Hexteam Modern Au Part 3

aaaaaaah

"do you hate me ?" "No" he said. "why ?" he soflty smiled and responded "why would I ?" "you're lying" and that was it.

With these last words, i decided to break up with him. Why ? I don't even fucking know but god how i fucking hate myself for it. But he was gonna leave me one day, i juste... Kind of made it happen quicker. Yeah, i'm an asshole. But i'm the one crying right now, he's probably living his best life, now. Without me. I always thought i was the kind of people who preferred to be alone, or at least, i always forced myself to believe that.

I'm not really... Pretty. In fact, i have nothing for myself. I'm quite stupid and not funny. But hey, that's alright. If someone like him could have loved me, I may not be as dumb as I thought I was. Well, if he really loved me in the first place.

I do not have friends, i do not go out like others peoples do. I'm just... Here. Staying all alone by myself. But that's okay, i'm not feeling anything anymore. So hey, i'm cool. Well, i think i'd be if i could.

Tomorrow, i'll have to go in class. I'll see him. I just know it. Since our breakup, i did not went back to school. It's been two months now. Aha, i'm so fucking dumb, so so so fucking pitiful. I'll probably won't even graduate this year. But that's alright, I've already disappointed my parents, they won't be surprised.

Despite the fact that I left him, i think that if i see him with somebody else, my body will not support it. I'll probably die right away before his eyes. But that's alright, he won't have to deal with me anymore in the future.

I miss him, really really much.

Y/N: How does someone get pregnant?

Nancy: Well, when two people love each other —

Y/N: Like me and Eddie! Keep going.

Nancy: They … they … they sleep together.

Y/N: We slept together!

Eddie: Not like that! No, we didn't.

Y/N: You're my baby daddy.

Eddie: I'll punch you in your mouth.

Y/N: Not in front of the baby!

Eddie: There is no baby!

Y/N: There is a baby!

Eddie: I ain't the daddy!

Y/N: We slept together, Eddie.

Eddie: We slept in the same room—

Y/N: And now I'm pregnant.

Eddie: You're not fucking pregnant.

Y/N: Look at him, cussing at the mother of his child.

Eddie: I can't stand you!

Y/N: Then why did you sleep with me?

Eddie: It was a sleepover, Y/N —

Y/N: Yeah, I was on bottom, you were on top!

Eddie: Yeah, on fucking bunk beds!

Everyone is very confused, looking between the couple that is clearly high.

I love the idea of Eddie having an especially grueling day at work his friend (they have mutual feelings but nothing has been said) offers to give him a massage. Eddie is genuinely grateful but also vv flustered by the end!!

listen. LISTEN. i know this got out of hand. i know i said these were going to stay short n sweet. i know what i said and promised. but. listen. you can't hand me a prompt that is just so delicious, with so much potential to sprinkle in a light dusting of angst, and to give me the chance to garnish with a beautiful open ending full of promise, and not expect a monster of a product to come from it. you just can't. i'm sorry. i hope you enjoy this, regardless. even if it's not quite bite-sized.

warnings: seemingly unrequited love that turns into clearly idiots in love. eddie gets shirtless. that's all.

wc: 4.4k+ yikes

It had started off as an innocent, well-intentioned offer. You swear it did. 

When Eddie had called you right after pulling a double at the garage, begging to come over and simply relax at your apartment, you’d set up to allow him to do just that. You’d cleaned up a little bit, lit a candle that normally gave you a headache if it burned too long but that Eddie loved, prepped a selection of movies for him to choose from, pulled out the menu for your favorite take-out – you’d gone the whole nine yards for your best friend. 

Someone might even point out it wasn’t just best friend behavior at this point. Steve and Robin alike had certainly called out your behavior at times, coining it as “girlfriend behavior on a best friend salary”.

You didn’t care. You were well aware of what you were doing, and you didn’t care. 

You’d spend the rest of your life on the best friend salary, as the two dinguses had so lovingly called it, for the look of sheer peace on Eddie’s face right now. 

He’s leaning back on the opposite end of your couch from you, knees spread and chin facing the ceiling as he sighs in bliss. Take-out containers are scattered about the coffee table, and his movie of choice of Return of the Jedi is about halfway over on your TV. 

You both had already chosen a second movie – The Lost Boys. The plans for the night were set in stone.

You tuck both knees up beneath your chin, side-glancing your best friend for a second and ignoring the flutter of your chest as you watch him sink deeper into the cushions, “We can talk about it, y’know.” 

“Hm?” 

“Your day,” you adjust a bit, turning your body to face him fully, “If you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears. We’ve already seen enough Jabba the Hutt to last a lifetime.”

That earns a smile from him, slowly crackling over his cheeks as he rolls his head towards you, “I dunno. Is there such thing as enough Jabba the Hutt?” 

You toss a piece of your sour watermelon candy at him, and despite it landing on his shirt, he still grabs it to pop it into his mouth. 

You try not to think too hard about how that shirt had been sitting in your drawers, clean and neatly folded, occupying space as if that might be normal. As if everyone has some of their best friend’s clothes at their apartment that they can change into after a long day at work. 

As if everyone has occasionally used said shirt as pajamas on nights they particularly miss the scent of their best friend’s cologne.

“Shut up,” you finally snicker, dropping your knees from your chin, sitting criss-cross now, “We don’t have to talk about your day if you don’t feel like it. By all means, if you wanna keep drooling over an alien slug, be my guest-”

At your teasing, Eddie moves quickly to grab one of your ankles, pulling your feet towards his lap before you can register what he’s doing. You gasp a little, and it’s definitely not because of the feeling of his warm palms wrapped around your bare skin. Totally not at the rush of warmth that travels up your body, head to toe, when you feel his rings pressing into you so eagerly. 

Absolutely not. You gasp, because anybody would gasp in this scenario. Because you’re just best friends. And best friends do stuff like that. 

“I am not drooling over a slug,” he chastises, grinning recklessly as he wiggles his fingers menacingly, mere inches from the bottom of your foot, “Take it back, or pay the price, baby.” 

Has he ever called you baby before? 

Certainly not, if your roaring heart has anything to say about it. 

“Don’t you dare,” you squeal – genuinely squeal – as you try and tug your legs out of his grasp. It’s a useless effort; he’s too strong, even after his long day, and your body isn’t even sure if it approves of taking his hands off of you. “Edward Munson, I swear to God-” 

It’s a mess of flailing limbs, painful laughter, and high-pitched screams from there. Squeaks from your own mouth, and a few from Eddie, mocking you all in good fun as he continues to persist for you to take it back. For just a moment, it feels like this is the normal – you’re living in a space where Eddie comes home from every day, grueling or effortless, to you. Where the two of you always end up on the couch together, bodies touching in any way they can. Where there’s always background noise on the TV as his focus is solely on you, smiling foolishly at his antics that were really just a simple effort to hear your laughter. Where your laughter is the only thing he really wants to hear at the end of the night, and it’s the greatest thing he’s ever heard. 

A world where he tells you as much. 

A world where after this, he’s reaching the knob of your shared bedroom door rather than the front door of your lonesome apartment. 

A world where you aren’t existing on a best friend salary.

“Had enough yet, sweetheart?” he quips, just as breathless as you are from the struggle. This time, the nickname he uses is normal. It took you off guard during the first few months of friendship, but now? Your weary heart could handle it, cherish it even, and not let your stupid little crush get in the way of appreciating it. “All you have to say are the magic words.” 

“Are the magic words, you’re a dickhead?”

“Hm,” he pretends to ponder thoughtfully for just a second before shaking his hand, “‘Fraid not. Try again?” 

Instead of verbally replying, you give him a gentle kick in the stomach. Not the magic words he had in mind, but they sure do the trick. 

He lets out a soft oomph, one arm cradling his midsection as though you actually hurt him. You take it as your cue to remove your legs – his dramatics quickly come to a halt to prevent just that.

It’s probably meant to be subtle, the way both his arms fall down over your calves and keep your feet in his lap, but it has the capability to implode your entire world. 

“I can’t believe you’re being mean to me after the day I’ve had,” he whines, and all you can focus on is the way his thumb is rhythmically stroking the ball of your ankle now, “Me, your best friend, has had the most awful day and you-”

“Now you wanna talk about it?” you laugh a little, rolling your eyes at him.

“Absolutely.” 

“After you’ve just tortured me?” 

“Well, yeah. When else would I talk about it?” 

“I’m rescinding my offer to listen,” you continue to joke, making one more good faith offer to slip your legs from his lap. And, once more, he won’t allow it. 

He whines out a long, drawn out no, starting to lay his entire body across your legs this time. More direct, more to the point. Subtleties have been forgotten, you suppose. 

You don’t know if it’s more for you, or for him. You just know you like it. You like existing within a sneak preview of a girlfriend salary.

“You never answered me, drama queen,” you murmur as the joking lean across your legs becomes a bit more heavy, and Eddie is more genuinely collapsing his figure into your lap. He doesn’t even have to ask, or gesture – your fingers find home within his hair, and you can feel his hum of content against your thigh as you scratch along his scalp, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

All joking pretenses slip away from him as he mumbles out a muffled, “Not really.”

And you can work with that. You swear, you can. 

If you’d been so ready to lend a listening ear, then you can offer him this peace and quiet. A simple head massage as he leans into you, cheeks pressed to the top of your thigh as you think he returns to watching Return of the Jedi. 

His eyes might be closed, if his heavy breaths are anything to go off of. You’re just not sure. 

You just keep up your massage, sluggish strokes, clement scratches, deep breaths to match his own- 

And then, an idea hits you.

“Eds,” you whisper, your hand in his hair traveling to his shoulders, shaking him a bit, “Eddie.”

Only a grunt in response.

“Eddie, seriously, get up,” you stress, overeager, “I have an idea.”

“The apartment better be on fire,” he grumbles as he finally raises his head, face imprinted with the lines of your shorts in rolling hills of soft indents. 

Definitely was sleeping. Definitely wasn’t watching Star Wars. 

But even with his shoulders wrapped with dreary slumber, you’re still excited about your idea, motioning him to sit up fully. You let him take his time, of course, only after he swats your hands away sluggishly a few times. 

Once his back is straight, you lift one finger in the air, and draw a circle – motioning for him to turn his back to you without saying a word. 

His eyes narrow to slits at you, “Are you about to pull a prank on me? Because-”

“I’m not,” you assure him, reaching for his shoulders, nearly turning him yourself, “Scout’s honor.” 

He listens to you. Despite it all, despite his seeming mistrust, he turns his back to you. More specifically, he turns his shoulders to you. 

He’s still mumbling on about how you better not make his day worse, getting a little bit snappier when you gather his hair up to lay out of your way and claiming his scalp was extra sensitive today.

You pay his attitude no mind. He’s just grumpy. It doesn’t particularly phase you after years of close friendship.

“Listen, I know you like braiding my hair, but-” he continues with his protests as you grin behind him, shaking your head as you settle yourself closer to him. Knees bumping his hips, back straight for the time being. “I’d rather just nap right now. And I was really comfy, and really getting my rocks off to that damn alien slug-” 

All his words cut off when you finally put your plan into action. Your palms fall atop his shoulders, fingers curling around the tense skin, and he’s melting before you’ve even begun. 

“I- Oh,” he jumps a little at the first squeeze, but quickly returns to being pliant in your hold, “Oh… That’s…. That’s nice.” 

You continue your massage, gently squeezing, thumbs and fingers digging into any knots you find to work them away as you jeer, “Is it now?”

He nods, the smallest of movements as to not interrupt your work, “It is. ‘S real nice.” 

His head rolls with each pinch of your fingers, posture loosening as he leans back into your touch further. 

You take it a step further, biting back nerves when you slip your hands beneath the collar of his old t-shirt. You feel the shiver begin before it races down his spine at the press of your skin directly on his now. 

Your warm hands work dutifully, determined to bring as much relaxation to your best friend as possible. Definitely not enjoying yourself a bit too much at his smooth skin under your palms. Definitely not enjoying yourself just as much as he is. Certainly not. 

The shirt constricts you, though. Prevents your hands from traveling fully over sore spots you can feel the edges of. Catching your wrists, limiting the full potential of your movements. 

You’re glad he can’t see you as you suddenly request, “Take your shirt off.” 

“Hm?” he can’t form a proper word at first, not startled but simply sunken too deep in his relaxation, “What was that?” 

“I need your shirt off, Munson.” 

You try to sound brave, nonchalant, as you repeat yourself. You don’t want him to hear the fluttering of your heart – you don’t want him to hear the shake of your hands as you remove them from him.

You only want him to hear the totally reasonable request from a friend, who is simply trying to offer the best massage possible to their best friend who’s had a bad day. 

“Oh?” he looks over his shoulder, and you can see the edges of his raised brows through messy bangs, “Damn, sweetheart. If you wanted me naked, you just had to ask.” 

Can ribs break from a heart beating too fast? Is that even possible? 

“I did ask,” your voice is flat as a trade off to avoid any quivering to filtrate it, lips pressing tightly together as you swallow your heart, “So get to it.”

He leans forward, putting a bit of distance between you two before he reaches back to grab the center of his shirt. The fabric comes off with a flourish, and all you’re left face to face with is the bare expanse of his back.

You silently beg him not to look back over his shoulder, if only for just a second. 

You’ve seen Eddie shirtless plenty of times. At pool parties with the entire group, on rare lake days that always ended sun drunk and giddy, that one time he’d answered his door right after a quick shower and you’d seen a lot more than you’d bargained for. He was your friend. After a while, it would have been weirder to not have seen Eddie shirtless at least once. 

Something about this time feels different. 

He has freckles – not nearly as much as Steve or Robin, but they still exist. Small markings across skin glowing warmly in the dim light of your living room lamp, spattered without rhyme or reason. One on the back of his left shoulder, another slightly off-centered at the base of his neck. He has a light scar towards the bottom of his right shoulder blade – a memory from his childhood he told you once when you’d first seen it at the lake. Everyone else was out splashing about the ten-degrees-too-cool water, and he’d joined your side on the shore. Laid on his stomach as you laid on your back, offering you conversation in the form of stories about every blemish across his skin. The intentional tattoos, the unintentional scars. Everything. 

Even that day doesn’t quite compare to the intimacy of him being here now, being shirtless in your apartment, just the two of you. 

Maybe there was something extra in your coffee this morning, making you feel so delusional. 

“I don’t have any lotion or oils,” you finally clear your throat, trying to joke about as the two of you had been before, “But that doesn’t matter. You ready for the best damn massage of your life, Munson?” 

“Yes, please,” he groans, and something deep in your stomach clenches at the sound, “Want me to lay down or something?” 

Your brain short-circuits for a second, because you know where that leads. 

If he lays down, there’s only one way to continue to comfortably give him the massage. If he lays down, you’re about to bite off more than you could chew on a best friend salary. 

“Sure,” you choke out, damning yourself in the process. 

It’s all robotic mechanics as you two shift to assume the position; you stand up, and he sprawls out. And you swear, in the process, you catch a smothering of pink slow creeping across his chest and neck. 

“Can I…” you start to question, finally growing a bit shy as you stare down at the dip of his lower back. Two dimples on either side of his spine, looking so inviting and yet daunting. 

He finishes the sentence for you, saving you the embarrassment, “Sit on me? Yeah, go for it, babe.” 

There it is again. An unfamiliar nickname that falls so effortlessly off the lips for him. Another pet name to send you into a tailspin as your breath catches and your heart races, as though needing to catch up after the fleeting endearment.

“Thanks,” you whisper out. 

You’re starting to regret all your choices, but it’s too late to back down now. You just want to help him relax – that’s all this is. 

Stop making this more than it is. 

You’re exceptionally careful as you crawl over Eddie, placing a knee on either side of him, hovering for just a second as you take deep breaths to hype yourself up to do the inevitable. 

He twists a bit, startling you enough for you to balance yourself with a palm on each shoulder blade, “C’mon now, you’re not going to crush me. You should know this by now,” his eyes glitter, and you know he’s referring to that time you two made a bet he couldn’t carry you bridal style while drunk. He could, “Sit your pretty ass down and get to work, Masseuse.” 

You weren’t imagining the pink across his chest and neck. It’s climbed up now, tendrils tickling his cheeks. The bridge of his nose nearly looks sunburnt from this angle. 

It’s a good look on him. 

“Masseuse?” you snort as you shove him to be fully laying down once more, needing to get his eyes off of you for just a second, “That’s an awfully big word. You been reading without me or something? Becoming a secret genius?” 

Fall back into the normal flow of things. Try not to think about the heat of him between your legs as you sit half your weight down. 

“That is not a big word,” he chides. 

“Spell it, then.” 

“I-” he cuts off as your hands smooth back over his skin, no more restrictions. 

He never finishes his sentence, never complies with your request. All that falls from his lips are soft sighs as you begin the massage again. 

There’s an occasional twitch below his muscles as you knead away, slowly but surely becoming more comfortable with it all. Becoming more mesmerized as you can now see his skin moving with you, occasionally letting up when you skirt past freckles and scars alike, fingertips merely tracing them as he shivers under your delicate touch. 

You do exactly as you set out to do – you relax him. And then some.

You’ve never really gotten into the art of massages, something about it always feeling a bit too intimate. You’d never consider yourself a professional at it by any means – if anything, you’ve been on the receiving end rather than the giving end more often than not. And even those occurrences were rare. 

But when it came to Eddie, it seemingly came naturally. 

Not all of your movements are conventional. You pass back and forth between the usual squeezes of skin you’ve witnessed on TV and from others, and gentle tracing of your fingertips. Drawing shapes, painting pictures that vanish without ever having existed in the first place. Words, sentences, secret messages for just you two. 

When you trace out the endearment of idiot, Eddie seems to catch on, lazy grin peeking up past his curtain of hair covering the cheek almost facing you. 

In another place, where you make that coveted girlfriend salary, you’d trace out three little words on the tip of your tongue. 

You almost do it, too. It’s when you trace out idiot, in fact. You start, entirely subconsciously, with the i. A long pause, a space between words. 

And then you trace an l. One long line down the center of his spine. 

Your finger is already rotating for the o, ready to trace it in the center as the other two letters had been, a signalling it wasn’t a part of that last simple line. 

And then you divert. And you rush to finish out with the i, the o, the t. He laughs a little, the rush of air felt below you as he lets it out soundlessly, and you catch sight of his smile.

A seeming endearment to Eddie, a hidden scolding for yourself. 

Maybe one day you can find the nerve to properly trace it out – or better yet, say it. Speak your truth outloud and handle whatever consequences come from it. Because you do – you really, really do mean it – and those feelings for Eddie can’t seem to change. Something carved into your very soul, unchanging as the years pass. If anything, the carving only digs deeper into you with each month you spend with him. 

One day. But not today, not when Eddie’s had a bad day. It should be a good day when you say it, lessening the blow of rejection, hopefully. 

You almost lose your balance a few times. Each time having to adjust your position of sitting on him, shifting his hips right along with yours. And each time, you notice the catch in his sighs. The way they almost transform into moans, tense noises that seemingly tear from his throat, only dampened by poor attempts to conceal them. Even the back of his neck has grown flushed now, the tips of his ears vibrant when you see them poke through his hair. 

Sometimes, you lose your balance from his shifting, even. 

The air is sticky with tension as you finally finish up. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been an hour – you weren’t keeping score, more focused on continuing on until Eddie’s entire body has gone boneless beneath you. 

Pretty, and pink, and pliant. Entirely slackened beneath your touches. 

It takes more to encourage yourself to climb off of him than it did to climb on originally. Your body protests entirely, knees not caring for the ache forming, inner thighs happy to be bracketing his hips. But you do it. Because you’re just a friend, a best friend, helping your friend relax. 

You stand, towering over him, looking down to find him hiding his face just a bit. “Well?” 

“Well, what?” his voice is entirely muffled by his mouthful of couch cushion, and you furrow your brows. 

“How was it?” 

He lifts his face strategically. He probably hopes you don’t notice, but you do, “Oh! Oh, it was, uh- It was fucking great, sweetheart. I… I swear, your hands are fucking magic.” 

Why is he tripping over his words like that? 

He can’t even look you in the eyes, line of sight darting anywhere but you.

Why is he flushed, head to toe? 

“Yeah?” you cross your arms, and subtly lean to block the TV now displaying credits that Eddie found terribly interesting, “Would you consider it the best massage you’ve ever had?” 

He nods, and you catch the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows before squeaking out, “Oh, yeah! The absolute best I’ve ever had,” his eyes widen at his words, as if he’s made a terrible choice that you’re unaware of, “I mean, you know, I just- you should really consider becoming an actual masseuse.”

That’s when it hits you; Eddie is absolutely refusing to sit up. To remove his hips from your couch. 

He’s blushing, and he’s stuttering, and he’s definitely hiding something. 

There’s a twist in your gut that you can’t reveal. A satisfaction you know better than to celebrate right now. 

Instead, you decide to play with him just a little bit more. 

“Good,” you nod, stepping towards the end of the couch you’d originally occupied. Where Eddie’s knees are stiff against. “Maybe I will consider a career change. But for now – move, Munson. I’m just exhausted.” 

“What?” he looks at you, frightened, only moving his neck to keep his hips flush and hidden away. 

“Get your legs out of my seat,” you laugh a little, leveling him with a daring stare. 

You know what he’s hiding. You’re a bit proud of it, too. 

“Oh, yeah,” he says slowly, and you can see him going over his options in his head. A million excuses he’s probably conjuring, a hundred different escape plans he’s grasping at. “Yeah, of course.” 

And, just as you’d suspected, he doesn’t go with a single one to save his dignity. 

He moves quickly. Tucking his legs up and twisting himself into an upright position in the blink of an eye, and immediately grabbing one of your throw pillows that two of you had tossed off into the floor amidst the original movie night plans. 

He’s fast, you’ll give him that. But not fast enough for you to not catch sight of the tent in his pants. 

You don’t let your eyes linger too long. Swallow down any drooling threatening to begin. Tamper down any desire flaring in your chest and between your hips. 

Best friend salary, you remind yourself even as you grin a tad bit too salaciously for your current cover. Best friend salary, not girlfriend salary. 

You plop down on the seat still warm from Eddie’s legs, sinking back in self-satisfaction. Maybe you had been wrong. Maybe it doesn’t have to be another time, or place, or Universe to get what you want. Maybe all your delusion, that wild imagination of yours, wasn’t so misplaced after all. 

Best friend salary, your mind whispers. For now.

Eddie makes himself comfortable right along with you, still seeming in a much better condition than when he’d first arrived, even if his cheeks had bloomed into a rose garden. He presses that throw pillow of yours protectively over his crotch, and once more focuses on the screen in front of you two. 

“Say, Eddie,” you drawl, almost radiant with your grin. A fire now lit inside both of you. “Think you could be a doll and pop in the next movie for me?” 

It’s a little evil, you’ll admit. But he kind of deserves it for underpaying you over the years, when it’s so clear you’re due for a promotion. Sometime soon, you hope. 

Both your heads turn to each other at the same time, wildly different speeds. Eddie’s neck snaps in disbelief, while you take your time to make eye contact.

All it takes is one knowing look exchanged, and the illusion fumbles on its stilts. 

“I…” his embarrassment, all that flush, slowly morphs as he catches the truth behind your intentions. The hand pressing down on the throw pillow alleviates just a bit, stiff shoulders relaxing as they should have been after your massage as he reflects back just as evil of a glint in his eyes as you had, “Sure thing, baby.”

It’s probably going to be a long night. Surely, the promotion of best friend to girlfriend is going to involve some paperwork. Or an interview, to prove your capability and experience first hand, of course.

But, well, he never did put his shirt back on, did he?

Kiss It Better

A/N- I've seen so many people talking about a Gareth fic where the reader helps him after Jason beats him up but I haven't seen any being posted! I guess I'm glad to be the first

Summary- Gareths neighbor comes over to see him with blood on his face and a nearly broken hand and decides to help fix him up

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- Mentions of blood

Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines @ahzysauce

As you were finishing this week’s homework at your desk in your bedroom, you heard a loud crash that seemed to come from just outside.

Being neighbors with Gareth, you knew that him and the other members of his band would get loud, but it was nothing like what you just heard. As you kept listening out your window you could hear yelling, from Gareth and another guy, you weren’t quite sure who, but you could definitely recognize the voice.

You heard speeding tires a few moments later and looked out your window, seeing Jeff and Grant helping Gareth up, his drum set almost destroyed behind him.

The two of you wouldn’t consider yourselves close by any means but growing up across the street from each other gave the two of you a pretty strange relationship. You would call him a friend, but the only time you spend together was at block parties or hanging out when your parents had dinner but really nothing more than that. Still, you cared for him.

He seemed a bit intimidating at first, but in reality, he was just quiet and shy. You knew how sweet he could he just from watching him play with his sisters and he wouldn’t hurt a fly.

You quickly slipped your shoes on and made your way downstairs, just wanting to make sure he was ok. It was out of the ordinary for you to just go up and talk to him out of the blue but whatever happened you could definitely tell he was hurt.

“Hey,” you said as you made your way up his driveway, “are you ok?”

He shook his head, looking at the hand that was just covering his nose, seeing the fresh blood coating his fingertips,

“Jason…”

“Oh shit…” You took a few steps forward and looked at his cheek, a large cut and his nose had a small trickle of blood flowing from it, his face was swollen too, “do you need any help?”

He nodded as his friends let go of his arms. He tried to balance himself as his friends started picking up the different parts if his drum kit off the garage floor to put it back together,

“You guys clean that up, (y/n) would you help me inside?”

You nodded and grabbed his arm, slowly leading him inside.

Though you’d been over a handful of times, you’d never seen it empty. Every time you were over in the past it was either decorated for whatever holiday party your parents had dragged you to or filled with adults, but every time you and Gareth always found a way to spend time together. You’d go up to his room and watch whatever movies he rented for the week or listen to music and talk. One night a few months ago, the two of you were able to sneak off into the garage away from the parents and share a joint, talking about how strange it was to grow up across the street from each other your whole lives and yet you only ever hung out when your parents got together.

You’d wished that your next hang out was under different circumstances, though it was strange to be left all alone with him without having to worry about your parents finding you.

You had to admit, living across the street from Gareth definitely had its perks. You got to see his band during their rehearsals, you watched him play in the front yard with his sisters, and you had to admit he looked pretty cute when he was mowing the lawn shirtless in the summertime. And he could say the same about you. He got to see you in your driveway when your mom insisted on taking pictures on the first day of school every year, he was able to see your reaction when you got your first car, and he loved the view from his bedroom into your backyard, especially when you were lounging around in a skimpy bathing suit.

Most of the time he had to fight with himself over whether or not he should sneak a picture on his polaroid to keep all for himself.

He did feel a bit strange to be left all alone in his house with you, but now all he was focused on was making sure his blood didn’t drip onto the carpet.

You led him into an upstairs bathroom and sat him on the edge of the tub as you searched through the medicine cabinet and vanity drawers, looking for something to try and clean him up.

“Where do you guys keep your band aids?” You said, pulling out a bottle of antiseptic and a few cotton pads from under the sink.

Gareth pointed to the medicine cabinet, and you were able to find them, along with a bottle of Tylenol.

You set everything onto the counter and took one of the washcloths next to the sink, soaking it with cold water and handing it to Gareth to clean himself up. He winced as he pressed the cold fabric to his face, his hand red and bruised, struggling a bit to keep the cloth stable as he pressed it to his face.

“Here,” You sat in front of him and took the cloth from his hand, gently pressing it to the side of his face to try and let the cold ease the pain as it soaked up the bit of blood still trailing from his lip, “better?”

He nodded, and you gave him a shy smile as you sat there cleaning him up. The small spot of blood was able to be cleaned up pretty easily, thankfully it was nothing too severe, but the cut on his lip and the bruise on his cheek were another story. His hand would definitely need some ice too, especially with the condition it was in.

You removed the cloth from his face and set it onto the counter, grabbing the bottle of antiseptic and a few cotton pads. You soaked the pads and set the bottle back onto the counter,

“This is gonna sting a little bit, ok?”

He took a deep breath and groaned as you pressed it gently to his lip, dabbing at it just a bit to clean it.

“It’s not so bad,” He said, trying to ease the tension as the two of you were so close together, “hurts a lot less than a punch.”

You softly giggled at how he managed to still make you laugh while he was so hurt. It was cute that he was trying to mask his pain, but you knew that he was hurting much more than he led on.

“Alright, I think the bleeding stopped, but you definitely need some ice on that hand.” You took his injured hand carefully into yours to look at it. It was red, bruised, and you could tell he was going to be in pain for the next couple of days, “I think you’ll live though.”

“Oh, thank god,” He said as the two of you stood up, his hand still in yours, “I was worried we’d have to amputate.”

You giggled again as you gently let go of his hand, putting away the cotton pads and antiseptic before pulling out a Band-Aid to put against his lip,

“Well, if you think it’s that bad, I can always just use a knife from the kitchen and save you some money.”

He tried to smile but winced from the cut on his lip. You opened the band aid and gently put it over the cut, your fingertips gently brushing over his lips, and you could see the faintest pink over his cheeks.

“There. How do you feel?”

“A little better… Still hurts but I think if I put some ice on it for a bit, I’ll be alright.”

The two of you exited the bathroom and made your way back downstairs into the kitchen.

“You sit, I’ll get you some ice.”

You rummaged through his freezer as he took a seat at the kitchen table. He looked at his hand and winced again as he tried to move his fingers, but you quickly stopped it as you sat next to him, two ice packs in your hand,

“Here, this one goes on your hand,” You said, placing one of the ice packs on top of his hand on the table, “and this one goes…” you said as you gently placed the other onto his cheek, “there.”

You smiled as he held the other ice pack to his cheek, his fingers gently brushing over yours as he held it. He smiled, laughing to himself.

“What’s so funny?” You asked him with a shy smile.

“It’s nothing, it sounds kinda weird…”

“It’s fine,” You said with a giggle, “it can’t be that bad.”

“Well, um…” He looked down at the icepack in his hand, trying not to look up at you, “it’s just been a while since you had to help fix me up you know? Got that weird déjà vu feeling of when we were little and fucking around in the street and I fell over on the curb and skinned my knee really bad.”

You giggled as you remembered that day, there was a block party, and all the kids were running in the street trying to pop all the giant bubbles from one of the other neighbors’ bubble machines. You couldn’t have been older than seven, and you and Gareth kept trying to see who could pop the most and while he was chasing after one, he wasn’t looking and tripped over the curb.

“Yeah, we didn’t want your parents to find out and get us in trouble for messing around in the street. I think I used that same bottle of antiseptic stuff; it looked pretty old.”

“I think so, yeah. Its weird, it felt almost the same, except it was my face that got all fucked up and not my knee.”

You smiled and gently bit your lip, looking down at his hand on the table,

“Yeah, and I didn’t try and kiss it all better like our moms did when we got hurt.”

The two of you sat there in silence for a moment. It was a bit awkward, and you both could tell you had the same thing on your mind.

“You know…” Gareth looked back up at you, breaking the silence, his cheeks and nose glowing the brightest shade of pink, “it might help a little bit.”

You looked back up at him, though your eyes darted back and forth between his eyes and his lips, and his did the same.

You couldn’t tell who moved first, but the two of you slowly inched closer to one another and before you could even process it, your lips were on his.

It was soft, gentle, and though it only lasted a few moments you could feel a gentle spark between you. You had barely seen each other as you grew older, only spending time together at neighborhood functions, and now you were kissing in his kitchen. Neither of you were sure of what to call this new ‘relationship’ you had, but whatever it was, it was nice.

As your lips parted, you both quickly looked to the garage door as Jeff and Grant made their way into the house,

“Hey man, we got your kit put all back together, I don’t think anything’s broken,” Jeff said as he shut the garage door behind him, looking back at the two of you at the table, your faces bright red and your eyes wide with the adrenaline of almost being caught, “you guys alright?”

“Yeah, you look kinda weird.” Grant said with a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah were totally fine,” You said, trying to ease the tension from you and Gareth, “I was just going.” You stood up from the table and looked back down at Gareth, “I’ll see you around.”

You said with a smile, waving to him and his friends as you quickly left through the garage door.

“(Y/n)!” Gareth called out to you as he followed you out, reaching for your hand, but wincing once again as he forgot all about the pain, he was feeling in it, “You know um… You don’t have to if you don’t want to but, I was just thinking that maybe when my hand isn’t all fucked up, and my face is looking… like this,” he said with a nervous laugh, “maybe you’d want to um… do something?”

You giggled at his nervousness. He seemed so eager to kiss you and yet just asking you out made him so flustered; it was cute to see how nervous you made him even after watching each other grow up right across the street from one another.

You took a step forward and gave him another gentle kiss, catching him by surprise,

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You said with a smile, leaning in just a bit closer to him, whispering, “Tell your friends its rude to stare.” You gave him another gentle wave as you made your way down his driveway and back to yours.

He turned and saw Jeff and Grant standing in the doorway to the garage. Jeff smiled and approached him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder,

“Nice job man! I guess girls are into guys with scars.”

_______________________________________________

If you’d like to read more of my work, make sure to check out my masterlist 🥰

Where to Buy Anime Merch

A random post on my part, but I am an avid collector of anime merch and I’m always itching to get new releases. So I’ve had my fair share of taking chances with different sites!

I’m sure a lot of you are also collectors or are looking to get into collecting — so I wanted to make a post with some trusted websites!

Starting off with some basics

• I typically prefer ordering directly from Japan

Not only do they release their merch sometimes MONTHS ahead of everyone else

They are also a lot cheaper

For example: a figure that is retailing $25-$30 in the US, is sometimes only about $10 retail in Japan

Like I used to pay $60-70 for nendoroids, in Japan they are only $35-40 😮‍💨

The only con to buying directly from Japan is the occasional high shipping prices

I’ve literally spent $150 before just to ship my package — but that was a one time mistake, never again 💀

For me, I live on the east coast of the US, so a good price range for shipping in my mind is anywhere between $15 and $40 USD

Japanese Websites I Trust

AmiAmi

My go to for everything — especially preorders

AmiAmi ships directly from Japan

They do not charge you for preorders until they are ready to ship out to you

They have many payment options — for me I use PayPal because they can make me a Pi4 plan

Their shipping costs are amazing, I’ve shipped 7 figures at once and it only costed me about $25 in shipping fees

Selection wise — they have just about everything you could want

However, there are some products I like to collect that AmiAmi doesn’t offer on their website. So it isn’t a one stop shop for me. Though they typically ALWAYS have what I’m looking for.

Ninoma

I took my chance with this site last week and I just received my package today!

Ninoma has everything I can’t find on AmiAmi

And nearly all of it is only 2,000 yen (so like $15 USD)

They also have reasonable shipping prices!

They have payment options — and once again is supported by PayPal and Pi4

Selection wise — they don’t have nearly as much as AmiAmi. But, as I said, they manage to fill in the gaps that AmiAmi leaves. At least for what I’m looking for!

Meccha Japan

This site seems trustworthy — my package is currently on the way to me so we may or may not be updating this in a few days LOL

I found this website and was amazed by the prices

Tbh it almost seemed to good to be true

But they offered PayPal & payment services so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try

This website has really good deals imo, and shipping is also reasonable

The only downside is the fact that they seem to have a rarity scale for some items that will raise their prices

For example: I ordered my Mitsuri perching figure from Ninoma for 2,000 yen ($15) — meanwhile Meccha also had her but she was listed as “rare” so she was like $35 on their site?

Selection wise: it’s a bit meh compared to the other two I’ve listed. But you can certainly find a lot of items you want for a good price. Even tho I would say the selection can be a bit “meh” I still found some items neither AmiAmi or Ninoma had

Favor GK

This is not your typical merch website LMAO — Favor GK is a scale figure & resin work site.

All figures advertised are LARGE & EXPENSIVE 

I figured I would add it tho — since a lot of people struggle to find good websites to purchase scale figures!

I made my very first purchase for a Tengen Scale figure and I’m so fucking excited but absolutely terrified to see how much the shipping is going to be — he’s nearly 3 feet tall 😮‍💨😳

Websites outside of Japan

Most of these should ship world wide — all are based in the US

Box Lunch & Hot Topic

They surprisingly can have really good selections for anime figures & merch !! Sometimes I’ll even find figures on there released way earlier than other US websites

Sometimes their selection is great — other times it’s meh

They always have sales going on

And don’t forget about hot topic cash / box lunch money

Shipping is obviously pretty cheap ($6-8) or you get free shipping if you spend a certain amount

GameStop

I was super surprised by this discovery two years ago lol

GameStop has a TON

The only downside in my eyes is that the release dates are usually a few months AFTER Japan

If you don’t mind waiting, GameStop is great for preorders since you don’t get charged till it ships

I’ll usually use them for funkos :D

Big Bad Toy Store

This one was the go to before I learned of AmiAmi

Huge selection!!

Flat rate $4 shipping!!

Won’t charge for preorders until they ship

The only downside again is the later release dates

Also they do not offer Pi4 — you will be charged for the full amount

They say they send an email warning you of the upcoming charge before shipping — they don’t 😐

CrunchyRoll Store

This one is still a go to sometimes lol

Large selection

Exclusives!

$8 shipping fee

Things can go pretty quickly on there

Also has the option to receive emails when items come in stock!

Some honorable mentions are

Amazon

Tokyo Otaku Mode

Kozuguru

FYE

Feel free to leave any questions! Though I’m sure these posts have been made a hundred times

I want a Wolfie

Wolfie's wanderings

Wolfie knew that the portal he’d been hurled into wasn’t one of the usual portals they chased the shadow through, but this was bad. He wasn’t in any of the Hyrules he’d been to before, and the world looked, felt and smelt so strange to him.

Roaring metal contraptions were going down roads, people walked on streets and entered mile-high buildings regularly, and he couldn’t sense anything that could get him home.

The best he could do was lay low and wait for the others to come looking for him.

If he could survive that long

.

When your best friend suggested getting another pet after your elderly pet had passed, you weren’t sure. You’d lived with Meatball for so long, knew all of his ticks, his preferences and the best way to brush him without being clawed that you didn’t know if you could even let another animal in your heart. That was until you met Wolfie – the aptly named huge dog looked so miserable and lonely in the rescue yard that you couldn’t help but go over and pet the poor boy.

He was resistant at first but eventually sank into a hug, whining quietly, and your mind was made up – he’d be coming home with you.

That was a few months ago, and you were so glad you took him in; he was such a strange and intelligent beast that you swore up and down knew how to read clocks and open packets of snacks that he couldn’t have gotten into easily – but that was beside the point: he was a lovely boy, and you loved him so much.

At first, he was unsure of everything, but now he’d settled into your home and had his own routine and little quirks – he woke up early, let himself out to play in the yard, and would come in to nudge you awake for breakfast. Wolfie was probably the only reason you woke up early at this point.

It was 7AM, and you knew Wolfie would be coming in any moment, but you wanted to sleep in just a few minutes longer – you really needed it. The door opened, and Wolfie boofed quietly, but you refused to indicate you were awake.

A moment later, the blanket was slowly pulled off you, and Wolfie barked, nudging you with his snout. You yawned, reluctantly opening your eyes to see the adorable dog sitting in front of you, panting happily at you now that you were sitting up.

“You and I need to discuss how important it is to sleep in on the weekends, Wolfie”, you informed him sternly before heading to the bathroom to freshen up.

Wolfie met you downstairs, crowding around your legs as you prepared his breakfast and waited for your toast to finish toasting before slathering it with a healthy amount of chocolate spread. Wolfie whined at you, and you giggled

“No, Wolfie, chocolate is bad for doggos,” you told him, and Wolfie pouted, giving you puppy eyes, but you refused to give in. “It’ll send you to the vet, Wolfie, and I doubt you’ll enjoy that.”

Wolfie huffed, following you into the living room and flopping across your lap. You didn’t mind this at all; Wolfie was incredibly fluffy and warm, so his warmth kept your legs warm, especially now that it was winter, but he was also heavy, though you weren’t about to tell him that.

Crunching on your toast, you scrolled through your phone, reading through the group chat and smirking as your friends roasted one another – you loved your friends; you couldn’t imagine them not being in your life.

Wolfie barked, moving off of your lap, and you raised an eyebrow as he spotted a cat in the yard and slowly made his way to it.

Wolfie was so weird. He loved cats even though they didn’t always love him, and you followed him to the backyard to watch him nuzzle a cat gently and curl up around it. Your boy was so gentle and friendly; he managed to get a lot of the neighbourhood cats to nap with him and could often be seen with a bunch of cats holding him hostage by sleeping on his tremendous floof.

You loved him so much.

.

Wolfie nudged the cat gently with his snout, and the cat sighed.

‘There’s no news about any portals or other worlds being opened on this side’, his informant meowed, and he sighed.

‘It must have been opened from the other side, then’, he surmised, and the cat nudged him gently.

‘Cheer up; you still might find your way home yet.’

Wolfie hummed, returning to sit by your chair as you wandered in after him, taking a seat and petting his ears.

This world was so strange – not only was the magic very faint, but almost impossible for him to track down, and this world was already difficult to navigate on his own – he was glad he had you to gently introduce him to the world around him. He was also eternally grateful that you were so kind to take him in when you still grieving your cat – Wolfie could still smell traces of the elderly cat around your house and knew you must have cared for him as profoundly as Meatball cared for you.

You were a good person, a little odd but well-meaning.

You also had a strange talent of giving him the best ear scratches, which he enjoyed but would deny if the others ever brought it up.

He missed home, and the strangeness of this world clung to his fur like that weird shampoo you’d used on him that he did not like – he’d given you the silent treatment over that, and you luckily didn’t use that foul-smelling concoction on him again. It was embarrassing to be washed down, especially in wolf form. Still, there wasn’t much he could do about it – he didn’t dare transform back into Hylia form just in case anyone caught him, and explaining his whole situation wasn’t something he was willing to do just yet.

He just wanted to go home, but at the same time, he didn’t want to leave you…

You were so kind and loving to him, and Wolfie just knew that you’d love his Hylian form too, and you’d fit into the chain so well, and they’d love you so much, and you’d learn to love the fair land of Hyrule too.

Wolfie noticed you getting up and followed you to your room, abruptly facing the corner and strictly staring at the wall as he saw you changing your clothes.

You laughed for some reason, “You’re so well-behaved, Wolfie!”

Wolfie huffed, and you giggled, reaching over to pet his ears, but he refused to look at you in such a state of undress, especially when you didn’t know his true nature and couldn’t consent to change in front of him like this.

“If you were secretly a human turned into a dog, you’d tell me, right?” there was a joking tone to your question, and Wolfie looked at you and barked, tilting his head, making his best impression of a regular dog.

Could you know?

No, there was no way you could know

You were probably just joking, but that didn’t stop his unease. He couldn’t let you know, not now! Yes, he had known you for months at this point, but he wasn’t ready to reveal himself to you just yet, nor could he prove anything about his world without transforming first and needlessly scaring you – he needed to handle the reveal with tact.

You headed out the door, giving a few pats goodbye before locking the door, and Wolfie wandered over to your bed and flopped onto it, taking in your scent.

He loved you so much and just wished this horrible nightmare was over so he could take you home with him; you’d live a charmed life in Ordon with him away from all the hustle and bustle of this confusing modern world – he’d take care of all the farm life and you’d just have to sit and enjoy life with him. Maybe he could adopt a dog, too, since you clearly loved Wolfie.

That sounded like a good idea….

But first, he needed to get home.

.

Hours had passed before you finally returned home, but you didn’t enter your house just yet, opting to stare through the window at what Wolfie was doing.

Sitting on the highest perch of the cat tower was Wolfie, completely at ease with the situation but staring morosely outside the window.

You couldn’t help it; you cackled.

Wolfie must have heard you because he brightened up and leapt down, barking up a storm as you giggled, unlocking the door and petting him as he attacked you with kisses and licks as you entered.

“Hi, baby! Hi!” you cooed, rubbing his ears as he snuffled about your legs, following you as you shucked your coat and boots before getting started on dinner.

.

Wolfie couldn’t help but be excited when you returned, he had been bored as he usually was when you left, and nothing you left him was entertaining enough – he wasn’t some simple dog that you could leave with destructible toys, but you didn’t know that, and he could never blame you.

He also loved watching you cook – you ranted about your day at work, sang some silly made-up song about whatever vegetable you were chopping, or simply sang to him as you cooked. You sometimes dropped scraps, and he was not above munching on them as they fell – sometimes, you even slipped him some extra vegetables that you didn’t need, which he happily crunched on.

“My cute little Wolfie,” you cooed, twirling around him, draining a pot and Wolfie’s tail wagged watching you; you were so full of life and love and were so adorable. “I wish I could talk to you and know what’s on your mind.”

Wolfie barked in agreement; he wished he could speak to you openly, too, to not be forced to hide like this until he found a way home. You poured out some kibble for him, and while he disliked such foods, it was apparently good for him, and he didn’t like seeing you upset at him for not eating.

The first day you had brought him home, you had poured out some kibble, but he refused to eat it, so you had sat there for hours, pleading for him to eat.

“Please, Wolfie! It’s really good for you!” you begged, looking at him with such an upset expression that he remembered feeling so bad. “Please just eat at least one bite! Please, I promise I’ll let you be afterwards!”

He remembered caving soon after, and you had cheered, scratching behind his ears and almost cried with relief when he continued eating. Of course, Wolfie would eat that disgusting food if it meant that you were happy with him, and he was so glad he hadn’t upset you like that again.

The only other time he’d seen you so upset was when an old boyfriend of yours had cheated on you, and Wolfie couldn’t help but feel bad for you. You were such a nice person, and he hadn’t known you all that long at that point, and he remembered crawling into your lap and simply comforting you that way. It had worked, and Wolfie enjoyed the snuggles and cuddles too, and they had become a regular fixture in your routine.

Now, Wolfie watched you wash the dishes, humming a song under your breath, and he simply sat there, watching you with his tail wagging. Being around you was so nice and calming, and he quickly followed you up to your room as you headed to bed, giving him a few pats as he laid down next to you to sleep.

He had dozed off, but his ears perked at the strange sound in your room.

Sitting up, his eyes caught the unmistakable sight of a portal opening up, and his senses instantly told him this was back to Hyrule, back to his pack, back to where he belonged.

Practically leaping out of bed, he transformed back into his Hylian form, stretching slightly to get used to this body again and paused, looking at you.

He had long debated about whether or not to bring you with him when the time came and has chosen to take you with him. Now that the moment was here, he couldn’t help but brush your cheek gently with a smile.

Link couldn’t stand the idea of not being with you – he had already been separated by worlds from Midna, and he wasn’t about to let this happen again with you! Scooping you up in his arms quickly, he grabbed a few of your blankets and hopped through the portal, the glowing doorway disappearing as he entered.

He was going home and would have his love with him this time.

.

A/N: remember that pic I posted a while ago captioned "Wolfie waiting for Y/N to come home", this is the fic that goes with itea[o[sgjph

@cloudninetonine @xynnia @times-bisoprolol

More Wolfie? More Wolfie!

Basically, Wolfie got yeeted to the modern world and was rescued. Reader adopted him and he quickly got attached so when the time came to go back to Hyrule, he took Y/N with him bc of course they'd love Hyrule and him and everything/s

In the modern world, Wolfie just looks like a wolf dog, not an actual wolf, and he is the best boi to Reader

LMK what you think please!

I just made these <3 feel free to use them, I would rather have you give credit but I don’t mind if you don’t want to ♥︎

me and the girlies saying hi to each other