crush oneshots!!

ex ⚠️/🌸

y/n: your name

l/n: your last name

c/n: crush's name

c/l/n: crush's last name

h/c: your hair color

e/c: your eye color

s/c: your skin color

c/h/c: crush's hair color

c/e/c: crush's eye color

c/s/c: crush's skin color

b/f/n: best friend's name

b/f/l/n: best friend's last name

In this imagine, you are dating a guy named Fred, and c/n is one of your closest friends that you have always sort of liked. Enjoy!

This imagine also contains some slight mistreatment towards y/n at the hands of your boyfriend. Nothing graphic, but if you're sensitive to such things, please be careful!

"I wasn't flirting!" you exclaim. "All I did was say 'thank you'."

Your boyfriend, Fred, snorts. "You said 'thank you' to a waiter. Do you know what that means?" he asks.

"Yes. It means I'm a decent person," you spit back.

"No. It means you're a whore," he says softly.

You want to tear out your hair, that's how frustrated you are. "Don't you dare call me a whore! I didn't call you a whore when you were holding hands with that girl the other day!"

"That was an accident. I tripped and fell, and my hands slipped into her hands," Fred says slowly, as if explaining something to a child.

"Accident my ass. Maybe you should go date her, then." You turn to leave, but Fred's hand reaches out and grabs your wrist. You yelp as it tightens.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demands. His hand tightens further, and you have to bite your lip from crying out. "We're supposed to watch a movie together."

"Fine. Just let me go." He lets go of your wrist, and the two of you settle down together on his leather couch. He puts on some sort of action movie, then slips his arm around your shoulders, his eyes glued to the television screen. You sit there, pretending to watch the movie, when really, you're somewhere else, floating away with your thoughts. And those thoughts always, somehow, end up on c/n.

✿

"No, I don't," you giggle.

"Yes, you do," c/n says, arguing that you have a specific "eating ice cream" face. "Your eyes widen and you smile like crazy," he says. He takes a bite of his chocolate chip ice cream. "It's cute."

You blush. Did c/n just call you cute? "I think you're lying." You take a bite of your (insert your favorite ice cream flavor here) ice cream. You reach forward to grab a napkin, and your sleeve pulls up as you do.

"What the hell happened?" c/n asks, eyes falling to the blue and green bruise on your wrist. "Those look like finger markings."

"Oh-no," you explain, offering c/n a hurried smile. "I tripped and slammed my wrist against the wall."

"And the bruise somehow curves to under your wrist?" c/n asks, eyes narrowing.

"Just leave it," you mutter.

"He did that, didn't he?" c/n asks, a stormy look passing over his face. "Why do you stay with him, y/n? He treats you like crap."