#bmc reader insert

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader] pt.7

wow it took 30 years didnt it. i did it, fuckers. please give me attention-

anyway, heres the final part :) do i know how to proofread? no. thats it thats all i was gonna say, i just dont know how to proofread.

warnings: uhhh none i dont think

                                                            -

              In the middle of August, the Ninja Sex Party dropped their newest album “Cool Patrol” and the two of you were in love. You were in Jeremy’s room, lying on his bed beside him sharing headphones as the album played, and it all felt so teenage rom-com that Jeremy was half-distracted the entire time by you and lost different lyrics because of that. “Orgy for One” played and you nudged Jeremy before mouthing “you” to him with a playful look in your eyes and a smile that set his heart racing. He laughed, and nudged you back just as playful before the beginning to “Danny Don’t You Know” brought the two of you back into reality. He was emotional, and so were you, and there was something about sharing an emotion with someone that was intimate enough to make his heart skip a beat. 

             Your phone buzzed after a while, and you sat up, pulling an earbud out. “Fuck, Jeremy-” You stood up quickly, scrambling to get your things together, “-my cousins were coming over to do that picture thing since we didn’t get a chance before - I gotta go, alright? I’ll text you in a bit.”

             He wouldn’t remember what he said to you, or the dumb joke you made as you were leaving his room. He would remember how the minute you left, he added “Heart Boner” onto your playlist with a devious little smile as if he were getting away with something. Just a little joke between friends. After all - you had that little moment together, how could he not not? 

                                                            -

             An hour after you left, Michael showed up with a plastic bag filled with Chinese takeout for three - eyes widening when he saw your absence. His smile fell as he looked towards the bag in his hand, frowning slightly as he began to delve into his thoughts. For what felt like minutes, the two boys just sat there in silence as Michael finally untied the bag to pass his friend his portion of their meal, frustration evident in the way he furrowed his brow and refused to look him in the eye.

             “They had a family thing,” Jeremy said. “Didn’t [y/n] text you?”

             “No,” Michael said, “they did not. I said I was coming with food and-”

             “It’s tradition,” Jeremy countered. “Y’know? It’s that little... sign-picture-thing. Some sort of family tradition their parents started when they were little.”

             Michael rolled his eyes at the sappy expression crossing his best friend’s face as he placed what had been your meal on the dresser, before collapsing back onto his bed - tilting his head back to maintain eye contact. “That’s cute and all, but what do I do with their orange chicken?”

             He shrugged, turning back to his computer to close out Spotify. “I dunno - we can go by their house later and see if they want it.”

             He heard his comforter shift and assumed that Michael rolled over onto his stomach. “But I have egg rolls for them,” he whined, voice muffled slightly by what Jeremy could only guess was Michael laying his face in his hands.

             A quick booting down of his computer. He shrugged again, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Just don’t eat them?”

             The moment of silence could have killed a man. “Jeremiah.”

             He spun to face him. “Michael.”

             They maintained eye contact for a moment, before Michael shifted so that he was now sitting up - pulling the plastic bag closer to him. “So did you two fuck yet?”

             A thousand broken words slipped past his lips as Jeremy struggled to say something - a question, a swear, something that didn’t make him look stupid. “Why would you ask that!?” he tried to ignore the way his voice raised an octave.

             Meanwhile, Michael seemed to have no problem with disregarding his panic. “So you haven’t.”

             “Uh. No? We’re just friends?”

             “You sure?” Michael asked, not even giving him the chance to answer as he looked away. “I don’t know, dude, you’ve been pining for a fuckin’ while now. Why don’t you just ask them out?”

             “I don’t like-” he paused, before shaking his head. If Michael knew, then he knew - there really wasn’t any point in denying it any further. “I don’t know, I like Christine still-”

             “You can like more than one person at a time, Jeremiah.”

             “I know, but...” “I don’t even know if they like me still.”

             “Dude. Bro. Homie. Broseidon. Buddy. They wanna fuck.”

             “Michael!” 

             “They’re at least interested in you,” he said with a mere shrug of indifference, “do you just not see how they look at you?”

             “I don’t-” Jeremy started, and then he stopped, the words he wanted to say sticky and catching in his throat like honey. “I don’t think-” He paused, shutting his eyes, “Michael, I don’t know why they’d still be into me. Like... they did the whole...” He tapped at his temple, “thing because of me.” He hesitated. That wasn’t entirely true, was it? “Or... they did it slightly because of me. I just - I don’t think they’d, uh, y’know... want anything to do with me like that.” 

             There was understanding in Michael’s eyes, lit up before he looked away to the carton in his hand. He dug through it with chopsticks, letting out a sigh, “Dude, I get that, but... they like you, dumbass.”

             Jeremy laughed it off. “Yeah, sure.”

             “I mean it!” Michael countered, before dropping the topic, “I’m gonna eat your food if you don’t.”

             “What-” Jeremy popped open his order, “fine, okay - but this conversation isn’t over, Michael.” 

             “Mhm. You’ll accept it later.”

             “That’s not what I meant!”

             “You really suck at hiding your feelings, y’know?”

             “Michael!”

                                                            -

             Two weeks later, and Jeremy wasn’t sure how to feel. 

             There were strings of these little... moments between the two of you. He realized how much time he was spending over at your house after Michael teased him over it, how often the two of you studied together and how flustered he’d get when you were close to him, how many times he found himself grabbing your favorite candy from gas stations just to make you smile. One Sunday night, he was sitting at the end of your bed with a pillow hugged to his chest, spending another night at your house while Michael was off spending time with his family (not that Jeremy wouldn’t have been there otherwise - he stayed over every now and then just because he wanted to. Movie nights were good. Dinner was good. Being around you was good). You sat at your desk, legs crossed awkwardly in your chair in a position that looked uncomfortable to him but you showed no signs of discomfort as you continued to draw. The two of you had been talking, and Jeremy had just sat there fascinated with watching you draw after years of not recognizing your progress.

             A question hit the air, heavy and loaded. “Would you have taken it?” You didn’t move to face him, the soft sound of your tablet pen tapping back against the surface as you scroll out and fumble giving away any nerves. “The... the SQUIP,” you went to clarify.

             But he understood, and he spoke quick: “no.” He shifted slightly, holding the pillow closer to himself, “not after what it did to you.”

             “But if you hadn’t known,” you said, pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts, “if... if it had been you, would you have done it?”

             “I mean... I don’t think-”

             “You can say yes, Jeremy,” you finally looked back at him. “I’m not gonna be mad or anything.”

             His shoulders slumped slightly, a bit relieved of the thought. “Okay, then... yeah. I mean, yeah - who wouldn’t?”

             You turned back to your work. “Yeah. Yeah, right? It sounds good. Like... you have a pill that’ll solve everything and tell you the right moves to make... who wouldn’t want that?”

             That’s when Jeremy realized you’d been doubting yourself. Blaming yourself for saying yes. “I think a lot of people would have taken it.” 

             “Yeah... I think so, too.” You stopped drawing after a moment, turning around fully to face him, “can I confess something?”

             He nodded slowly. “Oh. Uh. Yeah, sure?”

             “I don’t keep the Mountain Dew Red because I’m scared it’ll come back and destroy everything and leave me fucked,” you said in a rush of words, shutting your eyes for a moment. “Sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest but... I think it’s better this way.”

             “Hey, no,” Jeremy reached out, fingers brushing over your shoulder. “Michael and I would find more.” 

             You fumbled with your pen, it falling to the floor as you swore softly under your breath. Jeremy reached for it just as you did, foreheads clashing in cliche fashion as you immediately push back. A moment later, he offered your tablet pen back to you.

             He spoke after you took it. “Hey, uh, c’mere for a minute.”

             So you dropped your pen onto your desk and pulled your chair over to the bed. Uncharacteristically calm and soft, he took one of your hands in a motion less Jeremy and more... you... you weren’t sure. It wasn’t entirely Jeremy, that much was confirmed.

             “There was this stuff that mom used to way when I was a kid,” he said quietly, dragging his thumb over your knuckles. “It was this whole...thing about how the ‘loudest voice has to be yours’ when you’re doubting yourself and shit - I don’t know, it just kinda stuck with me and... I’m glad I’ve gotten to know you, because you’re... different? Like - you keep going, and, uh, you’re a big nerd who laughs at my stupid jokes and... I’m glad you’re you, I guess?” 

             You cracked a small smile as you pulled back from him. Before he can question whether he crossed a line, you answer, “I’m saving this. I can’t focus on art with your sappy ass saying shit like that.” You stood, tucking your chair under your desk as you sat on your bed. “Fuckin’ sweet dork,” you mumbled as you pulled Jeremy into a hug.

             He stiffened up for a moment, only to wrap his arms around you after a moment. He smiled into your shoulder, saying a muffled “Shut up” into it as you giggled.

             You pulled away with a smile. “Why don’t you make me, Jeremy?”

             One of his biggest regrets was not asking to kiss you right then and there.

                                                           -

            Days later, you were in his room for once, sitting on his bed beside him. You were tired, far more than he was, looking at math problems that were blurry to you as you stifled back another yawn. Jeremy had stretched out, awkwardly leaning against his headboard as he tried to stay away until you finally resigned for the night - shutting your notebook and tossing it towards your backpack with a noisy clamor. You leaned against him, mumbling words long forgotten into his shoulder - likely about hating numbers - only to whine when he sat forward a moment later. Soon enough, he returned to be your pillow once more, laughing softly as you curled into his side contently and making some joke about how you only wanted him around for this reason.

            “Nope,” you had hummed, “too bony. Bad pillow.” 

            He snorted a little, reaching up to tuck back a strand of hair out of place. “You seem happy.”

            “I am,” you hummed. “Since it’s you.”

            He reached up, gently tugging you closer to him in order to worm an arm around you. “You’re tired.”

            “Mhm.”

            “Sorry I kept you up.”

            “That’s okay,” you mumbled into his shoulder, shifting slightly to be closer to him. “Math is stupid.”

            “It’s not stupid,” he countered, “you just aren’t good at it.”

            “Thus making it stupid, Jeremiah.”

            Eventually, you went quiet. At first, Jeremy thought you’d fallen asleep, but you sat forward slightly, looking up at him and it was almost like there had been magnetism between you. You had leaned forward, and he gently reached up to guide your face to his, and the two of you kissed for a soft, quiet moment. Soon enough, you had drawn away and cuddled back up to him. He wasn’t sure if he fell asleep first, but he remembered how warm you felt against him and he remembered feeling nothing but warmth in his chest as he eventually dozed off.

            There were a few things that hit Jeremy when he woke up. The pain in his back from falling asleep half-sitting against the headboard of his bed, the weight on him that confused him for a moment for a millisecond before he felt your hot breath tickling his skin, face buried in his neck. Then the memory of the night before - of a clumsy kiss he’d been craving for so long, and the way you kissed back and maybe that was his imagination? He wasn’t sure, but the thought was enough to nearly make him jolt - but you were enough to keep him as still as he could be. He looked at how peaceful you looked, and he felt his heart swell at just how warm you were against him and the memory of your lips haunted him as he felt his skin grow hotter. If remembering kissing you was enough to make him completely flustered, anything more would probably kill him.

            Eventually, you woke up, groggy and sleep-ridden still at first as you sat forward and rubbed at your face. “Jeremy, I hate to break it to you-” You paused, yawning, “-but you aren’t a great pillow.”

            He chuckled at that, sitting forward. “Hey, uh... sorry to, uh, ask, but, uh, do... do you remember anything about last night...?”

            You stared at him, uncertain at first before you thought back on what had happened. You threw your notebook at your bag. And then... It came back to you, striking you hard and fast. “Oh.”

            “I- I’m sorry,” he stammered, “I just - I was tired and I wasn’t thinking and I shouldn’t have...” 

            And he slowly trailed off when he saw the way you were looking at him, voice caught in his throat as your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and then back. He heard you whisper something - “fuck it,” he was pretty sure - before you started going in for another kiss - and he leaned forward to meet you halfway, a hand sliding into your hair as you grow closer to him. The night before had been gentle, sleep-ridden and warm - and now the two of you are awake and clumsy and so wonderfully alive during this messy kiss. His teeth had clashed against yours, your forehead bumped against his, but you correct. A little less force, a little more gentleness, a changing of an angle - the tiny ways to make things better and less awkward.

            In a bold move you definitely didn’t expect, Jeremy’s hand falls to your hips, pulling you closer to him by your belt loops (a cruel reminder that you were asleep in jeans). His kisses grew slightly more frantic, more hungry, more needy - the tiniest little whimper slipping past his lips once you finally pull yourself back, breathing softly as you stared at him. His hand slipped back to your jaw, thumb grazing your jawline slowly and gentle.

            “Jeremy?” you whispered, staring at him, “wait, you-”

            “I... I know we were gonna try to be friends, but... I think I like you.”

            You stared at him, flustered as he tore his gaze away from yours - a pretty rosy hue decorating his skin, blotchy and creeping up his neck to the tips of his ears. 

            “I, uh, I mean, I didn’t... I never planned on, uh... I just - I don’t - I, uh, I think you’re... a big nerd. You... you laugh with me and you, uh, you care about things - and you... you remember things about me - and, uh, other people do but... you’re just... you’re different.” He trailed a thumb across your skin. “You... feel like home. Even, uh, even if this... doesn’t really go anywhere, I - I’m glad that I know you and- I understand if you don’t, uh, don’t actually want this to go anywhere but-”

            And you laughed. At first his stomach dropped, anxiety taking over as he grew nervous over the thought of you rejecting him - but something about the way you laughed made his heart flutter, one hand steadying yourself on his shoulder while the other hid your face.

            “I... I don’t really know how to explain it better, but... can I, uh, can I kiss you again?”

            And you laughed again, reaching up to brush back hair from his face. “Yes, Jeremy. You can kiss me again.”

#mj's writing corner #be more chill x reader #be more chill reader insert #jeremy heere x reader #jeremy heere imagine #bmc imagine #bmc reader insert

[denimwrites-archive]

Be More Chill Masterlist

Reader is gender neutral unless otherwise stated

Bold = Full Fic

Italic = Headcanons (bulleted format)

Plain Text = Drabble (no title with prompts)

Jeremy Heere x Reader

Life of the Movie Party

#38. “If he’s going to treat you like shit I’m going to kick his ass.” (Female!Reader)

Michael Mell x Reader

King of My World

#33. “Sometimes I just want to cuddle, okay? Is that so bad?”

Rich Goranski x Reader

Falling Disgracefully

Popular? Please (Female!Reader)

Chloe Valentine x Reader

#81. “Can I kiss you?” #82. “Bring your pretty little butt over here.”

Updated on 11/13/18

#denimwrites #Be More Chill Masterlist #be more chill x reader #bmc x reader #be more chill reader insert #bmc reader insert #be more chill fanfiction #bmc fanfiction #jeremy heere x reader #michael mell x reader #rich goranski x reader #chloe valentine x reader

[pacman-tattoo]

husband!Jerm and you taking your kids to the park. Just saying.

I GRASP MY HEART

yes blease thank u for my life

fun fact i used to not rly want kids but i think with the right person i’d be happy with being a parent just sayin

anyway since u didnt come here to hear abt me probably

im gonna write short headcanons bc i love that jerm boy

jerm being a dad.... is good shit

but he’s also an anxious dad sometimes bc he doesn’t want anything bad to happen and i promise u he confided in his dad sometimes and his dad was v helpful

but anyway thats sort of irrelevant

it’s probably ur idea to take the kids to the park thats probs not too far from where guys live

ur kids are super excited and u guys pack a picnic

OK jerm would like... get on shit with them and crawl through the playgrounds if they are Small Kiddos just for safety

im 100% thinking abt that one draw w jazza video where mini jazza says his first word where u see jazza w his kid on the playground

honestly uhhh i feel jerm would record some of it or u would

these are short but this is such a cute idea thank u anon for my entire life

#bean answers things #me already sobbing over this #Anonymous #bean writes things #be more chill #bmc #bmc reader insert #be more chill reader insert #bmc x reader #be more chill x reader #be more chill imagine #bmc imagine #jeremy heere x reader #jeremy heere #jeremy heere reader insert

[undercoveravenger]

Cute Faces

Pairing: Jake Dillinger x Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “Do you still do Be more Chill? Cause I would like to request for Jake with the Sweaters prompt. [sweaters- “Don’t show that cute face to just anyone.”]

-----

You were no stranger to the massive parties hosted at Jake Dillinger’s house, but this was definitely the first time that you’d found yourself to be the center of attention at one. You’d just been lounging on one of the large couches that had been pushed up against one wall of the living room having a conversation with Brooke when Jake came and dropped down to sit next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulders.

Brooke hesitated for only a moment, but something in Jake's gaze must have solidified her decision as she quickly muttered something about finding Chloe and abandoned her place beside you, leaving you alone with Jake.

"Some party, huh?" You said eventually, more to break the ever heavier silence than anything else.

Jake shrugged, studying you intensely. "It's the same as the rest," he said dismissively. "What's going on with you and Brooke?"

You blinked, surprised by his question. The two of you talked now and then, but there'd never been more than a casual acquaintanceship between you and Brooke. You'd assumed that was as plain to see from the outside as it was to you. "Nothing? She's nice and we talk sometimes, but I'm not sure how that's your business anyway?"

Jake's usual smile returned, cheeks dimpling with his happiness. He shrugged, tightening his loose hold over your shoulders to draw you a little closer to him. "I just don't want you to show that cute face to just anyone."

You opened your mouth to reply but found yourself stopping short. Cute? Jake Dillinger thought you were cute?

Your confusion must have been clear because Jake let out a boisterous laugh, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your cheek before standing up from the couch. His hand slipped down your arm until he could take your hand in his and tug you gently to your feet. "Dance with me, cutie?" he asked imploringly, wide brown eyes fixated on you.

And really, how were you supposed to say no when you had someone like Jake Dillinger asking you for a dance?

#male!reader x jake dillinger #jake dillinger x male!reader #male reader x jake dillinger #jake dillinger x male reader #reader x jake dillinger #be more chill reader insert #be more chill x reader #be more chill imagines #reader x bmc #bmc imagines #x male!reader #x male reader #male!reader insert #male reader insert #male reader #male!reader

[droppedanarchysymbol]

Jeremy

warnings: smut, oral sex

pairing: jeremy heere x male!reader

note: im not an active member of this fandom anymore but im still in love with this guy, i also apologize for any mistakes im very tired

"Are you sure this is okay?"

You paused, looking up at Jeremy from your kneeling position. Your hands rested on the band of his boxers, threatening to pull them down at any moment.

"What, are you having second thoughts?" you replied. Jeremy couldn't meet your eyes, seemingly finding the floor a lot more interesting. His face was a pretty shade of red and his skin radiated heat.

"N-no! I mean, I want this, but I don't wanna force you into anything - please don't feel pressured to-" You suddenly licked him through the cloth, successfully shutting him up. You felt his legs begin to tremble slightly with want.

"I promise it's not that serious, Jeremy. This doesn't really mean anything, right? I'm just... helping you out." You smiled up at him, missing the disappointment in his eyes. It was no secret that this boy was madly in love with you, but you pretended to be oblivious just to see him stammer and blush whenever he'd try to make an awkward move on you.

It was probably mean, but seeing him light up when you 'unknowingly' made an affectionate remark at him was worth it.

He felt you were unattainable then, but here he had you now, about to blow him. Just the thought made Jeremy squirm.

"...Right."

You slid down his boxers and Jeremy whimpered nervously, afraid you would comment on his size. He was about average, maybe a bit bigger than you, but you knew better than to say anything about it.

Jeremy's heart felt about ready to beat out of his chest. He bit his lip as your hand gripped the base of his dick gently. Fuck, he was losing his mind. He couldn't believe he had a pretty boy like you between his legs pleasuring him. You kissed his tip, and he instinctively bucked his hips up towards your mouth.

"S-sorry!" Jeremy's voice cracked, and you chuckled, making the redness on his face double. Your let your tounge run slowly across his tip, and he whimpered again, wanting so badly for your mouth to take him completely. You had decided it would be fun to tease him.

You held Jeremy's thighs down against the bed and continued to lick him, dragging small, wet stripes against his dick. Jeremy was becoming a bit more vocal, desperately chasing the warmth of your mouth. Your gentle licks and kisses would have probably been enough to get him off, but he wanted more. It took everything in him to not grab your hair and throat-fuck you.

"[name], please." Jeremy's voice was incredibly needy, and you felt something stir in you at his tone. His erection was becoming painful, your mouth being the only thing that could relieve it.

You gave in. You took him in all at once and he let out a moan, resting his fingers in your hair. He would've asked it it was okay to touch you, but the sensations your mouth was giving him made him forget being courteous.

Your tounge gave special attention to his tip as you moved up and down, making Jeremy's fist close around his stained bedsheets. His eyes were shut and he let his hips move in sync with your mouth.

"fuck, that feels really good..." His mind was still struggling to grasp what was happening. Masturbating didn't even come close to how you were making him feel, and the feeling of his climax approaching was magnified.

Jeremy tried his best to burn this feeling into his mind, it being the first of its kind. He couldn't stop himself from letting out embarrassing noises at this point, too focused on how good he felt. It was becoming too much.

Jeremy tried to pull you off of him, afraid you'd be upset with him if he released in your mouth, but you stayed put.

"C-can I? Are you sure?" His voice was shaky, and you felt him twitch. You closed your eyes and continued to pleasure him until you felt his cum hit the back of your throat. What was too much to stay in your mouth spluttered back out, landing in white spots against his bedroom floor. You pulled away from him and let the rest fall along with it.

He did not taste good by any means, especially since his diet consisted of Doritos and soda.

Jeremy let himself fall back onto his bed, panting rather heavily. You laughed, then lifted yourself off of the floor and made for the bathroom to clean up.

You returned to Jeremy sitting up, watching you expectantly.

"What?"

"I like you." Jeremy again averted his eyes to study the floor, a red blush returning to his face. "I-I have for a long time, and I know this meant nothing to you but it did to me... I want to be more than just 'your friend' or 'the guy you blew that one time'-" you cut off his rant with another laugh, sitting down next to him on the bed. He met your gaze hesitantly.

"I like you too, but I should probably go now." You reached for your phone, cringing at the number of missed calls from your mom. You hadn't told her that you weren't going directly home after school.

"Wait, but I didn't... I didn't get to..."

"Don't worry about it, you can return the favor some other time." You ruffled his hair before standing up.

Jeremy watched you leave, a sudden wave of fatigue ravaging his body.

He slept through the rest of the day.

#bmc #be more chill #reader insert #jeremy heere #jeremy heere x reader #bmc x reader #male reader #male reader insert #x male reader

[kj-belletree]

Michael Mell x reader

Pairing: Michael x you

Fandom: Be More Chill

AN: the readers gender isn’t specific. This is a fluff fic with very little angst. Main parts of the angst are just a squiped Jeremy being an ass.

 “I just want to be popular. I just want to be able to chill and not think about killing myself everyday. You guys aren’t good enough for the new me.”

Jeremy’s expression turns dark as he yanks his arm out of Michael’s grasp. “Of course you don’t understand. I wouldn’t expect losers like you to understand what being popular feels like.” He turns towards the door and you have to stop yourself from screaming at him.

You cringe and close your eyes as the words ring through your ears again. Those same stupid words had been bouncing around in your head for hours now. Your boyfriend, Michael Mell, was sleeping next to you, curled comfortably into your side with soft snores escaping his partially opened lips as his eyelids fluttered with each breath. His eyes are puffy and adorn slightly darkened bags and his face holds a slightly red tint, giving away the fact that he’d spent an hour or so crying.

While your head should have been completely emptied of the party that had taken place about three hours ago, you were very preoccupied with the thoughts of your ex-best friend’s words and the sound of your boyfriends echoing sobs. You sighed gently again, and shut your tired eyes tightly, willing yourself to drift into oblivion. You wrap your arms even tighter around your boyfriend, as if you could stop the emotional pain that plagued him.

You unfortunately knew you couldn’t. God, you could kill Jeremy for this. Michael was a sweetheart, he didn’t deserve this. You had thought something similar when you held him close to your chest and tried to calm down his rising panic as he babbled incoherently about how he never should have went to that stupid party. How he should have offed himself instead. How he never should have been born. God have mercy on Jeremy Heere, as the next time you see him you’ll probably kill him.

Michael shifted slightly in your grip but you barely notice as you stew in your thoughts. Chestnut eyes open sleepily and stare at your frowning face. You look silly like that, glaring behind closed eyelids and huffing out an angry sigh every once and awhile, but Michael grins at you anyway. He inches closer to you and pokes your side. He lightly kisses your cheek when you don’t respond, which causes you to startle and suck in a sharp breath. You relax when you meet his eyes and grin exhaustedly.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up baby.” You whisper, running a hand through his hair.

“Well if you’d quit all that obnoxious huffing and puffing,” he whispered back, feigning annoyance. Then after a pause he grins at you again. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“More than Marley?”

He pretends to think for a second then hums, shrugging halfheartedly. “I don’t know. Marley is pretty important to me.”

You push him lightly with a large grin and a giggle. You lean forward slightly when he comes closer to you, giving him a small kiss on the tip of his nose. “How do you feel? You need anything?”

He frowns and you can see the nights events come back to his mind as his eyes begin to water. You pull him closer to your body and bring the blankets up to your shoulders as he shakily tells you he doesn’t need anything. When the sniffling starts you feel your heart break all over again. You run your fingers through his hair and hum a random tune, leaning over to kiss his face repeatedly. After an hour Michael had cried himself to sleep for the second time that night. Finally, you began to drift off as well, not realizing how tired you really were. You fell into a fitful sleep.

When you awoke again the sun was just beginning to rise. A snore sounded off from beside you and you blew out a breath when you recognize it to be the sound that woke you. You shook your head to ward off the remains of sleep and your gaze drifts to Michael. He was sleeping again, his breathing staggering and letting out the loud snores again. He looked so relaxed and soft in the early morning light. You chuckle quietly when you relize he has a fistful of your shirt twisted around his hand, as if he was afraid you would leave him.

You kissed his forehead, smiling when he sighs happily and tugs you closer to him. You mutter affectionate phrases and loving words under your breath and continue leaving small kisses on his face. He scrunches his nose and shifts to bury his face into the crook of your neck. You dig your fingers into his ribs and you hear him snort as he moves to get away from you. You follow after him with a wolfish grin and soon you have him pinned under you as he laughs and squeals.

You release him when tears begin to drip down his cheeks and wipe them away with your fingers. You can feel his heart beat wildly as he shoots up to kiss you, cupping your face with his left hand and wrapping his right around your waist.

“I love you, so much, you know that?”

He smiles softly at you and taps you on the nose. “I know.”

“Maybe one day he’ll quit acting like an asshole,” you say, peppering his face with kisses again, “Until then it’ll just be us losers against the world. And how bad can that be really when I got all I need right here in my arms?”

Michael chuckles lightly at this. He pulls slightly away from you, before moving back and pulling you into another kiss. His lips are soft and his heartbeat and adoration filled eyes are so peaceful in the morning lights. You don’t know what will happen, but for now? It all seems like everything will be okay. And you’ve got Michael. And he’s got you. So what’s the worst that could happen?

#michael mell x reader #michael mell #x reader #be more chill x reader #bmc musical #bmc michael #be more chill #you #michael mell protection squad #reader insert #fandom #fanfic #bmc x reader #michael mell x reader fluff #bmc jeremy #michael x reader #fluff

[awkwardlyflustered]

Best Served Cold

A/N: Alright, I’m really excited to write this fic. Just the idea was really cute, on top of it’s for one of my favorite people. @flusterd-screaming I hope you enjoy this one. I’m trying to remember if I’ve ever written any kind of switch fic and I don’t think I have. So I’m really excited to test my hand at it. Then last thing before I let you get on to reading, the reader is gender neutral, they are *kind of* short (5’ 1”- 5’ 2”), they are around the same age as Michael (16-17), and they are dating Michael. Now, enough of my rambling, please enjoy the fic!

You were sitting on the couch reading peacefully before your boyfriend came crashing in through the front door.

“Honey! I’m home!” He called out, the smile audible in his voice. You just smile fondly at him before returning to your book. He came into the living room and picked you up, sitting himself down and placing you on his lap. “How was your day?” You don’t respond, you just lean back against him, your eyes glued to your book. Michael began pouting, and nuzzled his face into your neck. “Y/nnnnnn,” he whined out, “Pay attention to meeeeee.” You smiled and titled your head to look at him.

“One more chapter, okay?” Michael simply grumbled in response and started scrolling through his phone. You smirked and gave him a quick peck on his cheek before resettling and turning back to your book. 

After a long while Michael began whining towards you until you were finally forced to acknowledge him.

“Can I help you?” you asked with a small smile. Michael pouted towards you, resting his chin on your head.

“Are you done yet?” He asked, his voice not far from a whiny toddler. You shook your head and continued reading. Michael whined at you again, and tapped at your book. You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, still reading. Michael huffed at you and brought his other hand down, gently brushing your side as he did so. You let out a squeak and jerked backwards, instantly letting Michael’s hand go. Though, you did manage to keep hold of your book. Michael raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh yeah...” he mused, a malicious smirk now presiding on his face, “I forgot you were ticklish.” Your eyes immediately widen and you move to get up, but Michael quickly wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into a bear hug. “No no no, you can’t get away from the tickle monster,” Michael says as your face turns bright red.

“Michaelllllll,” you whine out, weakly pushing at his hands.

“Who’s Michael? I’m the tickle monster,” he replies with a smirk, “Plus, I don’t know why you’re whining. It’s not like you want to get away or anything. You love this too much to get away.” Your face immediately lights on fire and your limbs turn to jelly. He looks down at you warmly and teasingly leans down to whisper in your ear. “What’s wrong? Is someone a little flustered?” He accuses in a teasing voice. A smirk once again falls over his face as your blush once again darkens. You slightly pout in his direction as you try, and fail, to cover the dark blush that has taken over your face. He smiles with adoration at you, and gives your cheek a kiss. As soon as he’s done that he gently flips you over so he’s now sitting on your hips and you’re face up, with your hands over your head. You let out a small squeal of surprise when he does this, but quickly regain your composure. 

“M-michael, c-come on I j-just want to read…” you complained, slightly pulling at your arms, though you didn’t really want Michael to stop what he was doing in the slightest. Michael knew that and decided that he was going to be mean to you. He let your arms go, he got off of you and picked up his phone, beginning to look through it once again. Once you got over the shock of what he had done, you began pouting at him. He smirked at his phone, not looking over at you. 

“If you want me to continue you’re going to have to ask.” You immediately went redder than a cherry and began sputtering.

“M-michael, y-you can’t d-do that,” you whined, gently shoving at his arm. 

“I can’t do what exactly? You said you wanted to read, I’m letting you read.” You whined at him again.

“C’mon, you know I don’t want that…” You whined dramatically, and flopped into his lap. He chuckled and pet your hair gently. “I know, but it’s fun to be mean.” You glared at him playfully, causing him to ruffle your hair. You sat up and pouted at him again while he continued to scroll through his phone, a smirk on his face the entire time. After a few minutes of you two sitting like this you gave into him. You mumbled out something inaudible before burying your face into his shoulder. He smiled at you warmly and wrapped you in a hug. “What did you say baby? I couldn’t quite catch that.” You made another indistinguishable noise before managing to stutter a few words out. “C-can you p-please d-do more?” As soon as you finished you went right back into Michael’s shoulder, hiding your face to the best of your ability. 

“Do more of what exactly?” He teased, the smirk wider than ever. You whined loudly into his shoulder lightly punching it. “You know what…” you whined out, though it came out muffled because of his shoulder. He chuckled once again before flipping the two of you so that you were once again pinned with your arms over your head. You squeal in surprise, but can’t keep the excited smile off of your face. Michael matched your expression.

“You know, you’re pretty cute,” he noted, his smile only growing wider as a blush once again attacked your face. You shook your head, trying to bury your face into your arms, though it didn't work. Michael nodded sincerely.

“You’re right. I misspoke. What I mean to say was, you’re absolutely adorable and amazing.” Your face felt like it was going to melt off at this point. You opened your mouth to retort but all that came out were giggles as Michael started pinching your sides. 

“Thahahahat’s nahahahat fahahahahair!” Michael smirked and spidered his fingers up and down your sides.

“And how is this not fair exactly?” He teased, never relenting with the spider tickles. 

“Ihihihihi wahahahahasn’t reheheheheady!” You complained, slightly kicking out from the light touches.

“You should be more careful with what you ask for then…” Michael taunted, switching to squeezing your sides. You blushed a crimson red and tried to hide your face away in your arms. He smiled at you endearingly, enjoying every second of this, and absolutely loving that you were having just as much fun as he was. He carefully made his way across your stomach, keeping his touch light and feathery. You desperately shook your head, and pulled on your arms, giggling up a storm. “M-mihihihihichahahahael!” you squealed out, your smile only growing when his fingers sped up. “Yes baby?” He smirked as a darker shade of red crept its way up your cheeks. You simply shook your head in response. He smiled at you with adoration and leaned down and planted a kiss on your forehead. You smiled excitedly and returned the kiss, lifting your head to peck his cheek. He chuckled and ruffled your hair.

“You’re so adorable, you know that?” You giggled in response and shook your head cheekily. “You sure about that?” he asked with a smirk, teasingly wiggling his fingers in your view. You blushed and shook your head again, though this time a little more hesitantly. He smirked down at you before slightly tightening his grip on your arms, and lightly spidering his fingers under your arms. You quickly broke into loud laughter, and kicked your legs out. You gently tugged on your arms, trying to pull them away from your boyfriend. 

“So let me ask you again, are you adorable?” You once again shook your head at the question, laughing wildly. You tried to deter his fingers away from the sensitive skin, squirming and bouncing about. Michael sighed, though there was still a wide smile on his face which gave way to how he really felt. His fingers stilled, and he clucked his tongue. “Now I gave you a chance to admit it,” Michael began, his tone alone making you blush, “But you chose not to accept it, so you have to be punished for it baby.” As he finished he pushed your shirt up to your ribs, smirking. Your eyes widened slightly, already knowing what he was planning to do. 

“Nononononononomichaelcomeonthat’smean,” you rushed the words out of your mouth quickly, though there was a huge smile on your face. 

“You know for how mean this is I still haven’t heard a stop,” Michael taunted, the malicious smirk only growing. You immediately went scarlet red and began sputtering. After a few seconds you manage to mutter out a small, “shut up,” causing Michael to chuckle. You scrunch your face up, and shift from side to side. “Aw, is the anticipation getting to someone?” You whine at him and hesitantly nod your head. He leaned down and planted a kiss on your forehead. You immediately stop whining and a perky smile appears on your face. Michael chuckled at your reaction and slowly lowered his head towards your stomach, reminding you what he was doing in the first place. You immediately began squirming from side to side as much as you were able to.

“M-m-michael, c-come on p-please,” you begged playfully, the smile on your face as wide as it ever could be. He didn’t say anything in response, he just started blowing raspberries into your tummy. You immediately began howling with laughter and bucking around. One thing you failed to notice until it was too late were his fingers slowly creeping their way to your underarms. When you felt his fingers come into contact with your worst spot you practically shrieked. “MIHIHIHIHIHICHAHAHAHAHAEL!” Michael drew away quickly, chuckling slightly as he saw the insane blush that had taken over your face, ears, and neck. 

“You okay baby?” he asked with a slight smirk. Before you could nod, or try to stutter out a response his hands found their way to rest on your top ribs. Granted, he wasn’t moving them but it still made you giggle. 

“I’m f-fihihihihine.” Michael smiled at your adorable reaction. 

“You sure you’re okay because you’re already giggling and I haven’t done anything yet.” You slightly sputtered at this, and tried to hide your face into your arm.

"Shuhuhut up yohohohou knohohohow whahahat yohohohou're dohohohing."

“Baby, I’m not doing anything,” he sing-songed, still not moving his hands away.

“That’s the problem,” you quietly muttered, the sound muffled by how much you had buried your face away. Michael immediately began cooing over you, unable to help it with how adorable you were being. 

“Awwww, so you’d prefer that I just started doing this?” He finished by gently drilling into the top rib with his thumb and scratching over your underarms with the rest of his fingers. You immediately began cackling and pulling on your arms once again. Michael wasn’t deterred in the slightest, and he just let your arms go, continuing his assault. Your arms immediately shot down, and glued to your sides. “Look what happened, you trapped my hands. Now if you want the tickles to stop you’ll have to raise your arms back up.” You shook your head, the delighted laughter spilling out of your mouth. “Yup! I can’t get my hands out if you don’t raise your arms back up.” You don’t say anything in response, just throw your head back and let the laughter wash over you. “You know, I think you might need a little bit of convincing…” With that, Michael began blowing raspberries once again. You quickly fell back into the shrieking laughter that had happened the first time he did this. You pushed on Michael’s head, desperately trying to get the tickly vibrations away from your stomach, but Michael simply grabbed your arms and moved them to the side, now just blowing raspberries into your stomach. You were still squealing with laughter, but now it had gone down enough that you could speak. 

“MIHIHIHIHICAHAHAHAEL! STAHAHAHAP!” He sat up and began just lightly trailing over your sides now.

“You know what you have to do if you want it to stop, baby…”

“F-fihihihine I’m cuhuhuhute.” You finally give in, weakly trying to squirm away from the tickles. Michael smiled happily and let your arms go, and pulled you into his lap. You immediately buried your face away into his chest, the giggles still slipping away. He hugged you tightly and gently rubbed your back to try to help get the giggles away.

“Is that what you wanted y/n?” You shyly nodded, keeping your burning face buried away into his chest.

“Th-thank you.” You could feel your face burn hotter when Michael began cooing over you once again. “Awwww, of course baby. I’m glad you had fun,” Michael cooed softly, still rubbing your back. “Do you want to watch a movie?” You peeked out from Michael’s chest and nodded excitedly. 

“Can we watch Coraline?” you asked with a small shine in your eyes, the smile wide and innocent as you asked. Michael smiled at you happily and nodded his head, getting up to go put the movie in. 

When Michael came back to his position on the couch you immediately shimmied into his lap and cuddled close to him. He just smiled and held you close to him, his eyes already locked on the screen as the opening music began playing. The two of you simply sat and watched the movie for a while before you looked at Michael slightly pouting. “You okay?” he asked, finally looking away from the screen, his eyes slightly filling with concern as he looked at your pout. You nodded, and pouted again, slipping your hands under Michael’s shirt causing him to let out a small squeak. It took everything in your being to conceal a smirk when he let out the small noise. “My hands are really cold,” you pouted once again. “Can I please warm them up?” He slightly tensed up from the temperature of your hands, but nodded anyways, giving you a suspicious look before turning his attention back to the screen. Once his focus was away from you, you let the subtle smirk take over your features as you lightly squeezed Michael’s sides. He let out another squeak and whipped his head around to face you. “Why’d you do that?” He asked, the smile playing at the corners of his mouth, but he tried to keep it under control. You couldn’t stop the smirk from appearing on your face this time. “Hmm? Do what? I’m just trying to warm my hands up.” Michael playfully glared at you before slowly turning his attention back to the television to continue watching the movie. You waited a couple of minutes before doing it once again, this time slightly scribbling along with the squeeze. 

“Wha- hehehey!” Michael giggled out a weak protest, not doing anything else to stop you. You didn’t say anything in response, you simply began spidering his sides lightly. His giggles immediately became much more bubbly as they began pouring out of his mouth. 

“What can I say? Revenge is a dish best served cold,” you taunt playfully, putting your ice cold hands across as much of his stomach as you could for emphasis. Michael groaned at your lame pun while trying to squirm away from the cold. You simply chuckled at his reaction and began lightly kneading his stomach, throwing him into an entirely new fit of giggles. He gently grabbed onto your hands and tried to pull them away from his stomach. You let him grab your hands away and you leaned into to simply start nibbling and kissing along his neck. His shoulders immediately shot up to try to protect his neck, but he continued holding onto your hands. 

“Nohohohoho! This ihihihisn’t fahahair!” he giggled out happily, still trying to deter you away from his neck. “And how exactly is this not fair?” you countered, taking a small break from attacking his neck. “You tickled me to pieces, it’s only fair if I do it back.” Michael opened his mouth to retort but all that came out were a set of hiccupy giggles as your fingers found they’re way to his ribs. He squirmed from side to side, squealing as he did so. His arms were no longer trying to fend off your fingers, they were simply uselessly flailing about at his sides. Now it was your turn to coo over how adorable he was being. Your heart couldn’t help but flutter when you saw the sight in front of you. He had a wide smile stretched across his face, his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and he was squirming from side to side, trying to escape the tickles but unable to because you were on his lap. You gently slotted your fingers into the spaces in between the bones of his ribs before vibrating your fingers, making a small bzzzzzz noise as you did it. Michael practically jumped three feet in the air and the giggles quickly became laughter. 

“Dohohohohon’t dohohoho thahahaht it tihihihickles!” he squealed out, unable to do anything besides throw his head back and laugh. “Awwww does it tickle? I had no idea.” You smirked and continued vibrating your fingers into his ribs, leaning down to start pressing the tickly kisses into his neck again. He squealed at the sudden change, full belly laughter now leaking out of him. 

After a few minutes of attacking his ribs you decide to make your way under his arms. As soon as you come in contact with his underarms he immediately pressed his arms down to his sides, and kept them glued there. “Aw, Michael, you trapped my hands here, now the only way the tickles can stop is if you raise your arms up for me,” you mimicked playfully, lightly digging into his underarms. He glared at you through the laughter, though it didn’t really have any bite behind it because of the dopey smile on his face. You simply gave a cheeky smile in return, and gently scratched at the sensitive area. “You know, I think I remember you doing a pretty mean thing to me earlier…” Michael scrunched his face up in confusion, looking at you for more of an explanation. Instead you simply pushed his shirt out of the way and began slowly lowering your head towards his stomach. His eyes immediately widened with realization and his squirming intensified tenfold. “Nohohohoho! Ihihihim sahahahaharry juhuhust dohohohon’t!” he pleaded, trying to delay the impossible. You simply shook your head in response and blew the biggest raspberry you could into his stomach. He immediately began howling with laughter, and bucking around, almost throwing you off of his lap. You slowed down to a stop, and took your hands out from under his arms. 

“You alright?” you asked, a playful and adoring smile on your face as you watched him catch his breath. He nodded, taking in as much as he could.

“You know, you’re a lot meaner than I thought you were.” 

“Yeah, I can tell by how red your face is,” you pointed out, smiling even more when the red only deepened. Once you confirmed that Michael was alright to start again you started pinching away at his hips sending him into a stream of airy giggles. You loved the small, care-free smile that was paired along with the light giggles that came from tickling his hips. It was so adorable that you could go the rest of the day just simply pinching along his hips. You were very quickly beginning to run out of ler, however,  and just wanted cuddles. 

You let up on his hips and began moving towards his knees which caused Michael to start squirming once again.

“Waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait,” Michael sped out, trying to convince you to stay away from his knees. 

“Michael, you’re not going to be able to convince me, you attacked my worst spot so I’m going to attack yours.” Michael glared at you once again, though you knew he wasn’t really mad because of the smile playing at the edge of his mouth. You smirked at him before latching onto the pressure point just above his knees. He was immediately sent into hysterics, and very quickly fell into silent laughter. You chuckled at his ticklishness and scratched the tops of his knees and the backs of his knees at the same time almost killing him. At this point, he started getting small tears of mirth beginning to appear in the corners of his eyes, which was your warning sign to back off. You slowed yourself to a stop and readjusted on his lap so that your head was against his shoulder. You gave him a couple of small kisses along his chin as he caught his breath once again. 

“Did I go too far?” you asked, feeling a little bit guilty at what you did. He shook his head, his smile still beaming despite how long after the tickling it had been. 

“Nope not at all. It was absolutely perfect, thank you baby,” he reassured, giving you a kiss which made you melt a small bit. You nodded happily and leaned against his chest, closing your eyes. He began slightly humming and gently tracing over your sides, keeping a steady pace. He made sure that he didn’t make it tickle so much that you wanted to shift away, but still tickle enough that you had a small smile on your face. He wrapped a blanket around the both of you and rested his chin on top of your head, turning towards the television to watch the end of the movie. Within just a couple of minutes the both of you were fast asleep, cuddled closely to each other. Both of you had a small smile on your face and an all around peaceful look on your faces.

#♥️ #Switch!reader x Switch!Michael #BMC #Be More Chill #BMC tickle #Be More Chill tickle #tickle fic #Switch!Reader #Switch!Michael #readerxmichael mell #Micahel mell #reader inserts #mine #I really hope you liked it baby! #Michael Mell #I don't know what the autocorrect did last time

[woodofpath]

sushi and slushie? in the first place????????

#be more chill #michael mel #michael mell x reader #OC #self ship #self insert #bmc

[anotherdarkiboi]

Hey, if you like Squip, can help fill out this multiple choice 5 question poll to help my writing a bit? Thanks!

#squip #bmc squip #be more chill squip #be more chill #bmc #squip/reader #squip x reader #squip/y/n #squip x y/n #squip/you #squip x you #x reader #reader insert #self insert #self insert fanfiction #poll #survey #signal boost #bmc fanfiction #bmc fandom #be more chill fanfiction #be more chill fandom #i may or may not write this

[cleverbroadwayurl]

It Only Takes a Taste (Jeremy Heere x Reader Pt. 22)

Song: It Only Takes a Taste from Waitress 

Word Count: 6316 

Need to Catch Up? The links are weird on this site! Check my masterlist! 

A/N: Oh my god I’m not sure how I did it, but I promised it and here it is! I know that there’s been a lack of content lately, and I’m trying to fix that while making a living for myself and wow it’s getting to be a lot! But I will keep working at it and trying because I know when writing gets posted, others are more inclined to create as well! So here’s part 22!! Credit to: MJ!! 

Taglist: @retrogarden @be-more-heidi-hansen @scarsonthecuffsofyourjeans @bluhimaweirdo @catatonic-kuragin @stargirl-murphy @dee-writes-fics @macbookpro-hard-drive (I thought I’d tag u bc this fic was literally like your idea) 

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of an abusive ex-boyfriend, mentions of intimacy. mentions of fear of intimacy, implied trauma, mentions of trauma, self-depreciation, mentions of the SQUIP, mentions of The Play, mentions of previous fic parts, IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW

Jeremy nods, and stutters out a quick “okay” before you practically vanish before his eyes. Everything and everyone around him was almost static, as if you hadn’t been there at all. But the tingly feeling in Jeremy’s heart and hands said different. It was something different within him. It was the first time he’d left and had some kind of security when thinking about you. Everything almost worked out, was almost perfect, and it was like….god he didn’t even know. You trusted him. You were okay. And in a solid night, he had gotten everything he’d wished so hard for—and he wouldn’t trade that for the entire world.

The Heere household hadn’t been so clean in years. Jeremy’s mom was the last person to really get it sparkling, until this very second, in which Jeremy was counting plates, blankets, amount of food, sodas, waters, amongst other things that had been perfectly laid about for an arrival that had been planned days in advance. Of course, you’d seen the Heere household in its usual somewhat cluttered glory before, but this was different, this was new, this was planned.

But it wasn’t a date…or was it? Jeremy stood for a second and stared at an old painting that had been there as long as he could remember. Was this a date? It was a planned interaction between the two of you, you coming over in what, 20 minutes or so? And yet, there was that same lingering feeling in the air, like you were still off limits like this was just the typical friend thing that he and Michael did. You were just coming over to play games…but then again, that could be counted as a date. He’d heard of other people doing that, but he also heard that there was sometimes no romance to it. Of course, he had Google searched it because his gut was just as unsure as to the logic. He knew that you wanted to be there. You’d texted him first, he brought up the idea of game night, you liked it, said you’d come over in a few days, now minutes, and he was still confused about the entire event. But, instead of pushing romance onto you, Jeremy made a definitive decision that this was a friend date. Yeah, just a friend thing. The last thing Jeremy would ever want to do was make you feel pressured into something you weren’t ready for. He assumed you’d seen that so many times before, and he wanted to be a source of comfort, a source of happiness. He just wanted to make you safe.

The ring of the doorbell catches him off guard, and he runs to answer it, the small window not being completely transparent to display who was really out there. He really hoped it was you and not a religious group asking if he had thought about Christianity that day. With a flick of the lock, and a twist of his wrist, the door was opened, and there you stood, almost basking in the light radiating from the house.

You’d mentioned you would be wearing something comfortable because it wasn’t worth it to play games in jeans—Jeremy agreed, of course, meaning he was in his own sweatpants and t-shirt—but even though you stood in pretty much the same attire, Jeremy couldn’t help but feel underdressed. For the first time ever, you stood on Jeremy’s doorstep, a genuine smile on your face, shoulders tall, and no fear emitted from you. It was the first time Jeremy had seen you healthy in front of him, your cheeks a normal color and your eyes as bright as Jeremy could ever only imagine them. Seeing them in real life felt like a fantasy of some kind. Nervousness creeps its way into your features and Jeremy suddenly realizes he’s been staring at you for like two minutes straight, oh my god, he has to say something otherwise it’ll get more awkward.

But why were you nervous? You should not be the one who’s nervous. You were a good person, even though Jeremy had seen the slander that had happened against you on social media less than recently. But you knew Jeremy, and Jeremy knew you. Meaning all of that stuff that was said Jeremy knew was only conjecture. He knew that it was lies and attempts to get people onto your ex-boyfriend’s side. Some believed him, Jeremy was sure, but your reputation only got stronger with Jeremy. He saw it as you being so successful while the things you left behind put up a fight before dying. It was a triumph. Your nerves became more and more apparent, and Jeremy began to mirror that, his own hands beginning to sweat because oh my god he definitely didn’t say anything like he was supposed to.

“Sorry I’m late, I had to change after work, and they kept me late so uhh…” you began hands fidgeting with the edge of your sweatshirt. Your eyes darted downwards, and Jeremy resented himself for making you revert to old habits.

“Oh! It’s fine, actually, uhh the food was uhh late and it’s totally okay,” Jeremy rushed out.

You giggle at him as he opens the door and lets you inside. He knows you’ve seen his house before, but you still stop to take it all in. It’s different. It’s new for both of you, but good. There’s something in the air as Jeremy stares; your eyes following the structure of his living room before they finally land back on him. He blushes and turns his eyes towards the ground, cheeks and ears getting hot. Jeremy can feel every little droplet of sweat…god it feels like he’s going through middle school again, a smile on your adorable face as he does so. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt before he asks if you just want to head down into the basement. You smile and nod, heading towards the door and down the stairs as Jeremy grabs a pizza and some water. Jeremy can feel the smile on his face grow as he carefully steps down the stairs and into the already-lit basement.

Jeremy sets the pizza down in front of the TV and beanbags, far enough away where both of you have leg room, but not so far that the pizza is unreachable. You sit on one end of the room, while Jeremy sits on the other; beanbags having so much space between them, Michael could probably take a nap in the space. But it feels right. For some reason, space seems to be a requirement before continuing with the night. There’s no pressure to touch, there’s no pressure of accidents, and for some reason, it feels like a decision that needed to be made, and was, mutually.

Eyeing up his own game collection, Jeremy turns to you, realizing that you’d been watching him, almost as he’d been watching you. “What did you want to start with?”

“It’s up to you” comes your response, corners of your mouth turning upwards. Jeremy can feel his heart beating faster at that, along with the fact that you were admiring—no—observing him from a distance. Your eyes glistened in the dimmed lights, almost brighter than any afternoon summer sun. He hadn’t seen that ever, even when he’d first started noticing you. It had always been slightly dimmer. But this? This freedom, this happiness? Was something Jeremy was so glad he had the opportunity to witness in his—friend.

It’s only now that Jeremy realizes that you had just cast the decision of what to do onto him. His mind raced with options, none of them being worthy of your time, especially since you hadn’t shown a preference and you were the guest, so this would be a tough choice. He wanted something fair, something that both of you could get into, even if that meant he would have to sacrifice winning. Maybe winning wasn’t important with you around. Jeremy decided that as long as you two were comfortable and having fun, anything would be fine. That’s probably why you put the decision onto his shoulders. Jeremy could recall you mentioning something about Mario Kart before, and he thought that was a safe choice, even though he wasn’t the best at it, to say the least. Michael would drag that into a melodrama about just how terrible Jeremy was at Mario Kart, but it was something that was current common ground between you and the nervous boy. He moves slowly, almost like the rules that had been distinguished in that basement so many months ago were still significant. He finds the cartridge and puts it into his switch before turning on the system. He takes a glance backward, almost checking to see if everything is okay with you, and he watches as you observe the screen, biting your lip as you do so. It isn’t a soft biting of the lip, it’s almost like you’re nervous, like that’s a way to take the stress out of the situation. Maybe the rules were still significant. You two were alone in the house, basement door closed with heavy and steep stairs leading to an exit. Maybe that was scary. Maybe that was nerve-wracking.

But instead of dwelling on trying to decide what would ease you, it was almost like he knew that actions would soothe that more than anything. He grabs the attachments for the joycons, allowing both of you to play instead of just one player. He held out them in front of you, blue and red controllers both set up for playing. The title music played softly as he wordlessly smiled and gestured to pick whichever one you wanted. And that was a true no preference choice he’d laid out in front of you. Left or right, red or blue, Jeremy didn’t care as long as you were comfortable. The weight of the choice brings your face down, the glisten in your eyes dims, and your hand gently grabs the red one as Jeremy’s other hand grasps the blue one. Your expression doesn’t change as you gingerly hold the joycon and get your hands in place for playing. Your nerves hit Jeremy hard, but he was glad you managed to choose the one controller you wanted.

Jeremy had ended up with the blue one, the left-handed one, but he didn’t mind. You were sitting, observing the controller before he hit start. And finally, things started to ease within the room.

With a few quick button presses, the multiplayer menu is displayed, more choices set in front of both of you. He looks at you again, seeing which one looks like the best option. But your eyes are almost stuck on the cursor on the screen. It’s almost like you’re scared of what is going to be picked. He brushes the thought aside and gives you a choice once again. His own preferences for what he wants to do are out of the door. Even as just friends, Jeremy’s priority is providing a comfortable place to just relax for a second. That’s how he and Michael had managed to become friends without filters. Michael wanted to battle in Mario Kart?? He’d say it, loudly, and usually compromising with later rounds. Jeremy was able to do the same, friendly arguments are healthy. They make sense. You’re allowed to disagree with the people around you. But then again, maybe you weren’t scared of the choice, but rather really wanted to do a particular type. Just to be sure, he somehow verbalized his concerns: “Is there a type you wanted to do? Grand Prix? Just races? Or Battle?”

“Any of them is fine with me,” your smile almost seems forced, like something is keeping you on edge. The very last thing Jeremy wants to do is make you uncomfortable, but this seems like it’s something bigger than him.

“Okay. I know I’m still working through 100cc, so did you just want to help me out with that?” Jeremy asks, hands becoming sweatier as he asks.

“Sure!” You smile at him again, more genuinely this time. He can see the ease drip into your posture, You bat your eyes towards the ground, before gripping your controller.

He selects Grand Prix before looking to you once again as your eyes concentrate on each cup like they were an intensely written sensation novel instead of just simple “Fun English” chosen by game writers. “Is there a cup you like that I haven’t completed?”

“Uhh kinda weird and retro, but Shell cup,” you say, eyeing up the courses, light coming back in as you do so.

“Shell cup it is.”

As the cup begins, your smile gets wide and you ease into the bean bag a little further. Your hands grip the controller as you get ready to race. It doesn’t even take a look for Jeremy to realize that you’ve relaxed, and he does the same. It’s a friendly game, both of you not worried about winning or losing in the present moment, just having some fun as friends. As the course is showcased on the screen, you two share a smile, followed by a chuckle, and the race beginning.

“I love Moo Moo Meadows,” you blurt out, red grazing your cheeks, like it was a fact that was embarrassing.

“Oh no way, me too!”

And that was the truth. He almost always saved Shell Cup for the last because of Moo Moo Meadows. One lap goes by, and then another. It feels too fast, like the Game Theory episode suggests. Racers, according to the episode, go anywhere from 120-200 miles per hour, just like Jeremy’s heart at this moment. He glances at your face as you steal the lead, your concentration just as heartwarmingly adorable as it had been in senior government. But this had more heart, more passion, it felt like something more beautiful and purely stemmed from something good rather than a dumb group activity. He notices your body tilted with the kart as your character on screen turns and drifts, the sparks around the tires turning from orange to blue. Your thumb flicks and the kart straightens out, giving yourself such a lead that Jeremy swears he’s never witnessed, even when playing with Michael.

His eyes turn back to the screen, and he’s doing somewhat well. Except not really, since his character is in 10th and bound to hit a wall at some point. You’re onto lap 3, and Jeremy is a little over halfway through with lap 2, but it doesn’t matter. He’s just happy that you’re having fun and helping him get that cool trophy, even though for his favorite track, he was doing rather terribly. He glances again at your screen, and you’re still in first with an even better lead, and he’s sure that not even a blue shell could make you place second. Jeremy makes a note to not look at your screen anymore, that it’s causing him to lose places every time he does it. He speeds up, and finally finishes 4th, which isn’t too bad for his favorite track and for messing up so badly halfway through.

The cup flies by faster than Moo Moo Meadows ever did, but Jeremy’s heart kept the pace. The scores are predictable, you did mention that you were rather good at Mario Kart. You’re in first while Jeremy’s keeping fifth. But for the first time ever, he doesn’t care. Frustration doesn’t come with fifth, it’s rather warmth and grace. There isn’t taunting like there usually is with Michael, instead, he gets you stating “keeping a place like fifth is so difficult, I’m impressed. First is easy once you get there.”

As soon as the cup finishes and the final scores are displayed, you earning a three-star ranking, a sticker, and a perfect first, Jeremy still keeps his average at fifth. He usually gets fifth or sixth. First or fourth, maybe, on a good day. But instead of saying something sweet or even a “good game”, your face pales, eyes stuck once again on the screen. Your elbows are practically digging into your body, hands gripping the controller so hard that he can practically see your knuckles turning blue. There was something so familiar about this behavior, the way your shoulders shot up in discomfort, the way your razor sharp focus was unforgiving and isolating, and the way you held everything you had.

“Wow,” Jeremy said, breaking the silence, and hopefully the tension that kept itself locked in your body, “you’re really good at Mario Kart.” You just nodded in response, nothing else moving but the slight movement.

Jeremy’s mind raced faster than it had in a long time. Did he do something wrong? What happened? In that short amount of time, his mind tried to recall every little thing he’d said, every movement, every detail that had been placed in front of him, no matter how small. Did he accidentally move closer to you? Did you catch him staring like a creep? He didn’t remember accidentally bumping into you or touching you without consent in any way, shape, or form, besides maybe brushing hands when you’d grabbed the controller from his hand. But that was before the Moo Moo Meadows conversation when you’d seemed to relax so much. And if he had accidentally brushed you or something, he’d immediately apologize for that. He couldn’t remember anything that had happened over the course of the four races. But then again, your perceptions were different than his. His mind might forget something but yours might keep it locked away forever. And leaving it silent was worse than just asking, apologizing, and getting it resolved, rather than keeping it in the open air, where it could really hurt you.

“I’m sorry if I uhh, made you uncomfortable or anything.” Your eyes met his and he swore they pierced his soul. “That wasn’t my intention, if I did.”

“What?” you asked, confusion now flooding into your face. After a breath, you started again: “Jeremy, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. I just uhh, I guess I like forgot something while we were playing. Just remembered it now. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Jeremy paused, unsure of what you were referencing. He was near positive it wasn’t a good memory. Something told him to speak up again, just to say something to fill the silence that surrounded the room. “Is there anything I can—”

“N-No, it’s fine. Do you want to race again, or maybe do something else? It’s up to you,” your eyes lost his and refocused on something else.

It was now that Jeremy realized that you didn’t move. You hadn’t moved. Usually, there was some shifting for comfort while playing a game and relaxing. But it had been several minutes, and there was no movement from you. It was like your body was a statue, rusted to the bean bag, unable to be moved. Something was very wrong. But if you didn’t want to discuss it right now, or frankly, ever, that was okay. And Jeremy accepted that.

He decided that maybe Mario Kart wasn’t the best idea, especially since he was so bad at it. And if him losing every race seem to only make the tension in the room swell, maybe it was good to just let the game go and choose something else; for both of your sakes. Of course, when it came to picking games that were fair for both of you, meaning probably no first-person shooters from middle school or anything, he decided to choose the great equalizer of all party games. Although it was a bad idea to pull it out, Jeremy thought that the best thing to do was switch over to a less popular part of one of the Nintendo franchises: Mario Party.

Of course, Friendship Ruiner 8000, as Michael liked to call it, included motion controls, which Jeremy was again, not good at. But he figured their janky-ness would even out the skill sets and make it more of a fair fight, even though Jeremy was sure he would be too caught up in you to actually play the game to his best ability. But trying was worth it. You were worth it.

“Do you want to maybe play Mario Party 8? It’s the only Mario Party I have, but I figure that the motion controls are so bad, it would be fun to just kinda laugh at,” Jeremy asked, his eyes flicking towards you. He was telling the truth about the motion controls. Yes, sometimes the controllers stop registering movement. It’s just frustrating for games like Skyward Sword but infinitely funny for games like Mario Party 8 or Wii Sports.

At last, your entire body shifted, like your soul was coming back into view, like everything had just been worked out, no strings attached. “Jeremy,” you started, a smile forming on your lips, “you trust me enough to be friends with me at the end of a Mario Party game?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow,” you stopped for a second before a full smile broke out on your face, even though discomfort still seemed to be at the forefront. A red crept into your face as you continued with your thought: “you must really think I’m a good person or something.”

“Well yeah,” Jeremy blushed in return before he rushed to change the game and console.

“Now it’s been a little bit since I’ve played Mario Party 8, so I’m warning you now, 2v2 games are going to be rough with me,” you said, hands pulling your sleeves down a little bit.

“That’s fine,” he reassured, “motion controls are weird anyway.”

You gave a chuckle as you continued sitting, getting more comfortable within the bean bag chair. “True.”

The game quickly started and both of you were met with less than ideal graphics—when did the Wii get such a pixelated screen?—and the odd mascot appeared before the two of you. His weird laugh came through the speakers, and more choices appeared on every screen. But suddenly, choices became easy. The type was of course 4 player, two being you, two being computers, 15 turns—to make it interesting, and any course except the city one that’s somehow a ripped off version of Monopoly. Finally, the character selection screen appeared, and Jeremy waited for you to pick your favorite original Mario character, just so he wouldn’t take something that would be claimed as rightfully yours, for the game, at least. Once you were done selecting, Jeremy picked his favorite franchise character, one that is overlooked by many people, specifically men. Jeremy Heere chose Princess Peach.

“Peach?” you asked, eyeing him.

Jeremy’s skin went aflame, he could feel the familiar tingling from his toes to his ears. His mind raced for justification, a quick answer, a solution, for why he chose Princess Peach. But you surprisingly beat him to it.

“She’s cool, Jeremy, I’m just surprised. Maybe I should’ve picked Mario or something.”

At the small comment and remark of romantic tension that was still lingering in the room, Jeremy turned every little bit redder and he swore that his heart skipped a beat. Was that you…flirting? With him? Jeremy had never seen that before, especially from you, and especially since you’d been strictly off-limits for so long. Maybe it was playful. It was a joke. It was something that he shouldn’t dwell on. You probably weren’t dwelling on it.

Somehow, the next few decisions happen, and Jeremy is able to form coherent enough sentences to vouch for the computers to be on Hard Mode, just to even the playing field between skill levels.

The game starts immediately, both computers pulling ahead and already placing traps on spaces that are supposed to be +3 coins. Both computers get an added 3 coins, for landing on the space, and both you and Jeremy make fun of the randomized way that both AI are playing the game.

The beginning of the game quickly switches to halfway through, and by now you’ve moved closer to Jeremy, bumping each other periodically, so far behind the computers it’s almost laughable. Each minigame is spent in a fit of laughter as both of you are clearly doing what the instructions are telling you to do, but the motion controls aren’t picking it up. It’s sweet, fun, and most importantly, relaxed. The now somewhat-cold-pizza is starting to be eaten, neither of you cares about how it tastes, but rather, what the moment means.

When the game finishes, Jeremy maintains a steady third, with you in second thanks to the bonus stars that are given out after the game is finished. Although both of you felt that you really didn’t do anything special, it was almost like the game took pity on you, and chose to give both of the actual players some bonus stars.

But between the two of you, the places don’t matter. It was fun to just play an interesting game with one another, despite the casual reputation it has among other groups. Each turn out of the 15 was exciting, fun, and laughable, considering how bad you two were doing. Instead of being put against each other, the two of you had an alliance; a method of teambuilding that couldn’t be fabricated by anyone. This was something special, and there was almost a bond formed that game, something that wouldn’t be easily forgotten or erased. And the room now had comfort practically written on the walls. Of course, it was a comfort with each other. The physical, more touchy, comfort wasn’t present in the room. There was still space between you two, and something still felt right about that. Maybe it was Jeremy’s mind consistently telling him to lay off on certain kinds of affection, especially since you two probably weren’t dating, and to keep his space.

The pizza was nearly gone, a final slice just sitting in the box, neither one wanting to touch it. The excitement of the game before had exited, and leaving in its place easy silence and exhaustion. It was late, and while Jeremy definitely wanted you to stay at his house for as long as you could, it was your choice to leave. He might be bummed out for a few seconds, but then would be honestly grateful for the time he got to spend with you, which was worth much more than feeling sorry for himself in his basement like usual. So he decided to leave an ambiguous question out of the equation of the night and instead decided on suggesting to watch a movie. It wouldn’t take much effort, and leaving halfway through would never be a crime, especially since Jeremy was not the person who wanted to take away that freedom. “Hey, do you maybe want to watch a movie? If you have to go, that’s fine too, but I thought I’d ask, like, just in case you didn’t or something.”

“Sure, Jeremy. That sounds nice after Toad totally kicking our asses.”

Jeremy let out a small chuckle before he flipped off the Wii and changed to the PS4. After cycling through the apps on the menu, he found Netflix and booted it up, the classic Netflix noise making its way into the basement. You sat back on the beanbag as the noise rang out, taking a more relaxed posture than you had the entire night. Although you seemed to be a little more at peace, Jeremy’s mind kept crawling back to the same thought: what even was tonight? The Mario and Peach comment made it seem like a date, but you two had never dated or established dating before, and the beginning of the night seemed only friendly. But now it felt so…date like. And of course, it wouldn’t be any date, no, this was the first date. First dates were uncomfortable, awkward, and kind of hard to swallow. They made even the most confident people cringe. They almost take the appearance of an interview for the rest of the relationship. And Jeremy didn’t want that. He’d rather keep the feeling in the room going and choosing something that wouldn’t make either of you uncomfortable. So he had to narrow his search: nothing with a sex scene or domestic violence of any kind. It would be too hard on you, he assumed, and it would crush him to make you upset on your possibly first date.

“First date?” you inquired, eyes scanning him.

Jeremy jumps up and nearly throws the controller, not realizing that his thoughts had been muttered aloud to the person sitting next to him. “Y-Yeah, because I thought well, the Mario and Peach comment, and I—”

“Jeremy,” you chuckle, smile breaking through and remaining. You finally make eye contact with him and Jeremy can feel the fear creeping up into his features. Wrong move, dumbass. “This isn’t our first date—” shit shit SHIT “—It’s like our fourth.”

For a second the world stops turning and Jeremy can feel his brain reeling back. How the heck was this a fourth date? Those other times he’d spent with you weren’t dates, were they? What counted, what didn’t count, what was in between? How did he miss something as big as this??? He didn’t really want to imply romance, even back in the moments, but this still felt like—

“Our first date I think I count as the time I came over here, even though that was a pretty bad circumstance. Our second was making breakfast, which again, bad circumstance, but still kind of a date. Our third was like four days ago, which, dancing together seems pretty romantically inclined, you know?”

Jeremy can only nod. He does know. He just didn’t think you had wanted—and still wanted—to date him. He’s been overthinking every interaction for over a year, each moment, each sleight of hand, everything that had happened before this very second. But for some reason, you explaining it like this, everything felt like it locked into place. The pieces are there, he just needed reassurance to fit them together.

“Therefore, fourth date,” you gesture around you, and Jeremy suddenly realizes that this was a date. The games, the lighting, the way you made jokes, the discomfort that had now morphed into comfortable bliss, it all felt like a date to him, and he had just wanted to respect your space.

“If that’s okay with you, of course,” you mentioned, hands quickly playing with your sleeves again, eyes darting downwards as if you’d done something wrong and made a terrible mistake. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, and I wasn’t going to if you weren’t thinking it but like you just said—”

“No, I agree with you. Completely. I’m just surprised I didn’t like…come up with it sooner.”

A small smile reappears on your face. “You’re valid, Jeremy.”

Instead of a movie, both of you settle on a light TV show, not really getting into the plot, but rather just relaxing in the dim light of the basement. With no one around, it feels like a lost peace that was recently found, like it was a treasure that couldn’t be seen by anyone else. The first episode ends quickly, another one just starting to play as the silence continues. There’s no awkwardness, no commitment, no extra things to be wary about and nothing that needed to be said. For that first episode or so, things felt like they were supposed to feel. Warm, simple, easy.

A thought occurred to Jeremy as the silence continued: he should be closer to you. This is a date, right? Did you want to hold hands or something? Did you want to be closer, and just didn’t know how to request things? Should he just go for it? No. A quick glance at you told him no. Your eyes were on the screen, captured by the show. Your eyes didn’t even match his for a second, meaning you were comfortable where you were and didn’t want, or frankly need, anything extra. Jeremy just being there was enough. His eyes refocused back onto the screen, getting into the show once more before your voice broke the silence between you two, and the quiet murmur of the show.

“Can I talk to you about something?” you ask, hands still fidgeting as you face him.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Because like, we’ve established this like relationship thing, I just…I wasn’t open in my last relationship, which was my fault and a major mistake.”

Jeremy held his breath but didn’t say anything. How could he? He didn’t know about what happened behind closed doors, wasn’t sure about the things that were said to you. In his mind, you didn’t get the chance to express your feelings or be open. You didn’t have the opportunity to have a good relationship, except maybe in the first little bit. But what did he know besides what you told him? How could even attempt to argue with you on something he legitimately knew nothing about? He wasn’t. At last, Jeremy nods, almost asking you to continue your thought.

“I, uhh, god where do I even start with this?” you breathe deeply before continuing, the breath shaky and uneven. “Jeremy, I can’t…do things yet. I can’t—I’m not—Fuck—I am so—” you took another breath—“I can’t be normal. I just…I can’t like…I have a really hard time with intimacy and romance and I just…I can’t even do simple things like hold your hand—not that you’re gross oh my god I’m so sorry that’s how it sounded—but like…my brain and body won’t let me do that for some reason. I don’t know what’s wrong, I’m so sorry, but I just…can’t be normal. I can’t fall asleep around you, I can’t hold your hand, I can’t be a good partner yet. I know you probably want to do that, and I just wanted to bring it up so you aren’t hurt or confused or something because I can’t do it. I just…I have baggage, Jeremy.”

Jeremy can hear tears starting to form, your voice thick. He knows what it means. He knows that you’re hurt, you’ve been hurt, and he knows that what your “not normal” is probably self-blame and trauma from what he could only catch glimpses of before. And while you’re here saying it’s your fault, Jeremy recognizes that it’s not yours, it could never be, but a particular someone’s, who should remain nameless.

“I know we’ve kissed before, but if we could just…hold off on that please for a little while, that would uhh, be great. And it’s a dumb thing to ask, and I’m sorry I have to ask it, and I know it’s a dumb me-thing, and—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jeremy turned towards you and paused the show as you take in a large breath and prepare for what he’s going to say. But he knows that this is something that’s hard to put into words, hard to handle. He knows this feeling, and he knows what should come after it. “It’s okay. We can wait. We can wait on everything for as long as it takes for you to feel comfortable. I understand that it’s hard, I mean, after the play junior year, I kind of had similar boundaries. But I dated someone who gave me patience. I’ve been forever grateful for that, so I want to do the same for you. You deserve that patience and to be comfortable in your own skin.”

“I—” you started, mouth open, eyes frantically blinking, “Thank you. I mean…wow, I really just…wasn’t expecting that at all.”

“You’re welcome.” Jeremy smiles and lets you have some time to take care of yourself, to calm down and really come back to reality a little bit. He offers his hand out if you want to grab it, but if not, he’s not hurt by it. He knows that sometimes you need physical space as well as emotional space, and wouldn’t be offended if you chose not to grab it.

“Can I ask you something weird?” the question drops into the room harder than a weight being dropped.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Can we like…can we just like function on consent for a little bit? Like we ask before just…touching, even if it’s something small, and can we uhh ask for consent for like kissing and stuff? It’s a weird and tiring request, I know, but…”

“Of course we can.”

“Thank you.”

Jeremy shakes his head before continuing the conversation. “You don’t need to thank me, they’re your boundaries and I want to respect them.”

A tear rolls down your cheek, and Jeremy’s eyes catch it, but doesn’t move to wipe it away. That would be cruel after what he’d just been told, and it feels like every night before is flooding back to him. Touching you before required consent. This was the same thing, the same circumstances, the same hurt. It was different, though. This was him having this conversation with you, this was the fear that he’d break them like they’d been thousands of times before. This was to prevent extra breakdowns that didn’t need to happen and to keep you safe, as much as he wanted to do that while you were in his arms. He’d rather not imprison you during the relationship. He’d rather let you roam free as the birds flying above.

“You have no idea what that means to me,” is finally whimpered out.

Neither of you touch one another, and Jeremy’s hand is discarded. You two finish another two episodes before you gather up your stuff and head up the stairs. Upon request, Jeremy doesn’t touch you. He doesn’t try. He doesn’t ask for consent, because something told him to let you have your space tonight: over text, spatially, over social media, and in any other capacity. You thank him for the night, with promises to text him the next morning, before leaving and heading out to the car that Jeremy’s dad knew too well. No kisses, no touching, but confusion about the Mario Kart incident before still unsolved. But that was another boundary he wanted you to have space on.

You had been wronged before, you’d been confused, cheated out of a life that was set for you that was supposed to be happy. Your ex-boyfriend had done wrong. Jeremy wanted to do it right.

#Jeremy Heere x reader #jeremy heere imagine #bmc x reader #bmc imagine #be more chill x reader #be more chill imagine #bmc self insert #be more chill self insert #Jeremy Heere self insert

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader] pt.6

hey gamers, remember when i was a writer?

i anticipate one more part to this fic before i wrap it up completely, and maybe i wont take four months to write this one-

warnings: none, to be honest? theres like. some angsty conversation but its not much or super heavy.

            The next morning, Jeremy Heere woke up to a foggy mind and new weight on his chest and side. He blinked in the light of day peeking through the blinds, drew in a deep breath, and realize this was definitely not his bedroom. At first he froze, looking to his side - where you had curled up close to him, peacefully sleeping. Then he remembered everything, all within an instant, and it was like the storm that had been brewing inside of him suddenly ceased.

           Okay. Okay. This was fine. Jeremy pressed himself back into the bed, shutting his eyes - you were probably just cold, and since he was there, you just - you must have gravitated his way. It made sense. It made complete sense, actually - you were definitely still somewhat sick, so being cold made sense for you. With you curled up close to him, he couldn’t move without the risk of waking you up. So he stayed still, eyes shut as he listened to the soft sound of your breathing, acutely aware of how warm you were beside him. Why was he so... tuned into that? You were asleep. You were alive. Yet it was almost as if that was a foreign concept as he observed how warm you were, flush against his side, and how peaceful you looked when he stole a glance towards you.

           So he laid back and shut his eyes, and tried to fall back asleep for a little longer and not think about the way that his arm had slightly draped over you-

           Luckily, that didn’t last long. He felt you stir awake, before the weight of you on his chest was gone and he was left yearning for that little bit of warmth. He listened to you stifle a yawn. 

           “Shit.” Your voice was quiet. “Hey, uh, Jer?” You reached out, gently shaking him. “C’mon, dude-”

           He feigned waking up as well as he could, and thankfully it seemed to fool you. “Mm?” He hummed as he looked up at you. You were bathed in the pretty sunlight of morning and that caught his attention more than it should.

           “Does your dad know you’re here?” You asked.

           He sat forward slowly, shifting into a more comfortable position. “I’m pretty sure he knows I’m Heere, [y/n]-”

           Immediately, you jabbed him with your elbow. “That was fucking terrible, Jeremy.”

           He smiled a little, the remnants of sleep having taken hold of him. He stifled a yawn, “no, uh, I didn’t - I didn’t really say anything-”

           “Then... you should go home.” You froze for a moment, looking toward your bedroom door, “fuck, my parents don’t know you’re here and, uh,” you looked back at him, “they’re... gonna question why I have a guy in my room.”

           He watched you crawl off of your bed, standing and stretching for a moment before heading towards your door. You held a finger up, slowly cracking your door open to peek out into the hallway, before quickly slipping through and shutting the door behind you. He stifled a yawn as he, too, climbed out of the bed with nothing but a fatigue in his bones and a weird light in his chest - and he paused as he caught sight of a Gameboy color sitting on your desk, the faded grape color having caught his eye in its contrast to your desk. He took a small step over, picking it up and pulling the game cartridge from it - and he smiled at the chubby, determined Pikachu that met him. You’d changed - that much was certain - but... there were little pieces of you still scattered about. While he never knew you to be a flower person (after all - he had caught a glimpse of dried sunflowers sitting on your desk, and a sticky note next to them to figure out where to put them that looked faded from light), or someone who... who used people, you were still you in lovely little ways that made him crack a smile and made him wonder just how many things weren’t you before? How many things exactly had been scripted out for you to follow? His stomach twisted at the thought. 

           Then he stumbled across your sketchbook, and did an act that he felt in his bones would be utter betrayal to you: he opened it. He hadn’t seen your art in so long, and his curiosity would have eaten him up if he hadn’t at least peeked at what you had been up to. Besides... you had to have improved, right? He knew that. He knew art was a huge part of your life and who you are, and he just-

           He recognized your art. Not in the sense of it hasn’t changed, because it had drastically changed from the shitty anime style with too-pointy features and stiff poses (not that he saw anything really wrong with that - you were young, you were practicing, and even if you hadn’t improved you were in love with what you were doing). He’d seen these sketches before, posted online from an artist he followed who had actually posted not too long ago an apology for their absence. The timing was too right, the details too exact. He snapped it shut quickly the moment he heard the doorknob jiggle, turning to face you immediately as he pushed it back onto the desk behind him.

           You stared at him upon opening the door, his panicked expression definitely giving him away. “Uh... you alright?”

           “Yes!” Jeremy had said it too quickly, too suddenly, and you raised a brow before he continued, “I’m, uh, I’m fine - are your parents-”

           “... Gone,” you said, leaving your door open as you walked towards him, “are you sure you’re alright?”

           “I just. I, uh. Please don’t be mad.” Jeremy stepped aside, looking back towards your sketchbook, “I, uh, peeked.”

           “You looked?” you said, more confused than angry - and he was thankful for that. “Okay?”

           “You aren’t mad?”

           “I mean... you didn’t, like, destroy anything, right?” You flipped open the sketchbook, only to pause as you realized which one he had looked into - because you had been keeping two sketchbooks, one for on-the-go that was smaller and fit into your bag and another that you often left at home unless you were going on a long trip or had any other excuse to carry it with you. The one that you used for the pieces you planned, or the ones you sketched with the intent of posting them online.

           “I, uh... why, uh, why didn’t you tell us?”

           “Us?” You raised a brow, shutting the book as you turned away from it. “Oh. Michael. Look, Jeremy, I... considered it, but... I dunno, there’s a reason I use an alias online-”

           He turned shades of red before you, averting his gaze as he understood  -mentally kicking himself for a stupid question. “That’s fine! I just - I’m, uh, surprised. You’ve... you’ve really improved, you know?”

           He had caught a glimpse of your smile as you ran your fingers down the textures cover of your sketchbook. “Drawing every day does that,” you admitted with a casual shrug, before shaking your head to dismiss any further thoughts and you looked back up at him, “c’mon. I’ll walk you home.”

          Jeremy swore he knew too much about you.

          The thought hadn’t occurred to him until one day during lunch, where you were sitting next to Michael and talking about dumb things that made you laugh - and he noticed how there was a small wrinkle in your nose when you laughed or smiled hard enough. But you laughed at the same jokes, and, fuck, was it possible to have missed someone’s laugh? 

          But there was Christine. He liked Christine. He knew he liked Christine. Besides - you seem so close to Rich, how are you two not dating? He was always so touchy with you, an arm around your waist casually and he knew so many facts about you.

          But then again, Jeremy also knew a lot about you. He knew your favorite candy hadn’t changed (Sour Patch Kids, specifically the watermelon ones), and that you loved the peach-mango slushies from Wawa (and the lemon bars, and the sourdough melts with pepperoni). He knew you loved art so much, and he loved watching you draw and the way you furrowed your brow in frustration while paying such close attention to every little action you took whil eerasing and redrawing different parts over and over. He knew you painted your nails black without a care, and he remembered the day you had offered to paint his nails and Michael’s too (and Michael had been the one to take you up on that offer, Jeremy too nervous and flustered to say yes - how would he even explain that to his dad?).

          Then there was the way you always joked alongside him. Michael was used to his lame puns and stupid jokes, usually elbowing him playfully at the first painfully bad pun before meeting the rest with a groan feigned with annoyance - but you? You laughed at him, and you made shitty puns back, and you made him smile. There was something so beautiful in your smile, and god - you were like sunshine to him. Even when you were tormented by the bullshit you’d gone through, you still had the kind of presence who lit up a room and you were still the kind of person whose presence he sort of hungrily drank in because you were so warm and loving and so, so damn nerdy that you felt like home. 

          And one day it was just you and him and Michael. Michael left the room, door left open as he meandered through the Heere household with expertise - and you lit up at something. And you nudged him, pointing over forwards the faded planet stickers still stuck to his bedroom door. And he smiled: you remembered them. He couldn’t believe that you would remember such a little detail like that, but... it made him feel important, in the weirdest way, and maybe he was greedy for chasing that feeling but it was so good that he was willing to accept another religion’s deadly sin if it meant he’d feel important.

          And he finds himself listening to Spotify on lazy afternoons after classes, and he hears you in some songs. So he sort of smiled at that after the first few times it had happened, and made a new playlist with your name as the title - with the intention of finding some image to throw into onto it later. Michael caught him adding music to it one day, and he sorta laughed at it before nudging him.

          “So where’s my playlist, Jer?”

          Jeremy laughed it off.

          And then it clicked in Michael’s mind as he looked at him, taking in the sight of the faint flush to the scrawny boy’s face as he went back to what he had been doing without much of a second thought and that stupid dreamy look in his eye that Michael had seen so many times before. “You like [y/n], don’t you?”

          “What? No!” he immediately said, spinning his chair and pushing away as he looked at Michael. Then the guilt set in quick, regret pooling deep in his stomach with a nasty poison to it all. That’s when he first started to sort-of realize that you were more than a friend in his mind. But he finished your playlist that night anyway (at least - finished enough, even if he would add more tasty jams for you to enjoy at a later date) and he sent it to you. 

          The heart emojis you sent back made him smile.

          The sticky summer heat enveloped you as you took a slow, cautious step onto the front porch. Even at night, you felt as if you’d completely melt if you stayed outside for too long. But you needed this moment to yourself, to breathe and stand outside in the quiet. To pretend that Michael wasn’t snoring inside. Besides - it’d just be a few minutes. You sank down onto the porch swing that was definitely relatively new considering Michael absolutely didn’t have this a few years ago. You’d remember if he did. It swayed underneath your weight, and you shut your eyes for a moment and breathe. And it was just you. 

          Then the door creaked open, and you opened your eyes to see Jeremy standing halfway in the doorway, leaning out to look at you. At first he acted as if he were going to speak - but he stepped out, shutting the door behind him as he approached you.

          He stopped at the edge of the swing, curling his fingers around the chain at his end. He stood there nervously, fiddling with the metal absentmindedly before he finally took in a deep breath to calm his nerves.“Are you okay?” He asked, voice quiet and laced with the dwindling remnants of sleep. 

          You nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.” And you were. Tired, sure, but you were okay and you’d trade anything to just be okay forever.

          Jeremy sat down next to you, absentmindedly rocking the swing back and forth. “Are you sure?”

          “Yeah,” you nodded, “I just forgot how loudly Michael snores.”

          He raised a brow at that. “How did you forget?”

          You shrugged. “It’s been a while-”

          “Yeah,” he said, “but - what’s your secret, [y/n]?” He smiled at you, “I’d do anything to forget that.”

          You couldn’t help but crack a smile in return. But you didn’t respond, instead looking back out.

          So Jeremy spoke again. “Can... Can I ask you something?”

          “You just did,” you said without a second thought, before looking to him, “but yeah, sure.”

          “You, uh, you don’t have to answer or anything, since, I, uh, I know how bad it was but...” He paused for a beat, taking in another breath to calm himself. “What was it like?”

          You understood. “It’s like...” You started, pressing your lips together as you searched for the words. “It’s just a constant voice in the back of your head. Like - y’know how it feels to second guess yourself sometimes?” He nodded. You continued, “it’s - it’s sorta like that, but instead of being hard on yourself for that, you have something else making the decision to give you shit for it every fucking moment.” You wrapped your fingers around your other wrist, acutely aware of the electrical scars that now reside there, “I don’t want to go back to that.”

          “I’m sorry-” He started. Then he went wide-eyed, “wait, fuck, you did this for me, right?”

          “Not entirely,” you shrugged. “I mean... Rich said it’d make me cool. That people would like me, and... then, after I took it, it said it’d help make you like me.” You paused, “ugh, god, that sounds so fucking stupid when I think about it.” 

          “It’s not,” he said, a little too quickly, “I mean - I think it makes sense, since... I dunno, we all want to be liked, I guess?”

          You blurted out your thoughts, “it wanted to... to get to you, too.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment. “Sorry, it - it just said you were, uh, the perfect candidate.” You forced a bitter laugh past your lips, “I wonder what the criteria for that is.” But you turned gentle, voice soft. “I, uh, I said no. You didn’t deserve... that. You deserve to be yourself, Jeremy.”

          For the longest time, he was quiet. But he finally looked over at you for a moment, “what if it had been me?”

          “What?”

          “What if... y’know... it had been me instead of you?”

          “I... I don’t know.” You pressed your lips together into a thin, tight line as you mulled the thought over. “I don’t think we’d be sitting here right now.” Nervously, you scratched at the back of your neck. “And I think you’d be a huge dick, to be honest.”

          “What!?” He turned back to you, “why?”

          Your laugh was light, airy, forced. “Just a feeling.” A smile ghosted over your lips as you looked away. “You still like Christine, right?”

          That caught him off guard. “Uh - yeah, I mean - I do, but - it’s, uh, it’s complicated.” He frowned.

          “Oh,” you smiled, genuine this time, and turned back to him. “Another crush? That’s... actually really valid.”

         “What about you?” He asked, and he ignored the hope that rose and quaked in fear inside of his chest.

         You merely shrugged. “I don’t know. I... haven’t really thought about how I feel in a while. But... I think I like someone.” You paused to laugh the thought off, “god, I feel like a kid saying it like that, but...”

         And then you paused again. 

         “Oh my god.” You looked at Jeremy, “we’re seniors.”

         In time, he wouldn’t remember the conversation exactly. He remembered the vague outline - college, majors, high school, and for a moment sex, before the air felt awkward (in... a weird way that felt good and weird at the same time, and he couldn’t exactly define why). You stood up, stretching as you turned to head back inside, and you said something to him that he didn’t remember because, if he was honest, he was lost in the way you looked in the light of the moon and stars and it made him feel like a big fucking sap. He followed you inside after a moment, laughing off the spaced-out behavior, and descended into the depth of Michael’s basement with a hope that he would get some good sleep - and if he couldn’t, he hoped at least you would. One of you should at least make it through the night with this sleeping dragon nearby.

#mj's writing corner #be more chill reader insert #be more chill x reader #bmc reader insert #bmc imagine #be more chill imagine #jeremy heere x reader #jeremy heere imagine #i forgot my tags for this blog and literally had to go back to find them-

[denimwrites-archive]

38 and Jeremy Heere?? Thanks!!

Be More Chill - Jeremy Heere x Female!Reader#38. “If he’s going to treat you like shit I’m going to kick his ass.”

Time seemed to slow down as you saw your boyfriend flirting with Chloe at Jake’s most recent party. You weren’t surprised but that didn’t stop the sting you felt as you saw her grabbing his arm and laughing. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you decided to just go. Parties weren’t really where you wanted to spend your Friday night anyway.

Walking out the front door, you headed down the sidewalk with no one stopping you. You walked through a few neighborhoods before you finally made it to your destination, Jeremy’s house. Knocking on Jeremy’s basement window, he knew that you would be waiting at the front door.

When Michael opened the door, you gave him a sad smile before walking past him and taking the basement steps two at a time. He followed behind you and you flopped onto the floor next to their two beanbags. No one said anything, and the two tentatively returned to the game they were previously playing.

You watched and felt yourself relax. By the time they finally beat the next big boss, you could feel your eyes start to drift close.

The next thing you know it’s morning and your phone is ringing. Groggily answering it, you groan out a, “Hello?” only to be met with your angry boyfriend on the other side.

“Where the hell are you? We were supposed to get breakfast.”

“You were supposed to take me home last night, but that didn’t happen either, did it?” you fired back.

“Well if you stuck around, I would have! But you disappeared.”

“I disappeared because you didn’t seem to remember me when Chloe was around, because you know I’m your girlfriend, not her.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault that someone decided to pay attention to me? Maybe if you actually spent time with me instead of disregarding me for your loser friends we wouldn’t have this problem.”

He was really starting to piss you off, but tried not to yell and disturb Jeremy who was asleep on the couch. “Look,” you said with gritted teeth, “you know that I don’t like parties, but then you decide to go to all of them and then you blame me for not enjoying them? That’s your own fault! So excuse me for not spending time with you in a mass of people who are all vying for your attention. I suggested going to the movies, like any other normal couple, but no–”

But he had hung up. Trying to suppress a groan, you clenched your phone in your hand. Releasing a sigh, you wished you could just go back to sleep, but you knew you were too worked up.

Before you could try to sneak upstairs for some breakfast though, Jeremy piped up. “He’s a dick.”

Turning to him, you see that he’s wide awake. You release another sigh as you reply, “Yeah, I know.”

“If he’s going to treat you like shit I’m going to kick his ass. I don’t care how big he is, you don’t deserve that crap and I won’t put up with it.” You give him a sad smile.

“Thanks, Jer, but it’s not up to you. I’m going to end it on Monday at school. I’m just too sick of it. Thanks for having my back though,” you said with a chuckle.

“You know I’m always on your side,” he responded with a smile.

“And I don’t deserve you. But thanks.” You shared a sincere smile before he got up and lead the way upstairs for breakfast. You ignored the texts coming into your phone and just enjoyed the toaster waffles Jeremy made. You felt safe with Jerm, and you wouldn’t trade mornings with him for anything, especially a shitty soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend.

#request #Drabble #drabble saturday event #jeremy heere x reader #jeremy heere fanfiction #jeremy heere #be more chill x reader #be more chill fanfiction #be more chill reader insert #bmc x reader #bmc fanfiction #bmc reader insert #musical x reader #musical fanfiction #musical reader insert #my writing

[pacman-tattoo]

happy new year [rich g. x reader]

happy 2017 is almost dead, im writing this in a rush but here uhhh take this fic i wrote rly quickly

warnings: it short, thats all lmao

          Parties weren’t your thing - never had been, never will be. You had snagged a book from a bookshelf and found a quiet place to sit outside, and dove into some cheesy romance novel. Sure - it was New Year’s Eve and Rich was off probably drinking a bit and having the time of his life - but he knew you, and you were quiet. Besides - this was supposed to just be a little get together in the beginning, and ended up growing to full blown party, and Brooke had already apologized and offered to do whatever she could to make you more comfortable.

          So there you sat, the light of the back porch accompanying you as you read and tried to ignore the thumping music at your back. Your focus drifted. You shut your eyes, your phone at your hip.

          The door swung open, thudding and shuddering as it bounces back from the wall. You barely had a chance to look up before lips caught yours, Rich’s fingers in your hair as he smiled. He pulled away, chuckling softly.

          “Happy new year, babe.”

#bean writes things #be more chill #bmc #bmc reader insert #be more chill reader insert #bmc x reader #be more chill x reader #be more chill imagine #bmc imagine #rich goranski #rich goranski x reader

[undercoveravenger]

The Cure For A Bad Day

Pairing: Michael Mell x Roommate!Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Original Request: “Can I ask for hug and snuggle with Michael from BMC? Like, male reader is his roommate for college and he likes him and one day, Michael is just playing a game in their room and reader wanted to hug him so badly. They start dating afterwards. I don't know, I feel like hugging Michael today XD”

__________________________________________________________

It had been an incredibly long day. You’d been swamped with exams, most of which you were sure you failed, you’d been late to your first class because your alarm never went off and then got chewed out by the professor, and then when you finally made it back to your dorm, you found out that you must’ve left your keys at home that morning. You let out a defeated sigh, letting your head fall forward and slam against the door.

You could hear a muffled curse and grinned weakly at the knowledge that at least your roommate was there to let you in.

Michael looked puzzled when he opened the door, clearly confused by the sight of you standing there with your head against the door. “You good, dude?”

“Not really,” you muttered, making your way into your dorm and tossing your backpack to the side. You were ready to go straight to bed and forget this day had happened in the first place.

Michael grabbed you by your shoulders, guiding you from behind to sit on the beanbag that he’d put in front of the tv to play video games. “You wait right there!” he called over his shoulder as he ran out of the room, presumably on his way to the shared kitchen on the floor.

He was back within a few moments, balancing a huge bowl of snacks in one arm and carrying a pair of travel coffee cups with lids with the other. He passed you one of the cups and set the bowl down next to you before moving to grab the biggest, fluffiest blanket off of his bed. He came back, slinging the blanket over your shoulders and coming to stand in front of you, putting his hands on his hips as he stared down at you. “Spread ‘em,” he demanded.

You cocked your head, clearly confused, “Excuse me?”

“Your legs,” Michael said, rolling his eyes like he’d expected that to be obvious. “Spread them.”

“You gonna tell me what you’re up to?” You asked, slowly doing as he said, shifting your legs further apart and making room on the beanbag.

Michael grinned down at you, handing you one of the controllers to his gaming system before settling himself between your legs with the other. He got the game set up before setting aside the remote and leaning back against your chest.

You were understandably shocked by his actions. The two of you had always been close, but Michael had never really been very touchy with you before and you’d been crushing on him for ages, so you hadn’t wanted to make him uncomfortable by pushing too far. “Michael, what’re you trying to do?”

Michael shrugged, twisting around so he could see you over his shoulder, “You had a bad day; I figured maybe some games and cuddles might make it better.”

“I-” you cut yourself off, a small smile creeping over your face. “Thank you, Michael.”

Michael grinned at you, dark chocolate eyes bright behind his glasses, “Anything for you, dude.”

“Anything, huh?” you mused quietly, holding his gaze.

The brunet’s mouth opened and then closed again, apparently thinking better of whatever he’d been going to say. “Yeah,” he eventually forced out.

Your gaze faltered for an instant, eyes dipping to lock onto his lips before flicking back up to meet his. “Can I-” You hesitated, rethinking your words. “Michael, can I try something? If you don’t like it, then we can forget it ever happened and-”

Michael had apparently had enough of your talking, since he interrupted you by leaning up and pressing his lips to yours. He grinned into the kiss when he felt you begin to reciprocate, snaking a hand up to tangle his fingers in your hair and drag you closer. He let out a quiet gasp as he felt your hands slip up under the edge of his favorite red hoodie and use your grip on his waist to pull him up onto your lap.

You pulled away after a few moments, a wide grin on your face. “Well,” you started, leaning in to press another quick kiss to his lips, “If the promise of games and cuddles weren’t enough to turn my day around, that definitely was.”

The brunet flushed, tucking his head into the crook of your neck so you wouldn’t see him blushing. “So now what?” he mumbled.

“Um… Maybe we try being, y’know, more than friends?” You knew that this was kind of a risky thing to ask; that asking made whatever had just happened real between the two of you. Before it could’ve been dismissed as a spur of the moment thing, but now that you’d acknowledged it, there was no way around it.

Michael pulled away, face unreadable as he studied you. “You mean it? Like, boyfriends?”

You nodded slowly, chest tightening the longer he went without responding to you. “If you wanted to be?”

Michael leaned forward again, kissing you breathless. “Yeah,” he said when he pulled back, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night playing video games, the way you had a million times before, but now you celebrated the victories with sweet kisses and the losses with passionate ones to distract from the frustration. It’s true what they say, love really is the cure for any bad day.

#male!reader x michael mell #male reader x michael mell #reader x michael mell #male!reader x be more chill #male reader x be more chill #male reader x bmc #male!reader x bmc #reader x bmc #male reader insert #male!reader insert #male!reader x #male reader x #male!reader #male reader #be more chill x reader

[lesbian-stu-macher]

what am i doin’ hangin’ ‘round? [bmc, j.d. x reader fluff]

A/N: HEY YALL HERE’S MY BELATED BIRTHDAY GIFT TO MY FAV PERSON EVER AND LOCAL JAKE DILLINGER STAN @stargirl-murphy !!!!!!!!!! this is uhhhh my first jake fic ever and my first bmc fic and uhh wow first fic of 2019 wooooooooo lets get this show rollin (the title is based off a song by the monkees ok it’s a bop and also it fits so shhhhhhhh) Triggers: not a lot ???? this is pure fluff uhhhhhhh,, cursing but defs not as much as in my like connor fics obv, jake being jake,,, yeah he’s like shirtless for a good 30%(?) of this so enjoy that ig,,,, probably minor sex jokes but yeah this is like all the cheesy ass tropes (shoutout to the Official AU Queen @cleverbroadwayurl)

Word Count: 2,209 (jESUS CHRIST WHO IS  T H I S  B I T C H)

You mumbled a small thank you to the desk clerk, glancing over the minute details of the card for your room. B19, it said in bold letters. Smaller, lesser important details covered the card, along with the barcode and the name of the hotel in a gold, cursive font. The McDoon Hotel; Take yourself away.

You began to walk, per the directions of the concierge, your carry-on rolling behind you as you glossed over the numbers to look for your room. 15, 16, 17, 18… 19. It took a second of fumbling with the keycard to put it in the right way before it gave off the unlocked sound. You opened the door and walked in, only to be met with some complete strangers in your room. He was tall; there wasn't much else you could tell from the back. He wore a muted green jacket with some dark jeans- pretty basic stuff, but his stiff muscles filled the clothes well.

Your immediate reaction was a small scream, followed by a completely subtle “Jesus!” as you jerked back by impulse. He turned around slightly, only to give a similar, yet toned down remark of only, “whoa.”

Once you saw his face, your eyes somehow managed to widen a little more. That one scene in Inside Out? When all the emotions are freaking out over a girl? That was exactly what was going on as you saw his face. Yeah, he was in your room, but with that surprised look on his face, he looked… was the right word ‘hot’ or ‘cute’?

Did it matter? Why was he here?

“What the hell are you doing here?” It only took a second to notice that he was unpacking and the room was barely touched, which likely meant he sure as hell wasn't just leaving.

“Uh, unpacking?” He said as he slowly set his toothbrush on his folded clothes. “What the hell are you- doing here?”

“I was about to unpack. In my room. But then I walk in and I see 6 foot of you in here.” You didn't want to get on his bad side, but he was clearly in the wrong. “You need to leave.”

“You sure?” He asked, picking his keycard off the bed. “B19?” He took a couple steps, showing you the card, and even offering it for you to get a closer look. You showed him yours, revealing how they were, in fact, both for the room.

“How did they manage to double book a room?”

He merely shrugged, a hand sneaking to his brown hair and pushing it back- he had a very fuckboy-esque appearance, but slightly more fashionable, his muscles definitely indicated someone who went to the gym, leg day included. Once he faced you, you realized his shirt said “GENDER IS OVER! (IF YOU WANT IT)” in black letters over white, a la John Lennon. “Don't know. Couldn't you just get a different room?” He paused for a second, before figuring he should add to that. “I don't wanna sound rude, but uh, I'm here for my best friend's wedding and uh, everyone's already got a room and stuff, so I gotta be in the… block… thing...” he explained, almost sheepishly. Not what you'd expect to hear.

“Lohst-Murphy?” You asked as he gave a small nod, almost surprised, as if it seemed coincidental. “I'm here for the same one. Don't you have a friend or someone you could share with?”

“Well, my best friend is one of the brides, Rich is with Michael, a maid of honor is with her girlfriend, Jeremy's with his date, Jenna is with her boyfriend, and Chloe is with her boyfriend,” He explained it like a list, exhaling at the end.

“I mean, I would, but my cousin is the other bride and Connor, Evan, Jared, and Alana, also have girlfriends they are spending the night with.”

“Huh,” he remarked. “Looks like we've both been third wheeled.”

“More like thirteenth wheeled.” You said with a small laugh.

An awkward bit of silence passed before the other extended his hand. “I'm Jake by the way,” he said with a small clearing of his throat. “Dillinger.”

You accepted his hand, before giving your name in addition.

“So,” he mumbled, glancing at the carpet.

“So,” you responded, looking up at him. Holy shit, he was hot. Or cute. Same difference.

“Roomies?”

“Roomies.” You smiled, wheeling your bag into the room.

“Here, lemme help you with-”

“Thanks, but it's just one bag. I got it.” It wasn't that you didn't like Jake; he seemed nice. But seeming nice and being nice were two different things. As of now, he was still a stranger. Maybe an acquaintance if you squinted. But it's not like you were completely sure that he wouldn't murder you or something.

You slowly moved to the other side of the bed, where you began to unpack what you needed to for the night.

But of course, the silence was killing the both of you.

“So,” you said, glancing at Jake from across the queen size bed. “How long have you known Brooke?”

“Uh, middle school maybe?” He said, unfolding another graphic tee- grey with the words “Athletes Against Alzheimer's” on it in navy. God, you hoped he wasn't some creep, because he seemed almost too good to be true. “But it wasn't until this whole thing happened and she realized her best friend, almost my ex at the time, was just not good for her, then we kind of just… befriended each other. She's like, the sweetest girl with the biggest heart. I mean, we're both pan and all, but we know we'd never date each other or anything. And she met your cousin, who I'm guessing is good enough for her.” He finished his small spill as he slipped his jacket off, merely tossing it in his duffel bag on top of the neatly organized things still inside.

“Oh, definitely. Zoe's great. She's so independent, I was surprised she'd ever get married. She's a strong person, but still so sweet and-“ You paused, noticing him casually pulling his shirt off revealing a bare, yet well defined chest. “What the hell are you doing?” You nearly screeched, looking away and shielding your eyes as if by impulse.

“Uh, changing? What, do you think, I'm gonna sleep in jeans and a tank top?”

“I didn't think you'd start changing out of nowhere!” Really, there was nothing that you needed to look away for. It wasn't like you hadn't seen men's underwear ads before. But to see it in front of you was still… something new.

“I could change in the bathro-”

“Yes! Do that! Please!” You insisted, still keeping your eyes averted. Your temptation to say ‘take your six pack with you’ was strong, but you managed to hold it in as he grabbed… whatever he needed.

Once you heard the door shut, you finished laying out the things you needed. Your change of pajamas, toothbrush, all that jazz. As you set out each thing, you realized something that lingered in the back of your head that only just now came to light.

There was only one bed.

You would be sharing a bed with a stranger.

Suddenly, Jake stuck his head out of the bathroom. “Do you need anything right now? I'm gonna take a shower if you don't mind,”

“Go ahead. I'll probably brush my teeth later though.”

“Great.”

The second you heard the shower turn on, you immediately went to change your clothes, getting ready for bed, despite knowing very well that you'd spend a long time before you actually slept. The fact that you still had to share a bed… would be awkward. Jake seemed so comfortable, it was pretty obvious he was some level of high school fuckboy. But at least he was a little more… sympathetic. Checking on things. Asking if you needed the bathroom before him.

Jesus, why couldn't you get over such a... sexy stranger?

You needed to get your mind off it. And brush your teeth.

You grabbed your toothbrush and toothpaste and slipped into the bathroom; surely he wouldn't be done already. But by the time you were spitting out toothpaste, Jake had slipped his head out from behind the curtain. “What are you-” before he could finish his thought, he must've leaned too much as he peaked out of the curtain, slipping, and yanking the white curtain down with his tall body as a curse slipped out of his mouth.

You jumped back, watching him frantically cover up the hips and below, his face looking up at you with and startled look, his dark hair all wet and matted. Jesus, how was he still hot?

In full rom-com fashion, he stood up, keeping the shower curtain covering his waist as he awkwardly reached for his towel. He finally managed to wrap the white cotton around himself, dropping the curtain and finally saying something. “What the hell were you doing?”

“Brushing my teeth? I didn’t think you’d be done so quick!”

“Well,” he sighed, trying to fix the shower curtain with careful attention to his towel. “Guess it won’t be so weird when we sleep together now I guess, right?”

“I-”

“Yeah, I phrased that weird.” He said with an awkward chuckle. “Unless you want me to sleep on the floor or something! I can do that, I-”

“No, no, it’s fine!” You insisted, trying to keep things from getting any more awkward. “I mean, you deserve the bed as much as I do- it’s a queen, right? There’ll be some… space.” Hopefully you both were able to respect each other’s boundaries, but that apparently was not a thing between you guys. “Anyways. I guess I’ll leave you be, I’ll be on the side of the bed with all my stuff I guess. What time are you getting up?”

He shrugged. “Whatever works is fine with me.”

“Seven-ish then?”

“Seven-ish.” he repeated with a small smile.

Jake walked out of the bathroom a couple minutes later, seeing you hang up your dress for tomorrow so it would be ready. He gave a small smile as he looked at the color. “Purple. Nice.”

You were almost startled as you turned around and saw him there, simply in boxers and his aforementioned t-shirt, his hair fixed to some extent from its former messy state, but it looked cute either way. “It’s actually orchid, you uncultured swine,” you scoffed gently as you moved closer to the bed, still unsure of what exactly was about to happen.

“Well, whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll look great in it tomorrow.” Was he flirting?

“Thanks,” you smiled. “I’m sure you will too- unless your wardrobe for tomorrow is another tank top, jeans, and jacket ensemble.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t ruin Brooke’s special day like that. I’m actually a, uh, pretty good dresser.”

“We’ll see in the morning.”

The conversation was nice and fun, it was like you guys were actual friends. But there was still five feet that stood between you two, and you weren’t exactly sure what would be next. Jake glanced down at the bed as you did, looking at the thick, crimson sheets before back up at you. “Well, uh, ladies first.” he said, his arm extending in a welcoming manner over the bed.

Slowly, you slipped into the bed, trying to focus more on the comfort than the awkward. Jake, however, didn't get in bed, but got on the floor instead, doing, of course, push-ups. “I'll be there in a sec,“ he mumbled as he began counting to himself semi-audibly.

All you could do was laugh slightly as you saw some of what he was doing. Was he trying to be hot right now? You two at least managed to hold a conversation while this happened, learning a couple new things about each other.

You learned Jake had two sisters, both younger. You learned about the really weird junior year he went through, featuring his two broken legs. The two of you exchanged a lot of stories- you guys even had more interests than you’d expect. By the time you two fell asleep, it didn’t even seem awkward that you two slept in the same bed.

Stripes of sun shot through the crevices of the blinds and curtains over the windows, giving the basic effect of the morning inside the hotel room. You woke up to the sound of your alarm, noticing the two of you had apparently moved around a lot in your sleep. So much so that you wound up asleep on Jake’s chest, an arm loosely slung around you. You almost panicked by impulse- but you managed to study his features a little. Half his face was buried in the amber hue of the pillow, his hair disheveled once again and pointing every which way. His torso gently rose and fell with each breath as he continued to sleep, despite the sun indicating it was time to get up.

You smiled slightly, pressing snooze on the alarm as you tucked your head under his chin, inching slightly closer to him as you closed your eyes again. Surely no one would mind you guys getting sleep for another five minutes… ish.

#be more chill #bmc #bmc x reader #bmc self insert #jake dillinger x reader #bmc fluff #jake dillinger fluff #bmc fic #jake dillinger fic #brebbo if ur reading this ily #hap birt

[macaroni-0verlord]

Roller Coaster

Pairing: George Salazar x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Words: 423

Time spent writing: 15 minutes

-

You smiled at George as the you two inched closer to the front of the line, where you would be strapped into a uncomfortable seat that you’d be stuck in for approximately three minutes going up and down hills very very fast. For some reason, this is something that a vast majority of humans find entertaining, including you and George Salazar. “This is my favorite ride!” George exclaimed, motioning to ‘The Devil’, a ride at the local amusement park. His smile was so wide and bright, it was like a beam of light to your soul. You nodded, grinning back at your excited boyfriend. You loved to see him happy, and roller coasters were something that had that effect on him. Eventually the two of you were seated in the third pair of seats, George wanted to sit in the front, but this was the closest you guys could get. He adjusted his glasses before lowering the bar in front of you, locking the two of you in place. “You ready?” He questioned, looking excitedly at you. “Yeah-“ You didn’t have time to answer before the roller coaster car abruptly zoomed forward. You and George screamed as the wind zipped through your hair, making it fly in different directions. You could hear the people behind you laughing, which you smiled at, glad that others were enjoying the ride as well. George gripped the bar in front of him, his knuckles turning white. You did the same, not squeezing as tightly as your boyfriend, but still holding on. The screams and yells of you and others subsided as the rollercoaster slowed, tediously climbing up the first hill. You looked over to George who was holding onto the bar with one hand and wiping his eyes from under his glasses with the other. He smiled at you, and you smiled back, happy that the two of you could spend the day together. Your thoughts quickly faded as the coaster plummeted down the huge mountain of a hill, your eyes widening as you felt your insides move around. You screamed with the other passengers, George throwing his hands into the air. The ride continued, going up and down hills multiple times. Soon enough, it was over, the employee coming around the car and lifting the bars holding the passengers in. You climbed out first, then helping George. “Well, that was awesome!” He exclaimed, laughing and running a hand through his hair. You nodded excitedly, grinning at your boyfriend before kissing his cheek. “Let’s do it again!”

-

@nyamafriend @lunalovegoodhasbeenjawnlocked

#george salazar #george salazar x reader #self insert #fanfic #fanfiction #bmc #be more chill #leo writes stuff #leo’s writing