#lucy dacus x crew!reader

[gingerjolover]

Unspoken - Lucy Dacus x fem!reader

Synopsis: Lucy and Crew!Reader don't have to say it but they're in looooove

G's notes: Thank you guys for all the support :') I have had the shittiest month and feel so grateful for all the sweet messages and encouragement I've received. Things are finally returning to normal, so this is literally like 1/5 stories I have to post! (lmfao)

Julien fic is up next!!!

WC: somewhere around 1.2k...again

Warnings: RPF, smoking ciggies, kissing, julien calling you punk, swearing ig

feedback is appreciated and welcomed but pls be kind!

boygenius, “the tour,” 25 shows come and gone. It’s dark outside, the Red Rocks amphitheater slowly emptying, fans and crew alike buzzing from a fantastic performance to end the US leg of the tour. It's hard to tell if the elevation in Colorado is dizzying or if the post-show high is slowly infiltrating the band. 

You and Julien are sitting backstage, hoodie-clad and shivering but still leaning against the back of a truck, smoking cigarettes out of sight from the exiting crowd. “You sure you don't wanna help them?” you ask Julien teasingly, pointing to the crew loading equipment into the vans. “Oh fuck off!” Julien laughs; it's obvious she’s staying as far away as clean up as possible, her willingness to help often making it harder for the crew.

Lucy approaches the two of you, changing out of her stage uniform into a pair of flowy pants and a hoodie. Her eyes glimmer, her cheeks flushed, and her hair slightly messed up from pulling her hoodie over her head. She smirks as she walks closer to you, the tension rising as you stare at each other, smiling.  

There’s something unspoken, not quite a relationship but more than a friendship, bubbling beneath the surface. Julien smirks, noticing the tension, coughing softly before taking another drag herself. 

Lucy leans beside you and takes your cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling a puff of smoke,

"How about that show?" Lucy says. "It felt like it went by in a blink."

You can’t help but let out a contented sigh, nodding in agreement. Having spent hours on the road with the band, working and chatting, it's impressive how fast shows fly by. 

“You did great, Luce, like always,” you smile, eyes twinkling, tucking some of Lucy’s hair behind her ear. 

Lucy smiles back at you brightly, her lipstick slightly messed up from kissing Phoebe and Julien on stage. She leans her head against your shoulder, enjoying the closeness. There's something so familiar and comforting about you; Lucy knows she can trust you with anything, and the natural connection that seems beyond words is evident to everyone around them.

You nonchalantly kiss Lucy’s forehead, avoiding Julien’s teasing eyes and wide smirk. Glaring at Julien, you turn your head away to take a drag from the cigarette.

Lucy's face flushes at the touch of your lips. What’s seemingly a quick, innocent kiss on the forehead makes her heart race.

“Jules… you want the rest of this?” you ask, holding up your cigarette, blowing the smoke out of the side of your mouth, away from Lucy.

"Nah, I'm good," Julien responds, smirking. She looks between you and Lucy, giving Lucy a subtle, knowing smile.

You hold out the cig for Lucy, waiting for her to take it between her lips.

She gently takes it, nodding playfully in thanks. She inhales and lets out a slow stream of smoke. Without thinking, her gaze drifts downwards, staring at your lips.

“Pretty,” you mumble softly, pulling the cigarette from her mouth. 

Lucy blinks and looks back up at you, blushing and embarrassed at having been caught staring at your lips. She keeps a minor distance between you both, leaning against the truck. You take another drag on the cigarette and smile, maintaining eye contact with Lucy.

"You look pretty good yourself," Lucy quips playfully, surprising the both of you.

“You feel okay? Still flushed from the show?” you ask, noticing Lucy’s pink cheeks, thumbing the meat of Lucy’s warm cheek. 

Lucy flushes even more, trying to stay composed and ignore her growing attraction, but her feelings are becoming more apparent.

"Yeah," she replies, attempting to act nonchalant. "Just...still processing everything, I guess." Lucy takes another drag on the cigarette and watches as the smoke evaporates in the cold night air.

“I’m gonna go grab Pheebs,” Julien says, awkwardly exiting. She’s a few yards away when she turns around, wiggling her eyebrows and winking at you. 

Widening your eyes at Julien, you turn back to Lucy, smiling at her softly. “So, you ready for Europe?” you tease Lucy, staring at her eyes and lips. 

Lucy nods and huffs out a breath, slightly taken aback by your teasing expression. She doesn't know how to respond, not often getting stuck like this; her eyes are drawn to your lips again.

"For sure," Lucy replies with a forceful laugh, attempting to sound chill.

"I've heard that European crowds are even more enthusiastic than back home, so hopefully, you’re prepared,” you tease in a sing-song voice, leaning closer. 

Lucy crushes the cigarette on the ground with a slight grin. "So... what about you? Are you ready for the next leg of the tour?" she asks, biting her bottom lip.

“I’ll only be seeing y’all in a few cities, unfortunately,” you pout, “but I’ll be back on the fall leg,” you reassure, stepping closer again.  

Lucy's cheeks flush ever so slightly at your remark, her smile dipping momentarily when she realizes there will be some separation soon, having gotten used to your presence working on the tour.

"Well, I’ll miss you while you're away," Lucy says softly. “I… I mean, we all will, you know, because you are such a big part of the crew…” Lucy trails off, swallowing the lump in her throat as she stares into your eyes. You grab her hand, rubbing it with your thumb. 

A brief silence passes, and Lucy breaks it again, her voice softer.

"I..." she stops, finding it difficult to say what she wants.

“You don’t have to say anything Luce,” you murmur, interlocking your fingers, eyes staring into Lucy’s, dropping to her lips. “I feel it too,” you say softly, smiling widely. 

Lucy's eyes go wide. She hadn't anticipated that response and hesitated momentarily before leaning closer toward you. She brushes her lips gently against yours, a moment of pure intimacy. Holding the kiss for a few moments as if time had stopped moving.

Lucy slowly pulls away and looks at you, her heart racing. She can feel the heat from the kiss on her lips, and her entire body is awash with emotion. She looks back into your deep eyes and tries to control herself.

Your smile widens, leaning back into Lucy, connecting your lips again. Your hand cradles her jaw, tongue softly sliding against Lucy’s. 

Lucy's hand moves up to your waist, pulling you closer.  You share a passionate kiss, mouths pressed together with a growing intensity. Lucy's body trembles, and her heart pounds rapidly in her chest. She can feel your shaky breaths between kisses, and the sound of her pulsing heart fills her ears.

You kiss for several more seconds before finally pulling apart. A deep silence hangs in the air before you lean forward again to brush your lips against Lucy's cheek.

“Hey punk, you got a light?” Julien calls to you somewhere hidden backstage, likely standing with other crew members. 

Leaning back to not yell in Lucy’s ear, “Coming,” you shout, rolling your eyes and making Lucy giggle. 

Some of the band is approaching Lucy, so you turn to her gently. “I’ll be back, yeah?” before leaning to kiss the corner of her mouth. 

Lucy watches you walk away, her eyes trailing down your body. She’s distracted as she greets the band, leaning up against the truck with her, with a small smile despite so much left unspoken.

[ellieslaces]

KISSING LESSONS.

featuring: hazel callahan x fem!cheerleader!reader

synopsis: Hazel’s worst decision was to join her friend’s fight club, until she met you. or, really got to know you, she knew you, you just didn’t know her. she never thought a cheerleader, much less one of the prettiest girls in the school, would ever pay attention to her. until you did.

content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; internalized homophobia; light smut; kissing (wlw); so much loser lesbianism; some homophobic slang (faggot, munch)

notes: mentions of violence (duh, it’s lesbian fight club); mentions of reader being bisexual (more toward women tho); homophobic slang (faggot, munch, etc) ; there is no real smut in this as i do not write explicit content containing minors.

word count: 3.13k

chloe talks: watched bottoms and then hyperfixated on Hazel for two weeks before I decided to write this. God, I need her so bad. Chloe has a type doesn’t she? (soft mascs make me hhnngg). hazels so fucking cute I need her to kiss me ok bye. <3 (also, I hate the way this turned out, I’m so sorry it’s terrible)

now playing: kissing lessons ; lucy dacus

Fight Club — a popular 1990’s film, that’s all those two words had ever meant to you. You’d never even seen the film, you just knew it was fucking gay, despite it not actually being about the hot topic of homosexuality amongst young men (or women, in your case). But, I digress.

It had been your friends, Isabel and Brittany, who managed to get your ass to attend your school’s resident Fight Club. A women’s Fight Club. How fucking gay. Oh well, it would teach you how to defend yourself properly. Which, in this day and age — or any day and age of we’re honest — is horribly necessary.

It shouldn’t be, but knowing how to beat the shit out of a grown man is something you should know how to do. Self defense isn’t a topic to be taken lightly, and it seemed PJ and Josie knew this.

PJ and Josie — or faggot #1 and faggot #2 as the school knew more endearingly — where the school’s resident ‘ugly and untalented gays’, as Jeff and his little crew liked to say. Really, you suspected they were all just pissed because the girls knew their way around a pussy better than any of them did. They wouldn’t know the clit if it slapped them in the face.

It had been about two weeks into the girls’ club that Isabel and Britany attended for the first time. They showed up to cheer practice the following day with busted lips and bruised faces. At first, you hadn’t known what happened. Maybe Jeff’s dramatics had finally gotten the better of him. But no, they had willingly gotten beaten up for the sake of learning how to better throw a punch.

Finally, after hours upon hours of begging and pleading, Britany and Isabel got you to attend a meeting. You had walked in, nerves wrecking your body as you trailed unsurely behind the two girls you considered your best friends. You trusted them, they wouldn’t let something bad happen.

You had planned to spend your first meeting simply observing, but PJ tried so hard to convince you to join in. She almost even pushed you into the fucking ring. When you finally conceded, you were face to face with Hazel Callahan.

You knew of her, but you didn’t know her. You’d passed her a few times in the hall, you had a science class with her. Jeff said she was another one of those ‘loud mouth munches’ — to which you nearly punched him square in the nose had he not been Isabel’s boyfriend and a complete moron.

Hazel seemed nice, she’d smiled in your direction when you walked into the gym. It was a nice gesture, no matter the awkward air it held. You felt sort of bad for putting her in the situation she was in, even though it was PJ’s fault that she now had to fight you.

You stood awkwardly, fists raised in a defensive position, eyes on Hazel as she stood in front of you. She smiled again, still awkward as it had been when you walked in. You were set on not getting the shit beat out of you.

As soon as PJ’s whistle sounded, you barely gave Hazel a chance to move. She’d shifted on her feet, sending a spark of fear through you, causing you to send a punch straight to her face. You’d gasped, watching her face scrunch up as her own hands flew up to cup her nose.

“Oh my God, I’m so fucking sorry.” You cried, stepping forward, ignoring the claps and cheers falling obnoxiously from PJ’s lips.

Hazel let out a choked laugh, brows raised as she held her nose. “No uh, nice hit. Fuck, that was a good one.” She blinked rapidly, momentarily lowering her hands.

You let out a small squeak as you saw that her nose was indeed bleeding. “Shit, your nose.” You stepped forward again, trying to find something to stop the bleeding. But of course, there wasn’t anything you had on you.

“Alright, Hazel’s fine. Let’s move on.” PJ droned, giving her whistle another sharp blow — she really abused her whistle privileges, you thought as you ushered Hazel toward the bleachers.

Hazel gave a thumbs up — her hand covered in blood that dripped from her nose — as she walked toward the bleachers. No one seemed to notice other than you as you walked with her. You felt so bad, so terrible because now this girl was bleeding because of you.

“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized again, sitting in front of her on the bleachers, looking frantically around for something to give her to stop the bleeding.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Hazel shook her head, trying to convince you she was fine. Even though you both knew she wasn’t.

“Uh fuck, there isn’t anything — don’t do that.” You’d cut yourself off quick, voice deadpanned.

Hazel paused, her head half leaning backward as she looked over in your direction. Her ringed fingers pinched the bridge of her nose — it seemed she’d had the idea to lean her head back to stop the bleeding.

“Lean your head forward, not backward. If you go backwards, the blood could go into your lungs. Go forward and let it drip out.” You instructed, pulling her hand down gently by her wrist, moving to take off your cardigan so she could hold it below her face to catch the blood as it dripped.

“How do you know that?” Hazel questioned, brows pulled in a frown as she leaned her face forward so the blood could freely drip from her nose onto the bundle of fabric in her hands.

“I had to get a certificate to be able to babysit.” You shrugged, moving the strands of hair from her face without thinking about it. When you’d realized what you’d done, you froze, dropping your hand in embarrassment, muttering a sad ‘sorry’ again.

Hazel shook her head, not responding verbally to your millionth apology. Your cheeks warmed, suddenly so embarrassed for an entirely different reason. Not just for punching Hazel square in the nose, but you’d managed to embarrass yourself by noticing just how pretty she was.

Hazel sat on the bottom row of the bleachers in the gym, watching the rest of the group fight each other in turns, different girls winning. Some had busted lips, others a myriad of bruises spattered across their faces.

You took the time to notice just how pretty Hazel was — a sharp jawline that would make Jeff jealous, brunette hair that mussed in just the right way and looked so goddamn soft, her nose that was long and straight save for the small bump in the bridge that made your throat constrict. God, she really was a sight. How hadn’t you noticed sooner?

Maybe it was the fact that Hazel wasn’t in your social circle. You were a cheerleader, friends with Isabel and Britany, the focus of stares. Hazel was a loser — in the kindest and most endearing way — someone who wasn’t popular. Someone who had hardly any friends. And despite the fact that today was maybe the third time in your entire life you’d ever spoken to her, you wanted to be one of her friends.

A quick, sharp quip of PJ’s whistle brought you back to the present, her loud voice announcing the day’s session was over. You blinked, looking away from Hazel. Who somehow didn’t seem to notice you’d just spent the past five or so minutes just studying her face.

She turned to you, eyes apologetic as she held out your crumpled cardigan in her hands. “It’s really bloody, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” you shook your head, holding out your hand. It was only after the words came out of your mouth that realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, it’s just, you don’t have to give it back. I don’t like it that much anyways. And it’ll probably stain. That sounds bad, I’m sorry.”

Hazel smiled a little at your words that seemed to stumble out of your mouth. You regretted every single one of them. You moved to take the cardigan anyway, acting as if you hadn’t told her to just keep it. But she pulled it back.

“I’ll wash it.” She said simply, standing. There were specks and smears of dried blood on and below her nose. You felt another pang of guilt then, seeing that your punch would definitely cause a bruise across her nose.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, standing as well. Isabel and Britany stood a few feet away, clearly waiting for you to come over. You didn’t want to though, for some reason.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you at the next meeting right?” Hazel asked, not relenting and continuing to hold the cardigan in her hands as she started to back away.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” You shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. You didn’t really want to come back. Not since you’d punched Hazel and made her bleed on your first meeting. But, maybe this would be a good incentive to come back. To see her.

“Cool,” Hazel grinned, nodding in your direction before she walked toward where PJ and Josie stood. You remained sentient for a moment, hands folded in front of your lap as you watched Hazel.

“Jesus, you hit hard.” Isabel’s voice rang in your ears as she and Britany approached, the latter’s eyes wide as she looked at your hand.

“Might want to wash your hands,” the girl motioned to your dominant hand — the knuckles were spotted in blood from where you’d punched Hazel and blood had immediately started to pour from her nose.

Your eyes latched onto the specks of blood on your knuckles, brows creased as you stared. Bright, rusty red adorned the skin of your knuckles, bits of Hazel Callahan’s DNA there. It was strange, but it made you smile.

The attendance of the fight club had steadily grown — girls coming to the gym after school to brush up on their combat skills. All in preparation for the upcoming football game against Huntington. The fear ever since one girl had gotten attacked by one of the boys and word had gotten around about it.

So, attendance had spiked, the ‘female solidarity’ — as PJ liked to call it — had risen in the school, even the girls were kinder and nicer to one another. And your mind was muddled with constant pictures and thoughts of Hazel Callahan.

It was confusing — you’d never felt such a strong connection to someone you hardly knew. Hazel was as much a mystery to you as the rest of the ‘ugly, untalented gays’. Meaning she was a huge fucking mystery. Sure, you were vaguely aware that her parents had divorced, and that the girl mostly kept in the background in school. But other than that, Hazel was purely mysterious to you. And you found yourself wanting to know more.

To remedy thhs, you continued to attend fight club, naturally. Yes, you shared a class or two with the girl, but nowhere else did you have the chance to actually interact with her. To converse with her, hear her voice, see her smile. God, what a loser you were.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you’d come to realize how disgustingly and embarrassingly obvious your infatuation with Hazel was. And what made it worse — it was PJ who brought it to your attention.

“Yo!” PJ’s obnoxious voice rang through the gym as you stood in the circle with the rest of the girls, watching Silvia and Brittany spar, your name on the girl’s lips as she spoke. “Quick eye-fucking Hazel and pay attention! Huntington is like, two weeks away.”

Your cheeks flamed a bright red as you sunk into yourself, shoulders curling in. God, you wanted a chance at PJ in that ring to strangle the fuck out of her for that. Your eyes quickly cut over to where Hazel stood — her own cheeks dusted with light pink as she avoided your gaze.

Great, now she probably wouldn’t talk to you at all. Fuck PJ and her obnoxious, loud mouth. Your embarrassment was not short lived as the fight club went on. You couldn’t look in Hazel’s direction at all as you waited out the meeting until its end so you could retreat with your tail between your legs and never show your face in this gym again.

It was as you shouldered your backpack, heart still racing, stomach still uneasy with embarrassment that you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned, eyes going wide as you were face to face with Hazel. Your eyes trailed down to a bundle of fabric in her hands.

“Sorry it took so long, but uh, I got the blood out.” She held out what turned out to be your cardigan. The cardigan that you’d leant her two weeks ago when you’d punched her too hard.

“Um, you didn’t have to do that.” You said, offering a sheepish smile as she held out the cardigan. You gingerly took it, eyes locked on Hazel’s face. As you grabbed it, you swore you could feel a spark when your fingers brushed against hers. A fucking spark — cliche but true.

It was silent between you two for a moment before Hazel shook her head, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. “Sorry about PJ. Things kind of come out of her mouth without her brain processing first.”

Yikes, Hazel meant the ‘eye-fucking’ comment. You offered a small, horribly obvious chuckle. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”

There was another long stretch of silence between you and Hazel, your lips pulled to the side as you held the folded — she’d fucking folded it, Jesus she was adorable — cardigan in your hands. It was strange, but not too uncomfortable. Like that stupid thing from Pulp Fiction, the right person is someone that silence isn’t awkward with.

“I wasn’t eye-fucking you.” You blurted. Great, you made it awkward again. A small groan fell from your lips, head dropping as you closed your eyes with a frown. You shook your head. “Sorry, I dunno what’s wrong with me today.”

“PJ’s just jealous.” Hazel offered with a small laugh. How could one solidarity laugh sound so beautiful?

“Of what?” You asked gingerly, looking up to meet her eyes. For some reason, you were weary of her answer.

“That you aren’t giving her attention. Besides, I don’t think she’d know what to do with your attention anyway, you’re so pretty.” She said it not as an insult to PJ — or at least it didn’t sound like it — but more as an obvious fact. And you were stunned because Hazel had just called you pretty.

You were at a loss. A true loss. How the hell were you supposed to respond to that? So, like an idiot, you just stared at her blankly, eyes confused and wide.

Her own eyes went wide, brows furrowed as a worried look crossed her features. “Shit, was that too much? Too much. Fuck.” Her voice lowered as she cursed, brows knit together.

���No! Not too much, I just… I just didn’t think you thought I was pretty too.” You shrugged, quick to correct her. Quick to reassure that you were flattered and not weirded out.

“I mean yeah, of course I do.” Hazel nodded, her voice soft, words intentional like her statement was an obvious fact.

A smile spread across your face, cheeks warm again. You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt so much about Hazel. You’d never had a crush on a girl before. It was new and strange, but you definitely thought this was a crush.

“Thanks.” You whispered, eyes darting down to the cardigan in your hands for a moment before going back to looking up at Hazel. “For the compliment, and bringing back my cardigan. You didn’t have to wash it.”

“It’s fine, I wanted to. It’s a nice cardigan.” Hazel shrugged. It seemed she was at a loss for what to say around you too.

The gym was near empty by now — Josie and PJ chattering away in the far corner, and Isabel and Brittany waiting for you (but not paying attention to anyone but themselves) by the gym doors a few feet away.

So, due to the empty state of the gym and the disgustingly thick tension between you and Hazel, you stepped forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to her cheek.

This took the girl by surprise. Her eyes went wide as your lips pressed to her soft cheek. You leaned back, her brows creased as she watched you.

“Thanks,” you said again, with a shrug. Letting her know that was your way of thanking her. Small, but meaningful to you.

It was a long moment that you stood there, Hazel staring at you with wide eyes. For a couple of long seconds, you thought you’d fucked up. Misread the situation, mistook the tension for something else. But, you were proven wrong as she leaned forward, closing the distance between you by pressing her mouth to yours.

“You’re welcome.” She murmured as she leaned back, your eyes wide now from processing that Hazel had just kissed. That you’d just had your first girl-kiss. Fucking scary, but nice. You liked it. Liked her.

“I’ve never done that.” You whispered, blinking rapidly to ground yourself. “With, with a girl, I mean.” You corrected yourself almost instantly.

You’d kissed a guy or two before. Sadly, your first ever kiss was Tim at the ninth grade freshman dance. He was a bad kisser and you hated it. But, you liked how Hazel kissed. Despite it being a quick peck, it was full of intention and it was gentle too.

Hazel shrugged, a small half smile forming on her lips. “Maybe I can give you lessons.”

You grinned, laughing a little as you nodded, backing away toward the gym doors, needing to escape before you said anything else stupid. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll send you my address.”

“Okay,” Hazel nodded, grinning widely to herself as you mentioned her coming over.

You almost skipped as you walked out of the gym, trailing behind Isabel and Brittany as the girls chittered away, the prospect that Hazel would be giving you fucking kissing lessons. You held the bundle of fabric close to your chest as you walked to your car. And it was then you noticed it smelled like Hazel. The detergent, obviously. But, there was something else that was just Hazel. And you never wanted it to go away. Maybe, you could wear it while she gave you kissing lessons that night.

2023 ©️ellieslaces please do not repost, rewrite, translate, or submit my work to AI or any other platform. please support your creators by reblogging, liking, and following!

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[outofmydepthatapublicbeach]

hiii can u write julien x reader where julien has a crush on reader? like maybe reader is maybe a singer at the grammys and catches juliens eye

pls pls and thank u

jj chats: hiii!! i love this idea so so much and i am so happy i got to write it!!! i decided to do some headcannons and a bit of a blurb! but its mostly tailored to this specific scenario so if anyone wants a more general julien with a crush headcannons i can totally write that! just lmk!! also tysm for the request dear ilysm <333

warnings: RPF, no use of y/n, julien is very awkward!!!

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

So lets say that Julien is aware of who you are, she knows your music, but never knew your face. She was crazy excited about you performing at the grammys.

She’s at the table when your name gets announced along with the 2 tracks you are playing and she immediately recognizes them.

She gets all giddy because she’s never seen you before and is excited for your set.

You play a mash up of two ballads where your vocals are incredible, your standing center stage. (I’m kind of picturing it to look like Olivia Rodgrigo’s set at the grammys)

Whatever outfit you’re wearing is a beautiful mix of emerald green and gold. Your dress/suit/whatever you are wearing has a very flowy vibe to it.

Anyway Julien sees you as the spotlight shines on you and her heart stops. You were more beautiful than she had ever thought. 

Then you open your mouth to sing and it's like a kaleidoscope of butterflies was released in her stomach.

Phoebe notices her awestruck state and whispers to Lucy.

Yk they made a plan to make sure you met that night.

When your performance ends you smile towards the crowd of brilliant musicians, lyricists and producers. The room erupts in cheers and applause, your head gets a little light as you take everything in. Everything that you’ve worked for has come to this, and you’ve finally made it, singing in a room full of all your biggest idols.

When the stage darkens, a crew member meets you and takes you back to a dressing room, helping you get back into your original grammy outfit. As you walk back to your seat you spot a woman with platinum blond hair in a white suit standing near your table, seemingly waiting for someone.

As you approach her you get a better look at who she was. Exclaiming “Phoebe!! I’m so glad to see you!” You pull her into a hug.

Pulling away, Phoebe replies “Hey dude! It’s been so long!”

“Way too long! Oh congrats on you and the boys wins tonight! I’m so happy for y’all!” You smile, then noticing the other two that make up Boygenius approach, Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker. Lucy introduces herself and Julien, Julien stands squashed between Lucy and Phoebe. She smiles at you shyly, a light pink flushes her face. 

“Your performance was out of this world, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing like that! Isn’t that right Julien?” Phoebe asks, nudging her bandmate with her elbow.

Julien sputters a little bit before replying “Your voice is so pretty.” Once the words leave her mouth her eyes widen a bit, as if she can’t believe she just said that. Phoebe and Lucy share a look before Phoebe moves to squeeze your upper arm.

“Me and Luce are gonna go mingle, have fun kids,” She turns away from you but you can almost swear you saw her wink at Julien before walking away. 

“I don’t think I’ve never formally introduced myself, I’m-”

“I know you,” Julien cuts you off, horror fills her face at her ill choice of words, “I mean I don’t know-know you, but I know of you! I like you! Fuck I mean I like your music, its really good! And your voice is amazing. It's so pretty! I’m rambling aren’t I?” The tattooed woman sighs, her face flushing again, this time a much brighter red.

“Yes, yes you are. But it's okay Julien, it's cute.” You giggle, reaching towards your purse to pull out your phone, pulling up messages. “Can I have your number, I’d love to talk to you longer but I gotta go visit someone before we have to be back in out seats. Maybe we could get coffee sometime and talk?” You hand the phone to Julien, gently placing it in her open palms.

“Really?” she waits for you to nod before putting her number in, hands shaking as she types.  “Thank you! And best of luck to you tonight! Hopefully I’ll see you around.” Julien says. You smile and grab Julien’s hand, squeezing it lightly. Once you let go she's off towards her table again. 

I could totally see Julien being so nervous around you that she types in her number wrong. So wehn you get home and call her and some random 39 year old guy from Alabama replies you are taken a little off guard.

But it's all fixed when you text Phoebe explaining the situation. 

Phoebe def made fun of Julien for that all the time now.

[phoebesspikytitties]

AAAAHHHHH WE LOVE THIS SO MUCH THIS IS SO ADORABLE !!!! <3333 - 🌸

Unspoken - Lucy Dacus x fem!reader

Synopsis: Lucy and Crew!Reader don't have to say it but they're in looooove

G's notes: Thank you guys for all the support :') I have had the shittiest month and feel so grateful for all the sweet messages and encouragement I've received. Things are finally returning to normal, so this is literally like 1/5 stories I have to post! (lmfao)

Julien fic is up next!!!

WC: somewhere around 1.2k...again

Warnings: RPF, smoking ciggies, kissing, julien calling you punk, swearing ig

feedback is appreciated and welcomed but pls be kind!

boygenius, “the tour,” 25 shows come and gone. It’s dark outside, the Red Rocks amphitheater slowly emptying, fans and crew alike buzzing from a fantastic performance to end the US leg of the tour. It's hard to tell if the elevation in Colorado is dizzying or if the post-show high is slowly infiltrating the band. 

You and Julien are sitting backstage, hoodie-clad and shivering but still leaning against the back of a truck, smoking cigarettes out of sight from the exiting crowd. “You sure you don't wanna help them?” you ask Julien teasingly, pointing to the crew loading equipment into the vans. “Oh fuck off!” Julien laughs; it's obvious she’s staying as far away as clean up as possible, her willingness to help often making it harder for the crew.

Lucy approaches the two of you, changing out of her stage uniform into a pair of flowy pants and a hoodie. Her eyes glimmer, her cheeks flushed, and her hair slightly messed up from pulling her hoodie over her head. She smirks as she walks closer to you, the tension rising as you stare at each other, smiling.  

There’s something unspoken, not quite a relationship but more than a friendship, bubbling beneath the surface. Julien smirks, noticing the tension, coughing softly before taking another drag herself. 

Lucy leans beside you and takes your cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling a puff of smoke,

"How about that show?" Lucy says. "It felt like it went by in a blink."

You can’t help but let out a contented sigh, nodding in agreement. Having spent hours on the road with the band, working and chatting, it's impressive how fast shows fly by. 

“You did great, Luce, like always,” you smile, eyes twinkling, tucking some of Lucy’s hair behind her ear. 

Lucy smiles back at you brightly, her lipstick slightly messed up from kissing Phoebe and Julien on stage. She leans her head against your shoulder, enjoying the closeness. There's something so familiar and comforting about you; Lucy knows she can trust you with anything, and the natural connection that seems beyond words is evident to everyone around them.

You nonchalantly kiss Lucy’s forehead, avoiding Julien’s teasing eyes and wide smirk. Glaring at Julien, you turn your head away to take a drag from the cigarette.

Lucy's face flushes at the touch of your lips. What’s seemingly a quick, innocent kiss on the forehead makes her heart race.

“Jules… you want the rest of this?” you ask, holding up your cigarette, blowing the smoke out of the side of your mouth, away from Lucy.

"Nah, I'm good," Julien responds, smirking. She looks between you and Lucy, giving Lucy a subtle, knowing smile.

You hold out the cig for Lucy, waiting for her to take it between her lips.

She gently takes it, nodding playfully in thanks. She inhales and lets out a slow stream of smoke. Without thinking, her gaze drifts downwards, staring at your lips.

“Pretty,” you mumble softly, pulling the cigarette from her mouth. 

Lucy blinks and looks back up at you, blushing and embarrassed at having been caught staring at your lips. She keeps a minor distance between you both, leaning against the truck. You take another drag on the cigarette and smile, maintaining eye contact with Lucy.

"You look pretty good yourself," Lucy quips playfully, surprising the both of you.

“You feel okay? Still flushed from the show?” you ask, noticing Lucy’s pink cheeks, thumbing the meat of Lucy’s warm cheek. 

Lucy flushes even more, trying to stay composed and ignore her growing attraction, but her feelings are becoming more apparent.

"Yeah," she replies, attempting to act nonchalant. "Just...still processing everything, I guess." Lucy takes another drag on the cigarette and watches as the smoke evaporates in the cold night air.

“I’m gonna go grab Pheebs,” Julien says, awkwardly exiting. She’s a few yards away when she turns around, wiggling her eyebrows and winking at you. 

Widening your eyes at Julien, you turn back to Lucy, smiling at her softly. “So, you ready for Europe?” you tease Lucy, staring at her eyes and lips. 

Lucy nods and huffs out a breath, slightly taken aback by your teasing expression. She doesn't know how to respond, not often getting stuck like this; her eyes are drawn to your lips again.

"For sure," Lucy replies with a forceful laugh, attempting to sound chill.

"I've heard that European crowds are even more enthusiastic than back home, so hopefully, you’re prepared,” you tease in a sing-song voice, leaning closer. 

Lucy crushes the cigarette on the ground with a slight grin. "So... what about you? Are you ready for the next leg of the tour?" she asks, biting her bottom lip.

“I’ll only be seeing y’all in a few cities, unfortunately,” you pout, “but I’ll be back on the fall leg,” you reassure, stepping closer again.  

Lucy's cheeks flush ever so slightly at your remark, her smile dipping momentarily when she realizes there will be some separation soon, having gotten used to your presence working on the tour.

"Well, I’ll miss you while you're away," Lucy says softly. “I… I mean, we all will, you know, because you are such a big part of the crew…” Lucy trails off, swallowing the lump in her throat as she stares into your eyes. You grab her hand, rubbing it with your thumb. 

A brief silence passes, and Lucy breaks it again, her voice softer.

"I..." she stops, finding it difficult to say what she wants.

“You don’t have to say anything Luce,” you murmur, interlocking your fingers, eyes staring into Lucy’s, dropping to her lips. “I feel it too,” you say softly, smiling widely. 

Lucy's eyes go wide. She hadn't anticipated that response and hesitated momentarily before leaning closer toward you. She brushes her lips gently against yours, a moment of pure intimacy. Holding the kiss for a few moments as if time had stopped moving.

Lucy slowly pulls away and looks at you, her heart racing. She can feel the heat from the kiss on her lips, and her entire body is awash with emotion. She looks back into your deep eyes and tries to control herself.

Your smile widens, leaning back into Lucy, connecting your lips again. Your hand cradles her jaw, tongue softly sliding against Lucy’s. 

Lucy's hand moves up to your waist, pulling you closer.  You share a passionate kiss, mouths pressed together with a growing intensity. Lucy's body trembles, and her heart pounds rapidly in her chest. She can feel your shaky breaths between kisses, and the sound of her pulsing heart fills her ears.

You kiss for several more seconds before finally pulling apart. A deep silence hangs in the air before you lean forward again to brush your lips against Lucy's cheek.

“Hey punk, you got a light?” Julien calls to you somewhere hidden backstage, likely standing with other crew members. 

Leaning back to not yell in Lucy’s ear, “Coming,” you shout, rolling your eyes and making Lucy giggle. 

Some of the band is approaching Lucy, so you turn to her gently. “I’ll be back, yeah?” before leaning to kiss the corner of her mouth. 

Lucy watches you walk away, her eyes trailing down your body. She’s distracted as she greets the band, leaning up against the truck with her, with a small smile despite so much left unspoken.