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marvelslut16 · 1 year ago

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The Incident

Prompt number: 14 "If you don't stop now-"

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Rating: T(een)

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Swearing. Cannon typical gore- but not too detailed. Insecure reader. Mean Steve. Nightmares. Demodogs. Embarrassing parents.

A/N: This bad boy has been sitting in my drafts for over a year now, I'm so glad I found the motivation to finish it and post it for Fictober!

You’re leaned up against the counter at family video as Steve complains for what feels like the thousandth time about how much he misses Nancy. You roll your eyes at Robin who’s standing behind the counter as Steve’s voice carries over the shelves of the empty store. The entire time you’ve known Steve he’s been obsessed with Nancy, and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. She’s not that special and she clearly doesn’t love him.

“You’re such a masochist,” you sigh when he comes back to the counter to get more VHS’ to put away.

“A what?” his voice is hard, he’s confused by the word but he knows the implication is insulting.

“A masochist, it means you like pain and humiliation,” Steve is glaring at you, and not a playful one you're used to, this one is full of hatred. You know you should stop, especially with the look he’s giving you, but your mouth has a mind of its own and it just keeps talking. “I mean seriously, that's the only reason I can think of that you’re still acting like this. Nancy’s with Jonathan, she’s in love with him. Hence why she’s visiting him in California over break right now. She’s also told me that she doesn’t want kids and you’ve said more than once that you want your own little basketball team, you two will never work out. I don’t mean to be rude or mean in any way, I just don’t want you to keep hurting yourself over someone who isn’t into you.”

“I don’t know why you think I’d take relationship advice from someone who’s never been in one. You were a nobody before I met you, and let’s face it, you’re still a nobody now,” you can feel tears welling up at his words, but you refuse to cry in front of him, refuse to give him the satisfaction of your tears. It hurts so much because he’s voicing your inner fears, he must not be lying if he feels how you imagined he must be feeling. “The only reason you have friends is because you clung to us after the whole demodog incident, you didn’t give us a choice.”

“Steve!” Robin jumps in, seeing the hurt on your face and the tears in your eyes. She knows Steve is only lashing out because you’re right and he doesn’t want to admit it, but she can also tell that he’s about to lose your friendship. “If you don’t stop now-”

“It’s fine Robin,” you can’t muster a voice louder than a whisper. “Steve’s right, I have no room to talk. My break at the arcade is almost over, so I better get going.”

You spend the rest of your shift behind the counter as silent tears slip down your cheeks. Steve’s words replaying in your head over and over again, your heart fracturing more and more each time. You’re disappointed, but not surprised, when Steve doesn’t stop in to check on you and apologize when his shift is over. You know Robin would have stopped in to talk, had Steve not been driving her home after work.

The next few days are a blur of tears and work. You don’t go over to family video once, and he doesn’t come to the arcade. Robin calls you every night to try and get you to open up about your feelings, but you never do. You wish she would just let it go and let you go back to not having friends, just like Steve said. And when the party, minus Mike- who’s still in California, come into the arcade and you hope they won’t notice you.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Dustin spots you almost instantly, you sigh at the promise of his meddling. “Are we still on for movie night this weekend? Forcing Steve to watch the best trilogy known to man?”

“I can’t this weekend Dustin,” your heart hurts a little when the boy's excited grin turns into a frown. But you have to remind yourself that none of them actually care for you, they only include you in things because you’ve forced yourself on them.

“Okay, when are you free next week?” he tries to reschedule, but you won’t fall for his caring act.

“I’m not, school starts back up next week and I won’t have time between that and work to have a movie night. You two have it without me, you’ll probably have more fun anyway.”

Dustin walks away confused and dejected, but there isn’t much else for you to say. It’s awkward the rest of your shift, the party spending all day there, where they throw glances your way the whole time. As if your day couldn’t get any worse, when your mom picks you up from work, she wants to go to Family Video and rent a movie for family night this weekend.

“So you’re Steve and Robin?” your mom asks, setting Back To The Future on the counter. It took her twenty long minutes to decide on a movie that she’s already rented, twice.

“Yes ma’am,” Robin answers, using her professional voice. You take small steps back, seeing the writing on the wall, you desperately want to get out of there before she can continue.

“Well I’ll be,” your mom lets out a little laugh. “When my (Y/N) said she was friends with the Robin and Steve that work here, I never would have guessed she meant Steve Harrington, former star of the Hawkins basketball and Swim teams.”

“(Y/N/N) is great,” Steve says awkwardly, like he’s trying to force something nice about you out. “We’ve been friends for a few years now.”

“Mom, can we go now?” you practically beg, wanting nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“C’mon sweetie, I’m just trying to meet your friends,” she turns back to the two behind the counter. “She just goes on and on about you two, all good things of course! I’m just so happy she’s made such good friends.”

“Okay mom,” you whine, taking another step back. “You’ve embarrassed me enough, let's just hurry up and rent the movie.”

Thankfully, Robin takes pity on you and quickly starts ringing your mother up, but not without trying to upsell her some candy because it will give her a commission. Your mom finally settles on buying some Sno Caps, and you can practically taste sweet freedom as she hands Robin some cash. But Steve ruins that when he opens his big fat- gorgeous- mouth.

“(Y/N/N), we finally got Fright Night in, if you still want to rent it,” you wrinkle your nose, it was a movie you were supposed to watch with him and Robin, far far away from your parents.

“That horror movie?” your mom asks in disgust, giving you an obvious look of disappointment. “She’s not allowed to watch horror movies, especially not with all of her nightmares!”

“Mom, please,” you mutter, trying to pull her away from the counter, away from Steve, and out of the damn store.

“Nightmares?” Steve asks, his face instantly softening. “You’ve never told me about your nightmares.”

“She wakes up screaming about some stupid dogs,” your mother tells him, and your eyes well up with tears of embarrassment. “It’s every single night.”

Steve’s words from earlier this week play in your head on repeat ‘you clung to us after the demodog incident, you didn’t give us a choice.’ It feels like all of the air is being sucked out of your lungs as your mom reveals your deepest darkest secret- one she’ll never understand. She’ll never understand what it was like that day, wandering through the woods when all of a sudden this dog-like creature with a cone head is standing in front of you and its face opening like a deadly flower. She’ll never know what it was like being knocked off her feet when that thing jumped on her and only being saved at the very last minute when the King of Hawkins himself whacked that thing off with a nailed bat. She’ll never know what it was like to be that close to death, that close to just being another Barb, disappearing without a trace.

Of course it haunts you, it was a near death experience, and you certainly can’t talk to a professional about it. No one would believe you, and they would probably lock you up in some mental institution if you ever muttered a word of it. You do your best to forget it day in and day out, but every time night rolls around you always remember every single detail; like how hot the demodogs breath was, or how many rows of teeth it had, how heavy it was on top of you.

“I’m gonna go now,” you hold back the tears as you race out the movie store’s front door. You can feel the burning gazes of both Steve and Robin on your retreating figure, but you can’t be by them. You can’t explain this to them. You’re going to have to move within the next day or two so you don’t have to face them ever again.

The ride home from the movie store is dead silent, not even an apology from your mother for telling your friends about your nightmares. All you get from her are side eyes and glares, you can tell she’s silent seething because you were planning to disobey her and watch a horror movie. What she doesn’t understand is that horror movies help, the fake gore and the illogical plots somehow comfort you and make you feel better about what you’ve gone through.

You go straight to your room, forgoing dinner to just sob into your pillow. Not only have you lost your friends, but now they know just how pathetic you truly are. All you have are nightmare after nightmare, waking up screaming and crying more times than you can count. This time Steve doesn’t come to rescue you, he just stares from the sidelines with that same glare he gave you the day of the fight, and no one else tries to step in and help you. You’re all alone.

No matter how bad of a night you had, or how much you begged to stay home from work, your mother forced you to go. She drives you there and waits outside until you go in, you can see through the windows that she waited a whole five minutes before leaving so you can’t sneak out. The drive over she was going on and on about responsibility and being an adult, and how you can’t just bail on your duties because you had one bad night. You would’ve come to work today no problem, tired but with no complaints, if the Arcade wasn’t right next to Family Video. Right next to Steve.

Most of your day goes smoothly, just rowdy preteens playing the twenty arcade games you have squished in there, nothing horrible happening. That is until around two in the afternoon when the door jingles and your eyes zero in on that unmistakable hair in the doorway. You contemplate running and hiding in the back room, but losing your job for leaving the floor unmanned is the last thing you want or need to add to the very large load of crap your life is becoming.

Even if you had decided to hide in the back room, Steve is in front of you at the counter quicker than you could have hid. You refuse to look him in the eye, instead looking at the shiny nametag glinting in the few overhead lights. He stares at you for what feels like forever before finally sighing and then talking.

“Why didn’t you tell me you have nightmares?” he cuts right to the chase,, his voice is monotonous and you can’t tell if he’s trying to sympathize with you or come off condescending.

“We all have our secrets,” you sneer, not understanding why he’s being nice to you all of a sudden. “It’s not like you care, so just drop it.”

“You don’t mean that-” you cut him off with a glare, finally looking into his puppy dog eyes. The ones you used to melt in every time he looked at you.

“Like hell I don’t!” you whisper harshly, not trying to draw attention from the kids in the Arcade. “You don’t care. Steve. So for both of our sakes, please stop pretending like you do. What I said the other day was harsh, but I meant it from a place of love and caring. What you said the other day was a low blow and said to hurt me. Let’s just go back to how things used to be, neither of us acknowledging that the other exists.”

You turn to go hide in the back room, job security be damned, you just need to get away from Steve. He can’t see you cry over him, you refuse to let him. But his hand catches your wrist, spinning you around to face him again.

“I do care about you (Y/N), and I didn’t mean what I said,” he grips your hand harder, pulling you closer to the class case that divides you. “I was embarrassed because you were right, you always are, and I wasn’t ready to hear it. If I could go back and keep myself from saying those things, I would do it in a heartbeat!”

“Your life will be just fine without me, and soon enough you’ll just forget about me, I’ll just be that girl you see around town, the one you used to know.”

“No it won’t, don’t say that!” Steve cups your face, making sure you make eye contact with him before continuing. “Life without you would suck, it would be so boring. What would I do without that adorable little giggle you make when I tell a horrible joke? Or the way you ramble excitedly about the things you love? Or the cute way you scrunch your nose when you're confused or embarrassed? What would I do without your goodnight calls and our coordinated lunch breaks? How would I survive without you lighting up every single room you walk in? Without you lighting up my life? You’re everything to me (Y/N), and I’m sorry it took me losing you to realize it. And if you give me the chance, I will spend the rest of my life apologizing to you for what I said and doing my best to scare away those nightmares.”

“Do you really mean that?” you sniffle, a single tear falling from your eye.

“I do, I mean it,” Steve says with so much conviction as he wipes the tear from your cheek. “I love you. Not Nancy, you. It’ll always be you.”

“I love you too, I always have,” your wet laugh is cut off by a searing kiss.

#fictober23 #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things one shot #steve harrington one shot

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yoongikapi · 6 months ago

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meeting at a cafe || NJ/SJ/YG || oneshot

fluff

masterlist

NOT PROOFREAD! found this in my drafts from like over a year ago, figured i’d post. lmk if you want the other members!

namjoon:

your laptop notified you for the second time, reminding you to find an outlet soon. you broke your gaze away from your screen after what seemed like days, frantically searching for an outlet around the crowded coffee shop. you lit up when you noticed an outlet at the nearby corner table; gathering your stuff you began to walk over but hesitated when you noticed someone was already sitting over there. you did notice however, they weren’t using the outlet but sat across from it. your heart quickened when your laptop flashed its final warning to be charged and you rushed over to the outlet across from the stranger. you quickly plugged it in and were instantly relieved that you weren’t gonna lose your work. you looked up to the stranger and were met with the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. although he flashed a confused look, you felt your face heat up as you stared back at the attractive stranger.

“im sorry, i really needed to charge my laptop, do you mind if i leave it here for a while? i’ll just go sit back over there.” you frantically said, instantly realizing how rude this must have seemed. he shook his head back, his confused look from earlier had disappeared. “not at all, i dont mind if you stay either.” he flashed you a friendly smile and you suddenly realized you’d rather stay too. you smiled back and thanked him, quietly sitting across from him and opened your textbooks back up. you wanted to talk to him some more but didnt want to bother him, and so you tried to focus back on your work. it seemed so obvious yet unspoken that he was feeling the same, but it still remained quiet on both ends. after getting some work done you quietly (yet slowly) packed your bags. you thanked him again and headed off but didnt get very far when he caught up to you.

“i just wanted to let you know that i didnt mind you being around at all. this is for you” he said, handing you a small, folded up piece of paper. “i hope to see you again” he smiled one last time and rushed back into the cafe. you almost dropped the unfolded paper in shock. blushing heavily, you quickly added his contact information into your phone, smiling at the thought of seeing him again.

jin:

you walked in your favorite cafe for the third time this week and dashed straight up in line. you had been here so much since it opened that you didnt need to look at the menu anymore, you already had your favorites picked out. as you waited for the person in front of you to order, you noticed the one barista who stood out to you was working today. you smiled and wondered what crazy thing he’d write on your mug today. as you put your order in you noticed him turn and look at you, almost as if he had your order memorized as well. he smiled when he saw you and you noticed, smiling back. he turned and began making your order as you headed over to your favorite spot in the shop. you stopped working when you heard your name being called. looking up and realizing it was him, you jumped up to grab your order, secretly liking the way he said your name.

“just the way you like it” he smiled, handing you the hot beverage. you thanked him and made your way back to your table. taking your seat, you immediately began to search for his usual writing spot on your mug but was interrupted by a call. it was your boss asking you to come in and help with some work, to which you quickly agreed and began packing up your bags. you had forgotten all about the writing on the mug until you got to your office at work.

‘been thinking about you a latte’ it read and you laughed. making a mental note to think of a cheesy pickup line back for the next time you saw him.

(i’m sorry but jin is the king of dad jokes)

yoongi:

after placing your coffee order you went and sat in a chair in the corner of the store, deciding to pass the time by sitting on your phone. a couple of names were called and then yours, so you made your way to the pickup counter but was confused when you didnt see your coffee. you stood around for a second, thinking maybe they hadn’t quite finished it yet, but realized this wasn’t the case when they continued calling out other customers names. you nervously asked the barista if they were still working on yours and gave them your name again. you grew even more confused when they told you yours was finished and put out already. no way someone stole my coffee. it was the only logical thing that could’ve happened to it. upset but in a bit of a rush, you began heading out of the store when you heard someone else in the store say your name. you turned and saw a confused man looking around but his eyes met yours when you tuned. he said it again and you nodded in confusion until you saw him hold up what looked like your coffee. your face lit up as you headed over to him.

“im sorry i grabbed your coffee in a rush thinking it was mine.” he quickly apologized, but instead of handing it to you he took it back over to the baristas. he walked back over to you empty handed; “i had a couple of sips before i realized it wasn’t mine, im having them make you a new one.” he explained. you told him he didnt need to do that, but you appreciated it. you noticed he had a bunch of other coffees with him and decided to ask him about it to make conversation while you waited. he explained to you that he was starting a new internship and wanted to make a good first impression. you smiled when he told you which company he’d be working at; it was yours. you explained with a smile on your face that you also worked there and wouldn’t mind walking with him to work. and so when the rest of his coffees were done, you helped him carry some to work and laughed at the thought of him doing it himself.

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burtonsdoodles · 2 months ago

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I just found this in my drafts from WAY BACK when I was first noticing loads of the mirroring moments in Lone Star and since the new season begins airing this week (not that I’m gonna be able to watch it, being in the uk where Disney + won’t put it on until well after… I’m gonna have to avoid so much stuff… 😒) i thought I’d just post it, because it’s these little connective moments that I love and appreciate so much in storytelling… and one of the reasons why 911: Lone Star will always remain a standout show…

Some of these are more random and possibly unintentional than others, but I noticed them and jotted them down anyway…

The “he’s impressive” moment…

101: Carlos to T.K. about Owen

110: Carlos to owen about T.K.

208: Owen to Gabriel about Carlos

“Soulmates”…

105: T.K.: [when asked about facing rejection] “116 days ago when I asked my soulmate to marry me and he moved in with his trainer instead”

416: Carlos: “I’ll say hi, you’re T.K., I’m Carlos and we’re soulmates”

The red jumpsuit… (the likelihood is someone probably just really this jumpsuit)

201: Worn by gwyn in her first scene

414: Worn by Tommy when she address the congregation

Cookies…

T.K. during ice storm plot - making cookies with Gwyn

Carlos in 404 - Trudy forcing him to try the cookie she made

Instincts…

208 - Carlos: I trusted my instincts like you always taught me. Gabriel: the thing is son, you’ve got to have the right instincts. (this breaks my heart every time!)

404 - Gabriel: my son’s resourceful and he can take care of himself. Grier: I have no doubt that’s how you raised him. Gabriel: no, he figured that out on his own. (I love this moment every time!)

Bad call…

208: Owen and Carlos’s heart to heart over smoothies - when Carlos didn’t actually make a bad call

418: Owen and Carlos’s heart to heart over whatever alcohol they’re drinking - when Carlos very nearly did make a bad call

Uniform…

208 - Carlos: not that I have a uniform at the moment

404 - Darryl: where’s your uniform?

We make a good team…

110: T.K. and Carlos

212: Owen and Gabriel

Hey Carlos. Hey ….

101: Carlos arresting Michelle

301: Carlos arresting Marjan

You sure this is where you wanna be…?

103: To TK: You sure you’re in the right place, man?

308: To Gwyn: Lady, you sure this is where you wanna be?

Milkman Judd…

411: Judd is the milkman in Mateo’s dream

417: Judd brings in Owen’s milk from outside

I know you’re [not] ready…

204: salim to marjan: I know you’re not ready to get married yet, but I am… just not to you

412: Carlos to tk: I know you’re ready to be a father. And I have no doubt that you would be an amazing one. But I’m not so sure I’m there yet… or ever will be…

And that’s as far as I got with it - I wouldn’t be surprised if there are loads more that I missed… and we’ll see what season 5 brings because I expect a lot will be coming with this final season… there already was one in the trailer and when I heard it I knew this was gonna be an epic finale.

#my random thoughts #911 lone star #lone star #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #owen strand #marjan marwani #paul strickland #mateo chavez #judson ryder #my random stuff #mirroring #writing #text post

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thisisnotmeta · 10 months ago

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Million Dollar Man

Chapter 1

Sent.

There it was—my very first music contract signed.

My hands swiped back and forth between the 'sent' and 'draft' inboxes, confirming the reality of the moment. The air shuddered with anticipation as I blankly stared at my inbox, silently praying for a reply in the mere 1.4 seconds since I hit 'send.'

Fresh out of university last year, I found myself grappling with the realisation that I needed to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Studying history had its limits—teaching or diving into more debt for a specialised master's degree were the conventional routes. However, nestled in the corners of my life was my little secret—I'd always been a songwriter. It wasn't something anyone really knew about until 3 months ago. After a drunken night in with my mum, I mustered the courage to share one of my demos with her. Her insistence that it was the greatest piece of music she'd ever heard, albeit the expected maternal praise, boosted my confidence. The morning after, armed with nothing more than my shitty Amazon mic and GarageBand, I sent three of my best demos to four different music labels across the country.

In the agonising months of waiting for a reply from any label, hope slipped through my fingers with each passing day. Just when despair threatened to engulf me, a glimmer of possibility emerged two weeks ago. Emails from two labels requesting in-person meetings to discuss my music further landed in my inbox, a lifeline amid the silence. Navigating a whirlwind 24-hour trip to London, I juggled the meetings, fueled by a mix of nerves and excitement. Having returned to my parents' home post-university, my part-time receptionist job became the financial anchor for one day moving out and starting my own new little life.

The journey from the North to London felt long, god it was so long, yet the promise of these potential signings kept me going. The meetings with both labels exceeded expectations, but Dirty Hit held a specific pull on me. They not only understood my musical aspirations but, to my disbelief, I met specifically with the label's founder, Jamie Oborne. A stark contrast to the very very lovely but somewhat underwhelming talent scout at the other label, Dirty Hit resonated with me on every level—the sound, the artists, the team. It felt like a perfect fit, a musical home where my compositions seamlessly blended with their illustrious discography.

The dream was a reality when Jamie extended the signing offer. Without hesitation, I accepted. The train ride back, though again, immensely long, was some of the best fun I’ve ever had. Amidst the clatter of the tracks, I scribbled down fragments for future songs, mapped out my imaginary world tour, envisioned albums, and even planned my Met Gala outfit. The euphoria of realising a lifelong dream had just basically become a reality in a matter of months hadn’t given me any time to process anything. But I was absolutely ready to potentially start something absolutely amazing. And here I was sitting in front of my MacBook, staring blankly at my Gmail.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind, a lot of online meetings, emailing and future discussing. Jamie liked my demos and wanted to get them produced and mixed professionally as well as teach me how to do it myself. I travelled back to London a few times in the weeks prior to practice and test with different producers the team thought I’d mix well with. My most successful session was my most recent, as Dirty Hit expensed a hotel for me for two nights in London to focus on my time in the studio. Ben Gleason, one of Dirty Hit’s leading producers, was someone who truly understood my music and shaped it in a way that I could genuinely hear one of my demos appearing on the radio, it was crazy. His vision and expertise were admirable to anyone. My demo, over the past 15 hours we worked on it, had turned into a real, titled potential single – ‘Million Dollar Man’.

Before I was sent to travel back home, we sent it off to the team to listen to and give feedback. It was a success, thank god. Waiting for the train to come in at Kings Cross, the sound of my ringtone filled my headphones. As I looked at my phone, I wasn’t fazed by the ‘unknown’ number and filled my boredom by answering it anyway.

‘Hello?’ I said in a slow voice, totally expecting some type of phone provider or accident scam, which usually came with answering unknown numbers.

“Hi, is this Camille?” A chirpy, womanly voice replied back to me.

“It is, yeah,” I replied nonchalantly. “Who is this, sorry?”

“Perfect! It’s Holly from Dirty Hit,” She replied. My breathing hitched, okay this phone call was important then and not just fun. This must be Jamie’s assistant, who I met a couple times through our Zoom meetings. “Thought I’d give you a little ring, so you can get my number saved and so I can update you on some things! We’ve just had a meeting today about what we want to do with you in the next few weeks and we went through everything you talked about, and we were thinking about potentially focusing you more on studio time right now, and we are wanting you to build on the songs you are in the process of and create one really really strong song that we can put out as your debut. What are your thoughts on that?”

“I think that’s a great idea! Ben and I were brainstorming a lot of songs that had great potential, so it would be cool to work with him again,” I practically begged through the phone. Ben is most definitely my favourite producer in the three I’d worked with in the short time. As much as I think Million Dollar Man is perfect, there are so many that might even end up better.

“Yeah, Ben is one of the best, especially for your sound,” she agrees, pausing for a second as she clicks what sounds like a pen and takes time to write something down. “We were thinking of sending you and a couple of our producers on a work getaway and maybe taking the time that you are there to write some songs and find your own dynamic with them, what do you think?”

“Of course, I’d love to!” I exclaim through the phone. Walking through the station to get to my soon departing train back home. Amazing, more studio work, more song writing - I have been dreaming of getting phone calls like this for years.

I have so many ideas in my head and written in my notebook just waiting to be explored with real professionals like Ben. I just prayed silently in my head that my quick praise of him would lead them sending him on the getaway along with whoever else they wanted to send with me - probably Joel or Vanna, the other two producers I had worked with in the time I’d been here. Joel’s sound was old school and he loved that classic drum in the background. Of course I didn’t hate it; he always made it sound gorgeous, but I loved the more earthy, tender sounds - songs that you could sit in the bath and vibe/pour your eyes out to. Vanna’s sound was cool, she worked a lot with the 1975, Dirty Hit’s biggest signing. Working with her was very fun, hearing about her stories with them and lots of other big musicians she has produced allowed me to have a little fangirl moment a couple times in the studio.

“Do you have an idea on which producers are coming along?” I continued.

“I’m just gonna give Ben a call and see when he’s available,” she replied. Yes! Thank god. “Thought I’d give you a call first before I called anyone else… but I know you haven’t met yet but Jamie thinks it would be a great opportunity to work with Matty aswell.”

“Matty… Healy, from the 1975?” I stutter. Surely not, I know he worked with Baebadoobee and a couple others on their latest work but surely he wouldn’t take the time to work with someone who’s just starting, would he? I wasn’t a huge 1975 fan, but I knew of their songs and Matty’s work and I admired them a lot. I’d kill to get to the level they are, but all in good time.

“Yeah, actually!” She laughed slightly through the phone. Woah. “He actually works a lot with our artists to establish their sound, you know what I mean? and he’s really talented, I promise. He was a part of our meeting today and he’s got a lot of good ideas that I think you’ll like, not to mention all the advice he can give you with starting out and he can talk you through his own experiences as well.”

“That’s amazing, I love his work!” I smile to myself, probably looking like an idiot in front of all these serious, fast walking Londoners. It seems so unbelievable that Matty Healy would take any time out of his busy schedule to work on my music, he must be bored. “If that’s something he is interested in, then I’d absolutely love to work together on something.”

“Okay, that’s perfect!” She replied. “No, he’s very interested, don’t worry. He went with Beabadoobee on a work getaway a few months ago, working on some new stuff and they made some gorgeous music - think he just wants the bragging rights again really. But, honestly he’s a star, you'll love him.”

As I was settling myself down on the busy train, Holly was writing down my best dates for the trip and ended the phone call pleasantly soon after. A Sunday to Wednesday a few weeks from now was the time they had written down for Matty’s availability and that worked with me! God knows where they were going to take us, but I couldn’t help but get excited. Me, Ben and sexy Matty Healy. I just hope he’s not a dick.

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rexmeshlasblog · 6 months ago

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Give up?!

Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader

Summary: Jedi Reader wants to train during shore leave, ‘cause she got defeated by Ventress on their last mission. Commander Wolffe offers himself as her sparring partner.

Word count: 1700 words

Warnings: feelings, fluff, battle, fighting, war, use/mentioning of guns and war stuff, use of Y/N, Female MC, mentions of loss, intimate moment, cuteness, sexual tension, flirting, teasing, scared of losing in a match and losing people, bit angsty maybe?, Canon typical violence

A/N: Let me know if you like how I write Wolffe and what I could do better. (Not just with character arc but also with my writing style) thank you for reading.

Ps I just found this in my drafts from like a year ago and thought its time to finally post it.

Where the kriff was he? Commander Wolffe, my sparring partner on this evening, was late for our first session. Normally he was always in time, but today, when the 104th left the cruiser for shore leave, he wasn’t.

I was walking up and down the training room while waiting. Biting my lip and clenching my fists over and over again. It made me more anxious than it should, that he made me wait for him.

Maybe he just forgot our arrangement, which consisted of him training with me my hand to hand combat skills, but I hoped he didn’t. I needed him to get better and back in my original shape.

Our last mission was a pretty tough one. We lost good men and friends. They were a part of this family and I wasn’t good enough to safe all of them. It was a misery.

To our surprise Ventress was with the droid army and I had to fight against her. While I tried my best to protect my men and myself I wasn’t able to defeat the woman with her red lightsabers. She was too strong and I too distracted at the wrong moment. Which she used.

Master Plo Koon was the one who had to save me. Luckily he came right in time as Ventress was about to shatter my heart. She nearly killed me and when I closed my eyes just a bit I still felt the heat of her lightsaber on my skin.

A shiver ran through me. It was a close one this time. Death was never as near as in this exact moment. Her lightsaber was on me and ready to slide right through. Thats what this thing was made for, but still I quite couldn’t believe how fast I could’ve been dead. There were screams around me from different troopers. Barking commands. It was Wolffe who screamed my name as Ventress was about to kill me. I’d looked at him as he tried to reach me, but he was way too far away to save me. As I reached through his force signature I just felt pure panic and angst. We held eye contact for what felt like forever before I noticed the figure appearing behind me. My old beloved Master was the hero in last minute. After all I came away with a scar on my chest. Lucky me.

The day after, when I still had to be in the medbay, the Commander offered me to train with him. At least for the time in shore leave. Then we’d see how much progress I made and decide if I’d still need his training, but I was confident that I’d need it. Obviously I would ask him to keep training with me, not just, because I wanted to stay in shape and don’t want to get killed as easily. But also because I kinda had a thing for the grumpy Commander with just one original eye.

“There you are”, I greeted him with a small smile.

Wolffe finally arrived only grunting something, which you could call one of his friendlier greetings. I was grateful that he didn’t seem in the baddest mood. Surprising that I could tell by now how his mood was depending on how he grunted and furrowed his eyebrows. Wolffe was a grumpy one and so you had to check the waters before you let the cat slip out of the bag. When I saw him hours ago he was shouting at some Shinies which broke the caf machine. A hilarious picture to look at. Wolffe had this big furrow between his eyebrows and that annoyed look in his eyes and was obvious on the edge of his nerves while the Shinies looked like they wanted to run away as fast and as wide as they were able to do.

Wolffe was only in his blacks as I noticed now. Showing off his muscles and letting zero to the imagination. I gulped feeling the heat in my cheeks growing. Kriffing maker.

“What would you like to start with, General?”, he asked politely. His voice sounded deeper than normally. If he noticed my darkening cheeks, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Maybe some simple sparring? Just starting easy in this session.“ Starting easy. Yes, for sure.

Wolffe only nodded. I knew that the clones were good at fighting. Not just with their blasters, but also with their hands and body’s. So it was clear that it would be a difficult task to defeat Wolffe.

A few seconds later I was already on the floor again. I stopped counting after the fifth time. And I was a Jedi? Not even able to protect myself without my lightsaber and the force. How should I protect others then?

Above me Wolffe smirked a grin right out of hell. He was enjoying this far too much.

“Already giving up, General?“ One eyebrow raised a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. There was a sparkle in Wolffes eyes one I rarely saw and which he only showed when he was truly in the mood for some fun.

“You think I’m defeated after a few times on the ground? Then you don’t know me well enough, Commander.“ With a simple jump I was right back on my feet. My arms in front of me in a defensive position. Wolffe switched into fighting position right away, but not before giving me a sarcastic eye roll. He really was one of a kind.

“Then we keep going.“ Wolffe murmured more to himself.

Half an hour was going by. Wolffe only hitting the floor a few times when I remembered some old Jedi tricks from time to time. But now, while he was also slowly losing his power, his movements were slower and less precise. A advantage I’d happily use. I had saved my strength to be able to counterattack at the right moment, when he’d get more tired.

Just as Wolffe was about to punch me in the stomach, a spot I had deliberately left uncovered, I grabbed his other arm, twisted it behind his back and threw him to the ground, all while also pulling his feet away. Too bad I hadn't calculated that he could pull me along with him, because that's exactly what he did. Wolffe grabbed my jedi robe and I fell right with him to the floor. Me above him. For a second I hesitated before I used the position to pin his arms and legs with my own. I got him. The big bad Wolffe was defeated.

“Give up?“ I asked out of breath. Wolffes breathing was as heavy and loud as my one while his chest brushed over mine with every deep breath he and I took. I felt his breath on my lips. His pupils were blowing wide and sweat visible on his forehead. He smelled better than I expected. More like himself and less like everyone else on the ship. More like the real Commander and not the cheap lemon soap the Clones got.

As I noticed now he was wearing a small smirk again. “You should know better.“ And with that he used his power and rolled us over. Now he was on top of me. One of his legs between mine while he pinned my hands above my head. Wolffe was obviously stronger and every attempt to break free failed.

“Give up, Mesh`la?“ Eyebrows raised and a confident smile was all I could see. Kriff, he really got me now. Unless I’d use this situation and my body to my advantage.

“I don’t know, you tell me Wolffe“, I whispered against his lips.

Wolffe growled under his breath before he brushed his lips against mine. Now I got him where I wanted.

“You’re doing things to me you don’t know ‘bout“, he mumbled deeply and I was sure that he felt my heart drumming against his chest. Wolffe had this special power over me and it was clear that I made him feel the same way. We never spoke about our feelings, but we both knew, that this between us was something more than a friendship. Maybe a dangerous game, because if anyone found out about our mutual feelings, they would take each other away from us. After the war, I always told myself, maybe after the war there’d be an opportunity to get together, but not now.

Wolffes hands which pinned mine loosened its grip while one of it went straight to my waist. His eyes were hooded and his breath was quicker than usual. The Commander really thought our little game was over.

“Maybe you should tell or show me then.“

His breath hitched after my respond, “I don’t want to scare you off.“ His eyes were showing pain I’d never seen in them before. Was he scared of losing me? He could never. I knew about his reputation. He was the big bad wolf the little Shinies and other clones were afraid of. But I wasn’t scared of his hard case. I actually adored it. It made him intriguing.

“I’m a Jedi. It’s not easy to scare me off, Wolffe. And you’re definitely not someone I could ever be scared of.“

He shrugged, wanting to say something, but before he could, I wrapped my legs around his hips and turned us over once again.

“Who has the upper hand now?“ I smirked. This time pining him, so he couldn’t roll us over once again.

“Looks like you won this time, Cyare.“

“Obviously, Commander.“

I got up to my feet, before giving Wolffe a helping hand which he agreed to take. This little moment between us was over.

“But I don’t think the Clankers will fall for a move as such.“ Was all he said all while giving my butt a little smack, as I was slowly walking away. All I could do was smirk. Typical Wolffe.

I winked at him, “You aren’t one of the Droids and also, it was a move I specially made up for you.“

Wolffe crossed his arms, not before giving me one last of his typical eye rolls. “See ya, Wolffie.“

I heard him chuckle while walking away. Excited how our next interaction would go on.

#clone wars #jedi reader #fanfiction #oneshot #star wars #command Wolffe x jedi reader #star wars the clone wars #star wars one shot #commander wolffe #sw tcw #commander Wolffe x reader #clone wars one shot

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storiesofleftoverghosts · 2 years ago

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dating the batboys... and their Taylor Swift songs (1/2)

pairings: Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader, Dick Grayson x GN!Reader

warnings: none

requested?: nope!

a/n: FOR SOME REASON MY TUMBLR ACTED UP AND POSTED ONE OF MY DRAFTS OH MY GOD IM SO EMBARRASSED. but of course my first work is Taylor Swift related. for those wondering, i don’t know if i’ll be doing romantic Damian Wayne anytime soon. just feels a bit weird. anyway! also I just wanted to get something out for people to see my writing style. expect part two with Jason and Tim tomorrow.

Bruce Wayne

as much as I love Bruce, I’m 100% a believer that it would be somewhat difficult to be in a relationship with him

i mean look at his taste in partners...

of course it’s because he’s Batman and he’s a secret vigilante blah blah blah

but also because he is Bruce Wayne!

THE BRUCE WAYNE

he is literally Kim Kardashian status people

which means if you start dating him, you’re going to have to constantly deal with paparazzi, people digging into your personal life, etc.

and that’s just the surface level

the man has a lot of undealt with trauma and doesn’t believe he deserves love

plus he’s not one to open up about his emotions

I’d feel like there’d be a lot of arguments where Bruce goes too far trying to be protective because he doesn’t want to lose you but he doesn’t explicitly say that so he comes off as being a dick

do not expect this man to verbally apologize if you get into any arguments

he’ll apologize to you in his own way of course

if he was injured while on his nightly duties, he would distance himself from you while he healed (before you found out he was Batman)

would hesitantly let you patch him up because he doesn’t want you to see him as weak (after you find out)

once you do find out about his double life, expect Bruce to forbid you from trying to become a vigilante

he’s lost friends, past lovers, hell eventually even his own son

he would not let you do anything involving it and that’s finally

sorry dude

but it’s not too bad

Bruce loves you with his full heart

and he would do just about anything for you

no doubt in my mind this man would spoil you rotten

getting to see the somewhat soft side of Bruce more often than anyone else

not too big on PDA but once it’s just you two, this man cannot keep his hands to himself

going to one of his galas once you guys publicly announce your relationship and getting slightly overwhelmed from it all

him pulling you off to the side and making sure you’re okay

Alfred becoming a good friend of yours

once he fully trusts you and believes you to be his one and only, i think he’d tell you about his other life

or maybe you just accidentally stumble into the batcave

anyway i think he’d either put you in self-defense classes or teach you because it’s gotham and he can’t risk you getting hurt

he’d probably feel like he could never give you the peaceful life you deserve but he could never give up being batman

just understand that he’s an emotionally constipated man but he truly is head over heels for you

With all this considered I want to say that Dancing With Our Hands Tied (from Reputation) and peace (from folklore) are the best songs that would describe being with Bruce.

“People started talking, putting us through our paces I knew there was no one in the world who could take it I had a bad feeling

But we were dancing, dancing with our hands tied.”

Seeing the tabloids, the color drained from your face. You thought you would have more time before the press started trying to figure out who you were. No, you thought you and Bruce were being careful, sneaking around. But clearly not careful enough. There was your picture, on the front cover of one of the most popular magazines in Gotham. You couldn’t ignore the big bold letters already accusing you of using Bruce.

A shaky breath escaped your lips as you set the magazines down on the table. You were so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t heard footsteps approaching you until you felt strong arms wrap around your waist. Your eyes fell shut as you leaned into Bruce’s soft and warm touch. For a second, it was like every thought left your mind at once. It was surprising the effect Bruce had on you.

Bruce’s eyes traveled down to what you had set down. He rolled his eyes once he read what the magazines had already started to say about you. It would be a lie if he had said he was surprised the paparazzi had already found out about you. He knew it would only be a matter of time before they found out, especially with just how famous he was.

However, he was more worried about you. He felt a twinge of guilt shoot through his heart. It was his fault after all you were now in the spotlight. He was used to being in it, especially from such a young age. But sometimes not even he can handle being under the constant watch of the public eye. No one can.

Of course, Bruce was also nervous about you. If you were going to stay or not. This had always been a deal breaker for his past relationships. Well besides the fact of him being a vigilante. But normally they didn’t last that long for him to even think of telling his partner. However, you were different. You were someone who challenged him to think differently, and you constantly believed there was good in people, no matter what. He didn’t want to lose you. He just had a bad feeling. He squeezed a little bit tighter, but not too much to hurt you.

“If you’re worried I’m going to leave, don’t be. I knew exactly what I was signing up for when I agreed to go out with you.” You turned to face him and cupped his cheek. He almost melted into your touch. He looked into your loving eyes. He didn’t have to say anything, but you knew that he was just as much in love with you as you were with him.

Dick Grayson

Dick is a very complex character

this man is also traumatized

his trauma is not talked about enough by the fandom and its sad

I would say that he’s moved past it, but it’s also left its scars (like trauma does)

he’s just so used to trying to make everyone happy he forgets to take care of his own feelings (im not projecting shut up)

but after being friends for a while and he starts dating you, you’d see right through him

him constantly deflecting his emotions with comedy because the man doesn’t like to be in uncomfortable situations and feelings are uncomfortable

he’s a stubborn man so you’d have to be an even more stubborn person to try and make him change his mind in an argument

but even then sometimes there’s nothing that could change his mind

having a heart attack because this man doesn’t tend to think before jumps

however, he is such a sweetheart when it comes to relationships

he’s always putting you before himself

don’t let him push you away because he thinks he’s protecting you

always asking about your day and genuinely being interested in whatever you have to say

man’s gets literally heart eyes whenever you open your mouth

he is so big on PDA!

he’s always holding your hand or has an arm wrapped around your shoulder when you go out into public

being in awe of how flexible he can bend his body

until he pranks you by bending over backwards and running at you

“THAT WAS NOT FUNNY I ALMOST KICKED YOU” “it was funny to me and that’s what matters”

being Dick Grayson and Nightwing makes his life hectic, but he always makes time for you

not being too surprised when you eventually find out he is Nightwing

due to the fact when you’d go out by yourself, Nightwing would always happen to “bump” into you and would make sure you’d get to your destination safely

you knew those quips and that laugh from anywhere

turning anything you two do together into a date

whenever he notices you are not taking care of yourself or are just having a bad day, he does self care days with you

you doing the same for him

he doesn’t have as bad of overprotective issues as Bruce does

but he still has lost so many people in his life so of course he’s gonna be terrified of losing you like that

I just don’t think he’d let it control him

he’s so in love with you it’s not even funny

Okay so I’m so confident in my answer when I say that Paper Rings (from Lover) and The Archer (from Lover) are so Dick Grayson it’s not even funny. He’s just Lover coded, I don’t know what to tell y’all!

“I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want, and

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you’re the one I want”

“Dick!” You laughed and quickly turned your head away to not get hit with the paper wrapper from the straw he had blown towards you. He had missed his target, and the wrapper fell on the recently mopped checked floor. You shot a playful glare at him and stuck your red straw into your shared milkshake. He gave you one of his iconic smiles, putting his straw into the milkshake too.

The two of you were currently sitting in a big red booth in a 24/7 dinner at three in the morning. The smell of greasy food had filled the air, but it was quickly becoming a comfort smell to you. This had recently become a weekly thing between Dick and you. Whenever you both just couldn’t fall asleep, you’d find yourselves at the diner, talking about anything and everything under the sun. What can you say? The city never sleeps and neither do you two.

Your eyes wandered to the city lights outside. For once, Blüdhaven seemed still, as if it were frozen in time. Your mind wandered as you began to think how you ended up here in the first place. You had been friends with Dick since you were kids, always glued at the hip. It was no surprise feelings had started to develop as you grew older and as the days grew on, it had gotten harder to keep from him.

That was until one night, he showed up at your apartment drunk. Dick was never one to hold his liquor well. You had begrudgingly dragged him in and made a bed for him on the couch. It was then he started to spout out how he’s loved you since you were teenagers and how he couldn’t imagine his life without you. He then begged you not to leave and pulled you on the soft couch with him. It was hard to say no, so you didn’t and enjoyed the silence.

The next morning, you and Dick had a heart to heart and opened up about each others feelings to each other. Since that day, you’ve been stuck like glue to each other. When he wanted to leave to Blüdhaven, you were right behind him and moved in with him. It was funny to think that if it hadn’t been for that drunken “accident”, you wouldn’t have been where you are.

Feeling something being slid on your finger, you snapped out of your thoughts and looked down. It was a thin paper ring made from the straw wrapper. You looked up and stared into the ocean blue eyes that stared right back.

“Someday, it will be an actual ring.” Dick smiled and reached for your hand. You smiled and let him hold your hand, taking in just now warm and soft his hand was. It felt like home to you. You softly squeezed it, and took a sip from your milkshake. For now, this small paper ring would be more than enough for you.

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #fanfiction #x reader #taylor swift #taylor swift inspired #elliessodashop

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loregoddess · 2 months ago

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Found this in my drafts while going through it to move stuff into the queue, and honestly this is just an outline for a proper analysis post but I’d need to replay TriStrat a couple of times to finish polishing it, and I dunno when I’m gonna get around to that so, here, have a 2-year old outline that still reads mostly clearly instead.

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

Mirrors (narrative device for characters who are the same but also opposite), Anna and Avlora as Narrative Parallels

early childhood -Anna taken in (explicitly by the person who killed her parents) and “given a place” in House Wolffort as its future steward; very close to father figure -Avlora’s parents’ fate unknown, taken in by Svarog, but still had to fight her way and earn her place as Aesfrost’s general; no apparent attachment to father figure

combat style -Anna specializes in stealth, reconnaissance, spying, etc., rouge-like fighter, WILL fight dirty (evasion heavy) -Avlora is the face of the army, no trickery to her fighting, very up-front and “honest” and “honorable” (can inflict damage to self, deals more damage at lower health)

mentors -Anna’s mentor was Archbald (former Hyzante Saint and general) who betrayed Hyzante and forfeited his sainthood by freeing the Roselle, a long-range archer, finds new “family” in House Wolffort -Avlora’s mentor is Groma (former Aesfrost general), who is wracked with guilt due to the belief that she was responsible for killing innocents (specifically the Roselle in the fort where Archibald had freed them from), leaves Aesfrost of her own volition after becoming disillusioned with its values, a close-range martial artist who (until joining House Wolffort) leads a seemingly solitary life

present -Anna remains steadfastly loyal to House Wolffort, following Serenoa to whatever ends he chooses to lead the house to (although she would have remained by Benedict’s side in the Frederica ending, except that Benedict asked her to leave), and despite being known more or less as Wolffort’s spy, she is basically well-liked and accepted by the people, also shown to be good with children; notably willing to diverge away from Benedict’s judgments and plans -Despite her loyalty as a knight, Avlora looses faith in Gustadolph’s rule and swears her loyalty to Cordelia (Avlora sees herself in Cordelia, and admires Cordelia’s blooming strength and resolve), chooses to sacrifice herself for Cordelia (but survives and joins House Wolffort on the golden route to end the war and return to Cordelia’s service), is despised by the people of Glenbrook but resolves to atone and continue forward (notably a child is who helps adults see that Avlora is willing to commit to atoning; Cordelia is also put in a poor light due to the peoples’ lost faith in the royal family and has to similarly regain their respect and trust through her actions), willing to stand by Cordelia’s side no matter what (despite raising her, Avlora doesn’t seem too attached to Svarog or interesting in following after him, not the way Anna literally inherits Benedict’s role)

#triangle strategy #anna pascal #avlora #hopefully this still reads clearly despite being just an outline for a more well-written analysis #what point was I trying to make and where was I going with this? good question! I have only a faint guess #honestly my weird and vague ''Anna x Avlora'' rarepair that haunts my shipyard probably sprung up when I initially drafted this #anyhow enjoy this rare glimpse into my drafting process if nothing else #oracle of lore

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track-five · 16 days ago

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hi again

this was a very strange year.

so much has changed. some regression, some progression - the lines sometimes blur together a bit.

i hadn't ever planned to take a break, but i found myself stepping back for a while. i was wary of writing a long distance relationship while being in one, knowing that the person would read it. i wouldn't have been able to authentically portray the "reality" of the relationship (that i built in my personal canon), since i worried that any conflict stemming from their ldr would make that person uncomfortable or could be taken the wrong way. i didn't want to change the HL dynamic or cause issues in my real life, so i chose what was most important to me.

i had to step away again after i tried coming back this year for my sake and yours, since trying to depict a loving couple while grappling with the end of my relationship made my writing awkward and insincere. i felt i couldn’t know how to write something realistic if i was questioning how much of my own relationship had been real. i was alone again, but in a way i’d never felt before. i think it showed. i figured if i waited long enough, being alone would stop feeling like the punishment i knew i deserved and become a source of inspiration again. it didn't take as long as i expected, but the way things unfolded only enforced the long-established feeling that i'm not meant to be loved...which didn't exactly resolve the authenticity issue, but we persist!

i was also unable to access my work for seven months. my laptop split clean in half, and i couldn't afford repairs, let alone my rent. i was worried i would never get my files back, but luckily i saved them in icloud. i had to finish my degree with no computer which was difficult, but i did it! i got new jobs and worked overtime for months now, and i was able to get a new computer (and found the license for my writing software, since i can't open my documents without it).

ever since then, i've reread all the fics i posted and my drafts so i can refresh my memory on everything (which took forever!). adding details that validate a fic’s connection to the real-life timeline is so important to me. that’s always been a huge undertaking which requires extensive research and fact-checking before i even start writing most things. it comes down to silly things like how long someone's hair was in that specific month of whatever year, the fifth song on a setlist of a show from ten years ago, the length of flights, matching their individual travel timelines post-1d, seeing if the pacing of conversations across time zones make sense…all the little things that i guarantee have no impact on anyone's enjoyment of the story but continue to drive me insane!

i didn't think to check here, as i really didn't expect anyone would be around. so many of you are in my inbox and i can’t believe you all still cared enough to check in. i’m going to try to answer questions over the next few days! if i don’t respond to yours, just know that i see it and i appreciate you <3

thank you for waiting for me. i hope i haven’t disappointed.

#my fic #long boring post below the cut

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sherlockxreader · 2 years ago

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Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Author: @proherogalahad (formerly realgreglestrade)

Words: 1,336

Warning: None

Author’s note: So it’s been a while, similar to my previous story post, I was going through my old drafts and found at the very end of the page. Figured I might as well upload it if there is still an audience for Sherlock fics ^^ This fic was based on a few prompts that were picked from a reader.

92. My kink is closing the fucking bathroom door because no one wants to see you pee!

95. Graduated top of my class from Hogwarts school of Bitchcraft and Misery

97. I’ll betray all of you in the Hunger Games

After a tough case and lots of drinking, you came to realize that drunk Sherlock was your favorite Sherlock. You’ve never seen the detective drink as much as he had the night after the case of the Dancing Men. He was the type to nurse a drink.

Both John and Sherlock arrived home, Sherlock still in his post-case high and John more so with a long face. Their case seemed to have taken a toll on him. Sherlock, noticing this, decided to show John a prize he recently procured. A very expensive wine that Mycroft kept hidden in his office. The pair opened it and began drinking, one bottle led to two which ultimately continued with them ordering dinner and finishing up whatever alcohol they had found in the kitchen.

You watched as your best friends argued over which Hogwarts house they’d sort Mrs. Hudson in with a big smile on your face. It was previously decided that Sherlock would be in Slytherin for his cunning ways and ambitions and John in Gryffindor for his bravery and nerve.

“Mrs. Hudson could scare the shit out of anybody,” John yelled in protest when Sherlock announced that she would be in Hufflepuff for her gentle nature. “You’ve known her better than I do, especially her past, and yet she’s placed in Hufflepuff? No! She’s in Gryffindor!”

Sherlock opened his mouth but didn’t say anything and raised his right hand with his pointer finger and thumb being pressed together, “but she’s so tiny!”

John raised both his arms and let out a loud sigh before turning to you. “(Y/N),” he slurred. You looked up from your phone as you sent a couple pictures to Greg and Molly. “You know a lot about Harry Potter. What do you think?”

“I don’t just ‘know a lot about Harry Potter’, I graduated top of my class at Hogwarts Bitchcraft and Misery.” Both John and Sherlock looked at you with weird expressions.

You sighed. “Mrs. Hudson is in Slytherin. We took a test a few months ago when you both left us for a case. We got bored, and she got sorted.”

“Impossible.” Sherlock frowned.

“It really isn’t.”

“But she’s so tiny!” You laughed at Sherlock’s interjection.

“(Y/N)! What about you? What house are you in?” Sherlock slurred.

“I’m in (Your/Hogwarts/House).”

The living room was silent for a few seconds until John spoke. “That makes sense.”

~~~~~~

After three cups of tea and a half a bottle of whiskey, the pair of crime solvers continued with their bickering…

“I think I would win the hungerrrrsss game,” Sherlock hiccuped. “I mean, I’m smart.”

“I don’t think so, mate. I have military training.”

“Shut up! I know I would win. I’ll betray all of you in the hungerrss game. Tell him (Y/N).”

“I’d take you both down, so shut up.”

“I’m not answering that, Sherlock.”

“Why not, Y/N? John answered.”

“I’m not John, I don’t want to.”

“John, have her answer.”

“Shut up, John.”

“Answer it.”

“No.”

“Y/N-”

“My kink is closing the fucking bathroom door because no one wants tO SEE YOU FUCKING PEE! Why do you do it so often, I don’t know, but you have to stop, it’s so gross!”

“No need to shout, Y/N.” Sherlock pouted. “It was a simple question. John, tell her to stop shouting.”

The pair finally grew tired.

You tried your best to stifle a giggle as Sherlock’s head lolled everytime he closed his eyes and woke up suddenly with a jolt.

John sat opposite him, telling an old story from being in the army with his eyes dropping with sleep. You took pictures on your phone and sent them to your mutual friends. The time was nearing four in the morning and you knew you had to drag your friends to bed.

John was the easiest. Yes, there were steps to tread up to get to his room, but John was a good sport and helped you help him to bed. He sang under his breath until you settled him onto his bed and covered him with a sheet. He was snoring right as you closed the door to his bedroom.

Sherlock was not as helpful. Being taller than you and John, it was a lot more difficult to carry him to his room. The detective muttered something unintelligent under his breath as you continued to try and drag him to bed.

“Come on, Sherlock! Help me a little!”

Sherlock leaned up slightly from your shoulder and lazily waved his free arm around the air before grabbing the doorknob that was attached to his bedroom door and jiggled it.

“It’s locked,” he whined. You rolled your eyes and groaned as you freed your hand and opened the door. Pushing Sherlock inside, he flopped on the bed and continued to mumble into a pillow. His slurred words were muffled by the pillow he landed on, not that you tried to decipher his words. Sherlock giggled as you started to remove his shoes. A small smile crept up on your lips at how ridiculous the “serious” detective was being.

After throwing the shoes in a corner, you adjusted Sherlock on his bed and threw a soft blanket over him.

“Don’t gooo,” Sherlock mumbled, eyes closed and his hand wrapped firmly around your wrist.

“I want to sleep too, Sherlock,” you groaned.

Sherlock gave your hand a sharp tug and pulled you onto the bed with him. You let out a soft yelp as you landed half on Sherlock and the empty space next to him. You wiggled yourself into a comfortable position, not fighting Sherlock because you were extremely tired to do so.

“Ssssleep.” Your body relaxed under the blanket you covered yourself with and your heavy eyelids fell shut on their own accord. The last sounds you hear before falling asleep were the soft snores that came from Sherlock.

John woke up with a sudden jolt as the rays of the sun peeked through from behind his curtains and blinded his eyes. The pounding of his head was evidence enough to regret the previous night’s drinks. He looked at his night stand and saw a glass of water with a few pills and a note.

Mrs. Hudson was a saint.

Drinking the refreshing water and pills, the ex-army doctor managed to crawl out of bed. He managed to find clean clothes that didn’t smell of the previous night's drinking activities, and went to take a shower with his head pounding with a little less vigor.

It was past noon when John stepped out of the shower feeling clean and 40% more like himself. Images of the previous night flashed through his mind but thinking back made his head hurt. It was best to just leave those memories in the past. John’s stomach rumbled in hunger as he finished drying his hair with a towel. He shuffled into the kitchen and placed a few pieces of bread in the toaster then set the kettle to boil. John sat at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of tea. The sounds of London entered through the open window, the flat was never this quiet when Sherlock was at home. The ex-army doctor relished the peace.

John heard the door to Sherlock’s room open and close and you appear from the hallway with your hair tousled and clothes disheveled.

You froze as you noticed John sitting at the table looking at you with wide eyes and half a piece of toast hanging from his mouth.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

Right at that moment, Sherlock decided to emerge from his bedroom wrapped in only a white sheet. John’s toast fell from his hand as he watched his friend walk towards the kettle, his bare shoulders giving the emphasis of nakedness under this sheet. You looked in horror as a smile crept onto John’s face and Mrs. Hudson walked into the kitchen.

“Sherlock! Shouldn’t you be wearing clothes?!”

“Not now, Hudders.” The detective muttered, sipping his tea with a satisfied smile. He headed back to his room but not before quickly kissing your cheek.

“Thank you.” Sherlock mumbled quietly for only you to hear.

You felt your cheeks flush.

“‘Not what it looks like’ my ass!”

#sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes #john watson #kat writes #sherlock holmes x reader #bbc sherlock imagines

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heyidkyay · 2 years ago

Text

And if it weren't this dark |

(Tip of the tongue but I can't deliver it properly)

Part One

A/N: hey, a short Alex one for you! it's been in my drafts for a while now, and isn't proofread but I figured I'd just post it and see if anyone likes it, first time writing for him so bare with me..

Summary: You and Alex have been together for ages and it's been so incredible, only now things have changed and you're struggling to tell him just how you feel.

Warning: angst- but also a bit of fluff so, lack of communication

Part Two

I’d been dropping hints.

JESUS CHRIST had I been dropping hints.

There wasn’t a day gone by that I hadn’t thought about it finally happening. But as I mentioned, I’d been dropping hints only, they hadn’t been hitting.

So either I was relatively shit at this whole charade or… Alex was just utterly clueless.

I was leaning more towards the latter. But maybe I was simply biased, because over the last coming weeks my hints hadn’t been all that subtle.

I mean, only the other day we’d been on the way to my sister’s house for tea- she’d recently gotten engaged and mum had wanted to celebrate the only way my family really knew how. With good food.

But neither Alex or I had remembered to pick up the wine we’d promised beforehand, and so we’d popped into the local Tesco’s on the drive over to pick up a few bottles. And whilst we’d been perusing- as you do- we’d somehow found ourselves wandering down the baby aisle.

Yes, the baby aisle. Because that was what I’d been waiting on. A baby. Or rather, a fucking good shag that then led to a baby.

Because, let’s be honest, I really wasn’t one to turn down a good time, far from, but these last few weeks there had been something else I’d been rather hoping for.

Everyone (and I mean everyone!!) around us was either settling down, buying homes, building families, or getting engaged. And Alex and I, well we’d been together for years and yet, nothing.

No ring. No big day planned. No talks of the future. Nada.

Nothing.

And I could honestly say that I wasn’t the type that needed that kind of security voiced or announced.

Truly.

When Alex and I had first gotten together, I’d only realised that we were properly seeing each other when some other lad at a house party had tried to pull me. I’d never seen Alex so possessive, and it had been proper cute and a tad bit funny in the moment. He’d ‘staked his claim’- how cliche and chauvinistic, yes I know- but that was what had quickly taken us from Y/n and Alex, to Y/nandAlex. Which had suited me quite fine.

So yeah, him and I, since then had always sort of relied on our actions to simply show how we were feeling.

Like when we’d first moved in together. There’d not been much of a discussion about it, my flat had quickly become the first place Alex would come back to after touring, his stuff had just started taking up space- washing in the dryer, dirty trainers in the hallway- and then he’d started calling it home. ‘Let’s head home, shall we?’ and ‘We’ll be home soon, darling.’

And that was all lovely. I adored having that kind of connection with him.

But there were times when I desperately wished he would open up a little more about what he was thinking. Because although I could read him like an open book most days- his emotions especially- there were far and few times in between when I just felt so lost.

Like recently, I supposed.

I feel like we’ve been on the same page for so long, only now I’m ready to turn anew, start another chapter. Together.

But Alex? I have no fucking clue what he wants.

In all honesty, I think he’d be rather content to just carry on as we have been for the rest of eternity. No talk, no hashing things out. Have Christmas dinner with his parents, spend Boxing Day with mine. New Years in London, back home in time for spring. Same order from the local kebab, Friday nights stay reserved for one another.

And that would be it.

Lost to this routine.

Not that I was expecting a proposal or some grand gesture. I wasn’t much into the idea of any of that! No, just- I wanted more, you know?

I wanted that family I’d always dreamt about, that house we’d quickly make a home. I wanted nappies and nightly feeds, baby-grows which then turned into dungarees. Ten tiny little toes, someone with a cute button nose, a person made up of both him and I.

But I just didn’t know when that would happen, or if it ever would.

So yeah- Tesco’s. Fuck, did I love to ramble! If Alex could only hear me now I supposed.

So, as I was saying, we’d been stood in the baby aisle, Alex scrolling through his phone aimlessly, waiting for my dad to text him back a reply after we’d asked if they’d needed anything else whilst we were out. And me, staring starry eyed at the tiny socks and mittens and cute little newborn tees that were on display.

I’d said to him, almost thoughtlessly, “Imagine us having to buy all this. All these tiny little things.”

He’d just glanced up at me, smiled, hummed. Then replied, “Your dad asked if you’d pick him up some of that heartburn medication he buys. Says his acid reflux is playing up again.”

And hadn’t that just been grand? Mentioning my father’s gastrointestinal issues whilst we’d been stood surrounded by adorable little baby items, with me unsubtly referencing the image of US buying some for OUR child in the (now very obvious and very, very far) future.

Incredibly clued in, my Alex.

That hadn’t even been the worst of it though.

A few weeks back, my friend had mentioned that her and her fiancé were actively trying to conceive and I’d been so over the moon for the pair of them. All excited about the chance of having another baby to spoil rotten.

And Alex, he had been all smiles whilst congratulating them, sat comfortably beside me, but when I’d brought it up again on the drive home, he’d simply shrugged it off as though it was a thing that occurred every other day.

Your mates starting a family. Nothing too out of the ordinary there, at least not to Alex.

It had royally pissed me off in truth.

And I’d been a little off with him ever since, I think he knew it too.

“Love?”

I blinked out of the daze I’d let myself get lost in and looked away from the laptop screen I’d been staring at for the last, however long. I hummed quietly to him in reply, titling my head against the cushions and over towards where he was stood in the doorway.

“Been calling your name for a while now, you alright?” He quirked a brow up at me, a smug little smile limning his lips as he leant against the frame. He didn’t even know how good he looked.

I nodded with a small smile then glanced away, back towards the email I’d just been typing. “‘M fine. Just need to get this done.”

Alex said nothing but I heard the soft shuffle of his socked feet across our wooden floors before the settee dipped beside me. He rested his chin against my shoulder, peering down at the screen.

“Just wanted to know what you fancied for tea.” Alex murmured, breath brushing against the skin of my neck. I withheld a shiver. “Figured we could order from that place round the corner.”

I rolled my lip against the other, pushing my glasses up my nose before I wrote another passage, honing all of my focus on finishing this email so that I could finally just relax for the evening.

“Whatever you want, Al. I’m not all that fussed.”

Alex leant away from me slightly, back pressing against the settee cushions, he stayed that way for a while and I could feel his presence as I continued to type away. It was only a short time later that I grinned triumphantly down at the laptop and clicked send, thankful to have it gone and out of my mind.

“All done, cherry?”

Smiling at the familiar petname, my eyes flickered over towards him. I took in the woollen jumper he wore, as well as his hair which was tousled and unkept, probably from having run his hands through it all day. I was only just able to stop myself from reaching out to tangle my fingers in it, wanting to smooth it over.

“All done.” I murmured faintly and gifted him a tired smile.

Alex was the type to take something and run with it though, so I wasn’t all that surprised when he grinned right back at me and extended a hand out to cradle my left cheek. I leaned into his warmth for a second, allowing his thumb to brush the skin under my eye, probably from where today’s makeup had just begun to smudge.

I inhaled after and slowly pulled away. Not paying much mind to the way Alex slumped slightly and instead opting to busy myself with putting away my laptop and clearing up the mess I’d made of the coffee table.

I did it all quietly, picking up the two mugs of tea I’d made, one empty, the other barely touched from where I’d forgotten about it, whilst Alex watched on. The tele remote was perched on the very edge of the table and so I tossed it over towards him, padding my way into the kitchen.

“Put something on, will you? Think there’s a good film on Channel 5.” I prompted over my shoulder, glancing at him through the tramson window that had been installed shortly after the sink had sprung a leak during last tour and flooded the flat, forcing us to make do whilst the owner had remodelled.

Pressing the power up button, Alex flipped the remote around in his hand a couple of times, he looked deep in thought and so I left him be, choosing to wash up the two mugs as well as the few stray knives and forks which littered the basin.

I hummed quietly to myself, an old song I could hardly recall the lyrics of, whilst I worked, thinking about the many things I had to get done before the weekend started.

It was Alex’s voice which startled me from my musings actually. He was so much closer now than he’d been before when he spoke up again, I'd obviously not heard his approach.

“So, tea?” Alex questioned me with a slight furrow between his brows, he’d propped himself up against the kitchen counter about an arms width away.

“God, Al! What are you- a wraith? Don’t sneak up on me like that!” I scolded, having jumped out of my skin. I took a deep breath. “Could’ve had a heart attack or something over the kitchen sink.”

Alex chuckled lowly at me, clearly amused by my reaction, he shook his head. “Make headlines, you- woman dies whilst doing the washing up! Reckon it’ll lead to a riot- start up a petition that’ll change the way we wash dishes forever.”

I rolled my eyes, flicking a few soap duds at him in retaliation which only made him reach out towards me. I tried to evade him but he was too quick, sweeping and wrapping me up in his arms so that I couldn’t proceed to splash him any further.

“You always been this much of a weirdo?” I huffed, not making much of an effort to escape his hold even as I struggled to blow a strand of hair out of my face.

He hummed, smiling down at me as we begun to sway. “Might’ve been. No getting rid of me now that you’ve finally realised it though.”

I playfully winced in retort, forcing out a loud put-upon sigh. “Should’ve just kept quiet and slipped out once you’d fallen asleep watching the tele.”

Alex narrowed his eyes at me, tugging me in tighter. “As if you would.” He taunted.

I simply smirked in retort and let my damp hands work their way under the soft material of his jumper. I cackled loudly at the way he shivered and jumped away from me like a frightened cat during a thunderstorm.

“Ah, you’re in for it!” Alex declared, his face a right picture.

Quick as I could, I dived to my left so that I could position the kitchen counter between us, bracing myself against it to grin over at him. “Should’ve thought twice about that before telling me what to do, Turner.”

“Minx.” Alex smirked, and then he pounced.

We spent the next however long running about the flat after that.

He’d somehow been able to grab at me in the hallway but I’d thankfully managed to wrangle my way out of his hold, sprinting into our room to use the bed to my advantage. I rolled over it, putting a dent in the freshly made sheets but using the spare moment to take a couple- much needed- deep breaths whilst Alex waltzed slowly inside. I scowled when the door closed behind him. He flashed me a victorious smile.

“Unfair. I’m at a disadvantage.” I pouted, hoping it would soften him slightly. But when that didn’t work I resorted back to a narrow eyed glare. “Open the door, Alex.”

“I don’t think so, Angel-face. You see, I’ve got you cornered.”

I looked for another escape, Alex only growing nearer, but my only options were limited. I could either goad him and then dart towards the door, or dive out the window.

Seeing as though I didn’t much fancy breaking my neck, I opted for the former.

“Come on, Al.” I chuckled breathlessly, perching precariously on the edge of the mattress in hopes of lowering his defences a little. “We’ve had fun, but I’m proper knackered now. Call it quits so we can have a cuddle?”

Alex glanced over at me warily, he knew me far too well but appeared to be on the verge of agreement. He slowly made his way over towards the bed, shoulders hunched, still on his guard.

“Promise?”

I hummed my vague assent, smiling up at him softly.

He paused with squinted eyes, “You’ve gotta verbalise it, love. Don’t count otherwise.”

I tilted my head up at him, feigning confusion. But we both knew I wouldn’t say it unless I really meant it. I kept my word.

That little flaw of mine seemed to trip me up though, and we both realised it at the same time too. So as I manoeuvred my way towards the door- feeling like Kim Possible, might I add- Alex was already in motion, catching me by the hips before I could even surpass the foot of the bed.

“Alex!” I screamed, only growing louder when he threw me over his shoulder and span us around. “Put me down! Now!”

“I fucking knew it!” Alex laughed merrily, bouncing me about the place. I swatted at his back unhappily, starting to feel my stomach in my throat. “Knew you’d try something.”

“Yeah, yeah… proper clever, you. Can you put me fucking down now? Think I’m gonna yosh.”

I could only roll my eyes when he dropped me on my arse, although thankfully it was on the mattress. Huffing, I fought to tame the mess he’d probably made of my hair.

“Twat.”

Alex merely chuckled, leaning in close to tuck a strand of stray hair behind my ear. I smiled when he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Hm, so you say.” I replied, peering up at him from where he towered over me, his hand falling to frame my jaw.

He leant in again, smiling as his lips met mine. “Had to show you who’s boss, didn’t I? Couldn’t let you get away with that.”

I gave an airy titter, pushing him away so that I could pull myself to my feet. “I could’ve had you on your arse the second you strolled in here, was just playing fair.”

He caught my wrist before I could retreat back into the living room, encasing my hand in his. I frowned slightly, looking back at him, mainly confused.

“What’s up?” I questioned him. His brown eyes flickered back and forth between my own, he looked conflicted all of a sudden, it was something you didn’t see on Alex too often which caused my frown to deepen, “Alex?” I prodded.

A small sigh escaped him and his gaze fell towards our joined hands, I let my thumb brush against the back of his own, wanting to reassure him in some way.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” I asked again, stepping closer. My other hand braced his forearm.

Alex’s eyes found mine once more and I didn’t think I had ever seen him this torn up. It threw me a bit, his demeanour had changed so quickly, it was like he’d done a total one-eighty on me.

“Think I should be asking you that question.”

I frowned at Alex’s vague reply.

“What do you mean? I’m fine, Alex. Annoyed that you won, but I’ll get you the next time.” I assured him, chuckling softly at the end. But it didn’t seem to do much.

Alex just shook his head, stepping away towards the window. He dragged a hand across his face, rubbing at his chin whilst he gazed down at the street below.

“Al…” I tried. “Alex. Will you look at me?”

His eyes fell shut, he squeezed them as though he was trying to sort through a messy array of thoughts, of emotions.

Then he sighed. “I just don’t get you sometimes. One second you’re off with me, hardly even have the time to spare a glance my way. Then the next, we’re as happy as Larry, dancing about the kitchen, play-fighting, laughing.”

I had to look away, down towards my feet as a surge of guilt rippled through me. It wasn’t Alex’s fault that he had no idea about all the thoughts that were raging about inside my head. It wasn’t his fault that I was too scared to just come out with it. To tell him what I so does wanted. To just talk to him.

None of the blame was on him and yet, I’d still placed it all there.

“I’m sorry.” I said, slumping down onto the edge of the mattress with a sigh. My eyes trailed over to find him staring back, his face gave nothing away. “I’ve been an utter twat. And I’ve been so fucking unfair to you. I- I don’t know, Al. I’ve just been struggling with a lot lately. But it really is nothing that you’ve done.”

Alex released a long breath, thumbing the bridge of his nose before he walked towards the bed, taking a seat beside me. We sat there in silence for a few moments, I could feel my heart hammering in my throat. Because it really was now or never. I either told him or… I got over myself. And nothing would change.

“You say you’ve been struggling.”

I angled my head over towards him upon hearing his words, Alex continued to look onwards though, his hands clasped between his knees.

He looked a lot older in that moment, and it reminded me of just how long we’d been together. I could recall a similar moment we’d shared well over a decade ago now, just before the band’s very first London gig.

Alex had spent weeks torturing himself over it, figuring that they’d be wasting their time playing to an empty room.

It had been the night before they’d been set to leave when he’d come round mine. It’d been late. Really late, as in only mere hours before the train he’d been expected on was set to depart.

It had just been the two of us. But that hadn’t ever been an unusual occurrence. We’d sat in silence together for a longwhile on my messy bedsheets- he’d always been the type to struggle with words. Strange for a songwriter, yeah, but unless they were accompanied by a couple chords then Alex could honestly spend a millennia searching for the right ones to use if you’d let him.

He had spoken up eventually though. Told me what was bugging him. And I’d been the one to try and right every bad thought he’d had. Dull his racing mind.

I’d always very much doubted his fears, about no one wanting to listen to their music outside of Sheffield. Outside of the safety net we’d grown up in. But Alex was as stubborn as I was, and so we’d spent a lot of late nights arguing about it. We’d always make up for it though come morning.

And Alex had gone, obviously. I’d been one of the few to see the band off that morning, waving goodbye even as the train blurred and disappeared out of sight. He’d phoned me later that night after the gig, I’d heard his smile, he’d gone on this long rant about how wrong he’d been. Because the pillock had only gone and gotten carried around the venue on a sea of hands, hadn’t he?

This moment didn’t feel quite the same though. Because these fears I’d been facing, well they didn’t threaten anything outside of the four walls we’d carved for ourselves. If I told him how I felt, there was a very big chance that he might not feel the same, want the same. There was a very real chance he could just walk away.

“If it’s been so bad. Why didn’t you just come to me?” Alex asked and his eyes found mine then, that warm brown of his appeared so oddly defeated. So much so, I struggled to find a reply.

“Just come out with it. Please. ‘Cause all this up and down, and back and forth. I don’t know if I can take much more. It’s been driving me round the bend. I hate reaching out towards you and feeling you pull further away. Kills me. Hate feeling like there’s something standing between us. ‘Cause it’s never been that way. Not with me and you.”

My throat grew tight with tears, but I wouldn’t cry, not now. Not when it was me who had caused all this.

“I know.” I had to take a deep breath to keep them at bay. To hide the strain in my voice. I pivoted so that my knee folded beneath me and I could really see his face. He followed, taking ahold of my hands. “I know, and I am sorry. Truly. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier. That I let it get this bad. That I let you get so torn up. I didn’t even realise.”

Alex pulled me into an embrace, hand holding the back of my neck as I buried my face in his. Because that was the man Alex was, he put me above everything else. Including himself.

“It’s fine, sweetheart.” He hushed, thumb brushing over the top of my spine. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

I did know that. But still.

“I don’t want to lose you, Alex.”

That probably hadn’t been the best thing to say. Alex all but flung himself back, alarm swimming in his eyes as he levelled me with a long look.

“Lose me? What’s that meant to mean? Why would you lose me?”

A tear fell then, followed by a couple more. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, willing them away, hating the thought of seeing him so distraught.

“Y/n. Love. Please, you’re actually beginning to scare me now. Tell me what’s happened.”

I tried to look away. I didn’t want to do this, not here not now, but his fingers grasped my chin, tugging me back to face him.

A sob spilled from my lips and I crumpled slightly, his hands jumped up to my shoulders, struggling to hold me up.

“What could have you this worked up?” He stressed, shaking me slightly. “Just tell me, because all the fucking things I’ve got racing through my head. I- Put me out of my misery at least. Please.”

It took all the strength I had to peer up at him, eyes red and raw. “I want more, Alex. I want more than just this.”

After I’d said it, I wanted to take all my words back. The hurt that flashed across his face felt like a sharp slap to mine. He started to move, to stand. And I realised he was about to leave.

“Al. Alex.” I called, tried. Clutching at his arm. “Alex, please! Just listen, will you?”

He wasn’t having it. Shaking his head at me as he stormed his way out of the bedroom.

“I can’t believe you’ve just said that.”

It was like a punch to the gut, hearing the upset that lined his voice. His back was to me as I chased after him, I’d ever seen him like this.

“I didn’t mean it! Not like that! Not in the way it sounded.”

“Like fuck you didn’t mean it, Y/n!” Alex shouted, and I caught a glimpse of his face when he went to tug his jacket off the hanger by the front door.

I could count the times I’d seen Alex cry on one hand. But right then, there were tears in his eyes.

“Alex.” I pleaded with him.

A deathly silence fell between us, I watched his shoulders sag before he turned back around towards me. I wanted nothing more than to hold him again. Take away all his pain, the pain I’d caused.

“If you leave right now, I’ll never forgive you.” I choked out, “Please don’t leave. Please.”

He stared at me. Long and hard.

“Tell me the truth then.”

His voice was nothing but a strained whisper. He looked so tired, arms slumped helplessly by his sides.

I swallowed thickly. Hands fisted against my chest.

Alex scoffed at me then and ran a hand over his face, rubbing at his stinging eyes. He shook his head and went for the latch.

I felt my eyes fall close. It was now or never, I supposed. He was leaving either way.

“I want a baby, Alex.”

#Alex turner #alex turner x you #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #arctic monkeys #Arctic monkeys band #ao3 #writer #fic #short work #angst #fluff #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fluff #relationship #longterm relationship #song inspired #babies #fanfic

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