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t-lostinworlds · 1 year ago

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Competitively Stupid | Steve Harrington

》 PAIRING: steve harrington x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: rivals-ish (since childhood) to lovers, some angst; fluff

》 SUMMARY: It was stupid, jumping off a cliff just to prove that you were better than Steve fucking Harrington. But you were competitive. You were not losing to him. But you know what was stupider? For it to take a near-death situation for you both to confess what you truly feel for each other.

》 WARNINGS: canon divergent (everyone is alive & well & happy thanks), pet names (sweetheart, baby), shitty parents (on both sides), competitiveness on all accounts, r is basically a counterpart of steve during high school (cheerleading captain, queen of hawkins high, swim team captain, etc.), peer pressure-ish, some stupid decisions & stupider actions, very irresponsible cliff jumping (which doesn't end well), drowning, CPR, injuries, an emotional moment™, love confessions, and a happy, sappy ending.

》 WORD COUNT: 5.3k+

A/N: hi! okay, well, it's been a while since i posted a steve fic so i'm kinda nervous ngl. also, not me making it a habit to include swimmer!steve in all my fics from here on out. this was meant to be short & sweet to dust off the cobwebs but lol. super random. i saw a video of someone cliff-jumping & boom, the idea was born. also, not me using the first aid training i learned in college.

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ STEVE H. MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

This was stupid.

Absolutely idiotic.

You genuinely have no idea why you were even doing this in the first place.

"There's no way you can do it."

Right.

That's why.

The taunting voice of Steve fucking Harrington was the reason why you were standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down at a thirty-foot drop into the dark ocean.

This was supposed to be a relaxing trip with your new found family.

"You know you don't have to listen to him, right?" Robin sighed, so completely over the fact that her two best friends who never got along no matter what she tried, somehow came to an agreement to not listen to her right now.

Not that you could blame her.

You and Steve had been rivals ever since you were kids.

It was what you had always known.

What with narcissistic parents who used their children as pawns to one up each other, you had been conditioned to see him as an enemy from the second you step foot into their home.

Your family was invited into the Harrington residence for dinner as a way of welcoming you to the neighborhood. You recently just moved in, so you didn't know anyone else yet. When you heard that the next-door neighbor had a son who was your age, you had been really excited to gain a new friend.

All that changed when your dad sat you down an hour before, prepping you about how the Harringtons were a respected family in the town, and that you needed to show them you weren't any less than them, if not show them you were better. He drilled it in your brain to be on your best behavior, to be the best and the perfect daughter.

It only got worse when you finally sat down at that dinner table.

The comparisons were endless.

"See, my daughter here is a wonderful gymnast, quite amazing for someone her age."

"How wonderful. Steven here has swimming lessons every weekend. His coach said he might end up in the Olympic team once he's of age."

"Splendid. How about his academics? I'm sure he can take inspiration from my daughter's exemplary grades."

"He's the top of his class. Maybe if they study together, your daughter would be able to catch up in time."

It was harsh, pitting two seven-year-olds against each other—impressionable kids who only wanted to make their mom and dad proud.

But neither your parents nor his truly gave a shit. All they cared about was becoming the best family in the street, if not the whole town.

The sad thing was, those dinners became a regular thing, held alternately between your house and his.

It always looked like a preparation for battle whenever your mom would pull out the finest china in her collection along with the cookbook she only ever used for special occasions.

It was in the guise of cordiality when it was, in fact, an excuse to show off, to make a competition out of everything, a moment to compare who did what best. Those dinners were like monthly scoreboards, tallying up the respective families' recent achievements—and that included yours and Steve's.

Nobody was surprised that the competitiveness stuck with you both.

And it only got worse during high school.

Whether that was something as mundane as winning the popularity contest when running different circles—even going as far as getting crowned the King and Queen of Hawkins High—down to academics and extracurriculars.

Captain of the basketball team. Captain of the cheerleading squad. Prom Queen. Prom King. MVP of the season. Brightest student of the year. Beer pong Queen. Kegstand King. Best summer camp counselor. Lifeguard of the month and it went on and on and on and on.

When he got co-captain for the men's swim team, you rubbed it in his face that you were the captain of the women's team. When you got second place at the science fair, he made sure to rub his first place medal right in your face. When you became president of the student council, you ordered him around to do extra work whenever the basketball team was required to help with community service.

It was a constant back and forth.

There was always a competition between you and Steve Harrington.

And sure, since you graduated, it became subdued. But it was still very much there. Vying on who was the coolest babysitter in your band of ragtags, even fighting to have the title of Robin Buckley's ultimate best friend.

This thing between you and Steve was deeply rooted. So there really wasn't much Robin could do apart from getting in between your frequent squabbles before you started actually killing each other.

In Robin's words, something drastic had to happen for you both to finally wake up and see that this rivalry between you both wasn't what it seemed to be on the surface.

You had no idea what she was even implying.

Now, on a little getaway on the nearest beach you could drive to, the competition started with a race on who could get there first. It wasn't even fair seeing that you weren't the one driving.

The group had split into two, some were in Eddie's van—along with everyone's belongings since he had ample space in the back—while the others were in Steve's Beemer. Since you and Steve couldn't be in the same room together without an argument ensuing, it was a unanimous decision to have you two separated. Nobody wanted to deal with that for hours on the road.

Not that you could blame them, either.

And sure, it was the kids who suggested the race, but with Steve's smug smirk and that arrogant wink he threw once you got into Eddie's passenger seat, you knew it was game on between you too.

Yet despite the metal head being a fast—albeit slightly reckless—driver, he somehow took his sweet goddamn time getting to your destination.

Only when your group arrived at the beach last, did he say something about Steve threatening him to be extra careful with driving because there's important cargo in his van—whatever the hell that meant.

You lost to Steve on that one, but you would argue it was rigged from the start.

The next was a supposed friendly bout on who could build the biggest sandcastle that didn't topple over after a few minutes.

It was boys versus girls with you and him being team leaders. The girls won, obviously and El never used her powers. It was fair and square since the other team mostly argued over everything they could think of and had no teamwork at all. You made sure to point that out to Steve as you watched their sandcastle crumble into ruins.

Another one was beach volleyball. Same leaders as before, but you get to pick the members of your teams this time. Steve made it his mission to pick the tallest of the bunch. Still, it wasn't the advantage he thought it was because it ended up being one point too close.

Your team would've won if Steve wasn't such a dramatic asshole.

It was truly an accident. When you spiked that ball, you were not aiming for his face. He simply thought it was a good idea to catch the ball with it. Besides, he was distracted, flirting with some random girl in a bikini who was passing by, right in the middle of the game.

How was it your fault that he wasn't paying attention?

He made sure to oversell his injury after that, curled up on the sand as the girl fussed over him. But you saw that smirk on his face. You would've hit him again—definitely not by accident this time—if you weren't busy arguing with Robin about the point deduction. She said it was only fair since you hit the ball when she hadn't blown her imaginary whistle yet.

You decided to let it go when Steve commented on you being a whiny sore loser.

Unfortunately, the competition was ending with who could make jumping off a cliff and into the ocean look the coolest—adults only, despite the groans of protest from the mischievous bunch.

Eddie offered to stay behind and watch the rascals. When teased, he simply said he didn't want to test Death today.

His comment didn't help your nerves.

Robin said she was only coming purely as a voice of reason. She'd been saying nonstop how it was a horribly stupid idea, that there really was no need to be doing this in the first place.

But Steve wasn't backing down, so you weren't going to either.

So once again, it was only you and him.

As it always had been.

He volunteered to go first, throwing in a comment about rushing back up the cliff's edge before you could take your turn because he wanted a front-row seat for when you'd chicken out.

It only made you want to do it more.

His dive was smooth, almost flawless, you admit. He even showed off with a little flip near the end. It didn't take long for him to swim back to the shore, either. His years of training as a swimmer were obviously paying off.

But you trained just as much if not more than he had.

The only difference was, adrenaline didn't fuel you as much as it did Steve. So instead of getting all powered up looking down at a cliff's edge like he was, you were terrified.

But who wouldn’t get scared looking down at harsh waves crashing against sharp and jagged rocks? There was no margin for error here because one wrong slip and you'd be dead.

Still, if Steve could do it, you could do it better.

You weren't about to lose to his stupid ass.

"I'm not listening to him," you argued back, taking in a shaky breath as you took a step.

"He's doing reverse psychology!" she squeaked. "So you doing it is still listening to him!"

"I'm fine, Robs, I can do it," you mumbled, a slight questioning lilt at the end of your sentence.

"Look, sweetheart, it's okay to admit defeat," Steve said, cocky voice with an even cockier smile as he crossed his toned arms against his bare chest. His hair was still damp, quick to climb back up so he could get his front-row seat as he promised.

But you weren't chickening out.

Never.

"I mean, it wouldn't be the first time you lost to me so, it shouldn't sting as much."

You ignored him.

Instead, you took another step, the tips of your toes now hanging over the edge.

You can do this. Wipe that smug smirk off his face. You got this.

"Listen, you don't have to do—"

"Shut it, Harrington," you growled.

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes, counting from three, two, one…

You jumped.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

This was stupid.

Absolutely idiotic.

He shouldn't have pressured you like that.

The jump wasn't deadly, per se, but it also wasn't exactly deemed the safest, especially if you weren't an expert in any sort of way.

And he didn't want to say it out loud because if he did, he knew it would only push you to do it more just to prove him wrong.

But Steve could see how scared you were.

He was already dropping the act, voice laced with concern as he started telling you that he wasn't worth all of this, that he was stupid and that you were always going to be better than him.

But, obviously, you didn't listen.

You simply jumped.

You and your stupidly competitive ass.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, rushing to the edge of the cliff, tensely watching your falling figure disappear into the water with a splash.

"You two are complete idiots."

"Shut up," Steve gritted, never looking away from the water. Yet any annoyance was quickly overpowered by sheer worry as he scanned the deep blue for anything.

There was no sign of you.

"Like seriously! It's like I'm the only one with a brain cell here!"

"Come on, come on, come on," Steve mumbled, completely ignoring Robin when you still hadn't emerged to the surface. "Come on, Y/N, don't scare me like this."

"Uh, Steve?" Robin asked after a moment, carefully looking over the cliff before shooting him a worried glance. "You look anxious and you being anxious is making me nervous."

"She hasn't come up," he grumbled, glancing at his watch.

It was nearing a minute.

"Maybe you didn't see her?"

"I haven't taken my eyes off the water, Buckley," he gritted, too harsh and uncalled for since Robin didn't do anything wrong.

But he was panicking.

A minute and thirty seconds.

"Come on, sweetheart, you can do it. You're an amazing swimmer," he whispered encouragingly, hoping some sort of magic would let you hear him underwater all while saying it aloud for his own sanity.

Two minutes.

You could never hold your breath any longer than that.

Steve knew because he always won that competition.

And that was in a calm pool.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he cursed, gearing up to dive after you. "I don't think she's coming up!"

"Okay! Okay," Robin rushed, panicking. "Maybe she's already on the shore. We should go down now and see—"

Steve didn't listen.

He jumped right after you.

The biting cold was awakening.

Still, it was the absolute fear of losing you that was keeping him alert.

He ignored the sting of the salty ocean water in his eyes as he frantically searched for you, his heart beating hard and fast, struggling for oxygen all while fearing for your safety.

Steve didn't know which came first, relief or dread when finally found you, aimlessly floating and unconscious under the deep blue.

He swam to you as fast he could, securely hooking his arm under your shoulder and dragging you up to the surface.

Steve always knew that adrenaline can give you a random boost of strength when needed. He simply didn't expect that to be proven true when he was carrying your unresponsive body in his arms as he brought you to the shore.

He gently placed you on your back on the sand, cupping your face as he checked for any injuries.

You were so cold.

"Hey, hey, wake up," he begged, grabbing your shoulders to try and shake you awake.

Nothing.

"You didn't have to make the jump, you idiot. Why do you always want to prove me wrong," he scolded with no ounce of anger, only worry. He started tapping your cheek frantically. "Come on, wake up!"

Still no response.

"Dammit, Y/N, why'd you have to be so fucking stubborn," he scolded, his voice shaking in fear, his chest tightening as he pressed two fingers against your pulse point.

His own heart stopped when he couldn't feel yours.

And you weren't breathing.

Steve tried to keep himself calm. If he panicked now, he wouldn't be able to give you the aid that you direly need.

"Come on, Harrington. You know what to do. You trained for this," he mumbled to himself, getting into the proper position to give you CPR.

He gently cupped your forehead with his left hand, his other two fingers under your chin as he tilted your head up.

"You're going to be okay," he whispered, pinching your nose before slotting his lips against yours.

Breathing into your mouth, one, two, he watched your chest rise as it filled up with air, only for it to settle back down without coming back up again. He quickly kneeled straighter, locking his fingers together and placing the heel of his left hand in the middle of your chest, pushing down with enough pressure to try and get your heart to start again.

"One, two, three, four, come on, sweetheart, breathe for me," he mumbled, easily finding the right rhythm, his first aid training as a lifeguard coming back to him like it was second nature.

Still, he never wanted to use this skill in a real-life situation, much less use it on you.

It was the longest thirty counts in his life.

Check for a pulse. Check for breathing.

Still nothing.

"Goddammit, Y/N, come on!" he growled, blinking back the tears as he pressed his mouth against yours again.

Two rescue breaths.

Thirty chest compressions.

Steve repeated the cycle over and over. His eyes were stinging with unshed tears, his knees were burning as the rough sand dug deeper into his skin, and his arms were starting to get sore, tiredness slowly covering his aching muscles.

But he'd rather die first than give up on you now.

"Steve—"

"Call for help, Robin!" he ordered, not taking his eyes off you for even a second. When he didn't hear any movement, he yelled, "Don't just stand there! Go!"

He was going to apologize for being an asshole later. For now, he needed you to fucking breathe.

"Come on, come on, please," he begged, leaning back down to give you two more rescue breaths. "Breathe for me, baby, please."

Thirty chest compressions.

"Trying to prove me wrong when I've always been wrong, you idiot."

Five, six, seven—

"Sweetheart, come on," he choked back a sob. "Who's going to call me out when I'm being stupid, huh? You know Robin can't do it alone."

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen—

"And you're really going to leave me alone to watch our kids?"

Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two—

"Y/N, baby, please, I can't live without you," he whimpered.

Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thir—

Steve felt his breath leave his lungs when you finally gasped for air.

He quickly turned you to your side, rubbing your back as you choked out all the ocean water that got into your system.

"There you go, you're okay," he whispered, whether to reassure you or himself, he didn't even know anymore. All he was focused on was making sure you were going to be okay.

"S-Stevie?" you coughed out the nickname that was only ever used by you.

It was the equivalent to his nickname for you—sweetheart.

Names that started out to annoy each other but the more often it was used as time passed, it only managed to grow into an endearment that held something warm underneath it. You both were quick to realize that the nicknames you had for each other weren't out of spite anymore.

Neither of you simply addressed it.

"Steady, sweetheart, I'm right here," he reassured, hurriedly getting into your line of sight to stop you from trying to turn around to face him. He gently cupped your cheek, offering you a soft smile when your gaze found him. "I'm not going anywhere."

You nodded as best as you could, your eyes clinging onto his brown ones only for them to screw shut when a shiver ran through your whole body.

"C-Cold," you stammered.

"I know, I know, come here," he said softly, guiding you to sit up before quickly settling behind you. He gently pulled you closer between his legs, his chest pressed against your back as he blanketed his body over yours, rubbing your arms to keep you as warm as possible.

You turned to face him slightly, burying your face into his neck only for you to wince at the slight movement. He quickly tried to steady you again, checking over you twice to look for any visible injury. But he couldn't find any.

"Tell me what hurts," he asked, pressing his lips against your cold forehead as he fully wrapped his arms around you.

"A-Ankle," you whimpered in pain, your grip on his waist tightening and God he hated that sound so much.

You must've rolled it when you jumped, and having landed on it when you reached the water, it definitely made it worse.

"It's okay, you're okay," he murmured, littering kisses against the side of your head to try and keep your mind off it. "Robin already called for help, they should be on their way, alright?"

You gave him a small nod, inching even closer to him, seeking as much warmth from him as possible. Your cold breath was tickling his skin but he didn’t care. Hell, you could be breathing fucking ice and he still wouldn’t give a shit.

As long as you were breathing.

"I need you to stay awake for me, okay?"

"I-I'll try," you whispered.

"First to fall asleep is the biggest loser," he mumbled, squeezing you slightly when he felt your eyes flutter close. "And you wouldn't want me to win this, babe, because I'll be a little shit about it."

"Not f-fair," you choked out a laugh.

"It's plenty fair," Steve chuckled tearfully, ignoring the sudden wetness on his cheeks. He hugged you tighter instead. "So stay awake or you'll lose to me. Again."

"Right there! They're right over there!"

Steve had never been so grateful to hear Robin's voice.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"So are you finally going to tell her?"

"Tell her what?" Steve questioned back, unable to take his eyes off of you, soundly sleeping in a hospital bed with your foot now wrapped in a cast.

The doctor had already checked everything and thankfully, there weren't any further injuries apart from your twisted ankle.

Now, all you needed was to rest and recover.

"That you've been in love with her this whole time."

Steve sighed, squeezing your hand before turning to look at his best friend.

"I'm not in love with her, Robs."

"Right," she scoffed, raising a knowing brow. "Because jumping off a cliff with zero hesitation so you could save her is totally normal behavior for someone you claim you hate."

"I never said I hated her," he argued, and it was true. He couldn't think of a single moment where he hated you.

"Yeah, well, you two definitely don't act like you like each other."

"Does she annoy and frustrate the shit out of me? Yes. But I never hated her," he admitted.

Steve didn't know what it was exactly, maybe it was his tiredness muddling his brain, maybe it was from everything that happened in the last couple of hours finally catching up to him, or maybe it was the overwhelming need to confess everything into the open before it was too late—and it almost had been. Either way, he found himself suddenly spewing out all the things that he always just kept to himself.

"She's also been the most constant person in my life, you know? Hell, we basically grew up together. I can't just not care about her," he continued, memories flooding his system before he could even stop it. "She's been so ingrained in my life, her and the cute dresses she wore at those stupid dinners our parents always dragged us to. Her and her stupid competitions whenever our babysitters would bring us to the park together. Her and that stupid dance she always did whenever she won at anything even if it was my expense—she always does this cute little wiggle whenever she won, and that never left her even as we got older," Steve chuckled at the thought.

"And fuck, don't even get me started with how similar our parents are. She's the only one who will always get me when it comes to that," he continued. "And yeah, we compete a lot, but there was no hatred between us. Maybe at the start but all that went away when we learned that whatever our parents were feeding us was bullshit—that they were bullshit.

"And fine, did I sometimes get so annoyed whenever she got a new boyfriend? Yeah. But only because she always had this bad habit of dating fucking assholes. I don't know where she got those dickheads from but every time I see a glimpse of her crying by her window at night I swear to fucking God I would've killed every single one of those assholes if she asked," he gritted, slumping down in his seat with a sigh.

"She deserves to be treated right, you know? She's already experiencing so much shit at home, she doesn't need any more of that anywhere else. Sure, she irritates me to no end but that doesn't mean she's not a sweet girl who always cried whenever some random pet commercial came on the TV during the holidays. Does her competitiveness drive me up the wall? Absolutely. But that doesn't mean I don't feel so fucking proud of her whenever she wins another medal or achieves another milestone. And yeah, I wonder about how she's doing, if she's taking care of herself, if she's getting enough sleep between her work and classes. But that's only because I worry, you know?

"And maybe I do think about her a lot but that doesn't mean I'm in love with…"

Steve blinked.

Well fuck.

"Wow," Robin marveled. "You're stupider than I thought."

"He hit his head as a kid, cut him some slack."

Steve paled at the sound of your voice, swiftly turning red at the thought that you probably heard all the things he said.

He turned to face you, groaning in annoyance when he saw the smug smile on your lips. "You've been awake this whole time?"

"I'll leave you two love birds alone," Robin sang, quickly slipping out of the hospital room and closing the door behind her.

"How much of that did you hear?" Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Enough to say you're stupid," you hummed.

He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat with crossed arms. "I'm not the one who jumped off the cliff and almost died just to prove a fucking point."

"Yeah, well, I guess we're both stupid then," you snorted.

He shrugged. "I guess we are."

"Jesus, you don't have to act so tense. I mean, you've already given me a mouth-to-mouth, we've practically made out already," you scoffed playfully. "I honestly thought I'd die first before swapping spit with you yet here we are."

It was your attempt at alleviating the tension, to throw in a funny quip. But with everything still so fresh in his mind, Steve simply couldn't take it well.

"Don't fucking joke about that will you?" he snapped, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face.

The silence that followed only made the tension worse.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Steve immediately felt bad.

"No, no, no. You didn't do anything wrong, don't apologize," he sighed, meeting your eyes with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. It's just—"

He stopped himself, chewing on his bottom as he looked everywhere but at you when he felt the tears well up again.

"Will you come here?"

Steve took a calming breath and did as you asked, moving his chair closer but didn't attempt anything else than that.

"Stevie," you called when he still wouldn't look at you.

Harshly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he lifted his head. You smiled at him sweetly, wiggling your fingers to get him to come even closer.

"You scared me back there," he croaked, taking your hand with a squeeze.

"I didn't mean to," you softly said, remorseful and apologetic even though you didn't have to be.

"I know," he murmured, pressing your warm palm against his cheek as he shot you a glare. "Just don't do that again."

"Promise," you giggled, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

Steve leaned closer into your touch. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks to you," you hummed, brows furrowing in thought. "When Marcus got that black eye, you said it was because he was playing dirty on one of your games." You tilted your head knowingly. "That wasn't true, wasn't it?"

Steve shrugged. "He hurt you."

"It was a small bruise on the arm, Steve," you reasoned.

"He shouldn't be giving you a fucking bruise in the first place," he growled, the memory bringing back the same anger he felt when he first saw that bruise. The soft tapping of your finger against his cheek calmed him down. "Sorry."

"Did you lose on purpose to get him expelled?"

"What? No!" he scoffed, offended, rolling his eyes when you giggled. "I tried so fucking hard to win that fight, you know, for you."

"You've always been protective of me," you hummed, taking his hand and interlacing your fingers together.

"Don't think I didn't know it was you who dyed that poor girl's hair green that one year in middle school summer camp," he retaliated.

It was a sharp and piercing scream that woke up the whole camp that morning. Everyone rushed out of bed to see what was going on only to find a girl who once was blonde was now sporting bright green hair in the middle of the crowd, crying her eyes out.

Steve would've thought it was only some silly prank if he didn't know who the girl was. But he did. Because the day before he tried to ask her to be his girlfriend, only for her to turn him down in the most embarrassing and humiliating way possible.

It wasn't difficult for him to find out who the culprit was since he immediately noticed how you kept hiding your hands in your pockets for the next few days after the incident.

The counselors quickly found out that the little menace—whoever she was—decided to use permanent dye on the poor girl's hair instead of something washable.

Your green palms colored you oh so guilty.

"She called you pathetic and gross in front of everyone!" you argued, pouting. "You looked like you were about to cry and I hated it."

Steve's heart warmed at that, a smile on his face despite rolling his eyes. "I wasn't about to cry."

"Yeah well," you shrugged, eyes trained on your intertwined fingers, your thumb playing with his. "I'm the only one who's supposed to be mean to you."

"Hmm," he agreed, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. "I guess we've always been there for each other, huh?"

"I guess so," you giggled, cupping his cheek and tugging him closer.

He stood up from his seat, following your lead until he was pressing his forehead against yours.

"Thank you for saving my life, Steve," you whispered, eyes turning glossy as so many emotions covered your irises, the weight of what almost happened catching up with you.

"You don't have to thank me for that," he said sincerely, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "I'd do it over and over again in a heartbeat."

You nodded, sniffling, "Still, thank you."

Steve wasn't able to argue some more when you all but kissed him.

The first time Steve felt your mouth on his was a horrible experience considering he was trying to keep you alive.

Now, everything was the complete opposite.

A kiss that was careful but sweet, a hint of nervousness and excitement all the same, completely unhurried yet burning with passion as his lips molded against yours.

But still, it felt like that first gasp of air—a finally.

"I'm in love with you, too, by the way," you murmured as you pulled away, your warm breath tickling his lips.

"Thanks for clarifying," he chuckled, eyes laced with adoration, unable to stop his smile from growing wider, warmer. "I couldn't figure that out from the kiss."

"I mean, you are kinda stupid," you teased.

"We're on that same boat, sweetheart," he chuckled. "I'm sure Robin would remind us about that every single day now."

"Unfortunately," you groaned playfully. "God, she gets annoying when she's right."

"Tell me about it," he hummed, brushing his lips against yours, moving away when you chased it.

You whined.

Steve didn't hesitate to dive back in.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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phulge · 6 months ago

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i haven't really been engaging in discourse because i've been sick but i do have a few things to say now that some dust has settled and im not sleeping 16 hours a day.

the phandom is not a radical space. i dont think it ever will be. thats not saying we cant fight for fair treatment and community care within it, but as long as it is orbiting around two privileged white men it will not be a radical space. the only thing radical about this space and the only real tool we have in our toolkit is how we treat each other.

its disgraceful seeing that there are phannies out there throwing out racial slurs in inboxes. its disgraceful seeing us fracture over what is honestly kindergarten shit.

like rudy said, we need to remember that dan and phil are just some white guys from england. and honestly their biggest crime probably is not knowing many if any poc. theyre privileged people who unfortunately as time goes on and their wealth increases and they stabilize, they will share less and less in common with their fans. theyre going to become more unreachable than they currently are no matter how down-to-earth they remain.

so forget dan and phil. sure, theyve done shitty things in the past and will continue to do so. but insofar as we are fans of them, no matter how much they tell us that they listen to us and care for us, we will never have their ear to change in the ways that we want them to. and honestly? years after the fact apologies done out of fear of a hit to their reputation is not an effective means of repairing anything. it is a bandaid over a deeper problem we need to admit we do not have the means or the leverage to fix (at least while maintaining a space recognizable to us). not to say we can and should not hold dan and phil accountable, but we need to be realistic about what is really important to us. is it celebrities doing and saying the right things or is it us taking it upon ourselves to be better people?

so how are we going to hold people accountable for the things they do in the moment? how are we gonna call people in? how are we going to turn to the people on our dash and at our live shows and treat them? how are we going to log off and show up in our communities?

there is a conversation to be had here about fan culture and how it can/cannot coexist with the idolization of white figures, but that's a different post.

the phandom is not a radical space, but we can be radical people within it. rich white men will always disappoint you, so how can you show up for the people actually accessible to you? and really in the end if it comes down to it, do you have the capability to walk away?

#in an ideal world celebrity does not exist

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jinxed-lemon · 10 months ago

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Part 2 to my original post of Mean Siblings Unbreakable Bond because it’s funny writing them:

Whenever they play an outdoor game like Hide and Seek or Tag, it’s a battle to the death to achieve victory. Sonic usually wins the most bc he’s the fastest, so the one ace in his sleeve that Tails learned to pull is the waterworks. Sonic find him during hide and seek? Tears. Sonic is close to tagging him? Tails will fall down and pretend to get hurt and start sobbing. Sonic falls for it every time.

Doing laundry? They make it last for hours on end bc they’ll literally take each others stuff out of the wash mid cycle to out their own in. It pisses the other off so much to the point where they’re constantly stopping the wash to switch out the clothes. Oh, Sonic is washing his old blue hoodie??? Too bad, Tails yanks it out of the washing machine sopping wet and drops it on the floor with a splat to put his blanket in. They know that they can probably just wash their stuff together but it’s funnier this way.

They’re play fighting and Tails learned to do that infamous leg kick. You know the move you do when you’re cornered on your back? He just starts kicking his legs at full speed and Sonic starts screaming bc it’s nearly impossible to get past that move.

Sonic is eating chips and he has dust all over his hands? He purposely bypasses the numerous napkins they have just to go up to Tails and wipe his hands over his head to have the chip dust fall on top of him. Tails retaliates by shaking the empty chip bag over Sonic’s head.

Tails is an avid coffee drinker and Sonic has tried everything to stop his addiction. So he tries the famous ‘replace the sugar with salt’ trick to mess with him. One morning Tails puts the salt in instead and when he takes a sip Sonic already had that shit eating grin on his face. Tails immediately spits the coffee in his face and Sonic fall to the ground screaming.

Tails take advantage of his shorter height and sneakiness to kneel down and tie Sonic’s shoe laces. He’ll fall face first and before Tails can book it away Sonic will stick his leg out and make his brother fall too.

Their favorite way to embarrass the other is going onto each others social media accounts and changing something about their profile. Tails logs on one day and finds that his profile picture had been changed to an embarrassing photo Sonic took of him one day and PROMISED not to show anyone else. Sonic goes into his Twitter and for some reason there’s hundreds of posts hyping up Eggman and basically talking about how Eggman is the best/greatest, etc. His profile, header- everything is basically changed to pro-Eggman propaganda.

Fans: are you and Eggman friends now???

Sonic: I was hacked I would never say this shit pls you gotta believe me 😭

Tails LOVES bringing up the ‘divorced parents’ story whenever someone asks about the relationship between him and Sonic. Like Sonic is about to explain how Tails is his adoptive brother and Tails immediately interrupts and says, “Yeah, this is my dad. He got custody of me after the divorce and it’s been really hard lately so try to be nice to him ok? :(“

They’re eating out at a diner/restaurant and Sonic looooves secretly telling the waiters that it’s Tail’s birthday so they’ll do that embarrassing thing of coming to their table and singing happy birthday in front of the whole restaurant. Tails is mortified and covers his face every time and Sonic will record the whole thing like a corny parent and say “Oh he’s just a little shy! Smile at the camera Tails!1!!1!! 😁”

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #sonic and tails #tails the fox #unbreakable bond

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blueeyedgirll · 1 month ago

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"I hope we meet again" - prince charming spencer reid x princess reader

a/n: i’ve never even seen this episode. i have no idea what the context to prince charming reid is i just took the idea and ran with it. this is like a criminal minds-cinderella-romeo and juliet-my own mind clusterfuck of a fic, so read at your own risk. also i know exactly jack shit about being of royal blood so don’t come for me this is just what i imagine. this has been collecting dust in my drafts for like 6 months i just needed to post something 🙏

this fic includes: forbidden love (basically a romeo and juliet situation), stupid royal marriage rules aka you’re supposed to be married off, love at first sight, spencer being taller than you, a little angst tbh, moving super fast

The grand ball is a night that every civilian in your kingdom looks forward to.

Once a year, in the middle of spring, every loyal citizen your family rules over gathers in the grandiose ballroom of your castle to dance, drink, converse, and for a lucky few, find love. There have been many accounts in the past of townsfolk finding their one true love at one of your family's balls.

Not you, however.

The dating custom for princesses of your kingdom, dating back to when it was first established, is that the king chooses a prince for the princess to marry, and that was that. The princess, unfortunately, has next to no say in the matter. The princess can not date, nor flirt, nor indulge any of her romantic fantasies in order to maintain the crown’s image.

But this didn’t stop you from wanting to.

These urges only worsened when, last year, you laid eyes on the prince of the rival kingdom.

At the prior year’s ball, you had resigned from dancing for the night after becoming frustrated with the constricting rules stating that nothing romantic would come of socializing, and sat yourself on your throne at the head of the room.

And then, when he moved under a patch of candlelight drifting from the ceiling, you saw him. Prince Reid.

You knew who he was after just a glance. You knew everyone in your kingdom, and he surely wasn’t a face you recognized. His polished appearance told you he wasn’t just a traveler, but of the royal blood. The thing that confirmed that he was the Prince Reid was your father's icy gaze fixed on him the entire time he roamed your ballroom floor.

The reason your father wasn’t exactly peachy with that family of royals was because your father’s father’s father, or some other silly string of family titles, had been offended by the other king’s father’s father’s father, so he retorted, and it led to a disagreement lasting decades. As silly as it seems, this family feud had fueled your father’s hatred for the Reids as long as you could remember.

This is why you had never properly seen Prince Reid.

Or how handsome he was.

His silky chestnut hair gleamed under the candlelight, further complementing his stunning features. His navy blue finery complimented the shining crown atop his head, marking his status. He was tall and lean, which made it easy to follow his path through the crowd.

You idly touched the dainty necklace resting between your collarbones. You regarded it as your good luck charm, and on nights like these, you needed the luck.

Holding your position near the traveling band playing a jaunty melody, you watched him wander across the room. He appeared to be looking for something, but having no luck finding it.

Then he looked across the room at you and it felt as if everything else froze.

His brown eyes met yours in a lingering gaze and remained there until the bustling crowd obscured him from your view.

Without thinking, you snapped into movement and travelled across the crowded floor to try to find him.

You ignored all of the rules and regulations set in place for you. Did it really matter if your father wanted you to marry based on his choosing if you weren’t going to care any more about your husband than the dirt on the sole of your shoe?

You reached the place that Prince Reid was just standing, but he seemed to have disappeared. You deflated in disappointment, which was only amplified by the song the band was playing coming to an end. It was silent for a moment, and then the band started playing again.

This time, it was a slow, romantic song made for couples and blossoming lovers. Those who didn't have a partner cleared from the dance floor, and you would have done the same.

However, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned around, expecting it to be a couple needing space, or one of the townsfolk that just didn't quite seem to understand that you can only marry royals, or anyone else, really.

But the sight of those same lingering eyes took you by surprise.

Before you could react, Prince Reid brought a hand up to your shoulder level, offering his grasp to you.

“May I please have this dance?” He asked just quietly enough that it was apparent his offer was for you only. His voice sounded better than the music the band played, and made you feel as if you were wrapped in a fine silk blanket.

You smiled up at him, accepting his offer, and he intertwined his fingers with yours and politely wrapped an arm around your waist.

He pulled you close. Close enough that you could feel his warmth even through his layers of extravagant clothing.

You spent the rest of the evening in each other’s embrace, dancing through each song together.

At the end of the night, during the very last song, Prince Reid put a hand on the side of your face, grabbing your attention. His hand slipped to your chin, holding your face in place to kiss you.

He stares at you for a moment to sense any hesitation. After a moment, he leaned forward and his soft lips met yours.

He kissed you like he had known you for hundreds of lifetimes and loved you in each one of them. He kissed you like he didn't ever want to stop kissing you.

Of course, all good things must come to an end, so when the final song ends, you pulled away.

Your quick thinking, however, left Prince Reid with something to remember you by. You pull off your good luck necklace and wrap your arms around his shoulders, subtly leaving it on his neck.

“I have to go. My father can’t see us together,” you sadly explained.

“I know. I know.”

He pressed one last kiss to your lips before leaving you with his parting words.

“I hope we can meet again, princess.”

With that, he slipped through the ballroom doors, leaving you with nothing but the memory of his kiss.

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #prince charming reid #prince charming spencer reid #no beta we die like men

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kt-the-lee · 11 months ago

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No Longer Ruined - Hazbin Hotel Tickle Fic (HuskerDust)

A/N hi everyone!! this is my first fanfic on this account, i used to write a fair bit on my old deactivated account but I stopped for a couple years so i’m a little bit rusty, but i just love these two so much that i simply HAD to write for them! (this was also really self-indulgent for me to write so i hope you enjoy AHHHHH)

inspired by this post by @duckymcdoorknob : “We interrupt our usual programming to bring forth Angel Dust who is terrified of being tickled (bc of Val) until Husk shows him that it doesn’t have to always be torturous.”

Lee!AngelDust, Ler!Husk

warnings: very brief mentions of Angel’s job (not very much detail but important context to the story), sad!Angel

Word count: 2,133

One thing about Angel Dust is that he HATED being tickled.

Well, that wasn’t a complete truth. It was his favourite thing in the world once upon a time, but then it got ruined by various jobs that Val made him undergo. And that did make him quite sad, he wished he could have it in his life again, but he feared it was associated with one too many bad memories at this point.

And now, the thought of it terrified him.

This was made all too apparent when Charlie (the resident tickle monster of the Hazbin Hotel) decided to attack Vaggie in the middle of the lobby one afternoon. This was a regular occurrence, and everyone usually watched fondly as the usually stoic Vaggie let herself laugh (that is until the tables turned and Charlie then gets absolutely destroyed, she may initiate most tickle fights but usually ends up spectacularly losing them!). However, this was the first time Angel had witnessed this spectacle.

And he just couldn’t bring himself to watch.

The laughs mixed with screams, the squirming, the panicked breathing, it just sent him to a dark place. Where the masses chuckled and cooed at the girlfriends’ antics, Angel felt his breathing hitch and an unpleasant anxiety building in his stomach. Tears pricked in his eyes and he tried to inconspicuously leave the room, unnoticed. Or so he thought.

“Hey, what’s up, you okay?”

Angel turned around and saw Husk, head tilted, a concerned look on his face. Panic shot through him; “oh shit, did everyone notice me leave? That must’ve looked REALLY fucking weird, how am I going to explain-”

“Relax, nobody else saw you go,” Husk said gently, sitting on a nearby couch and directed Angel to take the place next to him. “Everyone was far too distracted watching those dumbasses wreck each other, although it’s a frequent occurrence it does never get boring!” he chuckled as the laughter from the lobby turned up a notch, but then frowned when he saw Angel visibly flinch at the sound.

“I’ve… never seen ‘em do this before,” he explained as he took the seat next to Husk, tensing up slightly as a paw was placed around his shoulders but immediately relaxed. He trusted Husk, perhaps more than anyone in this godforesaken place. But could he explain this?

Husk looked at the spider with concern in his eyes. He was triggered, clearly, but he couldn’t quite piece together why the girls tickling each other had caused this.

“Do you wanna talk about it, Angel? We don’t gotta, but you know I’d never judge you for anything. We’re both losers, don’t ya forget that, so nothing is off-limits.”

Angel looked up at the cat, debating for a full minute as to whether he was going to indulge. However, as he heard Charlie squeal from the room over from them and physically had to hide his head in his hands, he figured an explanation was desrved.

“I… just…” he stuttered, trying to find the words. “They’ve been ruined for me.”

Husk looked slightly confused. “What have? Tickles?”

“Yeah… there was a week-long shoot a few years back, and it always got taken too far. Lotta ignoring of safewords and not stopping even though I begged and begged and begged, my body felt like it was going to shut down-“ Angel shuddered as he remembered. “I’ve done a lot of weird shit for this job, Husk, ya know? And you know I love to relinquish control. But this, by far, was the one time I felt the most trapped and suffocated.”

The usually stoic Husk felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. Sure, tickling was torturous, that was the POINT. But it was also supposed to have an aspect of fun and trust and love behind it, and the fact that Val had taken that from him made him both upset and absolutely fuming.

“Fuck me, that’s intense.” Husk couldn’t find the words for awhile. “And also fully understandable as to why you’d be triggered now.”

A scream and a giggly “NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEERE” from Charlie in the other room made Angel tense somehow harder than he was before, and Husk tightened his hold around his shoulders.

“If it’s any reassurance, the girls’ dumba ass tickle fights are nothing like that, there’s a lot of silliness and love behind it and it would never ever get taken that far” said Husk, trying to reassure the spider. “Infact, I’m fairly sure they both love every second of it, no matter how much they protest in the moment.”

“Oh I know that, really I do.” said Angel. “ I know what they’re MEANT to be like, it’s like I said, they were ruined for me.”

Oh?

So that meant…

“You used to like being tickled?” Husk enquired, a slight grin in his voice as he enjoyed the thought of his sweet spider enjoying something so silly. That thought was fleeting as he realised how that was no longer true because of his job, and Val. God. the things he could do to that bastard for breaking Angel like this…

Angel nodded, cheeks burning slightly. “A whole lot, used to ask Cherry for it all the time. But I fear I’m too far gone now, I’m too scared it’ll go too far and people won’t stop.” Angel sighed, and flinched again as the laughter somehow got EVEN LOUDER through the walls (what on EARTH was Vaggie doing to Charlie?). “I want to like it again, I do think about it a lot still.”

“We can try now, if you like?”

Husk looked into Angel’s eyes to gauge his reaction. He couldn’t tell by that one sentence if he had just put the fear of god into him, or hit the nail on the head with exactly the best way to fix this.

Angel couldn’t tell, either. On the one hand, the thought of being tickled again terrified him. He had managed to avoid it as much as he could outside of work, and even in work he would try and steer the content towards other things. However, he knew deep down that he wanted this back in his life. He trusted Husk, so maybe this would be the perfect way to ease back into it? He deliberated, and made his decision.

“Yeah… okay.”

Husk breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t overstepped a boundary, and felt the grin returning to his face as he figured out the best way to do this.

“Anything I should know before we try this out? Now is the time for boundaries, my little spider-” said Husk, a teasing tone already etched into his voice which made Angel chuckle and roll his eyes.

“Stop when I tell you to-“

“That’s a given, dumbass, I was gonna do that anyway.”

That made Angel relax, he wasn’t used to people listening to his pleas. Maybe this would actually be okay…

“Oh… okay! Uhhhh, no foot stuff please, that was always Val’s… yeah. Favourite. So that’d probably send me into a panic.”

He thought for a second.

“Otherwise…. youregoodtogo-“ he mumbled as he buried his face in Husk’s chest, preparing himself. Oh god, what if this was a bad idea? What if he just hated it no matter what? What if he yelled at or hurt Husk? What if-

All thoughts in his head were silenced as the paw that was placed on his shoulder began to walk ever-so-gently around his bicep. Husk traced his entire upper arm slowly and delicately, before moving all the way round to where Angel’s underarm met his ribcage.

“This okay?”

Angel could only nod, a trace of a smile forming on his lips as Husk began to lightly scritch the spot. Nothing too intense, nothing that would overhelm him. But it couldn’t be ignored.

Husk felt the spider tense up below him as he used one claw to dance lazy, gentle circles around Angel’s ribcage. He glanced down to make sure he was okay, but it seemed to be more of a tickly flinch than an uncomfortable jerk away, so he persisted, adding more claws to slowly intensify the sensation.

It was then that he heard it.

The giggles.

And it was just the sweetest sound Husk had ever heard.

In fact, he got so distracted by the sound of Angel’s giggles that he subconsciously stopped tickling him to listen. Which, of course, stopped the giggles.

“Hey, ya didn’t need to stop!” said Angel, surprising himself.

“Oh I know… I just got distracted by something” chuckled Husk, beginning the movement of his claws again, as slow and as gentle as before. Angel tensed and giggled again, but didn’t seem to be protesting too much.

Angel had missed this. He had missed being in a safe place where he was free to be held and just let someone dote on him for a bit. Head empty, no control, no expectations, to just relax and feel happy. He couldn’t help his arm flinching against Husks gentle tickles around his ribcage, but he also noticeably lent into both Husk himself and his paws on his ribs.

Husk took this positive body language and gentle giggles to turn it up a notch, scratching with slightly more intent and pressure, making wigging motions with his paw. He also walked his fingers down from Angel’s ribcage to the sides of his stomach.

The spider’s gentle giggles quickly became slightly louder laughs as Husk did this, and initially felt a zap of panic. However, it was impossible to feel unsafe in the arms of the cat, so he let himself feel the sensations. It wasn’t TOO intense, but it was certainly enough for him to squirm and cackle, especially when Husk added a second paw to mirror his actions on the opposite side at the same time.

“Hehehehehey!!” laughed Angel. “Thahahahat was uncahahahahalled for!!”

“Oh was it now?” teased Husk, feeling a little more confident that he wouldn’t end up overwhelming Angel at this point. “Because I don’t hear you protesting, baby. Infact, I’d probably say you’re having a pretty swell time right now!”

“Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup” protested Angel, cheeks burning redder than the skies of Hell itself. “Teheheheasing mahahahahakes it wOHOHOHORSE-“

Upon the last word of his sentence, Husk moved both of his tickling paws to the front of his stomach, spidering the spider’s belly like there was no tomorrow. Angel SQUEALED, throwing his head back into Husk’s shoulder as he tried and failed to whine about quite how mean he was being right now.

Despite this, there was one thing that Angel couldn’t deny. Fucking hell, he could never deny how much he’d missed this. To be able to enjoy being tickled again without the fear of boundaries being disrespected and his every part of his body panicking as strangers took advantage of him, under Val’s perverted instruction.

“You doing okay down there?!” Husk chuckled, checking in as Angel arched his back and fell backwards onto the couch. Husk had one paw kneading into an armpit whilst the other made various shapes into his tummy. This seemed to be a killer combination as Angel snorted in his cackles and basically folded his body in half.

The cat slowed his attack to let Angel catch his breath, which may have been perfect timing as the spider managed to breathe out a “Stohohop nohohoho mohohore” through his depleting giggles. This made Husk briefly panic, thinking he had took it too far and this had all been for nothing. But the persistent grin and sniling eyes of Angel reassured him that he hadn’t put a foot wrong. Or, rather, a paw wrong.

“Thahahahat was fun” said Angel, residual giggles still pouring from his mouth as he sat himself up, rubbing the leftover tickly feelings away from his torso. “Might take a few goes and a bit of practice, but it certainly is an improvement to fifteen minutes ago!”

Husk felt his heart melt as Angel cuddled back into him and, as the room silenced, the laughter from Charlie and Vaggie’s ordeal STILL could be heard through the walls. However, now it made Angel smile fondly as opposed to being terrified for his life.

“How are they STILL going?” pondered Husk, shaking his head fondly at the sounds from the other room

Angel shrugged, and laughed as he heard Charlie let out a noise not too dissimilar to a squeal that he himself had produced moments earlier. “Shall we go and observe?”

Husk grinned and nodded, tweaking Angel’s side before taking his hand. Angel flinched and tutted at the cat, but couldnt hide the endearing look in his eyes as they ventured back into the lobby to observe the girlfriends tickle fight.

It certainly was a happy day in Hell.

#hazbin tickles #hazbin hotel tickle #lee!angeldust #ler!husk #tickle community #sfw tickle #sfw tickle community #sfw tickling #tickle fic #tickle fanfic #huskerdust tickles #tickles #tickle #sfw tk community #sfw tk blog

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lululandd · 1 year ago

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captain john price trusted you with his bank account so you decided to:

commit credit card fraud >:3 thats it thats the post there nothing underneath this, dont look >:3

♡ get him new hats.

you can’t be fancy with it because they still need to be in somewhat stealthy colours but you got him several new ones because one day you try to kiss him on top of his head while he was still wearing it and you kissed dust instead. no, washing does not work, its still dusty.

♡ buy him expensive shirts.

mans love to come home showing off his 6pack of white shirts saying they were on sale. the happiness on his face is palpable but damn he’s the captain of a multinational counter terrorism organisation or some shit and he deserves nice things! besides! youve met his men, the one in the facemask has a cashmere hoodie and the handsome one called gaz wore a killer looking leather jacket so you’re gonna get your sweet captain the nicest softest shirts you can find in all the colour he likes.

♡ buy stuff for yourself

john has side eyed you numerous times when he checks his financials. complains that youre not buying things. groceries and takeouts dont count! he’s trusted his wholeass wallet to you for a reason goddamnit!

♡ get some beard products

you think his beard is nice and soft and smooth looking on its own? nah thats all you :3 his teammates have noticed that the quality of his beard deteriorates if theyre on multiple month missions and then looks real nice again when he comes back from leave.

♡ withdraw cash.

he’s really careful with financials, knowing with just a little hacking people can track what he (and you) buys, where, when, and whether there’s a schedule or not; so you always get cash instead of using the card on the store immediately.

#captain john price x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing

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wildemaven · 1 year ago

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meant to be | javier peña

-> pairing: javier peña x f!reader

-> wc: 1645

-> content warnings: 18+ blog; domestic javi, established relationship, unprotected p in v, fluff, talks of starting a family, reader has zero descriptive features

-> a/n: this was posted on my other account and i am moving it here now. it is also a rewrite of an older fic i did with frankie.

masterlist

Fall is settling in nicely in Texas. The days are still warm, but the weekends no longer hold as much daylight as they did weeks ago.

Everything transitioning into its autumnal journey, your yard drenched in rustic hues and sunshine.

You and Javier both loved taking advantage of the nicer weather, wanting to soak up as much of it as possible before the shift into a colder season, deciding to spend your evenings on the patio as the days wound down and the sun set behind the pasture on the west side of the ranch.

Chores were the first thing that needed to be tackled. Divide and conquer seemed to work well for you both. You took on the inside duties of laundry, dusting, and food prep, while Javier managed the outside— mowing, tree trimming, truck washing.

Bed made with clean sheets, a load of dirty clothes placed into the washer– the previous load hung in the backyard on the clothesline, dinner prepared and waiting– your list of to-do’s dwindling as the day went on. Now you find yourself planted at the sink of dirty dishes, your kitchen window a front row seat to the old barn, your eyes glued on your husband as he washes his truck.

His striped sky blue shirt encapsulates every detail of his back, sleeves tight around the bulk of his arms, muscles flexing as he scrubs the soapy sponge back and forth across the metal surface– and you thank whoever designed his well-fitted jeans. A week's worth of dirt slowly slid off the sides of the old ranch truck, a prized possession that had been passed down from Chucho when Javier had decided to take on more responsibilities around the ranch.

It has been two years since moving into the home Javier grew up in, wanting something big with the hopes of starting a family in the future. Chucho insisted you both move in, stating the house was far too big for just him— he moved into the ranch’s guest house down the dirt road. Memories tucked to every corner of the house, old family photos still hanging in the very spot his Mama placed them.

Javier must sense he’s being watched when he turns towards the kitchen window, catching your eyes on him. His gaze lingers a bit, soap and water dripping from the sponge in his large hand. He shoots you a wink with a smile that makes you instantly weak.

“Shit!” The mug you had been washing slips from your soapy hands into the water below, water splashing back at you, soaking the thin material of your dress, your attention drawn back to the sink and the remaining dishes. Somehow Javier still makes you flustered after all these years with just a simple look thrown your way.

Glancing back out the window again to find Javier is no longer there, the suds freely dripping off the truck door and sponge discarded on the ground. The creak of the screen door lets you know exactly where your husband is as you proceed to dry the drinking glasses and place them in the cupboard. His shuffling around in the living room does little to help you know what he’s up to.

“Javi?” You call out to him as you finish putting away the last of the plates and bowls, wiping the counter off before you go in search of your husband.

The slight crackle of a record starting makes you aware of his location– the living room. His old collection of records and record player had been boxed away in the attic after he moved away. Last Spring, while you were putting away the winter blankets, you stumbled upon his music collection– something from nearly every genre. You pulled everything down one weekend while he was busy in town with Chucho, having everything set up on the bookcase and a record going when he got home. It became a habit that one of you would slip on a new record, windows open allowing the breeze to carry the songs throughout the house.

A familiar tune begins, it instantly brings a smile to your face.

“Wise men say...”

The low timber of his voice sends a tingle down your spine any time he sings your wedding song. For such a reserved man, who refuses to indulge in karaoke, he jumps at any chance to serenade you within the walls of your home— one of the many things you love about him.

A set of arms wrap around you, welcoming you back from your walk down memory lane, pulling you against his chest as he begins to move about the kitchen with you. Your bodies swaying together as the music continues, his face nuzzled in close to your cheek as he hums along with the song.

“Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be…”

Your body leans into him, the rest of the chores fully abandoned as you both waver about the kitchen, savoring how easy it is to create new memories in your home.

“You sure know how to get out of chores Peña.” You tell him just as he spins you around so you’re facing him, looping your arms around his neck while his hands settle on your back— Javier singing along completely ignoring your comment.

“If I’m not mistaken Querida, I’m pretty sure you were hardly putting an effort into yours.” He teases you before grabbing your hand to send you twirling around. You can’t contain your laughter, living for these spontaneous moments of ease with the man you’re so completely head over heels for. Your body is pulled back into his, resuming the energetic flow between the two of you. A sweet rhythm of bliss now strumming through your body as you melt into his arms.

“Hmm, I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Hiding your smirk into his warm neck, knowing full well what he’s referring to.

“That wasn’t you gawking at me through the window—“

“I was not gawking, Javi!” As you playfully pat his chest. “I was just admiring the view.”

“You were in fact gawking. I think I clocked you at 10 minutes from the first moment I noticed you hadn’t moved.”

“You are so exaggerating!” He’s definitely not wrong though, it’s hard to pull your eyes away from such a thing of beauty.

“How about we take this to the bedroom, Querida– and I’ll show you exaggeration!” He taunts into your ear.

“Javier! Your truck is half washed in the driveway— and I know you’re going to be pissed about the soap drying on it right now. Plus, I already made the bed.”

He’s dragging you back towards the stairs that lead to the bedroom, his infectious smirk displayed across his stupid handsome face, your body doing little to stop itself from his magnetic pull.

“I’ll just wash it again. I’ll even set a chair up for you to admire up close. Get you one of those ice cold beers too.” He says as he falls back into the bed, pulling your body on top of his.

“And I’m pretty sure this won’t be the last time we dirty these sheets this weekend…” His voice muffled against your neck, his lips planting kiss after kiss as he pleads his case– you easily succumb to his antics.

His hands work at the line of buttons that trail down the front of your dress, your own undoing his buckle before working at the button and zipper of his jeans– he hisses as your hands hastily move over bugle straining behind his jeans.

Your dress is open and hanging off your shoulders as you slowly sink down on Javier’s cock, the stretch of him a welcomed adjustment, his length hitting something delicious as you settle at the base of him.

“Fuck, Javi!!” Hands splayed over Javier’s firm chest for support, your head thrown back as a rapturous whine pours out into the room, a slight bounce to your breasts as you move— the cups of your bra pulled down, the cool air has your nipples pebbled and tight. Javier is taken by your angelic state— you're a sight to be seen.

Javier’s fingers are digging into the meat of your thighs, the slow stuttering roll of your hips as you move over his cock has him worked up faster than he has anticipated.

“Querida— Shit! Baby, I’m not gonna last— you look so good riding my cock like that!” His hips bucking up at the feeling of your cunt clenching around him.

“I’m right there with you, Amor!”

A few swipes over your throbbing clit and a string of quick thrusts, both of you cresting the euphoric peak in unison.

You collapse on top of Javier, a strong arm wraps around your waist, a hand cupping your neck, Javier determined to keep you as close as possible— you fully melting into his touch.

Breathing ragged and hearts racing— bodies perfectly satiated and filled with an intense love for each other.

“I should probably get up and get dinner started. That should be plenty of time for you to rewash the truck.” You don’t show any signs of actually doing so, too relaxed to care about finishing the rest of your chores.

“Or— we can just lay here a little longer. Save the food and truck washing for tomorrow. We can go into town later and get dinner instead.”

“A man after my heart. I’d marry you if I wasn’t already.” He rolls you off him onto your back, hands roaming over your dewy skin as he kisses you slowly.

The lull of the record player echoes through the house as the music fades out, clothes and sheets are thrown about the bedroom, the day’s plans forgotten as you both seek out a more exhilarating afternoon.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x f!reader #wildemaven writes #pedro pascal

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years ago

Text

Lover 💗 | Bradley Bradshaw Imagine

TGM masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x singer!reader (female/romance)

Content Warnings: fluff, mentions of sexism, references to pop culture, profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 5.6k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @auroradawnwrites 💗)

Premise : When it came to her love life, singer and songwriter Y/n L/n had a reputation where it felt like the world was against her to the point she doubted ever finding her perfect match. Being in the industry for so long made it difficult to envision what a life with her potential soulmate would be like. But sometimes great things come to people who are patient. And finding the person who made Y/n feel like the only girl in the world had that reputation flicker away like dust on a bookshelf.

Note: I know I keep apologizing for the long waits in my requests but I promise it’s because of having to balance school, random shit happening in my life, and wanting to put out a developed, well-thought out story that the requested person deserves 🥹 and I realized about week ago when I started writing this one after finally getting to it after it was sent in February. @auroradawnwrites I saw that you posted last month that you were leaving your blog but if you happen to see this on another account or still have the notifications on for that blog just know I’m so sorry for this taking so long and I hope it was everything you imagined 😭

Songs headcanonned for singer!reader: ‘Love Story,’ ‘Bad Blood,’ ‘Look What You Made Me Do,’ ‘Getaway Car’ ‘You Need To Calm Down’ by Taylor Swift. ‘Love’ by Lana Del Rey. Albums mentioned that are headcanonned for singer!reader: ‘Lover’, ‘1989’ (I just changed it to 1986 to suit the headcanonned year of birth for reader), ‘Reputation,’ ‘Fearless,’ ‘Red’

——————————

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back our next guest,” Jimmy Fallon grins to the audience, arm slightly raising towards the curtains. “She’s been a friend to The Tonight Show for a long time. Here to celebrate twenty years since her debut and to talk about her newest album ‘Lover,’ singer and songwriter—the one and only, Y/n L/n!!”

There’s no need to turn on the sign reading ‘Applause,’ because the audience are on their feet when the curtains draw open slightly to reveal the beaming popstar. People are waving frantically, whistling, some even on the verge of tears at the fact they were in the presence of their idol. It was even hard hearing the band play from the noise

Y/n smiled the entire walk to Jimmy, blowing kisses at the crowd before embracing the man in a hug and settling down on the arm chair. “Wow, wow, wow,” he shouted, watching her give one last wave as he sat in his own chair. “Hi, Y/n.”

“Hi, Jimmy! It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“It’s great to see you too, it’s been awhile since we’ve had you on, huh?” Both make faces indicating they were thinking about her last appearance on the show.

“I think it’s been almost…six years,” Y/n tapped her lips with a finger. “Pre-pandemic I believe—because I haven’t really done much since 2019.”

“Yeah, you took a bit of a break.”

“A much needed one,” she chuckled, “But it feels so great to be back. I’ve been taking this time to really put time into discovering who I am as a person and what is next for me. I’m so grateful for the fans who’ve supported me all this time—I know,” she looks to the camera, “I know I kept you waiting, but fear not, I am back and better than ever.” The statement ignites a holler and applause from the crowd.

Jimmy claps with the audience, “That’s what I’m talking about. What can you tell us about this new music you’ve been working on? I know I mentioned your upcoming one, but you actually announced you will be releasing another at the end of this year, correct?”

Instantly Y/n lights up, “That’s right, Jimmy. For starters Lover is probably my most personal album to date. During the pandemic I basically shut myself off from everyone—and the world because I deleted the social media apps off my phone,” there’s a light chuckle from the crowd, “which made everyone go crazy thinking I died. But I can assure you I was just trying to put all my time and energy into writing, producing, selecting which songs would go on the track list. Each song is there for a specific reason—telling a story per say, and I feel listeners will be able to relate in some way.”

“Why the name ‘Lover,’?” Jimmy asked with curiosity, “is it a metaphor for the story or does it have a deeper meaning?” Judging by the cheesy smile Y/n started to do, Jimmy straightened his posture. “Are you….?”

“It’s for the lovers, you know?” Y/n shrugged nonchalantly. Those around didn’t buy it, leaning forward in their seats with curious eyes. “Yeah it’s about love and those feelings where you think your heart is about to burst from your chest. Like I said, many will be able to relate to it.”

Jimmy gave a look, “So did someone in your life inspire it perhaps?”

Instead of answering right at that second, Y/n remained grinning as the face of inspiration and the owner of her heart appeared in her mind. His gorgeous hazel eyes glowing under the sunlight. The feeling of his warm body against hers each time he held her in his arms. Tickling sensations from his mustache when he rained kisses across her skin. The sound of his laugh whenever he made a joke or she did something silly just to see him smile. Fingers dancing across the piano while they sang their favorite songs in their own private concert.

Her lover. Her life. Her reason for waking up everyday in an endless state of bliss. The person who inspired nearly every song on the album, best describing it as a love letter to him.

Relationships and romance had been a complicated part of Y/n’s life and career. A reputation often frowned upon despite only seeing a small picture.

It all started one summer day in Nashville, Tennessee. 17-year-old Y/n had big dreams and aspirations of being a singer, spending her free time playing guitar and writing songs about teenage experiences. Growing up in Tennessee, the birthplace of country music, Y/n was surrounded by the legacy of icons like Dolly Parton, The Dixie Chicks, Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Reba McEntire, and Kenny Rogers. It was all she listened to growing up, though she did dabble in pop and R&B—going on to cite Aaliyah, TLC, Whitney Houston, and David Bowie as influences in her music.

“I hear the high school is having a talent show Friday night,” her coworker hummed, handing over the now clean plate to be dried. “Did you sign up?”

“No,” Y/n tiredly exhaled. It was pushing 8 o’clock and she still had one more hour until closing. Working at a popular diner gave Y/n the ability to save for college and an apartment, but it meant working more hours than what she legally was supposed to—on top of balancing school and band. “I have a pre-cal test on monday so I planned to stay in and study.”

“Oh c’mon! You’ve been itching to sign up all year—why back out now? All for a test you know you’ll get an A on?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, taking another plate to dry, “That’s reaching and you know it.”

“Y/n, you’re one of the smartest people in our grade. Literally will be in the top five come graduation. It’s a Friday night and the whole school is gonna be there,” her friend pleads to her, “you’ve got a voice that’s meant to be heard and songs that should be on the radio.”

The teen gives a ‘I don’t think so,’ shrug, “Eh, I feel my style is not exactly what country music is looking for.”

“Maybe so…but maybe it’s what it needs.”

Guitar in hand and shaking like a leaf, Y/n pulled everything in her to drum her fingers on the strings. The spotlight shining down on her made her squint, unable to see into the crowd save for the silhouette of their heads.

“Just breathe, Y/n,” she mentally told herself. It was dead quiet in the auditorium after a light applause when the drama teacher called her name. And since she wasn’t using an electric guitar, there was no way to hook hers up to the speakers. “Breathe and let your voice do the work.”

Clearing her throat, her lips curled into a shy smile, “This is an original song I’ve been working on. Hope you like it.” Slowly the tune began to echo through the auditorium. Y/n’s voice was shaky at the beginning, but soon found confidence when she closed her eyes and pictured herself in the comfort of her own room.

“We were both young when I first saw you.”

“I close my eyes and the flashback starts, I’m standing’ there.”

“On a balcony in summer air.”

Those in the crowd perked up, schoolmates looking at each other with impressed gazes.

“See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns.”

“See you make your way through the crowd, and say, “Hello.”

“Little did I know.”

Finally finding her rhythm, a genuine grin broke out on her face.

“That you were Romeo, you were throwin’ pebbles.”

“And my daddy said, “Stay away from Juliet—and I was cryin’ on the staircase,”

“Beggin’ you, “Please don’t go,” she let her voice drag out the ‘go’, igniting jaws to be dropped. “And I said.”

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting, all there’s left to do is run.”

“You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess.”

“It’s a love story, baby, just say, ‘Yes.’”

Needless to say, Y/n went home with the winning trophy….and a meeting with Capitol Records Nashville.

Going to college was no longer the plan for Y/n once her signature hit the contract. 3 albums and a promise to take country music by storm was the new future. Staring as soon as her tassel turned from right to left with the class of 2004. Y/n packed up her tiny Honda Civic with everything she had, kissed her family goodbye with plans to see them for the holidays and settled into a cozy studio apartment smack in the middle of Nashville.

“You have a unique voice and lyrical direction, Y/n,” Randy Kingston, one of the execs at CRN said to her one day. “You’re not full country—by that I mean there’s a pop element you bring to the table. Country-Pop if you will.”

Y/n didn’t know how to respond except nod, “Uhhh yeah? I listen to a lot of different genres—-Pop being a big one. A-and I like to experiment by adding different….flavors to my music.” Her expression turns nervous, “is that gonna be a problem, sir?”

Randy rubbed the bottom of his chin with a hand, “No, I don’t think it will. It’s refreshing and something new. Frankly I think you’re gonna do well with the youngin’s. Your age range will likely be the best receivers.”

Turns out Randy was right. Releasing her first two singles were met with wide recognition from teenagers and young adults. Topping the country music charts for several weeks. During that time Y/n began working on her debut self-titled album on top of filming her first music video for ‘Love Story’. When it dropped, it didn’t just get noticed within the country scene. MTV released it during their early morning showings most people played when getting ready for school and work. Doing so allowed ‘Love Story’ to get more attention that people who were not even country fans were purchasing the single.

“Platinum?!” Y/n screamed at the sight of the framed record indicating ‘Love Story’ sold one million copies.

“Platinum,” Randy grinned, presenting it to her. “Well done, kiddo. You deserve it.” He also dropped the ball that Ellen Degeneres called to schedule an appearance—which nearly had Y/n drop the frame in her hands.

The Ellen Degeneres Show was the first public interview Y/n had ever done. And….it was the first time she was questioned about her love life. Something that would become her greatest nemesis throughout her entire career.

“So your song ‘Love Story’ is all about love, yes?” Ellen asked, igniting a laugh from the audience given the title of the song made it obvious what it was about.

“Yes.”

“So does that mean you got some love going on for yourself? Anyone who inspired this for you?”

“U-Uh, no?” It came out more like a question, causing the audience to laugh while she nervously smiled. “Not really—I-I’m not dating anyone currently, but the song sorta came from my love for romance novels and movies. Everyone desires love,” she nods to herself, “and I wanted to write something that people could relate to. Plus I love Romeo and Juliet—which is the big inspiration for the song.”

Following the appearance on Ellen, Y/n focused on writing music and releasing her albums. Her unique sound of combining country with elements of pop and R&B had listeners from all over the world drawn to her. It was a new era of country music.

But not everyone was very accepting of it.

Older generations and die hard lovers of traditional country were very unwelcoming to Y/n. They felt she didn’t belong in the genre and was better suited for pop. Though Y/n agreed to some extent, she feared making the transition from country to full pop wouldn’t be wise. She was still roughly new to the industry, trusting the judgment of her label who she was contracted to do 3 albums for. So she continued to fulfill her duty until the right moment came.

By the end of the first decade in the 21st century, Y/n had established herself one of the leading artists in country music with four Grammys, six MTV Moonmen, four AMA’s, five Billboard awards and 12 CMA’s. She appeared twice on SNL, performed at Dick Clark’s New Year Rockin’ Eve, and even collaborated with Miranda Lambert.

Yet the media liked to only talk about Y/n’s dating history.

In the first year of her career, Y/n briefly dated Jesse McCartney after first meeting at the 2005 Kids Choice Awards. Shortly after their breakup she was seen with Harry Potter actor Tom Felton, but nothing came out of it. The ‘date’ the media thought had actually been a handout between several of their mutual friends where they happened to be pictured smiling and laughing. After that incident Y/n did get into a five month long relationship with Leonardo DiCaprio, who was twelve years older than her and sparked endless conversation in the media.

Then in 2007-2009 Y/n became involved with Eddie Redmayne following their introduction to each other at Ellen Degeneres’ birthday party. They remained friends afterwards, but their relationship inspired a lot of Y/n’s work which resulted in people criticizing her for making too many break up songs.

“You’ve had quite the track record when it comes to the romance scene, Y/n,” David Letterman voiced during her appearance on his show. The singer was overcome with immediate dread. Again was she subjected to questions about her love life when it was no one’s business. But of course, if there’s one thing men like David have, it’s the audacity. “Which brings me to my next questions: are you dating anyone? And are they gonna have a song about them once you two break up?”

Now unfortunately it was common knowledge late night show hosts were disrespectful towards their guests and didn’t know what boundaries were. Though this was known, however, there was still the underlying pressure to keep silent by smiling and pushing through. Sometimes playing it off like it doesn’t affect you was better than having an outburst and being criticized more by the media. Displaying any offense would label them emotional and sensitive.

Though she wanted nothing more than to walk off the set and cry in her dressing room, Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and answered as calmly as she could muster. “I’m not seeing anyone at the moment. I just want to focus on my music and what comes from my heart is what I put out.”

When Y/n did get into a relationship or was seen on a friendly date—hell even being spotted when out with a male friend for lunch had paparazzi and tabloids bombarding her.

“Is love in the air….again? Country music’s it girl, 24-year-old Y/n L/n, was seen holding hands with Australian actor Xavier Samuel who’s playing Riley Biers in the upcoming third installment of The Twilight Saga. Just this past March Y/n was linked to the son of Tennessee’s Attorney General. Let’s not forget L/n was in a two year romance with Eddie Redmayne before calling it quits last fall. Fans are starting to notice a pattern when it comes to L/n’s relationships and album releases. Should we expect her new single to drop within the next year? And will this romance with Samuel blossom into something long term or end as a spur of the moment flame?”

Notice how all the attention is Y/n and her life? Never once were the men she dated ever asked questions like she was—even if they had a history rivaling hers. Take Leo for example. The women he dated only got younger than Y/n as the years went on and people barely bat an eye.

After the release of her third studio album with CRN, Y/n had a tough decision to make. By that point her last album had more pop than country. The reaction of the fans was pretty much, “You need to just label yourself a pop artist now.” “‘Red’ was literally 90% Pop with 10% Country.” “Stop saying you’re a country music star when the last album you put out was anything but country.”

So…it was safe to say it was time to make the move to a different genre. Thankfully Capitol Records in Los Angeles was ready with the pen in hand to sign Y/n on. There she had creative control on what she put out and Y/n was excited to get started on a new era in her life.

2012 would go down as the year where Y/n was on the edge of her seat with how her career would go. Fans were mixed about her going to pop despite her recent music having mostly pop elements. Then there was the fact she was dating Tyler Hoechlin from Teen Wolf which had fangirls hating her guts for dating their celebrity crush.

What’s sad is Y/n was used to that reception whenever she was in a relationship with a public figure. First Jesse then Tom, Leo, Eddie, and Xavier. Can’t forget the times she got caught on dates with Robert Pattinson, Micheal B. Jordan, and Chris Evans. Then there were the incidents where the paparazzi captured her making out with Sebastian Stan at an after party and leaving the 2011 Grammys with Nate Buzoliac before he made it big as Kol Mikaelson in The Vampire Diaries.

Getting a break was not in the cards for the singer.

When things ended with Tyler in 2015, Y/n told herself she would not date anyone for awhile. Her album ‘1986’ was met with critical acclaim and positive reception from fans, earning her more awards to her growing collection, including the Grammy for Album of the Year. The entire time on tour she focused on having fun and not worrying about what people thought of her. Yeah she still got questions from interviews and hosts about dating she’d simply reply with, “I’m single, and let’s not entertain that further. Next question.”

@ inmyreputationera: I guess @Y/nL/n86 decided romance isn’t exactly her thing. I wonder how that’ll change her music.

@ stanningselenerr: not me checking @ Y/ndatingupdates daily for any new info.

Those were just the handful of tweets Y/n saw everyday on her Twitter feed. It got to the point she’d have to mute notifications whenever she was tagged. While she hated doing so because she loved interacting with fans, the singer needed time away from the constant surveillance of her personal life.

So fast forward to mid-summer of 2018. Y/n hadn’t put out an album in nearly three years nor had she been dating anyone. Yeah people still asked her from time to time though she learned to not let it affect her. Honestly it was a breath of fresh air. She was happy, healthy, and living her best life. Putting her heart and soul into songwriting which was heavily inspired by the reputation she’d garnered since her debut. Not to mention developing closer bonds with her friends and family after making the impulse decision in 2017 to move back to Tennessee. It felt good to be back home. Returning to her roots and the place that started it all after being away for so many years. It was a great time.

Now she was due back to Los Angeles to meet with her manager and producers. Y/n was ready to get back into the studio as much as her fans were telling her they were waiting for new music. With a first-class ticket in hand, Y/n boarded her red-eye flight from Nashville International to LAX and settled in for the five hour flight. It would have them landing at just after 3am Pacific time and while Y/n wanted to rest, she could not for the life of her sleep on a plane.

Approaching her seat Y/n noticed a man in a military uniform seated in the seat beside hers. “Excuse me,” she caught his attention, his head raising where he put two and two together by her hand pointing to the window seat.

“Oh sorry, ma’am,” it took everything in Y/n not to stare at him when he got up. He was very handsome. In his uniform, hazel eyes and sun kissed skin. The most notable feature was his mustache that most men could not pull off yet he seemed to.

“Do you need help with that?” The question pulled her from her mini daydream. He was referring to the carryon bag in her hand.

“Oh I got it—.”

“It’s no problem,” he was already taking the bag from her, securing it in the overhead compartment.

“Thank you so much,” Y/n thanked him while moving into the row, placing her purse in her lap when she sat down. The man returned to his seat just as the next wave of passengers boarded.

Manny, her personal bodyguard who’d been with Y/n since her first tour, was seated in front of her. When they got the tickets he purposely told her to have them separated saying, “I need my beauty sleep and while I love you, you will talk the entire time.” Sure enough when Y/n leaned over to ask him a question Manny was already knocked out, buckled in with his eye mask over his eyes and earbuds in.

Well that left Y/n with little to do. And when she went to retrieve her Kindle she groaned at the realization she forgot to turn back her reading light.

“Everything okay?” She saw the man in her peripheral vision slightly turn his head.

“Yeah just…annoyed with myself. I thought I packed my reading light but I must’ve misplaced it.” God that made her sound like a grandma.

His response was an ‘ah’ sound. “Wish I could help ya there, but I’m not usually equipped with something like that.”

“It’s fine,” she chuckled, buckling in her seatbelt. “It was to pass the time—I can’t sleep on flights. Even though it's midnight and I should feel tired.”

“I’m the same,” he suddenly extended a hand, “I’m Bradley by the way.”

Hesitant to reply in case he were to react to her name, Y/n pushed back any concern and gave a warm smile as she took his hand, “I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you, Bradley.”

“Y/n…” her name was repeated slowly, Bradley’s eyes consorting as though they were deep in thought. A wave of dread and nerves coursed through her. Then Bradley grinned, “Oh! I thought you looked familiar. You sing that song—what was it, ‘Love Story?’ Sorry I don’t mean to sound weird,” he let go of her hand when he realized he was still shaking it. “And I don’t want to bother you. I just can’t help but go, ‘wow!’”

“No-no-no, it’s okay! You’re totally fine.” Before long the two fell into conversation following the typical pre-flight announcements. Y/n was amazed by how natural it felt talking to Bradley. She discovered he was a Naval aviator, coming home from an assignment overseas and was flying to L.A to visit some friends. Bradley had been a graduate of UVA and attended the elite Fighter Weapons School, marking ten years with the navy that year.

“Forgive me for admitting this,” he said after the first hour into the flight, lowering his voice when a passenger trying to sleep glared at them. “But while I know who you are…I’m not really familiar with your work. Y-yeah I mentioned your one song but that’s literally all I know,” he laughed nervously. “My taste in music, I’m embarrassed to say aloud, is very limited.”

Y/n tilts her head, “how limited?”

“Uh, I pretty much only listen to the 1950s all the way to the 80s. Dabbling in what’s popular nowadays once in a blue moon. My karaoke songs are all Jerry Lewis” Bradley gives a gentle smile, “And while I can easily do a Google search, I’d much rather hear it from you if you don’t mind telling me.”

What’s that saying again? Oh that’s right, ‘And the rest was history.’

No but literally Y/n could barely contain her attraction to Bradley after he said that to her. She hoped to God she didn’t look like a fool as she spoke of her career and cool places she’s been. Time flew as they talked. In fact the two were so caught up in their conversation they talked the remainder of the journey to L.A, ending with the exchange of phone numbers and the promise to meet up.

It was decided right from the get go that Bradley and Y/n wanted to keep their relationship hidden. Regardless if the one date went somewhere, the last thing Y/n wanted was to have Bradley in the public eye and cause complications with his job. And let’s not forget her album was releasing within the next year. So, there was going to be a lot of attention on her wherever she went.

“The fact we’ve managed to keep this quiet for a year is outstanding,” Y/n said through a mouthful of cake. Bradley had surprised her with her favorite kind, the icing on the top reading, ‘Happy Anniversary, baby—we’ve got them fooled.’

She couldn’t believe they were already marking one year. Time didn’t seem to exist when she was with Bradley. He was everything she envisioned in a partner. Caring, compassionate, funny, intuitive. Listened to her concerns and communicated. Never made her doubt herself or paid attention to the media.

When she brought up her reputation, or better yet the one the press painted her out to have, Bradley stopped her and said, “who you have history with is not my business—unless they did something to hurt you because then I’ll have a problem with them. And those people talking nonsense about you have nothing else better to do with themselves. I care about you, Y/n. The only one who has influence on how I see you, is you. And I see you as the most beautiful, hardworking, intelligent person who knows her worth. Fuck what they say.”

Yeah that night ended with her jumping his bones.

Bradley took a fork full of his own into his mouth, “I for sure thought they were gonna catch us the night I snuck you on base.” After their first meeting in L.A, Bradley had returned to Virginia while Y/n remained to work on her album. It was a couple months before she went home to Tennessee, then for the holidays they planned to meet up when Y/n was on her way to New York. Sneaking her on base involved the two going undercover where they met at a discreet location and having Y/n shove herself under blankets in his backseat.

The singer laughed at the memory, “Thank Goodness for Shania. Had she not posted that photo to ‘tip off’ the paps then we’d have a whole different outcome.” Bradley laughed with her, placing his fork down on the napkin.

“I’m sorry I can’t be there for your release day,” Bradley had been called back to Top Gun for a special detachment by the Navy. Unfortunately the timing was right when her sixth studio album would drop. The details were still unclear, but that it was a team mission where he would compete against his colleagues. Y/n had yet to meet any of Bradley’s friends and vice versa. The only people in her circle who knew of their relationship were her manager, Manny, and family. But when you signed up to keep your love life private, it meant friends were lost in the dark.

“It’s okay, Roo,” she told him. “We’ll have our own celebration.” Another cake, this time with the design being the album’s cover art on it, was brought over the day before Bradley was set to fly to San Diego and the two had their private release party with just the two of them. The music was blasting through the speakers, Y/n jumping up and down with Bradley who was singing at the top of his lungs.

“Band-aids don’t fix bullet holes! You say sorry just for show! If you live like that, you live with ghosts!”

“I’m in a getaway car. I left you in a motel bar. Put the money in a bag and I stole the key—that was the last time you ever saw me—Oh!”

“Ooh, look what you made me do! Look what you made me do! Look what you just made me do!”

Champagne was popped, kisses were shared, and they danced the entire night until it came time to sleep.

They FaceTimed whenever Bradley had free time, even if it was in the later hours of the night. Those three weeks Y/n felt her heart long for Bradley in a way it had never done with her previous partners. She felt his excitement, his distress. The day he left for the mission Y/n paced around her home for hours—unable to focus on anything and overcome with nausea. It was as though her mind was trying to tell her something was wrong.

Relief came at around nightfall, the singer tripping as she raced to grab her phone when it rang. Seeing Bradley’s picture pop up had the breath she was holding in release. “Oh thanks God,” was the first thing she said.

“I’m coming back to you,” was his response. Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes, hand going to her chest to calm the rapid beat of her heart.

“I would expect nothing less, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

Several celebrations were in store for the couple when Bradley returned to the east coast. Not only did he receive a medal from the Navy for his brave actions but got a promotion. Y/n’s album hit #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in the first hour of its release, prompting a record number of sales in a single night for the singer.

“I’m so proud of you, Bradley,” she praised, patting the new patch on his uniform indicating he was now a Lieutenant Commander. She was met with a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, baby. I’m proud of you too—you’re gonna win everything come awards season.”

During the 2020 Grammy’s, Bradley leaped from the couch in absolute joy when Y/n’s name was called for the winner of Pop Album of the Year and Record of The Year. She missed out on Album of the Year, but that was okay. She was now the owner of 12 Grammys in total. Coming home the following night Y/n’s home was decorated with balloons, a banner reading, ‘Congratulations!!’ and of course, a cake with an edible Grammy topper.

And so it came time for a break. Six albums in a fifteen-year long career, Y/n kept it under the wraps that she wouldn’t be putting out another album for some time. Fans had started to notice she was more uplifted and vibrant in interviews, posting things on social media that were suspicious. For example she uploaded a photo of red roses, captioning it “the symbol of love.” Then there was the screenshotting of well known love songs and posting them on her story.

@ Y/nstansince04: is it me or does @Y/nL/n86 appear happier than usual? Is she hiding something?

@ getawaycarlover_: @Y/nL/n86 totally has a man or someone in her life. That recent Instagram post had all the hints.

@ fearlessdefender: I bet it’s a normal guy she’s with and not a celebrity. If it was we’d probably would’ve known by now who it was.

@ Y/ns_red_lipstick: honestly if Y/n does have a boyfriend then I’m happy for her and wish them the best. She deserves to be happy and we should respect their privacy. She doesn’t have to share with the world if it’s their desire to keep it secret.

Right when the world went to chaos at the brink of a global pandemic, Y/n thought, “you know what, I’m gonna just delete my social media—not my accounts but the apps on my phone. I want to go off the grid for a bit and just enjoy my family and boyfriend.” Not having the constant shadow of social media on her back made it easier for the singer on the break she desired.

Everyday she fell more in love with Bradley. She had been visiting him when quarantine happened so they basically went to the next step in their relationship by living together. Again, it all felt natural. They settled into a domestic life with each other early on with homemade dinners, movie nights, nerf gun wars, and karaoke contests. Bradley on the piano and Y/n with her guitar, being each other’s act and audience in their private concert.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill. Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

“Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone. I’ll be waiting, all there’s left to do is run. You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess. It’s a love story, baby just say, ‘Yes!’”

Late nights were reserved for drives with the speakers blasting. Y/n camera roll would be filled with endless videos of the two, but mostly of Bradley jamming to his favorite songs. More often than usual the thought of, “I’m gonna marry this man,” would cross her mind.

“You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog. Cryin’ all the time. You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog. Cryin’ all the time. Well, you ain’t never caught a rabbit and you ain’t no friend of mine!”

Y/n would lean her body out the window when it was a clear road where they were the only ones, hair blowing and the light from the moon shining down on her. Her beautiful voice carried in the night sky, Bradley in absolute awe of her and wanting to capture the moment forever.

“I came home in the mornin’ light—my mother says, ‘when you gonna live your life right?’ Oh momma dear, we’re not the fortunate ones. And girls, they wanna have fun. Oh girls just wanna have fun!”

But was supposed to be maybe two years at most…..ended up being close to five.

Honestly Y/n was surprised to still have fans. To say they were shitting bricks when she out of the blue dropped a cover art for her upcoming single, ‘Love’ would be an understatement. They were losing their fucking minds.

@ Y/nwhereforartthou: IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING OH MY FUCKING SHIT! PLEASE TELL ME THIS AINT A JOKE Y/N IS COMING BACK AFTER FIVE FUCKING YEARS

@ stilladirectionerbby: *insert Micheal Scott gif* OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING—Y/N’S RELEASING NEW MUSIC

@ MTV: when all hope was lost, our prayers were answered….by @Y/nL/n86

Then she announced in the same week they were getting not one but two albums that year.

@ themadalorianswife: TWO ALBUMS?!?! WE GETTING TWO?!?! GOD FUCKING BLESS

@ daddyisastateofmind: oh mother is spoiling us after making us wait so long and I absolutely am here for it.

@ neveroutofstyle_: love how @Y/nL/n86 basically said “this is my sorry for falling off the face of the earth, please forgive me.” On behalf of the fandom, we forgive you queen.

And wanna know something else?

What was even more impressive than becoming a ghost for five years with little to no sightings by the paparazzi, was that she and Bradley had yet to be discovered. Her lover was just as good of a ghost as she was. Their secret was like trying to find the Holy Grail.

Hidden like a treasure the world desired to unearth.

And on their six year anniversary, Bradley got them the same cake as the first time he did. The icing reading, "Happy 7 years, baby—we’ve totally got them fooled.”

…………….

TGM Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry , @luckyladycreator2 , @americaarse , @elenavampire21 , @back-tooo-black , @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris

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naanima · 5 days ago

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Just a small snapshot of Daniel in Perth, doing what most people have been doing these past few days. Staying indoors where the aircon is, drinking booze and making social media life choices that they may or may not regret later.

Word Count: 619

Summer Days

Daniel didn't want to move from the spot on the wooden floorboards. It was perfect because he was lying right beneath that sweet spot where both the living and dining room aircon was blasting air right at him. He had one earbud in listening to some new artist that he hasn't decided if he likes yet. His phone was on his belly, and has been there since Daniel dropped it there after deleting a few posts off his account earlier. And the newly refilled (thanks ma) glass of the cold fruity beer, that Daniel had to get the name for, sat next to his waist.

He loved Perth, loved its slower pace of life, loved how it was a city of multitudes sprawled across such a large amount of flat dry arid land, loved how beneath its clean surface was filled with people who had a chip on their shoulder the size of the state because fuck the rest of Australia. He loved it, he loved it best in the autumn and spring, the months when you get the low 30s, and the sun is bright and the sky is blue with a few clouds rolling through.And if you were lucky a nice breeze helping along.

He didn't particularly love it when it was the height of summer, and Perth was having one of its many heatwaves. You could feel the UV burning your skin within seconds of being under the sun, the glare off the asphalt and every fucking available surface hurting your eyes. If you were lucky it was a dry heat, if your weren't the humidity was fucking repressive. And at the end of a second consecutive 40 degree day the air was sweltering, and it felt like nobody could breathe, and even standing up meant sweating down you ass crack.

He could have gone to the beach, but fuck, the thought of being surrounded by so many people at Scarborough was just a big fucking nah, and he didn't really want to make the two plus hour long drive to the more isolated beaches. So being indoors at his parents was the best option. It helped that everyone else was busy with stuff, and it was just him and his mum for most of the day. And bless her she had left him alone as she prepped for Christmas. Daniel offered to help, his mum had scoffed and told him to mind his own business.

So, that's what Daniel did. Minded his own business. He picked up his phone from the top of stomach, and started scrolling through his Instagram account. It was nearly lunch time, and he hadn't looked at it for awhile now, just chilling, listening to music, and talking shit with friends, and telling Max his Christmas present better be fucking amazing.

He had already deleted the posts that made him angry, mostly Red Bull related, and everything racing related post summer break. Got rid of some of the McLaren stuff that he should have deleted years ago, and then he decided to start getting rid of posts he just didn't like.

And wow younger Daniel was a bit of a whore with way too much fuckboi energy, and urgh, what a fucking asshole. He took a gulp of beer in between criticizing his young self for being lucky bastard. Didn't know that the world was gonna grind him down to dust, and chuck him into the shitter.

That fucker.

"Daniel, can you come and help me with the ham?" Grace shouted from the kitchen.

Daniel dropped his phone on the floor and shouted back, "Coming!"

Guess that pic of young Daniel he was contemplating deleting got to survive till later.

#dr3 fic #daniel ricciardo #my fic

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cosmicluci · 4 months ago

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So, if anyone sees this post, yes it’s awful that the Acolyte is cancelled. But here’s a couple things:

The cancellation wasn’t communicated officially. It was just some source that communicated with Deadline, from what I saw. There is at least for now nothing on official Disney or Star Wars accounts, or comments from Leslye or the cast

There is a hashtag going around Twitter (#RenewTheAcolyte) that’s been gaining traction. If enough people ask for it, it could work. It wouldn’t be the first time a cancelled show with queer characters got renewed after being cancelled. Even if it gets insufficient episodes (not that S1 had enough) like Owl House did, a chance to wrap up the story would be nice.

On that note…do tweet about it. We all know tumblr is nicer, but Twitter, as shit as it is, still gets more attention. Dust off unused accounts or make a new one if need be. The more people the better.

Yes, it’s a long shot, but all we can do is try, and make it clear that there is a devoted audience for this show. For now, as much as they’re very much emboldened and active, the hate mob no longer has a running show to complain about. This is an opportunity for people who like and love it to speak up.

#cosmicluci #text post #Star Wars #star wars the acolyte #the acolyte #acolyte #renew the acolyte #and as always fuck Disney for cancelling any minimally queer shows #none of this is appreciation of Disney. It’s love for a story and for the artists involved

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lilacfiresoul · 9 months ago

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forbid, april 4 -- @jegulus-microfic -- 1,393 words

thank you to @magswrite & @ninety-two-bees for the cat names for this one, was really struggling to think of some <3

second microfic posted today, only because i want to keep up with the dates for all of them lol and i genuinely am procrastinating uni work

----

So, Regulus can safely say that making a cake is harder than he thought.

It’s not like he’s not following the recipe—he is. He scoured the internet two days ago for a good Devil’s Food cake recipe, eventually finding one he could follow along well enough; he even stopped by the supermarket on his way home from work yesterday to get all the ingredients, writing a list and ticking items off he as went to make sure everything was accounted for.

He’s being thorough, meticulous.

But he’s never baked anything before, and, with rapidly dawning fear, he realises he’s greatly underestimated the skill that goes into it.

Dread, and the crippling desire to make this cake perfect for James, leads Regulus to run flour-dusted fingers through his hair as he squints at the recipe for the buttercream. The recipe tells him not to “over-whip”, but how is he supposed to know what that means? He’s just thankful that James, clearly the cook in this household, has all the equipment and devices needed to bake, so at least he’s got that.

By the hob, two halves of something that resembles a cake cool on a wire rack. They don’t look exactly like the picture, but hopefully it will still taste good. Hopefully.

To be honest, Regulus will be pissed if it doesn’t, as the kitchen is … Well. He glances away from the stand mixer mixing the buttercream ingredients together to stare at the evidence of what he’s been doing this afternoon.

Used bowls and utensils overflow in the sink. The majority of the countertops are clustered with baking ingredients: the bag of flour still open next to the cocoa powder; the egg box flipped open with two eggs missing. If Regulus were to run a finger over the surface, he’d probably find it dusted with a fine layer of flour too, as he learnt the hard way that one has to open a bag of flour slowly.

James usually keeps it spotless, and whilst he doesn’t forbid Regulus from cooking—actually he wholeheartedly encourages it, gazing dreamy-eyed as Regulus tries to focus on what he’s doing and not imagine having him for dessert instead—there’s the unspoken implication that the kitchen is James’ playground, whilst the study/library is Regulus’.

But he’ll clean it all up. He has still an hour and a half before James is due to get back home from work, which is plenty of time to figure out this icing problem, put the cake together, and for Regulus to clean up.

There’s a nervous feeling of anticipation in his stomach when he switches off the mixer, peering in at the icing. It looks good actually, and he breathes a sigh of relief. Okay, this might work.

Just then, one of their two cats, Leo, walks into the kitchen, followed by the other, Astraeus. James had named the former, a gorgeous white cat with one black spot at the base of his tail, and Regulus had named the latter, a Russian Blue with glowing yellow eyes that, when they were adopting cats, Regulus insisted he couldn’t leave behind.

“Hello, you two,” he says, picking up Astraeus and planting a kiss between the cat’s ears before setting her back down again. Leo, always craving being the centre of attention, hops up onto the counter.

Regulus is about to fuss him, too, when he hears the scrape of a key in the front door lock, indicating James is home. Panic flares in his chest, because Regulus is nowhere near done with this cake, and it’s going to spoil the surprise.

“Hi, love!” James calls out, the door closing behind him.

“Hey!” Regulus calls back, glancing around at the kitchen. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles under his breath.

At the sound of their other father’s voice, Leo scrabbles into action. In his haste, he knocks into the bag of flour, sending it flying onto the floor—

And exploding everywhere with a loud thud.

“What the hell?” James exclaims from the hallway. “Reggie? Are you okay?”

Spooked, and probably scared of the consequences of his actions, Leo flees, knocking over—it really can’t get any worse, can it?—the box of eggs as he does so. Astraeus, pinning her ears to her head, follows instantly.

And Regulus? Heart literally jumping into his mouth, he manages to catch the eggs in time, only one of them cracking in its cardboard container. Putting them safely back on the counter, he sighs and rests his forehead on the cool surface, taking a deep breath in before answering, “Yeah. I’m okay,” and then turning around to assess the damage.

The bag of flour has well and truly split everywhere, sending white fireworks all over the floor and up the sides of the cupboards. It genuinely looks like a small flurry of fine, powdery snow has blown into the kitchen, as if every single piece of flour has expelled itself from the bag.

James darts around the kitchen doorframe, concern and worry written into the lines of his face, mouth open to ask if Regulus is okay again, when he freezes at the state of the kitchen.

For a second, he doesn’t say anything. Regulus can feel his heart thundering beneath his chest, loud like a drumbeat. Fuck, he’s in so much trouble. He watches James’ eyes flick from the flour-y explosion on the floor, to the cake cooling on the side, to the unwashed pans in the sink, and then back to Regulus.

Guilt floods through him. He should’ve just gotten a store-bought cake instead. He needn’t have gone to all this trouble, all this hassle, spent all that money, wasted all this time, because now their kitchen is an absolute mess, and they’re going to have to spend James’ birthday cleaning it up.

He almost expects a reprimand when James opens his mouth again, prepares himself for it, his body tensing, eyes narrowing, bracing himself for the reprimand to come—

He does not expect James to burst out laughing.

“Oh my God, Reg,” James wheezes, pressing a hand to his mouth. “You— there’s flour all over you …”

Looking down at himself, Regulus groans to find that it’s gotten on him too, though thank God he’s wearing an apron. “Jesus.”

Still laughing, James crosses over, cupping Regulus’ face in his hands. “I’m not talking about the apron, love. It’s,” he gets out between laughs, “it’s on your face. In your hair. What— What have you been doing?”

Fighting a smile, Regulus lets James brush flour from his cheeks and get it out of his hair, and then jerks his face away. “I was trying to make you a cake for your birthday, but, uh. I guess it took a turn. Leo got excited to see you. And you’re home early.”

“They let me go early,” James explains.

“Oh,” Regulus says. And then, because he has to ask, “You’re— not mad?”

“Mad?” James echoes, confused. “Reg, this— is hilarious. I’m flattered, and so, so happy that you went to all this effort for me. You didn’t have to do that.”

“But it’s your birthday. Happy birthday,” Regulus says, as if he didn’t whisper it into James’ ear this morning. The relief that James isn’t mad at him makes his knees buckle.

“Thank you, my beloved,” James tells him, turning to the cake on the side. “Is this chocolate cake?”

Regulus nods. “Devil’s Food cake to be precise. I looked up a recipe. I don’t know if it’s any good, but …”

The smile on James’ face could light up Regulus’ night. He steps over to the icing bowl. “This the icing?” and before Regulus can reply, he dips his finger in and licks it off. Regulus’ eyes widen.

“This is good, Reg. Like, really good. You know, you could actually be a good baker.”

“You think so?”

James comes back over to his side, this time cornering Regulus against the counter, one that is, thankfully, empty. “Definitely.”

It’s a long while before they clean up the flour on the floor.

#frost's microfics #no because this is actually adorable #the cats are important characters actually #jegulus fic #jegulus microfic #regulus arcturus black #james fleamont potter #james x regulus #james potter x regulus black #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus

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fanofstuff01 · 8 months ago

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Ii… Know I said I’ll post the next chapter of Adamsapple x Chaggie yesterday but I remembered one idea I had and worked on it. I’m sorry :< I’ll post it I promise.

The thing I worked on on the other hand… It’s an one shot inspired from this ask on @rius-cave ‘s account (read it from here) where an anon suggested the idea of Lucifer and Adam fighting so bad that Adam ends up in Angel’s room crying.

Enjoy! (Also would you mind if I tagged you @things-arent-what-they-seem66 and @talesfromawannabejournalist ?)

Angel was getting ready to sleep when he heard a slight knock on his door, like the person behind it was doubting their decision to come here.

“I don’t know who you are but you better have a good fucking reason to be here this late.” He said to the door.

“Angel? Can I come in?” Someone spoke with a shaky voice.

Adam.

He opened the door, only to be met with a devastated sight of his friend. He looked like someone stole something from him. Heck, he must’ve been seriously off, he wasn’t even hiding his third eye on his forehead.

“Woah, what happened big guy?”

I was wondering if I could stay here tonight.?”

“Sure, but why?” Angel said, letting him in.

“Lucifer can’t come here unless you allow him to right?” He leaned against a wall, taking his head in his hands.

“Yeah, I guess..” So he did something…

“Let’s get you a beanbag..” He muttered to himself, walked to his closet but stopped when he heard a sob coming behind him.

The sinner, curled up in a ball with his wings wrapped around him, was crying silently. He sat down beside him quickly and began rubbing circles to his back.

“Hey… It’s okay. You don’t have to hide yourself. Let it out.”

“I-I can’t cry..” He was shaking. Fucking shaking.

“What?! Of course you can, everyone can!”

“Not me! I’m the man, not the pussy!” His wings revealed him, he was trying desperately to end the tears with wiping them violently. “I can’t let feelings-“

“Hey.” He held his wrists and hugged him. “I told you to let it out.”

That did it. He didn’t care anymore. He cried loudly to his chest. His tears were colder than anyone could ever have.

They stayed in the same position for a while, Angel awkwardly patting his back as he thought of what to do. Sure, he could try to comfort him, but it’d probably make him feel worse. Maybe this’d be enough for the sinner?

Who the fuck was he kidding? He needed someone to do it properly. And he knew just who it was. He whistled quietly, and took his pet in his hands. Adam let go of the hug and looked at who came.

“As much as I’d like to make you feel better, I suck at it Ad. But, I have someone else. Would you like to hug Nuggets?” He held him to Adam, and the upset demon took him. He licked his face softly, getting a chuckle and a hiccup from him. He hugged him tightly. He seemed a bit calmer but there were still lots of tears coming out of his eyes. Angel put a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened, but if you want to, I’m here.”

———

Lucifer walked down at the hallway, going to Angel Dust’s room. He was looking for a certain demon, and Charlie suggested he should go and check Angel Dust’s room. The spider and him had some sort of a friendship after all.

He needed to apologize. No, more than apologize, he probably needed to get him his favorite meal, take him to a rock concert and shit like that. He could do those later, but first he needed to see if he was okay and talk the things he said out.

There he was, standing at the doorstep. He knocked it softly, hoping he wasn’t waking the pornstar up.

A tired Angel opened the door, but his attitude completely changed when he saw the King of Hell. He was looking at him with ice-cold eyes, and they also held a little bit… Anger?

“What can I do for you Your Highness?” He said simply, wanting the King to go away. Adam didn’t need him at this moment.

“Uhh, Is Adam here?” He said, trying to look inside the room. But Angel just spawned two extra arms to block the view, standing infront of the short guy.

“Yes he is. But he is sleeping. I suggest you to come at the morning. It’s the middle of the night right now.”

“I see, but can I please at least see hi-“

“No. No you can’t.”

“But you just told me he was-?”

“Yes, he is. He fell asleep while crying because of you. And I doubt that he wants the person, who made him pour his fucking heart to me, near him even if he is sleeping. So why don't you just leave him alone, like everyone else did. After all,” He placed his finger on Lucifer’s chest, near his heart. That's what he deserves, right Your Highness?”

“Come on Angel, I didn’t mean it! I wasn’t thinking when I-”

“That’s always what they say.” He hmphed. “If you seriously want the better of him, then go the fuck away. And come back, when you see him more than a toy or a pet you can play around and threw away when you get bored. Good night, Lucifer.” He shut the door in his face.

Lucifer backed away, looking at the door shocked.

Adam, who hated crying and showing ‘girly’ emotions, poured his heart out to another demon, because of what he said?

This wasn’t right. Right, they were having an argument, and sure, maybe it got a little out of hand, but… But it couldn’t hurt Adam that much.

Right?

—

Angel leaned against the door. God, he wasn’t going to deny he was quite surprised how he could find the courage to do this, but he knew Lucifer wouldn’t dare hurt Charlie’s clients.

Well, he is the wrong one after all. He peeked at his bed, where the demon he wanted to see was. Fat Nuggets was lying and probably sleeping near him, like he wanted to be there just in case he’d wake up crying again. Sometimes Angel could swore he was a literal angel.

He groaned, he needed a few things or atleast a glass of water, but he also didn’t wanted to leave Adam alone.

It’ll be quick. Just five minutes. He got up and opened the door, checking for Lucifer. When he couldn’t see him, he rushed to the kitchen.

Lucifer waited for him to dissapear from the curtain he was hiding in, and sneaked to his room. He hoped the magic wouldn’t work since Angel wasn’t in his room.

It didn’t.

Oh but how much Lucifer would want it to do.

Adam was there, in Angel’s bed, sleeping with the pig-pet near him. Looking horrible. His cheeks were puffy red, and still wet. His hair was messed up, his other eye wasn’t hidden like it mostly was, one of his horns looked like it had a missing piece, and so many few more details formed the broken man infront of him. But worst of all, even though he was sleeping, he looked more like he just passed out.

He was hurt.

He was hurt because of him.

He did this.

He absentmindedly tried to placed a hand on his, but his hand stopped when he heard someone behind.

“Ahem. I believe I told you to, GO. THE. FUCK. AWAY.” Angel Dust whisper-yelled, as Lucifer refused to let go of Adam’s side.

“I can’t leave him like thi-“

“Oh but you said you should, right? THEN DO IT! I am not allowing you here!”

The king felt the command grip his throat. He walked out of the room and stood at the entrance. The sinner was now straight up angry, and he didn’t seemed to care Lucifer was superior to him.

“Angel, I-” He faced a door again, the spider didn’t even had something to say to him.

He sat down at the entrance. If he had to wait for the morning then he’d do it.

He needed to clean up his own mess.

————

This was supposed to be a little one shot help-

Should I make a sequel?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin angel dust #holydust #guitarduck #adamsapple

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