Corey Feldman Imagine
A/n: the only other corey imagine I had was dumb
I sat in my room with my best friend Corey, we were listening to records and just laying on the floor staring at the ceiling.
"I'm gonna dress you up in my love!" I sang along to Madonna, and Corey smiled and laughed over at me. At the end of the song, Corey sat up and fiddled with the shoe string of his old, worn out, beaten up Converse (my aesthetic). I sat up too, our shoulders touching, and rested my head on his.
"Are you okay?"
"Not really." He sighed. He had told me about what his mom did to him earlier (if u haven't read Corey's memoir do it rn) and it was pretty rough. I started to rub his back with my right hand, using my left on the floor to keep me balanced while I sat criss crossed apple sauce (right???).
Corey swallowed and turned his head, he started to look me deep in the eyes with his gorgeous, sad, brown ones.
"I'm glad I have you. Really, I am. And enough with this depressing shit." He grinned, I could still see the sadness in his eyes, but they seemed to brighten a little.
"Man, you're so bipolar." I said.
He gave me a look and lightly pushed me backwards. He started to tickle my sides.
"Agh, Corey, Quit!" I screeched, giggles and laughs pouring out my mouth uncontrollably.
"Nope, don't think so, (Y/N)!" he laughed too.
He tickled me for about 3 more minutes until I started choking from laugher.
My chest heaved while I tried to catch my breath. "You're such a bully, Feldman!"
"I know, I know." He grinned, and leaned in and gave me a tight, warm hug.
"Like I said, I'm glad I have you, (Y/N). Always." He whispered.
I blushed behind his back, ruffling his soft hair. "I'm glad I've got you too, Corey. You're pretty radical."
I grinned, thinking back to the beginning I moved in next door to him five years ago, and how we couldn't stand to be near each other. But now, look at this, I think I'm falling in love with this silly boy, the silly boy who goes by Corey Feldman.
A/N: does anyone even like my imagines?¿
