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#some of the comments are horrid
doingdathockey · 11 months
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ughhh they have been so many nasty responses to the engagement. clinging to the energy of people commenting with their dream ships
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fruit-kick · 2 months
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ngl i hate it when u bring up how fucked up the show and fandom treats jermy and ppl respond w/ "he makes out w/ his dog" like idk how to tell you that jermy is not A Real Guy who made out w/ his dog the same way Dolph was not a kid who happened to look like hitler.
like both of those things are deliberate choices made by the writers to justify shitty, bigoted choices in the story and i need all of you to stop falling for it when people bring up the fact that it was fucked up.
also, other hot take that i think should be cold: people doing fucked up things does not justify bigotry. if the writers put in a trans caricature, misgendered them every step of the way, and then threw in a "they kiss dogs" ya'll would know thats bullshit. (or at least i hope you do) so put in the same fucking energy.
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maybe-drawing · 1 year
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Boatem, where the mountains meet the sea
Inspired by @atherix​ Midnight Series
-- Click for better quality! --
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the-king-of-lemons · 1 year
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qsmp doodle design ref sheet i made for myself :)
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pacmanthepeach · 2 months
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Just watched the trailer for the borderlands movie. In related news. killing myself
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hajihiko · 1 year
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a little late but i love that literally all the family on the ship chart is around fuyuhiko. you're so right for that
Listen. Look. Look and listen.
I have always been very blatantly playing favourites I am so obsessively focused in a certain direction I'm not playing fair at all and everyone knows it
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boysnberriespie · 1 year
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Absolutely obsessed with the way people will be misogynistic in the same breath that they use to say “stop being misogynistic.”
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steinbecks · 1 year
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i turned a corner in a museum in rome and marcel duchamp's fountain was there and it was wildly interesting bc it was just an "authorized replica" of the original and it's like why make an "authorized replica" of the original if picking up an abandoned toilet off the street near a construction site would accomplish the same and in fact highlight the artist's original intent? loved it. filled me with glee. baffling.
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mawofthemagnetar · 8 months
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Alright, for those not up to date on Iskall's vods, here's the deal. He's been dealing with something truly horrid since his last youtube upload, something he does not want to talk about.
However, he's planning on making a return to uploading videos soonish. No specific dates. Just soon.
When Iskall does return- whenever that might be- we should try to come out in force for him. Remember when Mumbo took some time off? When Jevin mentioned he was feeling crummy? When Wels and Joe said they needed some help?
Same deal. When Iskall comes back, let's get into that comments section and make some positive noise!
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evilminji · 7 months
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Oh... my god? Ghost Reporters.
Imagine it. Their office is in the Zone. They literally FEED of hunting for The Next Big Scoop! And Revealing The Truth! Every honest reporter that got silenced for getting a little too close to the facts. The bloody, beating, heart of societies underbelly.
Every Lois Lane that had no Kryptonian to stop some rich and powerful jackals putting them in the ground.
Well Death sure didn't stop THEM! They STILL want answers! But now they have co-wokers. Oh~ and SUPERPOWERS! And best part?
The newly appointed KING is going too and from the living world. That must mean it's okay now, RIGHT? Your majesty? You're not a RAGING HYPOCRITE, aaaaare you? :) 🎤
And... look. Danny knows full well what these piranhas are up too. He's not stupid. But Madeline Fenton raised a lot of things. Fool? Not one of um. That a LOT of reporters with sharp, sharp teeth and bloodlust in their eyes. He wants to half-live.
He compromises. Illusion of control and all that. Yeah, yeah, they all tooootally respect his authority etc. Give them Them Scoop! He, wisely, gets the fuck out of the way. Whoosh! Off they go!
Thats.... probably gonna be a problem. *siiiiiips his morning coffee* But it's not HIS problem. Not right now.
And? Suddenly all these politicians and business leaders are getting fucking AMBUSHED. Oh? You thought you'd get soft ball "aren't I a man of the people. Buy oil!" Bullshit questions? HA! Where were you on June 27th, 1978, at-
And "according to YOUR words, exact quote as follows-"
Just? They BEAT the leader with the STICK. "Oh but you'll lose access". They'd love to see HOW! They can go through WALLS! Answer the question, coward. "Your gonna make powerful enemies!" Oh nooooo, what are they gonna DO?
Shoot us TWICE?
Hey Mr. Family Values! How's the three mistresses your wife doesn't know about?? "No comment"? That's fine. We already have THEIRS. >:D Good luck with your upcoming election!
And like? As newspapers are shutting down and turning clickbait all across the country? This ONE(1) tiny, middle of nowhere town? Somehow has a horrid, horrid, ARMY of Satan's own Reporters. All apparently willing to die for the News. Throwing themselves at dictators and Supervillians alike.
"We see no God here but the Truth" is literally their papers MOTTO.
The damn thing is basicly a BRICK. You get a paperback of news. Entire planet AND THEN SOME. How?! How are they reporting, IN DETAIL, on the break down of talks between two planets 16 galaxies over? Hal says it's accurate. But what Earth paper would even HAVE that information?
And?? The whole town treats this as normal? There are human children, complaining about the weight of papers, because it makes their paper routes a pain in the ass. Soccer moms discussing alien celebrity drama. Farmers muttering over foreign unrest and how it will impact their corn harvest.
Fucking Lex Luthor, clearly deciding to roll with it, coming to sign himself up for a paper. Gaining a new life long Nemesis upon meeting Vladimir Master, whom he decides is both hot and unbearable. Someone is heard shouting "oh god, there's TWO OF THEM!"
And?? Look. Clark isn't MAD. Or JEALOUS. Nor is he in a secret Reporting War with Jerry from the Amity Chronicle. Because that would be petty and childish. He's just SAYING, maybe they should check the place out!
Maybe Jerry is a DICK and deserves it, is all. (Lois stop laughing.)
@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight
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ageofstarkey · 8 months
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Hi! Could you write a Mattheo one, where it’s that time of the month, and you’re just really not feeling like facing the world.
poor thing ✰ m. riddle
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summary: you’re on your period, and matthéo’s there to help you feel less awful.
pairing: bf!matthéo x reader
warnings: reader is implied to be afab, mentions of reader having their period, discussion of period-related symptoms, nothing else really???
note: hello!! thank you so much for the request!! i’m still trying to find my groove with writing, but i hope i did your prompt some justice :’) also pretend that boys can in fact enter the girls dorms in this universe lmfao
masterlist
comments & reblogs are so appreciated!
✰ ✰ ✰
“aren’t you getting up for potions?”
when you roll over, you see pansy watching you from the doorway. she’s dressed and ready for the day - book bag slung carefully across her body. she studies you with something akin to concern; awaiting your response with perfect, furrowed brows.
with a quiet sigh, you push yourself into a half-sitting position. “i don’t think so. i got my period last night and i feel absolutely horrid.”
“want me to tell riddle? i’m sure he’s looking for an excuse to skip anyway”
you roll your eyes fondly. “he’s already missed too many lessons this year - let him figure it out on his own time, yeah?”
pansy shrugs. “fine. hope you feel better.”
you groan, flopping none-too-gracefully back on your pillow. “me too.”
when pansy leaves, you take a few moments to savour the silence. it does little to ease the uncomfortable ache in your abdomen, but it’s quiet enough that you can almost pretend your head hasn’t been throbbing since the second you opened your eyes.
eventually, you snuggle back under your thick quilt, resigned to sleeping away your misery. it doesn’t take long for your fatigue to take over, pushing you steadily towards the edge of unconsciousness.
you’re nearly asleep, when you hear a sharp knock at the dormitory door. your brows tug downwards in confusion. with a quiet groan, you drag yourself out of bed. the floors are shockingly cold against your bare feet, and you curse quietly under your breath as you approach the door.
when you tug it open, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriends handsome face. although he should be in class, you can hardly fight the grin that tugs at your lips. “you are not supposed to be here.”
matthéo quirks an eyebrow, sporting a smirk you know all too well. “shall i see myself out then?”
you roll your eyes fondly. “no.”
“didn’t think so.” he lets himself in, kicking the door shut behind him. “do you wanna lay down?”
“merlin - more than anything.”
he tugs you gently towards him, pressing his lips against your forehead in a chaste kiss. “i figured as much.” he murmurs the words against your skin, punctuating them with another kiss. when he pulls away, he nudges you gently towards the bed. “how are you feeling?”
“awful.”
“cramps?” he shrugs off a few layers of clothing, before tugging back your quilt and laying on the bed.
with a gentle little tug, you’re falling into the empty space beside him. “my entire body just… aches.” with a defeated sigh, you drop your head on his chest.
matthéo hums softly, stroking a gentle hand up and down the length of your spine. “poor thing.”
“tell me about it.”
with a quiet little laugh, he tilts your head up towards his own. “do you think you’ll survive?”
“i really might not, théo. this might be it for me.”
matthéo rolls his eyes, but he wears a fond little smile that gives him away. “you’re ridiculous.”
“i am not!” your lips turn downwards in an involuntary pout. “it hurts.”
“i know, sweetheart.” he closes the small gap between you, kissing away your feeble little frown. “why don’t you try and get some rest, hm?”
“you’ll stay?”
he kisses you again - longer this time, and you swear you’re feeling better already. “‘m not going anywhere.”
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sebsbarnes · 5 months
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co-workers || tangerine
tangerine x female reader (assassin)
summary: "if it took you getting shot for you two to finally, maybe, realize you like each other i would've used you as target practice a long time ago."
warnings: language, violence, fighting, injuries, blood, weapons
word count: 3.4k ; angst, fluff
tangerine masterlist
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rocking back and forth on your heels you patiently wait for the bullet train to zip into the shinagawa station. the platform was moderately busy, people dressed for various occasions. some in sophisticated work uniforms, kids bopping along with their school bags, and some dressed for a night out. you, however, were not.
sporting a black jacket, long sleeve turtleneck, leggings, sneakers, and a black bag you could've faded into the growing dark sky but here you are illuminated by the neon lights of the platform begrudgingly watching the bullet train's head lights fly past as it rolled into the station.
you were ordered to be here by your employer at the request of the white death. something about his son and a briefcase of money that needed some extra eyes watching over. apparently, the white death had some gut intuition about the two unnamed men he had hired for the job and wanted your skills onboard. your employer gave you very little detail about what to expect, no description of the briefcase, a grainy photo sent via email of the white death's son who had horrid face tattoos in your personal opinion, and when asked about the men already tasked to the mission your employer replied, 'eh two guys both kind of weird' and left it at that.
you boarded the train and stood near the doors, tight lipped smiling at those who walked by, waiting for the entryway to be clear. kneeling you pulled a small revolver out of a false bottom in the bag and slipped it into an inside pocket of your jacket, next pulling extra rounds and stuffing them into the other available pocket. you fumbled with a small piece of crumbled paper telling you to go to car three and a seat number that the son should be at.
quietly making your way to car three you re-patted your now stuffed pockets, adjusting your jacket and hair to relieve any sort of budding nerves. that is until you noticed the two kind of weird guys your employer told you about.
"well, can spot that fitted suit from a fuckin' city away" the two men stood in front of you who were deep in conversation snapped their necks towards you.
"well darling, and i'd spot that shit box dyed hair from the other side of the fuckin' earth" you couldn't help your arm raising to touch your long, and well dyed hair, at tangerine's rebuttal.
you tried to hide the laugh that threatened to break through as the three of you stood quiet for a few seconds following his comment. lemon broke first pushing past his brother to embrace you in a hug, "haven't see you in a minute, was beginning to get worried."
the three of you knew each other quite well, hell, the three of you lived together for a while. you had been under tangerine and lemon's employer for a long time but shit happens and it was best you found a new employer. lemon was more talkative and affectionate of the two, constantly talking your ear off and giving you hugs whenever he saw you, strictly friends though. tangerine, well, not affectionate and not talkative. it took a while for tangerine to mutter more than five words to you for the longest time. being outright friendly just isn't his nature and you can't fault him for that. the twins cared about you deeply, you knew lemon did within a week. tangerine took more time. it wasn't at the flip of a switch, it was gradual, perhaps may be even more natural.
it was a culmination of things that made you realize the rough man cared and appreciated you. like how after a job the three of you would go eat, you would jokingly (but also quite seriously) say how you were still starving. tangerine would slip you some of his food, 'not that hungry' he'd shrug. or how on missions he unconsciously used himself as a shield for your protection. or when he would come back from being out, holding a plastic bag in hand. 'saw these figured you might need 'em' plopping the bag in front of your seated position at the kitchen table and continued walking before you could comment on the new clothes that replaced the ones recently destroyed on a job.
or how days before you left the previous employer, you, tangerine, lemon, and an additional guy were assigned to a job that did not go so smoothly. it really was no one's fault, no one could've predicted how many men were hiding in the warehouse. each of you sported numerous injuries and lost many weapons but still completed the job. you and the other assassin were alone sitting on the floor when he suddenly started berating you. saying how shit you were as an assassin, spewing hatred and profanities amongst other vile things. you had no energy to fight back, 'maybe you're right' is all you could muster before getting up and searching for a secluded place to sleep for the night. you had awoken from your sleep hours later to the sound of a gunshot, wandering until you found someone.
'tangerine, what was that? i heard a gunshot' you asked the man who was promptly walking away from scaffolding towers.
he looked at you quizzically wiping his hands on his trousers, 'i think you might have been dreaming darlin'' all you could do was rub your head in confusion, 'let's get you back to bed, love.' the next morning only three of you returned from the mission.
"i've missed you, lemon," you smiled pulling away, holding his shoulders to look at him.
you and tangerine exchanged small nods, a hint of a smile ghosting his lips. you turned towards the figure seated beside the men stepping to stand in front of who you assume to be the white death's son. to say something seemed off was an understatement. you gently grabbed the ends of his open jacket bobbing his head back.
"what the fuck?!" you jerked back dropping your grip as his body slumped forward. an older woman a few seats up shushed you.
"what the fuck?!" you whispered harshly at the twins, bug-eyed gesturing rapidly at the dead body in front of you.
"ask fuckin' percy over here," tangerine pointed to lemon.
"i'm not percy?! okay yeah i lost the case but i didn't kill the kid."
"well lemon, if you didn't have the brilliant fucking idea to stash the case, we would've been sat our squeaky fuckin' asses down in the seat not havin' to get up. young. sweet. not all there." tangerine hissed back, poking at lemon's forehead to emphasize.
mildly entertained by the twins infamous banter you sat down watching the two go back and forth before tangerine swiveled towards you both hands flat, palms up, pointing at you, "and no disrespect love, but why the hell are you here?"
"to babysit essentially. i'm here to make sure you two do your job and by the looks of it you done fucked that up. what an honor it will be to be ripped limb by limb by the white death with you idiots."
the three of you sat deliberating what the hell to do next and tried figuring out who else is on this train taking interest in the briefcase and the son. tangerine cleaned up the boy's face with his handkerchief and adorned his face with momonga glasses to hide the fact that he's well...dead.
the twins decided it would be effective splitting up and checking the train cars for the briefcase.
"ill stay here," you spoke as the two men grabbed their things to investigate the train.
"what?" tangerine asked eyebrows knotting together.
"i'll stay here. i'll see if anyone comes back for him," gesturing towards the limp body, "besides, my mission is a bit different. i'm not supposed to be seeking danger. if it comes my way then i can step in."
tangerine smooth out his moustache inhaling deeply seeming to oppose you being here by yourself.
"okay well, right then." lemon nodded stalking off down the train.
tangerine hesitated looking down at you in the seat.
"i'll be okay."
that is until ten minutes later a man sat across from you, "hi. there's a gun under this table."
"shhh," you hissed, "this is the quiet car babes."
the man in the hat and glasses took a moment to look over your shoulder at the sign, you took this opportunity to grab his hand, that held no gun, underneath the table yanking his body forward, table smashing into his shoulder.
"who the hell are you." you questioned, still holding onto his hand.
"ladybug. johannesburg, remember? your buddy shot me after you baited me to the parking garage?"
"so you're after the twins?" you asked ignoring what he said.
"the twins have a briefcase i need. i'm really not looking for trouble here miss, i just want to get the hell off this train and go meditate." he sighed taking his free hand through his longer hair.
"so you took the damn briefcase." you released his hand and brought your foot up to kick him in the groin. while he was hunched over in pain you stood up launching towards him to put him in a headlock, "where's the case."
"look lady," he sputtered, "i really don't want to hurt you."
ladybug punched your forearms to loosen your grip and when you didn't budge, he turned his head to bite your wrist.
"what the fuck!" you yelped springing back. he took this moment to sweep your legs out from underneath you. you hit the floor with a loud thud, the ache in your shoulder radiating down your arm. he leaned over your body giving you a weak smile and in return you kicked him in the face, blood instantly pouring out of his nose.
"shit balls!" he exclaimed. you clamored to your feet and started running throughout the bullet train. ladybug's steps got closer and closer and that's when you felt a burning hot sensation on the back of your shoulder. your movement immediately stopped, groaning as you reached for the knife in your back pulling it out.
"prick." you hissed turning around to face the man. your arm swiped in front of his face, the blade making a whooshing noise in the air. you managed to clip the side of his cheek.
thankfully the car the two of you were now fighting in was not occupied. he gripped your arm throwing you against the wall and stalked towards you. you stashed the blade in your pocket, shrugging your jacket to the ground, opting to fight him with your fists. you dodged the first hit and returned him a hit in the jaw. he staggered and taking advantage of his lower stance punched you in the stomach.
"i don't like hurting women." ladybug exasperated as the two of you continued fighting, punches being thrown, skin being split, bodies flying across the car.
"seems like you're in the wrong line of work, dumbass," you gripped the back of his head slamming his face into the top of one of the seats. the crack you heard made you wince. ladybug's forehead was split, blood running down his face into his eye.
it was obvious his physical state was weakening. he swallowed deeply, eyes flickering to a spot beyond you. before you realized what was happening, ladybug was running towards your jacket where the knife was. he managed to grab it and came barreling towards you. once again the battle was back on. the knife dancing between you two as its ownership changed frequently. you and ladybug were a panting mess with new cuts decorating your bodies. this old piece of shit wouldn't let up. you were becoming exhausted and you needed this to end somehow. the two of you were both on the floor, the blade in your hand. you knew you didn't have enough stamina for another round of fighting, the cuts scattering your body were aching, the large stab wound to your shoulder was now numb. instead, you sliced the closest things to you that would cause the most damage.
his achilles.
ladybug screamed out in pain, shaking hands wrapping themselves around his ankles in some attempt to soothe the sheering pain. you stood, looking over the man, the blood from the knife dripping onto your shoe. you stepped around his cradled body, making your way up the train. tangerine hasn't come past yet meaning he is still ahead. the door swished open but you'd only make it one step in before crumbling to the ground.
immediately you started hyperventilating from the intense pain that seemed to hit every nerve in your body. blinking rapidly as you scooted yourself against the wall. then you felt it. a warm sensation running down your skin, your clothes feeling wet. blood. your body was shaking, open lips huffed out puffs of breath. slowly and carefully, you looked back at ladybug.
your gun in his hands.
he must have grabbed it when he retrieved the knife in your abandoned jacket. fucking stupid.
ahead in the train tangerine heard a faint noise, but nonetheless he knew it was a gunshot. he slicked back his hair and removed his gun from his waistband. he carefully entered each train car, observing anything out of the ordinary. the door in front of him opened and his step faltered when he saw a black sneaker, and then a leg, and then the body as his eyes raked up the slumped figure.
he dropped to his knees, gun now on the floor, "hey tan," you croaked.
"bloody hell," he sighed, his eyes darting across your entire body.
"stop checking me out i don't look my best," you tried joking. tangerine didn't seem amused as he noticed your torn clothes, bloody face, your hair matted with blood.
"that old bag of bones can really fight. but he took a cheap shot when my back was to him," you finally answered. you lifted the hem of your shirt to show tangerine the bullet hole in your lower stomach above your hip.
"jesus," he muttered swallowing thickly. he seemed stunned to see you in this condition. he also seemed lost on what to do. his eyes wouldn't stop looking you over, his hands unconsciously went to your face brushing your hair out of your eyes.
"tangerine stop fucking staring at her we need to help her," lemon had found the two of you. his voice booming causing tangerine to snap out of his daze.
lemon pushed him to the side, immediately coming to your aid. he worked with what he could find. your shallow cuts weren't important. the wound to your shoulder would need stitches later on. the entrance and exit wound of the bullet was causing the biggest issue as you had lost a decent amount of blood from it. lemon continued to do his best as you sat there eyelids half open.
tangerine was silent, more silent than ever before, as if he were stuck in a trance. you slowly moved your fingers towards his hand that was resting on the floor. two of your fingers wrapped around his pinky jerking him out of his trance. this somehow sparked something in him as he shot up from the floor, grabbing his gun making sure it was loaded and set off on a mission you could only assume to be to find ladybug.
your lips pulled down in a frown as he left. you wanted him here. his presence, his touch, his whatever. any semblance of that cocky man you wanted next to you for comfort. you knew you were going to be okay, you were weak right now but the thought of him beside you somehow made you believe you would feel stronger.
lemon let out a soft chuckle as he finished securing cloth to your wound, "if it took you getting shot for you two to finally, maybe, realize you like each other i would've used you as target practice a long time ago."
you slapped his arm, "fuck off."
lemon and you agreed you need to rest, he helped you to sit in an empty seat, propping you against the window.
"alright, now, if anything serious happens i will text you alright. in the meantime, sit here and wait till we come get you, you hear me?" lemon demanded.
sometime had passed and you noticed less and less people on the platforms boarding the train. it was too quiet. your stomach was telling you something was off. you winced in pain as you gripped the armrest to stand up. a bit wobbly but you managed to put one foot in front of the other. as you continued you heard voices close by. the doors to one of the cars was open by bags tripping the sensors. you saw a young girl in pink standing looking scared and him. the greasy haired prick who shot you. he still had your gun in his hand pointed at someone.
tangerine.
"fuck." thankfully you held onto the knife and before he could notice you moving towards their train car you brought your arm over your head, swinging forward, releasing the knife. it lodged itself below ladybug's collarbone. he yelped out in pain stumbling a bit and that's when his finger hit the trigger.
"you bastard," tangerine hissed as the bullet hit his leg.
you took this opportunity while the men were distracted and ran towards ladybug. you propelled yourself onto him, spinning and wrapping your legs around his neck, you removed the blade from his chest and stuck it in the base of his neck.
"you don't touch him," you spit at the man as he crumbled to the ground.
the girl was long gone. now facing tangerine you noticed all the bruises and blood on him, drenched in sweat. his curly hair now laying across his forehead. his jacket long gone leaving him in a white button down that was criminally low on his chest and a vest. you couldn't help but check him out.
he started to say your name but you cut him off, hugging him tightly around his neck, knocking the wind out of him. he hesitated a moment before firming wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his head into your hair. after a few minutes he pulled back, sliding his hands to your waist to look at you. you held onto tangerine's elbows as his eyes wandered your face.
"darlin'," he started, "i'm- i'm sorry i didn't do anything when i found ya."
you chuckled through your nose, "tan. i'm fine."
"you're injured n' i didn't do anything except fuckin' look at you." he shook his head in disgust.
"tangerine," you said firmly placing your hands on his chest, "stop. i am fine. i am okay. we all react differently to seeing our friends hurt."
"friends, " he half laughed, "you realize i don't see you as a friend."
you paused, hands loosening their grip on his arms. god, you were dumb to think you were even friends. you're coworkers, hell at this point maybe even acquaintances, its been five months since you lived with them. all you could mutter was a shaky 'oh.'
tangerine laughed, "you know love, you can really be dense sometimes."
your mouth formed an 'o' trying to figure out what to say next, "dense?"
"love, i've wanted you the moment you almost sniped my head off in vienna." tangerine chuckled, moving hair out of your face. you couldn't look at him instead you toyed with his open shirt, fingers brushing against his hot skin.
"i guess i am kinda dumb right? should've put the pieces together when you killed anyone who was mean to me." you smiled.
he leaned down gently placing a kiss on your lips. you immediately kissed back, tasting the metallic flavor of the blood that was on his lower lip. your nails ran across his scalp sending a shiver down his spine. tangerine gripped your lower back harder, minding the wound, to bring you in as close as physically possible.
tangerine pulled away from the kiss, bringing his mouth to your ear, "by the way darlin', you spinning around on his neck and what you said was really hot."
"then i suggest we get the fuck off this train soon and i'll show you the move personally."
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scoutswritingcorner · 1 month
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Despite Everything
Alastor x GN! Reader
A/n: I’ve been seeing too many angst prompts on tiktok- ANYWAYS I WORKED ON THIS BETWEEN REQUESTS SO ENJOY
TW: Angst, Flashback to when you were alive, drinking, talk of murder, secret marriage.
Part 2: It's Still You
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Alastor sent a glare towards Mimzy as she sat at the bar. Why was she telling all his dirty secrets but what made him let out a growl was she mentioned something that shocked everyone into silence around her. One of his best kept secrets is now out in the open. He wanted to kill her right there but he couldn’t, he was stuck where he stood staring her down as loud static echoed around everyone in the hotel. Even Husk had quickly made an exit.
“Oh yeah! I saw your little songbird wanderin’ around Cannibal Town, Alastor.” She hummed ignoring his glare as his smile threatened to fall, ears flickering in annoyance. “Songbird?” Angel asked unfazed from Alastor’s angry sulking, “Oh Alastor don’t tell me you haven’t told them about your spouse!” She hummed out taking a sip from whatever Husk had given her. Everyone abrupt into questions at that, only falling silent when Alastor sent them a glare. His cane tapped on the ground in annoyance before he stormed out of the hotel, feet automatically taking him towards Cannibal Town he needed to find out if what Mimzy was saying was true or was she just trying to get under his skin. They shouldn’t be down here- they should be up in Heaven, especially after what he had done.
~~
Your hands gripped the ceramic sink as you glared at your reflection in the mirror. You were tired, so tired from constantly being around people that it drained you before you could even get onto the stage and sing your heart out. Was this what fame felt like? Even if it wasn’t the finer Hollywood fame people have talked about, but the fame that came with being a known singer around where you lived. 
A knock on the door made you jump out of your skin before you let out a soft sigh walking towards the door, “Mr. Deverick give me a few more moments-” You stopped mid sentence as you gazed upon the famous radio host standing in front of you, a soft smile on his lips as he held out your favorite flowers. “Now I’m not Mr. Deverick but I will generously give you a moment alone if needed.” He hummed stepping inside your personal room after you had let him in, the flowers still in his hand. Closing the door you let a small smile grace your lips, seeing your husband fix his suit in the vanity that was located in the corner of the room.
“What do I owe the pleasure, Alastor?” You asked as you also fixed your clothes making sure to hide the wedding ring under your favorite pair of gloves, you’ve had to hide your marriage with Alastor for years, why was it bothering you now? “Well I wanted to come see you, Dear! Especially before your show.” He hummed out watching as you turned your back towards him to fix some things up, watching as the smile you wore turned into a frown. He walked over to you carefully placing his chin on your shoulder, “You should smile more, Dear.” He whispered, watching as you nodded and glanced at the wall, your mind was somewhere else. 
But before he could comment on it, the faraway look in your eyes disappeared and you smiled at him. Leaning your head against his and he hummed before allowing a lulling silence to captivate you both. A comfortable silence. Everything he did, it was for you. Only you.
~~~
He walked into Rosie’s Emporium, his eyes snapping onto her tall frame as she was talking to someone.  Which had made him stop in his tracks. It..It was you. You looked as beautiful as the day he married you and then the day he..he had killed you in a blind rage. You were no longer under that horrid man’s thumb.
You were here down in hell..why were you in hell? Why weren’t you in Heaven enjoying your afterlife carefree? He was snapped out of his trance as Rosie finally noticed him standing in the doorway. But he couldn’t hear her as he stared at you, seeing how you looked at him- his own spouse was scared. His songbird was terrified of him. He deserved it after all, he was the one who ripped you from the life you were living.
But deep down despite everything he had done to end up down here. He knew it was still you. You were his driving force, he did everything for you. His little Songbird.
813 notes · View notes
ptolemaeacles · 8 months
Note
pls write more for hazel omg i loved the cheerleader hcs maybe like a childhood best friends to lovers so lots of pining and smut maybe
♡ you belong with me
pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader
synopsis: hazel has had a crush on her best friend since they met in the 1st grade. they were freshman in college now and hazel realizes she can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore.
warnings: 18+ minors dni (both reader and hazel are 18), smut, childhood best friends to lovers, switch!hazel, switch!reader, top!reader, bottom!hazel (no pun intended), let me know if i missed anything!!
notes: aw thank you !!! im glad you liked the hcs. also small disclaimer, i'm a horrid smut writer and i rushed the ending because i didn't want to keep you waiting. hope you like !!!
word count: 2.5k
“god, i’m so excited. i mean this is the first time a girl has asked me out. usually it’s guys who approach me and then i get weird comments when i tell them i like women…” you rambled on but hazel could barely focus. she could only feel the empty pit in her stomach. 
you were so happy to be going on a date and all she could think about is if you would ever be this excited to go on a date with her. she tried to convince you to not go but there was only so much she could do without giving her feelings away. 
hazel thinks she’s loved you since the day she met you. before she knew what ‘love’ meant or what it looked like, she loved you. to her, you were the very definition of that word. 
hazel’s hopeless crush started in the 1st grade. it wasn’t some cute interaction where one of you saved the other from a bully or something. it was simple with the both of you. it always has been. 
you came up to her during lunch and told her you would give her half of your sandwich if she agreed to be your friend.
“what kind of sandwich is it?” hazel asked, from her seat on the lunch table.
“peanut butter and strawberry jelly.” 
“i’m allergic to strawberries.”.
“then don’t eat it and just be my friend.” you sat next to her without another word and the both of you left it like that. simple.
since then, she knew she would never escape you. and she never wanted to. but right now, she felt like if you didn’t stop talking to her about this date, her head would explode. 
hazel watched you walk around your room, shuffling through your closet for an outfit to the movies with the girl who asked you out. she never bothered remembering the girl’s name because she thinks it would the whole situation worse for her. she didn’t want to know anything about that girl.
“...and she said we’ll get ice cream later which i hope-” hazel interrupted you.
“hey, i think i should get home. my mom’s probably wondering where i am and shit, so… i’ll see you later.” hazel wanted to get away as soon as possible. not from you but from the giddiness she could practically feel radiating off your body at the thought of your date. 
“oh.. i thought you told your mom that you were going to study at my place after classes?” you questioned. hazel’s quiet behavior didn’t go unnoticed by you. she was always quiet but after more than 10 years of friendship, you could tell which silences were good and which weren’t. this definitely wasn’t a good one.
“yeah well, we aren’t studying so. i’d better get going, bye.” she spoke in a flat tone, with her head down, as she grabbed her backpack and made her way out of your room.
you stood still, staring at the open door of your room and wondering if you had done something.
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hazel walked into her house, red in the face and a vicious grip on the doorknob. she ran up to her room, and threw her backpack in a random corner, probably knocking her guitar down. but her guitar was the last thing on her mind. 
she was pissed at you. mostly herself but you as well. she knew she had no right to be angry at you but how could you never see that hazel was right there. she was right in front of you, waiting for you to even glance in her direction. it’s all she wanted. to be the one who makes you laugh, the one who you’d think of when you saw romantic tiktok slideshows, the one who took you out on rollerblading dates, the one who got to kiss you before dropping you off back to your house, the one who got to slide her hand up your skirt, the one who got to be in between your legs-
she groaned and loudly, flopping onto her bed and stuffing her face in her pillow. she needed to apologize before her stupid feelings ruined your friendship.
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hazel had a plan. she was going to go to your house after your date and apologize. apologize for being a dick, apologize for falling in love with you, apologize for every and anything she could apologize for so that you wouldn't hate her. she expected you to yell at her or ask her what was wrong with her. what she didn't expect was you to be calling her phone, right now.
she pressed the green 'accept' button and put the phone up to her ear.
"haze.." she could hear you sniffling through the phone, "i-, uh, can i come over, please? my date- it just- it went horribly and i really want to see you. please." hazel felt her heart drop 10 stories.
"yeah, yeah, i'll come pick you up, angel, where are you?" she questioned.
"outside your house."
hazel ran down the stairs and opened her front door, to be met with your red eyes and puffy face.
you immediately wrapped your arms around hazel, burying your face in her chest. her hands went landed themselves in your hair, stroking it gently in an attempt to comfort.
hazel helped you into her room, setting you down on her bed.
"do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly.
"she- she, um, she stood me up." you could barely get a sentence out without hiccuping. hazel reached over to her nightstand and pulled out an unopened water bottle, unscrewing the cap and handed it to you.
you whispered a thank you and took a few sips. it was hazel's turn to speak now.
"fuck her," you give her a confused look, "oh no, not fuck her, don't do that, i meant that you should just forget about her. she obviously isn't the one for you if she stood you up, and there are so many other people in the world-"
"hazel."
"yes?"
you didn't waste anymore time. you grabbed hazel's face in your hands and crashed your lips into hers.
hazel was sure this was a dream. there was no way you were kissing her right now. she definitely fell asleep and she's imagining this whole thing.
while hazel was having her loser lesbian crisis, you noticed that the kiss wasn't being reciprocated.
'fuck.' you thought. you just ruined your closest and longest friendship. you pulled away from her.
"shit, haze, i didn't mean to do that, i'm not sure what i was thinking-" you started but were quickly shut up when hazel pulled you back in for another kiss.
relief flooded your body. she wanted this. both of you wanted this.
hazel felt you smile into the kiss and took that as her 'go ahead'. she tilted her head, deepening the kiss. shyly, she moved her hand from her lap to your waist. you moved one of your hands to the side of her neck and the other in her hair. you could practically feel her pulse beating rapidly under your palm.
hazel gained a newfound confidence and pushed you back onto her bed, slotting herself between your legs. her lips hovered over your neck before attacking your neck with sloppy kisses. her lips trailed down your neck, making sure to savor the taste of you. her lips met the fabric of your blouse.
"can i take this off, please?" she asked in a breathy manner, as if she had just ran a marathon. you nodded, at a loss for words.
“need to hear you say it, baby. need to know you want it just as bad as i do.” hazel wasn’t aware how raspy her voice was, as if she hadn’t drank water in days. 
“take it off, haze, please. take it all off.” you whispered and caught her lips with yours while she lifted your top off your body. once she had your top thrown in a random corner in her room, she went straight for your pants, not even bothering to take her own clothes off. 
“fuck, hazel,” you were breathless, “i want to see you, too.” you swallowed, gripping the beige button up she was wearing, hoping she knew what you meant.
“you will, princess, don’t worry. i just want to focus on you right now, okay?” you nodded, not fully sure what ‘focusing on you’ meant.
hazel had you in just your bra and underwear, her eyes scanned your body hungrily. if this was a dream, she prayed she remembered every single moment when she woke up. you were better than any fantasy she could conjure up on those lonely nights, when she couldn't think of anything but you. 
you felt her strong gaze settle on your body and you felt self conscious thoughts take the forefront of your mind. you raised your hands over your body, starting to think hazel didn’t want you like you wanted her.
“hey,” hazel grabbed your hands and gently pushed them to your sides, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted you like this. how many nights i’ve stayed up thinking about you.” hazel started kissing down your neck, making her way to your chest. 
she pulled your bra down, not even bothering to fully unhook it before latching her tongue down onto your right nipple. 
the wet feeling of her mouth made you cry aloud, completely forgetting her mom (and jeff, too, probably) were a few feet down the hall.
hazel lifted her mouth of your tit with a pop, moving her hand to squeeze it instead.
“i’d love to hear you, angel, but i need you to be quiet,” she feverishly pecked your lips, “just tonight, hm?” you murmured a response, more concerned with the ache between your thighs than anything else. 
you guessed hazel read your mind or something, as she started moving down the bed towards the place on your body that needed the most attention. she looked up to you, as if asking once more, if this was what you really wanted. 
“haze, please.” you whined. that was all the confirmation she needed. she slid your panties down slowly, watching a string of wetness connect your pussy and your underwear. hazel felt herself growing wet at the fact that she did this to you. it filled her with a new sense of confidence. she didn’t even wait for your panties to completely slip off your legs before diving in between your thighs.
your back arched off the bed the moment you felt hazel’s tongue make contact with your swollen bud. she slipped her wet muscle throughout your folds, desperate to catch every single drop of wetness she could.
“fuck, haze, feels really fucking good.” you moaned and brought your hand to the back of her head, gripping her hair between your fingers in ecstasy. 
she hummed in response to the praise you were giving her, sending vibrations throughout your core that nearly made you choke. hazel continued to suck on your clit, holding your thighs apart with her hands hooked under your knees. she slid her face side to side with her tongue flat against your pussy, moving your clit with just the right amount of pressure. 
you felt a pressure building in your lower belly and tried to move hazel’s face closer to your mound to chase your release. 
and she stopped. 
you lifted your head from the pillow and stared at her kissing your thighs, before going to unbuckle her own pants. 
“wait hazel,” you put your hands on top of her jean button, “can i?” you spoke so quietly, hazel barely caught what you were saying. she nodded her head, unsure of what else to do.
you gently unbuttoned her jeans before sliding them and her boxers down and allowing hazel to step out of them. you lifted her button up over her head and unclasped her bra, letting them fall onto the space on the floor next to her. she was in awe of you. you were so gentle to her and she would never believe she deserved it, even if you reminded her of it everyday for the rest of her life. 
once she stood completely naked in front of you, you led her to lay down on bed, stomach facing up, before separating her legs and hooking one of your own over hers. 
you looked at her face for any sign of discomfort, only to be met with the rapid rise and fall of hazel’s chest and her eyes shut in euphoria. 
“hazel,” you caught her attention, she stared right at you, “keep your eyes on me.” you lowered yourself gently, placing your clit right on top of hers. both of you let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of your juices mixing with the others.
placing your hands on her stomach, you moved slowly, rocking your hips back and forth against hers. hazel struggled to keep her eyes open, getting lost in the pleasure you were giving her. she always thought of moments exactly like this and imagined it being a lot different. she imagined that she would be the one on top of you, taking charge and pulling orgasm after orgasm from you. but after feeling the movement of your hips against hers and the way your breasts bounced slightly when you would pick up your pace. hazel fought her hardest to keep her eyelids from drooping. she didn’t want to miss a single move you made.
you quickly found a steady rhythm and went faster, prompting hazel to cry out. you leaned down and caught her moans in a rough kiss. 
the familiar coil in your belly seemed to get tighter and tighter. hazel must’ve noticed the way your hips started to rock faster and knew you were about to cum.
“c’mon, cum for me, baby. give it to me, i’m almost there too,” she started rambling as she felt her orgasm approach her as well, “keep going, just a bit faster, angel.” both of you fought to keep your moans from being heard from anyone else in the house.
“fuck hazel, i’m cumming, i-” you were cut off as your orgasm hit you in waves. warmth spread throughout your body, making your limbs weak and causing your legs to nearly give out. 
you kept going, over stimulating yourself, trying to get hazel to reach her orgasm. by the looks of it, she was on the edge. her baby hairs stuck to her sweaty forehead, her face scrunched up in pleasure as her back arched into the air. 
“fuck fuck fuck fuck-” she rambled as her orgasm washed over her, quickly quieted by your mouth capturing hers. 
the both of you gently rode out your releases, breathless and sweaty. you carefully lifted yourself off of hazel and laid next to her on the bed. 
“we should talk about this, you know.” hazel started.
“we will. in the morning, i promise. for now, i just want to be with you.” that seemed to be enough for hazel.
you draped your arm over her waist, pulling her closer to you. she tucked her head in the crook of your neck and the both of you drifted off to sleep.
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thecreelhouse · 2 months
Text
⌞ it felt like love & drugs ⌝
Paring: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
WC: 7.2k
Summary: After Steve helps you relax when your vibrator died, you want to return the favor, but it escalates, fast. // This is part 2 of it’s crazy what you’ll do for a friend ! part 3 - crystal clear 🥰
CW/Tags: language, roommates/FWB, Steve and reader getting stoned together, panic attacks, taunting/teasing banter, smut (duh), switch!steve/switch!reader, oral sex (m & f receiving), PiV rough/unprotected sex, light voyeurism/exhibitionism, ruined orgasm/denial, overstim, fluff
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A/N: this was supposed to be sub!steve, I swear, but whoops. my hand slipped. hope y’all enjoy ♡ title is from love & drugs - the maine
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘‎♡⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘‎
When Steve offered to help you … “relax”, after your vibrator died at the end of a horrid day, you thought you were dreaming. That was two weeks ago, and you’ve been a wreck ever since.
Yes, you were counting the days.
It was all you could think about, and you were silently hoping another opportunity would appear to return the favor to him, but no time felt right enough to bring it back up.
Despite Steve saying it wouldn’t make things weird, it did make things weird, for you. It was relatively easy to shrug it off on the outside, but you were losing it internally. On the other hand, he seemed fine, like nothing ever happened. Like he never went down on his best friend in the middle of the kitchen.
The sweet pet names he used casually weren’t helping much, either. 
“Hey, babe, how was your day?”
“What movie do you wanna watch next, sweetheart?”
“I grabbed the big pack of batteries, just to be safe. They’re all yours, honey.”
That last one had to be intentional.
It was beginning to drive you insane, and the tension was building enough to slowly bubble over. You’d only be able to keep this to yourself for so much longer before blurting to Steve some filthy comment about going down on him.
Self doubt settled in; maybe he didn’t want what you offered last time. Maybe Steve was just being polite. Maybe he wasn’t attracted to you like that. He was just being a good friend, helping you in the heat of the moment. 
Let it go. Just forget it. Don’t bother him with the idea.
So, you do. At least, as best as you can. Steve’s still on your mind when you play with yourself, quietly in your room. It’s obviously not as good as what he did with you, but you can’t just ask for him to eat you out again, just because. Choking on him is the first thought while you push your fingers into your own mouth.
Even when you’re not getting yourself off, you’ve had some moments of weakness where the thought crosses your mind while you have a lollipop in your mouth, or a popsicle. Licking ice cream off the spoon. None of it compares to what the real thing would be, but the concept of pleasuring your friend, your roommate, with your mouth, is becoming an unhealthy obsession.
On a rare night the two of you have off the next day, it’s spent getting stoned out of your mind with Steve.
It’s happened before, enough to be familiar with one another as you zone out, laugh at stupid shit, and raid the kitchen together. Tonight, though, you notice Steve’s not his usual relaxed, goofy self when high. He’s jittery. He’s quiet. He’s anxious, and you’re watching his weed-fueled spiraling unfold in real time.
You’ve only seen this happen once before, but it happened in a group of your friends; Robin was able to distract him, roping Steve into a nonsensical discussion of which female character from all of the movies released that year was the hottest. That worked, of course.
Except now, you’re alone with him, and scrambling to find the right words to keep him calm.
While you lay on the couch, he leans back onto it from the floor. You tried to get him to sit on the couch, but he insisted the floor was comfier.
Then, the spiraling starts, but it’s subtle. He kicks it off with the strange question of, “If both of us are single by our thirties, you wanna get married?” He seems okay, at first. Odd thing to ask, but he’s asked much weirder questions while high.
You choke on the hit you’re taking, coughing roughly as the smoke hangs in your lungs far too long. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah… like, you’re not afraid you’ll die alone?” He reaches for the pipe and lighter in your hands, but you pull it back.
Brows knitting together in confusion and a bit of concern, you ask, “Steve, where the hell is this coming from?”
“What if I’m dying?” He sputters, shoulders slumping before he continues. “What if we’re both dying? And what if we both die alone? That’s so… sad.”
You purse your lips before responding, “I mean… don’t we all come into this world alone? And then we leave alone? Everyone does, right?” 
Steve groans, hands reaching up to snake his fingers through his hair, except he tugs on his locks halfway through as his eyes squeeze shut. “Don’t say that.”
“M’sorry, you wanna talk about something else?” He shakes his head as his hands fall back to his sides, head falling back against the couch cushion.
“Wanna not be high anymore,” He murmurs, looking over at you with a desperate, needy stare. “Make it stop.”
“Stevie, you’re okay, I promise. We both are.” This would almost be comical if he wasn’t slipping closer and closer to tears. You slide off the couch onto the floor next to him, reaching out to gently touch his shoulder. “Maybe you should drink some water. When’s the last time you had any?”
Steve sticks his tongue out to pinch it, and feel if it’s dry or not. It takes everything in you not to start giggling. He lets go for a moment to answer, trying to joke, “Eight years, at least.” He turns to you with a frown, eyes red and hooded. “Do we have some?”
That, unfortunately, lets a laugh slip from your lips. “Steve, we live here, and last I checked, we paid the water bill. We have running water.”
“Stop laughing,” He pouts, pulling his knees to his chest before resting his head on them, face still turned towards you. 
“M’sorry, honey,” The pet name slips easily, more than your laughter moments ago, catching Steve off guard as he blushes. “I’ll get you some, okay? Hang tight.” You set the pipe on the coffee table, out of his reach, but he doesn’t seem interested in the slightest anyway.
As you push yourself to stand, Steve reaches out and grabs your ankle, still pouting. It’d be cuter if he wasn’t panicking, but he’s got something weighing heavy on his mind, and you can tell through how sad his eyes look. “Are you leaving?”
“Gimme like… one minute, okay? I’ll be back, I promise.”
Steve sits up, readying himself to stand, but he moves an inch before falling back against the couch. He looks up in your direction, “I wanna come with you.”
“Stevie, just stay put, I don’t need you breaking your neck or something.”
“Breaking my ‎what?” Panic floods his face and you realize you said the wrong thing. You crouch back down to him, gently taking his face in your hands, trying your best to ignore how warm he feels.
“One minute. You’re fine. You’re safe. Give me one minute.” You run into the kitchen before he can grab for you again, sobering up a bit with a mission in mind. 
When you fill two glasses of water, one for each of you, but you’re sure he’ll need both, you stop at the freezer before calling out. “Hey, I’m grabbing a popsicle, want one?”
Steve’s head pokes up from the other side of the couch, only past his eyes, though. You giggle at the sight. “Uh-huh,” is all he can manage to respond with.
You return with each hand holding a popsicle and glass of water, sitting back in the spot you previously had. Steve wastes no time downing not only his glass, but yours, too, as expected. 
“That was yours, wasn’t it?” Steve bashfully asks, only feeling guilty for a moment before unwrapping his popsicle. “We should get, like…. Twenty more of these.”
You’re glad to see he’s already distracted, thoughts wandering away from anxiety about death, and into something mundane. Hopefully it continues.
“Twenty more popsicles?”
“No, no, boxes of popsicles. So like…. A lot.”
Laughing, you ask, “Where do we have the freezer space for twenty boxes?!”
Steve glances over to the fridge, then to you, eyes narrowing, “I’ll make it work.” You’re sucking on the tip of your popsicle when Steve looks back at you, still glancing at the freezer while your lips make a subtle smooch noise as you pull off to laugh.
Steve’s frozen in place, gaze glued to your mouth as your tongue slips out to lick along the side of the popsicle, then puckering around the tip again, before taking more of it into your mouth.  
You’re not even trying to rile him up, but Steve’s definitely distracted from his panic attack now, watching you satisfy your oral fixation with the red ice. As you turn back to him, melted cherry juice drips from your lips, onto your hand holding the popsicle, and some on your chest. Your eyes land on the bright red droplets first, missing his reaction to all of this.
“Shit, I hate getting sticky.” Truly, you’re innocent right now. Not a dirty thought in your mind that’s pushing you to act this way, or to say what you just said. “I should get a napk— ” Your words dissolve on your lips as Steve’s motions play out; he grabs your wrist, his tongue lapping along your fingers, slowly trailing to the source in your grip.
Even for Steve, this is bold, high or not.
“O- or that works too, I guess,” You breathe, eyes locked with his as he pulls back, grip still on your wrist. Trying to break the tension, you joke, “You’re somethin’ else when you’re high, y’know that?”
“You’re the one always trying to keep your mouth busy.” Your eyes widen, dropping the popsicle remnants onto the wrapper on the table. He smirks, “What, you think I didn’t notice?”
Pausing before you retort, you notice the pipe was moved from where you set it on the coffee table. “Where’s the— Jesus, Steve, please tell me you didn’t smoke again.”
Steve giggles with a shrug. “I dunno nothin’.” As he puts his hands up, you see it in his palm.
“Oh my g— Steve, you were just panicking! You’re done, okay?” Grabbing the pipe from his hands, you glare at him. “I’m finishing this bowl off and then we’re both done. Got it?”
While you inhale, he moves over to you, grabbing you by the chin as his lips hover over yours.  The close proximity makes you nervous, dizzy, almost exhaling too early as he gravelly demands, “Shotgun.” You shake your head as best as possible with his grip still on your face, lungs burning while you still hold your breath.
So he waits, like the conniving asshole he is, watching your eyes water with a wicked smirk. “C’mon, give it t’me.” His other hand slides up your thigh, fingers inching closer to where you want him most. It doesn’t take much, just a feathered touch of one finger, slowly dragging up your clothed core, and you’re a goner.
You exhale with a whine, trying your hardest not to cough in Steve’s face as his lips part to take the smoke in. When he releases you, you’re turning your face away to cough wildly, eyes watering even more. Catching your breath, you glare at him with glossy, red eyes, while wiping away the excess spit on your lips with the back of your hand.
“What the fuck is your problem, Harrington?” You rasp, chest still burning, from the smoke or annoyance, you’re not sure. 
Exhaling secondhand smoke, he smirks again, “You’re cute when you’re mad.”
Steve is infuriating like this, getting under your skin, slamming all the right buttons, and beneath it all, you love it.
Yet, you warn him, “Steve, you’re pushing it.” He’s not. He knows that, and you know that, but you’re both too high for this right now. Whatever… this is.  “And you’re gonna be really high any minute now, a- and…”
He’s got his hand back on your thigh, leaning in towards you, close enough to kiss you. “We shouldn’t… we’re both… we…” Your warnings fade out as your arms wrap around his neck, contrasting with your words. “Steve, this isn’t a good idea.”
Steve grabs you quickly, helping you straddle his lap. It takes a couple seconds for your mind to catch up with the rest of your body. His hands grip your waist as he flexes his hips up into you, ever so slightly. You gasp as you feel him, already hard beneath you.
He rolls himself up into your core, brushing against your clit ever so softly. “No? Why not?” You bite back a moan, shoving your hands onto his thighs to try holding him down. 
“I- I mean, it is, but we shouldn’t do this now, right?” You’re trying to be the voice of reason, but you’re losing, fast. How are you supposed to resist this when you’ve been thinking about even just touching Steve for weeks. “You- were you this hard the whole time?”
He loses his filter easily when he’s stoned, so he blurts, “Uh-huh, pretty much every time I looked at you the last two weeks.” Pushing his hips up, your efforts of holding him down were useless while he grinds against you again. This time, his head falls back onto the couch, eyelids weighed down with desire as he watches you give in, grinding down onto him.
 “Oh m- my god, so that’s why you kept hiding in your room, huh?” You smirk at the thought of flustering him so much, he has to resort to jerking off at the most inconvenient times. “What were you thinkin’ ‘bout?”
Steve’s tugging at your shirt, sinking deeper into his high, “Off. Now.”
“No, I asked you a question, honey.” You purr, kissing along his jawline. His breath hitches at the touch. “What do you think about when you’re worked up over me?”
Steve whines, hands exploring under your shirt, and you’re too far gone to order him to keep his hands to himself. “You.” Is all he can bring himself to say as he feels you nip along his neck, soothing the love bites with wet, open mouthed kisses. “Baby, please…”
“That answers nothing, Stevie. Lemme rephrase my question,” You pull back, hands on his face, stomach flipping over the way he stares back at you, desperate and needy with shallow breaths already. “What do you imagine us doing when you fuck your fist? What do you want me to do?”
He tries to throw his head back while squirming underneath you, but you keep him in place, and he whines, louder this time. “Dunno where to start,” He breathes, pouting at you in a cute yet pathetic way. 
“I might know… What’s off limits?” You ask just as he asked you two weeks ago. He swallows sharply, shaking his head.
 “N- nothing.”
“You’ll tell me if something changes though, right? Or if you don’t like something?”
Steve’s nodding enthusiastically, “Yeah, uh-huh. Nothing’s off limits with you.”
You do your best to ignore the way heat blooms throughout your body from that.
“Can you get up? Y’need help?” You slide off of him, watching as he tries his hardest to hide another pout at the loss of your body on his. You nod towards the couch behind him, “Want you up here, s’that okay?”
Without a verbal answer, Steve scrambles clumsily onto the couch, eyes growing wide as you stay on the floor and push his legs apart. You’re not sure where this confidence is coming from to take the lead, but you kind of like watching Steve become submissive.
“M’dizzy,” He murmurs, hands at his sides, gripping the couch’s fluff while looking pained. 
“You okay? We can stop, honey, it’s okay. What do you need?”
Like you anticipated, he whimpers, “Too high,” with a frown. You sigh, head falling forward and resting on his thigh, not really thinking much about the placement; he tenses up when he realizes how close you are to where he needs you the most.
“Stevie, I told you this was gonna happen,” You say this softly, not wanting to freak him out more. 
“I know, I- I got nervous,” He admits, panting from panic building. “You’re killin’ me the last two weeks, wanna touch you and hear those cute noises you make again…” Running his hands through his hair, he twists his eyes shut as he continues to ramble, “and I just- I thought maybe getting really high would help not think ‘bout it. I fucked up, baby.”
Despite this being the consequence of his own actions, you feel for Steve, knowing firsthand how awful it can be if you get too high, how fast your thoughts can snowball, or feel like they’re completely melting out of your ears. Your hands splay out as you rub your palms softly, slowly, up and down his thighs.
 “I can give you a distraction, you want that?” Steve frantically nods. “You trust me?” Again, he wordlessly replies with a nod. “Tell me if you wanna stop, or need something else, ‘kay?”
Steve watches you as he holds his breath; you reach for the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down slowly. You’re shocked when you’re immediately met with his throbbing length instead of a pair of boxers, freezing before you can pull his pants down fully.
“What’s wrong?” You don’t realize you’re staring until Steve asks this, worried. “Is it— is this okay?”
You feel your mouth water over the sight of him, naked from the waist below and up close. Tongue darting out to lick your lips, you force yourself to move and pull his pants off completely. 
“More than okay,” You breathe, watching his cock kick as precum pearls at the tip. “You…” You’re struggling with your thoughts, trying to find the balance between being carefree and fun, and accidentally blurting out your feelings now that you’re really fucking high.
Kissing up his thighs, alternating sides every so often, you take your time, reveling in his needy whimpers. The sweet, soft kisses continue up his body, taking your dear, sweet time in hopes it’s beginning to distract him. 
Steve can’t focus on being too high if he’s more worried about you moving too slowly, right?
“Angel, need you now,” His pleas of lust are music to your ears as you reach his shoulder, sucking softly along the sensitive crook of his neck. Your hand winds around to the nape of his neck, fingers weaving through his hair as you hold the back of his head, keeping him upright. “Needa’ kiss you.”
When you pull away, a glistening thread of spit follows you, attached to your lips for a moment. Steve bucks upward at the sight, eyes flickering between your eyes and lips.
“This is what good friends do for each other, right?” You whisper, breath hot against his own lips as you move closer. Maybe if you say it out loud enough, you’ll believe it. “Just fuckin’ around… helping each other out.”
Steve frowns, but doesn’t protest, just whimpers as your grip tugs on his hair. 
“Can you be good for me?” He breathes out quick ‘uh-huh”s, about to reach for your hips, but you pin his arms to his sides. “I’ll take care of you, but you gotta do one thing for me.”
You begin to sink back to the floor, with a detour of your lips hovering just above his tip, gaze locked with his as you spit slowly onto him. Not even spit, more like drool. Steve gasps sharply, chest heaving, “Anything, name it, I’ll do it.”  
“Hands to yourself. Everything stops if you touch me.”
Steve looks offended, “You’re kidding me.”
You giggle, “Dead serious.”
 “But I- I wanna— ” You know what he’s about to say, it’s the reason you’re making this rule to begin with.
“Fuck my face?” As you cut him off, his face drops. “Not ‘til I say so.”
“What the fuck, how’d you know?” Steve’s voice drops to a whisper. You smirk, shrugging as you feign innocence.
“Might’ve heard you a few nights ago, walking by your door.” While you wish you heard him moan your name, the sounds you stumbled upon were still too sweet to let go. “You’re also an idiot for watching porn out here, thinking I wouldn’t see,” Your teasing makes his face flush red with embarrassment. 
Mortified, Steve stammers, “I- I thought you were sleeping!”
To be fair, you were about to go to bed, but curiosity got the best of you that night. 
You slipped down the hall, peeking around the corner and past the kitchen, where the living room’s only source of light was the TV’s glow of filth. 
Steve was on the floor, sweats shoved down to his ankles, leaning back with his legs spread; he was fixated on the scene of some dude snapping his hips into a woman’s face, fucking down her throat. He thrust his hips up in time with the jerking motions he made, fist shining in the TV’s light from precum spilling over.
You were burning up as you watched, knowing it was wrong, you should give him space, stop being nosy… but it was also wrong for him to fuck his fist out in the shared space.
With a mind of their own, your hands rushed to where you needed them most, one between your thighs, the other under your shirt, grabbing at your chest; you tried your hardest to imitate Steve’s pace and pressure he had the day he offered to help you, but your own touch never came close to his. 
You bit your lip to hold back your own noises as he groaned lowly, murmuring things like “That’s it… my good girl can take it all, huh?” The moans from tacky porn he watched were drowned out by his own. Silently, you joined him in the filthy fantasy, hand slapped over your mouth as your fingers toyed with your clit, cunt soaking through your underwear already.
Steve had no clue the two of you came together.
“I tried, ‘til I heard you moaning,” You admit without shame. “I’m not mad, Stevie. You could’ve invited me, though.”
“You… you watched me?”
Fuck. Should’ve kept that to yourself.
Should’ve really not done it at all.
Slightly grimacing, your hands slide off of him, “I— yeah. I know I should’ve gone back to bed, but… but you sounded so hot, I- I couldn’t sleep without knowing what you were doing.”
He grabs your hands and pulls them back to his body with a dopey grin, holding a hint of smugness as he breaks your rule already.
Through his hazy high, he manages to admit clearly, “Only did it ‘cause I wanted you to watch me.” Your jaw drops, unsure if you’re mad he played you at your own game, or if you’re impressed.
Nodding silently with a petty smile, you ask, “Hey, Steve? How’s your high going? Guess you’re done panicking, so you don’t need this—” in one fluid motion, you lean in, sliding your tongue up his shaft, lips wrapping around the tip, and take him in without hesitation.
The noises that leave Steve as his hips jerk are sinful and raw; his hands twitch as he keeps his hands near his sides, dying to grab you and fuck your face. He stays… well, not still, but he’s not touching you, like you asked.
As quick as it started, it ends all the same; you barely have him at the back of your throat before pulling back, drool following your lips as his dick is left throbbing and sticky. He’s panting, arm thrown over his eyes with his head thrown back onto the cushion.
“Right? You’re good enough to finish on your own?” You stand, spitting over Steve’s cock one more time before walking away, “If you still need some help, you can borrow my vibrator.” Your taunting is helping him race to the edge, almost over it, almost losing control and cumming without your mouth still on him. He wants to start stroking himself, almost does, but grabs you as you round the back of the couch before walking out.
You whip around, glaring at Steve, then his hand gripping a fist full of fabric from the back of your shirt, keeping you here. At the same time, he kicks his pants off completely.
“Oh, that vibrator? The one I got batteries for?” His high must be wearing off, just enough where he’s able to stand up and swing his leg over the couch. He’s behind you, half naked, with one hand snaking around your hips to pull you against him; you can feel how hard he is as he holds you tightly, slowly rutting into your backside. “The one that died on you? The one that doesn’t make you moan as loud as I did?”
You’ve got your thighs pressed together over his words, while his other arm slides around to your chest, over your neck, holding you in the position of a chokehold without actually doing it. Watching his arm flex as it winds around you, your stomach flutters while your pussy throbs.
“C’mon, honey, you can tell me.” The hand on your hip slides past the waistband of your sleep shorts, sliding over your cunt before dipping his middle finger between your folds. Steve groans as he feels how wet you are, enjoying how easily he can tease your clit in small, slow circles. Your head throws back onto his shoulder, and he kisses your temple, lingering to hear your breathy moans in his ear.
“Barely touched you, and you’re already going dumb on me,” He can feel the way your clit throbs as he taunts you. “What happened to you being in control? You had it for a second there, babe.” 
There’s only two thoughts taking space in your mind right now:
You hate Steve right now.
You need Steve, right fucking now.
Shoving his hands away— he never had a tight, promising grip to begin with— you spin around to take his face in your hands, kissing him roughly. Steve stumbles back towards the wall, lips still attached to yours as he sighs through his nose; a muffled grunt vibrates into your mouth as his back hits the wall. You’re not even trying to take back control, you just couldn’t stand another second without kissing him.
As he pulls back, Steve catches your bottom lip in between his teeth, tugging a bit before letting go, breathless. His hand grips your chin roughly, “You wanna finish what you started?”
Steve releases your face, and you nod with a pout and lust-blown pupils; you start sinking back to the floor, but he holds you up by your hips, tugging at your shirt again. “Off.”
 “Only fair if you do the same, Stevie,” Your shirt rolls over your body and crumples on the floor. You’re about to remove your shorts, but Steve’s faster, leaning down to your chest, biting along the swell of your breast. “F- fuck,” You’re gasping as he continues and flips you around, with your back against the wall now.
Immediately he’s sucking and swirling his tongue around your nipple; low, muffled groans add to the dizzying work his mouth does. His large hand reaches for the other nipple, pinching a bit before his palm is blanketing over your breast, groping roughly. You’re whining and bucking your hips towards nothing, so he takes pity on you, shoving a leg between your thighs.
 “St- Stevie, I was— oh, god,” You can’t focus with his hands and mouth on you, all while pressing his thigh against your core. You really are going dumb for him, and you wish you could have this all the time. “I was t-trying to take care of you, asshole.”
“Didn’t say you can’t, just wanna play with you for a bit.” He’s kissing back up your chest, up your neck, skipping your jaw and cheek to jump right back into a rough, messy kiss. It’s a lot of tongue and spit and teeth and nothing close to the softness of the first time you two kissed, but you need this right now. You need him like this right now.
Pulling back, you snap “I’m ‘bout to lose my mind if you don’t fuck my face or cunt in the next ten seconds.” Steve freezes, pulling his leg away, hands finding their new spots pressed against the wall, arms caging you in.
“Don’t tease me like that,” Steve warns, licking his lips as he looks down at you. “Because you have no idea how badly I want— need that,” He exhales roughly, forehead falling onto yours, ignoring how his cock twitches, desperate for attention. “And if anything makes our friendship weird, s’gonna be that.”
With wide, sweet eyes, you gaze back at him, pushing him back a bit, “So make it weird.” His eyes fall shut while he sighs loudly. “Steve, this has been weird since the damn vibrator died, it’s going to be weird forever, just accept it and fuck one of my holes already. I need— ”
Steve’s ripping your shorts down and off of your legs, pushing your legs apart when he pauses to look up at you from the floor. Hands grip your hips so roughly, you know he’ll leave handprints behind.
It happens so fast— his mouth is on you, hot and unforgiving, pace nowhere near the soft and sweet demeanor he had the first time he went down on you. Your hands fall to his head, fingers weaving through his locks to pull, hard. The shameless groan he lets out into your cunt makes your knees buckle, vibrations only adding to the intensity he sucks and laps at your clit with.
“Oh, fu- fuck,” You’re going to climax before he’s even inside you if he keeps it up, wishing you weren’t so easy to please. His pretty doe eyes, still red from his high, never leave yours while he continues burying his face between your thighs. “S- St— ohmygod— M’gonna cum t’soon, y’gotta stop.”
“That fast?” His fingers seamlessly switch with his tongue for a moment, murmuring, “Y’can just cum again.”
 “But I— ” Your body jolts as his tongue flicks at your clit while two fingers slide into you with ease. “I w- this was supposed to be ‘bout you…” Your words become lost as you notice the steady, repetitive motion of his arm, stroking himself as he eats you out. 
Steve doesn’t reply, he’s just working relentlessly to push you over the edge. You’re too far gone to make him stop, whining while grinding onto his face, so close, so very close—
He pulls back, hands still holding you up, watching as your body reacts to a ruined orgasm; twitching, legs shaking, walls fluttering, moaning, all while feeling so empty. The spark of your high had been snuffed out, leaving you with an ache still between your thighs despite being a breathless mess.
You’re walking a thin line between retaliation and desperation, eyes stuck on Steve as he stands, smirking as he leans in close.
“Guess we’re even now, huh?” He taunts you with that gravelly voice that sends blood rushing straight to your core. You’re speechless over his ill-intent, how close he brought you to an earth-shattering high, just to leave you in the dust.
You want to switch, take over, make him beg, but you’re so hung up on the lost bliss, you can only bring yourself to nod as you pout, ready to cry.
Steve notices the tears building before you even do. He’s holding your face softly, concerned, “Too much?”
Shaking your head, your bottom lip trembles; you’re overwhelmed from the way he just ruined you, and all you can respond with is, “Need you.”
“Honey, you need a break, it’s okay,” You’re shaking your head again, but his hands tighten just enough to hold you in place. “M’sorry, I— ”
You surge forward, kissing him roughly as your hands slide up his arms, holding him as he holds you. Your arousal is still sticky on his lips, tongue slipping between them to tease against his. Moving his hands slowly, you guide him down to your hips, moaning into his mouth. Your hands move to his face, forcing him to look at you as you pull back. A string of slick follows your lips while slipping slowly from his own.
Eyes locked with his, you’re certain in your demand, “I. Need. You.”
Steve’s frozen as he takes in your words, still registering the messy kiss, your emotions, everything that just happened. Thankfully, it’s only for a moment.
Breaking out of his daze, he’s helping you stay steady as he hitches your leg up and around his hip; Steve’s arm slides under your leg to keep you in place, quick to use his free hand to grab his cock, sliding the tip along your folds. You gasp and shudder as he teases your over-sensitive clit.
“Need what?” He gets it now, you like this, the humiliation, the overstimulation… What he thought was payback for the way you left him high and dry, only made you more of a submissive, pliable mess. “Need me to stuff that pretty little cunt with my cock?”
Your eyes roll back between the dirty talk and the feeling of his length sliding between your folds, cruelly brushing against your clit. It’s not enough. 
“Ye- yeah, Stevie, need that.” You’re whimpering as he teases your entrance, barely pushing through. You whisper shakily as he pulls back, “F-fuck.”
“Okay,” Steve simply replies. Then he stops right at your entrance, eyes flickering to yours with a wicked glint, “Beg. Go ‘head, like you do when you’re touching yourself.”
The desire to be dominated by him takes a backseat. Instead, you break from the haze you began slipping into,close to sub-space, glaring as you spit, “I hate you.” You don’t, but you sure hate the way 
“Hm… doesn’t sound much like begging at all.” He starts to pull back, but you tighten your leg around him, pushing him against you. 
The switch is rapid. “You wanna go back to fucking your fist?” You spit— literally, you spit down between the two of you, coating his length with extra slick and making him shiver. “Because you can go do that if you’re gonna play games.”
Neither of you ever know when to quit.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought this-” He thrusts into you, hard and fast, throwing your head back against the wall as you cry out. The stretch is instant, and he stays still, deep inside as you adjust, thankfully. It still doesn’t make the sting subside… but you kind of love it. It hurts, but it’s a good kind of hurt, nothing you’ve felt before with anyone you’ve ever fucked. “— Was what you wanted. I don’t think your useless toy can make you feel like this.” 
For how weak Steve feels at the knees over how you flutter around him, he’s doing a good job of hiding it. You, on the other hand, your leg still on the floor is shaking as you try to stay up. Steve notices, cradling your face by its side in one of his strong hands while his eyes search yours for any signs of distress. 
Instead, you just look completely fucked out from just one thrust already.
The hand still on your face slides behind your head, keeping you from slamming your head back. Arm still under your leg, he firms his grip. “I got you, won’t let y’fall, don’t worry,” His tone is soft and caring, a noticeable change from moments ago.
“Such a gentleman, even w- when you’re balls deep in your roommate, huh?” Your joke comes out shaky, still adjusting a bit, but that doesn’t matter anymore. What you care about right now is for him to actually fuck you. “Steve, need you t’move, please.”
Steve smirks, slowly rolling his hips back before slamming into you again. “There she is, that’s m’girl,” He rasps, repeating his motions, slowly reeling back to impale you on his cock again. Your heart flutters when he calls you that. 
His girl. It means nothing to him, but for now, you can keep it to yourself and play pretend.
All you can do is whimper and moan, shaky and incoherent. Steve’s voice is sweet, soft, with a taunting edge, “It’s okay, only asked you to beg once. Y’want me to take care of you, honey?”
“Uh-huh,” You pant, fingers digging into his back, scratching, marking him up. “Don’t trust you, though.”
The power dynamic drops from Steve while buried deep in you, admiring how angelic you look like this, lost in the consequence of your desires.
Angelic probably isn’t the word that fits your attitude in this moment, but the way you tilt your head back further into his palm, trusting him, how your hips roll into his while your eyes flutter shut, softly whining while resisting your eyes wanting to close, wanting more than anything to admire him in return— yeah, you’re as close to an angel as he’ll get.
“Promise you’ll get to finish, I mean it,” He breathes. “No more teasing, I mean it. I’m gonna take real good care of you.”
Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as his thrusts pick up ever so slightly, trying to nod to acknowledge his promise, but you’re already fucked-out, dumb and cock-drunk.
Steve twitches inside of you, “Bet no one’s ever made you feel this good n’ full before, huh?”
 “N- no,” You rasp as your arms wind around his neck, “Can’t have anyone else after this.”
That shoves Steve closer to his own high, making him groan, “No? Why’s that, honey?” Every time he calls you that, you tighten around him, earning a hiss through his gritted teeth. 
“Don’t think anyone— h’my god— can fuck me like you can,” You can’t hold back your thoughts or feelings. “Don’t w- want anyone else.”
Steve’s trying his best not to let his mind wander, not to let his thoughts and feelings consume him. You’re not saying what he thinks you are, what he wants you to confess. He continues railing you, grasp leaving your head to touch you, bring you to that blissed out high you deserved from the start.
Fingers on your clit, your head falls back, bumping against the wall, and he can’t help the snort that comes out while you giggle and groan over the ache. 
“Jesus christ, don’t fuckin’ do that,” He warns after feeling you tighten around him while laughing. He shoots a winded, lazy smile. “Next time we’re fucking in bed, promise.”
“N- next time?” You’re asking, and Steve just murmurs a quick “Uh-huh” as he snaps his hips roughly up into yours, rewarding him with the most sinful moan he’s heard from you yet. He’s fucking you fast and hard, only focused on getting you off, for real this time.
“Steve, you— you’re— ” You’re fighting yourself, kicking your feelings aside; you can’t ruin a good thing, even if neither of you never figured out what this ‘thing’ is.
“I got you, c’mon, lemme feel you soak my cock,” He’s mumbling, eyes darting from your expression to where the two of your bodies meet, mesmerized as your hips stutter while he feels you reach what you wanted all along. “That’s it, just like that.” 
His praise sends you over the edge, choking back a scream and failing miserably, “M’close, so cl— oh, fuck!” You begin to tremble and pulse around him, eyes twisting shut as you almost throw your head back, but Steve grabs you in time— that’s a habit you really need to break— tugging you towards him and kissing you roughly.
Moans are muffled to whimpers as he melds his lips with yours, feeling his own high just in reach. You pull back as he continues stuttering his hips, thrusts growing sloppy as his cock pulses deep inside you.
You’re still riding out your climax, yet somehow manage to ask him, “You close, baby?” Steve nods as a breathy, sweet sound shudders out of him. Barely finishing on him, you push him back, just enough to pull off and sink to the floor.
 “Wh— ” Steve watches through hooded eyes the way you slide your mouth back onto him, tasting yourself as he pulsates again against your tongue; he takes back over, thrusting fully into your mouth while holding your head in place. “H- oh— honey, m’gonna—“
Steve’s moans are the sweetest sounds you’ve ever heard, breathy and vocal as he shudders out a string of expletives while he comes undone buried in your throat. Greedily, you swallow what you can, but it becomes too much; you pull back and hold his shaft, letting him finish on your face.
For a moment, Steve is stunned. He wasn’t expecting you to let him finish like this; you might look angelic to him, but that’s no match to your sinful demeanor and unholy desires.
“Fuck… that’s my girl.” His praise tugs at your heartstrings when you know it’s not that deep.
You can’t help giggling as he comes down, aware of the mess on your features, licking your lips while gazing up at him. You’re going to kill him, no ‘ifs, ands, or buts’ about it.
Though you never asked, he’s certain he won’t find anyone who compares to you. 
Dropping to the floor, Steve leans in to kiss you, catching you off guard he tastes himself on your lips, moaning lazily into you. Pulling you into his lap, his hands wind around your waist, knowing how gross the two of you are right now, but he needs you. Ignoring how he’s still half hard, he just needs to be close to you, to be vulnerable with you.
He never said it, but he’s absolutely positive he won’t find another friend who trusts him this much, another roommate who puts up with his nonsense, high or not, another lover who can laugh at the real and awkward moments during sex and still stay intimate. 
Your soft, drained voice breaks his thoughts, “Did that help, Stevie? Or d’you need more distractions?” You’re joking, but secretly wishing he’d say yes. 
Steve wants to say he needs more distractions, needs to fuck you on every single surface in this apartment, needs you to put him in his place while he promises to be good for you, be so good for you that you’ll throw out that goddamn vibrator and use him whenever you need.
Instead, he only asks, “I thought you said you don’t have much experience?”
Again, you laugh, and all he can think of is the way he could feel you laugh while balls deep inside of you. “I don’t, I just read a lotta corny romance novels.” As you stand, you hold a hand out for him and ask, “Wanna share a shower? Heard it saves on water, or whatever. Y’know, the thing you thought we didn’t have in the apartment.”
Grabbing your hand, Steve just laughs softly with an eye roll. “Yeah, you’re right, you definitely read a lot of corny romance novels with lines like that.”
It’s so comfortable, so natural, to go from such intimate, filthy moments, to joking so casually with you.
So while you lead him into the bathroom, while the two of you kiss lazily under the hot, running water, while he’s riling you up again with your back pressed against the shower wall, Steve’s so sure of one more, tiny detail with his feelings towards you: he’s fucked.
So, so fucked.
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throneofsapphics · 2 months
Text
finding you again prologue
Azriel x f!Reader
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summary: after he ended your relationship, you didn’t expect Azriel to pop into your life again - and you’re not happy about it
warnings: angst, drinking
a/n: here's the start to the mini series from this poll! if anyone wants to be added to a taglist, you can comment under here or send me an ask/message!
part one
“Why?” You ran a hand through your hair. “Can you at least give me a reason?” 
“I told you. It’s not working.” Pity shone in Azriel’s eyes, and it made you want to break something. There was more he wasn’t saying, it was obvious to you, just as it was obvious he wouldn’t deign to share. 
“Then get out,” your voice was colder than you’d ever heard it. Enough that he blinked, and it brought a sick sense of satisfaction to you. “Out,” you repeated, not sure how much longer you could keep the tears in. 
He backed up slowly, one hand reaching behind to open the door, before slipping out. You missed the lingering look they shot your way, already having turned your back. With the click of the door, you grabbed the nearest glass and launched it across the room, a guttural scream leaving your chest. 
-
He lingered in the hallway, listening to shattering glass, your scream of pure pain, and hated themselves for a brief moment. He hadn’t lied to you, it wasn’t working. 
Whether you knew it or not wasn’t of any consequence to him. He did love you, genuinely, and part of him ached at the pain he was causing, but it was better than drawing out the inevitable. He’d loved you, but not enough to spend the rest of your lives together. It didn’t feel right to keep going when he knew you felt differently.
Still, he had to fight the desire to go back in and comfort you. 
His footsteps were soft down the hall, the stairs, the street, to the night that left an uncomfortable itch on his skin. 
-
Everything seemed fine. Not a damn indication something was wrong, but you should’ve known better - he was trained to hide his emotions, to keep secrets, but for a few years you’d let yourself believe you meant something to him. Let that pathetic hope fill you, that it might evolve into something more, that you could be his one. 
His face flashed across your mind, unwelcomed. That pity, like you were some miserable creature that would be broken by this 
Maybe you were broken, right now, but you decided to give yourself a day. 24 hours, and then you’d pull yourself together. 
But for now … a perfectly good bottle of red wine sat on your counter, one wine glass left standing. It would do. 
-
His shadows, half with a mind of their own, still followed you - still trailed to check you were fine. It was normal, expected, of course. You’d spent a few years together, although in secret, it was natural he’d still care for you. 
But, after a year passed he started to … wonder. Had he made a mistake? Through whispers in his ear, he trailed your life. Healers training, like you always said you would, a few new friends, new lovers that came and went, and eventually your departure from Velaris - sent to an outlying island as a new healing post. There was pride, pride he didn’t have any claim to feel, but it persisted nonetheless.
-
Prythian shut down, and you were one of the few who knew of a safe haven - although you couldn’t speak of it, or recall how to access it. Velaris. Each time the word came to the tip of your tongue, each time it was prominent in your mind, your throat dried up - chest clenched hard enough you lost your breath. It happened frequently enough your friends worried there was some sort of medical issue, and you forced yourself not to think of it. 
There’d been one last command from your High Lord - to lie low, and stay away, with one image flashing through your mind - the Holy Mountain for all of Prythian. Now cursed. Four simple words, one horrid curse, and you were cut off from all of your family and the friends you’d known for years. 
After 45 years, you wondered if they would still remember you like you did them. If one day you’d hug your little sister again. Would she remember you? She’d only been 10 the last time you saw each other, a day before you left, your chest clenched, throat tightening. Before you’d left home.  
You’d ached to leave the city and explore, and now all you wanted was to return. 
-
He thought of you often. Stuck outside of Velaris, with no way back. Not for the first time, he resented the decision Rhys made to keep them away. He hoped you’d gotten some kind of warning, that you were still alive out there. 
Azriel found himself checking on people he’d only heard of in passing. Everyone who’d been important to you in your life. Your younger sister growing, how your name was always met with worried looks and hushed tones, how over the years she stopped asking after you, how you seemed to disappear from everyone’s minds. 
Sometimes he wondered if he was the only one who remembered you. 
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