#but I just love the process and chasing after ideas

[lenaellsi]

One thing that really gets me about the opening with angel Crowley is that he's not just excited by how beautiful his stars are, or how fun the process of creation is, or how impressed he's made Aziraphale. He’s not in it for the glory or the aesthetics. He’s actually horrified by the idea that the universe will just be "fancy wallpaper" in the future, even though Aziraphale assures him that humans will "marvel" at his creations.

What Crowley loves about his stars is their potential. He is building, essentially, a nursery. Most of the universe's stars, he explains to Aziraphale, will come pre-aged--but his are just starting out! After they're given time to grow, who knows what could happen! Good or bad, black holes or new constellations—there are so many possible futures ahead of them, and Crowley can’t wait to see what happens.

And then Aziraphale tells him that he knows what will happen: those stars will never grow up. They will never shine or burn out or implode or become anything new. They’ll be destroyed before they get the chance.

"You can't kill kids."

“Whose side are you on?” “God’s, of course!” “Same God that wants me to whack the kids?”

"People die." "They do, don't they?"

“Great pustulant mangled bollocks to the Great blasted Plan!”

"Don't test them to destruction."

"It's always too late."

"Nothing lasts forever." "No, I don't suppose it does."

This fear has been chasing Crowley since before the beginning. It’s what caused his first doubts, put the first traces of gray in his wings. He’s been raging at the futility of watching beautiful, complex things be damned or destroyed for his entire existence, and that’s why he seems to the audience and to Aziraphale to be a mess of contradictions.

He loves to follow the trends of the times, but he clings to his classic car in an era of planned obsolescence for vehicles. He lives in an ultra-modern flat, but finds his greatest comfort in the unchanging security of aziraphale’s old shop. He hates the idea of killing children, but is willing to see a child die if it preserves the rest of the universe and foils the Great Plan. He “goes too fast,” but his most unique and notable power is that he’s learned to stop time.

Crowley hates predestination. He hates divine intervention and the removal of agency. Crowley, the architect of free will, is constantly torn between his love of change and choice and potential and his terror that everything will be destroyed by an unstoppable, incomprehensible higher power. That’s his driving conflict in the way that Aziraphale’s is learning to find his own path without following Heaven’s rules, and I am fascinated to see how it resolves.

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ How Would The Slytherin boys React After you tell them you’re pregnant:✦ 」

[Mattheo Riddle-Theodore Nott-Lorenzo Berkshire-Draco Malfy-Tom Riddle-Regulus Black]

•Mattheo Riddle

1.Silence: You blurt out the news, a nervous flutter in your chest. Mattheo stares at you, processing the information. Don't panic! This is his initial shock absorbing mode.

2. More Silence: You try again. Still, silence. Don't take it personally; his mind is racing a million miles a minute.

3. The Disappearance Act: By evening, Mattheo might be MIA. Don't fret! This is probably him needing some space to grapple with the news. (Don't chase him to Knockturn Alley, though.)

4. Awkward Return: When he finally returns, you launch into a "what-are-we-going-to-do" speech. But wait! He cuts you off...

5. "Hey, it's okay” : Mattheo might surprise you with a calm demeanor. This doesn't mean he isn't nervous, but he's trying to reassure you (and maybe himself).

6. "I want it too." : Prepare for a confession! Mattheo, the king of nonchalance, might admit he wants this, with you. This might be followed by an apology for his earlier silence."Sorry, I was just shocked earlier. Shouldn't have reacted that way."

7. Confusion Reigns: "You're not mad?" you finally manage to ask, a sliver of doubt lingering.He might confess he's clueless about the whole "No," he says, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. "It's just... I never thought about this stuff. Family, kids, the whole shebang. But if I'm gonna do it, I want it to be with you."  _Cue the tiny butterflies in your stomach._

8. "But with you.":He might clarify that while the whole baby thing is new, having it with you? That's something he can do.

9. Protectiveness Unleashed: Expect a shift in Mattheo. He might become fiercely protective of you and the little one on the way. (Just don't tell him it's "nesting" if he starts building a barricade around your house.),Mattheo will hover over you, insisting you take prenatal vitamins and threatening to glare down any stranger who bumps into you. It's annoyingly sweet.

10.The (Slight) Freak Out (Because It's Mattheo): Don't get too comfortable yet. There will be moments of panic. Mattheo might blurt out something about not knowing the first thing about raising a kid, or how motorbikes suddenly seem like a terrible idea. Just remind him that you're in this together, crazy as it may be.

•Theodore Nott

1. Reality Check?: Theo might blurt out, "Are you sure?" It's not doubt about your love, but the sheer unexpectedness of it all. Breathe, and calmly confirm with that positive blood test result.

2. Freak-Out Time: Picture a cartoon character with smoke billowing from their ears. That might be Theo, internally freaking out. Don't worry, it's normal (though maybe not that dramatic).

3. Parental Apocalypse?: "Your dad will kill me!" Theo might shriek, envisioning a future father-in-law wielding a shotgun.

4. Waterworks Warning: Tears might well up in your eyes, a mix of emotions swirling. He will put everything beside and try to comfort you.

5. Protective Streak: Expect a dramatic shift. Theo, the notorious rule-breaker, might turn into a fierce protector, ready to shield you from any and all perceived threats.

6. Reassurance Renaissance: He'll rush to your side, muttering reassurances like "Hey, I'm here" and "I'll be here every step of the way." "I might be freaking out internally, but I'm not going anywhere."

7. "We" is the New Word: The "me" might temporarily disappear, replaced by a constant "we." He might start talking about "our baby" and "what we need to do.".

8. Fear is a Two-Way Street: Theo might confess he's scared too. Don't be surprised; fatherhood is a big leap for anyone. Reassure him you're in this together.

9. Facing the Future, Together: Theo might not be known for responsibility, but this news could be a turning point. He might surprise you with his determination to navigate this journey with you.

10.A (Slightly Chaotic) New Chapter: Yes, there will be challenges. But with Theo by your side, even the most chaotic moments of pregnancy and parenthood can turn into an unforgettable adventure (well, maybe not all the diaper changes).

•Lorenzo Berkshire

1. Record Scratch Moment: "Excuse me, what?" Lorenzo might look like a record player with a skipped track. Don't worry, the information overload will clear soon.

2. Baby Talk Confusion: He might blurt out, "Pregnant? Like...with a baby, like a real baby ?"

5. The F-Bomb Symphony: Brace yourself for a chorus of "Oh fuck!" Lorenzo might panic a bit, but hey, at least he acknowledges the reality.

6. Apology Avalanche: Prepare for a barrage of "I'm so sorry for putting a baby on you." It's not guilt-tripping, just Lorenzo's awkward way of expressing concern.

7. Decision Time: He might cut through the tension with a simple, "Okay, what do we do?" Don't be fooled by his bluntness; he's ready to face this together. He might surprise you with a genuine, "I want it. Do you?" Expect a hint of nervousness, but mostly a determination to be a part of this.

8. Family Gathering Fiasco: Prepare for a potential meltdown when it comes to telling your families. He might blurt out, "I'm pregnant!" before you can correct him. Just take a deep breath and handle the announcement yourself later.

9. Overprotective Overload: Expect Lorenzo to morph into your personal bubble wrap. Lifting a box? Forget it. Climbing stairs? Hold on, he's got you. You might need to remind him you're not made of glass .

10. Google Goes Dad Mode: One night, you might catch him researching "how to take care of a pregnant woman" , “ How to be a good dad “ on his phone. Aww, just don’t cry you will freak him out again.

•Draco Malfy

1. Denial is a River in Egypt:  His first response? "You're lying." Don't panic. This is classic Draco, clinging to disbelief. Prepare to show him the pregnancy test, the blood test… anything to pierce his denial bubble.

2."Look Away, Not At It!": He might stubbornly refuse to even glance at the evidence. Don't take it personally; it's his defense mechanism malfunctioning.

3. Accusatory Tirade: Brace yourself for a verbal explosion. He might accuse you of lying, of trapping him, of using his family name. Remember, fear often masquerades as anger in Draco's world.

4. Protection Spells on His Pants?: He might insist he used every protection under the sun. Don't get into a magical contraception debate. Just try to explain accidents happen.

5. The Ejector Seat Option: Draco might bluntly tell you to leave. It's a knee-jerk reaction, not a reflection of his true feelings (hopefully!).

6. Standing Your Ground: Here comes the hard part. You tell him you're keeping the baby, with or without him. This might be the first crack in his emotional armor.

7. A Continent Away From Chaos: Fearing his reaction and the uncertainty of it all, you flee to another country. Girl, we feel you! But remember, you're not alone in this.

8. A Connection You Can't Deny: Despite the fear, you feel a powerful bond with the tiny life growing inside you. This little one deserves a chance, and you vow to protect them.

9. The Redemption Knocks: Two months later, a frantic pounding on your door jolts you awake. You open it to find a desperate Draco, his face etched with worry.

10. A Malfoy Regret-Fest: He confesses he searched everywhere for you, regret gnawing at him. When he learns you fled, the dam breaks. He apologizes profusely, begging you to tell him you kept the baby.

A Second Chance, Malfoy Style:

Relief washes over you as you nod, tears welling up. He wipes them away, muttering, "It's still ours. I'm so sorry. I'll never hurt you or our baby again." A genuine plea hangs in his voice.

“ Do you still love me?“ A shaky nod escapes your lips. He pleads for forgiveness, for a chance to be part of this family he never knew he craved.

This might be the start of a rocky but redemptive journey for both of you. Draco, beneath his icy exterior, might surprise you with his capacity for love and growth. Just remember, keep a communication charm handy – navigating fatherhood with Draco will likely be an… interesting adventure.

•Tom Riddle

1. The Stoic Facade: Don't be surprised if Tom remains eerily calm. His usual mask of control might slip not an inch, leaving you wondering what's going on behind those eyes.

2. Tears: A flood of emotions might be coursing through you, but Tom? His reaction might be a chilling calmness. This doesn't mean he's unfeeling, just that he processes things differently.

3. Misinterpreting Your Distress: Seeing you cry, Tom might jump to a chilling conclusion. "Is having a baby with me that terrifying?" Here comes the part where you clarify.

4. Guilt by Association: A quick "No, no!" will hopefully ease his worry. But then you blurt out your fear – you're both too young.

5. Age is Irrelevant: Tom operates on a different timeline. Age is just a number, and power? That's the real currency. He might say, "It's not about age, it's about power."

6. Power Trip for Three?: Brace yourself for a Tom Riddle monologue about the immense power your child could possess. He might see it as an extension of his own ambitions, a prodigy groomed for greatness.Don't be afraid to voice your anxieties. When you say, "Tom, I don't want my baby to be part of your plans," he might actually listen.

6. A Promise, Riddle-Style: “I promise you, I will keep them safe. I will keep you safe." But remember, Tom's definition of "safe" might not align with yours. Stay frosty.

7. Your Fears Take Center Stage: Tears welling up again? This might be the moment it dawns on Tom that you're not thrilled about the power angle. He might try to reassure you, but...

8. Promises with a Price: Tom doesn't give anything without expecting something in return. Be prepared for him to outline his expectations for your role in his grand plan.

9. A Tug-of-War for the Future: This is where things get interesting. Do you submit to his vision, or do you fight for a different future for your child? The choice is yours.

10. A Dance with Darkness: Having a child with Tom Riddle is a gamble. He might be a captivating presence, but remember, his path is paved with darkness. Are you willing to walk it with him?

•Regulus Black

1. Denial Dance: Regulus might stammer, "No, no," backing away like a cornered cat. This isn't about you; it's pure terror. Don't take it personally.

2. Touch-Starved Panic: You reach for his hand, but he flinches. Give him space for now.

3. The Talk: Regulus might utter the dreaded words, "You need to get rid of it." This comes from a place of fear for the child, not for himself.

4. Mama Bear Mode Activated: Your eyes widen. "No, Reg!" you declare, ready to defend your little bean.And It might be the wake-up call he needs. Witnessing your distress could trigger his protective side.

5. Black Family Fears: Regulus might unload about the Black family legacy, a breeding ground for misery. He fears bringing a child into that darkness."This family… it's torture. A child here wouldn't stand a chance." This is Regulus' way of expressing his fear for your child growing up under the Black banner. He might confess his fear of becoming his parents.

6. Us Against the World: You counter with, "It's our baby, Reg. We'll protect him/her." This might be the turning point.

7. Surprise: Regulus, in a rare show of vulnerability, pulls you into a hug. Hold him tight. He needs reassurance as much as you do.

8. Fearful Love: He might apologize, admitting he's scared for you and the baby. Reassure him you're in this together.

9. Escape Plan Hatched: Regulus suggests raising the child away from the Black family's clutches. This might be the most un-Regulus thing ever, and a good sign.

10. Surprise Dad Mode: Fast forward a few months. Regulus, who "didn't want" the baby, is secretly buying tiny clothes and setting up a nursery. And suddenly, bedtime stories and tea parties are in his future.

“Daddy's Little Girl”The moment he finds out it's a girl, prepare for a meltdown (of the happy kind!).

The magic deepens when your daughter recognizes his voice from within the womb. Witnessing the connection between them, a shared language before she even arrives, will fill your heart.

Late nights spent with Regulus talking softly to his daughter, his voice thick with newfound love, will paint a picture of a future you never dared to dream of. Maybe, just maybe, this family you're creating is exactly what Regulus craved – a love that defies darkness and a happiness he deserves.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[youraveragecatastrophe]

[Image description : three drawings of characters from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego, lined with black ink and colored with pencils. Carmen is wearing a striped shirt with the colors of the original Gilbert Baker flag, and she and Player are draped with a large transgender flag. They are looking at each other and smiling. Julia, her hands in her pants' pockets, wears a brown leather jacket and a horizontally-striped shirt the colors of the lesbian flag. She is looking at the viewer and smiling. Devineaux, his hands on his hips in a proud posture, wears a vintage-styled jacket in the colors of the transgender flag. /End description]

To cap off this pride month, a few of my queer headcanons for Carmen Sandiego (2019) characters!

I headcanon Player as a trans boy and Carmen as a trans woman! I also definitely think Carmen's sapphic but I don't have a more specific identity in mind for her.

Julia is a lesbian ofc. Her shirt is inspired by this retro lesbian shirt! If I had seen it before inking I would have made it an actual shirt with a collar and all but alas I saw it too late.

And I headcanon Devineaux as a trans man. His jacket was heavily based on this vintage jacket, obviously with the colors reworked. That's his new lucky coat probably.

(I have headcanons for other characters but since they're less fixed I won't talk about them here)

[mrs-kelly]

I keep thinking about how flattered and giddy and happy Charlie would be that I picked him in my dream ahdjfl like if I told him the big speech I gave James about how Charlie is my soulmate and the love of my life and I’ll never love anyone else, it’d be like he was on a rocket shooting up to space!

The idea that I love him is already so overwhelming for him at times. Imagine how he feels knowing that I love him so much that I would pick him over an f/o that mattered that much to me. That I would straight up look in James’ eyes and tell him that we were through. Forever. All because of how much Charlie means to me. Charlie would be over the moon ahdjffl

[dropespeon]

i truly think that if ginzou learned how to do magic it would do sooo much good for him

[dois-funnyzone]

mainly just talking to myself here about a random thing i remembered, this isnt a pressing issue at all lolol just my brain doing its thang

when i was still browsing the cesspool that was instagram reels there was a trend going around that was like, "guess my age based on how i draw eyes" or something like that. i feel like "guess my age based on my art" is also a part of this general trend.

its probably long dead by the time i write this, but i started thinking that maybe the premise of that trend is just inherently flawed. the idea of "can you gauge how old i am based on my style/how i draw x" kinda implies, to me at least, that there is some kind of correlation between age and how you draw. like someone with a very anime influenced style or with some amateurish/not fully developed techniques are around the young teen age range for example.

maybe its cuz a lot of online artists fall into the "ive been drawing since i was a toddler but only took art ~seriously~ when i was a teen (approximately around the anime/furry/what have you phase or just when you got a social media account. i say this as someone who falls into that category btw)" timeline of art development, so everyone's habits roughly fall around the same age range i guess??? but then i feel like we're ignoring people who post art online that like,,, didnt start developing their style til they were like, a young adult. i feel like it ignores people who are adults but arent like, grandmaster level yet lmao. adult artists who really are just starting out and therefore dont have as much practice as ppl who have held a crayon to draw with right outta the womb. and even then the latter group develop at different paces! so it feels like trying to name an age just by looking at someone's art just feels sort of pointless cuz skill doesn't really come with how old you are, it comes with how long you've been drawing and whatnot. if im makin sense. basically the trend that ive observed only really applies to a specific group of people and their general timeline of how they began developing their art, so the trend just feels kinda nothing.

also... guessing someone's age means Nothing. like, i show off how i draw my eyes, someone names a number or range they think is accurate... now what. do i giggle and cackle to myself when they guess wrong? what does it mean when someone guesses younger? i dont really get the whole idea behind it, even disregarding the stuff i mentioned previously. cuz again, age doesnt really correlate to art skill for most people??

i showed my art off to some friends on discord and someone said, based on how i draw the orbs, im in my early 20s. thats cool i guess. not really accurate. what does it mean tho???? that im like, pretty skilled but also not? i dont know. its a number. i guess. tho im probably overthinking it

kinda weird prompt for a trend

[dreamlifebunny]

how to script your dream life and use it with any method!

hello friends! today i want to share with you how i personally script my dream life, and how this script is both my void list, states list, and precursor to almost every manifestation method i've ever used. i love scripting because it is not only a method in and of itself but it is also a simple list of everything you desire that you can now manifest using any method you love!

check back later for a link to my scripting templates. in the meantime, here are the steps to creating your perfect script from scratch with examples! all you need is a place to write it down.

step one:

time to brain dump! at the top of your page, write out every desire that comes to your head in list format. don't overthink it and don't worry if they sound silly or unrealistic; remember, absolutely anything is possible! you can write out a few desires to start or go hardcore and write out hundreds, whatever you feel inspired by. you can always come back to this step later. here is my example:

step two:

now its time to get organized! look at the desires you've written and figure out what subcategories they fall under. for example, "my eyes are light blue and gorgeous" could fall under the category of "appearance," and "i have $100,000 in my bank account" could fall under the category of "wealth and items." feel free to use any category name that makes sense to you.

step three:

now that you have a couple of categories written out and understand the structure of the script, your mind might start to have even more ideas. "ooh, now that i see revision is a category, there are a couple more things i'd like to revise..." or "why stop at one SP when i could have everyone chasing after me?" for step three, we go a little deeper into these categories and add more details of what our dream life will look like. you can also add new categories that pop into your head - in the example below, i've added "the world and society" and "skills and abilities."

note: the reason why i broke this up into multiple steps instead of just writing "write out all your desires at once" is because our brains can be mean to us and make us procrastinate if something isn't done "perfectly," so that's why adding an extra step is important to bypass the perfectionism.

optional steps:

because scripting is such a creative and expansive process, we might think of ideas we'd like to manifest in the future but not right now/not instantly. i like to organize my script further by adding another category: "future manifestations." these are ideas that i would love to manifest at some point later on but not necessarily while my dream life is manifesting right now.

another idea is separating categories even further into "instant manifestations" (manifestations that happen right now without things needing to unfold) or "perfect timing manifestations" (manifestations that slowly unfold naturally and linearly), if you want to get specific about how they show up in your life! however, these steps are completely optional and just fun details for specificity, and i can make a more detailed post on this later.

how you can use your script with any method:

scripting has been used as a successful manifesting and shifting method on its own forever because it specifically addresses one of the most important steps in the manifesting process - deciding what you want! by writing out what you want in your dream life, you can now decide that your script will manifest on its own or you can use any method under the sun to fulfill yourself within:

the void state: if you enter the void state to manifest, you could affirm "i have everything in my dream life script"

affirming: you can affirm "everything in my dream life script has come true"

visualization: you could create an imaginative scene where all of your desires from your script are fulfilled, or you can imagine looking at your script and smiling because everything came true

subliminals: you can create a very simple subliminal where all of your desires are included, or even a sub where the only affirmation is "i have everything in my dream life script"

the possibilities with scripting are absolutely endless. i hope that this guide has given you the inspiration and direction to write your own wonderful and unique script. now, go and get your dream life!

have fun! bunny 💕

[bomertheshark]

Riding

A Nanami Kento x top male reader

Short

You can’t quite remember how you got to this point. The very man who you had been chasing for ages now was now bouncing up and down your cock in pure bliss… what the hell happened?

You had an infatuation with a man named Kento Nanami, he had been working at your firm for some time now. You met him when he was a new guy since you were the assistant of the guy who had to show him the ropes. You thought he was a nice enough person, not too talkative but still not timid. The only real conversation you had was at a company dinner. You had been sitting across from each other and decided to strike up a conversation with him. Through out the entire night you both talked about this and that as he drank, you never drank much so you decided that tonight was not the night to try and hold your own. You learned a lot about him that night since his lips had gotten loose from the alcohol, and you suppose that’s when it all started. You spent months after that trying to get him to date you. You weren’t shy about it either, you came out and just confessed of course he thought you were joking but that didn’t matter to you, you never stopped flirting with him. You would talk to him everyday going out of your way to have lunch with him and other things to try and court him.

“Listen I think you should stay for dinner, I know it’s a cliche you know, stay for dinner cause it’s raining and I’ll confess my love to you that whole thing. But I just think it’ll be safer and we spent a long time on this project and I think we could use a break, plus you already know I like you and I’m one hell of a cook. And it’s not like this overtime or anything. ” You said moving around your kitchen to start preparing for the meal. “I suppose it’s fine, just don’t try to get me to stay any later than that.” He said as a response while going to sit down at the island.

After making the dish and serving it you sat across from him and ate in silence. “Is there anything you’d like to drink while we eat? I have wine, beer, champagne, water and some soft drinks.” You said after swallowing a bite of your food. “Some wine would be nice, preferably red.” He said in response “yeah I have some Saldo… does that work?” “That’s perfectly acceptable.” You poured the both of you some Saldo albeit you have yourself less just so that you could keep a clear mind in your own home.

Time had passed and you had finished one bottle of the Zinfandel. You cleared the plates and put them in the dishwasher. You were thankful you hadn’t had that much to drink as it seemed that your counterpart was having a hard time being clear headed. He had gotten up to help with the dishes but had ended up leaning on you and rubbing his face into your neck. To say this was embarrassing was an understatement, not only was your coworker probably drunk but he also happened to be the very man you had been attracted to for months.

“Okay Nanami I’m sure you don’t have a very clear mind right now so why don’t you sleep it off on my couch, I’ll make sure you’re on your way after you’ve sobered up.” You say to him trying to pull his arms off of you and start walking to the couch. He obviously didn’t like this idea as he whined a cling onto you tighter. Once you managed to get him on the couch you were turning to walk away and get the blanket that had fallen off in the process when he had grabbed you and you fell on top of him, he obviously enjoyed the position as he keened and started to wrap his arms around your head. This was a very compromising position for you, you could feel yourself start to get hard and flush. “Look Nanami we are coworkers and while yes I do really like you I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to do this when you are intoxicated.” You managed to get out of his grip as he whined and stood up. You have him the blanket and as soon as he got situated he fell asleep.

You finished the dishes and decided to go ahead and go to bed since Kento was already asleep for the night. You fell asleep pretty quick since you were exhausted from the work and trying to deal with Nanami.

You were having the strangest dream when you woke up to a weird feeling. It felt like someone was in your room, you looked at the clock to see it was 4 o’clock in the morning. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes you looked around to see Nanami standing near your bed, in confusion and a bit of fear you asked “what are you doing in here Nanami? Did you want to go home now? I can get up and take you if you really want to leave.” He didn’t respond just getting closer to the bed. “Nanami..? Nanami you’re freaking me out a little I can’t see you that well.” At this point he was now at the foot of your bed, you couldn’t see his face but you knew it was him, why wasn’t he wearing any pants…? “Kento are you alright?” He got on your bed, starting to crawl towards you as you backed up. “Are you still drunk Kento? You’re freaking me out man talk to me.” He was now straddling you peering down at you, you had put your hands on his thighs to stabilize him, when he started to grind on you you knew something was weird.

All of that led to now. Where the man who you had been chasing for months was now on top of you riding you like his life depended on it. With every rock of his body he gasped at how deep you reached. This was your third round and it was already day break. The both of you were sweating and panting, the pleasure that coursed through your veins spurred you on and you continued letting him ride you as he used your chest to stabilize himself. The view was impeccable. You couldn’t believe that you were experiencing this with the very man who you wanted to spend all of your time with. All of it was perfect just like him.

You were really hoping that this meant he would finally take you seriously and let you indulge yourself in loving him with every fiber of your being. But for now you focus on the time you have with him and not the fact that today is a work day.

I really hope you guys like this 😭

I’m sorry it took so long to post!

P.S Saldo is my favorite red wine 🫶

[loud-mouth-loser]

not him

summary: you’ve been steven’s best friend for a while and have had a crush on him as long as you’ve known him. unfortunately, his eyes are on layla, his alter’s wife. let's just say, you’re not the only one put off by this. this is a story of how you and marc bond over your sorrows.

pairing: marc spector x reader

rating: angst

warning: drunk kiss, one-sided pining, (kinda) cheating, angst, feelings (?)

w/c: 2.7k

a/n: sometimes you just need to feel needed

part two

----

Steven is the type of guy who has no idea what to do with his hands. But when it comes to you, he’s all hands on deck. He’s touchy and you think it’s partially because he’s touch-starved.

And you are too, but in a different way. 

Where he craves for touch, you simply cannot process the feeling. It’s foreign. Overwhelming. You’re just not used to it.

But you pull through it because you like him.

And he has no idea. 

Steven Grant, the most clueless man in London, gently grasps your hand like you’re not about to keel over from the mere presence of him. You never imagined yourself harboring a massive crush on your best friend, but it’s happened. Or, it’s been happening. 

Steven sees you as a safe and reliable friend – one that wouldn’t get the wrong idea if he were to cuddle behind you or play with your hair. And he’s right, in a way. You do understand exactly what his intentions are. And that is nothing. 

You’re one to never get your hopes up. Preferring to expect the worst so you’re never disappointed in the end. So you’re fine just being there for him because you’d rather have him as a friend than nothing at all. 

He’s adorable really. At first glance you may think he’s a quiet bookworm, looking for a nice spot against the wall to live out the rest of his days, but really, if you give him a chance, he’ll talk for hours. And you’ll listen. 

He has a higher-pitched voice than you might’ve expected. His British lit takes it up a notch and you think it’s endearing. He can go on and on about different Egyptian mythological stories, telling each one with details that you swear can only be known by those who were actually there experiencing them. 

His eyes light up with a sparkle of his own that you crave to see whenever he’s around. It’s that type of look that spreads his passion and curiosity to whoever's around. You’ve never experienced passion like that until you met him. 

And you want more. You’ll always want more. But…it’s too late.

Steven is taken. No – actually he’s married. Well, let’s take a couple of steps back, he’s actually two guys: Steven and Marc. 

Marc, the American pessimist, is actually married to a woman named Layla and has been for years now. He just decided to show himself out of the blue one day and now he’s part of Steven. Or he always was a part of Steven, just a hidden one. 

Steven, the romantic he is, quickly clicked with Layla and has been chasing after her like a love-sick puppy ever since. And much to Marc’s displeasure, he’s formed a bond with her.

“...And we kissed, can you believe it?” There’s that sparkle again. “I swear to you, she has the softest, most wonderful lips.” He drones on and on about Layla and you can tell it’s all genuine and innocent, which makes it so much worse. “She’s strong and brave, and possibly the most brilliant woman I’ve ever met.” 

She’s…perfect. 

The back of your neck prickles with heat as he continues, “I know I’ve only known her for a couple of months, but I think – no, I know that I love her.” There’s a tingle at the back of your throat that tightens at his words, threatening to burn your eyes with tears if you’re not careful. You swallow it back, jaw clenched to control yourself.

After a moment, his warm brown eyes bore deeply into yours, thumb rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand. You force a small smile at him, holding back the urge to pull your hands away from his. “That’s great, Steven. I’m so happy for you.” 

You’ve never been so jealous.

—

Turns out you weren’t the only one unhappy with the news. Apparently, Marc punched Steven in the jaw when it happened (meaning he technically punched himself), telling him to stay away from his wife, but, of course, that didn’t stop Steven and Layla from seeing each other after.

So that’s how you formed an unexpected friendship with Steven’s other half. It’s nothing like Steven and Layla, you are simply just friends. Disgruntled friends at that. Drinking buddies if you want to be more accurate.

You’ve shared a case of beer with Marc countless times. Steven sleeps early so as soon as 10 pm rolls around, you’re stuck with Marc. Well ‘stuck’ is a bit harsh, but being that Steven is your preferred company at any time of the day, it’s true. 

But you’ll admit, it’s not that bad. 

He actually talks to you, sometimes. You were surprised the first time you got him to open up about how he and Layla were married, but separated. Apparently, being the righteous man he is, he suddenly made the executive decision to move away for her safety, worrying that his work as an avatar could put her in imminent danger. No wonder Layla was less than jazzed to find out about his life in London. 

You knew a little bit about Marc and the Egyptian god, Konshu, but because it has never really directly affected your life, you’ve never fully believed it. The random bouts when Steven has disappeared, however, have been worrying, but Marc filled in the gaps pretty well while making sure to refrain from sharing any sensitive information. You realize Marc probably doesn’t have many friends he can trust with any information at all, so you’re willing to stay and listen like you would for Steven. And it’s fine. You’re content with the dynamic. 

Marc is just different. More serious, less…gentle. 

But don’t get it wrong, Marc can be enjoyable, even funny sometimes. Sometimes. He has this dry sense of humor that you never expected from him and sometimes it feels like he’s actually engaging in conversation instead of him talking at you.  And when he’s in a really good mood, he even flirts with you for the hell of it. You never take it seriously, but that is something Steven doesn’t like – and he hasn’t even seen the half of it. You brush it off, believing Steven is just being protective while Marc instigates as much as possible to get back at him. 

Tonight is one of those good nights. It started normally: Steven went to bed, Marc got out of bed, and you’re now letting old episodes of a sitcom run in the background as you trade stories about the horrible drivers you’ve encountered in the past. 

“ – Then the guy stops in the middle of the road, green light, and everything, and opens his trunk because he wanted to change his shirt!” 

Marc’s eyebrows are high on his head as he listens animatedly. “Right there?” His hand is wrapped around a sweating bottle of beer that’s half-drained already. He’s on his fifth, you’re on your third. It’s one of the heavier nights, but neither one of you mentions anything. 

“Yes! Right there!” You smile against the mouth of your bottle at the sound of his deep chuckle. It’s so different from Steven’s, but you still enjoy hearing it. Maybe even strive to hear it. You take a deep swallow of your drink then set it down on the crowded coffee table. It’s littered with books, bottles, and a few remotes for various parts of the tv. 

“Did you drive around him?”

“No, he was taking up two lanes with his crooked-ass park job!  Oh my god, people were so pissed, honking and yelling at the guy – He didn’t even care!” You like him like this, light and open, like everything in his past has evaporated off his shoulders. You can see prominent smile lines at the corner of his eyes as he laughs at the story. Sometimes you wonder who put them there. Steven or Marc. Or was it a joint effort? 

The energy in the room dies down as you close the story, but it doesn’t bother you. You just wait for him to continue the conversation, to do his part. That’s how this works: you speak, then he speaks, then you go again. 

But he doesn’t, not this time. 

You look at him, expecting a dumb question or controversial take on something like usual, but he just stares right back, eyes half-lidded. You’ve never seen that look before. 

There’s never any real silence when you and Marc hang out – and even when there is, there really isn’t. That’s why the TV is always on, so you never have space to think. Like really think. It’s like having music play as you eat dinner: the noise plays over the sounds of obnoxious chewing and utensils scraping against plates. 

You need that sound. Without it, you wouldn’t be able to sit here next to him. But sometimes it’s not enough. This time it’s not enough. 

This silence feels different, even as the muffled voice of the TV drones in the background. It’s unnerving and it settles around you, like fine dust over furniture. 

“Is that a new shirt or somethin’?” He sits up slightly against the arm of the couch, eyes sweeping over your body, “I swear, I’ve never seen your cleavage from this angle before.”

“Marc!” You cross your arms over your chest, “Stop looking you perv!” Your face blooms with heat, though it’s already quite warm from the alcohol you’ve been drinking. He has a teasing grin on his face, but his eyes convey something else. 

“Mhm…You wore that for Stevey didn’t you?” His words come out in loops, slurred slightly from the drinking challenge you had earlier in the evening.

“And?” Your ears burn as you confirm his suspicions, “What if I did?”

One of his eyebrows lifts in amusement, “You know he’s in love with my wife, don’t you?”

You frown at him, “Yes, Marc. I’m aware.” Your hand reaches for your bottle of beer if only to have something to look at other than those familiar eyes of his. The label is starting to rub off from the perspiration on the glass.

“Then why do you keep trying?” You feel exasperated. Why do you keep trying? You know Steven’s feelings and intentions, and none of them relate to you. You’re his best friend and he’s…well, he’s taken. You’ve never wanted to risk losing your friendship with him, but at the same time, you’ve never lost hope. 

“I… don’t know.” Your skin itches. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. Usually, you and Marc would spend a few hours taking turns talking about nothing then you’d call an Uber home and see Steven in the morning. 

“Well…He’s an idiot.” 

“What –”

Marc sits up, body almost leaning into your space, “Steven has no idea what’s right in front of him.”

“Marc,” 

A hand catches yours and you’re thrown back to that day when Steven told you his feelings for Layla.

You are sitting in the exact same position on the couch as that day: you and him, hand in hand and face to face. But this is different. This time Steven’s mouth is telling you exactly what you want to hear.  

“You’re beautiful.” But it’s not him.

Marc’s gaze searches your face for a reaction, but all you can do is stare back and look into those soft brown eyes. They have that sparkle. The same look you’ve longed to be directed at you since you met Steven. 

You almost give in to that look, wanting to soak in the eagerness flashing in his eyes, but you don’t. You try to take your hands from his hold but he pulls you closer instead. His face is barely a few inches away from yours. 

“We shouldn’t…” Your voice is low in a mere whisper. Like you’re sharing a secret. 

He smells like him, and he should, you suppose, but it’s still odd to think about how Steven and Marc share a body while being completely different people. 

His eyes are different though. His brows sit lower, almost grazing against his dark lashes, infinitely more intense than Steven’s curious look. He’s more alert, or at least, less tired than Steven. And somehow, Steven’s sleepless eye bags disappear when Marc takes control. 

But he also looks at you differently. At first, he didn’t look at you at all. He was standoffish, uninterested, and unimpressed. But now, his eyes bore into you and pin you in place. He’s more than looking at you, he’s devouring you. And you like it.

“We shouldn’t…” He echoes your words almost like he’s agreeing, but his eyes flit down to your parted lips directly contradicting your shared sentiment. “But I want to.” 

“I-...” He follows your tongue as it pokes out and wets your lower lip nervously, his eyes are nearly glazed over with desire. His hand cups your jaw gently and he slowly tilts your face to look at him. You lean into his touch, craving the feeling of his calloused skin against yours.

Your eyes flutter closed as he leans in, but the kiss never comes.

Instead, a soft sigh brushes your mouth as he holds you close, barely a few centimeters from meeting your lips. 

He whispers low with his eyes trained on your parted lips, voice strained with desperation and need, “Please…let me kiss you, sweetheart.” He sounds so broken, yet so sure of this. Like he’s been waiting for this his whole life. You let out a small whimper at his words, unable to hold in how much you want him. His forehead rests against yours, “Tell me you need it as much as I do.” 

You attempt to push against him, to capture his lips with yours, but he doesn’t let you. His hand keeps you just far enough to keep you from what you want.  “Please.” You beg. Rather than giving in, he parts even further from you and you’re met with that hungry look of his once more. 

“Say it.” He sounds so serious, his voice low and rough, but you can tell he wants it as much as you do. He needs this. He needs to hear it. 

“I-I want it.” Your hands come up to cradle his face,  “I want you to kiss me, Marc Spector. I need you.” The last word is barely audible as you crowd closer to him, nose nudging against his as you lean in.

You feel yourself melt against him as his lips meet yours, warm, soft, and bitter from the beer. There’s an unexplainable feeling that zips up your spine when he kisses you back, hungrily moving his mouth against yours. 

You didn’t know a kiss could feel this good. 

There’s a push and pull as you move against each other. As the kiss deepens with desire it’s abated by a softened touch as light as a whisper. You love the small sighs he lets out when you sweetly pull back, letting him chase your lips for softer, more playful nips. And then the deeper sounds when you’re flush against him, eagerly drinking him in.  

By now, you’ve been pulled onto his lap, legs straddling comfortably over his. His chest rumbles with a groan as your tongue brushes against his, desperately taking in his intoxicating taste. You lean further into him, needing to feel his body against yours.

Your hands drift from his jaw into the soft curls of his hair, tugging gently at the ends, if only to hear that breathless groan of his once more. His hands wrap around your waist and drop to squeeze at your hips, holding you closer as if you aren’t already fully against him. 

At some point, you have to break the kiss, if only for a second of air. You look at each other breathing heavily, wrapped around one another, unwilling to part any further. 

Silence hangs in the air, but it’s light. Barely even there. 

You look at him, and he looks right back, lips swollen with love, or at least the adjacent. 

You let out a breath, more like a sigh of relief, when you see it: that sparkle. It’s still there.

[bigfatbimbo]

Lute and Sinner!Fem!Reader

a/n — Taking an Idea I had from a request and running with it because I completely twisted it into something else in my head.

Summary — Lute has a very homoerotic rivalry with fem!sinner!reader in the form of vague headcanons and loose storylines.

Warnings — unbareable sapphic tension, mention of injuries and blood

Let’s start off with the obvious; Lute has no idea how to process feelings for the reader.

I mean you’re literally a demon from hell, there should be nothing appealing about you in the slightest.

Unfortunately for Lute, she found absolutely everything appealing about you and this pisses her off to an insane amount.

She would spend hours trying to justify it in her head only for every excuse to fall flat. If she wasn’t already practically pulling her hair out over this, now she is.

She finds herself looking forward to the next extermination more and more. The scary part was that the reason wasn’t just because of the chance to slaughter vile demons.

She wanted to see you. 

So what does every lesbian in denial do when they have complicated feelings for someone they shouldn’t? Start a rivalry.

Every extermination she seeks you out and fights you specifically

“You, vile demon! Come out here and face me!” She would absolutely make a scene as she is incredibly intense.

I feel like you would surprise her with being able to keep up with her fighting skills, or at least almost.

Like I feel like she would go easy on you at first. After all, she just wants your attention, she doesn’t actually want to kill you.

After a little bit she would actually have to start really trying in order to not actually lose.

Of course that would piss her off and turn her on at the same time, leaving her incredibly aggravated.

Maybe after a couple exterminations you would be already used to Lute and her shenanigans and you would play along.

“Hey, sweetheart, how’s heaven treating you these days?” You would tease while dodging her sharp spear.

“Don’t call me sweetheart, you demon scum!” She would hiss back at you, trying to hide her blush by violently jabbing her weapon your way.

I don’t think she would play along in your flirting at all. She wouldn’t even humor you, just get slightly more angry and flustered.

OH. MY. GOD. There would be SO MUCH unresolved sexual tension. 

Obviously Lute is too loyal to heaven to give into lust so there’s just a lot of pining, lingering touches, and bedroom eyes.

Threats are definitely the main love language here.

“That’s right run! I’m going to ruin that pretty face of yours when I catch you, you vile creature,”

“Aw, Lute! I never imagined you were such a flirt,” You would wink back, thrusting your dagger towards her in a swift motion.

She dodged it and fell back, “I—I meant with my spear, you sick pervert!” 

“Still called me pretty.”

“UGH, I’m going to rip your head off its shoulders!” she would storm at you and hope you dodge her blow last second.

If one of you ends up on top of the other while fighting, that would literally kill her.

You would both be so close, breathing into eachother, faces inches apart, lips slightly parted and—

“Distracted much, Lute?” You would raise your eyebrow and she would immediately switch positions and fall back into the rest of the exterminators.

I do think that as much as she pretends to hate you, she would genuinely loose her shit if one of the other exterminators hurt you.

Like she would be screaming at them.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You think you can just attack her like that and—“ She would realize how this looked and correct herself “—um, with that form? Can you do ANYTHING right, you useless excuse for a soldier?”

Then she would chase you off to where none of the exterminators are watching and corner you.

“I don’t have much time,” she would look over your wound, “Are you alright? Are you— are you bleeding out?”

“Well, I don’t imagine i’m in the best condition, thanks for asking,” you nod down to the where the angel stabbed you and glance back up at her. 

She looked off, almost like she was genuinely concerned. Her hands would hover over the stab wound as she assessed what to do.

“What’s gotten into you?” You would inquire, trying not to wince.

“I just— well, I’m—“ she would stammer, before ripping off a piece of her uniform and pressing it against your injury. You suck in breath.

“I can’t have my favorite enemy dying from an angel who’s not me.” She would finish, trying to sound cold even though her voice was borderline wavering.

“Sounds like you’re going soft on me,” You smirk weakly.

“Never going to happen, demon,” she would almost smile at you. 

There would be a moment of silence as her fingers grave your open cut and linger against your stomach.

She cleared her throat, awkwardly, “Apply pressure to the wound and clean it as soon as you can. You’ll be fine.”

With that, she would leave and go back to slaughtering demons, probably wishing she could have stayed with you.

a/n — smut of her later tonight because i’m obsessed and need her biblically (Haha)

Also you guys are so Once More to See You by Mitski coded.

[awfcspencer]

Wish Upon A Star || leah williamson x reader

leah williamson x pregnant!reader

prompt: your and leah’s journey to becoming parents.

warnings: pregnancy

Part 2

From the moment you saw your wife interacting with your nieces and nephews at your family’s Christmas party, you had a sudden yearn to start a family with Leah, knowing she would be the best mother. The kids laughed like no other as Leah ran around the yard with them, chasing them with tiny snowballs, ending in a massive dog pile where Leah tickled the energetic children. Your heart was warm and fuzzy, imagining your future children running around the yard. With Leah’s hair and your eyes, your kids were going to be the absolute cutest.

You and Leah had had several conversations about children before, but never including a time estimate, just an understanding that you both saw kids in your future. It was important for you both to always plan, especially with Leah’s sometimes crazy schedule. You wanted to bring it up to Leah soon, but only after she had finished rehab for her ACL. Leah had made a full recovery back and was playing some of her best football. The time had come and you were ready to tell Leah how you were feeling, desperately hoping she was feeling the same way.

Of course, Leah was a full time professional athlete, so you knew you had two options, adopting or IVF. It’s not that Leah was opposed to the idea of carrying, it is just that she had just made her return, and not being on the pitch was incredibly hard for her. Both of the options had pros and cons, but if it was up to you, you wanted to try IVF first. Growing a tiny baby with your own body felt like true womanhood for you, a milestone complete.

After a successful game and win against Man United, you decided to talk to Leah over dinner. You cooked Leah’s favorite meal and she definitely knew something was on your mind, she could read you like a book. You practiced what you were going to say in the mirror over and over, hoping to say the right words. But also accepting that timing mattered, and if it wasn’t the time, it wasn’t the time.

“Hey Lee, I’ve been thinking..” you start, looking over towards her as she was finishing up her last few bites.

“Oh that is never good.” Leah joked out before you could finish your sentence. You simply just let out a sarcastic chuckle and roll your eyes at her, but inside you were a bundle of nerves.

“As I was saying, I think I am…. maybe… ready to start a family” you blurt out, so fast that Leah almost did not understand you, words mumbling a bit together. Leah took a few seconds to full process what you had said. In your mind, you took this as she was about to break the news that she wasn’t ready. You start to quickly track back, feeling defeated.

“I mean we don’t have to of course. It was just a thought.”

Leah completely silenced your quick movings lips with a kiss. The kiss was slow and her lips were warm. The kiss lasted a few moments, only pulling away when you both needed air.

“I would love to baby.” she said as she removed her lips from yours, a smile from ear to ear.

Jumping in the air and doing a little celebratory dance, you were now excited. Pulling Leah in for another deep, long kiss. The rest of the night was spent on the couch using the internet to figure out small details and such. You found a good source of information and looked up where to begin your journey of starting a family. You had also read the tough journey of IVF, a few short articles on the dangers and risks, and how it can have many ups and downs, but with Leah alongside you, you two could battle anything together. The benefits would outweigh everything.

A few short weeks later, you both were walking into a fertility clinic for a consultation and to plan your journey. This was supposed to be the best clinic in all of London, Leah wanted to find the best location as this was important for the both of you, willing to spend top dollar to make your dream of starting a little family a reality

“Are you nervous baby?” Leah asked you, squeezing your hand slightly as she could sense your tense feelings. You had been completely silent in the car, not even Leah’s hand resting on your thigh drawing small circles could calm you down.

“Just a little bit maybe yeah. I just want it so bad but the process is long and a little scary.” you explained your thoughts to her, sort of trying to calm your own overwhelming feelings inside your own brain.

“Together” is all Leah needed to say as you repeat it with her.

“Together” you said back, pushing through the doors of the facility. This was not just a you thing, you were doing it together, you and your wife.

The doctors at the clinic spoke fast and used big words that confused you a lot. Leah was able to see the confusion written all over your face and started to ask questions and she even took detailed notes to refer back to later. At the end of the long consultation and exam, the doctor prescribed you a fertility drug to begin stimulation and to produce egg production.

You and Leah set up the next appointment. You realized that Leah was beginning to get busy during the football season so you understood if Leah had to miss a few appointments here and there, that was surely a downside to dating a worldwide professional athlete. But Leah expressed in great detail how important this was to her and how she really wanted to be by your side throughout the whole thing, so you planned appointments where both of you could attend.

The next few short weeks, you continue to take the medication and go in routinely for ultrasounds and blood tests to check on your ovaries and hormone levels. You knew that your hormone levels had substantially increased as you would snap at Leah but she would quickly forgive you, understanding the large amount of hormones coursing through your body. One day, you found yourself crying at a old man in the cafe that was sitting alone, thinking his wife had died and he was now inherently lonely for the rest of his life. Sobbing, Leah tried to console you as the entire coffee shop had began to look at you. Leah tried to point to his wife that had walked out of the washroom, indicating she was simply just using the bathroom. Coming to your senses, you simply just say, “Hormones” and quickly left the shop.

Next appointment was focused on egg retrieval, but beforehand, you and Leah began the dreaded IVF shots. They were specifically timed and had to be done everyday on the dot. On most days, you and Leah would do the shots together in the comfort of your own home. She would help you insert the needle and you tried to focus on anything but the needle in your skin. Leah would always finish the shot by placing a small kiss on the injection location and then a small kiss on your lips. There were a few times where you and Leah would have to leave a social function and run to the bathroom to insert the shot. You both were keeping the process under wraps until you had gotten pregnant, understanding that this process was long and could ultimately result in no baby. It was easier to keep it a secret than do the later explaining of the failure. It was also nice to keep the process just the two of you, the both of you in your own little bubble. Each night before bed, you would silently wish for you to be pregnant, for you and Leah to become parents. Little did you know, Leah would do the same each night.

Today was the day of your tiny operation to remove the eggs. The doctor explained the procedure and assured you both that it was a simple surgery and only a little painful. After the removal, Leah drove you home and showered you with love and kisses. You experienced some cramping over the course of the next few days so you spent a good amount of time in bed or on the couch, watching reruns of your favorite movies. Leah was absolutely wonderful through the days though, completely the extra chores and even trying to cook while also juggling training and matches. It was almost a glimpse of what life would be like if you were to be pregnant. Leah was an absolute sweetheart the whole way and you could imagine just how sweeter she would become when and if your baby arrived.

Once the fertilization had taken place, the transfer of embryos was next. After that, the waiting game began, waiting to see if the transfusion was successful, waiting to see if you two were going to be parents. This was the moment where the stress and anxiety had set in. If the process was a failure, you would have restart at the beginning, all the work done before would be erased.

You tried to be patient and wait until it was appropriate to take a pregnancy test, but the nerves were eating you alive. Leah was always there to help calm you down and convince you that everything was okay and if it was meant to happen, it would happen. Assuring you to let time take its course.

You felt as if your body was changing but you couldn’t depict if it was in your head or there were actual changes occurring. You had missed your next period but the doctors had stated that this was possible with the influx of hormones. Your emotions were everywhere and it was hard to keep yourself in check sometimes. You only felt the desperate need to take a test when you woke up back to back days with nausea and an overwhelming need to throw up in the morning.

The tests were stored in the cabinet and as Leah soothed you over the toilet after you had thrown up that morning, she grabbed you one, looking at your eyes and slightly nodded as she handed you the test. You sent her a nod back and began to take the test, it was now or never.

The next minutes, stood in the bathroom, felt hours long. Silence filled the air, and you and Leah waited impatiently. You simply flipped the test over, to not see the results, and set a 10 minute timer as the box said, interlocking each other in each’s arms. The room was tense, the weight of what this test could mean, both if it were to be positive or negative. The timer went off and it was now time to know. You hold hands and flip the test together at the same time.

“Positive”

“Positive” you both say at the same time. Tears filled both of your eyes. You both were going to be parents, there was a small bean growing in your stomach. Embracing Leah in your arms as you both cried, tears of excitement. Leah bent down to rub gentle circles on your stomach and whisper small affirmations to your now growing baby.

“Hi little one, I am your mom, Leah. I am so excited and happy for you to grow and arrive.” she said, only barely loud enough for you to hear. Your wish had finally come true.

[mysicklove]

thots on kitty!bakugou getting his nipples played with for the first time? feels so good it scares him, i bet. good enough to break down his sense of pride to beg for you to get your wrap? hehe

𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄

Pairing: Sub! Bottom! Cat Hybrid! Bakugou x Dom! Top! AFAB! Reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Pegging, HEAVY nipple play, anal play, mention of collar, katsuki swears in like every sentence, nickname "kitty", hints of sadistic reader, pain/pleasure play ig.

A/N: I kinda changed it up just a tad anon im sorry lol. but i loved this idea so much i had to turn it into a fic. damn another fic that is not a kinktober one, ughhh

Your kitty has a very sensitive chest. Of course, Bakugou would never tell you this. You have a problem with bullying him a little bit, poking fun at him until he hisses at you, or teasing his body until he cries from frustration. Telling you about his nipples is a one-way ticket to mewling under you. He's not taking that ride.

So he hides it. Relatively well too; he tries his best not to press his ears back and whimper when you accidentally graze one of the buds. Instead, moving your hand away from his chest either up to his collar or beneath his pants.

You never suspected a thing. Just how Katsuki like it.

"Kitty, I'm home!" You chirp, opening the front door with a small content smile on your face. Katsuki peers up at you from the couch where he was napping, a frown plastered on his face.

"Why did you take so fucking long?" He complains, automatically getting up from the couch, and making his way over to you. He leans slightly leans down, and your hand reaches up to pet him. His ears twitch and he lets a gruff sigh at the feeling of your fingers.

"Sorry, Kats. There was a car accident on the way home. Traffic was bad. But anyways, how are you?"

He pulls away from you before he starts purring, his pride getting the better of him. "Fine. Dinner is getting cold."

He walks away toward the kitchen before you can respond, fixing you a plate while you sigh and slump against the dinner table chair. He sits down next to you, and you thank him. He lets out a grunt in response. The best you'll get out of him.

Dinner goes down relatively quietly. Katsuki isn't much of a talker, and you were tired from the day. You needed a little bit of energy before holding a conversation between you too.

"Want to do it tonight," He says finally breaking the comforting silence. 

You pause, looking up with a raised eyebrow. He doesn't make eye contact with you, but his cheeks are slightly pink. He tries to act all bold, but both of you know he always is so embarrassed to suggest these things. A prime subject to tease. "Do what?"

His ears fall back and he glares at you. "You know what."

You balance your head on your hand. "Hm?"

"Want to...Fuck." He sighs, staring at his bowl with bared teeth.

"You want me to fuck you?" You say, now grinning at him.

Katsuki dramatically stands up from the table, his face now blooming red. He leaves the bowl on the table, and his tail sways behind him. 

"Never mind. I'm going to bed."

You are up in an instant, chasing after him before he gets too far. Without really thinking much of it, you reach out from behind him and grab his chest, pulling his back against your front.

Katsuki doesn't have time to hide himself. He feels your hands grip accidentally grip his nipple, and he whimpers. Loud and shakily, while his eyes furrow to process the overbearing feeling.

The two of you freeze, both with wide eyes. He doesn't dare to move, afraid of what you'll say.

You loosen your grip slightly on his chest, and he lets out a breath of relief. But you don't dare to let him go, now intrigued. Slowly, your hands begin to run over his chest, taking notice of the way his breath hitches when you hit his nipples.

Your face curls with a feral grin, happy to find something new about your pet. "Oh, Kats. You didn't tell me you were so sensitive here."

His ears are pinned to his head, and he gulps. "Fuck you. 'm not"

You gently pinch his right nipple and his eyes widen, a broken whine falling from his lips. "Hmm? You sure, love?"

"Don't do that!" He pleads as he shrinks away from your fingers and into your chest, afraid you'll pinch him again.

You press a kiss to his neck in apology. Then you grab his hand and lead him into the bedroom. "Let's go fulfill your request, yeah kitty?"

He stares at the hand and then you, nervously. He knows you are going to abuse him, and he's not sure if he can take it, but on the other hand, he really wants to be fucked.

He's willing to take the risk. "Alright."

You know too much. Another thing to hold above his head. How is he ever going to escape your cruel hands if his body is so complaint with them?

"Fuck you! S-Stop! The teeth."

Your mouth has made his way to his chest in a matter of minutes of the two of you being in the bedroom. He is laying limp against the mattress, and your finger is moving in and out of his hole, prepping him for later.

But your current fixation was seeing how far he can go with his tits solely. You are still working on the intensity, and seeming to how Katsuki is dripping tears, it's probably too much for him. Your teeth barely even grazed him. "My fault. Didn't mean to, shhh don’t cry kitty."

He clenches his teeth together and the back of his arm covers his face, embarrassed about the tears You begin kitten licking the nipple and he sniffles, being okay with this sort of pressure.

Gently, you reassure yourself and your fingers continue their prodding. He has already taken two of them, and now you are scissoring the hole. He was taking them well, moaning gently under you with no complaint.

You gently begin to to suck, and the cat let's out a shaky moan. Not a whimper or a cry, a better sign. Your other hand travels to his other side and you gently travel circles around the pink nub. His back arches slightly and his mouth opens.

“There ya go. See we did it Kats. Doesn't hurt so bad now, hmm?”

He gulps, slightly gripping onto the sheets from the prodding sensation and your antics on his chest. It's overwhelming him, and he is struggling to bite back moans. “Dumbass. Just be gentle.” His voice doesn't hold a bite, instead it's higher in pitch and shaky.

Cute. But he always was, unitentionally of course. His pride is to big to try to act cute sole for you (even if you begged him multiple times).

He keens when you press your fingers onto his prostate, clenching his teeth with his ears pressed against the top of his head. You immediately distract him from the sensation by gently sucking his nipple.

His eyes fling open in an instant, and he choking out moans. "Not at the same time!"

You ignore his pleads, and switch to the other side. He grabs the back of your head and grips onto it desperately. The feeling makes you wince, but you don't stop your movements.

Eventually when it gets too much for the cat, he forces you away from his chest. You glance at him, slightly peeved, but your eyes widen at the sight.

Tears are streaming down his face, and he's trembling. His ears are pressed flat upon his head, and drool slightly drips from the corner of his lips. He is shaking his head at you, slowly but full of emotions. "No more. No more. 's too much. Just fuck me already!"

You peer down at his chest to see both of the nubs swollen and throbbing. You have abused them for too long, and it almost made you feel bad. Your poor kitty didn't deserve this, but alas, his wet teary eyes made it worth it. You couldn’t help but bully him if he looked so cute.

But, you take pity on him, and grab the strap, lubing it up, along with his entrance. He bites back a whimper at the coolness, but you force it out when you press a kiss to his thighs.

You pull your fingers out and he lets out an obviously displeased noise, trying to follow the digits. "So needy," You coo, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes, but blushing.

Then you line the toy up to his hole, and his ear twitch. He gulps and stares at the silicon, trying to contain his excitement. You begin to press it in, and he sighs, closing his eyes.

Slowly, you bottom out, and the cat lets out a breathy moan. A finger travels up to his chest again, and he jumps when you drag it over again. "Not—Not again."

You lean forward, now completely above him, waiting for him to adjust to the length. You circle the bud and kiss his cheek when he whines out. "Cant' help myself. You're so cute, Kats."

"F-Fuck you! Stop teasing me," He warbles, his eyes hazy and lips wet from his own saliva.

You begin your movements and he clings onto you. His mouth flies open, exposing his pointed canines that you are so fond of. "Such a cute kitty with such an adorable, sensitive body. I'm so spoiled."

He shakes his head, tears dripping down his cheeks. "Just shut up, and fuck me!"

You giggle into his neck, and pinch one of his nipples. His whole body jerks and whines, loud and pathetic. He trembles under you and glares at you, which doesn't look threatening at all considering they are wet from tears. "Be nice Katsuki."

He doesn't say anything, afraid you'll pinch him again. Instead, he nods his head and wraps his legs around your hips, silently signaling he wants more and quickly.

You abide his wishes and quicken your pace, and he mewls out, latching his mouth onto your shoulder. You grin at him and kiss the side of his head, mumbling words of encouragement.

His grinds himself on the strap, and his eyes roll at the feeling of his throbbing cock rubbing against your stomach. Mixed with earlier teasing, he felt like he was already close to cumming. He grips onto you and begins to beg for you to go faster.

But much to his dismay, you don't listen to him. Instead, you purr in his ear, "Katsuki~"

He clenches his teeth at the thrust, but whines at your words. Something bad was coming, he could tell. "Hmm?"

"Touch yourself."

He doesn't hesitate to reach down and begin stroking himself off, but you catch his wrist with the first stroke. He gulps and glances at you hesitantly.

You stare at him, smiling softly. Then, you lean forward and press your lips to his ears. "Your nipples, silly."

Your pace hasn't slowed and he can barely process your words, but the way you drag his fingers back to his chest lets him know exactly what you want.

He shakes his head furiously, clinging onto you. "Nooooooooo. Fuck, they hurt!"

You balance yourself on you forearm above him, and use your other to thumb over one of the buds. He moans, slightly arching his back. "They won't. See? Gotta be gentle, love."

He looks up at you with a pout and teary eyes, but nods hesitantly. His hands travel down to his chest, and he uses both hands to trace circles on them. The blonde whimpers out, shutting his eyes to try to manage the strange mix of pain and pleasure.

You finally quicken your pace, and Bakugou groans, not knowing what to with his body. He feels the sticky feeling of pre cum leaking on his abdomen, but his hands are too busy to wipe it away.

"m gonna cum."

"Are you asking for permission?"

He wasn't, and the both of you knew that. "Y-Yeah."

You smile at him, pressing a kiss to his tear stained lips. "As long as you touch your nipples through it all."

He wants to protest, already feeling overstimulated from both of the intense pleasures, but he also wants to cum. So, he nods with a sniffle. You rub you fingers over his twitching ears, and he leans into the warmth.

The pressure begins to build up, and hes now gently flicking his nipples. Hes withering from his own ministrations, and the ruthless pace of your strap isn't helping at all. Every breath is a moan, or a whine, and he shivering. "Fuck. Fuck. Im cumming. I can't!"

"Go ahead, kitty."

His whole body contracts, and his eyes screw shut. It tears viciously through him, and he's crying out. Its loud, high in pitched, but cute.

His hands clench up on his nipples, so you lean down and press your mouth to one. His shaky hands find the back of your hand and he curses, back now arching completely off the sheets.

Cum leaks onto his stomach, and some onto yours. His tail goes pin straight, and his ears are pinned to his head.

His high lasts longer than usual, about thirty seconds, and by the end of it his clinging onto you desperately while you coo at him.

When he comes down from his orgasm, he is heaving, trying to catch his breath again. You gently pull out during this time and he lets out a small gasp, but other than that doesn't complain. He falls limp against the bed, his body sweaty and flushed.

You take off the strap and begin to wipe him down with a washcloth, humming softly in your work. You are careful to leave his nipples alone, knowing hell prob freak out if you even graze them now. They are puffy and red, and most likely throbbing.

"You with me Katsuki?" You say, glancing hesitantly at him, almost feeling bad about his chest.

"Yeah, I'm here, you brat."

You laugh gently, glad your cat is back to his usual antics. "Ironic," You tease, grinning at him.

He doesn't find it funny. "Hey fuck you. I listened well today! Even after you tried torturing me." The last part comes out as a mumble, pouting into his pillow.

Your eyes whole a sadistic glaze to them, and he gulps, wondering what you are going to say next. "If you think thats torture, oh kitty, what do you think we buy you some nipple clamps?"

He throws a pillow at you and hisses before you could finish your next thought.

[steveseddie]

shootin’ hoops

steddie | rated: t | cw: none | 4,6k | tags: eddie munson lives, but his clumsy ass gets hurt, worried steve, minor injuries, sharing clothes, first kiss

for my stficbingo prompt: “‘m just tired.”

click here to read on ao3

***

Eddie has always known basketball is evil. 

Over the years, he’s been smacked in the back of the head by plenty of basketballs, or smacked elsewhere by the dumb jocks that play the game. Only a few weeks ago, he was being chased by Jason Carver and his band of basketball-playing goons. 

So, basketball. Evil.

Eddie knew this, and somehow, he still agreed to “shoot hoops” with Steve Harrington.

Him! Eddie Munson! Agreeing to play the stupid game where you toss balls into laundry baskets! All because of his stupid crush on a boy.

If any of his friends could see him now, they would kick him out of the band and dethrone him as their Hellfire leader. 

Well, no. First, they would laugh at Eddie- currently starfished on the Harringtons’ basketball court having knocking himself out after the ball he threw missed the hoop completely, slammed against the board and bounced back straight into Eddie’s face.

Then and only then, after laughing themselves into a coughing fit at Eddie’s expense, would they kick him out and dethrone him. Can’t have your fearless leader succumbing to forced conformity or whatever. 

Luckily for Eddie, there’s no one here to witness how the mighty have fallen. 

Well. No one but Steve, the guy he’s pretty sure he’s in love with which is fucking great.

When he agreed to play, after Steve pleaded, pouted and hit Eddie with those deadly puppy eyes, he told himself it wouldn’t be so bad. He’d get to ogle Steve in his tiny little shorts, trick Steve into putting his hands on him to show him the right way to throw a ball and maybe even score a goal and shit and get a proud grin from Steve, maybe even a high five or a hug. 

But all Eddie has managed so far is to sweat through his clothes (Steve’s clothes actually- a pair of basketball shorts and an old Hawkins High swim meet shirt because the long sleeve and the ripped jeans Eddie showed up in weren’t basketball appropriate) and embarrass himself by getting hit square in the face by an evil basketball, probably giving himself a concussion in the process. 

Because- fucking ouch! His head is pounding right now.

Through the ringing in his ears, he hears Steve’s sneakers squeak against the court as he jogs towards him. “Eddie, Jesus Christ!” He gasps, dropping to his knees next to him. “Fuck, man, are you okay?” 

Eddie groans when he hears the concern in Steve’s voice. Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Eddie knows he’s flushing bright red and it’s not because of the midday sun beating down on them. 

“Eddie, come on. Talk to me, man,” Steve urges, slightly shaking Eddie’s shoulder.

“Just leave me here to die,” Eddie mumbles, keeping his eyes tightly shut, partly because moving his face hurts, but also because he doesn’t want to look at Steve right now. 

Steve huffs, shaking Eddie’s shoulder a little more insistently. “Nope, no way. I didn’t drag your ass back from the Upside Down to let you die here. Sit up, come on.” 

He tugs on Eddie’s arm, leaving him no choice but to sit up. Eddie hugs his knees against his chest, still not opening his eyes. He feels one of Steve’s hands settle on his back, holding him up in that position. 

“Good, that’s good,” Steve encourages, rubbing his hand up and down Eddie’s back. Because of that touch, Eddie can feel the flush spreading all the way up to his ears. He squeezes his eyes even tighter, even if it makes his face hurt, but Steve isn’t having it. “Now open your eyes for me.”

Eddie shakes his head, which is a terrible idea because it sends flashes of pain through his head, all the way down to his neck. 

“Come on, Eds, let me look at you,” Steve purrs in a sweet voice that settles deep in Eddie’s lower stomach. Then Steve’s other hand cups his cheek, gently turning his face towards him. “Please,” he says, stroking his thumb over Eddie’s cheek.

And if there’s one thing that today proved is that Eddie can’t say no to a pleading Steve. It’s what got him in this mess in the first place. 

So his eyes flutter open. He has to blink a few times to get rid of the blurriness at the edges of his vision but even then it’s hard to miss Steve’s big, worried eyes when they’re right in front of him. 

“There he is,” Steve exhales softly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a relieved half-smile. “Hi.” 

“H-hey,” Eddie stammers out. His cheeks burn even brighter when he realizes how close their faces are. Steve’s hand rubbing Eddie’s back soothingly while the other one is still cupping his jaw certainly don’t help. 

“Are you okay?” 

Eddie scoffs. “Oh, I’m great! Just wishing the Upside Down would open up and swallow me whole so I can like, die of embarrassment there,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. Steve makes an exasperated noise, either because he didn’t get a real answer to his question or because it’s too soon for Eddie to be joking about dying in the Upside Down. Eddie sighs, waving a hand through the air dismissively. “I’m fine, man, just hurt.” 

“Where does it hurt?” 

“My dignity.”

This time the joke does land and it makes Steve snicker. “Since when do you have any?” 

“Ouch. Kicking a man while he’s down, Harrington? Shame on you,” Eddie says with a laugh, which is quickly followed by a wince. “Shit, okay, maybe my dignity isn’t the only thing hurting. My whole head is fucking pounding, I think I hit it against the ground after the ball knocked me down.” 

Steve’s face pulls into a frown and the hand that was on Eddie’s back moves to the back of his head. “You’re not bleeding, thank God, but you could still have a concussion.”

“Of fucking course,” Eddie mutters, resting his head on his knees.

“We can get you something cold or I can drive you to the ER if you’d rather get checked out.”

Eddie starts to shake his head and gets dizzy so he aborts the movement, raising his hand to wave Steve off instead. “No, no ER. Some frozen peas will do the trick, good sir.”

Steve’s lips press into a thin line. “Okay, but if you start talking nonsense, I’m taking you there. I don’t care if you don’t want me to or not.”

Eddie gives him a lazy smirk. “How will you know I’m talking nonsense because of the concussion and not because I’m, you know, me.” 

“I know your kind of nonsense, Munson,” he says with a snort. The words sound almost fond to Eddie’s ears. “Now, let’s get you inside. I’m gonna help you up. Slowly, okay? You might feel dizzy or even like you’re going to throw up so- careful.”

Eddie squints at Steve. “You sure know a shitload about concussions, Harrington.” 

Steve makes a face. “That’s because I’ve had like, three. And surprisingly enough only one of them was Upside Down related.”

“Damn, dude.”

“Yeah, but at least you know I’ll take good care of you.” Steve shrugs. “Okay, come on.”

He stands up in one swift movement and offers both of his hands to Eddie, who grabs them and lets himself be pulled to his feet. As soon as he stands, his vision goes black and he sways forward. He would’ve face-planted if Steve didn’t catch him by his elbows.

“Woah, I got you,” he tells him, breath ghosting over Eddie’s face.

“Just need a minute,” Eddie mumbles, squeezing his eyes, waiting for the world to stop spinning. 

“Take your time,” Steve says, rubbing his thumbs over Eddie’s forearms, which only makes him feel more dizzy. 

When he opens his eyes, Steve’s face is right there again and he gets lost in his hazel eyes for a few more seconds before he feels ready to move. “Okay, I’m good.”

Steve nods, letting go of his arms but staying close to Eddie as he starts walking towards the house, just in case. They walk past the evil basketball and Eddie glares at it. He thinks about kicking it, just to give it a taste of its own medicine, but knowing his luck, the ball would probably bounce against the wall and hit Eddie again, so he just ignores it. 

In the kitchen, Steve heads for the freezer while Eddie flops down on a chair and folds his arms over the table, letting his head rest over them.

He jumps when he suddenly feels something cold press against the back of his head. “Motherfucker!” When he looks up, Steve is giving him a sheepish smile and holding a bag of frozen peas in his hand. “Dick,” Eddie says, snatching the peas from his hand and pressing them against the back of his head. He still flinches, but at least he’s prepared this time. 

“Is that better?” 

Eddie makes a noncommittal sound. The cold helps with the throbbing, but his head still feels like it was put through the wringer.

“Do you think you’ll be okay if I take a quick shower?” Steve asks. Eddie glances at him, who’s eyeing him back warily and biting his lip, probably worried about leaving him unsupervised. 

“I think I’ll live, man,” Eddie says with a snort.  

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” He stands up to leave but hesitates. “Call if you need anything.” 

Eddie can’t help it, he smirks up at him. “You’re gonna come to my rescue dripping wet and wearing nothing but a towel? I might call you just to see that.” 

Steve’s cheeks flare the brightest Eddie’s ever seen. “Never mind, you can die,” he says with no heat at all before turning around and leaving Eddie alone in the kitchen. 

This time when Eddie laughs it doesn’t make his head hurt nearly as much, which means that the frozen peas might be helping. He presses the bag against his face next, trying to dull the throbbing there as well. He sits there at the kitchen table, moving the frozen peas back and forth from his face to the back of his head until he starts getting tired and his eyelids start feeling a little heavy. 

He drops his head on his arms again and instantly starts to doze off. Eddie knows he shouldn’t, not if he has a concussion, but he’s tired, and taking a nap right now sounds so good-

But just as he’s about to, Steve’s voice drags him away from the brink of sleep. “Eddie, hey, Eds.” 

Eddie burrows further into his arms, trying to ignore Steve who shakes his shoulder a little frantically. “Eddie?” 

“I’m fine,” Eddie mutters, twisting his head to the side, towards Steve, but keeping his eyes closed. “‘m just tired. Want to take a nap.”

“Uh, yeah, no. No sleeping while concussed,” Steve says in that bitchy tone of his. “Eds, come on.” When Eddie doesn’t respond, Steve nearly growls. “Eddie Munson, I will drag your ass to the ER if you don’t open your eyes right now.” 

“Fuck, you’re bossy,” Eddie huffs, but he opens his eyes, giving Steve a look that’s supposed to say happy?

Steve’s lips press into a thin line. “Well, sorry for not wanting you to die on me again.”

It’s probably not Steve’s intention, but Eddie immediately feels bad. He might not remember a lot of what happened after the hell bats attacked him, but he knows that at some point his heart stopped beating from all the blood he lost and Steve had to perform CPR on him to bring him back. And unlike Eddie, he probably remembers everything about it. It’s not fair that Eddie is making him relive that kind of worry right now. 

So he forces his head up, blinking his eyes a few times so they adjust and apologizes. “Sorry.”

Steve’s face softens almost immediately and he waves Eddie off with a shake of his head. Droplets of water hit Eddie’s face and he notices that Steve’s hair is wet, water steadily dripping to the floor from the few strands that hang over his eyes. Eddie has seen Steve after a shower before but he always dries and styles his hair before coming out of the bathroom which means he skipped his hair routine today, probably so he wouldn’t have to leave Eddie alone longer than necessary. 

“How’s the head?” Steve asks, brushing his hair back with a hand. 

“Hurts but the peas are helping. Or they were. I don’t know where they are now.” Eddie frowns when he realizes he can no longer feel them against the back of his head, they must have fallen to the floor when he started to doze off. Oh well. “How was the shower?” 

Steve snorts. “Quick,” he says. “Do you wanna take one?” 

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “I want to but there’s a big chance that I will fall in the shower and crack my head open if I do.” 

He almost wants to risk it just to get rid of some of the sweat, but then he thinks about falling in the shower and Steve barging in to help him while he’s naked on the floor and quickly changes his mind. There’s only so much embarrassment he can take in a day. 

Steve nods in understanding. “Maybe later then.” He jerks his head toward the door that leads to the living room. “Do you want to move to the couch? Just because you can’t take a nap doesn’t mean you can’t be comfortable.” 

“Sure, man.” 

When Steve stands up, Eddie’s eyes end up at the same level as his shirt. Which, thanks to the familiar Black Sabbath logo, Eddie realizes is actually his.

“Is that my shirt?” Eddie asks even if he knows the answer. Steve would never own a Black Sabbath shirt, not to mention Eddie remembers turning his room upside down looking for his the other day only to give up when he couldn’t find it- because it was at Steve’s house apparently. 

Steve looks down at himself and his eyes widen like he’s only realizing now that he’s wearing it. 

“Oh, um, yeah, you left it here the other day. I washed it and left it in my closet to like, give it back to you, but I guess I accidentally grabbed it just now,” Steve explains, running his hand through his hair a few times. 

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie says, big eyes staring up at Steve in his goddamned shirt. 

“Do you- do you want it back?” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, man. It looks better on you.” And it’s true- Steve looks good in Eddie’s clothes. “Besides, it’s only fair,” he adds, gesturing down at himself, still wearing Steve’s swim meet shirt and old basketball shorts. 

Steve chuckles, ducking his head and saying a little shyly, “Well, those look good on you too.” 

Eddie twirls some hair around his finger and tugs it in front of his face to hide his blush. He’s ridiculously bad at accepting compliments, especially when they come from Steve.“

“Okay,” Steve says, remembering why he stood up in the first place. “Come on, to the couch.” 

Standing up doesn’t make Eddie as dizzy this time and he manages to stay on his feet without Steve’s help. Slowly, he drags his feet to the living room and then flops down on the couch, tilting sideways until his head comes in contact with the cushions. 

“No sleeping,” Steve grumbles when he sees Eddie’s eyes start to slip shut. 

“I’m not!” Eddie says, his eyes flying open and finding Steve raising an eyebrow at him. “Okay, maybe I am, but you gotta help me stay awake, man. Put on a movie or something.” 

With a frown, Steve says, “I don’t think you should be staring at screens or any bright lights right now.” Then he perks up. “Wait, I have an idea!” 

And then, without explaining any further, he leaves. 

In his absence, Eddie sighs and burrows his head deeper into the cushions, but before he can even think of taking a nap, Steve comes back. 

“I think I might be having like a concussion-induced hallucination because there’s no way that you, Steve Harrington, actually own a copy of The Fellowship of the Ring,” Eddie says when he sees the worn paperback that Steve is holding in his hand. 

Steve glances down at it. “It’s actually Dustin’s, man. Kid gave it to me forever ago, but I never read it. It’s not really my thing, but it’s yours.”

“It most definitely is, Stevie boy,” Eddie says, “but I don’t think reading will help my head any more than staring into a screen.”

“You won’t be reading, Eds. I’ll read to you,” Steve says with a shrug. “Now, lift your head.” 

Eddie pushes himself from his lying down position so Steve can sit next to him, but before he can sit upright, Steve tsks and pushes his head back down so it’s resting on his lap, the right side of his face coming in contact with the fabric of Steve’s sweatpants. 

Eddie is too stunned to protest or move, but he does subtly pinch himself, a little suspicious that he might’ve slipped into some kind of concussion dream.

With one of his hands, Steve holds the book open and the other finds its way to Eddie’s hair. He’d tied it up in a bun when they started playing, but it’s mostly undone by now. Steve carefully tugs on his hair tie, freeing the rest, so he can run his fingers through the curls.

It sends shivers down Eddie’s spine, makes him feel like he’s going to melt through the couch and into a puddle on the floor. He can’t stop the whiny noise that slips through his lips. 

Steve’s hand freezes. “Did I hurt you?

Embarrassed, Eddie just shakes his head no.

“So this is okay?” Steve asks, scratching his scalp. Eddie just nods, afraid that if he opens his mouth some other embarrassing noise will slip out.

Eddie can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Good.”

After that, Steve clears his throat and starts reading. 

Eddie quickly realizes that Steve didn’t think his plan through- he heavily underestimated how soothing his voice is, how comfortable his thigh is and how good his hand feels in Eddie’s hair. 

Within minutes, Eddie feels himself starting to doze off again, but before he can, Steve jostles his thigh, the movement waking Eddie up.

“Hey, talk to me so I know you didn’t die.”

Eddie groans, pinching Steve’s leg. “I hate you.”

Steve chuckles softly. “That’ll do.” 

After that Eddie starts to focus on the words that Steve is reading and it makes it a little easier to stay awake, mostly because he can’t help but correct Steve when he starts butchering the names of the characters and locations in ways that Eddie can’t begin to comprehend. It’s not until a snigger slips past Steve’s lips when Eddie tells him that it’s “Bilbo, Steve! Not Bobbin!” that Eddie realizes he must be doing it on purpose so that Eddie will talk to him. 

After a while, Eddie stops feeling sleepy and his head stops hurting as much so, instead of just correcting Steve’s pronunciation, he offers commentary about the book here and there and quotes the book as Steve reads it, which earns him a fond nerd and a playful tug on his hair.

After a few chapters, Steve complains about his voice getting tired, but Eddie isn’t having it, he wants to listen to Steve read some more. 

“You owe me, man,” Eddie says.

Steve snorts. “Me? I’m nursing you back to health, why do I owe you?” 

“Because you made me play with you!”

Eddie can hear Steve’s eye roll. “I didn’t, you could’ve easily said no, Eddie.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to snort because the idea of him saying no to Steve is completely ridiculous. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he blurts out, “Nothing easy about saying no to the guy you have a crush on.” 

Silence falls over them. Steve drops the book on the couch. His other hand freezes in Eddie’s hair. 

“What?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie realizes what he just said and his whole body goes rigid. Oh shit, oh fuck.

“Nothing,” he says meekly. 

“No, you said-”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did, Eddie,” Steve says, annoyed. Annoyed at him. Eddie bites down on a whimper- this is his worst nightmare, the thing that stopped him in his tracks every time he so much as considered telling Steve how he felt. Suddenly, he can’t keep his head on Steve’s thigh, he can’t bear to have his fingers in his hair. Eddie sits up abruptly, his vision swims, he feels sick. 

“I, I have a concussion, I don’t know what I’m saying,” Eddie mutters, sitting on the far end of the couch, away from Steve.

“Eddie-”

“Steve, please just- Ignore it, please,” Eddie pleads, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands coming up to cover his face. 

“I can’t ignore it-”

Of course he can’t. Your friend having a crush on you isn’t something you can just ignore. God, Eddie really fucked up. 

“Fuck.” He squeezes his palms against his eyes until they hurt. 

The couch dips as Steve moves- is he leaving? Eddie’s heart falls as he wonders, but a moment later, Steve is sitting right next to him, their thighs touching and their arms brushing.

“Eddie, I don’t want to ignore it,” Steve says, and his voice is unbearably soft. He doesn’t sound annoyed anymore, maybe he wasn’t annoyed at all, maybe there’s some truth to what people say about Eddie being dramatic.

“Why?” Eddie asks warily, but God help him, also slightly hopeful. 

Steve scoots even closer, bumping their shoulders together. “The guy I’ve liked for weeks just said he has a crush on me, why would I want to ignore that?”

The words have Eddie whipping his head back to stare at Steve so fast that he goes dizzy. His face pulls into a grimace. “Shit.” 

“You okay?”

Eddie waves him off. “Did you just say you like me? Because if you didn’t, maybe I do need to go to the ER because I’m hearing things,” he says, his wide eyes blinking at Steve.

He gives Eddie a sweet smile. “I did say that. I do like you.”

His eyes go even wider. “Holy shit.”

“Do you like me?” Steve asks, a little shy. “Or was that just the concussion talking?”

A nearly hysterical laugh tumbles over Eddie’s lips. “No, nope, definitely me. Maybe the concussion made me say it, and for a moment there I thought I fucked up, but I meant it, Steve, I like you so much that I ignored everything I stand for to fucking shoot hoops with you. I don’t even care that I got a concussion because of it!”

Instead of smiling like Eddie expects him to, Steve seems troubled. Eddie wonders if maybe he said too much. “What?”

“I know I probably shouldn’t kiss you while you have a concussion,” Steve says, biting his bottom lip and having the nerve to glance at Eddie’s mouth. “But I really want to.”

Eddie’s stomach flip flops and he needs a few seconds to remember how to form words because Steve wants to kiss him! “Ever heard of the expression kiss it better?” He asks, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a smirk.

Steve chuckles. “I don’t think it applies here,” he says, but Eddie can’t help but notice how he’s started leaning in.

“We can still try,” Eddie says, leaning in too, knowing that Steve is about to break. He thinks back on the puppy dog eyes and the pouty lips he gave Eddie when he asked him to play basketball with him and decides to give it a try, batting his eyelashes at Steve and sticking his bottom lip out. “I really want you to kiss me, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes go wide and his breath leaves him in a whoosh, Eddie can feel it against his face. “Fuck, you were right.”

“About?”

“Nothing easy about saying no to the guy you have a crush on,” Steve says, echoing Eddie’s words. 

Eddie starts to laugh, but the sound dies in his throat when Steve cups his cheeks and closes the distance between them, pressing their mouths together. Eddie whines instead, low in his throat, his arms wrapping around Steve’s shoulders and sinking them both back onto the couch. They’re touching in so many places, but Eddie wants more, so he opens his mouth and hopes that Steve takes the invitation. 

And he does- licking the roof of Eddie’s mouth, and angling his head to kiss him deeper. And it’s so good, it’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt, and for a moment, he actually worries that he knocked himself out on the court earlier and this is just some elaborate coma dream. 

But Steve feels so real- his lips against his, his shoulders under Eddie’s hands, the sinful noises that he keeps making. 

Eddie swings his leg over Steve’s lap, straddling him and breaking the kiss for the first time so that he can grin down at him. 

“I think we found another way to make sure I don’t fall asleep,” he says, eyes roaming over Steve- his red bitten lips stretched into a dopey grin, his hooded eyes that keep darting to Eddie’s mouth, the rise and fall of his chest, the exposed collarbone thanks to how worn the collar of Eddie’s shirt is, the mole-covered skin there that’s just begging to be kissed, bitten, marked up. 

“I changed my mind,” Eddie says, picturing what a love bite on Steve’s chest would look like and wanting to get on with it.

Steve’s hands freeze where they came to rest on Eddie’s thighs, his pinkie brushing against the bare skin after his shorts rode up. 

“Are you okay? Does it hurt? Are you dizzy?” He asks, earnest eyes darting over Eddie’s face, looking for any sign that he’s in pain. 

“Not about this,” Eddie says with a little shake of his head that makes his bangs fall over his eyes. He tugs the collar of Steve’s shirt down- his shirt. “I changed my mind about wanting my shirt back.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up, his lips tugging up in a smirk. “Well,” he says, voice dropping low, his fingers teasing the hem of the shorts that Eddie is wearing. “As long as you give me my clothes back too.”

Eddie’s heart stutters, warmth pooling low in his stomach. “It’s only fair.” Then he remembers something else. “You know, I could use that shower that I passed on earlier.” 

Steve raises his eyebrow. 

“But I still feel a little dizzy,” Eddie says, putting the back of his hand against his forehead like a fainting maid, waggling his eyebrows at the same time. “Think you can give me a hand?” 

Steve grins. “Yeah, I can do that.”

They both try to stand up at the same time, and Steve almost sends Eddie toppling to the floor but luckily manages to catch him before Eddie ends up with another concussion. 

After that, they make their way upstairs, to Steve’s bathroom, kissing and touching and leaving a trail of clothes behind them. 

Right before Steve closes the bathroom door, Eddie’s eyes catch the basketball shorts Steve just took off of him, discarded on the hallway floor and he thinks- 

Maybe basketball isn’t so evil after all. 

[sebscore]

MEET CUTE WITH THE GUY ON THE BUS | MICK S. 

pairing: mick schumacher x fem!reader

warnings: just fluff + i still dont know how to write endings so until i have figured that out, you are gonna have to deal with it :) 

author's note: based on this tiktok !! thought it was such a cute idea for a fic and mickolas was the perfect person for this- such a mama's boy!! 

masterlist

• • • • • • •

Sending telepathic messages to cute guys on the bus wasn't her usual routine, often staring out the large windows and observing the busy streets of the large city, but here she was.  

She took the bus regularly enough to know that the broad shouldered blond, who was showing his mother something on his phone, wasn't someone that took the public transport vehicle as much as she did.  

Y/N had been eyeing him the moment he stepped on, holding what she assumed was his mother's rather big and heavy handbag. 

Unfortunately for her, the young man wasn't glancing back at her. It wasn't a huge deal, she wasn't expecting him to get up from his seat and declare his undying love for her, but some sort of acknowledgement from the guy would have fed her delusions that would have her dreaming about him for at least a week. 

Her stop was getting nearby so she stationed herself closer to the exit doors, strongly grabbing onto the metal pole for stabilisation. The young woman increased the volume of her phone, the voice of Lana Del Rey blasting through her earphones. 

Y/N was deep into 'Cinnamon Girl', imagining herself to be in a music video, when a gentle tap on her shoulder made her turn around with force- flinching due to the sudden touch. Big blue orbs stared into her own eyes that had widened as a result of the surprising disturbance. 

It was the cute guy she had been shamelessly checking out from the moment he hopped on. 

''Uhm, can- oh.'' She had started speaking, but interrupted herself once she noticed him holding his phone out to her, his notes app displayed on the screen. 

You are beautiful. 

The mystery man had written out, a blush forming on his cheeks and ears as she read it, mouthing the words. Her eyes flickered from his phone back to him. ''Me?'' She took out her wired earphones, pausing her music. 

''Yes.'' He giggled, closing his phone and placing it back in his pocket. 

''Oh my- I thought you were so beautiful.'' Y/N replied back, getting a small squeal out of his mother who stood behind him. 

Her response had him grow shy, unable to form a processed answer back for her. However, the bus stopped and the doors opened. There was this tense air for a second that quickly disappeared once they realised they were getting off on the same stop. 

The three of them walked out of the bus, his mother staying a little behind her son- giving the flustered pair their space. 

The blond seemed too shy to tell her anything so Y/N took the first step. ''It was, uh, nice to meet you.'' In her head, this would be the end of their ''meet cute''. This is the part where they split and never see each other again- becoming a ''what if'' scenario. 

''Yeah, you too.'' He stuttered out. 

''Bye, have a nice day.'' She bid them goodbye, walking towards the direction of her home. The slightly disappointed woman put on her earphones again, re-starting her song- while texting her best friend about the interaction that just happened. 

Corinna bumped her shoulder with her son's. ''What are you doing, Mick? Go after her.'' She exclaimed, surprised he just stood still in his place. 

''I don't know, Mama.'' Mick doubted himself despite the obvious mutual infatuation with the young woman he had met. 

She grabbed her handbag from him and gave him a small, but effective push towards the girl. ''Go get her name and phone number! You're going to regret it otherwise.'' She hyped him up, knowing it would be a missed opportunity. 

Mick got a rush of adrenaline through his body as his mother gassed him up, chasing the woman down the street. He stopped in front of her, halting Y/N in her tracks and started speaking before the realisation of what he was doing caught up with him. ''Sorry, I just- can I have your name and maybe your phone number?'' He breathed out. 

The woman in front of him chuckled at his out-of-breath state. ''Yeah, I'm Y/N.'' She smiled, making him even more flustered. 

''I'm Mick.'' He introduced himself, shyly looking down at the ground. 

''So Mick, you want my number as well?'' His red face gave her a bit more confidence, asking the question with a grin on her face. 

He nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket. ''Only if you want to, of course.'' He added quickly, not wanting to come across as demanding. 

''I do.'' With her consent, Mick opened his contacts app and handed his phone over to her. She typed in her number, dubbing herself as 'Girl on the bus' on the display name. 

''Thank you,'' Mick dreamily looked at her contact details, ''I, uh, hope to see you again.'' He admitted. 

''Yeah, me too.'' Y/N beamed. She couldn't help but keep glancing at his face, his blue eyes practically asking to be admired. 

Corinna eventually caught up with them, giving her son a teasing look. ''It's very nice to meet you and hopefully, I'll see you soon.'' The older woman told Y/N, Mick's face turning even more red as his mother embarrassed him. 

''It's very nice to meet you too.'' 

[jadeslashes]

DBD request:

The killers (The Shape, Trapper, the Wraith and your choice 😘) having an unhealthy obsession with the newest survivor (female if you don't mind?)

includes: the trapper, the wraith, the huntress, the ghost face, the doctor, the legion (just frank), the artist, the cenobite, the executioner, the shape & the knight.

warnings: stalking, obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamics, you get the idea. no smut but still mdni.

note: first dbd request, thanks pookie <3 and bc this is my first dbd request, i'm just gonna include all the killers i write for :)

🔩﹒TRAPPER ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

obsession at first sight, evan has absolutely no plans of letting you get away from him, no matter what he has to do

even if it hurts you, he'll lay traps in your path to ensnare you so he can throw you up over his shoulder, have you in his complete control

and once you're in the basement, you know that there's no escape from him whatsoever

all of his traps are laid so there's no chance of rescue, and he faces you hanging from the hook that he's mercilessly thrown you on, glad to have successfully trapped his prey

🔔﹒WRAITH ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

philip finds himself using his guise of invisibility to keep an eye on you far more often than he himself even intends, crossing paths with you when he doesn't even mean to

whenever you're alone, you catch him sweeping by in your periphery, or hear in the distance a bell chiming

he notices your anxiety mounting with every second that he's watching, and in a way he almost feels bad about it

and when he's ready to chase you down, he'll ring his bell, almost in a taunting sort of way as you run from him

but he won't stop until he's got you

🪓﹒HUNTRESS ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

almost always, her first instinct when she sees survivors is to use her strength and speed, her hunting ability, and throw hatchets, anything to down them and bring them under her mercy

but the way she feels about you is almost similar to the way she feels about the children she couldn't bring herself to kill

something throws those instincts to the side when she sees you, she can't place what exactly it is, but she can't ignore it

💀﹒GHOSTFACE ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

he's always meticulously stalked people, gotten to know them without their knowledge down to the very last detail without their knowledge of his presence

but with you, his usual routine of becoming intimately familiar with victims for the purpose of killing them was interrupted, killing you was not necessarily his intent

unnaturally quickly, he knows details about you that few others pick up on, and you constantly question whether you're really alone

🩻﹒DOCTOR ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

considering the fact that he's completely sadistic, being his obsession is harrowing, beginning to end

especially because he doesn't see these feelings toward you as something he should allow to grow, he doesn't see it as any sort of love or anything romantic, which gives him only one conclusion that he needs to reach

he needs you dead, but he's going to drag it out, make it satisfying for himself, and the way to do that is to drive you mad, and make the process as torturous as possible

every scream of yours fuels him to keep going until his brutal torture is finally done, and by that point, he might even find that he'd gotten so caught up in torturing you that the rest of the survivors managed to escape the trial

🕸﹒LEGION ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

frank knew you'd be a chase, something he'd need to go after, but he's more than okay with that

every second of running after you is envigorating, with each stride that gets him closer to you he wants you more and more

both of you know that you can’t outrun him, he’s in a frenzy on your heels, completely running on the impulse that he hadn’t been able to get out of his head since he saw you; he needed to get to you

the chase doesn’t necessarily end with him plunging his knife into you, but he doesn’t mind it if you think that’s the case

in fact, he takes some pride in the fear and control he knows he has over you

🪶﹒ARTIST ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

while usually she uses her birds as a weapon against her prey, for you she'd be using them much more gently

you’d find yourself being harassed by crows throughout the majority of your trial

but it’s only so carmina can keep track of you, she doesn’t use them to cause you harm

⛓﹒CENOBITE ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

they're constantly using their chains to keep you in close proximity

and also just to hear you scream, no tears of yours could ever be a waste of good suffering in their eyes, they love your cries of fear and pain from whatever they're doing to you or when they're chasing you down

escaping their chains is virtually impossible, each second you manage to evade or hide to rest, you know you’re just putting off the inevitable

🔺﹒EXECUTIONER ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

pyramid head is a bringer of pain and suffering, but is also shockingly subtle during the trial

for a while, he’s merely a looming presence as you work towards escaping

but that’s part of the plan, he takes his time to get you tormented by his power

all so that he can get you locked in one of his cages, where you have no choice but to be all his

🔪﹒SHAPE ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

his stalking is relentless, but he takes his time before he makes a real move on you

and when he finally does strike? there's no way you could've ever been ready for it, one minute you were working on a generator, and the next, you're up over his shoulder with no way to escape

and even if you are constantly on guard, aware of his presence, he'll keep you under his mercy by keeping you injured or downed, never too far from you to keep your fellow survivors from saving you

⚔️﹒KNIGHT ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

even though he's the killer in the trial, as a knight, he feels the need to protect you, killing you isn't even something that crosses his mind

and if tarhos himself can't be keeping his eye on you at any time for one reason or another, alejandro, durkos or sander are doing so for him

he's got an uncanny ability to constantly know where you are and what you're doing, and that's because he's always keeping tabs on you, whether on his own or by means of his faithful three

[lovries]

A LOVE EPIPHANY

featuring. the demon brothers (lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor).

summary. they're so confused— you're sudden avoiding them/acting super shy! well, they don't seem to realize it's because you figured out you've got a crush on them!

warning. gn! reader, not proofread, levi on the verge of an anxiety attack, physical affection (asmodeus).

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── LUCIFER

"Lucifer? You called for me?" You couldn't meet his gaze, stepping into his room apprehensively. Your stomach was already churning, your heart doing flips. It was plain and simple, you had a crush on Lucifer. Of course, after figuring this out, you couldn't help but grow shy around him, trying to avoid him when you can. And he noticed.

"I did, come in." Closing the door behind you, you make your way to the front of him, shifting your weight from foot to foot. "You're not in trouble, no need to be so nervous." He teased, however you only tensed further. He had no idea at all, it seemed, that you were nervous for a completely different reason.

"Uhm, what did you need then?" Lucifer sighs when you don't look at him. Seriously, what had gotten into you? Were you mad at him? Had he done something you didn't like? He just couldn't figure it out!

"Well, I suppose there's no need to beat around the bush," He says, clearing his throat, his fingers clasping together, "Have I done something to upset you, Y/n? I've noticed... well, your behavior has been quite strange as of late. if I can fix whatever it was, please let me know. Everyone would like your time here in the Devildom to be as comfortable as possible."

Internal screaming. You're internally screaming. He noticed that you've been acting shy as of late, and he thinks it's because you're mad at him!? You groan, hiding your burning face in your hands.

"Uhm, I- I'm not mad at you, so don't worry..." Lucifer furrows his brows. If you're not mad at him then why...

Oh.

Lucifer couldn't help the small smirk that tugged on the corner of his lips. "I see," He clears his throat, hoping to cover up the chuckle that wants to escape. "Very well, you may leave now." Before you fully leave though, Lucifer makes on last comment. "Ah, and Y/n... Please do wear formalwear this Saturday."

"W... What for?"

"I'll be making a reservation at Ristorante Six." He finished with a wink, grinning at the way you seemed to short-circuit.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── MAMMON

You've been locking your door, going to bed early, taking a different route home, avoiding where he works. At first Mammon tried to brush it off as just a coincidence or that you were just in a crappy mood, but then he realized... He's the only one you're avoiding! And damn it, but you're so good at avoiding him, no matter how hard he tries to talk to you, you manage to slip away each time.

"Oi! Y/n!" Mammon grinned at finally catching you in the hallways of RAD. He was accompanied with Asmo, who couldn't help but watch in amusement as your eyes nearly popped out of your head before you took off. "Wha- Hey! Get back 'ere you- Ugh..." You were too far gone, and Mammon was too sad to chase you.

"My, my, dear older brother, it seems someone is shy around you," Asmo giggled, only for Mammon to sigh and slump forward.

"Yeah, I just don't know whyyy." He drags out the sentence with a whine, "I didn't even do anythin' this time- uh, I don't think so anyways?" He glances over at Asmo he's stifling a giggle. Seriously, Asmo knew his brother was dense, but this badly? Jeez, Asmo guesses he'll help him out just this once.

"Listen closely, okay?" Mammon nods, leaning in, a serious and concentrated look on his face. "Y/n," Mammon nods again, listening intently, "Likes you."

Mammon can only stare at Asmodeus as he tries to process this new information, before he's obnoxiously gasping and flailing around. "A- Are ya serious? Ya better not be lyin' to me, ya understand? I- I gotta go!" Mammon nearly trips over himself, taking off in the direction that you went. Asmo rolls his eyes, but he's happy for his brother.

Meanwhile, you think you've finally found a safe spot from Mammon. It's not that you want to avoid him, but you can't stand the sick feeling in your stomach when you get around him, or how your brain can't think straight, or how sweaty your hands get! You just want it to go back to how it was, when you were oblivious to your feelings.

You jump when the door slams open, and you look over to see a very out of breath Mammon. "I," he heaves, "I finally found ya." Seems like there is no where to run this time.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── LEVIATHAN

Whilst you tried not to avoid Leviathan, mostly because you knew he'd have a panic attack and would begin degrading himself senseless, you knew your attitude around him shifted. Instead of being your usual self, you've grown incredibly shy and self conscious, and all because you had to realize your feelings.

Like now, it's incredibly awkward as you two sit in silence. You were doing well at hiding your shyness when Leviathan had to reach over you to grab a snack— suddenly you had cringed away from him. Levi faltered, and tried not to immediately blame himself. Maybe you were so immersed in the show? But it wasn't long until he was blaming himself.

"I- I'm sorry," Leviathan finally whimpers out, "I understand if you don't wanna be here with me anymore— it must suck being stuck with a y- yucky otaku like me, huh?" He's mumbling out other self-deprecating words, and you can't stand to hear them.

"Levi," you timidly call out, fiddling with your fingers, glancing over at him. When he doesn't respond, you call his name out a little louder. He doesn't respond again, instead he's stopping the movie and pacing the floor, lost in his thoughts.

"Y- You've actually been really weird lately too, like distant and quiet, i- is it because you're finally sick of me? I'm sorry, you d- deserve better, you don't have to pretend to be my friend anymore, I- I-"

"Leviathan!" You finally manage to gather the courage to yell his name, and he comes to a still, looking at you in shock. If he wasn't so surprised at you yelling at him, he's sure there'd be tears in his eyes. With shaky hands he wrings his own wrists.

"Y... Yeah?"

"Listen, I..." A lump forms in your throat, but you try to ignore it. "I don't hate you or anything, I want to keep being your friend, I promise." He seems to relax a little, although still anxious. "I didn't mean to flinch, you just... surprised me? I can't really tell you but... Just trust me, I- I don't hate you."

It's quiet for a few minutes, before he's sitting in his spot next to you again. "Okay... I don't know... I don't know what's going on with you but... I'll trust you." He gives you a soft, nervous smile, and if you had been weaker, you're sure you would've passed out at how cute he was.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── SATAN

It was cute... At first. Satan wasn't entirely sure why you had grown shy around him, but he did enjoy teasing you and seeing you grow more flustered than usual. It was nice, until he realized you could barely form a sentence around him. He missed having intellectual conversations, deep conversations that could range into the early hours of the morning. Now he's more annoyed at your reservedness.

Satan watches as you fumble over your words, barely getting a sentence out. You startle when he clears his throat, glancing over at him. Despite figuring out you had a massive crush on Satan, you tried your hardest to still hold conversations with him... but it was just so hard! You kept getting distracted by his stupidly attractive face, or you'd slip into daydreams of more romantic interactions with him (which you'd then get embarrassed about because he's literally right there).

"I've been thinking," Satan begins, "You've been shy lately. Is it possibly because there's something you want to tell me?" He guesses he's right when he notices the way your shoulders tense. "You know, you can tell me whatever it is, I won't judge you." Of course you knew he wouldn't judge you, still... it was hard to confess you liked him— You barely even began to grasp it yourself!

"It's nothing, r- really..." You're playing with the hem of your shirt, your face growing warm. You imagine what it'd be like to confess to him right now, would he accept your feelings? If he did, he'd surely whisk you off your feet! Ah, just the thought if making your heart flutter! You giggle to yourself, lost in thought, when Satan clears his throat and you jump out of your daydream.

"I promise!" You say, almost a little too defensively. "It's... It's really nothing," The room only seems to get warmer as he leans in further, his face only a mere few inches from yours. He's inspecting you, trying to see if you're lying. And if he deems it so or not, he doesn't tell you. He pulls back and sighs.

"I'll trust you for now..." You let out a silent breath of relief. You'll have to either start hiding your crush better, or plan on confessing soon.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── ASMODEUS

This was hard. Having a crush on Asmodeus is hard. Prior to you realizing your crush on him, you never minded his extra affection— the way he'd hug you when he saw you, or the way he'd casually hold your hand whilst walking, or the way he'd lean in real close and put an arm around your shoulder, or the way he'd pull you in to dance with him— all of his usual actions, they all began to fluster you more and more.

"A- Asmo!" You squeak as he wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzle into your back. He giggles, only tightening his hold around you.

"You're not getting away from me this time!" He coos teasingly. Asmodeus has most definitely taken notice to the way you've been pulling away from his touch, but that only made him double down on his actions. "You're starting to hurt my feelings, you know?" He pouts, loosening his grip so you can turn around. Staring down at his little pout only worsens the condition of your rapidly beating heart.

"Asmodeus," You sigh, putting your hands on his arms and gently prying him away. "It's just... This kind of affection... i- it's usually reserved for... lovers," you whisper the last part, ignoring your warm cheeks. "It's embarrassing."

This only furthers his pout, and he backs away from you with crossed arms. "Hmph, you didn't find it embarrassing before! What changed, hm?"

Geez, he really had no clue...

You thought his vanity would make him guess it in seconds, but it seems not. You look the other way, unable to meet his inquisitive eyes. "Let's just drop it..." You mumble. His gaze was so intense, you were beginning to feel almost naked under his eyes.

Asmo lets out a loud, obnoxious sigh, "Fine. But we will be circling back to it later!" He takes your hand and giggles at your shock. "Geez, you're acting like you have a crush on me or something," Your stomach drops, although it doesn't take you long to realize he was joking... "C'mon, I just got some new nail polish in the mail, I wanna test them out~"

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── BEELZEBUB

It honestly took Beelzebub a long time to figure out you were acting different. It wasn't until he saw the look on your face when he had offered you some of his snack that he realized something was off about you.

"Hmm... Have you noticing something different about them?" Beel asked, looking over at Belphegor (who had been napping peacefully until he was interrupted). Belphie groaned, forcing himself to sit up and look over at you. You were a bit further away, working on a project with Mammon.

"Uh... No? They seem like their usual annoying self. Why?" Belphie slumps against Beel, and Beel sighs in frustration as he shoves some chips in his mouth.

"It just seems like... they're avoiding me... maybe... or something, ugh, I don't know." Belphie frowned. Whatever it was, it was really irritating Beel, which mean it was now annoying Belphie.

"If it's bothering you that much, then just ask'em." Beel scratches his head, his frown only growing.

"That's the thing! Whenever I try to talk to them, they get all quiet and kinda jittery." It then dawns on Belphie what exactly is happening. Ah, you've finally realized your giant crush on Beel, have you? Belphie snickers, causing Beel to furrow his brows. What was he laughing at? "Do you know what's happening?"

"I have an idea." Belphie yawns, stretching out before slumping back down. "Let me know when ya figure it out, okay?" Beel wants to ask what he means, but Belphie is already fast asleep. Seems like Beel won't figure it out anytime soon.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── BELPHEGOR

Belphegor is beyond annoyed— his favorite pillow is gone! Whatever's made you so shy and squirmy is really beginning to irk him. He's just trying to sleep but you keep wiggling about and kicking up a fuss. He groans, and a part of him wants to sink his nails into your thigh and keep you still... but he refrains.

"Why are you being more bothersome than usual?" Belphie finally grumbles out, rolling over to look up at you. "Well? Spit it out, so I can put a stop to it and you can go back to doing what you do best; being my pillow."

If only he knew that he was the problem. He'd probably tell you to stop being dumb and throw a pillow at your face. You sigh, anxiously playing with his hair. He purrs at the touch, his eyelids dropping, he almost fell asleep, almost- until you were squirming around again!

"Alright," He forces himself to sit up, glaring at you. "Tell me. Now." What a brat. You question why you like him, only to be reminded that you do, and grow shy.

"It's nothing..." You mumble under your breath, but clearly Belphie isn't going to be satisfied with just that.

"Nothing? Nothing is making me lose precious hours of sleep?" You open your mouth to speak, only to close it. He blinks once, then twice, before shaking his head. "You... You're... Look, I won't tease you, so just tell me."

You debate it, you really do, but you just can't seem to find the courage to actually get the words out. Wringing your wrists, you try to force the lump in your throat to go away. "I'll try to be still..."

Not the answer he wanted, but he can see how reluctant you are to share, and (begrudgingly) decides not to push it (because then you might leave him)!

"Fine, whatever..." He'll be bringing it up later though; He'll figure out the reason for your sudden shyness whether you like it or not!

﹙ thank you for reading! have a wonderful day! ﹚