#I would like to hug this message and also whoever sent it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jooyeonsvape · 2 months ago

Text

guitar lessons (h.hj)

genre; smut

pairings; idol!hyeongjun, afab!reader

w/c; 2.3k

synopsis; Y/N came to visit hyeongjun at band practice and he teaches her how to play their new song on his guitar.

warnings; cursing, dirty talk, fingering, public sex, teasing

a/n; sorry i haven’t posted in a while, i’ll try posting more :)))

[ masterlists ]

hyeongjun was in the back of the practice room next to gunil, while the other band members occupied the front, and they just finished playing beautiful mind.

it was a dull day- not too bad, not great either, just boring. “let’s rerun more than i like,” jungsu calls out, looking around at all the members so everyone was on the same page, and gunil counts them off with his drumsticks.

you walk in jype company with a bag full of snacks and 6 coffees on a tray in each hand when you head to security, “Y/N, Y/L/N, to see hyeongjun of xdinary heroes.” the difficult part was setting the bag down to show him your I.D, then having to pick it back up, and also balancing the drinks so they don’t drop.

the large scruffy old man looks at his computer screen and scrolls painfully slow through the contacts junhan has listed. he didn’t answer, just gives you a small nod and the automatic doors open.

you hadn’t told hyeongjun about your visit, intending to surprise him when he sent you a message saying “im bored and i miss you :/“

as you walk to their practice room, an automatic smile spreads across your face when you look through the small window on the door and see hyeongjun playing guitar.

not wanting to disrupt, you wait until the music stops before typing in the code on the keypad and walk inside.

all the members heads instantly turn to the door and see you standing with the tray, jungsu runs over and grabs it from you with a laugh. “why did you not ask us to help you? we put all our numbers in your phone.”

the rest of the members gather and your eyes stay on hyeongjun, “i wanted it to be a surprise, i know you guys are working hard for this tour so you need to be spoiled every now and then.”

they all give you hugs and whisper ‘thank you’s after retrieving the coffees, “i also got snacks, there’s some junk, and some healthy.”

hyeongjun skipped the coffee line and just went straight to you with a half smile, half pout on his lips. “hi.” he whispers soft, wrapping his long arms around your body.

“are you happy to see me?” he chuckles in your neck and pulls away, “i am very happy to see you, you just made my day better.” your heart raced at his words and give him a soft peck on the lips.

although, he didn’t like to be affectionate with you infront of others, especially his band members, that didn’t stop him from nuzzling his head in your neck and holding you tight in his arms while the rest attack the snacks.

jiseok, jooyeon, and seungmin were sitting on a small couch in the corner while gunil, jungsu, hyeongjun, and you were on the ground, eating the snacks.

“i thought seungmin would like these, they look healthy,” you reach out and hand him the seaweed snack you bought at the store. “thank you mother,” he says in return, with a half bow and eats the chips.

after everyone was done, gunil looks at his watch, “day is over, whoever has solo training, go do that after you finish here.”

jooyeon let out a groan, followed by jiseok and see them hesitating to stand up. “thank you Y/N, i’m assuming you’ll be at the dorms tonight, see you guys later,” jungsu gives you a side hug while he speaks considering you were still on the ground, with hyeongjun wrapped around you tightly.

seungmin, jooyeon, and jiseok leave for their solo training while jungsu and gunil leave for the day. “are you staying for training too? i can either wait or leave and go to the dorms later,” you rub your boyfriends arm lovingly.

hyeongjun looks up and pecks your lips soft again, “i have to train, but you can stay baby, it wont take long.”

you nod and watch when he grabs his guitar from its stand, then begins to play george the lobster.

you watch him intently and sway to the music with a bright smile on your face. “wooo.” you wave your arms like a fan in the crowd and his lips turn into a smirk, but still focused on the chords.

he looks up at you after the song finishes and you stand up, walking so you could show him the video you took. “the faces you make are so hot.” you giggle, kissing his cheek soft, “okay, you can continue now.”

hyeongjun grabs your hand before you could walk away and spins you around, “do you want to learn how to play my guitar solo?”

you nod happily, this was a little more simple than the money on my mind solo, which you tried desperately to learn.

hyeongjun holds his guitar then walks the both of you to the couch and sits down, patting his lap. the blush on your cheeks was very evident and he puts the guitar over the both of you when you sat on his lap.

he shows you the chords and when you memorize them, you strum the guitar to the beginning of george the lobster. “good job baby girl.”

the name made you have another permanent blush on your cheeks, “you haven’t called me that in a while.” you giggle, strumming again until you learned the chords.

“i know, we’ve been so busy with the new album and now tour, im sorry.” hyeongjun rests his head in the crook of your neck and you move one of your hands to his hair, massaging soft. “no need to apologize, that’s why i’m here now, i want to spend as much time with you as i can.”

you heard a relieved sigh in your ear by your boyfriend and he kisses the skin on your neck gently. “you smell nice.” the whisper mixed with his kisses made shivers run down your spine and goosebumps form on your arms.

“i put on the perfume you bought me for my birthday.” you whisper back, biting down on your bottom lip to hold in a moan from the continuous kisses. “i know, it suits you so well.”

hyeongjun moves your hair to the side, exposing more skin on your neck and trails his tongue upward, stopping at the bottom of your ear. “h-hyeonjun…” you stutter but a knot in your throat stops you from continuing.

you swallow and let out a deep breath when his tongue swirls around a certain part of your neck, then you feel his teeth bite on it, leaving a small hickey.

“baby, you need to practice, i don’t want to distract you.” you turn your head so you could meet his gaze but he just smiles.

he grabs his guitar then sets it to the side and pulls you closer on his lap, “i think it’s too late for that-” hyeongjun whispers again and you felt something hard rubbing against the back of your thigh.

“-you came in here with a short skirt on after i told you i missed you.” he always was good at reading your intentions…

you just press your lips together and let out a soft giggle, “but still, i don’t think you should be so easily distracted baby.”

hyeongjun hums, “you aren’t needy at all?” he had a smirk on his lips and you shake your head, “not at all.” he reaches his hand around and rubs your inner thigh slow, “so if i touch your panties they won’t be wet for me?”

you huff, knowing you lost and turn your head to look at him again, “well that’s not fair, you’re the one giving me kisses on the neck, you know that’s my weakness.”

hyeongjun takes your lips in his while his hand trails up to your heat and your body jolts when you feel a finger tracing the outside of your panties. he slides it in and was met by the wetness that coated your folds, “not needy huh?”

you tilt your head back at the feeling so you’re resting against his shoulder and whimper in his ear, indicating you wanted more.

he keeps the same smirk on his face and looks down so he could see his two fingers sinking inside of you. “oh fuck junnie, your fingers are much longer than mine, i missed them.”

you felt his dick twitch on your thigh by your words and he pushes them deeper, “do you think of my fingers in you when you please yourself baby girl?”

you whimper again and nod fast, “i think about your tongue too.” hyeongjun blushes and rubs your clit with his thumb, “what else?”

sweat starts to build on your forehead from the pleasure and you look at him breathlessly, “i think of that day when we showered together and you had me against the wall, fucking me harder than you ever have before.”

he pulls his fingers out slow, a string of juice going with it and he puts his digits in his mouth, licking them clean.

“i don’t think i can wait any longer,” hyeongjun almost whines and you giggle, reaching a hand around to pull his dick out of his sweatpants.

you give it a few jerks while kissing his lips then lift your hips up and sit fully on him with a moan. you lean forward so he has a better view of your ass and start bouncing on him.

he leans back against the couch and lets you do the work, just enjoying this angle. he watches your pussy slam down on his dick with a smacking sound over and over while he groans at the pleasure.

you turn your head to see his face twitching and his mouth hanging open wide, making your pussy tighten around his cock. “i’m already close baby girl.” he chuckles soft, rubbing the skin of your ass.

you moan and bounce faster, wanting him to cum before anyone walks in. hyeongjun opens his eyes and sees a chest on the outside of the practice room door. “shit-“

he pulls you close to his chest and puts the guitar back over the both of you. “they’re back.” he whispers in your ear while he’s still inside you and you whine.

jooyeon comes in first with a dramatic sigh, followed by jiseok and seungmin. “hey, why are you two over there?” jooyeon asks with an eyebrow raise and hyeongjun goes back to his quiet self.

“just teaching her how to play.” you fake a smile and start strumming the chords he taught you earlier.

the three boys fake gagging noises in unison then laugh at themselves, “i didn’t know our junnie was so romantic.” seungmin chuckles, walking closer to the two of you on the couch.

you feel hyeongjun grab the back of your skirt and put it over his exposed dick that was currently still deep inside of you. “i’m not…” he whispers back with his ears red from embarrassment.

“do you want some?” jiseok asks, munching on a bag of chips you bought them. an idea pops in your head and you nod, “i do please.”

you sit up on hyeongjun’s dick halfway then reach over to grab a chip, sitting back down with a satisfied hum.

his fingers dig in your hips when you tease him and he looks at the other boys, “you done today? you should go back to the dorms, we’ll be right behind you.”

jooyeon was putting his bass in the case and looks over at hyeongjun, “why are you trying to rush us off? you can have alone time with Y/N later in your room.” he scoffs and slings the case behind his back.

jiseok was doing the same and he points at the two of you, “unless, he’s planning something extra romantic, like teaching her how to play a sappy song after and we’re messing up his game.”

you laugh at the two of them but make it dramatic so your body moves up and down, making hyeongjun’s fingers dig deeper.

“i’m warning you, stop.” he leaned in your ear and you smile to yourself. “i’ll buy dinner, what do you want Y/N?” seungmin asks before the three of them leave and you tap your chin, taking awhile to answer while rocking your hips nonchalantly.

“she wants chicken, sounds great, see you later.” seungmin presses his lips together tightly at hyeongjuns tone and he looks at the other boys, “let’s leave.”

when the room was empty besides you and your now angry boyfriend, you gulp. the only sounds were his pained breaths and he takes the guitar off of you, setting it aside again.

hyeongjun grabs you by the waist and picks you up, slamming you against a large speaker that was next to the couch, while still inside of you.

he lifts up your skirt and gives your ass a hard slap which you weren’t used to, he’s usually a gentle lover.

you whine at the slap and he gives you another one on the same spot, “what did i say?” he growls, slapping your other ass cheek until they were both beating red.

he lifts you up by the throat and kisses your neck, “don’t make me ask again.” you gulp and felt some of your juices leaking down your thigh from how sexy hyeongjun was right now.

“t-to stop…” you mumble and he tightens his grip on your throat, “but you didn’t did you? wanted me to cum infront of my friends huh?” you whine at his grip and shake your head.

he growls again and grabs one of your hips with his free hand, pumping inside of you fast while his other hand still has a grip on your throat.

you whine loud and hyeonjun snaps his hips as hard as he could, making you instantly tighten around him.

your orgasm rushed through your entire body, making your eyes see stars for a few seconds. “already came huh? good thing i don’t cum at easy as you do or i would’ve shot my load in you while my friends watched.”

the overstimulated made your body shake underneath him and hyeongjun smirks, giving your ass another slap while he fucks your harder.

“keep slapping my ass, make me cum again,” you moan out and he rubs your red ass in his hand. “of course my little slut would like me to abuse her.” he chuckles meanly and instead, turns you around so you were now sitting ontop of the speaker.

the lust in hyeongjun’s eyes had you cumming again and he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. pounding as hard as he could and nuzzling his face in your neck, he shoots his cum deep inside your pussy.

he breathlessly continues to pump slow in you until his high rides out, “fuck.” was all he panted, before pulling out of you.

you blush at him and close your legs, still sitting on the speaker box. “i didn’t know that dark part was hiding behind your sweet kisses and nice words.”

hyeongjun felt his ears get hot and kisses your lips softly, “come on, let’s go back to the dorm, i want to cuddle now.”

you watch while he packs all his belongings up and takes your hand so you could leave. “i’m going to make a list of things that make you mad so we can do that again.”

he gives you his bunny smile and hides his face in your neck in the elevator out of embarrassment. “fine fine, we’ll do it again.”

102 notes · View notes

cobaltperun · 9 months ago

Text

Eternal Flame (4) - What If

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Chapter summary: A panic attack pushes the boundaries of your and Jenna's friendship.

Spotify playlist

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next Part

Word Count: 6.2k

-What if I can't go on without you-

You were lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling. The darkness of the night, lessened only by the moonlight, consumed the room as you, but it was nothing compared to the dark storm raging within you.

You failed her.

You clenched your fist in frustration, your entire body tense with pent-up frustration. How could you not see just how uncomfortable Jenna was during the filming?! You dared to think everything would be fine, that she was fine, you failed to realize Jenna wouldn’t tell you she wasn’t comfortable, that she would deem it unprofessional and also as something that would make her seem like a burden.

You didn’t see it. Just how much effort she was putting in pushing herself to do the scene, you just saw the emotions she was meant to act out in her eyes, and you were cursing yourself for not seeing through them.

Your phone buzzed and you nearly ignored it, but the light coming from your phone screen was annoying and you got up to flip it over, just in case whoever sent that message tried again. You reached to grab the phone and froze.

Jenna needs you

You quickly opened the message, making sure you read it right and sure enough, that was what Melissa just sent you.

‘I’m not failing you again,’ you rushed to her room, just barely remembering to close the door of your own room. You didn’t know what was going on, didn’t know what Jenna needed you for, but she needed you, and with that in mind you went into her room and in a single moment recognized what was going on. Jenna was on her knees, held up by Melissa, clearly having a panic attack.

"Y/N, I don't know what to do," Melissa told you, frantic, hopeful that you would know what to do, and you nodded. In the back of your head you considered maybe you weren’t the right person to do this. After all, Jenna wasn’t comfortable enough to have a kiss scene with you, how was she supposed to be comfortable enough to let you help her through her panic attack.

You had to try though. “Jen,” you approached her slowly, as calmly as you possibly could. “Can you take a deep breath for me?” you asked as you knelt down in front of her, taking Melissa’s place. She didn’t do it yet, but she wasn’t trying to get away from you. You could do this, you could help her, you had to. You carefully placed your hand on top of her own, for now not wanting to think about what caused this, you needed to get her to calm down a bit first.

The relief flooded you as she took a slightly deeper breath and leaned closer to you. “That’s it, good,” you spoke softly, gently pushing a strand of Jenna’s hair back and wiped the sweat off her forehead. Slow and steady, just like Hugh did for you when you needed help.

Jenna, contrary to how uncomfortable with the kiss she was, closed the distance and allowed you to hug her, she even leaned her head on your shoulder and took a deep breath. “You’re safe,” you pulled her just a bit closer when she grabbed onto the hem of your shirt. “I’ve got you, just breathe,” you whispered.

“Sorry,” she sobbed, and you could feel tears through your shirt.

“Don’t be, just let it out,” you assured her while rubbing soft circles on her back. “It’s just me,” you could feel her shaking slightly as she cried. “You’ve got this, Jen,” you felt her hands slowly going from the hem of your shirt to your back as she gingerly hugged you back.

“I’m sorry,” Jenna repeated, and you weren’t exactly sure what she was apologizing for.

“We’ll handle it later, just focus on breathing,” you turned to Melissa who stood there, still unsure of what to do. “Could you get me a wet towel and a glass of water?” you asked, not wanting to let Jenna go just yet.

Melissa jumped at that but quickly went to the bathroom to get the towel, and then to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

“Please don’t be mad,” Jenna pleaded, and you found yourself nearly breaking at how devastated she sounded. Mad about what? This?

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” you told her. “I’m not mad, I promise,” you figured she needed to hear it directly, so you said it as Jenna let out a long sigh of relief.

“What do you need first?” Melissa came back with the towel and water.

“A towel,” you said, and then spoke to Jenna in a much gentler way, not that you were stern or anything with Melissa, but you were mostly neutral. “I’m going to pull away a bit, just to freshen you up a bit, okay?”

Jenna nodded and stopped hugging you, though she still kept holding onto the sides of your shirt. You took that as a sign and pulled back slightly, while still keeping one hand on her back. You took the towel from Melissa and gently wiped Jenna’s face and neck, taking a moment to wipe her tears with your thumb. “There,” you said to Jenna as you handed the towel back to Melissa and took the glass of water she was holding. “Can you drink on your own?” you asked and smiled as Jenna nodded. She reached up, though her hands were still trembling and took the glass, spilling a bit of water before you could steady it.

“Fuck,” Jenna hissed, frustrated at herself.

“It’s just water, you’re okay, it’s normal,” you kept reassuring her as the two of you brought the glass to her lips and she took a few sips, before Jenna pushed it back toward you and you handed the glass back to Melissa. “I’m going to lift you up now, okay? Take you to bed?” she couldn’t stay on the floor and with how much she was shaking that was probably your best bet.

Jenna shook her head. “I can go myself,” she finally smiled at you, and you just had to smile back, nodding and letting her lean on you as she got back up and, albeit a bit shakily, went to her bed. “Please, stay,” she requested as she settled down under the covers.

You sat at the edge of her bed and noticed she reached her hand out to you, so you took it, lightly caressing the back of her hand with your thumb. “Okay,” as easily as that you agreed to Jenna’s request.

Jenna smiled and squeezed your hand, but it was clear she wasn’t about to fall asleep, her entire body was still feeling the effects of the panic attack, even though she managed to calm down. She turned to Melissa. “Thanks, for calling Y/N,” she said and Melissa nodded, shuffling on her feet at the end of Jenna’s bed.

“I was pretty useless though. Got scared,” she admitted and looked away, and you could see the shame in her eyes at being unable to do anything but stand by and watch before you asked her to bring you the towel and water for Jenna.

“I’m sorry,” Jenna kept apologizing, even more ashamed than Melissa was and you restrained yourself from telling her she had nothing to apologize for. Melissa was the one who needed to tell her that right now.

And she did. “No, Jenna,” Melissa rushed to Jenna’s side and knelt right next to the younger actress. “You shouldn’t apologize for anything, I’m the one who froze up! Shit, I’m thirty and couldn’t do anything, I’m the one who should apologize,” Melissa was frustrated, and in a way rightfully so, you knew she cared about Jenna, yet she couldn’t do anything. “And then you,” she turned to you when Jenna remained silent. “Handled everything so well and I just can’t excuse how I acted.”

Normally you wouldn’t open up about it. Well, you would to Jenna, you were close and you weren’t worried about opening up to her and being vulnerable, but as much as you liked Melissa the two of you weren’t much more than colleagues that got along really well. Still, Melissa would only continue beating herself up, so, you took a deep breath and came clean. “It’s not as black and white, I just went through those, a lot, a few yours ago,” after… you couldn’t think about it now. You needed to focus on Jenna, the last thing she needed was to feel your distress. Back then Hugh stepped in since no one else managed to reach you, you were just doing what he did.

Jenna’s grip on your hand suddenly grew stronger and the sharp inhale were all you needed to understand Jenna’s reaction, but you still looked at her, at the surprise etched on her face and so much compassion. She probably would have figured it out as soon as she got a moment of clarity to think about it. So, you just shrugged, it was behind you, and while you could never say it wouldn’t happen again it has been some time since your last panic attack.

“That explains a lot,” Melissa sighed and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Thanks for being open with me,” she knew just as well as you did that your bond wasn’t really at the stage to talk about that. You nodded at that, and she pulled her hand back, her glance at your and Jenna’s hand suddenly made you feel a bit self-conscious. “I should probably leave the two of you alone,” she chuckled, and you noticed Jenna blushing at that. “Call me if you need anything, and just so you know, I won’t tell a soul about this,” she assured Jenna and hugged her, sighing in relief when Jenna wrapped her free hand around Melissa’s back. “This doesn’t change anything, I promise you, I still love you with all my heart,” Melissa kissed Jenna’s cheek and pulled away

“Thanks, I love you too,” Jenna whispered and watched as Melissa left the room, leaving the two of you alone.

A comfortable silence set between you and Jenna, she was still tense, but she calmed down, considerably. “Want to watch a comedy?” you suggested, remembering Hugh would often get you to watch some documentary to calm down since comedies weren’t really something you were in the mood for at that time.

Jenna sat up and nodded. “Got anything in mind?” she asked and you shrugged.

“We pick a random one and just watch it,” you were already getting up. “I’ll be back in a minute, just need to get my laptop and phone,” you assured her when you noticed her eyes widening for a moment.

Jenna relaxed at that and nodded, smiling. “I’ll be waiting,” she told you a bit shyly and you couldn’t help but admire her. When you had panic attacks it took you longer to be able to stay alone, the turmoil would remain even after you calmed down, and Jenna’s strength impressed you.

“One minute,” you repeated to her with a cheeky grin on your face as you opened the doors behind you. You went and got everything you needed as quickly as you could and indeed came back within a minute, much to Jenna’s amusement, though you could see relief in her eyes as well. “Where do you want to watch the movie?” you asked, already setting the laptop up on the table.

You glanced back and noticed Jenna patting the spot on the bed next to her while averting her gaze. Now you were officially confused, after the failed kiss scene you were worried about any touch that could make Jenna uncomfortable, yet here she was, offering to have you that close to her. “I mean, if you don’t mind!” she quickly clarified, likely noticing your lack of response.

“I don’t, I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you said slowly and approached her with the laptop and the reaction was instantaneous.

Jenna scrambled to her knees on the bed and latched onto you, hugging you tight and burying her face in your neck, immediately shaking once more and breathing heavily. “It’s not- I didn’t-“ she gasped and you tossed the closed laptop onto her bed and hugged her, recognizing the panic attack was starting again. “You’re mad,” she sobbed as you tried to ground her once more.

“I’m not,” you whispered in her ear and pulled back, lightly nudging her chin up so she would look you in the eyes, hoping she would be able to see how sincere and serious you were about this. And you saw some clarity in her eyes, a sign you managed to prevent another full-blown panic attack, at least for tonight. “I’m not mad, Jen, I never was,” she should be the one who is mad, not you, but you feared telling her that would only make things worse right now. “I’m not mad,” you leaned your forehead against her own and closed your eyes as you wiped the few tears away. “Breathe with me, okay?” you felt a slight nod.

Jenna took a deep, shuddering breath, and then another, and she kept doing it, slowly, surely, getting her breathing under control. “Everything will be okay, we’re okay,” she calmed down a bit more with those words. “I’ve got you,” you needed her to know and feel she was safe, not be stuck in whatever thoughts were plaguing her mind.

“I caused a scene,” she breathed out, frustrated at herself. “I see them looking, blaming me, and it is my fault, but I see them blaming you as well!” you froze for a moment, not expecting this outburst. “You didn’t do anything, it was all me,” her lower lip trembled as she said that.

“It isn’t your fault,” you whispered, letting her move and once more bury her face in your neck. “Don’t ever feel guilt for not doing something you’re uncomfortable with,” you really thought that was the issue, so you approached it like that, but Jenna just shook her head, hugging you tighter as if you were going to let go of her. You weren’t going to, not until she calmed down, not until this all passed.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable, I just, I couldn’t separate things, separate us from our characters,” she whispered, and you realized you got it wrong, and you’ve never been as relieved to be wrong as you were right now. Jenna wasn’t uncomfortable, you just got too close as friends. Building this strong bond made things awkward when kiss or more intimate scenes were involved, and you understood it completely. “I,” she began but stopped herself and you knew better than to push her to say anything she wasn’t completely ready to say.

“It’s okay, thanks for telling me,” you would have never forgiven yourself if you hurt her in any way, if at any point she felt like she had to do anything. “I thought I fucked up, in a way I did when I didn’t notice something was wrong. I should have stopped it,” you admitted, and Jenna’s breath hitched. “I didn’t know how to approach you, how to apologize properly, so I wanted to wait until the morning,” you now knew that was a mistake. If you just had the guts to go to her right away this probably could have been avoided. Hindsight 20/20, you supposed. “Guess we both panicked tonight,” you joked lightly and felt at ease when Jenna chuckled a bit and gradually, on her own, let go of you.

“We did,” she sat back on the bed and wiped the few tears away. She smiled at you and patted the spot next to her. “Let’s just watch a movie?” Jenna suggested. Everything was a mess, the sheets, the blanket, the pillows, yet it didn’t matter, you both got comfortable, and Jenna leaned on you as you found a random comedy to watch.

~X~

Jenna woke up, still emotionally exhausted, her brain immediately repeating the scenes from the last night. She could still see Melissa's panicked expression when she closed her eyes. She could still see you and she saw it all vividly. And she wasn't sure if her heart pounding in her chest was due to another panic attack or if it was because of everything that happened with you. You held her so gently, like she was the most precious person in your life, yet so firmly at the same time, as if fearing she’d slip out of your grasp if you loosened your hold on her. Her family was the most supportive family she could hope for, loving her, cheering for her, keeping her grounded and humble… Still, she never had anyone support her through a panic attack before, especially like this, Aliyah froze a lot like Melissa did, and her parents were busy, so she didn’t want to add yet another thing for them to worry about. You just came in and handled it, calming her down not once, but twice. You knew what to do, and you did it, probably taking notes from your own panic attacks.

Jenna’s heart broke at the thought of you going through panic attacks. How many did you go through on your own? How did your family respond to them? Who calmed you down? She wanted to ask so many things, but she didn’t want to reopen the old wounds. She turned to the other side, only to see you there at her table, doing something on your laptop.

Her heart definitely sped up because of you.

"You stayed," she spoke before she could even consider if that was what she should say first. Before thanking you, before wishing you a good morning. But you stayed, you didn't leave her, you kept your promise. When she asked you to stay, she hoped you’d stay until she fell asleep, but you went above and beyond, probably staying in her room all night long. A blush crept up to her cheeks when she remembered watching the movie, the comedy was awful, and half-way through you just muted it and began making up dialogue, nudging Jenna to join you and improvise. She laughed so hard just the thought of all the ridiculous things the two of you came up with made her smile.

You snapped out of whatever you were doing and turned around and you really should have given her a warning. "Hey," you smiled, and she really should Google if it was healthy to start her day with her heart going out of control. You were wearing glasses, and she had to rub her eyes to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Wouldn’t be the first time.

‘Well, it would be the first time I dreamt of you wearing glasses, but not my first time dreaming- What am I thinking?!’ she was panicking for a whole new reason now, and it wasn’t that scary panic from last night, it was much, much worse. It was a ‘you look good and who turned the heat up’ kind of panic and the embarrassment was getting to her.

How the-

Who gave you the right to look like the most adorable dork with glasses? It was ridiculous, the glasses made you look like a completely different person, less serious, or intense, or just something, somehow, Jenna wasn’t even sure anymore! Not that she thought about you like that a lot, but she had eyes, and she noticed the way your muscles and height made you look more intimidating. At least at a first glance, one glance later and it was clear you were basically a teddy bear. She was attentive to details, it was not her fault. Glasses kind of just stripped that intimidating factor away. Jenna bitterly thought that maybe there really was something to that Clark Kent disguise just to get her mind off the way you looked now.

This wasn’t helping her crush at all. It was making it worse! Wasn’t taking the glasses off meant to cause this reaction, not putting them on?!

Who was she trying to fool, she was just trying her best to suppress her feelings and now it was all getting out of hand because she, apparently, had a thing for you wearing glasses!

‘Or, or, I could just admit I have a thing for Y/N in general, that’ll definitely help me be professional!’ she thought sarcastically.

She saw you raising an eyebrow and then saw the realization in your eyes. "Right, guess this was a surprise," you chuckled and reached up to take them off. Alarms went off, a disaster was about to strike, you could not be allowed to think you shouldn’t wear glasses around her!

"NO!" Jenna cried out, jumping out of bed and stumbled, pulling her blanket along. "Oh fu-" she tripped on the blanket and nearly fell face first on the floor, she would have, if you didn't jump yourself and catch her.

"Woah there," you chuckled, prompting Jenna to start laughing as well, though she was laughing mostly out of embarrassment. This really was a ridiculous situation.

She managed to free herself from the blanket, but remained in your arms, her hands firmly holding onto your forearms. Well, maybe glasses didn't make you an entirely new person. And you had moments of being adorable without glasses as well. And, she was so doomed and just had to know it. "Keep them on?" she asked, suddenly feeling shy and timid.

You smirked.

You fucking smirked and she didn't mind one bit as long as you kept them on.

Fuck. She's got it bad.

“Whatever you want, Jen,” you were absolutely teasing her, and she felt like she deserved it for having such a monumental crush on you.

“You look adorable with glasses,” there, she said it, and got her payback as your eyes widened and you raised your hand to lightly scratch your cheek, grinning like a goofball and looking to the side. Was it too dramatic to think she could die happy now?

You finally looked at her again. “You too,” and then your own words registered in your brain and you pulled away. “Fuck!” you clenched your fists and cursed through your teeth as you turned away from Jenna. “Adorable! You look adorable too, all the time,” you corrected and facepalmed before quickly shutting your laptop down. “That’s it. Too embarrassed,” for a moment she could avoid panicking over your own compliment and just adoringly watch as you panicked over complimenting her back. “Not my fault you’re beautiful, and my brain loses all control over my mouth and the things that come out of it,” you muttered, clearly annoyed as you put the laptop in the bag. “You too,” you mocked yourself and grabbed your laptop and phone. “Like you’re wearing glasses too, fucking dumbass,” you were too adorable right now and Jenna really, really wanted to kiss you to stop the rant you were on.

No! None of that! You were friends!

Friends absolutely fall asleep on the same bed and spend the night cuddled together after one of them has a panic attack.

Did the relationship between your characters in the very movie you were filming right now teach her nothing?

“See you on set! Bye!” you were being dramatic and Jenna just dropped down on her bed and glanced at the side of her bed you were sleeping on.

A single question went through her mind. ‘Is it just a crush or am I in love?’

And worse than anything, she knew exactly what the answer was.

~X~

Another night shoot extended from Friday to Saturday and you all ended up going to a local fast food restaurant for a quick bite. You haven’t really slept that much the night before, you barely took a nap, really, instead you made sure Jenna was okay as she slept. The hours after the panic attacks were generally difficult, the body still full of adrenaline and prone to restless night filled with randomly waking up from either a nightmare or just for any reason really. Luckily Jenna didn’t wake up, and she didn’t have nightmares, but you still stayed awake, letting her basically use your chest as a pillow. It wasn’t until the morning that you actually slipped out from under her and went to get some work done on your laptop.

It was a good thing none of you were all that easily recognizable just yet, because all any of you wanted right now was to have a quick bite at three in the morning and go to sleep as quickly as possible. You were so tired and desperate to sleep that you just ordered fries and were sleepily munching on them as you leaned on the wall.

Weight dropped onto your side, and you looked down, seeing Jasmin, who was previously sitting next to you, just leaning her back on your side and eating her meal. “Get off,” you muttered sleepily, though you didn’t move to push her off, it wasn’t worth the effort.

“Nah, you’re comfier than my chair,” she downed the rest of her soda and yawned. “Where were you last night?” that definitely woke you up, and it seemed to wake the rest of your co-stars as well.

“Oh, late night escapades? Someone got lucky?” Sonia teased you as you rolled your eyes.

“Mhm, all the Pokémon I caught got really lucky,” you dismissed them both and pretended to get really invested in the menu. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Jenna barely containing the blush appearing on her face.

“I’d believe it if the Pokémon was 5 foot 1,” Mason joked earning a laugh from Jasmin and Sonia and causing Jenna to look down and make herself as small as she could be.

“Mason,” Melissa warned him to stop with a look.

“Yeah, not happening after that thing on the set the other day,” Jack commented, and you could swear you could hear the pin drop when he said that, and you sat up, pushing Jasmin off you as well.

“None of your business, any of this,” the glare you sent Jack was more than enough of the message, because you haven’t once gotten angry on set, haven’t once raised your voice, haven’t once gotten as serious as you did just now.

“Okay, okay, let’s just finish eating and chill,” Mikey jumped in to calm the situation down before it could escalate further and a single glance toward Jenna told you to drop it, to not bother with this anymore. So, for Jenna, you did, you just huffed and finished your food.

“Good idea, tensions are high, we’re all tired, let’s just go to the beach on Sunday, chill out, relax,” Mason suggested and thus the conversation of where you were last night, or your and Jenna’s failed kiss scene got pushes aside in favor of making plans for Sunday.

When you came back to the room you got ready for bed and glanced at your phone. “Fuck it,” you unlocked it and opened your Instagram messages with Jenna.

03:43 YN L/N: How are you?

You sat down on your bed, wondering if you should really be as glued to your phone as you were right now, waiting to see if Jenna would answer it. Ten minutes passed as you doom scrolled through different posts when your phone buzzed,

03:53 Jenna Ortega: Sorry, I was taking a shower

Well, that was an information you did not need to know. And you definitely didn’t need to form that image in your head! Damn you brain!

03:53 Jenna Ortega: I’m okay, I promise. ❤️❤️ Glasses though? You didn’t explain them this morning

You honestly hoped she wasn’t trying to change the subject and was just curious. Too bad the answer was quite a boring one.

03:54 Y/N L/N: Sorry to disappoint, it’s just for blue light, I wear them when I work on my laptop. Should probably wear them when I watch movies in bed as well

03:55 Jenna Ortega: That would be very appreciated. Want to watch something tomorrow?

03:55 Jenna Ortega: As long as you wear glasses of course 🥺

Okay, she wasn’t changing the subject. That made you grin.

03:56 Y/N L/N: Sure, you’re picking a movie this time

You really couldn’t handle watching another disaster, even if you and Jenna turned it into something fun.

Jenna just sent you a thumbs up and you could finally rest.

~X~

A weekend filled with rest and relaxation, both on the beach and in Jenna’s room watching movies and hanging out later you and Jenna were once again filming together. The scene where C/N comes into her room while Sam is sleeping, after Tara figures out Amber is one of the killers. Melissa wasn’t with you, since she would basically be in only several frames, and under the blanket so her double handled that bit of the scene. Jenna was already in the position as you came into the room, followed by the camera.

Jenna looked, well she always looked beautiful, but the dim light bouncing off her face, the way her eyes shone in the darkness, it made you freeze completely, ruining the first take. “Sorry!” you quickly apologized to everyone around you and shrugged at Jenna who just gave you a thumbs up.

You could feel yourself getting into trouble over this.

‘She’s your co-star and a dear friend, get it together!’ you took a deep breath and pushed the growing feelings for Jenna down as much as you could. You had to, otherwise you’d really be in trouble, and it would only be a matter of time before it becomes too difficult to hide. You couldn’t afford that, Jenna was too important to you to just let the unrequited feelings mess things up.

~X~

She couldn’t black out again, she struggled to get into Tara’s character, though it didn’t matter. The scene in question was a soft, romantic one, and as you slipped under the covers and she hugged you Jenna noticed she was much calmer this time. The worry from the last time persisted, strengthened by the trust forged between you.

How would you feel knowing she couldn’t properly separate you and your character? She imagined it would feel unpleasant to say the least.

At the same time she was very much aware that you both crossed that line between personal and professional in more ways than one. Staying by Jenna’s side through her panic attack and the days that followed were the proof of that, and you were aware of Jenna’s issue with filming these scenes with you. You just didn’t know the exact reason, still believing Jenna’s issues were just based on your friendship and not the already developed crush Jenna had on you.

So, instead of blacking out like she was used to doing, Jenna decided to just go with the flow, to let the scene play out the way she felt it should.

“Call me love again,” she said her line and got lost in your eyes. Were you just acting? Looking at her with so much love and admiration? Was there even a hint of real feelings or was she just a lovestruck teen getting ahead of herself?

“I’ll call you whatever you want, Love,” your voice was just as gentle as it was last week when she was having a panic attack, just as soft, and you glanced at her lips for a moment. Should she go off script? Would you let her? From what she saw you wouldn’t have any troubles stopping Jenna way before she could make you uncomfortable.

“Again,” it felt so easy, so right this time. The guilt over not blacking out was there, she doubted she could ever be rid of it as long as these feelings remained, but there was a pull she couldn’t get ignore. A pull she didn’t want to ignore, and she just let it lead her, pull her closer to you.

“My Love,” the scene was supposed to end there, you were done, you just needed to wait for Matt to say ‘Cut’ and be done with it, but she leaned in, looking for the permission in your eyes and you actually closed the distance as well.

She could almost feel the brush of your lips against her own and you both waited a moment, waiting for anyone to stop you, but no one said anything and Jenna just leaned in, kissing you in the most modest way she possibly could, just connecting your lips.

It felt right, it felt right for the characters, it felt right for the two of you, it just felt right. And it felt good. She really was in trouble as she tentatively deepened the kiss and you brushed your fingers against her cheek, cradling it before Jenna pulled away, unable to wipe the smile of her face. It was nowhere near as passionate as the kiss the script originally intended, but you kissed, even if it was just an improvisation.

“Cut, I guess. I have no words,” Matt sighed and Jenna honestly felt pity for him. Just last week she stopped a kiss scene and now she included an unscripted kiss without talking to anyone, you included, about it. “Don’t get me wrong, that was great, but still, no words.”

“You can always cut the kiss part,” you chimed in as Jenna sat up and moved to the edge of the bed to sit while you seemed to just be content lying there.

Tyler sighed and approached you and Jenna. “Okay, we really need to sit down and figure out where your characters are. Do we cut out Tara and Amber’s relationship and have Tara and C/N together from the start? Remove any of Tara’s relationships from this movie and just get Tara and C/N together in the sequel if it happens? Have them get together here? You’ve been playing these characters for over a month now, where do you see them?”

Jenna didn’t expect this question, she didn’t expect to be asked, or to influence the decision in a way. Though, she would be lying if she said she didn’t appreciate it. “They are both traumatized, they aren’t ready for a relationship,” she began, her voice shaking slightly until you finally sat up and put your arm around her shoulder.

Matt raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t make any comments.

“That hardly ever stops people from getting into relationships,” Tyler pointed out, and well, she really couldn’t disagree with that.

“True, but this would be a really bad timing,” you easily took her side and in response to that Jenna leaned a bit closer to you. If she had to pick out just one thing she really loved about you it would have to be how confident you were. You made discussing with movie directors look easy, like you were certain there wouldn’t be bruised egos after the conversation.

Still, there was a growing feeling within her, something that’s been on her mind since she first read the script. Even if the actual kiss, as far as kissing you went, it still felt rushed for Tara and C/N, and being traumatized was just a part of her reasoning. “Can’t we just make a bridge between this movie and the sequel if it gets approved?”

Matt finally joined the three of you. “What do you mean?”

Jenna felt her cheeks turning slightly red. As used to attention as she was it still felt embarrassing at times. “You want to make C/N retire from MMA, you want to get them together, so why not just do it in a short movie? Release it online just before the sequel if we end up making one?” thinking about it now she figured there were several flaws in her idea, mainly getting the higher ups to agree to the idea, but she genuinely thought that would be for the best.

You nodded at her idea. “Complications aside, as far as the actual story goes, this is about as realistic as it can get for their relationship, regardless of whether or not Tara and Amber stay as girlfriends in the final cut. C/N just reunited with Susan and nearly lost Tara several times, and Tara got attacked, nearly died, and then had to shoot her girlfriend slash friend. They aren’t fit to start a relationship at any point of the movie,” you absolutely agreed with Jenna.

And from the looks of it, so did Matt and Tyler as they exchanged a look. “Okay, we’ll see what we can do a d get back to you about it soon enough,” Tyler agreed.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @freakshow2501 @osnapitzmel1 @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths

@niqmandu @justspance @mirage018

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next Part

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x female reader #x reader #x female reader

169 notes · View notes

thepeaklegendoffirstgen · 2 months ago

Note

H-hello.. so i had an idea.. may i req for..

What if one night, when goo came home late after work, it was empty. Where is the reader?! She was being kidnapped! And the kidnapper sent him some clues through a message to where the location is. Goo whos ready to fight for his lover, even bringing his sword, go to the place. But it turns out a birthday surprise! (He doesnt realize it at all) (yes he (always) forgot his own birthday) and the rest is up to you♡

I hope this makes sense🥹🥹🥹 thank you so much in advance💕

“I’m back, sweetheart,” Goo called out, bursting through the door. It had been an exhausting day—people really had no manners these days. Instead of letting things go smoothly, they always found ways to add to his workload, making everything unnecessarily difficult. How rude.

What was even ruder was that you didn’t respond to his greeting. Were you asleep or something? No, that couldn’t be it. You always waited for him, no matter how late it got. And today, of all days, when he was desperate to see you again, you were nowhere to be found.

You weren’t in the bedroom. Not in the kitchen. Not even in the lounge. A sense of unease grew in his chest as he searched the penthouse. Then his eyes landed on your walk-in closet—and his heart dropped.

Written across the mirror in your favorite lipstick shade were the words:"COME GET HER, WE ALSO LOVE TO DEAL IN CASH, GOO KIM."

No phone number. Just an address. One of HNH Company’s plots.

Frantically, he searched the entire penthouse again, hoping—praying—it was one of your elaborate jokes. Even the security camera was useless—broken and hacked. Your number was unreachable.

This wasn’t a joke.

This was a declaration of war.

Whoever was behind this was going to pay. He thought briefly of calling Gun, but no—Gun would say he couldn’t even protect the one person who mattered. This wasn’t just about your safety anymore. His pride was on the line.

He grabbed his sword. It was time to hunt.

The address was bold—too bold. So nearby. That kind of arrogance made his blood boil. Whoever these bastards were, they were going to regret touching what was his. He swore he’d break every finger that laid a hand on you.

Lost in fury, he climbed to the top floor of the building on foot—no elevator. Something felt off. The eerie silence made sense in its own twisted way. The message had mentioned the top floor, but he was convinced it was a trap, a decoy. You were probably hidden somewhere deeper.

Still, he kicked the door open with all his might, ready to tear the place apart.“WHERE IS SHE?” he bellowed.

But instead of the bloodbath he expected, the lights came on—and a chorus erupted:

“Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday dear Goo,

Happy birthday to you…”

What the—?

There you were, standing in the center, cake in your hands, surrounded by his colleagues and friends. The moment felt surreal. While everyone continued singing, he rushed straight to you.

“Are you okay?” he asked urgently, scanning you for injuries like a worried puppy.

Before you could answer, Kouji scoffed, “Shameless. We're all here because of you and this is how you react?” Crystal shot him a glare—she hadn’t liked the kidnapping idea either but had gone along because you insisted.

You smiled. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Please, put the sword down.” He blinked, still trying to process. “It was… a prank?”

“Yeah. I thought a little harmless trick would make the surprise more exciting.”

“Harmless?” he exclaimed. “My heart almost exploded! Even Korea’s best doctor couldn’t have saved me.”

He pulled you into a tight hug, his relief pouring out.

“Ahem…” DG cleared his throat, his cool detachment never wavering. “She’s fine now. Let’s focus on the actual event.”

Goo reluctantly let you go. The "main task"? What the hell was this guy on about? He wanted to punch his perfect face.

“Oh yes! Goo, now cut the cake and make a wish!” you beamed.

Suddenly, it dawned on him.

Today was his birthday.

Gun, reading his expression, smirked. “I think this dumbass just realized it’s his birthday.”

Everyone burst into laughter.

Goo felt… strange. Birthdays were never something he thought much about—at least not before you. But now, it felt different. You acted like it was the most important date on the calendar. And though your prank nearly gave him a heart attack, he had to admit—it was memorable.

“Oh no! The blondie is crying!” Kouji teased. “Didn’t I say he would? Where’s my money?”

This time, even DG looked like he wanted to bury him alive. You, with a smile too sweet and a vein twitching on your forehead, looked equally menacing.

Despite the chaos, Goo finally cut the cake, and everyone presented their gifts. Gun’s gift—a custom-made Japanese sword—deeply touched him, though he stuck his tongue out at him anyway. Each gift meant more to him than he expected, swelling his heart with gratitude.

Chairman Choi hadn’t made it, but he gave the best gift as always—extra time off and a massive cash transfer. Nothing beat that.

Then Goo noticed a small box you were trying to hide. He snatched it.

“TO MY LITTLE WEINER,” it read.

His expression soured instantly.“Tom Lee,” he muttered with venom.

You quickly threw the box away and tried to distract him. “Sooo… did you like the surprise?”

He looked at you, letting out a deep sigh. “You drive me insane, babe,” he murmured, nuzzling into your neck.

“So… you liked it?” you teased again.

“The celebration—yes. But that prank? What the hell was that?”

You smiled softly. “I knew you'd only come if I did something dramatic. Otherwise, you’d have made some excuse. ‘It’s not important,’ ‘Just another day’... I know you too well.”

His eyes softened.

Yes, he would come. No matter what. No matter where. Even if it meant going to hell and back.

He kissed your forehead—a silent vow, an unsaid thank-you—and you melted into his arms, because today wasn’t just a birthday.

It was the day your hero—your knight in shining armor—was born.

#lookism #lookism x reader #goo kim #Goo kim x reader

88 notes · View notes

sc0tters · 2 years ago

Text

His Caretaker | Jamie Drysdale

summary: after Jamie has too much to drink you get called to help get your boyfriend home.

request: yes/no

warnings: mentions of being drunk, tooth rottingly sweet couple.

word count: 1.54

authors note: Jamie gives me such soft vibes and this is fully what this piece is based off on. The baseball fan in me loves that picture of him (not even an angles fan but I’m willing to look past that). Fluff is not my forte so I’m gonna hope that this isn’t shit and sorry that you’ve had to wait so long for your request to be filled!

Somehow you should have known you wouldn’t be getting your own way tonight.

A relaxing evening was what you had planned for yourself after you turned Jamie’s offer of joining him and the boys at the bar. Sure you wanted to spend time with your boyfriend but going out was the last thing you felt like doing after the hectic day of college classes that you had been through all you wanted was a nice bubble bath.

Sure Jamie was a little upset that you didn’t want to come but when you told him to have a good night for the two of you, he seemed to take that a little bit more literally than you intended.

A groan fell from your lips when your phone began to ring “yes?” You tried to act like Jamie hadn’t just interrupted the movie you were watching.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought you heard your boyfriend in the background of the call “y/n you gotta come get Jamie,” Trevor explained as he was somewhat panicked “I wanna say hi!” Jamie whined as his eyes lit up at the mention of you.

You were quick to get up as you grabbed your shoes “I’ll be there in like fifteen?” Anaheim wasn’t usually known for its traffic but you knew that it would be longer for a weekend on what was bar central street “I want her now,” it was the complaint in Jamie’s voice that made you know he was doing his puppy dog face that he would do whenever he would want to get his way in something that you two were planning “and tell Jamie to stop pouting because I’m coming,” you pointed out as you shut the front door to the apartment.

It wasn’t hard to find the boys, Trevor had sent you a message saying that they were going to sit out front as some of the other boys were now also waiting for their girlfriends “y/n!” Jamie cheered as he saw you get out of your car.

A smile formed on your lips as you couldn’t help but laugh “hi baby,” he almost knocked you off of your feet as he wrapped his arms around you “missed you,” he confessed now making all of the boys laugh.

You kissed his cheek as he nuzzled his head in crook of your neck “you can let go of me,” despite the fact that the hug felt really nice you sort of needed to look at his friends to talk to them “never,” Jamie shook his head not liking your idea.

Somehow you managed to position yourself to actually see them whilst not letting go of Jamie “I’m going to get this man child home,” you announced drawing a scoff from your boyfriends lips.

Jamie furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you “I’m not a man child!” He complained as he let his lips form a pout again “you’re my man child,” you spoke in a duh tone as you pecked his lips. It was that gesture that almost made him melt as his irritated look turned soft and smiley “let’s go,” he nodded as he sent a wave to his friends. The boys all couldn’t help but shake their heads as they waved back knowing that the Canadian was not going to remember this tomorrow.

It seemed that the second Jamie’s head hit the headrest of his seat he was out. In all honesty you couldn’t help but look over to him occasionally to smile at yourself, you found yourself the cutest boyfriend you could have asked for “baby?” Jamie mumbled as he looked at you when the car stopped at a red light.

His eyes fluttered open as he had woken himself up “hi love,” you felt giddy as he reached out to grab your right hand. Usually whoever was driving only got one hand for the steering wheel as the other was usually being held by the passenger, Jamie’s real favourite place to put his hand though was actually on your knee when he drove you two through the streets of California.

The soft sounds of the engine rumbling seemed to help Jamie fall back asleep but not before he could remind you “I love you,” it was like each time he said it you fell more and more in love with him.

Even though he was asleep you still responded “I love you too,” as you kissed his hand before you continued the rest of the drive back to your apartment.

The only real thing that you had felt on the way up to your apartment was the warmth of Jamie’s hand, he had this smug looking smile on his face too “what’s got you all happy?” You asked as the elevator doors opened up to your floor.

Jamie threw his arm around you “you love me,” he slurred as he tapped his finger on your nose.

It drew a laugh from your lips “yeah I do,” you nodded in amusement as he repeated that you loved him all the way until the two of you reached your door.

Thankfully you hadn’t locked it so it meant that you two could just walk right back in “I’m gonna need you to strip baby,” you cooed as you realised that the front of his white shirt had beer spilt on it.

The comment only made Jamie smirk “didn’t know you were so horny,” he teased as he placed his hands on your hips.

You shook your head “don’t want you sleeping in this,” you explained causing him to look down at his outfit, those denim shorts really weren’t ideal to sleep in.

All the boy could do was mutter an “oh” as he began to walk to your room. As drunk as he was he still seemed to have that clear thinking part of him.

He pulled the shirt over his head letting you get a moment to look at his naked chest “you like what you see?” Jamie asked as he began to unzip his pants. You smiled as you nodded “got me a cute boyfriend,” you announced as you placed a peck on his lips.

With his clothes now on the floor you picked them up “let’s go brush your teeth,” on the way to the bathroom you had the chance to drop his clothes into the hamper.

It seemed like Jamie remembered the few times that he had taken care of you in the bathroom as he walked over to the sink “sit on that,” you shook your head as the height difference between you two was not going to make brushing his teeth easy if he was stood up.

Jamie sat on the lid of the toilet as you had him open his mouth “you’re so bossy,” he mumbled as you placed his toothbrush in his mouth.

You sent him a thoughtful look as you contemplated entertaining his conversation “I’m just helping you.” You pointed out as you continued to brush his teeth “it’s hot,” you were surprised that you heard what he said between the toothpaste and the toothbrush in his mouth.

A smile formed on your lips “thank you,” you bit your lip as you tried to not let your cheeks turn pink.

His hands trailed up your legs before they wrapped around behind you to squeeze your ass “keep your hands to yourself mister,” you warned causing him to giggle as he raised his hands in surrender.

These cute moments in your bathroom weren’t usually a thing as you both had very different morning schedules and not to mention that Jamie didn’t live with you, he just had a lot of his clothes there “go spit and rinse,” you reminded him as you took the toothbrush out of his mouth.

He followed your request as he dried his face before he looked up to you with an over exaggerated grin “nice and shiny,” he spoke as you nodded before you motioned to him to go back to your bedroom.

Your walk back to your bed was short as you watched Jamie plop onto the mattress “oh my god you’re taking up the whole bed!” You complained with a laugh as you watched him sprawl out on his back “there’s space for you,” Jamie nodded to himself as he smiled.

You played your hands on your hips “where?” You waited for him to answer but instead you were met with his hands on your hips as he pulled you onto him “J!” You squealed as he wrapped his arms around you practically trapping your body on top of his.

The boy let out a giggle as he kissed your forehead “isn’t this nice,” he confessed causing you to look up at him “I have to go brush my teeth,” you reminded him as he groaned “nope,” Jamie shook his head sending you a grin in the process.

You furrowed your eyebrows “what do you mean no?” In all honesty you thought he was kidding “I love you and your smelly breath,” the hockey player confessed as it was now your turn to laugh.

You used to say that you were lucky he loved you.

But that made you think it was possibly the other way around tonight.

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x y/n #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale x you #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale oneshot #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey imagines #oneshots #imagines #amber writes fics

528 notes · View notes

ingravinoveritas · 2 months ago

Note

Speaking as a trans uk person who grew up under section 28 and is just a few years younger than David, that reaction on the Assembly last night is the most ‘I think in another time, I wouldn’t have been entirely cis’ response I’ve ever seen. I’ve got a couple of friends of similar age and similar ‘I’m cis because I wasn’t able to be anything else’ mindset and just… I hope he’s happy, and I hope his loved ones give him the support around this whatever he decides and feels.

Oh, Anon. I'm sorry, I am so behind in answering Anons and trying to catch up now. But I saw this message when you sent it in and first of all, big hugs to you (if you are okay with that).

Secondly, though, I can't thank you enough for writing in and sharing this, as being a contemporary of David's and trans, your perspective is absolutely invaluable and carries so much weight. I am a non-trans, non-UK person, but I had a similar reaction to what David said on The Assembly, and from the DMs I've gotten and conversations that have happened since it aired, it seems others have, too.

I have more thoughts on this related to what was said on the episode of David's podcast that Georgia hosted, so I am going to try and save a lot of those thoughts for another post in response to the numerous Anons I have gotten about that. But for me, what stands out are two particular things.

One is that this is now the second time that David has specifically mentioned his experiences with Section 28 and homophobia growing up while also getting choked up/emotional about it. In this instance, he was specifically asked what made him start supporting the trans community...and this is what he said. He did not at all mention his nonbinary child--which of course doesn't mean that Wilf isn't part of the reason--but what David goes to directly in his answer is homophobia and Section 28.

What makes this so significant is that he spoke of it not as someone who saw it from the outside, but who had experienced it from within--something I also noticed in his podcast interview with Russell T. Davies, where RTD talks about discovering he was gay and the process of navigating his sexuality and David essentially "fills in the blanks" as RTD is talking, as if he'd gone through it himself.

Seeing David get so emotional--where it wells up in you and fills your chest and something in the core of you tightens automatically no matter how hard you try to stop it--is something I felt like I recognized. Something that comes from a place of trauma, where you don't just remember a certain event or incident, but relive everything you felt when it was happening. And it breaks my heart to think that he has been through things like that and may still be dealing with them now.

I think your comment about "in another time" echoes into this, because that's been another recurring theme in these conversations. It's this idea that David seems to have that his children and the younger generation on the whole can be whoever they want to be...but he can't. As if somehow it's too late for him to change, to be who he wants to be.

In David's recent appearance on Lorraine, she gushed over how much she loves David and Michael together and how people think they are married, and ends by saying, "In another world." That she (and so many others) can plainly see what's between them and that in another world, Michael and David would be together.

We all only get this one life. This one shot at being here, at being alive long enough to find what makes us happy and hold on like hell to it.

...So why not in this time? Why not in this world?

You're never too old to figure out who you are, or to embrace it. To realize that safety is not the same thing as happiness. To let go of being afraid, to finally come out of survival mode and have the chance to just live in the world.

Shouldn't David get to have that same chance?

A few weeks ago, I noticed some fans on Twitter/X talking about TERF/GCs "accusing" David of being trans. These fans immediately leapt to David's defense: "What? People actually think David is trans?" and "No way! David is NOT trans." And while well-meaning, these responses pained me because of the underlying implication that being trans is something that needs to be "defended against" in the first place.

Because it’s not.

Because it shouldn't be.

Because the correct and only answer to "Why do people think David is trans?" is, "If David is trans (or nonbinary, or genderfluid), why would it matter?"

So thank you again for this, Anon. I hope people will really take in the words you've said and understand why you are saying them. And I hope, as you do, that David is truly, genuinely happy with whatever he feels and decides, regardless of what anyone else thinks.

#anonymous #reply post #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #the assembly #LGBTQ #let people be who they are #because life is too damn short not to #i hope david knows that he is lovely #and deserves good things #and should not have to resign himself to being who everyone else thinks he should be #because whatever has been happening lately is downright painful to witness #grateful to you Anon for sharing this important perspective #thoughts #discourse #gif by me

48 notes · View notes

archive-of-ink · 1 year ago

Text

Want You Back | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Inspired by Want You Back by Maisie Peters

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Over a year ago, Y/n started hunting with the boys. Her and Dean's friendship became more than anything she ever had before. Then he hurt her like never before. The worst part was she didn't really care.

Takes place somewhere in season 6 after Sam got his soul back. Flashbacks are during season five.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing (minimal), canon-level violence, few innuendos, and mentions of things. Reader is kinda sad and desperate. Angst. no happy ending :(

A/N: Hi!! After a year of trying to write a complete fic to post, I finally did it. Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors, I relied on Grammarly lol Also I had no idea how to write the action scenes but tried my best. I really don't know if this is worth much but I had so much fun writing sooo I hope you enjoy it!! (gif not mine)

March 2010

Y/n’s phone buzzed, drawing her attention from the hunter drunkenly blabbering in her ear. They’d just wrapped up a quick hunt, a werewolf somewhere in northern Montana. She didn’t even really know the guy but Bobby had given him her number to ask for help. She agreed, not really having anything more to do. He was fine for a hunter, other than he never shut up and was getting too handsy for her liking, and him being on his fifth drink wasn’t helping.

She opened the message, not recognizing the number. Bobby had to stop handing it out to whoever.

“Hey, Sweetheart. Whatcha up to?”

The phone fell into her lap. There was only one person she ever let get away with calling her that, or anything really, and he didn’t come around often.

“Depends, who is this?”

The response was almost immediate.

“Don’t do me like that, Y/n”

She could almost see his stupid grin on the screen and had to look away to control the heat rising in her face. Within five seconds and two texts, Dean Winchester had turned her into a giggling schoolgirl with a crush.

“I’m at a bar, what do you want?”

“Ah, a girl after my own heart. Which one? I wanna see you.”

In any other universe, she would have assumed he had ulterior motives. She had the first few times she’d received that text but ended up spending the night hiding her disappointment. He only wanted to see her. He’d meet with her wherever she was. A bar, a motel, a diner.

They’d spend hours talking about everything. She’d tell him stories of her recent hunts and the hunters she was stuck helping. He’d tell her of whatever they’d been facing. On rare occasions, when it was super late and they were sprawled on her bed, in a half-drunken stupor, he’d tell her about Sam or their dad. He’d mention their childhood and what he was put through. One night, he even mentioned a girl named Cassie, he skirted around details but Y/n understood.

They’d fall asleep like that, on top of the covers of a dirty motel bed. The next morning, he’d take her to breakfast, hug her goodbye, and then he was gone.

Her phone buzzed in her hand again.

“I miss you.”

Her blood ran cold as she stared at the screen. He’d definitely never said that before. They just never went there and maybe this wasn’t him going there but it was different. Without another thought, she sent him the address.

Present, April 2011

“What Dean did wasn’t ok, you know that right?” Sam said through the phone. “He never should’ve left like that. We just really could use your and Bobby’s help on this case.”

Y/n sighed in response. What could she even say? That she knew, that she understood. That it still didn’t matter because even through all of the anger and hurt, she’d take him back tomorrow.

Not that he’d ever actually been hers. It was only half a spring, barely two months.

It didn’t matter either way. There was a job to be done and she had to do it. She could put her feelings aside for a few days.

“He always left like that, not like I’m surprised.”

“Look, I’ve gotta go but please, Y/n, call us if you need anything. We’ll be there soon.“

“Bye, Sam.”

The call ended, leaving Y/n leaning against the railing of Bobby’s porch. The early spring wind whipped around her and she hugged her flannel closer, looking out onto the empty road.

It had been over a year since she’d seen either of them. She knew of everything that happened to them. Sam going to hell and coming back without a soul. Dean, living a normal life for over a year with a woman and her kid.

Y/n didn’t know her, only hearing about the situation from Sam and Bobby in passing. She knew her name was Lisa and that Dean cared for her. Maybe more. She knew that Dean had promised Sam to live a normal life after he jumped into the cage. And she was happy that he got a year of peace. She was.

She could picture him helping in the kitchen, wearing an apron with flour smeared across his face. He’d probably set up family movie nights and weekend outings and birthday dinners. He’d been happy and okay. Against all odds, he had gotten out.

That didn’t stop the wave of hurt that washed over at the thought of him, all domestic and soft.

The click of the door opening pulled her out of her thoughts. Bobby stood there, a knowing look on his face.

“C’mon kid, let’s see if we can figure out something before those boys get here.”

A few hours later, Y/n stared at the book in her lap. She’d been rereading the same paragraph for thirty minutes. Every time she’d get drawn into the book, the house would creak or the wind would blow and she’d be snapped out of it.

She kept waiting for the door to open, for footsteps to trail down the foyer and into the living room. She couldn’t even begin to prepare for what the next few days were going to be like. Her only plan was to act as normal as possible, which was already proving to be difficult.

A pit formed in her stomach, there was a lump in her throat and her head was clouded. The whole room was hazy and it felt like she was watching herself exist.

She didn’t even realize she was crying until something wet hit her hands and slid onto her jeans. She quickly wiped her eyes and tried to focus on the book again. The lines blurred together as more tears filled her eyes.

God, she was sitting here crying over some guy. She was a grown woman, she had to get over this. It was pathetic at this point.

“You know, what Dean did was wrong. Leaving like that, not telling you what happening.” Bobby said, walking into the room, a stack of books in his hands. “I love the kid but he’s a real dick sometimes.”

He meant well but she swore if one more person said that Dean had done bad, she was going to go crazy.

She knew that. More than anyone, she knew. She was the one who spent months hunting with him, helping him and Sam figure out how to save the damn world. They’d spent nights wrapped up in each other, more than ever before. Farther than before.

She was the one who woke up to an empty bed with no trace of him anywhere. He never responded to a call or a text. Never even let her know he was alive.

He’d left like an assassin.

Part of her couldn’t even blame him. It probably had been for the best because if he’d told her what the plan had been, she’d have begged.

In the end, he’d got to be a coward and she salvaged some amount of self-respect.

“I know, Bobby.” She said, giving him a small smile, “I know.”

The door creaked causing Y/n to jump, earning her a concerned look from Bobby.

She smiled at him again, trying to reassure him. She could tell he’d been worried about her lately. He was justified in it. She’d been on edge and closed off for the last year and a half.

She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She’d known these boys for the better part of her life, it wasn’t a big deal.

Sam rounded the corner first, entering with a slight grin. His eyes immediately found hers and without warning he pulled her off the couch and into his arms.

Y/n let out a surprised laugh as her feet dangled off the ground and the life was squeezed out of her.

“I missed you too, Sam.” She said, unable to hold back more laughter, “Put me down now.”

Her feet hit the floor and Sam stepped back. She looked him over, still smiling.

“I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Yeah, me too.”

A set of footsteps grew louder causing Y/n to look up, only for her to meet two green eyes.

The breath was knocked out of her and she was all too aware of the pit in her stomach again.

Ignoring the pairs of eyes on her, She spun on her heel to face Bobby.

“Let’s get started?”

March 2010

“I call shotgun!” Y/n yelled as they walked out of the diner and took off towards the Impala.

She was probably being unfair. She’d barely shared the passenger side in the few weeks she’d been with the boys. Sam was getting huffy about it, she could tell but she enjoyed the view more from the front. Sitting in the back she’d miss the way Dean’s hands looked gripping the steering wheel, the way his lips moved as he mouthed the lyrics to whatever was on the radio, or the way his eyes would flicker to hers for just a split second.

Dean had also finally let her DJ and she didn’t plan on giving that rare privilege away anytime soon.

“C'mon, dude. It's my turn.” Sam whined, “My legs are starting to cramp.”

Sam beat her to the car which wasn’t surprising since he was literally the size of one. She was close to giving in when an arm landed on her shoulder. Dean nudged Sam out of the way, ignoring his protests, and opened the door.

“Sorry, Sammy.” Dean’s eyes never left hers as she slid into the seat, “Need my Darlin’ by my side.”

Present, April 2011

Cracked wooden planks creaked under Y/n’s feet as she followed the boys and Bobby into the abandoned house. It was pitch black. She blinked her eyes, trying to adapt to the lack of lighting.

According to Sam, a nest of vamps had been holed up there for weeks. They’d started leaving a trail of bodies, teens who’d come through as a dare or curiosity. She didn’t know the exact numbers racked up in that time but it was enough for Sam and Dean to ask for help.

Dean motioned for them to split up, two taking the downstairs and two going up. She went to follow behind Sam who had taken off into the next room but Bobby beat her to it. She would’ve fought back but it wasn’t exactly like she could cause a scene right then.

She followed Dean up the stairs, cringing every time the stairs groaned underneath their feet.

Dean slowed as he hit the final step before a long, dark hallway. Y/n was a step behind him. His body nearly covered her. She shifted to the side to peer around him.

Both raised their machetes, trying to keep their breathing quiet as they waited for any sign of movement.

A crash came from down the hall. Dean started towards the sound, Y/n following close behind. The complete darkness put them on edge. Being minus one sense in a house of at least ten fanged bastards, not fun.

The floorboard creaked behind her causing her to flip around, just in time to dodge the first vampire of the night.

She swung her machete, hitting its arm. Distracted, she brought down the weapon. Its head hit the floor.

Dean yelled out from behind her. She flung herself around to hear him fighting off, what she guessed was three on his own. Her presence seemed to catch the attention of one of them because it charged at her.

She dodged, the vamp lunged again grabbing her by the arm. She twisted out of its grasp. Using the angle to her advantage, she swiped her leg around, knocking it off balance. Its head rolled away as its body hit the ground.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead and turned to try to find Dean. She still couldn’t see him but she could hear him panting a few feet away.

She was yanked forward. Hands gripped her forearms tight enough to leave bruises and slammed into the wall. Her head buzzed on impact and she forced herself to stay upright. Its fangs grazed her neck and then its head dropped to the floor.

Dean stood in front of her, so close she could feel him breathing, rather than hearing it. Without thinking, she reached out to him and landed on his arm. She went to pull away but his other hand grasped her wrist, holding her in place.

“Thanks.” She breathed, “You good?”

“Yeah, You?”

She wished she could see him, make sure he was being truthful. He didn’t exactly have the best track record with honesty. But in the dark, she had no choice but to trust him.

“I’m fine.” There were definitely bruises forming in her arms and her head was still spinning but she’d had worse.

Dean’s hand dropped her wrist. She ignored the deflated feeling in her chest and dropped her arm back to her side.

Without warning, he ran his hands over her arms and up her shoulders. She tried to pull away but he didn’t stop.

“What are you doing?” She whisper-yelled.

“I literally heard you hit the wall, Y/n,” He said, running his hands over her head, checking for any bumps.

“I am fine.” She tried to swat him away but he grabbed her wrists mid-air and pulled them to his chest.

The air was humid around them. She heard him panting. Leather and sweat invaded her senses. Any focus she had before vanished.

He was here, touching her, after so long.

Silence enveloped them. The only noise was their panting.

This was wrong. Sam and Bobby were probably fighting for their life downstairs and here they were, doing whatever this was.

She was about to pull away when a loud yell came from downstairs.

The moment was broken. They took off down the hallway and stairs. Staying close to not get lost in the dark.

They hit the last few steps as a vampire, charged at them.

Dean swung his machete and it fell to the floor.

They moved further into the first floor of the home, finding Sam and Bobby fighting off at least four vamps each.

They split up, him going to Bobby and her going to Sam.

None of the vampires were aware of her yet. She grabbed the syringe of deadman’s blood out of her pocket and plunged the needle into the closet to her.

Now they knew she was there.

Two turned towards her giving Sam time to take down his remaining one.

Both charged at her, hissing. She ran in between them.She flipped around, slicing the blade in an arc. The one on her left doubled over at the impact.

She swung.

The right one lunged at her. She pivoted and cut the blade up.

Its head hit the floor.

She looked around the room, a slight beam of moonlight flooded the house now. She made out Sam helping Bobby up from the floor, right as Dean took down the last vampire.

The room was silent other than everyone trying to catch their breath.

Dean’s eyes found hers. She forced herself to look away. Sam interrupted the non-moment.

“Time for drinks?”

Y/n and the boys decided to go out. They were leaving soon but everyone needed time to wash off and get ready.

She dragged the black liner across her eyelid, double-checking to see if it smeared the shimmery brown eyeshadow she’d already put on. The cracks in the old mirror made it kind of hard to perfect the make-up but it would have to do. She already changed from her bloodied hunting clothes into a clean pair of jeans with a simple tank top. She didn’t own much and traveled with less.

“Broke mirrors are bad luck, ya know?”

Dean leaned against the doorframe, flannel pulled taut around his crossed arms.

She ignored the pit that had reappeared in her stomach and continued applying her lipstick. She flipped through ideas for a response. She could yell at him to get out or cry about how much he hurt her. Instead, she opted to act like nothing was wrong.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who broke it.” She said, shoveling her makeup back into the bag, still never meeting his eye. She stood and gathered the rest of her stuff into a neat pile on her bed. Her back was completely towards him.

She heard him walk into the room and the door clicked shut.

“Y/n, look at me.”

She turned around and looked up at him. Her eyebrows raised like he was boring her. In reality, she was struggling to breathe. Her hands shook and a lump was stuck in her throat.

Her eyes glanced over his face. His jaw was set but eyes were soft. She knew where this was going.

Dean took a deep breath before starting.

“Look, what I did-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Dean Winchester.” She spat.

“I just-”

“No. You don’t get to say anything. You don’t get to say that what you did was wrong or how sorry you are. You don’t think I don’t know that what you did was wrong? Everyone keeps telling me that. Bobby, Sam and now you. They kept telling me how horrible of you that was like it wasn’t me. Like I wasn’t the one who spent months with you, like I didn't help you figure out how to stop the fucking apocalypse. Like I didn’t stitch you up after every hunt or spend every car ride next to you. Like I wasn’t the one who would hold you after you woke up screaming or it wasn’t me who spent every single night in your fucking sheets.”

Every ounce of refrain she’d worked to keep was gone. Hot tears were streaming down her face as her eyes bored into his. He didn’t try to interrupt her but his jaw twitched and body tensed.

“Like it wasn’t me who woke up two months later to an empty bed. You were gone, Dean. You left without a word. No text, no note. Nothing. You fucking left me. And then I found out you were with some other girl for a year? So yeah, I know that what you did was bad.”

Somewhere in her speech, she’d moved close enough for their chest to touch. Her finger was stabbing into his chest. He didn’t move, was barely breathing but she wasn’t finished.

“Maybe it was cheap to you, or maybe it was some fling to pass the time but it was real to me. It was all I had. You were all I had.” Her voice broke at the last word and she dropped her hand. Her head fell as she cried. Over a year of built-up heartbreak exploding in one moment was too much.

His hand found hers and placed it back on his chest. She looked back up at him, his other hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes as his thumb wiped away the remaining tears.

“Do you want to know what the worst part is?” She whispered, eyes still shut. “I’d be yours again if you wanted. If you asked. How pathetic is that?”

“Y/n.”

She opened her eyes to look at him despite her embarrassment.

“You are anything but cheap or pathetic.” His voice was thick and his eyes were glassy. She’d seen him in so many different states but she’d never seen so much emotion written across his face.

“Ask me then. Ask me to come with you.”

His expression darkened and he dropped his hand from her face. He took a step back and looked away.

“It’s not that easy.” He said, shaking his head. “It's never that easy.”

She let out a bitter laugh.

She wasn’t even surprised. She should’ve been disappointed or furious but she was just over it. She was tired and desperate. And if she couldn’t have him, he needed to go.

She wiped a hand down her face and glanced back into the mirror assessing the damage her outburst caused. She started wiping off the messed-up liner before starting to reapply. Dean stood behind her, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Get out.” She said without hesitation, her voice as steady as possible.

He opened his mouth as if to speak but shut it. He walked towards the door but stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

“For what it's worth, I am sorry.”

The buzz of conversation filled the packed-out bar. Sam found them a small booth in the corner and was now talking about a new piece of lore he’d found about some Egyptian god. Most of the time, she loved hearing what he had to say but right now all she could focus on was Dean's hand trailing up and down the woman’s hip. He never even sat down with them, finding himself a spot at the bar, next to a pretty blonde. She’d watched for half an hour now as he grinned at the girl, whispered in her ear, and bought her a drink.

She wanted to puke or cry or both. She decided to get drunk instead.

She went to take a sip of her beer only to realize it was empty. Motioning to Sam she was going to get another, she slid out of the booth and made her way to the opposite side of the bar from Dean.

She planned to order a shot of some vodka and another beer but she couldn’t catch the attention of either bartender.

A body bumped up against hers causing her to stumble. A hand wrapped around her waist to catch her. She almost jerked away but she looked up to find a familiarly unfamiliar pair of dark green eyes and dark blonde hair.

The man was by far the prettiest she’d seen all night.

“I am so sorry, It's packed in here. Isn’t it? Nowhere to stand.” He had a slight southern drawl and a boyish charm about him.

“It is. Can’t seem to even order a drink.” She smiled at him.

“You see, now that had to be fate or something because I was just wantin’ to buy you one.” He grinned and waited, almost seeing if she’d allow it. His hand was still on her but she found she didn’t really mind.

The room was fuzzy and she could only make out the man in front of her. Even then, he was a little hazy and she had no idea what he was saying, only that his mouth looked pretty as he said it.

Y/n didn’t know how long it’d been since the handsome stranger volunteered to feed into her night of drunkenness or even how many she’d had so far. She vaguely remembered him buying her the first shot and then the second and maybe a third. They made small talk, she gave some bullshit story about what she did for work and where she was from. Somewhere in between she had a fourth, fifth, and sixth one.

And somewhere between the seventh and now, she’d lost track of Dean. She didn’t even know if he was still there. She did know that the new guy made her feel ok, at least for now. His hands never left her and the drinks never seemed to end.

She could barely remember the events of the day. Maybe by tomorrow, she wouldn’t remember any of it, or at least a girl could hope.

But right now, she didn’t feel like crying or throwing up as long as she didn’t think of it.

She decided in her drunken haze that maybe this was what she needed. So when the stranger asked her if she wanted to leave, she agreed. And when he leaned down to kiss her, she let him.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester songfic #dean winchester

249 notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 2 years ago

Text

our spot, 2 * ls2

it’s about two weeks since you last saw logan and you find him sitting all alone in the dark

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader

warnings: logan is the warning idk

notes: i know it took me forever to write this subpar ass second part but like- i kinda like it because i'm bad with resolutions and making up (i'm single)

also i'd like to have a word with whoever made this gif because it's like so disrespectful like he is so fine why would u do this?

(f1 masterlist)

(prev)

“you’re growing up too fast,” your mother had said to you earlier after you finished packing the last of your boxes. the boxes that would be sent off to new york in a couple of days before you head out right before new year’s.

thankfully, your family agreed on flying over with you to spend the holiday with you. you had spent weeks and months rethinking the choice of your relocation; if you could handle being away from your family.

your father insisted you explore the world without them by your side and you took up the offer. you'd broken up with the guy you were seeing a couple of days ago.

while you had your doubts about where your relationship was going, there was no denying the amount of time you'd spent together. it still stung you quite a little bit to up and leave him. he had asked you if there was any way to make it work, but you couldn't get yourself to say anything.

so, he pulled you in for a hug and wished you well. and then you left, tearing up very slightly on the drive home alone.

it would be nice to start fresh in a new place. your last conversation convincing you to pick up the pieces of yourself and start moving on for real.

though, it seems it would take forever to do that. you hadn’t only lost a romantic connection when you lost logan, but also your best friend.

the first person you called when you crashed your car on the highway when you were 17, the person who stood up to the girl who made fun of you when you were 9, and the only one who knew you better than you knew yourself.

so here you are at 3 in the morning walking the quiet streets of your small town with your hands in the pockets of your sweater. you try to stifle the sniffle that escapes you, having spent the past couple of hours in tears at the thought of leaving behind everything you’ve ever known.

packing up and spending months in new york, then indefinitely in germany made you a nervous wreck. though the company you’re working for has arranged everything for you from the airport pickup to the apartment estate you’ll be spending your days in.

when you left your house, you glanced across the street to disappointment. logan’s truck isn’t parked on the street and his room had its blinds drawn — the way it’s been since you last saw him.

when you first got the promotion, you almost picked up your phone to text logan. but the heavy weight of guilt made you hit erase and put your phone down after a second.

even when you had graduated about 6 months after cutting contact, you wanted so bad to send him a photo of you and your degree together. but, there was something so embarrassing about reaching out and starting a conversation like nothing had happened.

you posted it on your instagram stories, reposting every single tagged picture for days after to hopefully prompt a message of congratulations from logan. but he didn’t bite.

it made you wonder if you’ve truly made a mistake suddenly cutting him off.

you sigh, making a sharp turn after you pass the school. there’s a dark figure up ahead on the playground that makes you question if it’s a mistake that you’ve come here so late at night.

but it’s a relatively safe gated community. you press your lips together as you approach, your breath hitching in your throat when you’re finally able to make out the man sitting at the end of the slide.

“fancy seeing you here,” logan mumbles, throwing the pieces of rubber from the playground floor into the ground. “it’s late.”

“yeah, i just finished packing,” you answer under your breath, passing him to sit at the edge of another slide. “just needed to do some thinking. didn’t expect you’d be here.”

logan grins to himself with a soft chuckle. “yeah, i’m sorry for intruding.”

you hadn’t been here since you last asked him to come here and see you. in fact, prior to that meetup, you’d only been here a total of 5 times since you last talked.

it reminded you too much of the memories you shared with him growing up.

you lie back in the comfort of the slide. “don’t worry about it. i don’t come here often,” you smile to yourself as you confess. "not anymore."

"i can tell," logan mutters. "i've been here every night since you texted me."

"oh." you take a deep breath, not knowing if you'd like the answer to your question. "what for?"

"thinking real hard," he says just barely above a whisper. he turns to you with a small smile. "i was thinking about you. and germany... and how close it is to me."

your breath hitches. you won't admit to him, but you accepted the offer to move to germany to at least be remotely close to him. or to at least convince him to give your relationship a shot.

you've been apart for years. the only way you got to spend time together back then was if you'd make the effort to visit him in the uk, or if he had the time to fly back home. it was difficult to keep finding ways to make the relationship last.

you had to pretend for a while that you never had to end it. but you knew in your heart two years ago that it cannot keep going on like this. you cried and cried every single time at the airport when he would have to leave you behind in this small town.

you knew his mother mentioned to him about the guy you were seeing. because your mother came to you asking questions about the mysterious guy you never even told her about.

every night after that, you thought about calling logan to explain yourself; that it's not what he thinks it is. but were you really in the position where you had to explain yourself?

"i do love you," he says, picking at the rubber grit once more to avoid your stare. "but the long-distance... barely seeing each other for months on end... it was hard. i couldn't give you what a normal guy would. i couldn't keep making you wait around for nothing."

"but that's not up to you to decide," you say slowly, hoping that he would understand where you came from. "it's unfair. i was willing to go through all of that with you. we've been through so much together."

"i didn't want to risk losing you over something like that," logan sighs, looking up at you in despair. there's a sadness in his eyes that you've never seen before. "it was lonely without you. you're my best friend - losing you over something different entirely was devastating. i didn't have anybody else."

you shake your head, unsure of what to say to him. it was lonely for you when you cut him off. you went from communicating everyday to only catching glimpses of his life on tv, instagram and media news sites.

every single achievement you had, you thought about calling him and hearing his proud voice. but you couldn't fully back yourself on the fact that you broke your own heart because he wanted to keep you around.

"i thought of you every single day," logan says. "i'm sorry. i know you've got a boyfriend and i'm sure he's great, but-"

"i told you," you laugh dryly, throwing your head back. "if you just tell me right now... i'll be all yours."

"but i can't do that to somebody else," logan frowns with a shake of his head. he's contemplated a lot over the past couple of days. how appealing your proposal sounds to him, but the fact that you're still seeing somebody has been making him hesitate. "you know what that means."

you press your lips together. logan's always made sure that he was as morally right as much as he could with his decisions. you sigh, a small hesitant smile stretching your lips. "we broke up."

"what?"

"i broke up with him a couple days ago," you whisper, dropping your eyes to avoid his questioning stare. "i just wanted to go to germany with a fresh start."

logan doesn't say anything immediately. and you don't follow up your confession with anything either. so you look up into the sky as you sway your feet left and right as you try to count the stars that illuminate the night sky. your heart pounds in your chest as you anticipate what he will say next.

and you know he's still there, thinking hard because you can still see his shadow against the playground flooring.

"stay the night," he says softly.

you sit up, both of your hands gripping the sides of the slide as you turn to look at him. "what did you just say?"

"come home with me and then let's talk about it," logan smiles, though he still looks just as tired as before. "let's figure it out, you and me; germany. let me make this right."

"you idiot," you laugh, tears falling out of your eyes again as you have another outburst. "logan."

"wait, why are you crying?" his voice is soft and laced with shock, hands held out towards your body. "i thought this was what you wanted? did i cross a line? i'm sorry."

"no, i just," you cry, wiping the tears from your face. "god, i just missed you so much. i'm sorry. it's not you."

he's now gotten up from his seat. he's knelt down next to the slide you're sitting in, trying to reach out and touch your arm. "i'm sorry. i'm sorry it took me this long." his thumbs swipe over your cheeks, wiping away your tears. "please don't cry anymore."

@thatgirlmj @lfm98 @gentlyweeps-world @ladywhistledownx @charli123456789 @lightdragonrayne @k-pevensie28 @angsthology

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x fem!reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 x y/n #logan sargeant x y/n #formula 1 #formula 1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant fanfiction #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

275 notes · View notes

thecreelhouse · 1 year ago

Text

accident prone

part two - I laugh often, so, I suppose, I’m gonna be fine

Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!OC - Francesca “Frankie” Amato

Summary: Steve and Frankie really get to know one another, and the friendship blossoms quickly. So fast, Steve can’t keep up with his own feelings, even in the face of an emergency.

WC: 8.6k+

Includes: angst, hurt/comfort (like, a lot), internalized ableism, language, PTSD, revolving around Hawkins/the Upside Down, discussions of chronic pain/illness and disabilities, a teensy bit of fluff and flirting if you squint, medical emergencies, etc.

series playlist ⋮ masterlist

here, here and here - meg & dia

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

“I’m a wanderer now, sorrow befalls me / I laugh often so, I suppose, I’m gonna be fine”

A/N: hey there! Wow. I didn’t think this would really gain any attention— this fandom seems to hate OCs (y’all’s loss tbh), but the support I got on the last chapter, though small to some major blogs, means a fuck ton to me. I don’t want to tag everyone, but thank you to whoever sent me a kind message or pep talk after posting the first part— I really am glad this is relating to others with chronic health concerns, one way or another. Even if it relates to one person, it means more than meaningless notes. Also, may 12th is Fibromyalgia Awareness Day! So, consider this my contribution lol. As previously stated, for anyone with fibro, or without, but living with a chronic illness/condition, mental and/or physical, I am sending all my love, and this is for you <3

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The next morning, Steve’s up early; if he can’t push past the pain, he’ll try working with it. He refuses to let the opportunity to get to know Frankie slip away.

And the opportunity for a possible job. That’s important, too. Just… not right at this very moment.

What the hell do I wear?

He glances at the pair of glasses he’s been neglecting lately, just annoyed he needs yet another tool of assistance to help him function; his vision blurs easily these days, especially with migraines. And while it’s not severe, he’s been warned to wear the glasses to prevent further deterioration of his vision.

To Steve, it’s another reminder of how broken he feels. If this was about anyone else, he wouldn’t feel that way, but when it comes to himself, the internal ableism never ends.

Just like the day before, everything hurts terribly. It’s one of those days where even certain fabrics and elastics add to the widespread ache, and it’s not like he has to dress up, but he doesn’t want to just show up in sweats, either.

At least I don’t have to wear that ugly, stiff uniform anymore.

He opts for a well-worn, loose cardigan with a pair of jeans that he ripped at the knee years ago; the tear is conveniently over his bad knee, making it easier to wear the brace he has on his bad joint days. And today, he really needs it.

Steve also needs a boost of confidence and a way to shake his nerves; the thought of seeing Frankie again and possibly getting another job have him on edge.

Too bad there’s no medical device to assist him on that one.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Noticing the ‘CLOSED’ sign on the door of the record shop, Steve hesitates, realizing he should’ve asked Frankie about the hours; a tiny note taped to the bottom of the sign catches his eye. “Unless your name is Steve,” is scribbled in disheveled handwriting, with a small smiley face drawn at the end.

Entering the record shop, he first sees Frankie, sitting criss-crossed on the checkout counter; her cane is laid over her lap while she’s meticulously applying stickers to the aluminum. The door’s chime goes off, and her head pops up, immediately breaking into the warm smile Steve had thought about since the last time they spoke.

“Steve!” There’s an urge within her to hop off the counter and greet him with a hug, but she holds back, reminding herself that they’re barely even friends. “Hi,” She opts for a wave instead, eyes falling to the coffees, one in each hand.

He shyly nods with a sweet smile, all bundled up in layers most folks would consider unnecessary. For him and his temperature intolerance, the obnoxious amount of warmth is very necessary.

“Hi, Frankie,” He hands her coffee over to her, in all its icy, sugary sprinkled glory. She takes it, eyes crinkling as she smiles wide. Steve can’t help teasing, “Cade’s right, you really are sick for liking iced coffee in the winter.”

Her smile flips into a comical frown before snarking, “He’s never getting that damn tape now.”

“The one about dinosaurs?”

Frankie snorts just as she takes a sip of her coffee, covering her face with her sweater bundled arm.

“Robin told me you’d say something like that.”

“… So it’s not about—“

“Steve, it’s the name of a band,” She giggles, moving her arm away from her face. Steve notices the way her sleeves cascade over her hands completely; the sweater she’s in is way too big, but with that and her flowing skirt, she looks comfortable, and warm.

“Right. I knew that!” He tries playing it off with a shrug, “They’re great.”

“You’ve never listened to them before have you?”

He laughs at the knowing smirk Frankie gives him, shaking his head, “Yeah, no, not at all.” If this was high school, he’d be trying to save face right now, to look cool, pretend he knew what he was talking about. Mid-twenties Steve is able to let it roll off his back, poke fun at himself, move on.

Plus, Steve knows this interaction wouldn’t happen at all in high school. Labels and useless popularity would keep them far, far apart. He’s alright with that; Frankie definitely didn’t need someone like ‘King Steve’ and his bullshit to deal with.

“Okay. What about Jawbreaker?”

“… The candy?”

Frankie giggles, shaking her head, before running down a list of bands off the top of her head; The Cure, Joy Division, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Strawberry Switchblade, Sonic Youth, Nirvana, the list went on. Steve says most he’s heard of, but never listened to. Some, he’s heard some of their singles on the radio.

“You’re into all that… punk stuff, right?” He’s a little lost, but he’s headed in the right direction. Frankie doesn’t tease him for it, though.

“To an embarrassing degree,” She smiles, crinkling her nose, and oh, god, Steve’s not expecting the way that sets off butterflies in his stomach. “And new wave, grunge, honestly some pop, too— oh! Dolly Parton! Just her, though, can’t get into any other country otherwise. I’m a mess when it comes to music interests.” She shrugs.

He shakes his head, shrugging his jacket off before unwinding his scarf; Frankie catches on immediately, pointing to the coat rack behind the counter.

“No… it suits you.”

“Is that an insult or a compliment?”

“O- oh, no, I meant that in a— it’s a— nice way, promise!” Frankie smirks as he stumbles over his words. “So… got any recommendations on what to start with?”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Steve. I’m gonna make you a mixtape later.” No pretentious undertone can be found in her words; Frankie’s just really excited to introduce someone to music they haven’t heard. “What do you listen to, then?”

Steve sits on the stool behind the counter while Frankie still hangs out on the countertop, kicking her legs over the side now. He watches as she continues sticker-bombing her cane; it’s got quite the variety of holographic stars sprinkled about.

“Uh…” He shrugs, tugging at the edges of his sleeves before shoving them in the pockets of his cardigan. “Whatever sounds good, I guess.”

Frankie narrows her eyes at him, “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

Steve nervously laughs as a hint of red creeps across his face.

“Okay, uh… Queen, Springsteen, some of Bowie’s stuff—“

“Some?”

“I just- I can’t get into it all!” He stammers out. Frankie dramatically sighs, throwing her head back with a hand over her forehead, pretending like she’ll faint. When she levels her gaze to him again, she gives a teasing smirk, and he carries on, red in the face. “I like U2’s last album… uh, shit. What’s it called?”

“Achtung Baby?” She’s so quick to answer in a nonchalant tone, like this is common knowledge.

“Yeah! That one.”

“Oh, you’d really get along with my dad, then,” She teases, watching Steve’s expression flatten in a playful annoyance. “That’s not a bad thing! Bring it up in your next appointment— actually, don’t. He’ll talk about it for hours.”

Steve laughs, pushing his glasses up his nose with his pointer finger, “Alright, I’ll try to remember that.”

“Might want to write a reminder with the brain fog,” She quips, and it easily earns a chuckle; if anyone else tried to joke about his symptoms, he’d be bothered. To laugh it off with someone else equally as sick as him, though, is weirdly… cathartic. “Sorry, I’m distracting you. Go on.”

“Okay, don’t make fun of me, but Blondie’s got some good stuff, too.”

“Yes!” Frankie throws her hands out excitedly. Steve admires how animated she can be.

“I like a lot of other stuff,” He’s becoming more comfortable talking about this, not as afraid of rejection. Frankie didn’t give that kind of attitude off, but he second guesses himself always these days. “But it’s just singles and stuff.”

“Gimme a list one of these days, I’ll give you some recs.” She looks up from her sticker work on her cane, warmly smiling, but it falters seconds later. “Not pushing that on you, but it might— you don’t— don’t be afraid to tell me no—“

“Frankie.” Her name comes out of Steve’s mouth like the night before, a combination of reassurance and teasing. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

Dusting over her cheeks is a tint of rosy pink as her smile returns, ever so slightly. “Okay, cool.” She plucks a star sticker off the page, leaning towards Steve to stick it on his forehead. Her touch makes Steve’s heartbeat quicken, but it’s over as soon as it began. “Congrats, Steve, you’re hired.”

Brows furrowing, he doesn’t bother to remove the sticker. “What? Seriously? That was the interview?”

Frankie nods enthusiastically. “You already seemed nice, and got a good review from your best friend—“

“Seriously, what did she tell you?”

She pretends to zip her lips shut and shrugs, holding back giggles.

“I’ll get you all that boring ass paperwork later, but yeah, I’m serious.” She holds her cane out, rolling it in her hands to make sure the stars are placed the way she wants. Her tongue pokes out while she’s focused, and Steve thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world. Directing her attention back to him, she continues, “I don’t wanna work with someone I just tolerate.”

Though Steve’s flattered to find he’s more than just tolerable to her, he’s still skeptical; not of her, but how this friendship is growing so easily, so suddenly. “Frankie, we barely know each other.”

“I don’t know anyone else my age that’s disabled, and you just… you get it. I wish you didn’t, but you do. If you don’t wanna work here, no hard feelings, but I want to continue getting to know you.” Her words, her tone, even her facial expression, they’re all sincere. “If you’re up for having a new friend, that is.”

Steve nods embarrassingly fast, but he doesn’t care. “My friends get it to an extent, but I don’t have to explain shit to you, and it’s… well, I don’t want to say nice, ‘cause like you said, I wish you didn’t know what this was like, either. But it makes me feel a little less alone, I guess.” His fingers grip the edge of the stool between his legs, arms straight, as he looks away shyly. “And I- I’d like to make you feel a little less alone too— jesus, that makes me sound like a douche. You get what I mean, right?”

“I get you, Steve, don’t worry,” Frankie picks up her coffee, holding it out to Steve. It takes a few seconds, but he catches on, grabbing his own coffee to hold out to her. “To a sick friendship. Get it. Sick? ‘Cause we’re both—“

Steve knocks his cup against hers, smirking, “Yikes, I thought my humor was corny.”

“Fine, no more jokes at all, then.” She deadpans, but her expression immediately cracks, breaking into a laugh, one that scrunches her nose and crinkles the edges of her eyes. It’s contagious, pulling Steve into her fit of laughter, too. “Yeah, I got a good feeling about you, Steve.”

“Huh? Like what?”

“Oh, we’re not that far in the friendship, buddy.” She props her cane onto the floor, sliding off the counter. The proximity between her and Steve when she’s on her feet is a little too close for him to handle, breath hitching in his throat. “Gotta earn the sappy moments, man.”

With that, Frankie rounds the counter, heading towards an aisle of vinyl records. She turns back to him, “Well, you want a tour?”

Steve’s eyes widen as he scrambles off the chair, “Y- yeah, that’d be— I probably need to know where things are.” Frankie resists teasing him further, leading him around the shop.

The pair walk slowly as she points out the main sections, split into three— vinyl records, cassette tapes, and CDs.

“I still can’t get behind ‘em. They’re too flimsy for my clumsy self.” Frankie’s lips curl in a snarl as she eyes up the racks of the shiny discs, tucked away in their jewel cases.

“At least they’re not LaserDiscs,” Steve murmurs, cringing. “I hated those things.”

“Yeah, never was a fan myself,” Her brows crinkle. “They’re like frisbees.”

“But vinyl… isn’t?”

“No. And I’m not elaborating.”

“Francesca, you’re something else.”

She scoffs playfully, “Can’t believe you just called me that. You’re fired.”

“Mhm, sure.” He smirks before glancing around the shop; it’s on the smaller side, but jam-packed with nearly anything and everything music related. Beyond CDs, tapes, and records, are band shirts, Walkmans, headphones, record players, tape players and boomboxes, useless novelty items, and so on. “So, when’d you open the store?”

“Oh, I didn’t. It’s not mine, only running it for now… kinda took over when the owner had to take a sick leave.” Frankie begins leading Steve towards the back, through a worn, beaded curtain. She points to an open door, “Stockroom,” Then, to the door across the hall. “Break room.”

Steve acknowledges her directions with a nod before asking, “Oh, are they okay? Well, wait. Shit. I guess not if they’re on— my bad.”

Frankie gives him a half-smile, more for the sake of reassurance, along with an answer, “Dementia. So, uh, yeah. Probably not coming back.” A pained expression washes over Steve’s features. “The own— Mr. Fisher wanted to close the shop when his health continued declining, so I told him I’d keep it going for him. This was before the diagnosis, he just knew something was wrong and warned me he’d most likely shut down.”

“That’s… fucked.”

“Yeah. He actually lived a few floors up, now he’s in a senior living home.” She wanders into the break room, falling onto the worn couch hanging out in the heavily used space. Steve sits on the opposite side, not wanting to invade her personal space as he listens intently. “Cool dude, hired me years ago, and he was really into jazz when he was younger. Like, used to play the sax for a living. He knew nothing about punk music, but he loved asking me about it. I learned a lot about jazz from him, too.

“He was empathetic with my pain, too. The couch is back here ‘cause he felt bad I had nowhere to rest on break. Then he ended up using it more than I did.” Frankie’s a little dazed as she retells the circumstances. “I knew he’d never get better, and he knew it too, but I told him I’d love to watch over the business until he’s ready to come back. Couldn’t stand watching this place close, so… yeah. S’why I asked you.”

“I’m sorry, Frankie.” It’s all Steve can come up with, but it’s genuine, and she can tell.

“I hope it doesn’t come off like I’m telling you this so you’re guilted into being here, ‘cause if you wanna find another job, don’t feel like you have to st—“

“You do that a lot,” Steve blurts out, but it’s not mean-spirited. He stammers, “N- not that— it’s not bad— sorry—-“

“And you do that a lot,” Frankie observes bluntly. “Guess we’re kinda similar in the whole ‘overly apologetic’ department, huh?”

Steve glances at her, sighing with a hint of a sad smile. “Guess we are.” He rests his head on the back of the couch, blowing air between pursed lips as his eyes fixate on the ceiling. “Anyway, you’re not guilting me. I’m staying.” Then he sits back up, narrowing his stare at her. “Unless I’m still fired.”

She sits up, shoving her hand out towards him. He grabs it as she shakes it obnoxiously, snorting, “Steve Harrington, you’re re-hired.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“Fibro’s just like… a bag of jellybeans.”

Steve scoffs out a laugh, lost on Frankie’s words. “I’m sorry, what?”

At the end of the day, Frankie and Steve wound up at a diner, still caught up in the excitement of getting to know a new friend.

“Y’know, it’s always a mystery over what color and flavor you end up with ‘til you get it.” Frankie begins to explain, hands on the diner’s table; Steve’s noticed she talks with her hands, a lot. She’s always so animated, even talking about the most mundane subjects. “And you might have ‘em all, but there might be more of one flavor, or another. Fibromyalgia is just a bag of symptoms, ‘cause you don’t know what’s gonna hurt that day ‘til it does— does that make sense?”

“Oh, like, I get a lot of headaches, sometimes ocular migraines— the first few times, those freaked me out, and joint pain the most, but the other symptoms still exist, too, just not as frequently.” Steve scrunches his eyes shut with a nod, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Right? Or maybe I’m way off—“

“No, that’s exactly it!”

“That’s actually… a really good analogy,” He tucks the comparison away in his mind, for future use. “Wait, so you also have fibromyalgia?”

Frankie’s about to answer, until the waitress brings their milkshakes and fries to the table. Her smile over something as simple as a milkshake is contagious, and Steve finds himself grinning along with her.

“Yeah, but we found out lupus was a bigger concern,” She shares casually. “Y’know, I wouldn’t wish fibro on anyone, but I’m pissed you have to deal with it.”

Steve’s face distorts into confusion. “Why d’ya say that?”

“It’s such a fucking mess of a disability. Tests come back normal, x-rays show nothing, MRIs are clear, too— shit is so infuriating. You’re living in constant pain and most people don’t believe you. Then ya’ got these fuckin’ misogynistic doctors who see it as a “woman’s disease”— yeah, it’s more prevalent in women, but men get it too, and it’s like y’all are told to just… suck it up. “Man up”. Deal with it.

“Honestly… not sure which sucks to be told more, that you’re just “hysterical and attention seeking” for being sick as a woman, or being told you’re just a “whiny baby” if you’re sick as a man.”

Steve only stares at her; Frankie feels warm under his gaze, sinking into the booth.

“Sorry, I— you’re so spot on, I have nothing to add.” Steve’s shaking his head, fidgeting with his napkin. “But I can’t get over that someone my age fucking gets it.”

Frankie sighs, relieved to hear she wasn’t overdoing it with her rambling.

“Steve, I hate that we’re both in pain, but it’s… it’s nice not having to struggle alone, for once.” She stretches her legs under the booth, resting her boots on the cushion on Steve’s side. He mirrors her, sneakers kicking up to rest next to her. She smiles, nudging his shoe with her elbow. “Copycat.”

“You really lucked out having a dad who’s a doctor,” Steve softly chuckles, and Frankie smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Immediately, he panics he might’ve said the wrong thing. “I- I don’t mean that in a bad way—“

“No, I know you didn’t. He—” Frankie looks off, eyes fixating on the bustling traffic out the window, despite the two of them being seated in the far end of the diner. She looks back to her milkshake, swirling the straw mindlessly. “He wasn’t always a doctor. He wasn’t in the medical field at all, not ‘til I got sick as a kid.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yup. He got tired of taking me to specialists for them to always say I was being overdramatic, or “Oh, she’s a girl, she might just be faking that for attention.” I guess what I was going through made him realize shit had to change for the sake of us sick folks. I don’t know how anyone would be able to juggle a full time job, full time med school, and raising a kid on their own, but he did it. Even if shit is terrible most of the time, I’m grateful to have a dad as incredible as him.”

Steve let Frankie’s words sink in before curiosity took its hold, “He’s a single parent?”

Frankie sips from her milkshake, looking back at Steve as she sits back. “Wasn’t always, but yeah. Never met my mom, she, uh, she was sick, too. Cancer. Passed before my first birthday.”

“Jesus, Frankie… I’m so sorry.”

She shrugs, trying to let the everlasting sting roll off her back. “I heard she was really sweet, and funny. My dad showed me some home movies a few years back, and it was the first time I heard her voice. She was so pretty, and happy, and—“ She shakes her head, scoffing at herself. “God, I’m sorry for rambling.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. If you ever wanna talk about this… or anything, I might not know what to say, but I’ll always listen.”

“Right back at ya’, Steve,” She murmurs, gaze friendly before sipping her milkshake.

“I don’t think you want to know my story,” He tries shrugging it off, as if a chuckle would follow, but never does.

“I do, and I mean that.” She firmly states, locking eyes with him. “But only when you’re comfortable sharing it.”

Steve nods, “Yeah. Maybe someday. Kinda hard to even talk to my therapist still about it.”

“You’ll get there eventually. On your own terms.” Frankie can tell he’s uncomfortable, searching for a change of subject. She looks back at his legs, still next to her in the booth. “Isn’t your leg cold?” She nods to the hole in his jeans, right above his knee.

“Yeah, but I needed to wear my knee brace today.”

“I can sew loose, stretchy fabric in, and snaps to remove it, if that helps,” She slurps down the last of the milkshake. “You cool with hanging out longer?”

Steve can’t suppress the grin that graces his face.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

Frankie’s apartment is in a repurposed warehouse; a large studio, cluttered with art supplies scattered all about. An easel hangs out in the wide open room near a window, with canvasses, both finished and unfinished everywhere surrounding it. Cups and cups of paintbrushes, tubes of paint, pastels, graphite pencils and drawing pads strewn atop nearly every surface. A sewing machine rested snug in a corner of the open room.

Among it all was the kitchen and living room; down a hallway were the doors to the bathroom, and her bedroom.

After Steve changes into the sweats Frankie found for him, he enters the main room, holding the sweatpants up by the waistband awkwardly, handing his pair of jeans over to her.

“Sorry, I knew they’d be kinda big, but not that much.” She has jersey knit fabric already cut, sewing snaps to the edges. As she works, she elaborates, “I keep a buncha sizes in clothes, ‘cause my weight fluctuates all the time with flare ups.”

“That’s actually… really smart.”

“Yeah, I got tired of buying and donating the same several sizes over and over. Just easier, and cheaper, to keep ‘em all on hand.” Frankie’s zoned into the impromptu project, so Steve wanders around her apartment, stopping at the kitchen table, blanketed with multiple sketches.

“I didn’t know you could draw.” He wonders aloud, glancing over the sketch pad papers. There’s a certain style he can’t quite put his finger on with her work; for plain subjects and ideas, they’re incredible.

Steve turns to the easel with her latest work in progress. It’s a portrait of a woman weeping, holding a mask of her face that’s smiling over her real expression. It’s gorgeous work, but he feels a pang in his chest, wondering if Frankie feels this way more often than not.

“Holy shit, Frankie…” He breathes, recognizing his own struggles through the piece; how often he feels as if he needs to bury his own pain to keep everyone else comfortable. Then again, who hasn’t felt at one point or another they need to cover up how they truly feel?

“I hope that’s a good “holy shit”,” She responds as she continues sewing.

“Your work is amazing,” He’s still staring at the painting, admiring how her art style is slightly unkempt, and leans toward traditional tattoo-style art, but she makes it work somehow; some of the paint bleeds outside the lines, or speckles in random splotches, like watercolors, but it adds character. “Do you just paint as a hobby?”

“I actually had plans to become a tattoo artist, did an apprenticeship and everything,” She murmurs, loud enough for him to hear, but still weighed down with disappointment. She pulls the denim away from the sewing machine, trimming away the loose threads. “Can’t really tattoo when you’ve got unpredictable hand tremors, though. S’why the paintings are such a wreck.”

Oh.

“Shit. That’s…” Again, Steve can’t find proper words of empathy. “I’m sorry.”

Frankie finally glances over her shoulder at him, “Kinda normal for folks like us to leave behind our dreams. Mourn what our lives could’ve been, and what they used to be.”

The familiarity of surrender in her voice hits Steve hard. He might not have had the same dreams to give up to prioritize his health, but it’s still an experience similar to hers. Giving up any dreams or goals he had to accept they probably wouldn’t, couldn’t, come to life. He’s watched his life’s potential slip through his fingers, and has no way of stopping it from vanishing completely.

Mourning what your life was isn’t easy, either. Reminiscing on better health in earlier times of your existence, proof you’ll never be that happy, that healthy again— even if Steve was unhappy deep down in high school, he wishes he had the energy to still fake it.

“Yeah. Fucking sucks.” He mutters. At the same time, Frankie turns to him, holding his jeans out for him to take.

Steve glances over her handiwork, grateful to have soft fabric that’ll finally work with his knee brace, while being removable when it’s too warm out.

“On the bright side, at least you’ve got a friend who gets it now.” She’s speaking softly, with so much, too much, understanding. It helps to finally have a friend who can relate, but with that comes sharing the same emotional hardships, ones that feel endless.

Still, it’s better than navigating that all on your own.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

It’s been a handful of weeks— maybe about a month and change— since Steve’s life began to feel good again. He’s not sure how long exactly, he just knows since finding a doctor that sincerely cared for his patients, and befriending Frankie, someone his age he could finally relate to, he doesn’t care to keep track of time like a dismal countdown.

He’s not counting the days he feels like a prisoner in his own body anymore.

Timing, though, is always perfectly unfortunate when it comes to Steve’s luck, and life.

On a dull Wednesday night, he and Frankie are closing up the shop before their plans to meet up with Robin at the diner. Steve has had a muted ache in his head since the previous night, but it wasn’t enough to keep him in bed, thankfully. He took some Tylenol earlier in the day, and that helped with staving off most of the pain. Any relief he can find, he happily takes.

The sun isn’t setting as early anymore, a sign winter’s almost at its end; he’s been looking forward to spring, because this cold has done no favors to his aching joints. Until then, he’s still bundling up ridiculously to keep from violently shaking in the cold.

“Hey, Frankie?” He’s looking behind the counter, puzzled. His head feels heavy, thoughts settling in a thick fog. Pushing past it, he asks, “Have you seen my scarf?”

Frankie returns from the tiny stockroom, keys swinging lazily on her finger. “Is it the blue one?”

“No, it’s—“ Steve pauses, hands on the counter to hold himself up from a sudden bout of dizziness. He gives a weak laugh, “I can’t even remember if I wore one at all. Maybe I didn’t.”

Frankie’s quick to notice something’s not right when Steve practically white knuckles the edge of the counter; her firsthand experience with chronic illness is setting off alarms in her head.

“Steve, you should sit down—“ She rushes around to him, pushing the stool towards him. Grabbing his shoulders, she pushes him gently into the chair. “What’s going on?”

“S’blurry,” Is all he mutters to her. She lifts a hand to his forehead, and he shivers, speaking up a bit more, “You’re always cold.”

She keeps her panic to herself, and rolls her eyes with a tiny smile, pulling her hand away to reach into her bag on the floor; straightening back up with a heavily sticker-bombed water bottle, she hands it to him.

“When’d you last eat?”

Steve shrugs, weakly sipping out of the bottle. “Uh, a few hours ago, I think.” He’s struggling to stay in conversation as the vision in his one eye blurs. “Frankie, I can’t see shit out of this eye.” He points to the right side of his face, hand nearly limp.

“Does your head hurt?”

“Been hurting all day, actually,” He waves his hand in front of his own face, repeating, “Yeah I- I can’t see a damn thing out of this eye.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Wasn’t a big deal ‘til now— shit—“ Steve clutches his head; everything’s too overwhelming. The lights are too bright, the buzz of electricity is too loud, and he feels nauseous. The dizziness is only growing stronger, too. Curling into himself, he doubles over, head in his hands as he leans towards his legs. “God, I hate this.”

Frankie rushes to the light switch across the room, turning off all the lights inside; the only light available is what wanders in from the city outside through the windows.

There was one crucial detail Steve left out when he confided in Frankie about his ocular migraines: the pain is so intense, it works in tandem with his anxiety, triggering flashbacks of those miserable last few years in Hawkins.

They roll through so quickly in his mind; the first time he fought off a demogorgon with Nancy and Jonathan. When Steve became a personal punching bag for Billy nearly one year later, the same night he had been roped into fighting off demodogs with the kids, nearly dying multiple times before the sun rose again. The fucked up elevator in Starcourt that plummeted to an artificial hell that also nearly killed him and his friends. He could picture the fists flying at him, his honest answers for the countless times he was asked “who do you work for?” never enough for his captors.

“Stop, stop, stop—“

Frankie hears Steve whimpering while his flashbacks drag him deeper into the past.

Because who can just forget nearly dying far too many times with your friends before turning twenty? Why forget it when the past just continues to help you survive even further carnage?

His lungs burn while he recalls swimming down to the bottom of the lake, in search of the gate, only to be pulled back down after resurfacing to his friends. It’s not easy to erase the way he fought for his life once dragged into the Upside Down, especially not when the scars refuse to fade, continuing to keep the nightmare alive. Even if his scars blended into his worn, tired skin now, the proof lies in each and every person in the group. Hell, the proof is in anyone from Hawkins.

“Steve—“ Frankie’s voice breaks through to him, only for a moment, too quick to pull him out of this traumatic loop of memories.

Vecna. Stumbling upon Eddie, nearly dead, in Dustin’s arms. The “earthquake”. Max deep in a coma in the hospital. Watching the Upside Down bleed into reality on this plane of existence. The ultimate downfall of what was once his hometown— once a haven of memories, good and bad, ones that taught him life lessons, ones that he still reminisces on to this day. Leaving behind everything he loved in that shitty little town. Goodbyes with everyone as they all split their separate ways, with hopes and dreams of making the most of a new life somewhere safe.

Hawkins, Indiana was wiped off the map. Wiped from existence to keep the rest of the world safe.

Hawkins was only a memory, now.

Hawkins was gone.

“Hi, y- yeah, we need an ambulance, my friend, h- he—“

Everyone made it out alive, but what was the point when everyone was hurting badly, one way or another?

What’s the point in surviving if you continue to live in your own personal hell? He thinks, barely making out Frankie reciting the address for the record store. He blindly reaches out for her, still folded over in agony.

Instead of finding her, he finds himself slipping off the chair, hitting the cold, hard floor before abruptly losing his grip on reality.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The first thing Steve sees when his eyes weakly flutter open is Frankie. Everything is blurry, but not like before; his vision slowly comes into focus, while the edges of tunnel vision have faded away. A dim, frail smile appears on his face at her sleeping figure, curled up next to him.

Pressure in his head spreads, like there’s an ache about to begin, but it never does, held at bay. That’s when he notices the IV in his arm, prying his eyes open a little more, baffled and trying to sift through the brain fog.

Frankie stirs, eyes squinting open, but once she sees Steve’s awake, her eyes widen; she sits up too quickly, stumbling out of the chair she folded herself into, catching herself at the last minute.

“Steve—“

“Hi Frankie,” He smiles, dopey and sleepy, like he just woke up from a nap, and not a medical scare. She grabs his hand, and he blushes. Looking down at their hands clasped together, a dazed look covers his features. “Your hand’s not very cold. You okay?”

A laugh slips out of Frankie, “I think all the panic made me overheated.” Her bottom lip wobbles, despite Steve’s lips still curved up lazily, “You’re the one in the hospital bed, I should be asking you that.”

“M’fine, I feel great, actually.”

“That would be the drugs doing their job, buddy.” She’s surprised to hear herself giggle, but it rises a weak yet genuine laugh out of Steve. Her thumb softly swipes back and forth on his hand, still in hers. “You scared the hell outta me, Steve.”

His face drops, beginning to realize the severity of the situation, despite gaps of memory to recall on. “I… don’t remember anything.”

“Do you want me to tell you?”

He wordlessly nods.

“Your head hurt all day, but you didn’t tell me until a migraine started,” Frankie sighs, gently pushing his sweat-matted hair away from his eyes. “I think it was an ocular migraine, ‘cause you told me you couldn’t— well, in your exact words, you said “Frankie, I can’t see shit out of this eye”, and then it— you—”

It all floods back to Steve in a flash— his headache that rolled into a sudden, ocular migraine, making him dizzy and weak. How his right eye went blind, then everything hurt, sent him into a panic, and triggered the flashbacks.

“You fell, too, but thankfully you landed on my bag instead of the floor.” She reaches down to his forehead, just above his brow, gently sweeping a thumb across his skin. “There’s a small bruise, but could’ve been worse.”

That, he ignores. Instead, Steve’s heart drops at the thought of what Frankie might’ve heard or seen. Before he can ask, she gathers the courage to tell him.

“You were crying, saying ‘I wanna go home’ a- and ‘stop, stop, stop,’” Her fingers grip his hand, shaking. He squeezes back, sobering up fast from the pain medication. “You kept calling out names, calling for Robin, and I- I don’t know who else, but you sounded so hurt, Steve.”

Steve doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Frankie whispers, “oh” and grabs a handful of tissues from the side table, handing them over to him.

“I— goddammit. I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

“It’s okay—“

He shakes his head, eyes falling shut; he can’t look at her right now, he feels nothing but shame.

“It’s not. It never will be. I wasn’t trying to hide anything or lie, but I- I- I—“ In the midst of his panic, he remembers the plans they had with Robin. His bloodshot eyes lock with Frankie’s teary ones. “Shit, does Robin know—“

“She’s on her way. Thankfully she stopped by instead of meeting us at the diner, right when the ambulance came. I asked if Robin wanted to go with you, but she asked if I could instead; she wanted to grab your meds and a few other things.” Frankie reassures him, but Steve can’t shake the guilt, can’t escape the embarrassment. “Robin’s really a great best friend.”

Steve rubs his eyes, nodding as his voice wavers, “Best friend I ever had. I- I’d be dead without her.”

“Give yourself some credit, man.” A familiar voice floats into the room; Frankie and Steve both look across the hospital room to find Robin, along with Eddie and Dustin trailing in behind her.

“It’s definitely that charming stubbornness to survive y’got going on,” Robin teases lightheartedly.

Frankie looks back at Steve, finding his face about to light up, but he just falls apart again. She releases his hand so Robin can hug him. Steve shakes in her grasp, while Robin murmurs “you’re okay, you’re safe”, soft enough for only Steve to hear; Frankie’s still able to catch it, though.

“Wh— what are you two doing here?”

“You picked the best time to go to the ER,” Dustin grins, trying to point out the bright side. “We were gonna surprise you at the diner, but now we get to surprise you here!” Steve’s smile wavers; he wants to be happy to see his friends again, but the sudden visit and multiple voices, louder than Frankie, makes him wince, too.

Still, he finds himself asking, “Dustin, why are you excited about that?”

“‘Cause, hospitals suck. Unless Eddie and I are in ‘em.” Dustin looks over at Frankie with a questioning, yet friendly look. “Who— oh. Are you Frankie?”

Her cheeks turn rosy while Steve groans, head falling back on the pillow.

Trying to redirect, Eddie teases, “The kid tells no lies, we’re the best free entertainment a hospital can get.” He’s shooting Steve a knowing look that earns a short-lived laugh out of him.

Now Steve knows how Max felt when she woke from her coma, when Eddie was finally stable enough to leave his room next to hers. How him and Dustin did everything they could, said whatever they could say, to crack a smile on her face.

It’s the thought that counts, he thinks, grateful to have friends who care. Steve always felt like everyone would forget him when they all left Hawkins behind. After all, he was usually the one looking out for everyone else. Putting them first. Making sure everyone was safe and sound before himself.

How relieved he was to be wrong, for once.

“How you holding up?” Dustin asks,

“Uh… I…”

All of this is overwhelming; Steve’s still trying to process what happened, was in the middle of Frankie retelling details, and now he’s on an emotional rollercoaster from a surprise visit from two friends he hadn’t seen in god knows how long.

On top of all of that, his head is one loud, startling noise or bright light away from kicking off another migraine.

Robin can tell he’s a step away from falling apart, so she jumps in to give him some breathing room. “I think… we should get snacks from the vending machine. Do either of you want anything?” Frankie shakes her head, and Steve only shrugs without an answer. “We’ll be back, ‘kay?” She backs up, gently pushing the two curly heads out of the room despite their protests; the room falls silent once again.

Steve sighs loudly, eyes shutting as he relaxes into the bed. “I love them, but I— it’s just—“

“Bad timing, I get it. There’s nothing wrong with asking for space.” Frankie assures him, then adds, “I should’ve asked too, do you need me to leave?”

“Don’t,” Steve’s cursing himself inwardly for answering so quickly. “Un- unless you wanna leave—“

“I wanna stay,” She answers at an embarrassing speed, making Steve smile. “I— I can stay overnight, if you want. But don’t feel obligated to say yes.”

“They’ll let you do that?”

“Usually, no, but I know the nurse on shift tonight, and she’s incredibly sweet. Told me already I can stay if I need to.” Frankie smirks. “One, tiny upside of being a hospital regular. Honestly, everyone’s nice here, at least who I’ve met.” She stops herself from rambling, glancing at Steve with concern. “You need anything right now?”

Steve murmurs, “No, just cold,” and releases her hand to pull the covers over himself, shivering. As he does, Frankie catches the scar around his neck while the flimsy hospital gown shifts along with him, exposing a sliver more of him than she’s seen.

He notices her stare, hand flying to his neck in a pathetic attempt to cover it; he’s quick to stammer out an excuse, “Oh that’s, uh, from— it’s actually a long story, but it’s not— it’s—“

Frankie shakes her head, reaching for Steve’s hand to squeeze softly. “You don’t have to tell me anything, not unless you’re ready and want to. Whatever your story is, Steve, it’s for you to tell on your own terms.”

Again, she watches him relax from a tensed state.

“Thank you, ‘Key.”

She smirks, “Y’know, I only let people I’m close to call me that.”

“Oh- oh, shit, I’m—“ He sits up, about to stammer out an apology, but her free hand gently stops him before pushing him back down slowly.

“That includes you.”

“Really?”

“Just one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You tell me if you’re in pain. I know that’s nearly all the time, but if you can’t come in, or can’t hang out, you tell me. Hell, if you need, you can call me if you’re home alone and just need to talk about it.” She softly demands and suggests. Steve nods; it’s only fair, especially after tonight’s scare. “Or even if you still come to work or want to keep plans, don’t be afraid to ask for what you need. I’d rather you take care of yourself than push your body past its limits.”

Steve’s mind races around for the right words to return to her, but all he can respond with is a sincere, “Thank you, Frankie.” Then he adds quickly, “All of what you just said, that applies to you too. Got it?” He tries coming off stern, playfully, of course; instead, his lips crack into a smile, but the sentiment is still true.

“Got it, Stevie,” She tries winking, but it looks more like a twitch, and the two burst into giggles. “You make it look so easy whenever you wink!”

Steve just shoots her a smooth, quick wink. In return, he gets her playful eye roll. He finds comfort and safety in the harmless teasing between one another.

Things might’ve gone to hell tonight, but at least Steve didn’t go through it alone.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

When everyone returned to the hospital room, they made sure to keep their tones quiet, soft, and Steve felt some guilt over that, but he reminded himself too that he’s lucky to have friends who accommodate his needs.

He catches Robin, Dustin, and Eddie up to speed, leaving out the gory, telling details of his flashbacks; Robin must’ve warned Dustin and Eddie to not speak about the Upside Down, for Frankie’s sake. And really, for Steve’s sake, too. After his mind ran through every event, every memory, down to the very last detail, he was exhausted. The last thing he wanted to think or talk about was Hawkins, and all the horrors it once contained.

And once proper introductions were made, Steve admired the way Dustin and Eddie automatically included Frankie into every part of the conversation, making sure she felt welcomed among them, too.

Steve needed this. He needed the distraction, needed the laughter, the inside jokes, with stories explained to Frankie to keep her in the loop. The longer the visit went on, though, the more Steve realized at some point, he’d have to explain everything to Frankie. She told him to take his time, that he wouldn’t ever need to talk about it if he wasn’t ready, but he’d rather get it out in the open sooner rather than later.

This friendship was something Steve never had with anyone else before, and he was quickly growing attached to the dynamic. He never expected to grow attached to Frankie so fast, either. Or at all.

Visiting hours end, with Dustin hugging Steve a little too tight, apologetic as he loosens his arms when Steve grumbles in pain. Dustin narrows his eyes at Steve, repeating a sentiment from the time they were stuck in the elevator in Starcourt. “If you die, I die. So don’t die.”

“Oh, we changed that one up a bit? Alright,” Robin snorts, and Dustin flips her off.

Meanwhile, Steve only shrugs. “Okay.”

“Some things never change,” Robin mutters, shaking her head.

The older two out of the trio say their goodbyes, too, with Eddie reminding in a sing-song voice, “Gonna bother you again tomorrow, Big Boy.”

“Please, for the love of—“ Steve sighs, sinking under the covers, embarrassed. “Stop calling me that.” Frankie’s lost, but still giggling over the exchanges; he points at her, “No, don’t— do not encourage his nonsense.”

“Respectfully, no, I’ll never stop.” He grins while Robin shoves him out of the room. As he’s nearly out the door, he waves and shouts, “Nice meeting you, Frankie!”

Alone, yet again, Frankie bites her lip to contain her laughter, and Steve narrows a glare at her. “Oh, I can already tell you’re gonna be trouble with them.”

“Listen, it’s not my fault your friends are funny and charming.”

“They’re anything but—“

“Oh, I’m telling ‘em tomorrow you said that.”

“Where’s your proof, Amato?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Harrington.” She sticks her tongue out at him.

Laughing, his brows knit together, “I would!”

He tries to conjure a better comeback to throw her way, but his thoughts fizzle out while watching her set up the chairs into a makeshift bed.

“Frankie.”

She spins around, watching Steve lean up on his elbow. “Huh?”

“You’re not sleeping on those chairs. That’s gonna kill your neck. And your back.” Steve deadpans, pulling his glasses off to set them on the nightstand. “And every other joint in your body.”

Frankie snorts, holding her arms out, “Then where am I sleeping, Steve?”

“Up here,” He’s even surprised by his own boldness, but carries through. “With me.”

If one could hold someone’s gaze in a death grip, Frankie would be doing that right now with Steve’s stare; disbelief and skepticism floods through her thoughts.

“Unless that’s too— if you’re not comfortable—“

“Steve,” Frankie pushes past the way her round cheeks flush red, “We gotta stop second guessing ourselves like this.”

“Yeah, but I just don’t want to assume—“

“When you’re close with someone, assumptions are kind of a given. When someone gets you, it’s not offensive.” She holds the extra pillow a nurse gave her earlier to her chest. “I’m okay with it, if you are. And I’m going to assume you are, because you asked—“

“Demanded—“

Her mouth falls open at his bluntness, “Okay, Big Boy, slow down—“

“Francesca,” He groans, falling back onto the pillows, “please do not call me that.”

She laughs softly, tugging the edges of Steve’s lips into a soft smile; he’s a goner. He knows he is. He’s known for awhile now, but her laugh, her smile, solidifies it.

“Okay, Steven.”

Waving his arm out towards the uncomfortable hospital bed, he sasses, “Will you shut the hell up and get up here?”

“Didn’t know you were so bossy in bed, Steve,” Frankie waggles her brows at Steve, and while he tries rolling his eyes, his face falls back into a deep shade of red she’s been so easily able to pull out of him these days.

“Christ, Amato, do you ever sh—“

“Shut it, man. I’m moving as fast as a cripple can,” She teases, rounding the bed to climb into the empty side. Kicking her boots off, she swings her legs into the bed. There’s just enough room for her, but only if she presses against Steve by just a touch. “If this is too close—“

“It’s not—“

“Okay, well—“

“‘Key?” Steve’s voice wavers, soft and unsure of himself, despite the habitual teasing. “Can you— shit, this is stupid—“

“Whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” She reassures blindly. “Ask me.”

Steve takes a deep breath, nerves seeping through the overly confident demeanor the drugs gave him. “Can you… can—“ He sighs, frustrated with himself, before blurting out, “Can you hold me?”

Frankie doesn’t answer, not verbally; already on her side, she winds her arms around Steve’s torso, hugging him lightly from behind.

“This okay? You’re comfortable?”

He just nods definitively.

“Steve… your gown is open.”

He panics, shooting up and throwing a hand behind himself to try closing the opening, until he feels Frankie shake against him with laughter.

“You’re such a— quit laughing!” Steve laughs as he tries demanding this of Frankie.

“M’sorry, it was just— the opportunity was there, I had to take it.”

He sighs, suppressing his grin, his chuckles, laying back down. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Best place to have one though, no?” Frankie settles down, snuggling closer to him; her position is certain, yet leaves room for Steve to distance himself if he wants.

He doesn’t answer with words, just tugs her arms closer around his body, her hands to his chest.

“Hey, Frankie?”

“Mhm?”

“Thank you. I know those migraines aren’t exactly life threatening, but…” He trails off, closing his eyes before admitting the truth, “They make it so… so hard to want to be alive. I’m grateful for your help. I’m sorry you had to witness that, but I— you—“ Oh, fuck it. “I didn’t expect to become so attached to our friendship, to you. But… I’m one lucky, unlucky son of a bitch to have someone in my life like you.”

Frankie feels her tears well her eyes; her and Steve are both so easily emotional— it comes with the territory of being sick on a regular basis. Who wouldn’t be? Realistically, how can you expect someone in the depths of internal and external pain to navigate this life with ease?

Neither of them are cured from the security of this friendship, but it’s reassuring to both that neither are alone in this fight against the bodies they pilot, day in, day out. No definite future for either separately, but at least they can navigate it together.

Frankie’s almost sure Steve’s asleep, so she speaks up to make sure.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

She sighs, pushing her sentiment into words, solidifying the security of their friendship, at the very least.

“Whatever hell you lived through,” Her voice wavers while on the precipice of sleep, barely heard under the heart monitor’s routine beeps. “I’m glad you survived.”

He’s half asleep, heart monitor rolling to a steady crawl. “M’glad I survived, too.”

#Steve Harrington x fem!oc #Steve Harrington x oc #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #my fics #stranger things x fem!oc #stranger things fic #stranger things x oc #fic: accident prone

78 notes · View notes

ilyasorokinn · 2 years ago

Text

sorry , george daniel

note, okay, this is the first time i've written for george. also, i love charli and george. just want to preface by saying that idk why? pair, george daniel x reader summary, george and y/n got into an argument before the show, so as a way of apologizing to him, she surprises him at the show. warnings, argument word count, 1317 words

(gif not mine)

The fight you had gotten into wasn't the worst fight you and George had ever had, but you had to fly home because they were still on tour and you had to get home and go back to your life. if you flew home and didn't get to apologize, it would eat you alive for months.

So, you quickly booked a later flight and went to the closest craft store to enact your plan. The only other person who was in on it was Ross because you didn't trust Matty not to tell George. You would've told Adam too but you couldn't find him when you were telling Ross.

Ross got you a ticket and helped you with an easy sign that George would see from the stage (he helped test out the viewability by standing in George's spot on the stage while you stood in various spots around the pit till you found the perfect spot.)

So, a few hours later, you were sitting in the pit with all the fans. A few of them recognized you and you talked with them, making jokes and waiting for the show to start.

"Nice tattoo." You smiled, pointing to the box tattooed on the girl's skin.

"Oh, thanks." She smiled sheepishly, "Do you have one too?" She asked.

"Small one." You turned your arm, showing her the small box on your wrist, "Got it with George, and I swear to God, I almost passed out." You both laughed.

"So, I have to admit, I would've thought you'd be in a box or something." She hesitantly starts.

"Yeah," You sighed, "We sort of got into a fight, so I'm here to make a grand romantic gesture apology."

She smiled, "That's so sweet." Before adding, "And I promise I'm not one of those fans who, like, spread information on the internet."

You chuckled, "Thank you, I appreciate that."

You started to get more and more nervous as time ticked down and it got closer to when the boys were gonna come out. Your phone dinged in your pocket, so you quickly pulled it out and checked to see the message.

g <3 hey hope you landed safe i'm sorry love you ❤️

You read and re-read the message a few times because your heart was melting and you felt like crying a little. You wanted to respond, but you didn't want to ruin the surprise, so you waited.

The boys came out, and while you normally waited backstage, or watched them perform from a special seat, or from the sidelines, nothing ever compared to the energy in the pit.

You waited a couple songs until Matty did his speech just because you didn't want to ruin a song. Once he sounded like the end of his speech, you raised up your sign, which easily grabbed everyone's attention.

"Holy..." Matty stopped speaking, about to go on off on whoever interrupted him, but when he saw who it was, he laughed. He looked back at George, who was squinting to read the sign, "Geez, George." He muttered, shaking his head as the crowd laughed.

He couldn't help but bashfully smile when he finally read it, "Awh, he's blushing." Matty teased. Instead of responding, Geroge flips him off. He smiles at you once more and winks before Matty steps in, "All right, that's enough. We get it, you love each other." He rolled his eyes while you laughed, "Back to me." He stated.

After the show, and after saying goodbye to the new friend you made in the pit, you were led backstage by a security guard to the green room where everyone else was hanging out.

The first person to see you walk in was, to no one's surprise, George, whose head had been on a swivel since they had sent the security guard to get you.

He jumped off the couch and immediately wrapped you in a big hug, one that was so powerful you had to take a few steps back so as to not fall over. He pulled away just far enough that he could get a good look at your face.

"I'm really sorry." You spoke at the same time before smiling when you realized you had said it at the same time.

"Really, I am." You stated.

"I know, I am, too." He leaned down, practically bent in half, so he could lean his forehead on yours, "How about this, we accept each other's apologies and spend the rest of the night together?" He offered.

"Yeah, that sounds good." You hummed, leaning up and kissing him.

"When's your flight?" He asked.

"Tomorrow at 10." He frowned, "I know." You sighed, "But we can enjoy tonight." You offered him a smile.

"Yeah." He nodded, whisking you away to grab a drink. Before making it to the drinks, you bumped into the Ross, who gave you a knowing smile.

“Mission accomplished, Mr. Macdonald.” You gave him a high-five.

“Glad to have been of service, Mrs. Daniel.” He winked when you rolled your eyes.

When you woke up the next morning, you really wished you hadn't. You didn't think you had too much to drink, but after 2, someone kept handing you drinks and you kept drinking them. The pounding headache was also a sign that had maybe a little too much to drink.

You glanced over at George, who was so asleep you didn't think a natural disaster would wake him. Sadly, you knew he didn't get good sleep like this while on tour, so you were upset you had to wake him but you also had a plane to catch.

"G." You whispered, placing soft gentle kisses on and around his face, to try and wake him, but to no one's surprise, he didn't wake up. You sighed and sent a quick prayer before standing up on the bed. You took a breath before you started jumping, "Wake up, wake up!" You shouted.

George instantly jolted awake and looked around, alarmed as he tried to calm his racing heart. When he saw you standing above him, an apologetic look on his face, he fell back on the bed and shut his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

"Sorry." You jumped down beside him and kissed his forehead, "I tried to wake you up nicely, but you could sleep through a tornado and I have a plane to catch."

He mumbled something you couldn't quite understand, but you knew he was wide awake now, so you left him to get ready while you got ready yourself.

By the time you were done getting ready and had packed all your stuff away, George had been ready and was waiting for you, watching TV in the other room.

"You ready?" You nodded, rolling your bags towards the door, but George stopped you, grabbing the handles, and leaving your hands free.

"Thank you." You smiled, holding the hotel room door open for him before you walked hand in hand down the hall towards the elevator.

The ride to the airport was quiet and short, too short for either of your likings. George got out first and helped you out then grabbed your bags from the trunk and set them down before turning to you, a pout on his face.

"I'll see you soon." You reminded him, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him close, "So soon."

"I know." He sighed, "Remember, call me when you land."

"I will." You nodded, pulling away so you could kiss him one last time, "Don't cause too much trouble without me."

"I won't." He smiled, pecking your lips one more time, "Get home safe."

"I will." You nodded before detaching yourself from him and grabbing the handles of your bags, "I love you." You told him one last time.

"I love you, too." He smiled, waving to you and watching you walk into the airport.

my taglist: @romanticingheroin @sadqn1 @befrwime @mattymybeloved @zzzhealy @fanaticalfantasist @thefrontofmymind @scooby-doodoo

add yourself to my taglist!

#george daniel imagine #george daniel imagines #george daniel x reader #george daniel fic #george daniel blurbs #george daniel #the 1975 imagine #the 1975 imagines #the 1975 fic #the 1975 blurbs #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 #george daniel fanfic #taylor writes: 1975 #taylor writes

69 notes · View notes

darkstar225 · 2 years ago

Text

Twice's 10th member has to go on a hiatus

A/N: Heyyy, I'm coming up with a lot of stuff for you guys lol! Sry for taking so long to post but the end of the semester is a whole event for me :D I hope that my friend ECKEYYY that gave me this idea on Wattpad likes it! :)

The request: so this request super random, I was listening to this song (Promise by TWICE) and what if Reader went to hiatus due to mental health during Ready To Be era. Because Reader just only 17 year old so the members and fans don't know when will Reader coming back and what if Reader surprised them during their last concert in America. I just need you to make me crying xx

PS: Tysm for everyone that reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

The dimly lit dressing room was filled with bittersweet anticipation as the members of TWICE prepared for their last concert in America during the Ready To Be era. Their energy was a mix of excitement and sadness, as they knew it marked the end of a chapter in their journey as a group. However, one lingering question weighed heavily on their hearts, when would Y/N, their beloved 10th member and youngest, return from her unexpected hiatus?

It had been several months since the maknae had taken a break from the group due to her struggles with mental health. At just 17 years old, the pressure of their rigorous schedule had taken a toll on her, and the decision to go on hiatus had not been an easy one. The members understood and respected her need for time and space, but the uncertainty of her return left an ache in their hearts. As they gathered for a group hug before heading out on stage, they couldn't help but wonder if they would ever perform together as nine again. They had missed their angel dearly during their tour, and her absence was a constant reminder of the importance of mental health care. In the audience, the fans were also anxious and hopeful. Their love for Y/N was unconditional, and they yearned for her to come back stronger than ever. Signs and banners expressing their support for the young idol were held high, forming a sea of love and encouragement.

As TWICE's concert began, the energy of the crowd was electrifying. The members poured their hearts into each performance, their love for their fans evident in every move they made. The vibrant atmosphere warmed the room, yet a small void remained, the absence of TWICE's honey, the missing piece of the puzzle. Backstage, the other members took turns checking their phones, hoping for any news from their girl. Yet, there was still no sign of her. The uncertainty weighed heavily on their minds, but they knew that pressuring her to return before she was ready would do more harm than good. In the midst of the concert, as the members sang their hearts out, a familiar voice echoed through the hall, but it was not on stage, it came from a video message displayed on the giant screen behind them.

Y/N - Hello, ONCE! I hope you're all enjoying the concert.

As Y/N spoke with her voice filled with sincerity, the crowd erupted into cheers and tears welled up in the members' eyes as they turned to see the video message.

Y/N - I miss you all so much, and I'm sorry I couldn't be there in person. But I promise, I'm getting better each day.

The audience fell silent, hanging onto every word as the girl shared her struggles and her journey toward healing. Her vulnerability touched the hearts of everyone present, as they realized the toll the industry could take on young artists.

Y/N - I want to thank all the ONCEs for your endless support and love. It means the world to me, and I promise to come back stronger than ever.

As the video ended, the crowd erupted into cheers once more, chanting the youngest's name. The remaining members embraced each other, tears streaming down their faces. The weight of uncertainty had been lifted, replaced by hope and determination. The concert continued with a renewed energy, each song now carrying an even more profound meaning. The audience sang louder and danced with more vigour, and the members performed with all their hearts, knowing that TWICE's angel was watching and cheering them on. However, as the concert reached its climax, the stage fell dark for a moment, causing the crowd to fall silent. The members exchanged worried glances, unsure of what was happening. Then, a spotlight illuminated the centre stage, revealing Y/N standing there, a smile stretching across her face.

Gasps and tears filled the arena as the members rushed to Y/N, embracing her tightly. The crowd erupted into cheers, and the maknae's eyes glistened with tears of joy.

Y/N - I'm back loves!

The members and fans surrounded her with love and warmth, expressing their joy and relief at her return. Her journey had not been easy, but it was evident that she had emerged stronger and more resilient than before. For the rest of the concert, the stage belonged to all nine members once again. Their bond was unbreakable, and the love they shared was palpable. Every moment was filled with happiness, and the fans' unwavering support made it all the more special. As the final notes of their last song resonated through the venue, the members held hands, forming a tight circle. Tears streamed down their faces, but they were tears of gratitude and love. As the leader, Jihyo was the one to give a speech.

Jihyo - Together, we are TWICE, and together, we will face whatever the future holds.

The girls nodded in unison, their hearts overflowing with love for each other and their fans. The concert was not just an end, it marked a new beginning, a promise that they would continue to support and care for one another, no matter what challenges lay ahead. As the lights dimmed, and the members took their final bow, they felt a renewed sense of purpose. The journey of TWICE and Y/N was far from over, but they knew that with the love and support of their fans and each other, they could face anything that came their way. With that, the girls looked around and could only have one thought:

We are proud of our chosen family.

A/N: I apologise for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there's something wrong, ty for reading <3

32 notes · View notes

oxfordsnotbroguesplease · 21 days ago

Text

music playlists about my Ex - pt 1

When I started dating my most recent ex, I found myself listening to certain songs over and over again. I ended up putting them in a playlist, then added other songs that I felt accurately described what I was feeling at the time, both in general and about him

I would send him songs as a way to communicate my feelings. I felt they were more accurate descriptions of my mental and emotional state than I could put in my own words.

Here are the songs:

Lover Boy - Phum Viphurit

Dive - Ed Sheeran

Sea of Love - Cat Power

Absolutely Smitten - Dodie

Into You - Ariana Grande

Nova - Anna Wise, MAURICE II & geovariance

Sunflower - Rex Orange County

Falling for U - Peachy! & mxmtoon

All Like Whatever - Watsky

Boys Like You - Dodie

It Will Come Back - Hozier

Regret it in the Morning - Sky-Pony

Would You Be So Kind - Dodie

Follow Through - The Altogether

Ticket to Ride - Carpenters

Francis Forever - Mitski

Say So - Doja Cat

Witch - The Bird and the Bee

Be Careful, It's My Heart - Bryce Pinkham & Lora Lee Gayer (Holiday Inn OBC)

Whoever You Are, I Love You - Kristin Chenoweth (Promises Promises Revival cast recording)\

Fool - Frankie Cosmos

It's Over / Engagement Party - Justin Hurwitz (La La Land soundtrack)

I'd say the most important songs are:

Dive

Sea of Love

All Like Whatever

It Will Come Back

Follow Through

Ticket to Ride

Be Careful, It's My Heart

Fool

Dive - The lyrics say it all. "So don't call me baby / unless you mean it / And don't tell me you need me / if you don't believe it / So let me know the truth / before I dive right into you"

Sea of Love - The Cat Power cover feels like a hug. Side note, when I eventually showed him this playlist, this song led to him showing me Juno. I had never seen it before, but the scene they use this song in is pretty much how I felt about my Ex.

All Like Whatever - Falling in love causes two different reactions in me: Euphoria and embarrassment. Love isn't a weakness. But it makes me specifically weak. I felt this song balanced how infatuated I was with how nonchalant I was trying to appear.

It Will Come Back - In the same vein as Dive, this songs plays into my insecurities. "Don't let it in with no intentions to keep it, Jesus Christ / Don't be kind to it / Honey don't feed it, it will come back". I had sent this song to him as a way of saying "Please don't give me all this love if you don't want us to become a thing because I'm falling in love with you." But I don't think he got the message.

Follow Through - A lovely song that conveyed the gentle persistence I wanted to have (and hopefully, actually had) that I would be a good partner. Or at the very least, make him happy.

Ticket to Ride - hahahahaha. I felt he did not like me as much as the other guys I was dating at the time. That's a story for another time. But I felt that, despite us having the label of bf/gf, he liked me the least of the guys I was seeing. "He's got a ticket to ride / and he don't care..."

Be Careful, It's My Heart - Self explanatory. It's all in the title.

Fool - I first saw this song in a TikTok about crushes. The line "You make me feel like a fool waiting for you" reminded me of my Ex because he was habitually late. This song also just fucks. Imagine you're supposed to meet your partner at party. You get there right on time, but he's nowhere to found. Time passes, 5 becomes 10 becomes 15 becomes 30. Anxiety and frustration builds, and when it seems like you should just give up, you see him enter. Your eyes meet from opposite ends of the room. And he smiles. And just like that everything in you melts away. As you begin to make your way to each other, other people start greeting him, and before you know it, he's pulled away to some other part of the party and it seems he's forgotten about you. Do you keep making your way over? Do you leave him be to enjoy himself? If you love him, you want him to be happy. It can't be all about you. There are other people you can talk to at this party. You don't know what to do. But what you do know is that he makes you feel like a fool.

I enjoy having the piano piece It's Over / Engagement Party from La La Land at the end. It's a short but beautiful track that I think adds an uncertain finality to the end of the playlist. Plus, the title is a great addition to the theme of "uncertain love" that I have here.

There are 7 different playlists for this guy, so get ready for another 6 posts about music!

0 notes

thatspookyagent · 3 years ago

Text

Being a Pro Hero with wings and dating Hawks (GN!Reader) would include...

Warnings: Small mentions of blood and tiny bits of angst

a/n: This will be my second time writing for Hawks cause honestly this man is just SOOO much fun to write. Also I have more headcanon ideas that are based off of having wings (mainly ones that look similar to Hawks) so don’t be afraid to encourage me to write more about that specifically! Also I have yet AGAIN gotten carried away with headcanons so I not only did quite a few headcanons but ALSO wrote up a small drabble at the end of this. This is my very first time doing a little drabble within headcanons so let me know what y'all think about it and my characterization of Hawks. Without further ado, if you liked what you read, remember to reblog it! And while you're at it, check out my other works for anything else that might tickle your fancy! Enjoy!

If you want to be tagged in any of my content, don’t be afraid to tell me via my ask box or through messages! Just remember to be clear about what specific kinds of content, characters, and fandoms you want me to tag you in or if you want to be put on my general tag list! I’m always looking to add more people and I’d be more than happy to add you (if you wish)! :3

I feel like Hawks would react differently based on if your wings are similar to his or very much different

If your wings are similar to his I think he’d fine them pretty intriguing but also comfortable in a homely way due to the fact that they remind him of his own and he’s very proud of his own wings and what they can do and have accomplished

He likes to tug or brush his fingers lightly against the very tip of your wings as an affectionate gesture

Definitely loves to touch both of y’all’s wing tips together like y’all are fist bumping

But in all seriousness he absolutely shows the most physical affection through touching your wings or touching/brushing his against yours

If you’re the one to mainly initiate said wing caressing then he would love that form of affection even more than he did before

Some of his favorite positions to snuggle in are where your wings and his are touching or lying on top of one anothers

Loves the friction that the wings will make when they rub against each other

If your wings are quite soft, it’ll feel even better, and maybe even ticklish at times

His two favorite snuggling positions are when you lay on top of him, with your arms around his back and vice versa, meanwhile your wings and his also hug one another intimately

The other favorite position is whenever the two of you spoon, your wings act as little blankets to lay softly on top of whoever’s the little spoon

They actually work to create some level of warmth when it gets a bit chilly outside or inside

He likes to be a bit of a playful ass at times by rubbing his wings against fabrics and then touching them against your skin, causing one of those shocks that you get from touching a car door handle

One of your favorite bonding activities to do with Hawks is to help preen his feathers and then have him preen yours

I personally headcanon that Hawks does have to do SOME type of maintenance to his feathers especially after a particularly tough battle since the feathers can collect all kinds of dirt, sweat, and debris

And once they come back to Hawks after being sent out by him to do various tasks, they can feel a little awkward and grainy cause they’re dirty themselves

Not to mention they can get burned, burned, sticky, etc, so they’re not immune to the elements or being roughed up or out of alignment in general

So the two of you will have wing cleaning days were it’s literally just you and him sitting on top of a tarp that’s on the floor and just picking the grime out of each others feathers

It’s extremely therapeutic and calming especially with some music going in the background or y’all’s mutual comfort shows playing on the TV off to the side of you

A times you him and talk but y’all two get into so much that it’s one of the only times in your relationship with Keigo were he’s dead silent but not because something is wrong or bothering him

If you’re new to having someone else clean your wings for you, Hawks is arguably the best pro hero in that department and man to be handling your feathers

He’ll always be careful and cautious when cleaning your wings, and even more so if he finds any injured ones (blood feathers)

Knows just how to deal with blood feathers and will pluck them just right while also applying sufficient first aid to them, all the while making sure that his care causes minimal bleeding for your wings

Hawks will also teach you how to deal with blood feathers on your own as well but he won’t protest if you overall prefer that he take care of them when you find any

Whenever it’s your turn to preen his feathers, Hawks likes to hum softly while you do so, and even goes as far as to lay on his back and sometimes with his head in your lap

Will not be upset with you or hold a grudge against you if you accidentally injury him or have to do so because you’re trying to treat a particularly nasty injury on him

At the end of every cleaning he likes to spray some light perfume onto both your wings and his, like dog groomers do after they’ve just gotten done grooming a dog’s fur sksks

Another one of his favorite past times with you is when the both of you take turns stroking and petting each others wings while watching TV, listening to music, reading, etc

If you’re wings are vibrant colors, he’ll admire them even more and really enjoy seeing them while in broad daylight because he gets to see how the sun reflects and bounces off the myriad of colors on them

His first action whenever the both of you wake up in the morning is to kiss the shoulders of your wings and spread them out ever so slightly to admire them yet again

That’s basically his version of saying good morning which you’ve learned to do to him usually whenever you wake up first before him

Loves waking up with his face in your wings and for that to be the first thing that he sees every morning and last thing that he sees before going to sleep

Likes to “hold wings” with you whenever the two of you are out and about in public and will gladly also hold hands with you on top of that

Hawks also likes to do things that make not only your body react but your wings as well

Will absentmindedly play with them whenever he’s bored especially at home cause he’s not really used to having someone else whose wings he can mess with

Does things like stretching them out and then folding them back in again, which can actually be kinda of relaxing on the muscles especially if you’re sore from a recent fight with an adversary

Speaking of fighting, both you and Hawks gained the team duo name “Birds of a Feather” from the citizens that you and him have saved and y’all are hands down the hottest (literally and figuratively) Pro Hero duo to date

You’ve learned to synchronize both your speed and flying abilities with Keigo’s and both citizens and heroes alike get a kick out of watching the both of y’all fly around together

You ever seen videos of birds “becoming official” or mating by flying together in intricate dances, yeah that’s you and Hawks

Though overall Hawks would rather you not fight and stay safe off to the sidelines instead, despite that he knows that would be insulting your potential and your strength if he brought it up so he fights the hardest whenever you’re around to make sure that never happens

You can tell that he does it as well and it makes you push yourself even harder to protect him, though you both know that you’re not perfect, and stuff happens

If you do get hurt, he’ll fight to the death to get your somewhere safe, and to receive proper medical assistance

Will always shield you with his wings while you’re down, even if he doesn’t have a single feather left to fight or defend you with

If he gets hurt, you will come out wings swinging to ensure that man makes it out alive, even if you don’t

He hates the very thought of you doing something sacrificial stuff like that but he could never blame you because he operates and thinks the same exact way and would be a stone faced hypocrite to get onto your back about something like that

Now that we’ve talking a bit about flying, another favorite bonding activity of yours to do with Hawks is to just flying around the city, with him right next to you

Doesn’t have to be to any particular place, y’all just fly together, hands holding, and talking about whatever

Can be about other Pro Heroes, what’s being happening in the world lately, or about the silliest of things

As long as y’all have the city to look down on, the many lights brightening up both of your faces, as the two of you cruise through the skies calmly

In fact your very first date with him was just like that and you hold it very close to your heart which Keigo does as well

He enjoys doing little tricks and twirls with you and showing you new styles and positions of flight

If you show him a thing or two that he doesn’t know himself or isn’t able to do, he’ll be greatly impressed with your flying capabilities

He’s incredibly internally grateful to have someone around that’s so much like him in many ways but also different at the same time

Most folks would think that Hawks would be pretty arrogant about having someone around who’s like him and even view them as competition to take out of the picture

But in truth, he’s quite lonely...

He’s flown too many nights alone, taken care of his wings solo too many times, and had nobody to bond with in terms of being avian like until you came long

He yearned to not be the only one like himself which he knew that he wasn't, considering just how many people with quirks are out there on a global scale

But damn if he couldn’t help but feel like he truly was the only one like him, which in a world were quirks are in abundance, must mean that the loneliness was just that heavy enough to weigh on him like that

From time to time he expresses that feeling to you but only in passing or in minor ways

He tries his best not to show it with his actions and reactions and how excited he’ll get about doing anything that involves your wings

Hawks doesn’t expect you to take it too seriously, to really read into that much, and especially not to take it to heart

However when one day you bring it up before going to bed, that you do in fact think seriously about what he’s said, and that you’ve not only thought about it deeply in your spare time, but can even personally relate to it

This man is high key dumbfounded and for a rare moment, at a loss for words

There’s no quirky, laid back comment to make about that one, he instead genuinely and deeply processes what you’ve confessed to him in that very moment

Hawks moved one of his wings forward and then proceeded to arch it outwards slightly so that the very tip of his wing stuck out a bit. Selecting a feather near the end of the row, he softly pulled on it, plucking it from its place.

You watched intently, wondering just what your boyfriend had in mind, as he took a moment to examine the feather that he just pulled.

“Here. Have it. Little souvenir for the road.”

While the bird-like man extended his feather towards you, you could tell from the tone of his voice that he was more serious than he was letting on. Usually his voice had an aloofness to it. It was often detached and unconcerned. Mostly slow with words, dragging them out a bit at end of each of his sentences but this time it had sincerity, a bit of hardness, but also concern etched into it.

You huffed with laughter slightly as you took the wing from his hand. The back of the red winged Pro Heroes hand being soft, warm, and inviting as per usual. However just as quickly as you took the singular feather from Hawks, you placed it down onto the plush bed sheets that crinkled under the weight of your elbow propping you up.

You moved one of your own wings forward, braced yourself, and then winced from the sharp pain of you snatching a single feather from its secure and comfortable shaft. You wiped off a bead of blood that stuck to it and then held it out for Hawks to take.

“I outright refuse to be the only one in this relationship with a new key chain bauble, Keigo.”

You earned a couple of laughs from Takami, which you always aimed to do whenever you were in his presence. He carefully took the feather from your hand, making sure to caress it lightly before doing so. He placed it on his side of the bed, right next to his own that he just gave to you, and let out a brief sigh of relief.

“Just wanted to be able to know where you are at all times, yanno? Or at least have something to remind you of me whenever we’re apart. Not that you could ever forget a face as handsome as mine of course, but the thought is what counts right?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, this man. But you knew very well that under the facade of jokes and banter, there was an individual who yearned to not be alone and to have a long term and committed relationship. Someone who couldn’t bare the thought of losing you in any capacity.

He distanced, defended, and protected himself with humor due to his occupation, and you didn’t seek to change that about him, only to walk pathways that lessened that hurt inside of him.

“Wouldn’t have it any way Keigo. You know that.”

Hawks smiled softly while bringing you closer to his chest, the two feathers staying exactly where they were. Right in between the two people who were now bonded even more so through the very features that were at the core of their quirks, lives, and love.

255 notes · View notes