch. I got him cleaned, too. Do you like it?”

taerae

swoon

UGHHHH taerae is so perfect

like he’s totally the boy next door, locker neighbor, church boy type of boyfriend

he asked you out on valentine’s day with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a box of like really pretty chocolate-covered strawberries and you’ve been whipped since

you’re both wrapped around each other’s fingers in the most severe way possible

you’re also definitely like a married couple, specifically a couple of grandparents who’ve been retired for like 30 years

you probably share a friend group, and everyone in the group considers you two the parents of the group (you’re the dad)

almost always, you have a third wheel, but that’s fine because you and taerae are good at making sure it’s not awkward (which is why people always want to come on your dates)

taerae’s love language is definitely quality time

more often than not you’re both doing something completely separate from one another and he doesn’t care, he just likes knowing that you’re around

i don’t see him being the touchiest person, even in a relationship, so spending time together is the only thing taerae needs to feel loved. if you never blow him off and spend all of your free time just sitting next to him, he’ll be entirely pleased forever and ever

SOMETIMES, YOU FORGET that Taerae is in the room with you, which tends to be more embarrassing than you’d have wanted it to be.

Once, early in your relationship, he’d come over and you’d been spending time in your room. Except, hours had passed without you saying a word to each other, and you’d forgotten he was even there in the first place. You were so engrossed in your latest craft project, attempting to crochet, that he’d blended into the scenery of your bedroom.

So, when you kept messing up on a particular stitch, you found it fit to stand up and absolutely scream at the top of your lungs. When you got done, you planned to sit down and keep doing, but you heard Taerae laugh nervously behind you, causing you to freeze up.

“Uh, what was that?”

You turned around, staring at him with what could only be described as horror written on your face. You stared at one another in complete silence for what felt like hours, although in reality it must’ve been no more than five or six seconds.

“I forgot you were here,” you finally choked out, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. Taerae just laughed, and it only made you feel more miserable.

“You’re adorable, you know?”

ricky

ricky is such a sweet boyfriend

even if he’s a bit awkward at times he’s so nice to be around

i think he just cares about you so much that he fluctuates in the same way that you do…if you’re happy, he’s happy, if you’re sad, he’s sad, etc…

at the same, he’s always completely panicked that he is not doing enough for you

he constantly checks in to make sure that you are getting what you need from him, and, while he wouldn’t say it aloud, he appreciates it when you do the same

he doesn’t like conflict so he pretty much does anything he can to get rid of the problem before it happens

as such, if he finds out anything upsetting, he will approach you about it instantaneously

i think ricky’s love language is gift giving, though, both on the receiving end and on the giving end

whether it’s an origami flower made out of a receipt you got or a pretty necklace you found while out and about with friends, ricky treasures it like it’s his child

almost every gift you’ve gotten him is displayed in his room somewhere, like he’s got a whole shelf dedicated to things that you gave him …

all of his gifts are incredibly well thought out too even if they’re last minute

he also tends to just give you anything that you express literally any interest in

you like the hat he’s wearing? okay it’s yours now

“no i mean that i like it on you!!”

he doesn’t care it’s yours now

THANKS TO A FAMILY VACATION, you hadn’t been able to see Ricky for a week, which had been the end of the world for both of you. So, the moment you got back home, you ditched the comfort of your room to head straight to his house.

The moment he opened his front door, you collapsed into his arms, taking in the scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of laundry detergent coming from his sweater. Then, you realized that the sweater he was wearing was new.

You leaned back to get a better look at it, taking it in. “I like it!” you exclaimed, smiling up at him. He tilted his head in confusion, staring back down at you.

“Like what?”

“The new sweater.”

Without even skipping a beat, Ricky tugged it over his head, causing your mouth to drop open a bit. “Wait, no—”

Before you could finish your sentence, he’d pulled it over your head, and was waiting for you to put your arms through the sleeves. He smiled, happy with his sudden attack. “I knew you would, so I got two.”

gyuvin

dating gyuvin is so much fun

you were probably friends before you started dating, so when you start dating, it’s like your friendship amped up 200% along with like some kissing and stuff LOL

he knows you inside and out, to the point where you wonder if he knows you better than you know you

he also definitely had a crush on you for a loooong time before he acted on it so he remembers little details you shared in passing from years in the past

as such he’s constantly taking you out on the most lovely dates you could possibly imagine

you mentioned you like hot chocolate two years ago on a friend group outing? well good news! gyuvin remembered and he’s taking you to a world-renowned cafe that’s specifically noted for its hot chocolate

you like barbie movies???? every single one is downloaded onto his computer. every one. and he knows which one is your favorite

i think gyuvin’s love languages are acts of service + quality time

he just likes doing things for you and he likes doing things with you too … he just likes you tbh

he’d be heartbroken if you ever said no to one of his meticulously planned out dates so make sure to never do that (his friends would also hate you instantly and being hated by sung hanbin AND park gunwook is terrifying so don’t do that)

strangely enough, when you reciprocate the energy and plan out intense dates based on little tiny information, he gets super flustered, so try it out if you can

THE FIRST THING that comes out of Gyuvin’s mouth when he comes into your living room is, “You remembered?”

You’re almost taken aback by the question, eyes widening the moment the words leave his mouth. He was asking you that? After he remembered every little detail about you, from your favorite episode of your favorite show to your favorite breed of dog?

“Of course I remembered that you like soccer. How could I forget that you like soccer?”

You’d set up a little mini-party for the both of you to watch the World Cup, equipped with snacks and a jersey for his favorite team. And, somehow, he was a blushing mess, as if he didn’t expect you to remember something so basic about him.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, turning away from you as he turned beet red. “I just…I don’t know, I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Well, expect it more often,” you said, linking your arm with his, a bright smile on your face. “Cause I love you. And I love doing things for you.”

gunwook

yea gunwook is definitely your first love and you’re really hoping he’ll be the last

you probably had some sort of super dramatic lead-up to you actually getting into a relationship, so you’re also probably super attached to each other by the first day you’re calling him “boyfriend”

even though he’s young, gunwook feels a lot of responsibility for everything in his life, so being with you is essentially his wind-down time

as a result you have a lot of sleepovers, which include doing facemasks and going to bed at like 9pm because he’s so tired

and you just generally spend a lot of time together because you’re an oasis in the middle of the desert for him

gunwook feels really proud that he gets to have the title of “your boyfriend,” so be prepared for him to call himself that a lot

it makes him all giggly and happy, which makes you all giggly and happy, so you’re pretty much giggly and happy 24/7

gunwook’s love language is absolutely words of affirmation

he’s under a lot of pressure (student council vice president, class president, like good lord he is leading the people) so he just wants to hear that he’s doing well, especially from someone he cares so much about

even just telling him that he’s doing his best will make him melt in a pile of i-love-you putty

and he makes sure to do the same for you :)

IT’S NOT OFTEN THAT Gunwook breaks under the pressure, but when he does, it breaks your heart, too. It’s inevitable that he loses his balance sometimes, given the fact that he often takes on way more than he can handle, but you’re always there to pick up the pieces.

“You need to go to bed,” you say as warmly as possible, placing a hand on his shoulder. He continues to write a flurry of numbers onto his paper, trying to fulfill his plans of finishing all his weekend homework so he could spend the majority of it hanging out with you. “You can finish tomorrow morning, okay?”

Gunwook stops, finally, leaning back in his chair. He looks up at you, a frown on his face, and you can tell that he’s starting to unravel. You cup his face in your hands, looking down at him with the calmest smile you can muster.

“You did a good job, tonight. And calculus will be there for you in the morning, okay?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”

You smile, a feeling of triumph overtaking you. “Thank you very much!”

thank you for reading!

#cinna.zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 fluff #zb1 headcanons #zb1 scenarios #zb1 reactions #jiwoong x reader #zhang hao x reader #sung hanbin x reader #hanbin x reader #seok matthew x reader #taerae x reader #ricky x reader #gyuvin x reader #gunwook x reader

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