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gamarancianne · 5 months

Note

Hi, how are you? I had an idea and I wanted to ask you if you could do an angst with Azriel x reader in which she is friends with Elain and has been in love with Az for some time, but has never told him because they hardly have any contact apart from the Valkyries and Elain's training. Then they get a little closer and she decides to tell Elain all about her feelings for Azriel and pushes the reader to confess her feelings and that's exactly what she does, but Azriel's reaction isn't the most pleasant and he lets out a "How can you fall in love with someone you hardly know? Only fools are like that. So she is devastated and disappears for a few days, until she returns and catches Azriel and Elain in a very intimate moment in the bedroom and realizes that they were already together even before she confessed her feelings to him and they end up drifting apart. So the reader begins to do everything she can to forget Az and concentrate on herself and, in the meantime, becomes friends with Lucien, to the point of braiding each other's hair. After a while, they break up and Az starts to notice the reader, but she's looser than ever and doesn't care much about him. And he chases after her a lot and in the meantime an obscenity occurs to her so that she ends up saying it was just a one-night stand. And the ending is up to you :)

Azriel x reader - In Between part 1

Part 2

Okay first of all thank you so much for this ask it is my first so its precious to me !! And I am really fine and you ?? I love the plotline and I am sucker for angst, especially with our little azzy so it's perfect !!

Warnings : angst, smut allusions, heartbreak, mean Az, mean Elain

Summary : You are in love with Azriel, but you don't know him, that's what he said when you confessed. Heartbroken yes, but you surely didn't think that he would end up being with your dear friend Elain.

Note : well this has gotten longer than I thought so it will part 2 and I am already working on it don't worry. Also I didn't know if Elain knew that it was Az or not so I improvised. I hope it fits your standards and you can all tell me what you think about it in the comments. And I am again sorry for my English 😭💗

There he was, in all his glory, sweaty from his fight with Cassian, his shadows swirling around him and you had never been more attracted to someone.

Elain had finally convinced you to join her at training and you instantly regretted, looking at how hard the Valkyries were training but mostly feeling your cheeks heaten up at the sight of him. Of his naked torso full of black ink and fight scars. 'Gods, cauldron boil me why did I accept this' you thought. But Elain was quick enough to shove the thought away when she brought you to introduce you to her family. You had already seen them many times when you had picked her up after training for a walk or a tea party, thing that you both enjoyed a lot, but it was never a proper meeting like this one.

"Hey guys !" She exclaimed, full of joy "This is yn, a friend of mine and she's coming to training for the first time so I hope you are all gonna be nice to her. Especially you Az, don't scare her away" she chuckled looking a the main concerned. After quick presentations, she made sure you were okay and went with her sister, Cassian and the Valkyries for their already known exercises while you stayed there, blush creeping up to your face and ears, with Azriel. Because, with your luck, he was the one to train you today to show you the basic exercises in order to not hurt you during the first day.

"Follow me" Azriel ordered and you obeyed, walking to a smaller ring. He showed you some stretches before starting to teach you many combat basics. It was awkward, for both of you. Every time Azriel came behind you to correct your position, you would blush extremely hard and shiver at his touch. And you could tell he noticed it by the way he straightened and did everything to avoid this kind of situation. To ease the tension between us, you engaged the conversation. "they're really beautiful" you said pointing with your head the blue gems on his arms and torso now dressed with his leathers.

"Oh thanks..." he only responded. Elain did already tell you that he was a silent one but you didn't expect him to be that silent to be honest. But you were stubborn so you continued. "And.. where did you buy them ? I think it could be a nice present for my brother for next solstice". And then he froze, stared at you dead in the eye and laughed at your face. Despite the facts that you didn't understand and that you were even more embarrassed you couldn't stop yourself from enjoying the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. His beautiful laugh was clear and ran to the deepest parts of your soul.

"Wh-what is so funny about what I said?"

"They're siphons, I earned them by being a Carynthian, because I am an Illyrian soldier, you cannot buy them !" He bursted out of laughter a second time.

"Oh mother above, I am so sorry if I offended you by saying that, I don't know anything about Illyrians I am sorry. Really" you stuttered, feeling even more ridiculous than before.

He reassured you about it. You had made a fool of yourself but the air was lighter and the training went on with a more smiling and nice Azriel, with whom you had joked, laughed and exchanged soft innocent touches, until it was over. The bubble in which you and Az had been, exploded when Elain came checking on you two.

"How did it go ?" She asked excited.

"Really well" you answered quite proud of you.

Azriel nodded, and you felt his eyes linger on you when you left with your friend.

You came back the day after, and the day after and after... until it became a routine to train and laugh with Az very morning. Now you were also training with Elain and Nesta because of your quick improvements. But one thing was certain, you had fallen completely and utterly in love with Azriel. You didn't know what to do because he was always staring at you from afar when you were coming or leaving but you two never really talked about your life or anything.

While stretching with Elain, she asked about your love life and you decided that you would ask her opinion.

"Speaking of that, I need you to be brutally honest with me El' "

"What are you seeing someone ? Why didn't you tell me ?" She exclaimed.

"No I am not, don't worry I would've told you" she relaxed. "But you know there is this guy that I see almost everyday and I think we get along well. I feel like he is looking at me sometimes but we never really talk to eachother, like about our lives or anything. It's odd, but I really like him and I don't know what to do."

She smiled at your scrunched eyebrows and responded more calmly: "Follow you heart dear, you are so much beautiful and kind, there is no sane male in all Prythian who could resist you. Besides who is this man ? Isn't it the brown hair guy at the coffee shop you work at ? Because if it is he totally has a crush on you!"

"Haha no I won't tell you but thanks for the advice though, you are clearly the best! I love you Elain!"

"Me too yn, a lot. But now go get your lover before I kick you out myself for you to do it! Fly you fool!" She pushed you out the ring while you were laughing with her and you ran as fast as you could to get to the source of your desire, Azriel. He was almost shooting in the sky when you screamed his name. He turned around to see your exhausted figure running toward him.

"Hey are you okay ? What's going on ?"

"I'm fine thank you Az but I got something to tell you if you don't mind"

"Of course not go on", he responded almost too quickly and straightened hearing his nickname coming from your mouth. You always called him Azriel but never Az or Azzy. Never.

"Well, I meant to tell you for a while but I hadn't enough courage so here am I... I love you" you spoke in one breath your head down and your eyes shut.

You waited for an answer and waited again until you were almost shaking with fear and looked back at Azriel's face. What you saw made your eyes well up with tears. He was shocked, in a bad way, even disgusted at your confession.

"You don't want that yn" he finally answered.

"What ?" You asked your voice breaking.

"How can you fall in love with someone you hardly knows ? Only fools are like that". And with that he flew away, leaving you a crying mess on the floor of training.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your body and heart were sore. You had been crying for hours. After training, well, more after your mean rejection by the love of your life, you had run away to your apartment and cried without stopping, you sometimes just changed the place: your bed, the couch, even the floor. You felt broken, of course, but above all ashamed at your actions. Your bad thoughts were flooding in your head without stopping. Your anxiety, insecurity and doubts about yourself surfaced once again: he was right, how could you have fallen in love with him without even knowing him ? And then you cried again, this time at your window looking at the stars above you. Two of them were shining more than the others and you just hoped that one day the mother would give you a male, capable of loving you back so that you could both be like those stars, shining together amongst others.

It had been a few days now, and the same routine happened again everyday. You would wake up, your eyes sore from crying not remembering anything, and you would recall your conversation with Azriel and start crying again all day, only eating ice cream or cookies. Elain had sent you many notes, asking what was happening to you and why you weren't at training. You still hadn't answered yet but, today, you decided that it was time for you to get up your feet and not cry about that lame excuse of a male anymore. You dressed up and went to Elain's apartment near the Sidra.

When you arrived, the door was already open, but when you called her, she didn't answer. The worst scenarios already came to your mind and you entered in her home, scared for her. You stopped in your tracks when you heard noises coming from her bedroom. It was voices, her and Azriel's voices. You didn't want to do anything involving Azriel so you walked back to the door but froze when you heard your name. You didn't want to be nosy, but you heard your name, so it was fair to listen right? You approached slowly and silently her bedroom in which you two had have countless sleepless girls nights, and listened to their conversation.

"What ? You are the one she confessed to ?" Elain then bursted out of laughter and you felt another knife stabbing your heart. Your dear friend, who encouraged you to confess the deepest parts of your heart was mocking you in front of your said love interest. But you weren't supposed to be there, so it was your fault. You deserved it for making a fool of yourself. That's what your thoughts were screaming at you in your head.

"Yeah, but stop it now, I don't wanna talk about another woman right now" Azriel said, his voice low.

You had enough now but still decided to take a look inside yhe room and instantly regretted when you saw them together, naked from their previous activities, tangled in the sheets, now making out with eachother. Your heart already broken in a million pieces, broke again when he said those words you will remember for life "Anyway you know I only love you Elain".

You ran as fast as you could, bumping in the table, and making a big noise in the living room but you couldn't care one bit. You just had to leave the damn place. Tears were streaming down your face knowing your face, and you didn't even noticed it, only focused on the worst pain you had ever felt. The pain of your heart: of a love and a friendship broken. It was too much, too much in just a short amount of time.

And then everything hit you : Azriel had never looked nor stared at you, he was looking at Elain all this time when you were both arriving at training. He was never interested in you, it was always Elain. How could you have been so stupid and think different : the first time you two had ever talked, you had made a fool of yourself and he was only nice to you because you were Elain's friend. For the past month, in need of affection, you had lived in complete delusion of a love that never existed.

#acotar #acotar x you #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x reader #elain archeron #elain acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel x yn #acotar x y/n #writing #nesta archeron #cassian

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enviedear · 6 months

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nsfw billy headcannons (begging with tears in my eyes) 🤲🏽

billy bonney nsfw alphabet

how about an entire alphabet's worth? tbfh i just needed an excuse to do one of these for billy, plus i had a few billy smut hc requests!

request

a = aftercare

billy is sweetheart after. he cleans you up, is nice enough to don his clothes and run outside to the well to bring you clean water to wash off with. he'll be so gentle with the rag along your body, leaving little kisses in its wake. he holds you close afterward, mumbling sleepy sweet nothings into your neck. he's clingy after he fucks you proper, wants to keep you hitched to him. he feels safest and most as ease in this setting, and he tries his hardest to show you just how much it means to him.

"m'pretty girl, you're so perfect."

b = body part

he loves his hands. he's good with them and they don't look half-bad. in honest, he really didn't have a favorite until how long your eyes would linger on them. after that, he's constantly showing them off for you. fiddling his thumbs in your peripheral until you give him your undivided attention or running them along your shoulders until you're whining for him.

"what're you starin' at, honey?" he'd ask, wise grin plastered onto his face. you'd advert your eyes from his, "hush, outlaw."

his favorite innocent body part of yours is your eyes. he'll often compliment them, swear that they're like the stars above. to him, they are. you always look at him with geninue love and he feels undeserving. now, his favorite indecent part of would have to be your breasts. there i said it. he's a boob man. he wouldn't care about what they looked like or the size— he just wants to touch and watch them bounce when you ride him. he's obsessive, always reaching for them when the two of you are alone. and every time he takes you out to ride, his hands will work their way up to your bust.

"hold the reins, sweetheart." billy requests, voice rolling and deep. you furrow your brows, taking the reins, "why? what are—" you don't have to finish your question, feeling the gunslingers' rough hands against the soft flesh of your bosom, "jus' want to hold 'em, honey."

c = cum

billy likes to finish on your stomach. wants to watch just how much he can leak onto you, how well he can paint you with it. i think he gets his fix by seeing how much you can make him cum. you'll look up at him, blissed out and in a hazy afterglow, watching his face contort into pleasure as he releases, spewing his large load onto your tummy.

"see how much you get out o'me? m'good girl."

d = dirty secret

his dirtiest secret is how pitiful he is for you. if anyone knew how much he depends on you, his sweetest comfort, they'd surely use it against him. billy truly wants nothing more than you and a home, living out your days in bliss. he's whiney for you, touchy when you aren't getting the message quick enough. when he finally gets you to bed, arms caging your frame, he's whimpering and praising you for everything under the sun.

the outlaw pushes into you slowly, letting out a treble gasp, "fuck, feels s'fuckin' good sweetheart." you let out a breath, mouth slacking at the sight above you. he buries himself inside of you, whipering as you clench around him in an attempt to adjust. he lets out a longdraw curse, "wanna be inside ya' forever," a shakey breath, "i'll do anything for ya. anything."

e = experience

he's not doing too bad! before you, he had a few nice ladies, but he doesn't know everything or what to say all the time. it gives you the opportunity to be plenty of his firsts, though. he'll mostly take the lead in bed but if you ever try or say something new, he's flushing and flustered.

"you like when i do that?" you ask, staring down at billy, his eyes shut and ghost of a smile on his lips, "hm? let m'hear you, daddy." his brows furros, lips gaping, "sweetheart..." you grin, know you've got him right where you want him, "c'mon, gimme more." you watch his eyes roll back before he lets go, singing your praise and moaning into your ear.

f = favorite position

would you hate if i said cowgirl. he loves watching you on top of him, craves it. getting to see you come undone above him elicits something wild within him. he also loves the lotus, loves the way you grab his shoulder and press your forehead into his. he can't get enough of you and he feels so close to you when you're like that.

g = goofy

billy doesn't mind cracking a saccharine smile during the deed. he likes showing you that you're safe, that this whole exchange is safe. he never wants you to be scared of him. he's too amazed you're not already to ever jeopardize it. he won't be cracking any jokes while you're at it, but he doesn't mind being sweet for you.

h = hair

this is the wild west baby, lover boy's got some hair. he'll try to clean up whenever he can, but it's such a long hassle he usually opts not to. i don't think he'd necessarily be completely wild, but certainly has hair down there.

i = intimacy

so romantic. he just wants you to feel hoe much he loves you, how much you work him, how much he needs you. if he can't get the words out, he'll just show you. he's apt to kiss you everywhere he can, twice over. he'll mummer adorations on your flesh, basking in the entirety of you.

j = jack off

before you, i don't think he got to as much as he wanted. he's been on the run, hungry, and tired, the last thing on his mind is fucking his hand. and then after you, he doesn't really have a need to. if he wants pleasure he'd rather seek you out and wait until you want him.

"need something, billy?" you ask, smiling knowingly the tall man. he sighs, mirroring your own smile, "you, if you'll have me."

k = kink

he loves marking you up with lovebites. can't get enough of it really. he loves seeing the bruises on your pretty skin, a rebellious display of indecency. they're always given with the best intention though, his way of showing you and the world how good you make him feel.

also exhibitionism. not so much because he likes the thrill of getting caught, but because he's wild and isn't above having you outside. a stretch of meadow? he'll lay you down on the earth like you're the most precious thing in the world.

l = location

as he's a man on the run, a warm bed. nothing beats it. sometimes, he'll go for the great expanse of land that is the west, but usually, he wants you in a bed.

m = motivation

anything you do turns him on and keeps him going. he's sincerely obsessed with you. but your touch, with sinful intent or not, makes his brain go to mush. he loves it if you card your fingers through his hair, rub his back, or interlock your fingers with his. you're so beautiful to him, he always gets flustered by your touch. end result being the both of you high of eachother and sweaty.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

hurting you. he can't do it. he doesn't mind things like spanking or orgasm denial, because he never takes it far enough to harm you. his spanks are firm but light, his goal is to build your anticipation and not leave you bawling on his lap. he wants you to feel good, wants to be the reason you feel good, and hurting you like that doesn't give him that pleasure. he's a sweet lover, he'll be rough when it's fitting but never cruel.

o = oral

billy eats you out like a man starved. he's fully in it for you, but the way you sound due to none other than his mouth? that alone has him thrusting into the bed, roused purely by your own delight. he loves it when you want to reciprocate, he'll never turn it down. he loves the way you look with a mouth full of him.

"you taste s'good, sweetheart. want you to cum for me, let m'taste it."

p = pace

billy is mostly slow and rough. he'll fuck into you with deep and meaningful thrusts. he likes drawing out both your pleasures and tries to hold out until you're begging and pleading for him to let you cum. he also always tries to finish after you, he knows it draws out your orgasm and he finds nothing better than for you to feel good for as long as possible.

q = quickie

billy will take whatever you give him. if you want a quickie he'll give you one. i see this being the start of a great many of the times he takes you outside. walking along the road back to your home together and studying his pretty face, you can't help but reach out to him with a mischievous smirk on your face. billy will oblige you, taking you up against some poor ranchers' barn, whispering for you to stay quiet.

"hush, baby. don't want anyone to hear." billy whispers, faint smirk on his lips.

r = risk

being his girl is kind of the riskest part of being with him, but he's game for some risky activities. i could see him handing you his gun laid beside your sweaty bodies, forcing your hand to center the barrel at his temple. you'd be at a loss at first, even more so when he asks you to pull the trigger.

"what?" you gasp, hand going limp. billy doesn't stop his thrusts, "pull the trigger, sweetheart. if i'm to die it'll only be at your hands." you stay silent, stunned by his actions. he straightens your hold, "s'not loaded, honey," he smiles when you huff, bringing his hand down to your bulb, massaging gently, "but i meant what i said. you've got my life in your hands."

s = stamina

billy can definetly go for a while. he'll need quick between rounds, but you'd have to be doing a lot to wear him out. it doesn't help that he has a constant need for you. he'll try to get you to cum in so many different ways before he ever slips in, spending hours on you in complete devotion.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

did they have easily accessible sex toys in the wild west ??? idk but either way i don't think so. i do see him being very confident (rightfully so) in his own abilities. (not that he'd be against them completely)

u = unfair

billy is always a little bit unfair because he loves to tease. he really doesn't think there's anything better than the way you look deep in the thralls of ecstasy. he'll work you up when he knows the both of you can't act on it, just because he knows it'll have you a complete mess later.

v = volume

billy is pretty vocal, he's not giving you ear-splitting moans, but he is giving you wanton whimpers and needy groans. he's a rambler mostly, prattling nonsense while he slips in and out of you. he talks you through the entire act too (looking at you, anon who sent that into my inbox ur so right) he'll be so quick to tell you you're doing a good job. he also growls when he finishes, teeth barred and eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"thats m'girl, let go, i got'cha."

w = wild card

i think billy would have a secret breeding kink. he'd be pretty resolved not to finish inside you, not until his life is stable he thinks, but he craves it. he wants as many little ones as you'd give him— wants to be a father so long as you're the mother. he just wants life with you, every part, so the idea is in the back of his mind everytime he's buried within you.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

this man is six and a half, veiny, and with a banana curve. the tip is deep pink and the most sensitive for him.

y = yearning

he has a constant sex drive for you. if you want him, he's yours. he thinks about it at least a few times a doy, he can't help it, you're too good to not think of in his opinion.

z = zzz

billy likes to cuddle and talk before drifting off. he wants to make sure you're okay afterward, but also he just wants to be close to you. mentally and physically. i think he'd get his most peaceful sleep after he takes care of you, satisfied by your enjoyment and lulled further into sleep by your sweet hold.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

#billy the kid x reader #billy bonney #billy the kid #billy the kid 2022 #tom blyth #tom blyth!billy the kid #coriolanus x reader #corio x reader #coryo x reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #billy bonney x reader

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very-feral-lesbian · 2 years

Text

eddie may not have been buddy-buddy with steve in high school, but as most nerds are, he was observant. despite the attention he got from the jocks, he generally managed to stay in the background, watching the reality show that was the jocks of hawkins high.

because of that, he knew that steve was complimented on any and everything physical.

"steve, your hair is so amazing, what do you use?" "you're so handsome, steve" "steve has such a good body, nancy is so lucky"

he knew that non-skin-deep compliments were a rarity for steve.

within their group, steve was often made fun of for being stupid or airhead. eddie knows that it mostly comes from love, often dustin or robin being the root of it. he knows they mean no actual harm by their comments but eddie could see its impact on steve.

after the vecna situation, the impact of the past few years on steve became increasingly physically apparent. there were scars covering his body now more than ever, snaking around up arms, torso and legs, and the most obvious being the one around his neck.

eddie shared many of these scars with steve. the suspiciously matching ones across their chests and arms a bonding point between the two of them. dating post-vecna and bat bites wasn't that easy.

unless your partner shared nearly identical scars (emotional and physical) with you.

to eddie, the scars were badass. he thought his own scar just proved to be physical memoirs of his near-death experience. generally, he didn't think much of them.

but steve didn't have nearly as easy of a time with his scars. everything that steve had ever been congratulated for, had changed.

the base of his neck has been impacted by throat scar, the hair there obliterated by the scar tissue. his chest had deep gashes, thick scars that would never heal. he wasn't even able to play sports anymore, his body worn down from internal damage courtesy of vecna.

steve thought this made him a failure, it made him feel like a shell of himself.

but god damn if eddie wasn't set out to shut steve's shit down.

he tried to do a lot of the obvious things to make steve be less self-deprecating. lots of physical affection between the two of them; eddie often intimately tracing scars or pressing kisses to the base of steve's neck or the scars on his arms.

or sometimes it meant brushing their teeth at the same time so steve didn't spend the entire two minutes staring at his shirtless chest and working himself into an unhealthy headspace. eddie would spend the entire time clumsily talking around the toothbrush in his mouth, usually rating about a gig or his newest campaign.

but eddie also made a conscious effort to compliment steve on things outside of his appearance. because steve was hot, obviously, but he was a catch in many other ways.

steve had taken up cooking recently, finding joy in cooking for their group. and he was good at it, so eddie wasn't lying when he said, "fuck this is good babe" or "damn if i wasn't already sleeping with you, this pie would make me want to"

eddie knew that nothing he did could heal steve's physical scars, but he was doing what he could to remedy the emotional ones

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 19 days

Text

The Mango (The Surprise, Part 13)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language, innuendo, implied sex, periods, mostly just fluff, reader taking care of Emily because our girl deserves it Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Emily comes back from a hard week in the field and you treat her in all the ways you can possibly think of. Because she's baby girl and she deserves to be taken care of.

Week 23: The Mango

In both your personal and professional life, you were a wildly independent person. Self-sufficient, dedicated, proud of the work you did and how hard you’d worked to get where you were. You were nobody’s doormat, nobody’s housekeeper, nobody’s mom.

If anyone else you knew, especially men, asked you to cook for them or do their laundry or take care of them in any way, you would have been personally affronted. You would have said, “You’re a fucking grown-up, do it yourself. I’m not your mom.” And you’d mean it.

So it embarrassed you a bit that, with Emily, you acted like a full-blown ‘50s-style housewife and you loved it. Not all the time, of course. But enough of the time that you couldn’t just brush it off. Dinner on the table when she got home? Your pleasure. Packing her lunch? A joy. Doing the laundry and making sure she always had a second go-bag packed and ready in case there was a quick turnaround on cases? You lived for that shit, especially when you hid little notes in the pockets that said things like:

I love you (so does little mango)!

We miss you! <3!

So proud of you for saving lives and kicking criminal ass! P.S. It’s hot. ;)

The bottom line? You were down bad for Emily. You had been from the moment she’d asked you out and all the years since. But after you’d gotten pregnant, your roles had switched a bit. Emily had always taken care of you well, but in the last few months she'd taken over significantly more of the household tasks since you were often tired and achy. You ordered takeout more often than you cooked (Emily had tried, but after her third time setting off the fire alarm you’d said, “You know what, babe, why don’t we just order out?”).

You missed taking care of Emily. God knows, she wouldn’t let anybody else do it. So when she’d called you from the jet to let you know she was on her way home after a grueling week in the field–made even more grueling by the fact that she was on her period–you set out to treat Emily right. To treat her in all the ways you used to treat her before you got pregnant, in all the ways that Emily deserved to be treated and so rarely let herself be.

You had groceries delivered to make her favorite meal, and when the little Find My dot that was Emily showed up at Quantico and started making its way back to DC, you ran her a bath–water scalding so it’d be nice and hot when she came in, fragrant with lavender Epsom salts. You lit candles, turned the bathroom lights low, even put her favorite hoodie and sweatpants and a fluffy towel in the dryer so they’d be toasty and warm when she got out of the bath.

You started on dinner, playing Emily’s favorite Salah Ragab record on the turntable. The food processor growled as it worked overtime to blend a homemade hummus, complete with your secret ingredient: a splash of aquafaba. You chopped parsley and mint for fattoush, made a marinade for the chicken flavored with all the spices Emily loved so much from her childhood years in Oman and Egypt, sumac and cardamom and coriander and all the others that you ordered online from a specialty Middle Eastern spice seller.

Your oven shawarma wasn’t as good as shawarma from a spit in Cairo, but it was about as close as you could get at home, and Emily loved it. And you made a damn good fattoush and hummus. You sliced cucumbers and tomatoes, whipped together a quick yogurt sauce.

You’d just put the chicken and veggies in the oven and were starting on the cream cheese filling for the stuffed dates when you heard the door open and shut.

“In the kitchen!” you called, hands sticky from slicing the dates.

Emily looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes, her blazer rumpled from a long day of travel. But her face lit up when she saw you.

“Do I smell… shawarma?!” she asked, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing your neck, her hands resting protectively over your baby bump.

“Mmhm.” You grinned, feeling Emily’s body melt into yours, the tension in her muscles already dissipating.

“What’s the occasion?” She turned you around, so she could lean her arms on your shoulders, running her fingers through your hair.

You shrugged. “Can’t a girl just want to treat her wife?”

“She sure can.” Emily smiled and leaned in to press her lips softly to yours. You held your hands out at your sides so you wouldn’t be tempted to press them into Emily’s clothes or skin.

Emily pulled away, watching you lovingly as you sliced and mixed and stirred.

“Can I help with anything?” she asked, lowering herself into a chair and wincing slightly.

“In the kitchen!?” You scoffed. “Absolutely not. There’s a bath ready for you, so go relax for a bit.”

Her eyes brightened. “Aw, honey. That’s so sweet of you.” She grabbed your hips again, once again turning you away from the counter so she could press you against it in a hungry kiss.

You giggled and swatted at her with a dish towel. “Go before the water gets cold!”

“Care to join?” she asked suggestively, pulling lightly at the waistband of your shorts.

You smirked, gently grasping her fingers and moving them away. “I have to finish dessert.”

Emily walked toward the bathroom like a scolded puppy, looking back with big eyes. “I can think of something else I’d rather have for dessert,” she commented, eyebrows raised.

You waved her off, blushing furiously. “Get out of here, you dork! Go take your bath!”

“I thought we were treating me tonight!” Emily called from the bathroom.

“That’s an after-dinner treat, honey,” you yelled back. “I’ve got shit to do first.”

“Fine! But I’m gonna hold you to that!”

You shook your head, grinning, as you spooned cream cheese filling into the halved dates, pressing them into a mixture of crushed pistachios and rose petals. God, you loved your wife.

When the dates were plated, the bulgur in the fattoush soaked through, the pita warmed, and the chicken covered in foil and resting on the counter, you washed your hands and went to find Emily, grabbing her comfy clothes and towel from the dryer.

You heart surged when you found her still in the tub, eyes closed, face relaxed. This is what your girl deserved. You leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

“You alright, honey?” you asked, trying to squat down next to the tub, but ending up on your knees thanks to the baby.

She hummed in affirmation, keeping her eyes closed. “Thank you so much for this, baby,” she mumbled quietly.

“Anytime, love.” You watched her for a few more minutes, then set the stack of warm clothes on the bathroom counter. “There’s a warm towel and some PJs here for you,” you said, struggling to get to your feet.

“You good?” Emily chuckled, watching you out of the corner of her eye.

“Yes.” When you finally managed to make it to your feet, you had beads of sweat on your forehead. It wasn’t even that your belly was that heavy yet, it was that it threw off your center of gravity and made moving from one position to another awkward. “Get dried off when you're ready,” you told her. “I’ll get dinner on the table.”

You were proud of the spread when you stood and surveyed it. Shawarma chicken straight from the oven, spiced and heavenly-smelling. Warm pita bread and a swirl of smooth, creamy hummus with just a bit of paprika and olive oil on top. A lovely, vibrant fattoush, sliced cucumbers, juicy tomatoes. A little plate of stuffed dates, popping with green and pink from the pistachios and rose petals.

Emily walked in, hair wet around her shoulders, blotching her sweatshirt. You pulled her chair out for her but, before she sat down, she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in for a hug. She smelled like lavender and fresh laundry, and you breathed her in, holding her close.

You could tell by the way she lingered there, by the way she breathed easier with her body pressed against yours, that Emily would need a lot of touch tonight. Not just in a sexual way, though Emily’s sex drive was always through the roof on her period. You could tell that tonight, Emily would let you hold her, that she’d curl herself around you tightly, possessively, as if to cover the most that she possibly could of your surface area.

In other words, she needed comfort. And she didn't get it from anyone else, not really. It had taken her a long time to even ask for it from you, to seek it out. So when she did, you were always more than happy to oblige. More than happy to hold clingy, sweet, needy Emily for as long as she needed.

She whined a bit when you pulled away, and you kissed her cheek, playing with her fingers.

“You’ve got to eat something, love. Then I promise I will not let you go for the rest of the night.”

She sat obediently, squeezing your hand, and piled her plate with all the things you’d made, eyes rolling back in her head when she swiped a finger through the hummus and put it in her mouth.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she gushed. “I swear your hummus tastes just like my friend Zainab’s mom’s from when I lived in Oman.”

“It’s the specialty spices,” you shrugged, taking a bite of pita with shawarma and veggies.

“No, I think it’s the special person making it,” Emily cheesed, beaming at you.

You smiled and rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, you’re getting it tonight.”

“I certainly hope so.”

When your plates were cleared and the leftovers tucked safely into the fridge, you led Emily to the bedroom, pulling back the covers for her, tucking her in.

“You know these are just gonna get untucked, right?” she asked, biting her lip.

“Shh,” you scolded. “Let me take care of you.”

You crawled into bed next to Emily, drawing her body into yours, holding her gently as you pressed your lips to hers. She melted into the kiss, already breathless.

You brushed her hair out of her face, placing your hand gently on her lower stomach. “How are your cramps?” you asked. “You want any medicine or anything?”

“The only medicine I need is you,” she said, guiding your hand lower.

You chuckled. “Alright, Romeo. Calm down.” You lowered your face to her neck, planting kisses all across her shoulder and collarbone. “I told you I’d take care of you, and I will.”

Emily held your face gently in her hands, looking deep into your eyes. “Why are you so good to me?” she whispered.

You pecked her on the lips. “Because I love you. And you deserve good things.”

And with that, you started your long, slow journey across the topography of Emily’s body, ready and willing to give her every good thing you possibly could.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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forthelostones · 2 months

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𝚙𝚝.𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆

⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡

synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby, domsub!abby, sexual themes, jealousy, fluff, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.

an: guys. this has been such a crazy ride, thanks for the support on both of my stories. it means so much to me. sorry for the wait... lets get it.

CLICK HERE.

(no y/n)

Abby watched from the row behind you, observing how you chewed on the end of that neon #2 pencil. She could tell by the bobbing of your leg that you were nervous and stuck on a specific question. It was the same during studying — chew, bob, sigh. Almost on cue, a frustrated sigh left your throat. She knew it was her fault that this was happening.

She knew neither of you studied long enough for you to feel confident on this exam. Well, that’s what she kept trying to convince herself, she was already finishing up the last page. Although her pencil glided on the paper effortlessly, she couldn’t help but be distracted by your indecisiveness on the math equations and multiple-choice questions. The once full eraser had been subsided to pure metal scrapping into the pages.

The time on her watch read ten minutes left until the end of the exam and you were only on page two. Studying had become harder for you with Abby around. It wasn’t only the dating component it was mostly the difference in your skills. Her ability to memorize vocabulary and complete math problems without thinking twice about them made you academically insecure. While you averaged low B’s and high C’s, she had a 4.0 and made it look easy. The clock's ticking distracts you from the problem you are trying to solve. It was one you and Abby worked on multiple times, yet you’re frozen, unsure how to solve it. As everyone flicks their pages to finish, you just … froze.

“Okay. Pencils down.” Your professor said just moments after you started a new equation. Your jaw dropped slightly and you squeezed your eyes shut. Abby shook her head, not at you specifically, but herself. You had practically moved in and the nights that would typically be spent studying were now used to learn more about each other beyond your friendship. Realistically, Abby understood that those moments would be worth more than a grade in the long run. But a part of her also resented getting this comfortable, ultimately impacting you. The feelings clashed within her. The heat forming inside of you could only be described as embarrassment. Why was it like your brain suddenly lost all power to its systems? It wasn’t unusual for you to skip a few questions but this was completely unlike you.

You chew on your cuticles and fold the mostly blank pages and pass them down to the front, doing the same for your classmates. Their pages crumbled with computation answers and confidently filled bubbles exposed your shortcomings. You should feel relieved that the test is over but you don’t. A heavy anchor grounded you but you were still floating. Abby met you down in your row where you saw her concealing another A-plus smirk. Once you both exited into the hall Abby’s hand finds the center of your back and she begins to pet it slowly. You shrug her away gently.

“Don’t.” You sigh.

Abby knew it would set you off but she did it anyway to show you she sees you. The blonde’s brain was moving at a rapid pace. She so deeply wanted to ask you about the challenging problems and the scenarios on the quiz. Her translucent lashes tapped frantically as she imagined the sheet of paper behind her eyes.

“I feel good about this one.” She finally says.

“Good. I really did not do well. It’s — whatever. Right?”

Abby looks to you and she couldn’t lie and tell you that it’s not just whatever. It’s your future. Both of your futures — together — it was important to Abby that her partner was just as successful as her.

“You should be happy that you did your best but understand that if you did do as bad as you think, it’s worth asking for a makeup to understand the material.” She suggested.

You hated when she got like this, rigid. Her posture was straight, her mouth set hard, and no softness found anywhere on her face. The regime her father instilled in her stayed and it was evident in moments like this.

“Abby, sometimes I really need you to just listen to me and be rational later.”

A chill followed down her spine following your sharp comment.

“Maybe we shouldn’t study together anymore.” She muttered.

Part of you wanted that to be a joke but knew it wasn’t. The night before proved itself to be deeply uneventful for the both of you.

“You’re distracting me.” You groan as you’re reviewing flashcards on Abby’s bed, the first mistake. She was wearing a thin, white tank top and a pair of loose black sweats, untied, on her hips. Her hair was drying from the shower you two just took and so was her body. The outline of her features was accentuated by the water being absorbed by the cotton. She was so casually beautiful and simply yours. The bed shifted behind you, her weight bending the mattress inwards, as she crawled towards you.

“Am I?” She asks, using the tip of her tongue to playfully lick a stripe of slick up towards your lobe. An instant bubble of relief popped inside of you. “Okay. Okay.”

Abby couldn’t take her eyes away from you. She had seen you in this robe every night now but it was something about how it was gliding with you. As well as your skin's glint from your body oil makes you look regal. You sat at the base of the bed while Abby retreated towards the headboard, leg tucked under her butt. She took off three inches of hair and it looked so fresh, carving out her face perfectly, and highlighting her stiff jawline. “How about we make a deal?” She said brazenly.

“What?”

“For each answer I get right you remove something?”

“Abby,” you chuckle, not denying her advances.

You thumb the index cards in your hand and turn to tie your eyes with hers.

“First question, the section is Anatomy and Physio. What best describes endocrine glands?” You ask.

Abby taps her chin as if she’s searching for the answer. “They secrete chemicals into the blood, growth, metabolism, sexual development and function.”

She raises her eyebrows and shoots her eyes towards your robe. A deal is a deal so you remove the silk, leaving you in your two-piece pajama set. Abby notices the goosebumps lining the outsides of your shoulders and can’t help but desire to rub them warm.

“Question number two. Anaerobic respiration can lead to a burning sensation caused by which molecule?”

“Easy,” she scuffed. “Lactic Acid.”

Her teeth appeared behind her Cheshire grin as your top found its way onto her floor.

“Good job.”

Your words made her cunt pulse.

“The mediastinum is located within which cavity?” You ask.

Abby’s face fell instantly. The outline of your nipples looked delicious and icy, she needed them in her palms immediately. “Fuck. I don’t know.”

You lift yourself off the bed and bend right in front of her to retrieve your shirt, Abby’s shadow overcame you and her hips thrust into your ass in one motion. She spins you around to face her, mouths inches away. “Do you think you’re going to actually put that back on?”

Her index finger traced the outline of your lips with her eyes following. You grip her wrist, halting her movements, “And if I do?”

Abby gently places the index cards neatly on her bedside table and presses you into the wall behind you. Usually, Abby is submissive but the stalking woman imposed her strength on you, like she’s been wanting to do from the first time she saw you in clinicals.

“I’ll just rip it off you.” She giggles.

“Would that be so bad?” You reply, bringing her finger into your mouth, sucking it then adding another. Abby huffed a keen groan as she bent down onto her knees, immediately pressing her mouth into your cunt. She lapped at the fabric separating her from you and didn’t even ask for you to remove them.

You insisted by beginning to take them off but she tore them off you and hoisting up one leg onto her shoulder following the other one.

“Abby.” You gasp.

“I got you, hold onto me.”

She was flexing her skill by fine-tuning your pussy with her tongue while she slowly hoisted you up towards the ceiling. Not only did you feel as if you were floating, you actually were. She was a show off but you fucking loved it.

After that, there was no more studying done.

“Do you think we should cut down on the time we're spending together?” You question, as the night replays in your mind.

Abby’s face scrunched up in immediate disapproval without hesitation at the suggestion. She pulled her bottom lip slightly in her mouth and looked around as if the walls suddenly grew eyes. Abby wanted to tell you no but she knew what had to be done.

“We can.” She grimaced with a shrug.

Despite all the time you spent together the girlfriend conversation had yet to come up. She thought about it the most when you were in her presence. She didn’t comprehend how you liked her so much and yet, you refused to make it official. She truly believed that once you ditched Ellie she’d be over the moon, but right now it’s feeling the same and Abby doesn’t do stagnant.

“Abby, we can still study together, in the library, several feet away from each other.”

She forced a smile. “Fine. Does this mean you’ll still sleepover?”

Before your crush on Abby developed you were denying yourself the fact that it was possible. But during this time, before the dating, your grades had been the best when you were alone, and you know for a fact, that it was because of her. You may not be as smart as Abby but you do want to come out on the other end with a degree too.

“Why don’t we come up with a schedule?” She suggests.

“That would be perfect.” You said.

The schedule consisted of dinners at Abby’s during the week, sleepovers on non-clinical days which were Wednesdays and Fridays, and studying every day at the library. Abby liked the organization but her body had gotten so used to you beside her. A week into implementing the new schedule Abby felt an immense amount of anxiety without you around. She didn’t know how to break down the feeling and why it was so persistent. Although you two were next door to each other, text messages still provided a temporary cushion for her sadness, but it wasn’t enough.

Abby clicked the icon that was the home for your name and called but there was no answer. Dinner was stewing on the stove, and in the middle of mixing a cocktail, Abby called to find out if you could taste what was missing. Another call led to another one and soon Abby was sitting with a candle flickering silently in front of her. Your plate sat untouched and she just picked at the remnants of hers.

Little did she know you were closed off in your room after studying, panicking. You knew yourself more than you wanted to. The schedule was needed for you to clear your brain on the feelings you had for Abby. With upcoming exams and graduation where would that leave you? She'd move across the world while you were huddled up in your small town's hospital circulation? It was coming in so fast and before you could mix in a girlfriend you had to know what you wanted. The pages of your journal turned soft as you tore your pen through the book.

A part of you wanted to hear the rapping of her fist against your door, ready to envelop you and reassure you that you would figure it out. She never came and because of that, a piece of you died. Conversations with her have turned short and passive since the last exam. It wasn’t just the exam it was a culmination of multiple things that either of you were ready to talk about.

Abby put your dinner into a glass container and waited outside your door trying to gain the sense to knock. One of the many nights you spent together gave her a reason to knock instead of sulk in her bed, thinking about all of her shortcomings in the relationship. You were both lying down and Abby lit a candle that night that you bought her. The sweet scent of peaches and cream cut through the bitter smell of her pine products. She loved it. Between the sheets were your naked bodies damp and lazy. Abby had brought a glass of cold ice water and set it on the nightstand beside the candle. You took turns taking sips.

“Thank you for the water.” You smiled.

“Don’t mention it,” She nudged you.

You twist your body onto your stomach and look up to her glimmering, post-sex face.

“Abby?”

“Yes, beautiful?”

“You still make me nervous.”

She cackles and brings her hand to your cheek and massages away your imperfections. With the roll of her eyes she licks her lips before curating a snarky response. But she quickly realizes you’re being serious. “Why?”

“I care so much about you and that’s something I haven’t felt before. With anyone.”

A kind pause swells between you both.

“I care about you too. I don’t want that to make you nervous.” She said.

“I know you see me differently but I am a little insecure.”

She leans down and kisses your forehead tenderly without a breath.

“That’s normal.”

“But I burrow. I distance myself when I get like that and I don’t want to subject you to that. I don’t want to hurt your feelings again. If I do that, get distant, don’t hesitate to just tell me to get out of my own head. It’s not your fault or your responsibility.”

Abby’s fist banged on the door with your words echoing in her mind. The thuds startled you out of the sleepy daze you fell under. You shuffle to the door to see the goofy blonde in her pajamas and slippers holding what was supposed to be tonights shared dinner.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Her voice was more welcoming than usual. “I was worried. Are you okay?”

Shoving her way past you and nearly tossed the container on the kitchen counter. Without hesitation she opened her arms and you couldn’t help but to run into them. Although she didn’t say anything the affirmation from her presence was enough.

“All too much in your head again aren’t you?”

A sob escaped into her chest and she gripped you tighter. These past few days have been a blunder of confusing thoughts. A part of you knew getting together with Abby would make things unclear in your life. But if she was willing to get uncomfortable and support you, you were obligated to do the same to her.

“Abby, I should’ve answered your calls.” You pull away to notice how unswayed she is of your state.

“You should have but that doesn’t matter right now. We need to talk.”

You nod your head shyly and she grips your hand and takes you to your bedroom. Abby pats beside herself to welcome you.

“I’m so scared.” You blurt out.

“Me too,”

Abby was scared for the complete opposite reason. When she was with you it seemed like all the decorative things such as school didn’t matter. She wasn’t familiar with how that felt. To have an identity outside of her accomplishments or care about someone. With you, she could flunk out of nursing school, move back to her home town, and still be satisfied. That scared her — that one person could allow her to have such a paradigm shift.

Hearing Abby say those words made your heart settle.

“I care so much about you. I didn’t think I would, this much. I should’ve known because on orientation when I saw you I thought, ‘I need to know who she is’ and I am grateful for that thought blossoming into my mind.”

You couldn’t muster any other word but her name. She picked up your hands to bring them into her lap. She leaned in to place a soft kiss on your mouth and lingered there with her forehead pressed against yours.

“When you moved next door, I just thought maybe this is the sign I need to do something different. To not let my ambitions lead me but instead my heart. And my heart loves you, Dummy.”

#abby anderson smut #abby smut #abby anderson x you #abby x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #lesbian #abby anderson #abby tlou

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writingoddess1125 · 8 months

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Modern AU Buggy X Reader

Buggy x GnReader

Just fluffy Headcanon!

• Buggy is the leader of a budget theater group that he spends nights writing or getting his people to practice for local shows- during the day however he has his own Boat Charter company and a second business of a delivery company.

• Has Rhinophyma and Roseaca which is why his nose is so large and red. Hates it and has been to so many dermatologist to get it fixed- but due to blood flow and other things will have it for life.

• Has a deep anger towards his half brother Shanks- He feels like their mentor Gol D Roger's who owned a large shipping company when he died it should have been Shanks who owned the shop to keep the legacy alive. Buggy would have been willing to follow Shanks if he did this since he knew he cohldnt- But Shanks ended up just leaving town and Buggy trying to keep it together before it finally went belly up.

• Secretly wanted to be an actor but never got the chops for it due to his nose-

• When you first meet Buggy its at one of the plays, it's a fun improve night. While not many people are there you go with some friends since you found the tickets online.

• You're one of the few people that actually play along with the act and seem to be enjoying themselves. Instead of half drunk college students that got the tickets off groupon-

• He has you come down to the stage and does a whole improve act with you, Being such a good sport you end up helping him get the crowd more engaged.

• Buggy invites you to do shows with him which you agree to. Hum giving you his number in exchange

• Showing up every Thursday to the improv nights and you start becoming friends with his theater group. Noticing how Buggy seemed much happier as you got along with everyone-

• After a few months he works up the courage to ask you out on a date, which you gladly accept.

• At first he tries to take you to the most expensive places but when you express he doesn't have to spend money to show he lives you- He gets more creative and thoughtful.

• Walks through the beach, coffee dates, going to musicals together.

• His favorite are movie nights, He will show off his limited cooking skills aka Hot Dogs and a assortment of junk food while the two of you watch mostly terrible F Tier movies together.

- "Which one did you find?" You call out from the kitchen getting some soda for yourself and Buggy.

"It's called Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter {OP note: This is a real movie- absolutely awful}" Buggy yelled out, laughing at just the name as you jump onto the big couch and hand him his drink as he eats some chips.

"That sounds absolutely awful" You say, looking at the cheap movie cover and reading the back with a snort. Buggy nods, patting himself on the back for finding such garbage.

"It truly is, I've outdone myself" He says proudly before the two of you start the terrible adventure. Having to pause the movie at times for laughing so damn hard-

"This is so bad!" You say as you laugh and roll on the floor- Buggy no better. However he wiped the tears from his eyes as he caught his breath.

"While we can laugh at least he made a movie-" He pointed out with a shrug, you sitting next to him and raising a eyebrow at the oddly kind words from Buggy.

"What do you mean?"

"I always wanted to make a movie- But I doubt anyone would watch them.. they barely watch my shows" He muttered, his insecurities getting to him as he subconsciously touched his nose. You reaching over and grabbing his hand quickly, kissing his lips to snap him from his terrible thoughts.

"What are you talking about?! I think your shows are great and I know you'd do a fantastic job making a movie!" You proclaimed loudly with a smile, your Boyfriend turning and staring hard at you.

He stares at you- like youd said the craziest thing ever. You feeling a creep of worry going up your back at how he was looking at you

"What is your ring size?" He finally ask and gestures to your ring finger making you blush deeply red.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #modern buggy #buggy thoughts #op buggy #buggy headcanons

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itsss4t4n · 6 months

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Mi Vida - Leo Valdez x fem!reader

Request? Yes @nothankyou543

"Can you do Connor Stoll or Leo Valdez x fem reader just cuddling in the morning after they wake up "

warnings: none, one kiss, no use of Y/n, spanish swear words, bad spanish

a/n: Firstly sorry this took a few days, i had a lot of school stuff this week and i also forgot how hard writing actually is. The spanish in this fic is mostly google translated so i apologize if something is wrong. And again english isnt my first lanuage.

"Mierda!"

You groan slightly and try to push further into the mattress. The quiet clanging and clinking of metal apruptly stops for a few seconds.

When you dont make another sound or move ,the noise starts up again.

Without moving, you slightly open your eyes to peer over at Leos desk. There he sits, still in his spiderman pyjamas, probably working on a new invention. His desk is full of small metal pieces. Bronze cogs, rods and plates are strewn all over and its impossible to make out what he is currently working on.

Your eyes shift to the bronze alarm clock, that Leo built 2 weeks ago, and you groan once again.

7.38 AM.

Leo stops his clanging once again and looks over at you.

"Good morning mi amor" His face stretches into a big smile. A smile thats not quite his almost cocky signature 'Leo smile'. Its a lot softer and filled with love. And most importantly, its exclusively reserved for you.

"Sorry, didnt mean to wake you up." his smile turns slightly more apologetic.

He gets up while wiping his hands on the already dirty rag that hangs of the back of his chair.

"Its fine", you grumble while turning over onto your back, "Why are you up this early?"

Smiling sheepishly Leo climbs back into bed, clumsily hitting his shin on the bedframe while doing so. A small yelp leaves his lips, making you huff out a small laugh. "Shut up" he softly shoves your head back into the pillow making you laugh more.

Leo finally gets situated as you calm down your laughing, his head proped up on his hand while his other arm sits around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"Just couldnt sleep anymore and was bored", he softly answers your question. You hum in reply, enjoying having him close to you once again. "Again sorry for waking you up, hermosa", he mumbles into your hair, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

Pressing into his touch, you once again hum. "No really, you're fine." Pullin your head away slightly you look up at him and ask "So what were you working on?"

Leo's Face lights up immediately at you showing interest in his inventions, and launches into a detailed explaination of the machine he was currently working on.

While talking Leo gesticulates wildly with the hand that was previously on your waist, the hand that previously propped his head up snaking under your head and to your back, pulling you into him again.

This was something you loved about leo: his constant need for physical touch. No matter what, he would always be touching you, whether it was holding your hand, having his hand around your waist or your shoulders , laying his hand on your knee when you where sitting next to each other or even just sitting or standing as close to you as humanly possible.

You cuddle into him again, tilting your head up to look at him, a fond smile spreading over your face.

Leo looks down at you and stops in his ramble about something not working as it should and looks at you questioningly .

"What?"

"Nothin, just admirin you, Guapo.", you aswer, makin Leo smile at the little spanish nickname. He's always loved when you used the little spanish that you knew, especially if it were terms of endearment like this.

" You're one to talk, hermosa" , he grinnes before tilting his head down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You kiss back and slightly smile into it.

Its not a long, heated kiss. Its small, soft and full of love.

When you part again, he places a small peck on the tip of you nose before cuddling back into you and pressing his face in your hair again.

"Te amo, mi vida"

"I love you too, cariño "

(translations: mierda= shit, mi amor= my love, hermosa= beautiful, guapo= handsome, cariño= darling/sweety/honey/dear, Te amo= I love you, mi vida= my life )

#leo valdez x reader #pjo x reader #reader insert #leo valdez #pjo #heroes of olympus #leo valdez x fem!reader #fluff

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hazelfoureyes · 8 days

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Could you write a short story about a trans FTM Y/N coming out to alastor?

If not I don't mind!

I'm just starting to come out to some people and want to feel validated by alastor lolll

Mon Cher

You had to start somewhere. But the issue with these kinds of conversations is there’s never a natural point in talking to bring it up…. And sitting people down can be so stressful for everyone.

But you had an opportunity.

Alastor was known for his pet names, often throwing out a dear or sweetheart.

So when he leaned against your side and asked, “Pass me that, will you ma chère?” You froze. Finally. The frustratingly gendered nature of languages was coming to your aid.

“Alastor, I’m not comfortable with being called ma chère. Can you call me mon cher?”

His face stilled, a moment of confusion. “That’s the word for males, dear.”

“Yeah. I know.” A nervous shift in your seat, “Actually, with all things. I prefer he or him and other male coded words. Those are the right words for me.”

Humans have been changing the way they were identified since humans invented ways to identify each other. Not a moment in time has there existed a point where every human language fully represented its people. Nor that every body was reflective of the soul it inherited.

So Alastor didn’t need long to adjust. He knew quite a few dapper lads in his day who had made the same request.

“Of course mon cher. May I have that pen now?”

After you handed it over he let the tip hover over his paper for a second, without looking up, “Did you want to talk anymore about things?”

After thinking for a moment, “Do you think I’ll struggle with telling the others?”

He replied as he began his work, slowly, mostly for show, “Do you want to tell them?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you won’t have an ounce of trouble. I guarantee it.” He looked up now, typically disheartening smile looking soft and gentle, “I’ll make sure of it, mon chéri*.”

Before the silence went on too long and he knew the topic would be changed he added, “Did you know Rosie makes custom suits? Quite the skilled seamstress. Perhaps we could stop by sometime. If you’d like.”

Not only had he truly meant the offer, you found telling him had brought a different kind of help. Sometimes you didn’t have to tell people at all once someone was there to set the new standard.

A day soon after came when Alastor addressed you appropriately in public, “Well that’s too bad Charlie, I need his help with some studio work.”

And the crew looked at you, and you smiled, and they smiled and the conversation would carry on as normal. The only change being a few words replaced a few others and you got a small pat on the back as Husk left the group to tend bar.

Sometimes the first steps are the hardest but get us the furthest.

Happy pride babies! made this very first steps for many people and I hope it was something you enjoyed. Apologies for the delay, i actually didn’t see this until about four days ago.

*“Mon cher” means “my dear”, said to a male person. “Ma chère” means the same, said to a female. “Mon chéri”, resp. “ma chérie”, means “my darling” or “my dearest”.

🏳️‍🌈Hazbin Masterlist🏳️‍🌈

#Alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

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chaengluva · 3 months

Text

Get Your Girl

Reneé Rapp x Fem!Reader: 1.4k: Masterlist

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You have been a huge fan of Reneé for the longest time, you have seen her on Broadway and ever since then you have been in love. You were so happy when you got tickets to her concert, you have been counting down the days to go and it has finally come, getting ready with your friend was the best feeling ever, you were so nervous knowing that you got VIP tickets, I mean, you were excited to meet her, but you were also very nervous.

The thought of it still hasn't hit yet, but you have planed what you will say to her because you really don't want to stuff it up. Your friend was currently putting putting you on your eye make up and she wasn't a big of a fan as you, so she wasn't feeling as nervous as you are right now. "You okay?" She asks it sweetly. You breath heavily "Yeah I'm okay.." she smiles, continuing your make up.

The time had finally came, you were driving to the concert, It was quite early since you wanted a good place, that was close to the front, you lined up and saw a few others (mostly lesbians) that had already started lining up. You kept practcing what you would say to Reneé, your friend helped calm you down because she could sense your nervousness.

Time passes quickly you were holding the barricade with a huge smile on your face, you were so excited you couldn't contain your energy. Time passes and Reneé finally comes on stage, you lose your shit, you can't believe see is right there. As you're singing along will all the words, you're friend taps you on the shoulder to show that Reneé is currently looking at you, you look into her eyes and you scream, making her laugh.

The show goes on quickly, but Reneé interacted with the audience a lot making sure that everyone had a good time. Its a Reneé Rapp concert, everyone will have a good time no matter what was the only thought on your mind. You were now waiting for the meet and greet you were feeling very nervous as you walked dup to her, "Hi.." you say shyly. She giggles, giving you a big hug.

You're friend is on the side, taking photos and a video of the moment, you pull out of the hug and start to talk. "I love your work so much, you inspire me with your songs and I really wish i could be as talented as you." You didn't even realise it but you were crying, Reneé noticed before you did and wiped your tears with her sleeve. "Oh my god.. I'm so sorry." you apologise for crying but she assures you that it's okay. "You're so sweet..How old are you?"

"I'm 23." (But tomorrow I turn 23-) She smiles, nodding, the photographer takes the photo and you bid your goodbyes, this moment felt so surreal and you knew you would be sad once it is all over so you cherish every single second of it, and your friend is filming it, so every time you want to watch over it you can. As you left, you were walked away with a smile on your face.

You spent the car ride back, looking over your videos and smiling at the run night you had, you posted the videos to social media, you don't have a huge platform, but you keep in public because you like to share your life with others, as soon as you posted it, you put your phone down and talked to your friend, who was happy for you. As soon as you got home, you went straight to bed.

You wake up with many notifications from Instagram, you look at it very confused, you check to see that not only did your post go viral but Reneé Rapp had commented, your hands were shaking as you read her comment.

"Such as sweet girl."

You were a happy she said girl rather then fan, it made you feel better. You liked the comment and got ready to think of a reply but that was when you got an even more shocking notification. Reneé Rapp had messaged you, at that point in time your friend was still asleep, you were to focussed on this to wake her up, you open the message and you can feel your jaw get wider as you read it.

"Never in my life have I met a fan that was sweet and as caring as you, (or as pretty) the way you talked to me makes me want to get to know you more, we could start through texts or I could take you out, I don't really mind." - Reneé.

Was Reneé asking you out? Did Reneé just call you pretty? You had so much questions running through your head, the whole thing was to hard to think straight, so you texted back without thinking.

"I'd prefer to go out :)"

Shit. What if she thinks you desperate? I mean she did ask you but what if this isn't her? your train of thoughts got cut off from the notification sound of her texting back. She said to meet at a certain location at 6pm. It was already 11am, you only had 7 hours to get ready. You hoped out of bed at the speed of light, hoping in the shower, making sure to wash your hair and shave your legs.

An hour had already passed and you were out of the shower, drying your hair, once you finish you go back into the room and see that you friend is finally staring to wake up. "What are you rushing for?" You're friend askes you, her eyes adjusting to the light. "Oh.. I have a date.." You mumble. Her eyes went wide. "Really, with who?"

You look down, knowing she wouldn't believe you, looking back into her eyes you say, "Reneé..." She laughs, rolling her eyes, waiting for you to say who you are going on a date with, but it never came, she looks into your eyes, "You're serious," you nod, throwing your phone to her, she catches it and reads the chat and her eyes went wide and a big smile appaired on her face.

You got ready for the date, you didn't wear anything way to fancy because you weren't exactly sure if it was a date or not. You just wore a black mini dress with nude coloured heels, Your friend dropped you off and you waited for Reneé, you smiled when you saw her, she was wearing black pants and a cream coloured blouse. "Hi," She smiled.

"Hi," You blushed, she smiled at you, giving you a small hug, looking at you up and down, "You look really pretty.." She smiles, "you do too." She smiles and you walk in to the place, she opens the door for you, and pulls out your chair.

You get to know each other more, Reneé is a really good listener, you love the way she looks at you when you tell her about something. You also listen to her, you found out some things that you would have never guessed about her.

"My friend was so shocked when she found out we were going on a date with you.." You tell her, she gives you a confused look before saying, "Date?"

You face goes read out of embarrassment, you try to think of some words to say, you just feel so embarrassed, "Y/n, it's okay, I was just kidding," She giggles, grabbing your hand, you take a deep breath and calm down, "Of course it's a date," You blush, she's so handsome.

The date came to an end and Reneé told you that she would drive you home, so you told your friend that. As she pulled up into your drive way, as you were about to leave the car, she held your hand, "I had a good time tonight, I really want to go out again,"

You nod, you look into her eyes and see that see is staring at your lips, you look at hers, she puts her hand on your cheek and pulls you in for a kiss, the kiss is nothing big just a light kiss against the lips, perfect for the first kiss.

You pulled away, she looked into your eyes and smiled. You said goodbye, and finally left, Reneé made sure that you were in the house before driving off. As soon as you got inside your friend was on the couch. "Tell me everything!"

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#gxg #mean girls 2024 #regina george #reneé rapp #wlw #leighton murray #mean girls #lesbian #fluff #renee rapp #femreader #reneéxreader

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serene-destruction · 4 months

Note

Oh! Listen I love Husk and I need him to have more love! Maybe a Fem!Reader x Husk x Angel. Angel Dust and Reader would be a qpr quite obviously, just besties who want to give love to a grumpy cat. Other than that I give you creative freedom!

The first request! Just for future reference, my stories are gender neutral unless otherwise plot relevant. Anyways, enjoy!

I Could Get Used To You

(GN) Reader x Husker x (Queer Platonic)Angel Dust

TW: drunkenness, vague mentions of past trauma.

Work count: 5.6k

Summary: Life in hell isn't an easy one, but it's a lot easier to get through it when you find people to care about.

You and Angel had known of each other for quite some time, given that he had often attended the bar you worked at in his early years in hell. Despite how aggressively flirtatious he was you didn't mind him as much as some of the other regulars. He at least had the restraint to make those comments in between sets or after the show. You spent the first few months mostly ignoring him, as you did with all the other patrons. That became harder, though, when he had decided to see you after the show.

“Heya sweetheart!” he called out to you as you left the bar. You rolled your eyes and held your coat a little tighter, hoping that hiding your body might get him to leave you the hell alone. You had a rough night filled with drunken idiots disrupting your show with their shameless attempts to touch you and you certainly didn't need his comments to top it all off.

“Say what you want then leave me the hell alone” you nearly growled out your words. It was hard to stay composed after having spent hours keeping that fake smile for the crowd.

“Woah! Got it, bad night” he held his hands up in a show of surrender.

“Just wanna talk” he explained, his smile a little less cocky than when he made his usual comments at the bar. Truthfully it had caught you a little off guard, considering how you had ascribed total arrogant confidence to him. So you let out a sigh, motioning him to walk with you. You just simply didn't feel like arguing and you were pretty confident that he was mostly talk. Something you could easily placate until you made it back home.

“Just to be clear, if you lay a single one of those hands on me I'm cutting all of them off” you warn and he flashes a bright, teasing smile.

“Kinky~” his voice was sing-songy as he spoke. You crossed your arms, glared, and hoped he got the point.

“Right, right. I won't touch ya” he agreed and you were able to grow a little more comfortable. Still, you remained on guard.

“Names Angel by the way” he sounded so sure of himself as he spoke, a set of hands held on his hips in a show of confidence. He had only just started his career back then, his fame in its early stages. It wasn't a surprise when you didn't recognize it.

“Y/n. Though I'm sure you already knew that” your words held an edge, your tense posture clear. But he simply nodded along.

“Yeah. Still a nice name though” his smile widened a little and, despite the minor disdain you had started with, you could see him already growing on you.

“Right…any particular reason you decided to talk to me tonight of all nights? I've seen you around the bar for a while now” you questioned him, rather curious about why exactly now of all times he wanted to suddenly meet you.

“I just wanted to let ya know you did good tonight. I get how much of a bummer pricks messin’ with your show can be.” the genuine compliment surprised you so much that you're silent for a moment. A moment too long apparently as he speaks again.

“If it means anything it was one’a my favorites so far” At that you turned and searched for some sort of humor in his eyes, maybe something that said he was lying. But when there wasn't anything you finally returned his smile with a weary one.

“Glad you enjoyed it” you took the compliment, though you still didn’t fully believe that he was being truthful. It was rare someone ever complimented you to start with, but you had yet to have someone do so without an ulterior motive.

“And y’know, that happens again tomorrow and I'll personally knock ‘em around for you, yeah?” his smile turned into a grin and you couldn't help the short laugh that left at his expression.

“If you feel so inclined. Though if anyone asks, I told you to leave the poor sods alone” you tried to make it clear that you definitely weren't supposed to be harming the clientele with how dramatic the last part of the sentence was. Luckily he seemed to get the point.

“Course. They've been gettin’ on my nerves anyway” you couldn't help but agree.

The two of you continue on with your conversation, getting to know a bit about each other's lives on the short walk. Despite his behavior at the bar, he was actually surprisingly personable one-on-one. He had a kind of natural charisma with a bit of faint genuine kindness. It was, frankly, one of the better conversations you had since you fell into hell. But all good things always come to an end. This time it was because you stopped your feet outside your residence.

“It was nice getting to actually meet you Angel” he stopped with you and you could have sworn you caught the faintest glimpse of his smile falling.

“It was nice meetin’ you too. You workin’ tomorrow?” His question surprises you a bit, but you answer anyway.

“When am I not working” you rolled your eyes, your exhaustion now easy to see. His look turned sympathetic.

“If that ain't the truth. See you tomorrow then?” He begins to walk away but stays turned to you for a response with his hand held in a finger gun motion. You can't help the bit of genuine smile that peeks through.

“As always” you answer before finally tucking into your apartment building.

You and Angel only got closer over the coming years. He would walk you home from your shows from time to time and you would entertain him with whatever story you had of the nights when he was too busy to show up. You too bonded over work and he even offered to be a dancer a few times just to rake in some more attention and get you enough to finally move up from that shit hole. But you always kindly refused, not looking for the increasing fame he carried with him.

Eventually you two even started hanging out in other places. Granted they were always other run-down shit holes given he didn't particularly want the paparazzi and fans that came from his job, but you two always seemed to make the most of it, keeping your friendship on the down low.

Until, one night, he stopped showing up.

You had become increasingly concerned after a month of him just up and disappearing. You were worried something had happened or maybe that his psychotic boss was pulling away even more of his already limited freedom. But then he showed up after one of your shows, face guilt-ridden when you went near frantic.

You were already yelling out question after question at him. Where has he gone? Was he okay? Did something happen? He had to calm you down before explaining that he had moved. You were so incredibly proud knowing that he was finally removing even just a part of himself from the work that had begun to be his entire life, though you were still a bit upset that he hadn't told you sooner.

But then he made you an offer you weren't expecting.

“You know, the hotel has an open doors rule and uh…well I was hopin’ you might…”

“Join you?” You finish the sentence for him. He turned to you with a look more nervous than you've ever seen from him.

“Look I know the place ain't exactly the best- the whole redemption thing’s a joke- but y'know I think you could get a job down there! Get away from all…all of this. Plus, y’know, I'd get to see you more often and-”

“Sounds like a plan” you stop his rambling with your answer and he turns to you with an almost bewildered look.

“Really? You sure?” He couldn't believe you would agree so quickly. You laughed at that.

“A chance to leave this shitty life behind and live with my best friend? Why would I say no? Especially if you like the place enough to recommend it” You lightheartedly shoved him and he almost gleamed with joy, his prior nervousness nothing but a thought now.

“Well shit. I thought I was gonna have ta try a lot harder than that. Had a whole pitch and everything!” he spoke with a laugh and you couldn't help but join in the joy.

You had to say the first few months at the hotel had been rough. For one, your boss didn't like the idea of you quitting very much. You were half the reason he made any money to begin with and he wasn't about to let you go so easily. So for a while you had been harassed and once nearly even killed before Alastor went and ‘dealt with this little problem of yours’. Though you suspected it was only because your boss had sent people to attack the hotel itself and less that he cared about you in any capacity.

You had managed to get a job at the hotel like Angel had said, though you felt more like a resident since there weren't ever enough people to warrant a show. But it had been more than once you were able to lift spirits with a performance, so you did still get paid. It was nice not having to work as much.

Though you would have to say, out of all the other strange people and events here, the bartender was the one that caught your eye the most. A right asshole he was, but there was still a charm he had. You two mostly only had some idle chit-chat, but Angel seemed to be getting pretty close to him, especially after he had one of his rougher nights that you hadn't been around for. Which meant you talked to the cat demon more. Never really one on one, but still you grew to see why your friend seemed so comfortable around him. He was easy to talk to. You mostly saw him as a friend of a friend though. Maybe even a good acquaintance if you wanted to push it.

But then there was that night…

Two in the morning and you still couldn't get a single wink of sleep. Tossing and turning and general frustration simply wouldn't allow you.

You couldn't get it out of your head. It had been so long since the memories had been allowed to invade your mind like they did tonight. Your skin crawled as if it wanted to escape you and if you could you would let it. You felt utterly trapped as it clung to you. Like the only escape from it was to dissolve into nothing.

You knew why the memories had come back swinging, all too aware that it was such a stupid thing to have opened that old wound. All Charlie had done was pull you to the new activity she was so excited to share. But her hands dragged you and made it impossible to pull away and when you made it to that room all the eyes fell on you. It was horrifyingly familiar in a way that it shouldn't have been. You had wanted to disappear right then.

Yet you didn't speak up and instead let her do as she pleased, knowing that it was such a mundane thing that you shouldn't have let upset you like it did. You felt childish at having let the event ruin your night, at letting the entire situation dig itself into old scars. But still, you just couldn't stop the dread it built within you. You couldn't stop that clawing feeling of trying to escape your own body. Of escaping the phantom feeling of drag and pull and the expecting eyes that felt almost as if they'd burn you alive.

It didn't take long before the feeling began to sting your eyes with tears. It was at that point you knew there would be no sleeping tonight. So you finally gave up trying, sitting up in your bed as you wiped away the tears that hadn't been given the chance to fall. You quickly composed yourself, as you were just so great at doing by this point, and tossed on a warm robe before leaving your room. You glance at Angel's door when you do.

You contemplate for a brief moment if you should wake him, though you quickly decide against it. He was tired enough as it was with the shit he had to deal with on the daily, he didn't need you keeping him up on top of that. So you turned down the hall, making sure to remain quiet so as not to disturb anyone.

You needed a distraction, something to get your mind off everything. To numb that horrible feeling. You find that nothing calls your name quite like the sound of a drink and so you navigate the many halls until you find yourself at the hotel bar.

As you suspected, the place was barren and silent. You have no problem getting behind the bar and making your own drink as it most certainly wasn't your first time. You note that you should probably try to keep the place tidy while you're at it, but decide that you'll do so after you enjoy the sweet relief at the bottom of a glass.

And, for a few short moments, you do. The warm, burning feeling spreads through your chest and purges the shivers right on out of you. But it doesn't last after the drink is finished and the silence truly sets in. So you pour yourself another, trying to chase any semblance of peace.

“Can't sleep?” A voice asks from behind you, nearly scaring you off of the barstool as you whip around to see who it was. You're surprised to see Husk of all people, even more surprised to see something that might resemble concern show on him. But you soon calm, giving a nod to him before turning back around.

“Nope…you too?” You ask, catching him rounding his way to the other side of the bar as you do.

“I prefer nights. A lot more peaceful, especially in this place” you acknowledge his comment with a hum before turning back to nursing your drink.

There is a silence between the two of you for a good few minutes. He cleans around for a while and you try to let your emotions leave you with every sip. It isn't long before you poor a third and you try to ignore the fact that this isn't helping.

It's when you go to pour your fourth drink that he stops what he's doing. You try to ignore him and whatever he's deciding to do with his time, but it becomes harder when he leans on the bar in front of you.

“That’s not gonna help you” He states plainly, your eyes turning to glance at him. There's a brief moment where you attempt to pull your facade back up. Where you try to tug your lips into a smile and choke out any words that would deter his potential questions. But it is exhausting and you are already beyond tired. So instead you hang your head.

“I know…was just hoping I'd be wrong” your words are quiet and mumbled, a far cry from your usually quite loud and charismatic self. It makes your insides twist to have let yourself be seen like this.

“Do you wanna talk about why you're up so late?” His question makes you swallow thickly, hands gripping tighter on the glass in your hand. Another few moments of silence pass that seem almost like an eternity under his stare. It takes a while for you to find any words in this state.

“It’s not worth your time” you manage the sentence, eyes fixated on the honey color of your chosen liquor. You hear him sigh, taking a step back as he pours his own drink.

“I'm the one who's askin’. If I waste my time that's my own damn fault” you don't like how hard it is for you to find the meaning in his tone. You can't tell if he's being dismissive or trying to comfort you. So you settled on answering with silence once more. You hear him sigh before he rounds the bar again.

“Look, tell me or don't tell me, but I at least want to hear you say something” this time you do hear an attempt to be genuine. He takes a seat beside you and you finally turn to look at him again. His eyes expect nothing, a rare sight for you. It's…comforting. You aren't sure if it was you or the alcohol talking, but you could have even been able to delude yourself into thinking that he cared. You look away again when you feel that false comfort begins to wrap you. You find your tongue beginning to slip.

“I…” you start and suddenly it's like your insides churn. You put nearly everything into stopping the pull of tears.

“It's just a bad night for me, is all. I…I’m not really used to this” you finally let the words fall and you can't bring yourself to look at him. You don't want to know how he's reacting to your words. You don't want to see just how little he actually cares.

“Used to what, exactly?” he pries further, asking for more. The flood gates were already open and there was no use in trying to shut them now.

“The way everyone is just so comfortable with each other- the way that I almost feel comfortable. It was easy with Angel; both of us in the same shit situation with no one else to lean on but each other. But nobody needs something from me here, nobody's trying to take anything- they don't want anything! And it- I just-...” your hands shake, your breath becoming unsteady. It's been so long since you felt this pathetic.

“I don't think I'm supposed to be here” you admit as your voice wavers. You try to steady your breath and calm yourself. It wasn't safe to be this vulnerable, it was stupid.

“I get it” his words stop your thoughts immediately. You're left reeling from the whiplash and expecting that he must have grown a second head that speaks only lies. But it's just him as he stares down at his now half-empty drink, no second head in sight. There's a look of contemplation on his face that you can see even as he keeps his eyes on the glass. A moment later he speaks again.

“When you've spent so long getting used to people treating you like shit it can be hard to accept when someone doesn't. Makes it feel like they're lyin’, like they're just waitin’ for the moment to hurt you the worst” his words quickly hit a deep part of you, knocking at known insecurities you had long since buried as deep as you could.

“Makes you paranoid too, always checking your back for snakes. Gets harder to believe anyone; harder to care about anyone a lot of the time. And so you stop caring, and suddenly it stops hurting as much” his continued words only dug deeper, tugging away at your walls like they were wet paper. When his eyes finally meet yours again you are surprised to see them soften. There isn't pity in them, nor a look that makes you feel as childish as you felt before talking to him. Instead, you are met with a knowing stare, one that says he understands this feeling all too well.

“But the thing is that doesn't mean you feel any better. Makes the suffering pointless if you don't try to let the good in too. You gotta make it mean something” he doesn't look away from you as he says those words and you can't bring yourself to turn away either. You don't want to. Because he's saying everything you needed to hear and you can't find any reason not to trust that he doesn't know exactly how this feels. That he isn't speaking directly from the heart. Your dread turns to a sinking sort of comfort. The kind only broken people could give when they reach out and pull each other from the dark. It's the most seen you've ever felt.

You feel the tears finally well in your eyes but you can't help but smile at him, a sad laugh escaping you.

“Of all the people I expected to give me a pep talk I gotta say, you weren't even on the list” you finally speak again and there is no hiding that he's hit something deep within you.

“Of all the fucked up people here, I didn't expect you would need anyone to talk to” He offers the same smile as he hand you a napkin. You take it without complaint and quickly calm your tears with deep breaths, wiping away the strays that fell. There's a short moment of silence, but it doesn't feel as suffocating anymore. In fact you almost feel a strange comfort in it now that it doesn't feel so empty. Still, you knew you should probably say something.

“You know, uh…” you break the silence as you once again turn to your drink, this time far less focused on ignoring him as much as you were trying to compose yourself enough to speak. At the very least you're able to steady your voice.

“Angel and I were going to head out tomorrow. I don't think he'd mind if you came…if you're free, of course” you invited him but didn't catch the way his smile widened at the request.

“I can't guarantee anything, but I’m not declining” his maybe is better than a no, so you don't particularly mind his answer. In fact you can feel your own smile soften at it.

Since then the three of you have been near inseparable. At any given part of the day at least two of you are off doing something with each other. It's nice, you think, to have people this close to you, to have a reason to care again. The three of you look out for each other and It's the closest you've ever gotten to stability in your life. At this point, you don't think you'd trade it for anything.

Which is why when you start to develop feelings for Husk, you are utterly horrified.

You know him and Angel have…something going on. You know they're not together as you know you would have been the first to know, but you've also never seen Angel smile the way he does when he's around the winged demon. You would say the same for Husk, but you've caught him sending the same soft smile to you once or twice and you honestly can't tell if it's your lovestruck daze or if those smiles are what you think they are.

Your emotions are a spiraling mess within you. You care so much for both of them. You'd live through a thousand hells if it meant you'd have them around. The absolute last thing you want is to fuck this up.

So you choose to say nothing. You bottle your feelings and throw them in the garbage. As far as you were concerned being in their afterlives at all was good enough. You wouldn't risk it.

However, it became hard during nights like these. When you all were giddy off alcohol, conversation flowing through wide smiles and every touch as gentle as it could ever be. It was the definition of home, a place where you were the most comfortable you could possibly be. Your tongue loose and your actions anything but hidden. Your care poured from you openly and only so much could be blamed on the alcohol.

“I fucking love you guys” the words fell shamelessly from you. Granted you were pretty fucked up by this point as you tried to keep up with them, but it wasn't more than you could reasonably handle without blacking out. They both turned to you, inebriated smiles sending themselves your way.

“Love you too, sweetheart” Angel returned, one of his hands patting your head, a wider smile spreading on your face as he did. You leaned against the bar, your head propped up by one of your hands as you turned to Husk. You just barely notice the way he leaned ever so slightly closer. But he says nothing and you can't help but feel like you deserve at least an acknowledgement of your words from him.

“I'd be happy to show you if you don't believe me” the words slipped and once more you didn't notice what you were saying. You do, however, catch his eyes widen, pupils dilating a bit. When he continues to say nothing you roll your eyes and pull back just slightly. You don't catch the way he almost follows you before he pulls himself back, nor the stare Angel is giving from beside you.

“One of these days I'll get you to say it back” you speak before downing yet another shot. You miss the quick glance they give to each other.

“It’s getting late. We should probably head to bed” Angel suggests as he stands.

“Really?” You whine mostly to yourself.

“You two go ahead. I have to clean up anyway” Husk gives his excuse and you groan but ultimately agree to the end of your night. You take one of Angel's hands as the both of you begin your stumble down the halls. The two of you are a giggling mess against each other, nearly falling about twenty separate times, but you do eventually make it to your room. You quickly notice that he hesitates on his goodbyes though.

“Hey uh, can we…talk?” He asks and, though you are a bit surprised it doesn't show.

“Of course!” You agree, opening your door and allowing him inside your room. You make it to your bed where you both quickly sit, unable to stand unsupported for long.

“What's up?” You ask, bleary eyes turning to him. You have to admit you're a little worried, but you hope that whatever he wants to talk about isn't too serious.

“You and Husk are gettin’ pretty close” his words don't strike you at first, so you give him a smile.

“Yeah. Same for you” you comment and watch a wave of confusion hit him.

“What?” He seems to almost not Believe the words that have left you and it takes you a moment to realize why.

“Oh come on Angel, don't tell me you haven't noticed how he looks at you! With that little smile of his- and don't you think I've missed you staring either! You two are absolutely thirsty for each other” Your voice is louder than you notice. When he quickly tries to quiet you down you fall back onto your bed with a laugh, trying to escape his hands. He continues to reach out anyway and so you pull him down with you, eventually sending the both of you into another giggle fit.

“Could say the same for you” Angel speaks through his laugh, though there is a hesitance to it. You can't hide the way the implication catches you.

“You think so?” You ask cautiously, almost worried as you turn to look at him, his body beside yours.

“Yeah…Yeah I do” he replies just as slowly, the air in the room becoming tense in the sudden silence. It was a longer silence than you would have liked, both of you turning your eyes to the ceiling in contemplation of the words you both had spoken.

After a moment Angel sits up a bit, just enough to lean his head against his hand and look down at you.

“I love him. Like a whole fuckin’ lot and…I love you too. You’re the best friend I could’a eva asked for in this shithole” he admits and you can't tear your eyes from him. He, however, can't bear to look at you.

“And I was hopin', maybe, if you'd like ta…well if you'd wanna share him with me. If he even does feel that way about us” the words leave his lips ever so carefully and you can't help the wide smile that breaks across your face, all your previous worry disappearing. You reach a gentle hand out, his eyes finally turning back to yours when it lands on his face.

“I'd love that” you let the words leave and watch as he lights up, smile soft and worry dissipating by the second. Then suddenly an idea pops into your head, a mischievous smile crawling to your lips.

“Oh no, I know that look. What are you plannin’?” He asks, amusement overtaking any attempts to look worried. You quickly sat up, pulling him along with you.

“Well Mr. Grouchy Pants likes to walk by my door whenever he needs extra cleaning rags and personally I think he should be going to bed” you explain as you stand on still shaky legs. Angel doesn't seem to catch on for a moment before suddenly realizing what you mean.

“You ain't gonna do that” Angel says oh so confidently. He must have failed to account for how much bolder you are when drunk, because you most definitely plan to. In fact you hear stumbling feet making their way right about now. So you open the door, catching the attention of a certain winged cat almost immediately.

“Still working?” you ask. He has to blink a few times to catch up with the situation and you know then that drank a bit more after you guys left.

“Yeah” he answers simply. A moment later Angel is behind you, peaking out as well. He leans two arms against you for balance and Husk gives both of you a look.

“You ain't makin’ it down the hall like that. You look like you're about ta pass out” Angel points out and Husk turns back to him, almost offended.

“I'm not that drunk, sweetheart” the nickname catches you off guard and Husk seems just as surprised at what just came out of his own mouth.

“Oh? We’re doing pet names now kitty?” you tease a little and he looks utterly floored by the nickname. It sends a grin across Angel's face.

“Yeah kitten, since when did that happen?” Angel's voice is even more teasing than yours and Husk seems completely out of his depth. Every word he tries to speak dies before it leaves his lips. Eventually, he tips his hat down and tries to leave.

“I gotta go to bed-” before he gets too far you manage to snag one of his suspender straps, gently pulling him back a bit. He follows, knowing he would probably fall if he didn't.

“You should stay with us for the night” you offer and watch as his eyes shoot wider than you've ever seen them. He goes to speak but you cut him off before he can say a word.

“Mind out of the gutter. We’re just going to sleep’” you clarify and hear Angel whine a bit. You quickly nudge him and he stops, accepting that there would be nothing else tonight. But, while Husk's face seems a little less horrified, he still hesitates.

“Please?” You ask in as sweet a tone as you can manage. You watch as he uses the last of his resolve to attempt to answer no, but when Angel leans down near you and offers the same pleading look, he simply can't.

“Fine” he mumbles out with his arms crossed. Without a word you tug him inside, the door shutting as the three of you stumble your way back. Each one of you managed to bump or knock the others at least once as you all did your best to make it into bed.

At some point you and Angel are on the bed and Husk is still hesitating to follow. He's only allowed a moment before Angel reaches out and pulls him, his body landing heavily on the two of you with the strings of curses that follow. You all struggled to find your spots, moving and squirming to get comfortable. Your blankets are tossed and tugged to cover the three of you until, finally, you all seem to all be covered. It's then that idle talk arrives, slurred attempts at conversation that distract long enough for you all to get comfortable.

It wasn't a surprise Husk ended up in the middle, the two of you shamelessly cuddling up to him on either side. He's a bit tense for a while, but when he does allow himself to calm down and relax he is a purring mess; a sound that is only intensified when you absentmindedly pet the fluff on his head. Eventually all of you become quiet, eyes heavy with a need for sleep and the most comfortable you all have ever been. It's during this, moments away from drifting off, that husk manages two words.

“Love you” he slurs out, but to who neither you are Angel are sure. So instead you take it as a sentiment meant for both of you. You lay a soft kiss against his head before snuggling closer and Angel does the same.

You could definitely get used to this.

#hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel angel dust x reader #angel dust x reader #angel dust #husker #husker x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel husker #hazbin hotel gender neutral reader #angel dusk & reader

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merrybloomwrites · 5 months

Text

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 1)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Y/N attends her first Harry Styles concert and catches the unwanted attention of a knothead alpha. Luckily Harry and his team are able get to you in time, leading to some confusing thoughts about the popstar.

Previous Chapters: Prologue

CW: Attempted assault (nothing too graphic but it is there)

Word Count: 4.7k

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“What do you mean you can’t go?” You ask incredulously. Going to the concert wasn’t even your idea. It was your friend Rachel’s and now she’s ditching you.

There’s a pause on the other end of the call before Rachel says, “It’s my dog. Well, my family dog that we’ve had since I was in middle school. She’s not doing well, and they think she only has a couple days left so now I have to drive back to Delaware to see her and say goodbye.”

“Oh my god, Rach, I’m so sorry!” And now you feel like a jerk for being mad at her canceling.

“Thanks. We knew it was coming but I hoped we had a few more weeks. Uhm, anyway, I need to finish packing and get on the road.”

“Of course, yea, safe trip home,” you quickly reply.

“You better take some videos of the concert and send them to me. Especially if he does something different for night one at MSG!”

“Rachel, I’m not gonna have any idea if he’s doing stuff different from his last shows, as I have no idea what his shows are like. But I promise to send you a couple videos, okay?”

“Still can’t believe you haven’t watched any videos from tour. What rock do you live under again?” You laugh at her teasing, mostly cause it’s true. The fact that you’ve made it this far without knowing much about Harry Styles surprises even you. “Have fun for both of us tonight,” Rachel says.

“I will, give your dog a belly rub from me. Love you!”

“Love you too, bye!”

The call ends and you sit for a moment. You don’t really want to go to a concert alone, but that’s what your night now has in store. Rachel had tried calling some other people in your friend group, but they were all busy. You’d also texted your two best friends, Amelia and Violet, but it was too last minute for them to change plans and go with you.

So, alone it is.

You look at the outfit you had planned but decide against it. The leather pants and crop top ensemble isn’t exactly in your comfort zone, but Rachel chose it and wanted the two of you to match. Now that you’re on your own you switch to a pair of jean shorts with tights underneath and a flowy top, something you’re much more comfortable with. Harry’s music plays in the background while you get ready. You’d been studying the setlist to make sure you would know at least some of the songs he’ll perform. You’re happy when you find yourself singing along, showing that listening on repeat had worked.

After getting dressed you do your hair and makeup, then drive to your local train station. Living in north Jersey has its perks, and the quick train ride directly to Madison Square Garden might just be the biggest.

You get off the train and follow the trail of feathers from the boas which leads you directly to the venue. You show your ticket and are led to the entrance for the pit.

Being in the pit had also been Rachel’s idea. You’d never done that before, and you would have preferred somewhere with a seat, and honestly a better view from a higher vantage point. But you’d agreed to pit and in the weeks leading to the show you’d actually become excited to experience something new.

But now that you’re alone, you’re a bit overwhelmed. You’re one of the last people to arrive, since it’s only half an hour before the opener is set to start, so you end up hanging in the back. But even then, the large amount of people around you has you on edge.

Being a single female is hard. Guys are always hitting on women, feeling entitled to your company, not taking no for an answer. But being a single female omega is even harder. The way you see it betas have it easy, especially since they’re the majority. And alphas? Well, what do they have to worry about? They’re bigger, they’re stronger, they have their alpha voices that can command you and take away your free will if they want. Plus, they have an unmatched sense of superiority, thinking they’re so special just because of their secondary gender.

But you’re an omega. Often considered to be the weakest gender. Which is stupid. You’re the gender that gives birth, which takes way more strength than alphas could ever possess. And yet you’re still looked down upon by plenty of people in society.

So, you choose to hide your secondary gender. Only your family members plus Ameila and Violet know the truth. You don’t need anyone judging you based on one little trait.

Going out in public, especially at places as crowded as MSG always gives you anxiety. You never know if a knothead alpha is going to be there and literally sniff you out as an omega. But you trust your suppressants and soothers and, most importantly, your scent blockers, to do their jobs and hide your omega status from the strangers around you.

The pills have never failed in you in the eight years since you started taking them. You have no reason to doubt them now.

And yet, you can’t help but feel uneasy about the attention a certain man in the crowd is giving you. He is undoubtedly an alpha, one that for sure does not use scent blockers. In fact, you’re almost convinced he’s doing something to broadcast his scent, somehow make it even stronger. It’s an unpleasant odor, one that practically burns your nose, but you pretend you can’t smell it. Afterall, a beta wouldn’t be able to notice the scent.

But as much as you try to ignore the scent, going so far as to move to the entire other side of the pit, it still lingers. Because you are most definitely being followed. Seemingly casual glances at the crowd around you shows that the man has moved with you.

Going closer to the stage is the last thing you want to do, but getting deeper in the crowd might be what you need to shake off the man. The girls around you gladly welcome you and make space for you to join. A moment later the opening act starts to play, and you no longer smell the alpha. You’re relieved and get into the music for a few minutes.

Then the girls around you start to move, and you hear them say something about the bathroom. You decide to go with them since you could use a bathroom break and there will be safety in numbers. You keep your head down and casually follow, in hopes that the man won’t see you leaving the crowd.

Only once in the bathroom do you lift your head up. There’s a small line since most people are out listening to the first band. A moment later it’s your turn and you enter the stall. After using the restroom, you notice a large rip in your tights. You look at them, hoping they can be considered fashionably torn, but then you see another hole and decide to give up on them altogether.

It takes you a couple minutes to get rid of them, needing basically to fully undress from the waist down to get them off. Finally, you’re put together again, and you exit the stall, throw out the destroyed tights, and wash your hands. You notice that the group you came with is gone. In fact, the entire bathroom is now empty.

You sigh, disappointed that you’re on your own again, but you suck it up and start making your way back to the pit.

The second you walk out the bathroom door you smell it. Him. That acrid, somehow fishy, definitely revolting scent that alerts you that the alpha is nearby.

Before you even see him you hear him say, “Be quiet, and follow me.”

Shit. That’s an alpha command. You’re aware of that fact, but unable to fight it. You want to run, go back to the crowd, but you have no choice but to follow this man deeper into the back hallways. You want to scream, but every time you open your mouth, no sound comes out.

He leads you to a deserted corner, pushing you so your back is against a wall, and says, “Now stay quiet, and don’t move.”

Again, you do as he says, not only because of the command that you have to follow, but also due to the fear paralyzing you to the spot and rendering you silent.

“What a good little omega,” he says as he walks closer. He leans towards your neck, breath ghosting over your mating spot, and a loud whimper escapes you.

Realizing that you don’t need words to call for help, you begin to let out whines and whimpers as well as release distressed pheromones. Sure, you have scent blockers, but they’re not perfect and fear this strong will surely overpower them. You hope it’s enough to alert any other alphas nearby that there is an omega in danger.

You see the anger cross the man’s face, note the furious pheromones he’s releasing, but before he even reacts, your world goes dark.

***

Harry’s stylist is putting the finishing touches on his hair when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Harry says.

The door opens and he sees his band standing just outside the room.

“Blood Orange is about to start,” his drummer, Sarah, says. “You coming to watch with us?”

“Yea, of course. I’ll join you in a minute.”

As soon as he’s left alone, Harry takes some calming breaths. Night one of fifteen consecutive sold out shows at Madison Square Garden. He can’t believe how far he’s come in his career. He takes another deep breath, reminding himself that he’s worked hard for this, that he’s completely ready.

After spraying one more dose of scent blockers, he walks out of his room and goes through the hallways to find his band. They’re at the end of one hall, standing at the opening they’ll use later to walk to the stage. Harry joins them, making sure they’re all back far enough that they are still hidden from the fans.

Harry mingles with his band while they wait for the opener to start their set. But after a minute, Harry starts to get an uneasy feeling. He himself isn’t nervous or scared, so he really doesn’t understand where this sudden anxiety is coming from.

Harry looks around and sees a worried look on Sarah’s face. Aside from Harry himself, Sarah is the only other Alpha in the band. So the fact that they both have a sudden bad feeling while the betas around them seem unbothered has Harry on edge.

He begins to look for any type of potential threat. Right away he notices that the two Alpha security guards are scanning the area as well, hinting that they’ve picked up on the same thing. One of them walks away to start looking for anything that could be going wrong.

Blood Orange takes the stage, and that anxious feeling seems to go away. Harry checks with Sarah and she’s feeling better too, so they assume whatever was wrong has been taken care of.

Everyone enjoys the first few songs, and suddenly, the feeling comes back, way stronger than before. Harry’s alpha is immediately alert. He starts moving before he even realizes what he’s doing. He hears footsteps and sees Sarah and a security guard following close behind.

None of them know exactly where the trouble is, they just follow their instincts through the backstage hallways. Suddenly, the feeling of overwhelming terror hits them, and they can faintly hear whimpers coming from a distressed omega.

They start to run in the direction the sounds are coming from. Rounding a corner, they come across a scene that has their blood boiling.

There’s a female omega, seemingly unconscious, being physically held up against a wall by a male alpha.

“Let her go,” Harry growls out using his alpha voice. It’s less effective on the man than it would be on an omega, but his grip on the girl involuntarily loosens. Harry and the security guard move in to pull the alpha off, and Sarah runs forward to catch the girl.

More security guards move in and drag the alpha away to be questioned.

Harry’s focus shifts to the omega now being held in Sarah’s lap on the floor. Adrenaline is still coursing through Harry’s body, but he feels himself relaxing faster than he thought possible. That’s when he realizes Sarah is releasing calming pheromones. He immediately works to do the same, rather than continue to broadcast the anger he’s feeling.

He knows his emotions can affect the vulnerable omega, and the last thing he wants to do is cause her most stress.

His most pressing worry is that she’s dropped. It wouldn’t be all that surprising. Omegas tend to drop during stressful situations. This can be dangerous for a number of reasons, especially if they don’t have a trusted alpha to keep them safe while they’re under.

Not only can they not protect their bodies, but a drop can also be a scary experience mentally. Omegas have described it as feeling untethered, like they’re stuck in darkness, unable to find a way out. There are good drops as well, ones you go into on purpose to give your mind rest. This is always done when there is an alpha there to hold and scent them and keep them safe and grounded throughout.

But if this is a drop, Harry knows it would be a bad one, and they’d need to gently bring her up immediately.

“Sarah?” Harry says to get the other alpha’s attention.

“Yes?” she replies, not taking her eyes off the girl.

“Do you think she’s dropped?”

“No. At least not fully. I can still catch a bit of her scent. If she went fully under it would have disappeared completely.”

There’s movement all around them, members of venue security and Harry’s team all coming and going to ensure everyone is safe. Music and loud cheers can be heard, meaning the opening act if still playing, that the show was not interrupted by what happened backstage.

Harry and Sarah are focused solely on the omega, until they hear a familiar male voice say, “There you guys are. Sarah, you scared the shit out of me running off like that.”

She looks up at her husband, Mitch, and smiles sheepishly before saying, “Sorry, I really didn’t think. We heard her distressed whines and just reacted.”

“Is she okay?” Mitch asks, crouching down to be level with the group on the floor.

“We think so,” Harry answers. “There was an alpha who had her cornered. Not sure what exactly he was planning but it was obviously nothing good. She was unconscious when we got to her. Just wish she’d wake up so we can check that she’s really unharmed.”

“Is she in a drop?” Mitch asks. Being a beta he’s not as knowledgeable about these things but he knows enough to be concerned about the girl.

“No, definitely not a full drop. But I’ve been flooding the area with calming pheromones and she’s still not waking up,” Sarah says worriedly.

“Maybe she just senses unknown alphas around her. Why don’t I try holding her and you guys move away a bit?” He senses how reluctant they are to move away from the omega, but eventually they listen to Mitch.

He settles on the ground and Sarah passes the omega to him before moving to give them space. After another minute the girl begins to stir, groggily at first before her eyes shoot open and she jumps up to move away from all the people around her. They watch cautiously, unsure what to do with the sudden change in the situation.

***

For awhile you’re stuck in the dark. This isn’t a drop, not really. You’ve only ever dropped twice but you can tell there’s a difference this time. You’re still aware of what’s going on around you, even if the details are fuzzy.

The alpha is gone. That you know for sure. The awful smell is gone, replaced by a much more pleasant one. It’s a mix of black tea and maybe the ocean? Whatever it is reminds you of early morning walks on the beach during family vacations. You relax more into this scent, and then notice that fresh laundry smell which always means someone is releasing calming pheromones.

You start to relax, the adrenaline slowly leaving your body. You can still sense multiple alphas, which keeps you a bit on edge. You try to open your eyes, but you’re still in a deep fog, probably due to the mix of intense emotions and the multiple alpha commands you’d been subjected to.

You don’t realize that someone is holding you until they shift and place you in another person’s arms. The alpha scent fades and you know the person now holding you is for sure a beta.

Finally, you manage to open your eyes. It takes a moment for you to get your bearings, but when you do, you’re overwhelmed, and honestly a bit embarrassed. Harry Styles, the Harry Styles, the world-famous popstar you’re here to see, is sitting across the hall from you, studying you closely. Next to him is a woman you recognize as his drummer.

After these discoveries, you fully realize your current position; that you’re being held in someone’s lap. One glance at the man shows it’s Harry’s guitarist. You’re no longer embarrassed. No, now you’re completely mortified. You quickly extract yourself from his hold and stand up, looking at the group, totally speechless.

They slowly stand as well, all looking at you. And not just them, but the other dozen or so people that are still in the hallway. There are so many eyes on you, watching you, and you just want to disappear.

Picking up on your unease, Harry says, “Why don’t we go somewhere less exposed, hm? You can hang in my dressing room and maybe have a medic look you over if that’s alright?”

Without thinking you begin to nod your head, just wanting to get somewhere quiet with less people. He reaches out as though to place his hand on your back and lead you but seems to think again and pulls his arm back. Instead, he walks ahead, and you follow, Mitch and Sarah coming as well.

You arrive at the room, groaning when you see more people waiting there. One’s the medic Harry mentioned, another is obviously a police officer, and the third is a man you don’t recognize.

“Harry, need to you choose your outfit and get dressed. We’ll take care of, uhm, sorry I didn’t catch your name,” says the man.

“Oh, I’m Y/N,” you say immediately, surprised at just how scratchy your voice comes out.

Sarah must pick up on it because she asks you, “Would you like a cup of tea love?”

You can’t help but smile and let out a laugh at that.

“What’s go funny?” she asks, smiling as well.

“It’s just, your scent, it definitely smells like tea. And the first thing you say to me is about tea. Sorry, I know it’s not polite to comment on someone else’s smell,” you finish, head lowering in a new wave of embarrassment.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not offended,”

“Plus, you’re right,” Harry adds. “Swear I can’t make a cup of tea without thinking of her.”

“Aw, H, you think of me? How sweet,” she says with a joking tone.

“Real sweet,” Mitch says, then adds, “But stay away from my girl.”

You smile watching the easy interaction, happy to be distracted by their banter, sipping on the tea Sarah brings you.

That is until the man, whom you’ve learned is Harry’s manager, Jeff, reminds Harry that he’s supposed to be getting dressed, and the cop and medic walk over to you. There’s a table in one corner of the room and they lead you to it.

“Y/N, I’m Kate, I’m just going to get your vitals and check you over to make sure you’re okay, is that alright with you?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” you reply.

“And I’m Officer Michaels, is it okay if I ask you some questions about the incident tonight?"

“Of course.”

And so, as Kate does a quick exam you tell the whole story to the officer, starting with the uneasy feeling when you first noticed the man, all the way to him using his alpha voice to corner you in a back hallway.

Harry had reentered the room by this point, dressed in his show outfit and looking completely ready to get on stage. But he’s making no moves to leave the room, even though Jeff is reminding him the show is supposed to start in five minutes. Mitch and Sarah leave to finish getting ready themselves.

“Are we all set here?” You ask Kate and Officer Michaels.

“I have everything I need,” he replies. Kate adds, “Everything checks out just fine,” and they both exit the room as well.

This leaves you with just Harry and Jeff.

“Great, so I guess I should go back to the pit then?” You knew you were holding everything up and didn’t want to be more in the way than you already have been.

“Actually, Y/N, it would probably be best if you stay here for the show. Jeff, can you go grab Jada for me?”

The man nods, leaving you alone in the room with Harry. He motions to the couch, inviting you to sit and you do so. He sits on the coffee table facing you.

“I know you want to see the concert, and I know the man is gone, but I have to admit, my alpha is a bit on edge right now. To be completely honest, I don’t know if I could go out there and perform if you’re not completely safe. I would really like it if you stayed in this room and watched the concert on the TV over there. I promise to get you and your friends tickets to another show, alright?”

You’re taken aback by this, surprised by how much he seems to care about you, a random fan he’s never met before. And knowing that his alpha was triggered by what happened to the point where it’s still uneasy is a pretty big deal. That normally doesn’t happen with strangers. Sarah was no longer worried, and the alpha security guards were completely fine the second they caught the man.

So why was Harry’s alpha still calling the shots? It would make sense if you were partners, or at the very least, friends. Maybe Harry does truly care that deeply about all of his fans. That must be it. Because it certainly can’t be you in particular. There’s nothing special about you, other than being a damsel in distress and nearly derailing his show.

He must see the confusion on your face and continues, “Jada will be here in a moment, and she’ll hang out with you. Anything you need, just ask her. I won’t see you after the show, I leave right from the stage, but talk to Jada and Jeff and they’ll make sure you get home safely.”

“Okay, thank you so much for everything,” you reply.

“Of course. It’s the least I can do. Y/N, I am so very sorry something like this happened to you here. I always want this to be a fun, safe place for everyone.”

“It’s not your fault. Please, don’t feel bad. It is completely that knothead’s fault. You guys are the ones that saved me.”

He reaches forward and places his hand on top of yours, just for a second. Your hand tingles as he pulls away, like a bolt of electricity had just gone through it. You meet his eyes, and see he felt it too. You stare at each other, frozen for a moment, until there’s another knock at the door.

Harry stands quickly and introduces you to Jada as she joins you on the couch.

“Okay, I have to go before Jeff kills me. Y/N please give Jada your contact info so we can get those new tickets to you. Get some safe,” he says.

“Thank you, break a leg,” you reply and a second later he’s gone.

You talk to Jada throughout the start of the show, smiling as she lets you in on some behind the scenes info about the tour. After a few songs she asks if there’s anything she can get you.

“I actually have kind of a weird favor. I was supposed to come with a friend, but she couldn’t come at the last minute. I promised to send her videos and she’s going to be suspicious if I don’t have any. Would you be able to take a couple videos from the pit? I just don’t want to have to explain what happened. At least, not yet.”

“Of course, girl, I’ve got you. I’ll go get a couple of the next songs. Are you okay in here? There’s security outside the door so no one will be able to get in.”

“Yea, I’ll be fine,” you reply with a smile.

She walks out and you sink into the couch, grateful for a few minutes alone. Everyone has been so lovely, but it’s been a lot, and you need a minute just to breathe. You close your eyes, relaxing your body, and when you’re fully calm, you smell it.

There’s another alpha scent, but not one of a person nearby. No, it’s in the fabric of the couch. And the blanket next to you. And the shirt draped over the back of the couch.

It’s Harry’s scent. And it’s amazing. So clean, and fresh, with hints of chocolate, and the forest, and something sweet. Maybe roses, you think. Definitely a hint of floral. And once you catch the scent, it’s all you can think about, like it’s wrapped you in a warm hug. You feel better than you have in hours, the stress of the day fully washing away.

Even when Jada comes back, Harry’s smell is what you focus on the most. She notices you’re quieter than before and must assume you’re just tired from everything that has happened. She goes back out towards the end of the show to grab another video and you can’t help yourself. You turn to the side, right where the shirt is, and purposely take a deep breath. It’s almost overwhelming, your omega telling you to steal the shirt so you’ll always have the delicious scent with you.

That snaps you back to reality. You need to get your omega under control. You’re just like every other fan, thirsting for the amazing Harry Styles. Get a grip, you tell your omega. He’ll never be ours, don’t get attached.

Jada comes back, the show ends, and she leads you to a car that will bring you home. She asks for your car keys and ensures someone else will grab it from the station and drop it off at your place. She rides with you back to your home, along with a security guard.

You exchange numbers during the drive and breathe a sigh of relief when your apartment building comes into view. It’s been an exhausting day, and you can’t wait for a hot shower and your comfy bed.

You thank Jada for everything and notice them waiting for you to get safely inside before driving away.

You scorch your skin in the shower, put on your comfiest pajamas, and burrow under your covers.

You fall asleep that night not thinking of the horrible alpha, and the horrors of the day, but rather of green eyes, soft hands on yours, and the delicious scent that can only belong to Harry.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! If you have any questions, comments, concerns, (requests), please let me know!

I hope I got everyone who asked to be added to the taglist. If I didn't get you or you want to me added just leave a comment or a message!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305 @creativelyeva @daphnesutton @selluequestrian @lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely @eversincehs1

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #wolfrry

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ssahopelessly · 6 months

Text

Gift Exchange

Synopsis: It’s the holidays at the BAU and that only means one thing - Secret Santa gift exchange.

Prompt: “Character only wanted to reveal that they are someone's Secret Santa at the BAU Christmas Party but they end up confessing a lot more than that.” from @imagining-in-the-margins Office Party challenge. {A.N. I did not see this prompt until AFTER I wrote this but close enough.}

Warnings: Spencer Reid x fem!reader, work-place crush, Secret Santa, Spencer is dumb and scared of his own feelings. It’s basic fluff. [let me know any I missed]

Word Count: 4.5k

Masterist

You had only been at the BAU for a few months when suddenly it was the end of November. Thankfully, there hadn’t been a case, so you were able to slip away for an extended weekend to relax and renew before the workload of the final month of the year. Derek had taken you under his wing in a way, and upon your December return, warned you that normally December was the unpredictable predictable month. “What does that even mean?” You had asked while walking into the roundtable room one Monday morning.

“Kid, the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas is notoriously crime ridden. People lose their minds between financial stress and familial stress, and- look, all I’m saying is don’t make any solid plans for the month of December.” With Derek sitting two seats to Spencer's left, you squeezed yourself into the space between them, careful not to bother Spencer’s personal space as you brought yourself closer to the edge of the table.

“What about New Years?” You had tried to ask him, running the potential for an end of the year getaway in your head.

“Actually,” It was natural Spencer cut in, never able to miss a chance to share the information he knew, “the month of December mostly sees crimes revolving around material and monetary gain, crimes like theft and larceny increasing by 20% according to the National Crime Victimization Survey. The summer is when studies show the most violent and heinous crimes occur, specifically on the hotter days.” Derek rolled his eyes, beginning to flip through the small collected pile of paperwork he had carried into the room with him.

“Good morning Spencer.” You chose to greet him, already feeling the easy joy that came from being in his presence.

“Good morning.” It was an effort to not notice the way his voice shrunk back in on itself as your knee accidentally bumped him under the table, not quite catching the side glance Derek was giving you both either.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a running pool in the office. Just a small wager of $50, Derek had bet Emily that Spencer wouldn’t make a move before the New Year. Emily, ever confident in Spencer, insisted Spencer would make some gesture if the proper environment had presented itself. They were both coming up empty handed against the running clock as it had been a few months and neither you nor Spencer seemed to want to push anything further than coworkers, maybe friends.

What they had somehow missed though, were the small lunch runs you two would do for the team, or the few times Spencer had lended you his coat in the colder states, or the way he stayed late in the office with you to help with paperwork. They had missed the moments alone with Spencer that had meant everything to you. Well everything, if having a crush on your coworker wasn’t completely unprofessional and if you also weren’t always surrounded by the people who should be able to read that truth out of you.

The rest of the team had filed in, Penelope the last one to enter, just behind Emily and JJ though. “Okay my lovelies, before I present your next adventure, a small side quest!” Penelope put her things down on the table before picking up a small gift bag, rattling its contents around to your confusion. She clocked it before you could say anything and motioning her hand underneath the bag, motioned to everyone around the table. “Secret Santa!” There was a small groan through the room that was then met with a stern glare from Penelope herself before she returned to presenting the festivity. “I’ll pass the bag around so you all can draw your people. The gift limit is $25 so, no pressure.” She passed the bag to Aaron who, without much ceremony, pulled his drawing out and quickly read it as he passed the bag to Derek. Derek however, closed the bag at its opening and shook the contents before drawing his pick, trying to keep any emotions from his face as he passed it to you.

“What happens if we draw ourselves?” You asked as your hand slipped into the bag and felt around the slips of paper.

“Then put it back, draw again.” Penelope offered as she watched you try to make your drawing. And you tried not to think too much about how you wanted to draw Spencer’s name. Surely if you had asked, he could give you the odds of that right now. But also, the longer you took, the more attention you were drawing to yourself and it was just a work gift exchange anyway, you could always find another time to give him a gift later. Your fingertips graced over one slip for the final time and pinching it between, you drew it out of the bag. Leaning back in the chair you opened it to see one name singularly scribbled in her favourite glitter gel pen: Penelope.

“Not me!” You cheered with minimal enthusiasm, passing the bag to Spencer. There was a slight tremble to your hand when your touch graced his, but you tried to ignore it as you slipped your pick into your work folder, trying to push the small let down from your mind.

“Can I request no home made gifts this year?” Rossi had asked from his spot across from Aaron, leaned back in his chair as the bag continued around the table.

“Are you talking about the homemade socks I got you last year?” Penelope whispered out, small upset hanging off her jutted bottom lip.

“The socks I helped her make last year?” Spencer chimed in with reflected upset. Dave looked like he regretted his request but persisted.

“Kids, look, I love the thought and effort that went into them but they’re not really my style. They were ithcy and- not all of us can show up to crime scene with silly socks and be taken seriously.” Spencer smiled and shrugged at the allusion to his fashion sense. Eventually the bag made it around the table and Penelope delivered her case, with Hotch giving the room the standard wheels up in 30 order, everyone quickly dispersing to collect their things for this new case.

As everyone made their way out of the room, you tried to linger in an attempt to talk to Spencer. “Who’d you get?” You asked when it was just you two in the room, keeping your voice low so only he could hear.

“What?” He hadn’t given you his full attention, mind focused on getting his things into his satchel precisely how he wanted them, a task you had seen a few times before.

“For Secret Santa?”

“Oh. I- I can’t tell you that.” His attention still didn’t fall to you as he closed his bag and started making his way down the few stairs to his desk. You stayed hot on his heels, wanting to discuss secrets like you were a kid again. But he still didn’t pay you any attention, making himself busy with the things on his desk, moving what he could to the drawers as if that would help the clutter that always lingered on the surface. .

Purposefully putting yourself in his way, you took a seat in his desk chair, offering your best pleading eyes as you looked up at him, “Please?”

“It’s a secret! What if I told you and then you told them?” Spencer finally did look down to you, and for the first time you saw a bit of irritation in the way he was looking at you, but his voice still stayed low in the near whisper you had been maintaining.

“I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t.” You tried to reassure him.

“I know but…” You were distracted by the way he bit lip before shaking his head, hair falling from behind his ear. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll tell you who I got.” Was your offered bribe, to level the field of secrets. But Spencer was firm in his decision, shaking his head as he reached for his go-bag. “You’re no fun.” The words seemed to have no effect on him, a small soft smile still pulling at his lips.

“Sorry.” Letting your smile reflect his, you rolled your eyes before going back over to your desk to get ready for the jet, trying not to think about how the anticipation of who got you was going to consume your thoughts.

A month had come and gone and five days before Christmas, just as you had returned from what was thankfully a short case, the team managed to hold their little holiday party at Rossi’s. Your gift for Penelope had been something you picked out after a week of consideration and kept put away in a nice gift bag at the back of a drawer that should’ve been full of paperwork.

You weren’t supposed to profile each other, but as the days passed you grew only more curious about who had pulled your name. No one paid you extra attention, no blatant ‘what’s something you want for Christmas’ and in the same way, Spencer never said anything more about Secret Santa or who his pick was. You tried everything to get him to tell you, but he remained firm in his practice of keeping this one thing from you.

It was unanimously decided that Rossi would host the get together like he did all big team events, the team slowly trickling into the house after only having three hours between getting off the jet and agreeing to be there. Once everyone was there, and had their share of snacks from the provided buffet, Penelope gained control of the room like it was the roundtable room all over again. “Okay, this year, whoever has worked in the bureau the longest gets to go first.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks Garcia.” Dave didnt even have to move far, passing a small box to Aaron. You could’ve sworn a “Merry Christmas” was grumbled out, only evidence of so being the smile and laughter that pulled at Aarons mouth as he took the lid off the hand sized box.

“Wow, a gift card to Sutton Suits.” To his credit, Aaron did actually sound excited, which seemed to lighten Rossi for just a minute.

“Tell Oscar I sent you, and he’ll slip a quality cigar into your purchase.”

“Noted.” Their laughter died amongst them as Aaron then passed a red plaid gift wrapped object to Spencer, a sense of wonder settling over the room. Spencer was smiling though, now on the edge of his seat as his fingers slipped along the surface of the gift wrap, looking for a seam.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” He asked in a way that a laugh came out, gently tearing the paper away to reveal another book for Spencer’s collection.

“It’s a compilation of the ranked, most challenging published crossword puzzles from the last 35 years. I thought you’d enjoy.” Aaron explained to both Spencer and the team, your attention captured by Spencer as he pressed his thumb along the edge of the book, flipping through the many crossword puzzles that lined the pages. That one smile you’d grown fond of pulled at the corner of his mouth before he looked back at Aaron, full smile overtaking his face.

“Thank you, Hotch.”

The rest of the exchange went a little something like that. Derek got JJ some gift certificates to a new gym that was opening near her house, and JJ in turn got Derek a bulk bag of door hinges since “you don’t seem to know what those are” but then added he could use them in his house renovations. Penelope got Emily a scrapbook of photos full of Sergio and all the adventures she missed while in WITSEC and Emily got Dave a bottle of whiskey, which he thanked her for getting “the right kind” but then scolded her for spending too much on a gift.

By the time it was your turn, you had realised two things: Spencer hadn’t gone, and no one had given you a gift yet. And you surely hadn’t pulled your name but when you looked over to him, to suggest he go so you could confirm your new forming theory, he wouldn’t look at you. “Has Spencer gone yet?” You asked more so to Penelope, who had essentially made herself the leader of this whole exchange. The puzzled expression of her face held as she looked over to him, a small pout forming on her lips.

“No, no he has not.” The anxiety was creeping up the back of your neck, and just when you thought he had been caught, that you would get your answer, ever the gentleman he was.

“It’s okay, you can go.”

“But you’ve been at the BAU longer.”

“It’s fine. Go.” His voice softly encouraged you from where he sat, next to David’s Christmas tree. Pulling the bag from the side of your chair, you passed the glitter covered gift bag to Penelope, who beamed like she just won the lottery.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” She seemed genuinely excited, weighing the bag in her palm before tearing away at the tissue paper.

“Surprise!” You watched as her jaw fell, hand pulling out the first item. A pink bedazzled stapler, tiny pink rhinestones covering the whole surface.

“Shut up!”

“And there’s pink staples inside, just for you.” Your voice grew quieter as she still seemed ever so thrilled to be opening a present.

She pulled the matching tape dispenser out before finding the pink legal pad and new pink poof pen, one that lit up when the ink was pressed to write. “Where did you find all of this? My dreams?”

“I have my ways.” Putting everything back in the bag, she got up to give you a hug, pulling you tightly into her arms as everyone around you laughed and cheered. Their applause died down when she sat back down, all the attention falling to Spencer.

“Alright lover boy, your turn.” When you watched him then, you could see how nervous he had become, a slight tremble in his hand as he pulled the massive bag from its hiding spot, a bag that stood up to his knee height from the floor.

“You probably figured it out by now.” He whispered to you as he brought the bag closer.

“What’d you get her? Your heart?” Derek remarked from where he sat next to Emily, who was quick to elbow him in the side. Spencer must have registered his words as he had a jerk reaction to it like he briefly choked on something, but he was quick to return to his normal behavior, avoiding your eyes as he returned to his seat. From there though, he seemed more comfortable to make eye contact with you, lips curling in to lick them before trying to find his words again.

“What is it?” You beat him to it, but the smile that had formed on your lips seemed to put him at ease as he reflected it to you.

“Just open it.” Was his simple instruction as he leaned back in his seat, knee bouncing in subtle anticipation. Prying the sealed gift bag open, you were met with a familiar black fabric, though without the pilling that you were almost used to. With both hands you pulled it from the bag on the floor, up into the air to get a better look at it. It was a new black peacoat, your size and everything. Bringing it to your lap, you immediately looked to Spencer who was biting his lip, waiting for your response.

“Thank you!” Were the few words you were able to come up with, the simplicity seeming to make Spencer relax again

“Well come on, try it on for us!” Penelope called from her seat, reminding you that the whole team was watching this gesture in action. Standing, you unfasted the buttons and slipped your arms into the satin lining, already imagining how warm the cold weather cases were going to become.

You tried not to think of the first time Spencer let you borrow his jacket, how it was still warm from his own body heat. How the scents of his cologne and laundry detergent wafted around you like a scarf, forcing you to smell and think of him despite trying to focus on the crime scene you had been visiting that day. How the second and third cold weather case you had again asked for the jacket, but by the fourth and fifth case and so on he had offered it to you, always smiling when you slipped it on. “Borrowing your boyfriends jacket?” Derek had taunted you one day, in earshot of Spencer who failed to fight the blush on his cheeks. It was such a simple thing, but knowing you had your own black peacoat, and that of all people, Spencer, had been the one to get it for you meant everything.

Slipping a hand into a pocket, you felt a piece of paper, small and folded hiding within. Immediately looking back to Spencer, he just offered you a smile and a wink, patting the same spot on his cardigan as if he knew what you were about to say.

“Ooo la la, why have we seen this look on you before?” JJ asked more to the room than you specifically, and again you looked to Spencer, who seemed to be in his own thoughts, a small blush rising to his cheeks.

“Because she always borrows my jacket, I thought she should have one of her own.” There was something in the way he was looking at you, a gentle fondness that you had only ever seen from him a handful of times.

“And all for $25?” Emily added to the questioning. “Where did you get such a deal?”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Aaron tried to spare you both and reign in the team. “That is a nice coat though. Well done.” The blush had stayed on his cheeks and while you slipped the coat off your arms, you made sure to reach for the note before slipping the coat back into the bag.

“Now, we eat!” David cheered over the room, everyone vacating their spots to head towards the kitchen. You lingered in an effort to read the note, opening it in the palm of your hand.

“I need to talk to you.” Scribbled Spencer’s hand writing before signing off on it with a singular S.

“Are you coming?” His voice caught your attention, unaware he was beside you this whole time.

“Spencer, I-“

“Later.” He was quick to cut you off before motioning with an extended hand for you to walk in front of him towards the dining table.

After dinner, night started to fall noticeably over the Rossi Mansion. All conversations had lost their focus and everyones laughter was bordering into delirious bouts of nonsense. Before anyone could leave, Dave asked that people either make leftover plates to take home or help clean up the dishes into the kitchen so all he really needed to do was wash them (or load the dishwasher, whichever one happened first).

With everyone winding down and getting ready to say their farewells for the evening, you tried to get Spencer alone for just a second, yet he always seemed to find something to do. It wasn’t like he was avoiding you, he kept looking at you, smiling that same soft smile, but he also made an effort to not be alone in the same room as you. “Everything okay?” Derek had asked as you watched Spencer and Penelope clean up the wrappings and trash of the Secret Santa gift exchange.

“He’s avoiding me.”

“What?”

“He bought me this nice ass jacket and now he’s avoiding me.” You mused aloud, never bothering to actually look at Derek, still watching how Spencer would bend down to reach between the chairs for scraps of torn gift wrap. “Why would he do that?”

“Listen, we are profilers,” Derek started, now also watching Spencer, “but there’s no science for what goes on in his mind.”

“I-” Were you really about to air out your inner thoughts to Derek, surely the one person on the team who would give you advice if not for the cost of also holding those same thoughts over your head later? “I need to talk to him. But he’s…” Your words fell short as you watched Spencer look around the living room, confirming all the trash had been picked up. He started pulling on his sweater before he looked at you, saw Derek, and immediately turned to Penelope and Emily to offer his assistance in loading their cars. “Avoiding me.”

“It’s not you.”

“What?”

“He’s avoiding himself.”

“It’s Spencer. He-” You thought about how forward everything had been. The jacket, the note, the concept of the present itself. How one minute he was confident and charming and the next second he was unsure and slightly distant. “Why would he do that?”

“Say the first part of your sentence again.” A chuckle came from Derek’s lips as you thought it over: It’s Spencer.

“Why would he do that?” You repeated, hoping to maybe get a different answer from him.

Taking too much enjoyment in the obvious pining, Derek just laughed, “Back to the first answer: there’s no logic, rhyme or reason.”

“It’s Spencer.” You concluded aloud now for your own understanding, hoping everything would start to make sense.

“You got it.”

Spencer had come back inside just for Dave to start corralling everyone out of the house. “You don’t have to go home, but you cannot stay here.” He had said as everyone started to say their final goodbyes for the night. There were hugs all around, many variations of holiday wishes for the extended weekend everyone was about to embark on.

“Hey, can you give Spencer a ride home?” Emily had asked as she pulled away from her goodbye hug.

“Excuse me?” He called several feet away from where he had been on the fringes of a conversation between Aaron and JJ.

“Is everything okay?” You had asked her, looking her once over as if the answer was somewhere on her person.

“Yeah. Penelope ordered something to my address and I’m supposed to drop it off at her apartment after and, well I forgot. Besides, don’t want to keep Reid out past his bedtime.” She had tried to joke but he crossed over to your conversation now, slight upset over his face.

“I don’t have a bedtime!” He had tried to protest.

All to be met with a “yes you do,” from the members of the team that were still left. The pout in protest pulled his bottom lip out from under his top, and he finally turned to look at you. His attention shouldn’t have felt like a reward, but being treated with an imaginary ten foot pole in his attempt to keep distance wasn’t a fond feeling either.

You tried to offer him some semblance of comfort but he just turned on his heels to grab his bag from Emily’s car, sulking back over to your car. “Good luck.” Emily whispered to you before turning back to her car.

Climbing into your car, you noticed how Spencer was content to sit completely still and rigid in his seat, his knee bouncing as he brought his fingers to press to his lips.

“Are you okay?” It was an attempt at bursting the bubble that had formed around you two, keeping you in separate worlds from the other.

“I’m fine.” He huffed, answer too short and to the point.

“You’re lying.”

“No I’m not.” You heard it then. The rise of an octave, the unbelievable deflection.

“You are.” He settled further into his seat as you drove out of the DC suburbs and closer to where your apartments were. “Did I do something wrong?” Your voice fell then, insecurity creeping in at the thought that maybe you had unknowingly done something to upset him.

“What?” His voice wasn’t high in pitch this time, but soft in tone as he snapped his attention to you. “Why would you think-”

“Well, you gave me a really nice gift and asked to speak to me later and then spent the rest of the evening avoiding me. So I thought maybe I just did something to offend you, so…”

“I’m not… offended.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“I,” his head fell back, hitting the head rest before he blew out some air from his pressed lips, looking over to you to watch your reaction to his next words, “I like you.”

“Well yeah. I mean we’re friends, have been friends for quite some time now.”

“No, I mean… I like you, like you.”

“Oh?” A silence had settled as you both took a moment to take in his words, then hoping the other would say something to end the silence. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” It offered him the chance to laugh. Not like he was insulted, but more he thought it was funny that you weren’t sure if he was sure.

“I mean- I think I get it. But why did you spend the rest of the night avoiding me?”

“Because,” you came to a red light while you waited for his answer, looking to him to see he had already been watching you, “I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same.” He started to shy away from you again, eyes avoiding meeting yours no matter how long you thought you’d been staring at him.

“What if I do?” You reached for his hand in between your two seats, fingers gently securing through his, waiting to see if he would pull away. This grabbed his attention, hopeful eyes finally looking into yours now. “What if I do, like you, like you?”

“Then I would be thrilled.” It was sweet, the feeling of understanding, of mutual endearment for the other while he held your hand there, paying no mind to the red light above you both. But like a sign from above, it turned green, reflecting off the interior of the car.

There were so many things you wanted to commit to memory, in the same way he would without half the effort. You wanted to remember the way he looked at you, the way it felt to be under his gaze with this new meaning. You wanted to remember the way it felt to hold his hand, or the way it felt to have his thumbing small circles into your hand. The way you couldn’t fight the smile as it took over your lips, or the way he seemed to feel the same way. But most of all, you wanted to remember how it felt to be in that moment with him, mind swimming with possibilities of what this would mean for the future.

Tell me what you think here.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #oneshot #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #mentioningmargins #christmas #holiday #secret santa #gift exchange #ssahopelessly #fem reader #spencer reid x fem!reader

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dancingtotuyo · 4 days

Text

13. with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: you adjust to life with a newborn. Joel finally gets to tell you something

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed. Spoilerish for TLOU 2

Chapter Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, smidges of angst

Notes: And thus we enter the third and final part of this beloved story. This chapter starts to play with some of the canon of TLOU II as will the rest of Part III

As always, a huge shout out to@janaispunk for beta reading.

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader!

Words: 3642

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

Three Years Later

Willa sits at the kitchen table, chin resting in her palms as she stares out the window. It’s cracked open, allowing the chilly fall breeze in as it plays with the dark curls on her head. She’s been there since breakfast, kicking her legs in thoughtful silence with a stack of untouched art supplies at her side.

You’ve never seen her so still or quiet, keeping an eye on her as you bustle around the house, cleaning and preparing for Joel’s birthday dinner. This is the first year he’s really allowed you to celebrate it. You’ve done small things in the past. A cake after dinner. A small wrapped gift. It’s a hard day for everyone. It’s the day that life as everyone knew it ended, but you have reason to celebrate. He’s growing older, an accomplishment in its own right, the gray in his hair beginning to take over the brown. You like it. It means he’s still here.

Willa is still kicking her feet at the table when your stomach growls. The clock on the wall reads just after twelve. Carter is at school. Joel has assignments until dinner time. You fix two sandwiches and slice some veggies. You set a plate in front of Willa and then slide into the chair across from her.

She lets out a deep sigh that seems too big for her small frame to hold. A smile edges at your lips. “What’s wrong, Sweetpea?”

“I don’t know what to make daddy.”

“For his birthday?”

She nods.

“That’s what you’ve been thinking about all day?”

“Yeah.”

You smile assuringly at her. “You should eat. It always helps me when I can’t think.”

She lets out another sigh, but picks up the jelly sandwich you made her. Her lips smack as the jelly oozes out of the sides, sticking to her fingers and leaving pink smudges along her cheeks. Willa appears unbothered by it, head nodding back and forth as she eats.

You manage through most of the meal without intervening until she goes to push back her hair with a jelly soaked hand. “Whoah Whoah Whoah!” You’re out of your seat, grabbing her wrist in the nick of time. She looks almost startled. “Your hand is covered in jelly. I don’t want it to get into your hair.”

“Oops,” she smiles. “Sorry, Mommy.”

“It’s okay,” You sigh, reaching for the dish cloth in the kitchen sink. The last thing you need to do is work jelly out of a three year old’s hair. “What kind of cake should I bake for Daddy’s birthday?”

“Chocolate,” Willa grins as you wipe down her hands and mouth.

“That’s your favorite,” you chuckle.

“Daddy likes it too.”

“Chocolate it is then.” You kiss her cheek.

She beams up at you and then a light bulb goes off in her eyes and she quickly digs into the meager art supplies you’ve collected over the last several years. You watch her for a few short moments as she bustles forth with clear determination. Then, you bake a birthday cake.

Midway through, you exit to the living room, only to set the needle on the record player. When you return, Willa’s head bounces back and forth in time as she hums the words she’s already memorized.

As she finishes her project, Willa jumps down, scurrying out of the room in a flash. You smile to yourself.

Carter bustles in, throwing his backpack onto the floor with a thud. “Are you denting the walls again?”

His face appears around the corner with a lopsided grin you’d seen on Gabe a thousand times. The ache is dull in comparison to the joy it brings you. “That only happened once.”

You wink at him, tossing him an apple. He catches it with ease, the product of countless hours he and Joel spent outside with a baseball and tattered gloves.

“How was school?” You smile.

“Good.” He bites into the apple with a satisfying crunch, before standing on his tiptoes to kiss your cheek. You lean over to close the gap, but it’s admittedly not as large of a gap as it used to be. He’s growing faster than you like.

“Just good?”

He nods, mouth full of apple, but chooses to speak anyway. “I saw Ellie. I invited her tonight.”

You keep your face neutral, far experienced now in keeping the war between Ellie and Joel from your younger children. “What did she say?”

“Maybe.”

Your eyebrow raises. You can’t keep the hints of surprise from your face, but you’re saved from having to make a response.

“Carter!” Willa rushes in, out of breath and in a flutter like the world might stop at any second. She pushes her hair out of her face. You really wish she’d keep the hair ties in, but she says it pulls her head. Your daughter meets her brother’s eyes with a serious weight in her eyes. “I need your help.”

“With what?”

She glances at you, like she's not sure you can keep the secret swirling in her little mind. “Daddy’s birthday present.”

“Okay,” Carter shrugs. Willa rushes out in the same flurry with Carter following.

“Don’t leave the apple core in your sister’s room!” You call after them with only the slam of Willa’s door in response.

As far as baking cakes, well, it wasn’t your strong suit before the world ended, but you manage. You’ve never received a complaint from the kids, but you know they prefer Maria’s cake to yours. You should have asked her. You slide the iced cake into the fridge just as Joel arrives home.

“There’s the birthday boy.”

There’s a deep chuckle in response. “The house is suspiciously quiet.”

“Your children are up to no good. I’m sure.”

“My children, you say?” His sturdy arms wrap around your middle and you lean back. “What they do?” His lips play behind your ear.

“Not sure. They’ve been shut up in Willa’s room for over an hour.”

Joel chuckles. “Perhaps they’re forming a mutiny.”

“I hope not. We’re getting too old for that.”

“Might just let them take over. Then we could live out our days in peace. Prop our feet up while they get to work.”

You hum softly. “Doesn’t sound half bad.”

“That’s what happens when you get old,” he kisses your cheek.

“Are you calling me old, Joel Miller?”

“You’re almost 50, Sweetheart. You’re about to join the ranks. I’m just preparing you.”

“I’ve already got the achy back and creaking knees.”

Joel chuckles. “Guess I got to throw you a birthday party too.”

“I think we can just skip that.”

Joel clicks his tongue. “No, we’re gonna celebrate. We’re gonna start doing alot more celebratin.”

“We haven’t even had your birthday party and you want more?” you can’t contain the laughter rising in your chest.

There’s a deep sense of rightness in this moment. The fears you harbored for so long, melting away with each year that is passed. It’s not completely gone by any means, but it doesn’t keep you from living anymore, embracing what you have.

He nuzzles into your neck, his scruff scratching softly against your skin. You’ve both aged these past couple of years, be it biology or the two young kids you’re raising, but you see it in yourself now too when you look in the mirror, the way the wrinkles cut deeper into your forehead and around your eyes. And maybe, you’d had a harder time accepting the gray hairs that seemed to multiply each day than you wanted to admit, but you embrace it now. You embrace all signs of aging. Aging is a good thing.

“I think we should start celebrating everything.”

“Are you having a midlife crisis?”

“Think it’s a little late for midlife… What’s after that?”

You shift a bit in his arms, trying not to dwell on the first thought that that pops into your mind. “I think midlife works.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Joel grins. “It’s not a midlife crisis.”

You hum, a look on your face that says, yeah, sure, okay.

He laughs in response. “I’m gonna go shower. Doesn’t sound like the kids will let me in to say hi.”

“The door is probably barricaded.”

“Shower it is,” Joel smiles, giving you one last kiss before the stairs creak with his weight.

Dinner is all but ready, and the kids are still locked in Willa’s room when Joel comes down the stairs. His hair hangs in damp ringlets, longer than he’s let it get before. You have to admit that you’re liking the extra length.

“Can you go tell the kids they need to come set the table?”

“Time to bring down the barricades, got it.” Joel winks at you.

You can hear the commotion down the hall, Willa yelling that Joel is not to come in. The back and forth of getting the kids to agree on coming out. Joel’s grunt as Willa inevitably jumps into his arms with zero warning. It’s all familiar and warming. It fills your home with love.

The kids scurry out. Joel aids Willa in fishing out the silverware while Carter grabs out the plates. Another well rehearsed dance. A slice of normalcy Joel never imagined he’d get again in this lifetime.

He’s pulling glasses out of the cabinet Carter can’t reach yet when there’s a knock on the door. Joel looks at you questioningly. Tommy and Maria never knock. You shrug.

Ellie’s nervous face and Dina’s smile greet him when he opens the first door. Joel’s heart leaps in his chest as his jaw drops slightly. “Ellie… hi.”

“Hi.”

“Happy Birthday, Joel,” Dina smiles.

“Thanks, Dina.” Joel nods but quickly returns his eyes to Ellie. “Thanks for coming.”

She forces her lips into a tight line. “Carter invited me.”

“Still glad you came.” Joel still seems a little bit stunned. “Why don’t the two of you come on in?” He steps aside. Ellie refuses to meet his eyes. Dina pulls her inside.

He stays by the door, overhearing the surprise in your voice when you spot Ellie. Carter and Willa’s joy at having her here. His heart aches. It always does when he thinks about the distance between them, but she came. That has to be a good sign.

“I see we got the welcoming committee tonight,” Tommy says as he walks into view, hand in hand with Maria. Elias darts forward, narrowly brushing past Joel.

“Happy birthday, Uncle Joel!” He says without stopping, more focused on finding his cousins than bothering with his uncle.

Joel chuckles, accepting Tommy’s hug as he approaches. “I see where I fall on his list of priorities.”

“You’d think he didn’t just see Carter at school.” Maria laughs, offering her own greeting to Joel.

“Thank you for coming.”

“When do we not show up?” Tommy grins as the three of them make their way inside.

Carter and Willa have already added the extra place settings for Ellie and Dina. Carter slides right next to Ellie, making conversation about the moon and constellations. Joel slides into his chair at the end of the table. You catch the way he looks at Ellie. The way she expertly avoids him. You’re not sure how she does it, seemingly present but expertly able to avoid any and all conversation with Joel. Tommy and Maria’s presence seems to make it easier.

You knew what he did hurt, you just never expected the two of them to go this long in limbo, orbiting each other round in round, never coming to a resolution. As much as Joel looks like someone totaled his pickup and shot his dog when he glances her way, he still manages to enjoy the night. Ellie being here, whether she talks to him or not, is the greatest gift he could have asked for.

You take his hand, squeezing it gently. He presses it to his lips, winking at you playfully. The balancing act can be tiring, but he’s simply happy tonight.

You’re not offended when the cake on the plate of the adults remains mostly uneaten. The cake is dense and dried out. The kids don’t seem to mind.

“Can we do presents now?” Willa asks, frosting sticking to her face in multiple places. You can only imagine how sticky her fingers are.

“Wash your hands first,” you say.

Willa nods, sliding out of her seat and rushing out of the room.

“Can I get anyone anything to drink? Water? Tea?”

“Coffee?” Joel grins. You have been able to rangle up beans each year for his birthday, except for this year.

You shake your head. “Unfortunately, not this year.”

“No coffee? That’s it, party’s over folks.” He playfully hits the table with his palms, winking at you.

He receives a smack to the back of the head, and a deep chuckle greets your ears. You smile, setting the kettle on the stove. He’s happy and relaxed, bubbling over with a calm joy, pure and untarnished. You like this side of him. It’s like a piece of the first version of Joel you knew. The same laughter and smile Sarah pulled from him long before the world dug its ugly claws into either of you. It’s only become more common in your home over the years.

Maria joins you as you start to wash up a few dishes while you wait for the kettle to boil. Both of you watch the table with keen eyes as your family sits around it, complete for once. Joel and Tommy chat about their patrols. There’s been an uptick in infected. They’re worried about a colony coming in. Dina and Ellie engage with the boys at the other end of the table, some debate about what happened at kickball last week.

“You better not be washing dishes, Sweetheart. That’s my job,” Joel says.

“It’s your birthday.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you. “You cooked, and baked a cake.”

“More like attempted,” Tommy teases. You stick your tongue out at him like the mature 49 year old woman you are.

Once the team is ready, you set a mug in front of Joel. He thanks you before his brow furrows. “That’s not my mug.”

You know he’s talking about the owl mug, the one you push to the back of the cabinet because you think it looks at you funny. “No, it’s your new mug,” You smile. “Happy birthday.”

Joel picks it up, inspecting it closer. It’s slightly faded but otherwise in pristine condition. Two fawns frolic against the picturesque forest that’s delicately painted along the outside. His eyes narrow slightly at you, a playful volley of looks and unspoken words passing between you.

Joel chuckles, stealing a chaste kiss from your lips. “Thank you.”

“You can use the owl one when I’m not around.”

“So never then?”

“I mean, ideally, yes.”

“As sweet as this is,” Tommy says, interrupting the two of you. “I’m afraid we came empty handed.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Wouldn’t expect anything less. Besides, I’ve got everything I need right here.” He looks around the table that includes everyone in the world he loves, aside from Willa who is still busy cleaning herself up.

“You’re going soft in your old age,” Tommy smacks his brother on the back.

Joel shrugs. “Happens to the best of us I guess.”

“Daddy! I’m ready!” Willa calls, bursting into the room, small package clutched in her hands as she rushes to his side.

Joel picks her up with a slight groan, setting her on his lap. “I’m ready, Wildflower.”

She laughs, handing him the box as she pushes her curls from her face. “Carter helped too.”

“I’m excited to see what it is,” Joel smiles, attention solely split between his children as he carefully opens the box.

He’s confused at first, pulling the delicate construction from its box, some combination of paper and old cardboard carefully put together. It takes a second, but then he registers the small arrows fastened into a minute and hour hand against the background. Carter’s oversized numbers unevenly circled around in one to twelve.

“It’s a new watch,” Willa grins brightly. “Cause yours is broken.” She lifts his wrist as if to show him the broken watch for the first time.

You catch the shine in Joel’s eyes and the bobble of his throat. “Thank you. It’s a very nice watch.”

“It latches too,” Carter chimes. “So you can actually wear it.”

Joel inspects it further, seeing where the kids had carefully cut holes in the band and managed to create a fasten.

“Mommy can help you,” Willa says.

You smile, leaning forward to fasten it to Joel’s wrist, right above his first watch, the one Sarah fixed for him. You’re careful not to break it. It’s not the most secure thing in the world, but Joel beams with pride as he shows it to Tommy and Maria.

“Do you like it?” Willa asks.

“I love it.” Joel smiles, squeezing his daughter tight.

Joel falls beside you on the couch with a content sigh, letting his head fall back and his arm across your shoulders as he does. You smile, leaning into him. “You enjoy your birthday?”

“I’m getting too old. Reading that book about put me to sleep.”

You laugh, pulling a blanket around your shoulders to stave off the cool air that drifts in through the cracked window behind you. “It’s a good thing I like you old.”

Joel hums, kissing your forehead softly. “Thank you for doing so much today.”

“It’s not like I don’t cook dinner most nights.”

“You baked a cake.”

You snort. “Attempted to make a cake.”

“Wouldn’t be the first birthday where you messed up the cake.”

You groan, images of the cake you and Sarah attempted to bake for Joel’s 30th birthday flashing in your memory. It had looked nice enough, but tasted like baking soda. Joel chuckles.

“Well,” You let out a soft sigh, holding back the smile that bites at your lips. “Guess it’s a good thing I have a back up plan.”

Joel’s brow creases. “Back up plan?”

“You are getting old,” you tease, your own mouth watering at the subtle cinnamon tinged air. “I thought you would have smelled it by now.”

Joel stops a second, paying extra attention to his senses. His lips tip up almost immediately as he clocks it. “Is that…”

“My mom’s peach pie.” You grin. Her peach pie filling had been legendary on the block and she’d passed along the recipe early on in your life. You made it each year as the peaches ripened, but you had taken care to freeze extra filling for Joel’s birthday this year. “You really expect me to bake a cake without a back up plan?”

Joel laughs again. “I love you.”

“Only for the peach pie.”

“Well duh.” He pulls you closer, leaving a sweet kiss on your lips.

You laugh, returning the kiss. “It’ll be ready in about 20 minutes.”

“Perfect… enough time for me to give you something.” Joel reaches down, grabbing a flat package, wrapping in a cloth from under the couch.

“But it’s your birthday.”

“And I like seeing you happy.”

You roll your eyes as he places the thin, square gift in your hands. Your brow knits together as you pull the wrap from it. White corners catch your eye and with two men standing in a doorway. Fleetwood Mac reads centered above them. A small gasp leaves your mouth. You haven’t heard this album in years. Your grandma’s copy had been badly scratched and warped before the outbreak and no one in Jackson seemed to own a copy.

“Finally found that the other day. I haven’t played it yet, so I’m not sure about the condition- but it looked like it hadn’t warped too badly.”

“Turn it on.” You grin brightly, eagerly putting it back into Joel’s hands. Your body thrums with excitement. The songs you haven't heard in so long play in the back of your mind as Joel pulls the vinyl record from the sleeve and places it on the old record player in the corner of your living room.

Static fills the speakers at the needle drops. You both wait with baited breath for the music to start. Monday Morning plays starts without warning, causing you to both jump slightly. A laugh tumbles from your mouth, eyes sparkling with joy as they meet Joel’s. He’s got a similiar joyful expression.

“It’s much more lively than your version,” you say. You haven’t heard the recorded version in over two decades though Joel’s rendition is still a constant in your home. Willa calls it her song.

Joel laughs, walking back over to you. “I doubt Willa will even recognize it.” He holds out his hand. “Come on.”

Your brow knits together as you take his hand. He tugs you to your feet. You secure the blanket around your shoulders as Joel leads you toward the front door and onto the porch. The cool September air greets you. The music filters through the open windows as the opening track fades into the smooth opening of Warm Ways.

“What are you doing?”

”Dancin.” He grins wrapping his arms around you as he begins to sway.

You lean into his embrace, warm between the blanket on your shoulders and his torso against yours, head resting on his shoulder. You sway to the music, eyes closed. Joel’s head rests against yours, his chest rumbles gently as he hums along to the melody, lulling you as close to bliss as you think you’ve ever been.

You nuzzle further into his neck. “I love you, Joel.”

He smiles, kissing your cheek. Both your eyes stay shut, relishing in the touch of the other. “Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that, Sweetheart.”

“Good.”

Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa @tobethlehem

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #woman (joel miller)#joel miller fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro stories #pedrostories #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal

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heyidkyay · 7 months

Text

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part One

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Warnings: This is gonna deal with a lot of controversial shit surrounding Matty and his past I'm ngl, so if you're not into that then I'd suggest not reading this! But if you are, then hi!! I hope you enjoy?

Authors Note: I'm back...:)) Back with a series too, or it will be if this first part goes down well! Lmao so pls don't hate it! Butttt in all honestly, I do have to quickly thank @procrastinatinglikeapro for all the kind words she gave me on the snippets I annoyed her with recently and for forcing me to actually believe in this fic because I very much was on the fence about posting again. So thank youuuu, it means a whole lot<3 Also, the skeleton of this was taken from a very old fic of mine which I started during the height of covid that I've just been thinking about trying to better for a long while now, so... enjoy?

And I guess let me know if this is something anyone would want to read more of? Yeeeeah, I really don't know what else to write here now, it's been a while, so! Hi, help, bye:)

Masterlist

“Yeah, yeah! I’m really into their sound at the minute! Honestly fell in love with their recent performance at the VMA’s- didn’t overdo it and kept true to themselves. Definitely did a great job there, so well done with that one if you’re listening in, lads!”

I was grinning from ear to ear as I spoke into the microphone before me, which was to be expected whenever I was at work. Strange, yeah I know, but only to any typical person with the usual nine to five, because I truly did love my job. It was tough work, strenuous at times, contrary to what most might believe, but it was pretty much everything I’d ever dreamt of.

See, I’d grown up on the outskirts of this tiny village in the Isles, where everybody knew everything about everybody. Secrets were never well kept- you could just ask our local priest about that one, who had often used to regale most of the confessions he’d heard in the only pub around for miles whenever he was pissed beyond being able to sit on his barstool. And it was also incredibly tight-knit, as in, all the kids who went to school together, then grew up and married one another, settling down and taking over the jobs that their parents or grandparents soon retired from. Hardly anyone moved away, if ever.

In reality though, it was actually just a place I’d always felt like a stranger in. Where I’d struggled to fit in and make friends, to form bonds outside of the one I shared with my mum.

I’d had a tough go of it back in school actually. ‘Mouse’ was what they’d seemingly dubbed me back then, a nickname which had travelled the masses all too quickly seeing as there had only been about sixteen kids in both my year and the one above.

It had mostly been due to me just having been an extremely timid child, hiding behind my mum’s flowing skirts whenever we went into town and much preferring that of my own company. But that fact hadn’t gotten any easier for me once I’d been forced out of school for a few years after an accident that had flipped my entire life on its head. Resulting in me being further isolated from the rest of the world and my fuck-face of a father running for the hills.

Still. Shit happened, I supposed, and I’d been forced to grow up.

Too quickly, in truth.

So whilst everyone else had been out living, I’d been holed up in our little dove cottage miles away from them all, with only books and music to keep me company. Music which had been a true constant in my life and just about the only thing that had gotten me by.

As well as my mum, who’d forever be my rock. And back when we’d both been growing up, she had always had the tele on full blast throughout the day, cycling through the freeview channels that played the recent top 50 and old school classics.

It was one of my favourite things to look back on now, if she was ever in the mood, or when the power would finally flicker and go out completely, she’d spin this old phonograph her own father had gifted her in the days before she’d left home. The two of us would dance around the living room whilst she’d clean on Saturday mornings and then hum to it as we settled in for a long storm, her working on her trusty crossword whilst I would read or draw. It would croon out old French records she had bought long before she’d moved to the UK, and before she’d ever even met my dad.

And I would just lose myself in it all.

It wasn’t just the basic premise of music that I had enjoyed though, it was everything else that also came along with it. The opinions, the reviews, the personal stories and thoughts, the way it made a person feel.

So, for years I would just sit down at the kitchen table and write for hours on end about the sound, the rhythms I’d felt and heard, the lyrics that had had me bellowing out or playing on a never-ending loop in my head. And then, as a teen, Twitter had come along and had been just another way for me to express it all.

That was what had led to all this actually. The radio.

At first, I’d never paid much mind to all of the people who had started to discover the small page I’d created, the users that had enjoyed reading my inner thoughts. But then I had and it had been an insane concept to comprehend, but was also what had, ultimately, pushed me into continuing with it.

From there, opinions on genres of music and their style throughout different decades turned into thoughts on up and coming artists, then actors and other A-list celebrities. So, I’d ended up spending an awful lot of time online, simply just tweeting about it all, on subjects followers had wanted to hear about and answering questions on whether I loved a certain album or new EP.

The account had grown rapidly after and by the time I’d had the balls to tell my mum I’d wanted to leave home and make a start for myself, in London of all places, it had gained well over fifteen thousand followers.

I went to uni down there and met people. People who didn’t shy away from me or shine a light on my odd quirks. I met my best mate there, too. And Finn was unlike any other. The platonic love of my life, or so I’d dubbed. He was eccentric, witty, and didn’t care about what anyone else thought of him. Forced me to feel that way too, slowly but surely. And it had only taken a few weeks before he'd grown rather suspicious of my constant need to always have my phone near.

He had, pretty early on, decided that I must’ve had some secret boyfriend back at home that I’d yet to tell him about and had annoyed me about it at every twist and turn, basically backed me into a metaphorical corner. So to say I’d relented fairly quickly wouldn’t be a lie, and I’d told him all about the account soon enough.

Finn had actually been the one to suggest that I take it somewhere bigger, make it into something people could tune into and not just read about. I had actually taken that consideration on board way back then, but had only acted on it when shit had hit the fan a year or so later. But we'll get to that.

So with it all, I’d made an actual radio show out of my thoughtless Twitter account, allowing people to listen in and actually get to know the person behind the name.

That was essentially how ‘Mouse On A Mic' had come to life.

Yup, I’d kept the fucking nickname! I couldn’t not in truth, it was familiar, reminded me of the person I once was, and who I am now. But the only difference was, I’d given it a new story. I’d claimed it.

The show's audience grew fairly quickly during that first year, I was new on the scene and seemingly refreshing. I had a no-bullshit kind of attitude that my listeners admired. I called celebs out on their crap and went to new extremes to conjure up inventive ways to get followers involved.

Ultimately doing things that other radio presenters were afraid to do at the time. Which was fair enough, in hindsight, they had actual endorsers and brands that were backing them up and funding their streams. Me, on the other hand, had no-one to answer to for my mistakes or any backlash the show received. It was just me, sat alone in my bedroom, speaking into a mic.

Only now, it was me sitting in a quaint little studio in East, not too far from my flat and walking distance from any and every coffee chain London had to offer.

Anyway, back to the current show! I adjusted my headset over my ear as I wheeled closer to the table, aware of the many monitors and cables I was constantly trying to avoid and glanced upwards, locking eyes with my co-producer, Adi.

The girl shot me a hurried gesture, a circular wave of her hand that had me chuckling to myself even as I waved her off, knowing I’d already gotten off track one too many times this recording.

"Alright! It seems as though we've got to move on with the next segment of the show now! Unfortunately, Ads here has informed me that I can't just sit around all day and talk about Inhaler forever. A right shame that, don’t you think?”

I huffed theatrically, whilst Adi merely shook her head at me in return, dark ringlets brushing the length of her shoulders as she mouthed the word 'prick' through the thick sheet of plexiglass that separated us.

Ignoring that loving endearment in favour of continuing on with the commentary, I hoped I hadn’t steered too far off track, there was still a lot scheduled for today's show that I had yet to go over.

“So moving on!” I sighed into the mic and rubbed my palms together, “It seems like quite a few of you lot, on Twitter especially, have made it loudly known that you want to hear my thoughts on Manchester’s very own Matthew Healy. God, is there yet another scandal under his belt I don’t yet know about, where’s he finding the time?”

I shook my head briefly and rolled forward in my seat. The wheels squeaked beneath my weight and I made a silent prayer that the mics hadn’t picked up the sound.

What a fucking topic, I thought quietly to myself and sent Adi a semi-amused smile before I peered down at the recent headline she had handed over to me earlier that morning.

It was the same old thing. Expected really at this point.

“Healy’s at it again! Whatever will we do?” I gasped, dramatising the whole thing as I stared down at the images of the haughty singer that were plastered across the printout I held in front of me.

There were four of them, a quick succession that had all seemingly come from a clip at a recent concert. Bit blurry but the title gave away to what was happening.

A laugh bubbled up out of me as soon as I read the headline. “Oh god, it appears Matty Healy is- just wait for it!- back at it again, only this time it seems he’s gone and traded off a drumstick for…” I paused to drum quite the anticipating beat against the tabletop, and as stoic as I could, I then added, “A joint!” And a smug grin made its way up onto my lips when I heard Adi’s faint cackle echo from just outside the booth.

“Honestly, I swear that everything this man does makes the rags! Reckon I saw an article about how he took his tea one time. And like, do me a favour, yeah? A man of the people though, in’t he? He’s got to be! I mean, just look at this headline. Fucking who the hell writes this shit?”

Tossers, I supposed. But even so.

“It’s madness.” I muttered, clucking my tongue, “But anyway, I’m guessing that most people claim him to be the epitome of a realtime rockstar, and sure, he might just be. 'Sex, drugs, rock & roll', all that shit. But how much longer is it going to last until everything goes tits up, hey?

“I mean, Healy can pretty much do whatever he wants at this point, he’s got half the world either falling at his feet or complaining about him- has done since he was what, a kid? Following his parents among the shadows of their fame before he stepped out and made an actual name for himself. It is insane to see how much he’s changed though!”

And it was. He and his band had risen to fame so evidently, their music was everywhere, they sold out shows constantly, and had the privilege to fly across the globe doing whatever they pleased. But they’d also practically grown up in the limelight, Matty especially. So it was hard not to notice the resounding changes.

“But, if I am being truthful. And when am I not? I thought that most of the shit that went around about him at first was a load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that. Or just him being an idiot, a lad who’s had to grow up with all these cameras on him all the time and had to basically learn what he can and can’t say in front of them. Slipping up from time to time, like most do. But, now? I’m honestly not too sure… It’s just a bit sad. In’t it? There was so much potential there.”

I shrugged, a hearty sigh falling with my shoulders.

“I actually used to quite like his stuff a couple years ago, he’s got a way with words, with just music overall really. Reckon if he’d gotten his shit together he could’ve been ranked higher up on the list of rockstars. Could’ve changed or paved a way for newer musicians. But not so much anymore. His songs lack the passion they once had, they’re not what they used to be. He works hard, I’ll give him that. But, I can’t help but wonder if it’s just his band pulling his dead weight along with them now.”

I took a slow breath, then gazed down at the small amount of sticky notes I had pinned to the monitor beside me: the next segment. I’d have to wrap this one up quickly.

“Maybe that’s a bit harsh.” I said, “But honestly, I just hope he takes an actual break sooner rather than later. The band looks spent and he just seems like he could do with some time away from all the cameras and prying eyes. Just so he can sort himself out good and proper, you know? Then again, that’s just my opinion among a sea of many.”

Truthfully? I really did think that Matty had talent, and he seemed like a sound enough guy- or at least he had done, a couple of years back, before all the controversy and whatever else. Now though, the guy just seemed so caught up in it all, in the fame, the tabloids, the drama. Unaware of just how far he’d fallen.

Me, I’d seen it one too many times before, with many of the greats even, and as painful as it was to watch, what more could I do, or say? I'm a nobody in comparison.

I blew out a short breath.

“Fuck, that got all serious didn’t it?” I tried to laugh off and only felt a little more at ease when I glanced up and caught Adi’s sincere smile, “Anyway, onto our next segment, reading a couple of your lots tweets! Let's see what everyone's saying about our amazing Adi today, hey? What was it last week, Ads- those yellow trousers you were wearing?”

“Oi, will you two stop mucking about, please? We’ve got to get going!” I scolded without any real heat, shaking my head as I held back chuckles, always amused by the infamous pair.

I’d not long left the studio, having walked with Adi to the nearby train station before heading over to Finn’s, and was currently packing away the belongings that had been messily upended from the Spiderman backpack I was often seen carrying about.

My gaze wandered over to the other side of the room once I’d teethed together the bag’s plastic zipper, over to where my son, Teddy, was currently in the midst of being whirled around by his godfather, tawny coloured curls flying in every-which direction as his cheeky grin grew even more prominent.

I felt the corners of my mouth tug upwards as I watched my best mate laugh at whatever the toddler had just said, tickling the boy’s sides too. If I was feeling incredibly sappy, I’d tell Finn then just how thankful I was to have him around, because he truly was incredible.

From the moment I’d found out that I was pregnant, Finn had been there for me. He loved my son almost as though Teddy was his own, he adored the kid like no other and had placed him on a pedestal above everyone else since the day he was born.

Finn was always free to take teddy whenever I had the show to fret about too, or if I was ever in dire need of another helping hand. He was fiercely protective of the two of us and I knew in the very depths of my heart that there would never be a hair harmed on my son’s head as long as he was around.

I was pulled from my thoughts just as the toddler in question came bounding over, giggling uncontrollably as Finn chased after him, his arms stretched out wide and crouched down to mimic the small boy's height. I couldn't help but notice the matching grins they both wore.

“Help!” Teddy squealed as he flung himself into my awaiting arms, allowing me to wrap him up and settle him safely on my hip, using my frame as a shield to block him from Finn’s view.

"You can't hide from me Teds, I’ll always find you!" Finn taunted playfully, laughing merrily as he wiggled his fingers at Teddy, who was only just peeking out at him from over my shoulder.

Teddy squirmed in my grasp, giggling and screaming senselessly as he tried to dodge Finn’s oncoming hands that had since managed to softly graze his sides. I could only roll his eyes in fond exasperation, the pair never failing to brighten my day, and I couldn't help but feel ever so grateful for whatever being had brought Finn into both mine and Teddy’s lives.

You see, Finn was the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother, let alone a best friend. He’d been the family I’d never known I’d needed, a home away from home. And I knew that I could always count on him for just about anything and he had proved that the day I’d turned up on his doorstep in the pissing rain one Tuesday night, utterly terrified after having just found out that I was pregnant.

“Alright, you lot!” I began, batting away one of Finn’s oncoming hands as he made to grab at Teddy's tiny ankle. “We've got to get home in time for your bath and tea, and I think Finn here has to pick up Liv from work.”

I was directing my voice towards the toddler in my arms but also sent a knowing look Finn’s way, one which caused the man’s eyes to widen in immediate realisation. ‘Liv’ was actually Olivia, Finn’s newest fling, only she had managed to last quite a while longer than the rest, a new record for him really.

“Shit, yeah.” Finn muttered before he hurried over to his desk in the far corner. I could only chuckle quietly, Teddy joining in too when he noticed, and watch on as he hastily started to grab at an array of items, shoving them into his jean pockets. Phone. Wallet. Keys.

When he was finished, Finn spun back around towards us and shot an accusing brow our way, not too pleased about having been the source of our amassment. Teddy and I couldn't help ourselves then and laughed a little harder at his impervious expression.

With that done and over with, I pressed my nose against the side of Teddy's head and smiled contently into his curls whilst Finn merely rolled his eyes at us, chuckling before he made a start for the door. I followed just behind, Teddy's backpack slung low over my shoulder and a happy little boy nestled in my arms.

***

People lover @/user1 Imagine being a mediocre radio host and thinking you know the ins and outs of the music industry.. #CancelMouse 102 @/user2 Don't mind me, reckon I just found my new favourite radio show:) Ugh! @/user3 Mouse sounded proper excited today but switched up so quick when that 75 bloke came up:// Soloveme @/user4 Hate to see people supporting toxic behaviour, sit down. Milk @/user5 Don’t hate me, I'll forever be a matty girlie!! But @Mouseonamic I kinda agree?? Paris @/user6 Do you think he’s seen it yet? > Too_shy @/user7 Probably, it’s trending rn >> Drummepls @/user8 Hope he’s okay and doesn’t take it as a personal attack..

He should’ve known really.

He should’ve fucking known.

Even in his drunken state he should have known not to look at what they were fucking saying about him. Slumped on the floor of his hotel room, propped up against the bathroom door, too exhausted to think about moving, let alone try.

He’d only heard a snippet, caught the last of it in the cab ride back from the club the band had found themselves in. But he had heard it, and he’d listened.

"He's got the whole world falling at his feet." He fucking wished. "Changed." Too right. "A load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that- but now I'm not too sure." Laughable, man. "It's just a bit sad." The story of his fucking life. "Potential." When’s he never not disappointing someone? "Lacks passion." Passion lies in living, mate, and he hasn't felt alive in a very long time.

"Not what it used to be." Who he used to be.

He lit another cigarette from a crumpled pack he’d pulled from his back pocket. Watched on as a curl of smoke unfurled in the air. He only wished he’d brought something upstairs with him, or grabbed one of the little bottles from the minibar before deciding he’d needed a piss. But if he closed his eyes hard enough he could imagine it all going dark, the world fading around him.

Though, even then he still couldn’t quite muffle the loud, pitying laugh that escaped him as he continued to scroll through the mass of tweets that never faltered. They were like a freight train, unable to stop.

Matty wiped his nose on his sleeve.

Never had he ever felt so fucking lost. Desperate for everything to just pause for a second. To stop and leave him alone for a bit. The world to let him wallow in the dark, dank pit he's hollowed out for himself.

But what a fucking life, hey.

Carelessly, he thumbed across the dimming screen, his intoxicated mind too focused on the task at hand to remember why exactly it was he was even sitting there on the cold bathroom floor. Something to do with Hann, he supposed, or George. Perhaps another heated encounter? Probably.

The sound of his phone's keyboard echoed off the surrounding walls and Matty breathed out a self-depreciating chuckle when he clicked send on the tweet he’d curated, not caring enough for the consequences. Hardly even thinking, in truth. He was far too gone to care anymore, already knew firsthand what the consequences would be tomorrow. But at that moment, he just wanted honesty. To tell the truth, for once. To let them all know that he knew he was a shit excuse for a person.

What more could the world possibly say anyway?

Everyone around him was the same. He was simply just a puppet on a string. They’d make him sing and dance until the day he finally wrapped those wired strings tightly around his neck, and then all they'd be able to do is sit back and watch the show. And he'd enjoy every unabating second of it.

Matty @/trumanblack 10s ago Radio shows are sick man, gotta love them! And I sort of am sad haha. And I do lie, we all lie, I spose. But just listen to the radio, kids!

He laughed silently after, amused with himself, and tossed the phone off somewhere off to the side so he wouldn’t have to look at it again.

Bullshit. It was all just fucking bullshit.

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