#i mean it's not even. it's not that deep it's barely even personal

[cornliastreett]

BED CHEM ⎯⎯ chapter seven

drew starkey x singer!reader

NAVIGATION !

BED CHEM MASTERLIST !

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

001. NOTE

🤭🤭 don’t have anything to say but enjoy

i haven’t proof read this chapter so apologies for any mistakes but i really wanted to get this up today

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yourusername went to some industry events

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user let’s hope she sees drew again 🤭

Y/N DIDN'T OFTEN EXPERIENCE DEJA VU, OR EVEN AT ALL. But when she locks eyes with Drew at yet another event, she feels it, causing her to almost irrupt into a fit of giggles. Was the universe trying to tell her something? Was there a reason it kept pulling her and Drew together?

He didn't approach her straight away, as he was in conversation with somebody else but he smiled, almost a smirk, before his eyes averted away. Meaning he didn't see the deep blush take over her face. She felt like she was back in High School. What was this man doing to her? Y/N needed to get it together before somebody caught on to the effect he had on her. Or before he caught on.

Little did she know, Drew was feeling the exact same. How could a girl he'd met no more than three times have such an effect on him? He'd locked eyes with Y/N, then looked away, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. The way her eyes sparkled when she saw him, the sound of her giggling at his pathetic attempts of flirting with her and the way she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Drew Starkey could not get Y/N Y/L/N out of his head, no matter how much he tried. Not that he was trying too hard.

After a few more minutes, Y/N had made her way over to the bar. She had brought Paloma along with her but she was long gone, Y/N assumed she was around somewhere trying to see who the most famous person she could talk to that night was. But Y/N didn't mind, not when she knew Drew was around somewhere.

The glass of her drink had barely reached her lips when a familiar voice spoke from behind her. "Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here." The voice spoke with a hint of amusement, causing her to smile. She placed her glass back on the bar and turned around.

There he was. Blue eyes staring into her own. "Hey, Starkey." Y/N teased, leaning back on the bar behind her. Her eyes quickly detoured down him, trying to covertly check him out but Drew saw, as clear as day.

"Oh, is that how it is? Not even first name basis." His eyebrows raised at Y/N’s words, teasing her. "I'm hurt, Y/L/N." Drew held his hand up to his chest. His chest that was covered in a black button up. Y/N noticed how he'd ditched the jacket, there was no tie, and the first three buttons had been disregarded. Showing off the top of his chest. Was he trying to kill her?

Unbeknown to her, she wasn't the only one focused on what the other one was wearing. Drew felt as though he couldn't breathe. Y/N looked unbelievable and he couldn't stop his eyes from dropping down. Who wore leather to an industry event anyway? But he wasn't going to complain.

Y/N frowned in a teasing way. "Drew isn't even your first name anyway." She pointed out before raising her own eyebrows.

"How do you know that?" Drew laughed, had she been Googling him?

"Maddie told me." Y/N shrugged her shoulders. It wasn't a big deal that her and Maddie were talking about him, right?

"You've been talking about me with Maddie?" Drew's face had unknowingly lit up.

Y/N felt her face heat up again but she tried to brush it off. "Maybe." She reached for her drink to distract Drew from her flushed face. "So, Joseph, are you following me or what?" Y/N then changed the subject, they didn't need to discuss that she was talking about him with Madelyn.

"You wish." Drew laughed, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to act cool. But all Y/N could focus on was how his shirt tightened around his biceps when he did that.

Her eyes went back up to his face, and Drew expected her to laugh but she didn't. "Maybe I do." She wasn't going to lie.

"Oh yeah?" Drew smirked and Y/N's body reacted in a way she had never felt before.

"Yeah." She mirrored his smirk.

And that was it for the rest of the night. The two were glued to each other. Y/N and Drew had migrated over to the very end of the bar together, sitting opposite each other on two bar stools. Y/N hadn't even noticed but every time one of them had stood up, their stools seemed to get closer and closer together. Till their knees were slotted in between one another's. Y/N's left leg was slotted firmly between Drew's, meaning she could not move away. Luckily, she hadn't wanted to.

That had also meant Y/N was in perfect reaching distance of Drew. So he could place his hand directly onto her knee, casually without being too obvious.

The first time he did it, she had noticed. Although she had been wearing leather trousers, his hand felt as though it was burning a hole through them. The next few times he did it, she hadn't noticed as much. Then in the end, he hadn't even moved it away. Drew's hand stayed there till they had left that night.

There was laughing, and giggling from Y/N, flirting and teasing. If anyone was in earshot of the two, it would've been plastered all over the news the next morning. But nobody was really paying attention to either of them. Which was nice. Y/N didn't have to worry about what anybody would say.

The only person who really took notice was Paloma, who had circled back around to find Y/N. But when Paloma saw who Y/N was with, she decided to stay away. She hadn't seen her that happy in a while.

After an hour, or maybe two, of talking, Y/N was maybe tipsy enough to be braver than she usually would. Their last conversation had ended. Drew's hand was still resting on Y/N’s knee but now her hand was with his, fingers running over his own and over his rings. She hesitated before she spoke but meant every word. "Would it be totally inappropriate to ask you if you wanna get out of here?" Y/N said, eyes flickering up to meet his. She smirked, running her fingers around his own and holding them. The tension between the two was becoming too much for them both.

"Absolutely not, let's go." And Y/N had never seen Drew move so fast. Although he didn't let go of her hand, he used the other one to down his drink and he stood up, taking Y/N with him.

She had started to giggle at his eagerness but found it oddly attractive. "Okay, slow down." She said in between laughter leaving her mouth. She brought his hand closer to herself, gaining his attention.

"You want me to slow down?" Drew raised an eyebrow at her as he placed the glass back down on the bar.

Y/N paused, staring up into his eyes. Did she want him to slow down? "No, not really." She said softly, before letting Drew practically drag her out of the building.

A taxi took them back to Y/N's apartment. Only because it was closer. Y/N had also texted Paloma while in the taxi, telling her she'd left with Drew and that she'd pay for a taxi for her back to her apartment. She felt awful for ditching her friend but she knew she wouldn't mind, Paloma wasn't that kind of person.

The taxi ride was filled with Y/N's giggles as Drew whispered things into her ear. They couldn't keep their hands off each other as Y/N found herself unbuttoning more buttons on Drew's shirt. Her nails tracing patterns into his skin. Her touch was electric and Drew knew he wouldn't be able to stay away from her now.

When they got dropped off at her apartment building, Y/N led Drew inside. He followed behind her as she made her way over to the elevators. Y/N pressed the button and felt Drew press himself into her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist softly. Drew's lips then found her neck, and her collarbone, and her shoulders. He only stopped when the doors opened in front of them.

The two adults stumbled inside, more laughter leaving Y/N's mouth. She pressed her back against the wall of the elevator, after pressing the right floor number. Drew stood in front of her, towering over her small frame. Y/N slowly wrapped her arms around Drew's shoulders, bringing herself closer to his face. They didn't move any closer, although there wasn't much room between them anyway. As they stared into each other's eyes. Y/N slowly moved her hands up to the back of his neck, stopping before bringing him any closer.

"If you kiss me right now, I am not going to be able to stay away from you." She admitted, eyes glancing down at his lips.

Drew wanted to laugh, was that supposed to make him want him to stop? "Maybe that's exactly what I want." Drew told her before he closed the distance between them himself.

Y/N had never had a first kiss so electrifying. She'd never had one that made her body feel on fire and so calm at the same time. It just felt right.

But unfortunately, it was short lived as the sound of the elevator doors opening forced the two apart. Y/N grabbed hold of Drew's hand, dragging him along behind her to her apartment. She dug her keys from her bag, fumbling with them as she tried to unlock the door. When she finally did, Drew followed her inside and into her kitchen, where Y/N threw her phone and bag onto the side.

"Do you want a —" She attempted to ask Drew if he wanted a drink, trying to occupy herself as she wasn't really sure what was about to happen next and didn't want to just assume why Drew had accompanied her back to her apartment. Although the reason she assumed, she really hoped was the reason.

Luckily for Y/N, she didn't need to assume as Drew spun her around and pressed her against the kitchen counter. Drew's lips found Y/N's again, but this time it was more forceful, more passionate. It meant more than a hesitant, slow kiss in an elevator. This one was leading somewhere.

The kiss became faster, like they were afraid the other would disappear. Drew's hands found a place on Y/N's waist, gripping the leather covering her skin. Y/N's had found place on Drew's jaw, giving her a sense of control. They continued, till Y/N needed to catch her breath. She pulled away, keeping her hands on Drew's face but Drew had other plans. His mouth attached itself to Y/N's jawline, making it's way down to her neck and even further.

The sounds of Y/N's breathing filled the room as she attempted to fill her lungs again but Drew was making it awfully difficult. Her empty fingers found space in his hair, nails scratching his scalp. Drew had lightly nipped the skin above her collarbone, eliciting a soft moan from Y/N's lips. "You have no idea how much I have thought about this since meeting you." Drew's words were muffled, not wanting to remove himself from Y/N.

Y/N found herself smiling, even though Drew couldn't see. "I think I have a slight idea."

Finally, Drew had removed his face from her neck. His face was red and his lips were swollen but Y/N had never been more attracted to him. "God, you're so beautiful." His 6 foot 2 frame towered over her 5 foot one. "I can die a happy man now."

A laugh escaped Y/N's lips as she shook her head at the man. "You're ridiculous."

"Is that why you're blushing?" He smirked, leaning his head back down but stopped before their lips touched.

"Just stop talking and kiss me."

"Yes, ma'am."

BED CHEM TAGLIST !

tags: @esquivelbianca @ts1mp0ne @fruitcakerafe @anothertimegirl @soincredible @ursogorgeous13 @drewsephrry @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @hypnotizedstarkey @harrys-housewife @st8rkey @lyannesworld @bxbychxrry @midnight-and-books @dontknow3m @amel1ee @preyperch-blog @dreamybabbyy @lolasangelz @nai12 @drewstarkeysbabe @blog-luvdance @darlingstarkey @chillgal135 @blushmimi @fveapplestall @rlalliehayes @moonssyrup @pamwired @kissesandmartinis @sereneera @imtalkinnonsense @starkeybae @voidangxls

[dulcescorderitas]

dean tilts the bottle to his lips, swigs deep, then sets it down with a loud thunk against the worn motel table. he’s been staring at you for the past five minutes like he’s trying to put together a puzzle where half the pieces are missing. brow furrowed, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek, green eyes flicking from your face to your body like he's comparing something—like he’s seen you before.

then it clicks. you see it click.

“no way.” he huffs out a laugh, disbelieving. shakes his head like he can’t believe what’s right in front of him. “no fucking way.”

sam looks up from his beer, barely paying attention, but dean’s full-body reaction has him raising an eyebrow. “what?”

dean ignores him, leans in closer, eyes locked on yours like you’ve personally blown his mind. “bunny, you—you posed for playboy, didn't you?”

you blink. then grin, slow and teasing, because oh. so that’s what this is about. “maybe,” you hum, taking a sip from your glass, letting the suspense stretch just to mess with him.

“no, no, don’t play coy with me.” dean’s laughing, that low, gravelly chuckle that rumbles from his chest, shaking his head like he’s genuinely baffled. he turns to sam, smacking his arm. “you hearin’ this? our girl was in playboy.”

sam, for the first time in this entire conversation, actually looks interested. “wait, what?”

“that’s what i’m saying!” dean gestures wildly, then turns back to you, still grinning like he just hit the jackpot. “which one? tell me. wait—don’t tell me, i know. you were in that ‘girls of the open road’ spread, weren’t you?”

you tilt your head, feigning surprise. “you remember that?”

“remember it?” dean scoffs. “i wore that issue out.”

sam makes a noise of pure secondhand embarrassment, running a hand down his face, but dean is fully locked in, grinning like a devil as he shakes his head. “i cannot believe i’m dating a fucking playboy model.”

"an ex-playboy model, it was one photoshoot from last year," you giggle, leaning in, eyes playful. “but, how did i look?”

dean exhales slow, eyes dropping just for a second—just long enough for heat to flicker in them, for his jaw to clench like he’s suddenly remembering every detail of those pictures.

“you looked—” he licks his lips, eyes dragging back up to yours. “sexy as hell.”

his voice is lower now, that gravelly edge deepening just enough to make something stir in your stomach.

“but you know what?” he leans in, real close, his breath warm, voice dipping. “you look even better in person.”

sam groans, shoving his chair back. “okay, you know what? i need another beer.”

dean barely acknowledges him. his gaze flicks down, just for a second. then he grins, teeth flashing, voice dropping to something lusty.

“especially these.” he gestures, open-palmed, vaguely in the direction of your chest. “i mean, damn, bunny. damn.”

you laugh, leaning back, stretching just enough to tease. “you like ‘em?”

dean lets out a low whistle. “babe, playboy did not do you justice.”

sam mutters something about needing stronger alcohol and disappears toward the fridge, while dean just watches you, shaking his head like he still can’t believe his luck.

tags: @soldiersgirl @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @figthoughts @sunsbaby @ambiguous-avery @bocadelinfierno @sunnyteume

[cvnt4him]

insecurities is just the most common thing a human being can experience..no matter your power, strong will, immaculate self discipline, insecurities are normal and everyone goes through it once in a while.

And like everyone else, you have your own insecurities. Being fat is something everyone seems to look down on. Everything is funnier and way easier to make fun of when you're fat. You hate looking at yourself and seeing your body. Your chubby tummy, your fat arms and squishy cheeks. They were the bare minimum of what you disliked about yourself, dare you say hate.

It will always befuddle you when you see your super handsome strong and admirable boyfriend. I mean he's well built, sexy, and damn was he just blatantly perfect. There's no point in pointing out small features about him when everything you seen was perfect. Anyone with eyes could see he is a walking piece of art perfectly made.

It hurts you to see that you're holding something like him down. It makes you feel terrible.

You're sulking in bed, you haven't moved since he's left this morning. It worries him terribly. It's normal for you to feel gross and icky but that doesn't mean it doesn't upset him as well. He hates seeing you cry, and when it gets this bad he can't help that stinging feeling he feels his heart give.

While you're hidden under the cover not bothering to lift your head up to see anything he slowly and quietly walked towards you, a small smile on his face as he climbed into bed behind you. You feel the extra dip in the bed added given his weight. you open your eyes beneath the cover before you swing the cover off of you whipping your head around to see your loving boyfriend.

Calm eyes full of love and adoration for you. He scoffs lightly and pulls you into a deep and tight hug causing you to whine. Small kisses are planted on top of your head while he holds you closely and you listen to his breath, his heart beating behind his chest.

“ ’s everything okay.”

It wasn't really a question but it was good to feel like he cared. Of course you knew he did, he cared so much and he made sure that you knew that....in his own weird ways.

You give a small nod before you try to scooch impossibly closer to him. He chuckled above you and sinks deeper into the comfort of the bed, not bothering to remove the clothes he was wearing after the long day he's had. Holding you was simply enough.

Sure he might not be done much of anything, but him just being near you was enough to make you feel loved. Like regardless of your weight, you're loved. He had a knack for that, he was a damn good person and an even better boyfriend. You were impossibly lucky, is all you could think.

“ I love you. y'know that.”

You nod again, he hums in disapproval above you his brows furrowing as he looks down at you giving the top of your head a rather aggressive kiss before he grabs you by your chin and cranes your head up to his so you can face him, he gives you a stern yet pouty look huffing as he stared down at you.

There is no way this big strong manly (for the most part) man was sitting here pouting. If only the world could see your man now. He was adorable that's for sure. You can't help the giggles and laughs that escape you as you stare up at him, admiring his handsome yet cute features. He truly was a work of art, the gods definitely took their precious time sculpting him and those abs.

“ I love you.”

He says once more while he continues to pout. You snicker and realize what's got him so peaved, he wants you to say 'i love you' back. You always say it back when he says it to you, mainly because it's true, you do love him as well. But another reason is because it makes you feel like he loves you just that little bit more when you say it.

For the fun of it, you decided you weren't gonna say it. Just to see how far you could really take it. A small displeased groan leaves him as he eyes you up and down eyes squinting at you as your teasing smile grows wider, you try your best not to crack but you can't help it. He's too cute, you burst out in laughter and let your head fall onto his chest.

He groans and kisses you all over, pouting and slightly annoyed with you but he can't deny the fact that he loves you far too much. You eventually tire yourselves out, small giggles leaving your two motionless and entwined bodies. Your arms draped over his body while his legs were in between yours, fingers locked together as you hold hands smiles on both of your tired faces.

He looks over to see your eyes closed, you weren't exactly asleep just in more of a dazed estate really thankful for what you have and how much love you feel even when you get in this mindset. A heavy sigh leaves him as he looks back up at the ceiling deciding he'll just do what he needs to in the morning. He quickly sheds his day clothes off and turns in for the night in only his boxers holding you close and kissing your temple, his hand on your tummy as he occasionally squeezes it, giving you a ticklish yet discomforting feeling.

You squirm at the touch and then to give him a warning look that he simply dismissed with a smirk and a roll of his eyes. He pulls you closer and chuckles in your ear lightly, you can feel his breath fan the side of your face as he sighs heavily.

It was hard to feel insecure about your body when regardless of what he does he managed to make you feel loved.

mha ➥ izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, EJIROU KIRISHIMA, mirio togata, denki kaminari silently.

hq ➥ HINATA SHOYOU, BOKUTO KOTAROU, atsumu miya, kuroo tetsuro, asahi azumane but quietly aswell.

[chrissturnsfav]

♡ fratboy!chris tries to braid your hair

it's a thursday afternoon, and you're hanging out with chris at the frat house in his unmade bed. the air smells like his body wash mixed with the faintest hint of weed, and he’s lying next to you, scrolling on his phone like you’re not even there.

you’re watching some trashy reality show on his tv, but you're getting bored quickly. so you turn your head, looking at him. "you should try to braid my hair."

chris doesn’t even glance up, scoffing under his breath. "absolutely the fuck not."

"why?" you whine and nudge his arm dramatically.

"kid, i dunno how to do that shit," he mumbles, picking his head up to glare at you, but you know there isn't any meaning behind it.

"i’ll teach you," you shrug, already shifting to sit between his legs, back pressed against his chest. you grab his wrist and shove a section of your hair into his hand. "c'monnn. it'll be funny."

chris sighs as if you’re asking him to wipe your ass, rolling his eyes, but his fingers lazily start messing with your hair anyway. "what do i do?" he huffs.

"separate it into three sections."

"the fuck is a section?" he scoffs, his brows furrowing in deep confusion.

"oh my god," you groan in frustration, tilting your head back against his chest. "you are so fucking stupid."

"nah, you’re just bad at explainin’ shit," he fires back, still holding your hair like it personally offended him. "what the fuck do i do?"

"okay, listen," you say, grabbing his hands and forcing his fingers to separate your hair. "this—this is a section. you need three. ’kay?"

chris mutters something under his breath, but his hands follow yours as you guide him through the motions. he’s stiff at first, fingers moving way too rough, and then he just gets lazy, like he’s already over it.

he lets out the most exaggerated groan, head tipping back against the headboard. "yeah, m’out," he declares, immediately dropping your hair from his grasp.

you spin around so fast you nearly knock into him. "no. no. pick it up."

"nah, fuck that," he says, already reaching for his phone. "i don’t got the patience for this shit."

you grab his wrist before he can even unlock it. "do it."

he levels you with the driest, most unimpressed look, annoyed. "why d'you care so much?"

"becauuuse," you whine, huffing as you glare at him. "you’re not about to half-ass my hair and then just quit."

he stares at you, then flicks his eyes to the TV, then back to you, clearly debating if it’s worth the fight. "fuck," he mutters, running a hand down his face before snatching your hair back. "you're fuckin' annoying as shit."

chris mutters more curses under his breath, but he keeps braiding—or, well, attempting to braid—until he finally ties off the end with your hair tie and flings your hair over your shoulder. "there. now leave me alone," he grumbles, grabbing his phone again.

you grab your phone and check the camera, and the second you see the disaster on your head, you lose it. "chris. chris. what the fuck is this?" you choke out between laughter.

he barely glances up from his phone. "a fuckin' braid, kid, you asked me to do this shit," he huffs, shooting you an annoyed glare.

you blink at him, still in disbelief. "no, it's not."

he barely reacts, still just scrolling. "yeah, it is."

"chris." you shove his arm. "look at it," you huff, whipping your head around to show the back of your head with the so-called braid in your hair.

chris groans dramatically, rolling his eyes as he flops down back against his pillow, "i don't care, kid, enough with this bullshit, you're gonna piss me off."

"just look at it, just for a second," you huff, frowning at him as you grab his forearm.

"no," he mumbles, pulling his arm out of your grip. "don’t ever ask me to do that shit again."

you turn, aiming a light slap at his chest, but he catches your wrist and yanks you down until you’re practically face-planted against his shoulder.

"oh my god, let me go," you grumble, squirming against him, whining into his shoulder.

"nah," he says, smirking as he tightens his grip. "since you wanna be like that, you can stay right here."

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @sturns-mermaid , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @dvinesturn , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @chrisbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @tessasturns , @coquettechris , @courta13 , @sturniolo101 , @malsmind , @mattsleftball , @softhyunieeee , @whore4mattsturniolo , @tezzzzzzzz , @corspebridedelrey , @softhyunieeee , @sturn1oh0 , @riasturns , @u-didnt-see-this

@chrissturnsfav ™

[darkmarkmarauder]

Call me and I’ll come - S.S.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x you

You should have known better by now.

Should’ve known that getting your feelings hurt was just part of the deal when it came to Sebastian Sallow.

Because he never promised you anything, did he? He never said he was yours, never whispered I love you when his hands were all over you, hot against your skin, when he fucked you like he actually meant it.

Sebastian Sallow was not a good person.

That was fine, though, because neither were you.

Whatever this was between you—this thing—that was built on the kind of pleasure that left bruises and bite marks and bad decisions. It was never meant to be sweet. Never meant to be kind.

And yet, there he was. Playing at chivalry, walking Poppy Sweeting back to her dorm like she was something to be protected. Like she hadn’t spent the past seven years getting under your skin, all sunshine smiles and Holier Than Thou bullshit.

You weren’t sure why you even followed them. Maybe it was the way Poppy's laugh rang through the corridor, soft and sweet, like she wasn’t the most insufferable person on the planet. Maybe it was the way Sebastian looked at her—really looked at her—as if she were saying something worth listening to. The thought made your stomach churn. You had him first. Had him beneath you, above you, inside you. You should’ve been the only thing occupying that wicked little mind of his.

But no. He was escorting her back to her fucking Hufflepuff common room like some noble gentleman. Heart-of-gold-ass-bitch. God, you hated her.

So you had a little fun.

Just a little.

Legilimency was easy when your target was oblivious. You slipped into her mind without so much as a whisper, poking at her thoughts, nudging her attention away from whatever painfully dull story she was telling him. Watching her stumble through sentences, lose her train of thought, look almost dizzy with confusion. Sebastian’s brows furrowed as she trailed off mid-sentence, blinking rapidly.

“You alright?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. That made your teeth grind. So concerned for little Miss Perfect.

Poppy nodded quickly, but she was uneasy now. You could feel her nerves, the confusion settling deep. You kept at it—poking, prying, twisting little intrusive thoughts through the cracks of her consciousness.

Poppy winced, pressing a hand to her temple. “I… I don’t know. I just feel a little—”

You rolled your eyes. Pathetic. You got bored of that real quick. Whispering under your breath you sent a nauseating little hex and she was doubled over, face paling, gagging.

Sebastian stepped back, startled. “Poppy?”

“Uh, I think—I think I need to go lie down,” she groaned, turning away hastily.

You strolled up behind Sebastian just as Poppy stumbled off, pouting mockingly. "Aw, hope she feels better."

You barely kept the smirk off your face as Poppy disappeared into her common room, her face pale as she clutched her stomach. Whatever. She’d be fine. Maybe next time, she’d learn not to bat her pretty little lashes at your Sebastian.

Not that he was yours.

Sebastian turned to you the moment she disappeared, a slow, disbelieving shake of his head. His lips twitched in amusement, but his eyes were anything but.

"Yeah, okay, princess, we’re really gonna pretend?"

You folded your arms, feigning innocence. "Not sure what you mean, Sallow."

"Cut the shit," he scoffed, stepping closer, the scent of fresh pine, something unmistakably him filling the space between you. "The second she started looking like she might kneel over, I knew you were up to something. And then—what? you just coincidentally show up the moment she leaves? Please."

You rolled your eyes. "Please," you mimicked, voice dripping with mockery. "What, am I not allowed to take a little evening stroll?"

Sebastian let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Right. Because you, of all people, just love late-night walks around the Hufflepuff dorms. Admit it, you’re jealous."

That word. Jealous. You bristled at it, anger flashing hot through your veins.

"Of what, exactly?" You sneered. "Little Miss I-Save-Orphaned-Dragons? Please. You think I’m worried about you wasting your time with a boring little goody-two-shoes like her?"

His jaw tensed, and fuck, you loved getting under his skin.

"You’re so full of shit," he muttered, voice dropping an octave. "What was it? You didn’t like seeing me with her? Didn’t like the thought of me walking her back? Maybe—" he took another step closer, and you refused to move back, even as your breath caught in your throat— "maybe you didn’t like knowing she actually enjoys my company without having to spread her legs first."

The words hit like a slap. You felt them crack through your ribs, shatter through your lungs. But you weren’t about to let him see it.

"Wow," you let out a sharp laugh, masking the ache blooming in your chest. "That’s rich, coming from the guy who can’t seem to keep his hands off me."

Sebastian tilted his head, brown eyes dark and unreadable. "Yeah?" he mused, his tone almost taunting. "Maybe I should try. Since it’s not like you’re anything special."

You sucked in a sharp breath.

"Fuck you," you spat.

Sebastian smirked, slow and lazy, his words venomous. "You already did. And if I recall, you come crawling back every single time."

Your vision blurred red. Your nails dug into your palms, the sting barely grounding you. You wanted to hex him. Wanted to make him hurt the way his words made your chest feel like it was caving in.

But instead, you took a step back.

"Go fuck yourself, Sallow."

And then you turned on your heel walking away, fists clenched, heart pounding, body burning with fury and something you weren’t ready to name. Jealousy.

Behind you, Sebastian let out a sharp exhale.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, voice laced with something that almost sounded like regret.

You were drunk when you called him.

Drunk and pissed off and reckless.

You’d heard about it from Imelda—how Sebastian had actually taken Poppy on a date, how he’d sat with her at The Three Broomsticks, bought her a drink, showed her a good time. How they sat together at dinner.

You refused to look at him for the rest of the day. You ignored him in class, in the halls, in the library. You ignored him even when he tried to get your attention, knocking his knee against yours under the desk, whispering your name when the professor wasn’t looking. You ignored him all the way up until tonight.

Right up until the moment you floo-called him from your room.

The moment he picked up, his voice came through the flames, exasperated but familiar. “What do you want?”

“Come over.” You softly demanded.

He sighed. “I’m busy.”

You leaned in, let your voice drop lower, silkier. “Didn’t ask if you were busy, Sallow. I said come over.”

A pause. He wasn’t even pretending to think about it—the sound of him moving, the clink of his belt as he got dressed . “Give me ten.”

You grinned.

Of course he’d come. He always did.

It didn’t matter how much he flirted with Poppy, how much he tried to pretend there was something there. It didn’t matter if she was sweet and kind and everything you weren’t.

Because at the end of the day, when you called—he answered.

Always.

Not even a minute later, there he was, disheveled, eyes swirling with something that looked like relief. His shirt was wrinkled, his tie loosened like he had rushed here.

You smirked. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “You’re such a fucking piece of work, you know that?”

You didn't bother responding as his dark eyes bore into yours. Tilting your head slightly, biting your lip before yanking him inside, fingers wrapped around this tie as the door slammed shut behind him.

Yeah. Poppy Sweeting didn't stand a fucking chance.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: raw, next question.

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[scoupsakakitty]

Late-Night Secrets pt.2 | Seventeen x 14thMember | fluff

The next morning, Y/N woke up with a pounding headache and a dry throat. The world was spinning slightly, and for a few seconds, she just lay there, trying to piece together what had happened the night before.

Then it hit her.

The soju. The confessions. The members' reactions.

"Oh no," she groaned, pulling the blanket over her face.

But she barely had a second to process before her door swung open.

"Y/N!" Seungkwan's voice rang out, way too loud for her current state. "Rise and shine!"

"Go away," she mumbled, burrito-ing herself in her blanket.

"Oh, no, no, no," Joshua laughed, stepping inside. "You are not getting away that easily."

Hoshi and DK followed, looking far too excited for her liking.

"We have questions," Hoshi smirked, plopping down on her bed.

"And you," DK pointed at her dramatically, "have answers."

Y/N groaned again. "Can this wait until I’ve had breakfast?"

Seungcheol appeared in the doorway, arms crossed. "Nope. The moment you wake up, interrogation begins."

"This is harassment," she muttered, finally peeking out from under the blanket.

Mingyu grinned. "You did this to yourself, Miss 'I Might Be Talking to an Idol'."

Y/N sat up slowly, rubbing her temples. "I don’t even remember half of what I said."

"Oh, don’t worry," Woozi smirked. "We remember everything for you."

As Y/N forced herself out of bed and into the kitchen, the interrogation continued.

"Okay, just tell us who it is," Jeonghan pressed as she poured herself a glass of water.

"Yeah, it’s not that hard," Dino added.

"You’re making this more suspicious by avoiding it," Vernon chimed in.

She took a long sip before responding. "I genuinely don’t know what you guys are talking about."

Groans filled the room.

"Y/N!" Seungkwan whined. "Just tell us!"

"Are you talking to him right now?" Minghao asked, narrowing his eyes.

She glanced at her phone on the table, then quickly flipped it over. "Nope."

"Liar," Woozi muttered.

Hoshi suddenly gasped. "Wait, are you dating him already?!"

Y/N nearly choked on her water. "What?! No!"

"Then why won’t you tell us?" Joshua asked, crossing his arms.

"Because you guys are going to make a big deal out of it!" she protested.

"We make a big deal out of everything," DK pointed out. "This is nothing new."

Despite the members' relentless questioning, Y/N managed to avoid giving a straight answer. They eventually gave up—for now—and let her eat in peace.

The day passed by lazily, with everyone lounging in the dorm, watching movies, and playing games. Y/N was relieved that they had seemingly dropped the topic.

Until later that afternoon.

She was curled up on the couch, scrolling through her phone, when she got a message. As she read it, a small smile appeared on her lips.

That was a mistake.

"Who are you smiling at?" Jeonghan asked suspiciously.

Y/N immediately wiped the smile off her face. "No one."

"Oh, it’s definitely him," Mingyu grinned.

"She’s totally texting him right now!" Seungkwan gasped.

"Y/N, just tell us!" Hoshi begged. "Please, I’m suffering!"

"No," she said firmly.

Seungcheol sighed dramatically. "We’re going to keep asking until you tell us."

"Then I guess you’ll be asking forever," she shot back.

The members groaned collectively.

By evening, the members had grown desperate.

"Okay, let’s make a deal," Joshua said, sitting next to her. "If you tell us, we promise not to do anything dumb. No weird teasing, no public hints, nothing."

Y/N narrowed her eyes. "Do you mean it?"

"We promise!" Seungcheol nodded.

She sighed, staring at the hopeful (and extremely nosy) faces around her. "Fine. But if any of you do something stupid, I will personally make your lives miserable."

They all nodded eagerly.

She took a deep breath. "It’s Eric. From The Boyz."

Silence.

Then—

"WAIT, ERIC?!" DK nearly screamed.

"ERIC FROM THE BOYZ?!" Hoshi yelled.

"Oh my God," Seungkwan gasped, covering his mouth.

"I KNEW IT!" Mingyu exclaimed. "I had a feeling!"

"Wait, wait," Vernon interrupted. "Isn’t he older than you?"

Y/N rolled her eyes. "By like a year."

"Huh," Woozi said thoughtfully. "I just thought you’d only date someone your age."

"Same," Dino nodded.

"Well, surprise!" she said, crossing her arms. "Age doesn’t matter and it's only a year guys calm down. Like he isn't 10 years older than me realx."

"No, no, it’s fine," Seungcheol grinned. "We’re just… processing."

"So," Minghao smirked. "How did this happen?"

Y/N groaned. "Nope! That’s all you’re getting."

The members groaned in frustration, but Y/N just smiled, finally relieved that the secret was out.

"Fine," Seungkwan huffed. "But if you guys ever go public, we’re telling the world that we knew first."

Y/N laughed. "Deal."

[olderthannetfic]

Unhinged confession time: I used to functionally fake having a self-insert OC. Everyone insisted that all people had one and that no one actually didn't have one or picture themselves in the story they were writing. I got hit with a lot of "oh, so you're lying. you're lying because you're ~*~not like other girls~*~, right? you're soooo much better than us because you would never stoop to our level, right?" and eventually I just caved. I gave up. I wrote an OC with my name and hair color in an obligatory, barely-there relationship with the fandom bicycle. That fic hardly ever updated, usually once or twice a year when I was bored. It made people stop accusing me of being full of internalized misogyny and contempt for women.

I have never pictured myself in stories. I don't picture myself when I masturbate. I don't make myself in games with customization and clothing. I don't daydream about myself. I don't have any desire to fuck the fandom bicycle, who I think actually is really annoying and needs intense therapy before he'd even be able to say something that wasn't hiding behind irony or trite MCU style humor. I was blatantly, obviously way more interested in shipping someone else with an OC who does not share my ethnicity, gender, age, economic background or upbringing. But woman = self-insert so if you don't self-insert, you must be against women.

Eventually fandom drama went down and I quietly retreated to writing on a different account. Being attached to any of the shit-stirrers was murder on the comments' section in that it immediately became all about so-and-so and not, you know, the story. And yes, starting from zero means less comments overall, but I would rather have no comments than comments about drama I wasn't even involved in directly.

Other than when doing so was needed to stay in the good graces of BNF in the main fandom Discord server, I've never written a self-insert and I was very glad to never have to do so again. It's so fucking boring. But if you think that, you must have low self-esteem or internalized misogyny or think you're soooo much better than everyone. You must, deep down, want to write an OC just like you! For representation and escapism and empowerment! Because no one could ever enjoy digging into the headspace of someone different than them, obviously. We all like to imagine ourselves all the time, right?

No. I don't. I like creating characters. I don't want to remake me again and again and again and again. I didn't even draw myself in my drawings when I was three years old in preschool. I don't know why I'd be into it now. "It's relatable!" I don't need a character to be identical to me to relate to them! I can relate to a character who's very different from me, and that's not rare, or weird, or unusual! Every single person reading this can think of a character who's very different from them who they related to or felt for in some way.

I think selfshippers and self-insert OC writers get too much flack. I do. But I loathe the "everyone does it!" mentality used to defend it because it always ends up back at this point where everyone who doesn't stands by going, "No, actually, I don't. And pretending I do is boring as tar."

--

I once read some sexuality researchers the riot act for leaving this axis out of their study. Their response: "But the older research we're comparing to left it out, so we have to as well or the results won't line up in a useful way!"

Self inserting makes my skin crawl in a dysphoric way. This is common among AFAB m/m shippers I've known in particular, but I suspect it's plenty common in general.

[pencilpat]

The Scout RED v. BLU sketch pages were fun, I might keep doing that until I run out of steam. Take some Snipers.

Like the Scout ones, some brief related headcanons below.

RED:

-Likes bugs a lot. Will go out of his way to pick up and play with even the 'ugliest' or most dangerous ones. Fond of roaches and beetles. If he could wake up tomorrow and be a beetle, he'd finally be content with life.

-Smokes, both tobacco and weed. He tries to not smoke too much weed though, because if he smells like it he would be easy to track down during battle. Tobacco really helps his nerves and paranoid thinking.

-Sewed animal teeth onto his own hat. He likes his hat a lot, it was a gift from his father. Hunting also reminds him of spending time with his dad & mum, and he likes to go hunt birds to cook, or to go fishing to pass the time off work.

-Enjoys a GNC look sometimes. Considers himself a bit of a girl too, but doesn't really know how to express that to the people around him. "I'm probably nonbinary but I've got a job so idrc about that rn."

-Pierced his ears himself. Has longer, unruly hair that he contains with ponytails and braids. Is very tan because of spending so much of his time outside. Generally dresses in darker clothes during work, as it makes him feel like he blends into the shadows (even though it really makes him stand out a bit more). Always has a slight smile, like he's making fun of you in his head.

-Rarely seen without a weapon of some sort on his person. Also pretty much never seen without his sunglasses on.

BLU:

-Peeked through the brain-scooping-induced veil once and realized he had the same face as someone on the other team. So they scooped his brain even more til it got muddled up. Now he gets frequent, intense migraines and struggles with his balance, and with limb control on his left side. It mostly affects his legs, meaning he can still snipe with good accuracy. He sometimes uses a cane if he feels particularly weak that day.

-Hates his face but can't remember why without his head pounding. He can barely even see it, it feels like. Like a big pixelated mass where it should be. So he covers it a lot, especially during battles and missions.

-Hats make him feel more anonymous. Ranges from very cool ones to the dorkiest bucket hats you've ever seen.

-Likes fishing and nature walks to look for birds. Also goes hunting in the tundra around the BLU base pretty much daily. It's good stress relief.

-Plays guitar, pretty decently too. Also good for stress relief.

-Uses a bow and arrows about as much as he uses his rifle. He hand carves his arrows, wood carving is a very satisfying hobby for him.

-Always seems a little pallid and grey in the face. Especially compared to the deep tan RED Sniper has.

-Cuts or shaves down his hair regularly, only lets it grow back a little. Clean-shaven unless he's doing terribly that week. Has a couple scars that stick around even after respawning. Wears bracelets and necklaces often, though less so during work. Only smiles when he's alone, and in general behaves coldly towards his team.

-Doesn't smoke or drink. Hates the feeling of an altered consciousness.

-Paid his own money for a gun he thought looked better. He's getting tired of being on the losing team all the time.

Bonus

[airandyeah]

Animals (Alpha!Sukuna X Alpha!Toji X Omega!Reader) Pt.1

My Masterlist Series Masterlist Warnings: Obvious A/B/O dynamics, suggestive comments or actions, just generally Minors DNI-just in case. This will be similar to Pink Pony Club and Sins, where I just mark every chapter as 18+

The small town was nothing special—just a handful of streets, a couple of diners, and one overpriced grocery store that barely stocked anything decent. You weren’t sure why you stopped here of all places, but it was the last bit of civilization before the endless stretch of dense forest took over. You had no real intention of staying long, just long enough to grab a coffee and maybe some supplies before heading back to your temporary cabin rental.

The bell above the café door jingled as you stepped inside, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mixing with something richer—something inherently Alpha. You rolled your shoulders, forcing yourself to ignore the way your instincts tensed in response. The last thing you needed was to deal with some overconfident Alpha trying to get too close.

The café was mostly empty, save for a couple of older locals chatting in the corner and—unfortunately—two men seated near the window.

You noticed them immediately.

One was broad and dark-haired, sitting back in his chair like he owned the whole damn place, his sharp green eyes dragging over you as if sizing you up. His aura was overwhelming, dangerous, the kind of Alpha who could break a person in half with those hands alone.

The other was just as bad—tall, pink-haired, covered in tattoos, his expression twisting into something wicked the moment he locked eyes with you. He leaned forward slightly, like a predator catching sight of prey, his smirk sharp enough to cut.

“Didn’t know we were expecting company, huh, Toji?” the pink-haired one mused, eyes never leaving you.

The dark-haired one—Toji, apparently—tilted his head, gaze heavy and unreadable. “Looks like the town finally got interesting.”

You clenched your jaw, fighting the heat creeping up your spine. Their scents were overwhelming, the sheer presence of two Alphas like them making your instincts stir against your better judgment.

You weren’t stupid—you knew their kind. The type of Alphas who took what they wanted, who didn’t take no for an answer.

And the way they were both looking at you? Like they had already decided you were theirs?

Yeah. Not happening.

You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to walk past them toward the counter without a second glance.

You had barely placed your order when you felt them move.

The air shifted, thick with their combined presence, and before you could even consider an escape, they were flanking you—one on either side.

"Didn’t mean to scare you off," the pink-haired one drawled, voice laced with amusement. "We don’t get a lot of pretty little Omegas wandering into town all alone."

You turned your head just enough to glare at him, refusing to acknowledge the way your heart kicked up at his proximity. Up close, he was even more devastating—lean muscle wrapped in inked skin, his eyes burning with something dark and hungry.

"I wasn’t scared," you shot back, voice steady despite the way your instincts were screaming at you to either run or submit. "Just uninterested."

The dark-haired one—Toji—let out a low chuckle, the sound deep enough to send a shiver down your spine. "That so?" he murmured, arms crossing over his broad chest. "Funny. You don’t smell uninterested."

Your fingers curled into fists. "What do you want?"

"Relax, sweetheart," Sukuna smirked, leaning against the counter like he had all the time in the world. "Just being friendly. Figured we should introduce ourselves, since we’re gonna be seeing a lot of each other."

"Doubtful," you muttered.

"Toji Fushiguro," the dark-haired one said smoothly, completely ignoring your resistance. "And this asshole is Sukuna. We live just outside of town."

"In a cozy little cabin," Sukuna added, his grin widening. "You should come by sometime. We’d show you a good time."

Your eye twitched. "Not happening."

Toji’s smirk only deepened. "We’ll see."

The way he said it made your stomach flip—because it wasn’t a question, wasn’t even a challenge. It was a promise.

The barista slid your coffee and a small paper bag across the counter, their eyes flickering between you and the two Alphas hovering far too close. You grabbed your order quickly, muttering a quiet "thanks," before turning on your heel, ready to leave.

But, of course, neither of them were willing to let you go that easily.

"Running off already?" Sukuna teased, shifting just enough to make you sidestep around him. His smirk was all sharp teeth, amusement dancing in his crimson eyes. "Thought we were just getting to know each other."

"Yeah," Toji added, his tone lazy but his gaze sharp as ever. "You sure you don’t wanna stick around? Bet we could make it worth your while."

You huffed, gripping your coffee cup a little tighter. "Not interested."

Sukuna let out a low chuckle, watching you like a predator watching its next meal. "You keep saying that, but your scent’s telling a different story."

Your steps faltered for half a second—barely noticeable, but they noticed.

Toji tilted his head, eyes glinting. "Cute how hard you’re fighting it."

Your teeth clenched as you willed yourself to keep walking. "I’m not fighting anything. You two are just unbearable."

Sukuna let out a mock-offended gasp, clutching his chest. "Ouch, sweetheart. You wound me."

You rolled your eyes and finally pushed past them, making a beeline for the door.

"You’ll come around," Toji called after you, voice filled with certainty.

"Don’t take too long," Sukuna added, grin audible in his tone. "We’re very patient men, but even we have limits."

You didn’t look back. ~~~ Walking back into town the next morning wasn’t planned.

It was supposed to be a quiet day, maybe spent exploring the woods a little or reading in peace. But, of course, your car had other ideas. The damn thing had sputtered, coughed, and promptly died a mile from your cabin, leaving you with no choice but to trek back into town under the early morning sun.

By the time you reached the small auto shop at the edge of town, you were already in a sour mood, muttering curses under your breath as you pushed open the door.

And then you saw them.

Sukuna and Toji, both standing by an old pickup truck, covered in grease and sweat, sleeves pushed up to their elbows as they worked under the hood.

You stopped dead in your tracks.

Of course.

Toji was the first to notice you, wiping his hands off on a rag before leaning lazily against the truck. His sharp green eyes raked over you, that damn smirk already tugging at his lips.

"Well, well," he drawled, voice rich with amusement. "Didn’t expect to see you again so soon, sweetheart."

Sukuna lifted his head from under the hood, a smear of grease across his cheek, and grinned. "Guess you couldn’t stay away."

You exhaled sharply, forcing your expression into something neutral. "Don’t flatter yourselves. My car broke down."

Toji’s smirk widened. "That so?"

"Mm," Sukuna mused, rubbing his jaw like he was deep in thought. "Sounds like fate to me."

You rolled your eyes. "Or bad luck."

Sukuna chuckled, stepping closer, the scent of engine oil and Alpha heat making your instincts stir in a way you refused to acknowledge. "Either way, looks like you need some help."

"I don’t suppose there’s anyone else here who can fix a car?" you asked flatly, glancing around the mostly empty shop.

Toji tsked, shaking his head. "Now, that hurts. You think we’re not good with our hands?"

Sukuna grinned, licking his lips. "We’re real good with our hands, sweetheart."

You clenched your jaw, determined not to let them get to you. "Just fix my car."

Toji chuckled, tossing his rag aside. "You got it, Omega."

Your face heated, but you held your ground, arms crossed as you watched them.

This was not how you wanted to start your morning.

Fixing your car meant one thing you weren’t happy about—showing them where you were staying.

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your temple as the realization settled in. The only way they could fix the damn thing was if they saw it, which meant letting them follow you back to your cabin.

As if reading your reluctance, Toji slung an arm over Sukuna’s shoulder, smirking. "You look like you just swallowed something bitter, sweetheart."

Sukuna chuckled, wiping his hands off on an already dirty rag. "She’s probably pissed she has to let us into her little den." His crimson eyes gleamed as he tilted his head at you. "Don’t worry, Omega. We’ll be on our best behavior."

Somehow, you doubted that.

You inhaled slowly, schooling your expression. "Can you fix it or not?"

Toji made a show of stretching his arms above his head, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal more of that muscled stomach. You definitely weren’t looking. Not at all.

"Yeah, we can fix it," he said, grinning lazily. "But we’ll need to see it first."

You clenched your jaw, then turned sharply toward the door. "Fine. Just follow me."

As you stepped outside, the warm morning air did nothing to cool the heat simmering under your skin. This was a bad idea. Letting two cocky Alphas—who had already made their intentions painfully clear—anywhere near your space was practically asking for trouble.

The sound of heavy boots crunching against gravel followed behind you, their presence impossible to ignore.

"Hope you’ve got a nice place," Sukuna mused as they reached their truck. "Wouldn’t mind seeing what kind of nest a stubborn little Omega like you builds."

You shot him a glare over your shoulder. "You’re fixing my car. That’s it."

Toji just chuckled, climbing into the driver’s seat while Sukuna slid into the passenger side. "Sure, sweetheart," he said, starting the engine. "Whatever you say." ~~~ You stood with your arms crossed as Sukuna wiped his hands off on a rag, looking far too pleased with himself despite the bad news. Toji leaned against the hood of your car, shaking his head.

"Looks like we need a part sent in," Toji said, voice calm but firm. "Fuel pump’s shot. Ain’t something we can just patch up."

You exhaled sharply, staring at your poor, lifeless car like you could will it back to life. "How long?"

Sukuna shrugged. "Depends on when the shop gets the part. Could be a few days, maybe a week."

Your stomach twisted at the thought. You weren’t planning on staying in town long, and now you were stuck—without a car and at the mercy of them.

"Great," you muttered under your breath.

Toji pushed off the car and pulled out his phone, glancing at you. "Here."

You blinked as he held it out. "What?"

"Put your number in."

You scoffed. "Why?"

Sukuna rolled his eyes. "So we can let you know when your part comes in, genius."

You hesitated, still suspicious, but you took his phone and quickly punched in your number before handing it back.

Toji smirked but didn’t say anything. Instead, he typed something, and a second later, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

You didn’t have to check to know he’d sent you a text.

Sukuna held out his own phone next. "Mine too."

You sighed but repeated the process, handing it back as quickly as possible.

This time, Sukuna actually smiled—not his usual smug grin, but something softer. Something almost… genuine.

"Look," he said, slipping his phone into his pocket, "if you need to go anywhere, just call. We’ll drive you."

You blinked. No teasing. No smugness. Just a simple offer.

Toji nodded, arms crossed over his chest. "No strings. Just don’t want you walking everywhere like a dumbass."

You frowned, unsure how to respond. Accepting help from them felt like opening a door you weren’t sure you wanted to walk through. But at the same time… being stuck out here, alone, without a car? Not exactly ideal.

Finally, you sighed. "Fine. But only if I really need to."

Sukuna chuckled. "Sure, Omega. Whatever you say."

You shot him a glare, but this time, he didn’t push it.

Taglist is always open for anyone! Just comment, send an ask, or a DM and I'll add you! Perma Tags: @thenightperson

[arievir]

Rock the boat

Sukuna x you

Warning: violence and blood mentioning

——————————————————————————

In a concealed corner of the vast city of Tokyo, a figure with pink hair kept to the shadows. Neither death nor pain could instill fear in him. What haunted him more than anything was the thought of dying without ever having taken his revenge.

He didn’t know his left hand, Kenta would betray him like this. As he pondered the endless possibilities, he listened intently to the men searching for him, their footsteps echoing through the city in pursuit.

The ruby liquid seeped through his abdomen from the knife. It was too challenging for him to move around recklessly.

One good thing was this hidden spot was still in a university area. Thus, they were unable to make things audible to draw attention from the police.

He looked at his broken phone and attempted to make a call to Uraume. Nonetheless, his vision was too blurred to make it possible.

Luck certainly wasn’t on your side today, as you failed your quiz in class. The sinking feeling deepened when you spotted the red stain on the ground, making you feel even more certain that heaven had it out for you.

You had a feeling something was wrong. Without hesitation, you turned and walked away, determined not to look back. You didn’t need to see the body, and you sure as hell didn’t want your own body discovered either.

“I don’t see things. I was delulu” you whispered softly.

2 steps ahead, you heard a low voice moan in pain.

“T-that was the voice in my head. I don’t hear anything” you told yourself.

“Lulu my ass” a man spoke.

“Let it go, let it go. Can't hold it back anymore” you sang quietly.

“Hey?”

You were about to run away.

CLICK

Your eyes widened as you slowly turned your head to face the man. “D-did you take a photo of me?”

“Mhm, so if I survive, I can kill you later, brat”

“Hey, I don’t wanna help you because I’m a bad person. Annnnnd I’m not an idiot to get myself involved in the mess. You should see yourself bleeding. I mean you gonna die for sure, no?”

He was silent. There was so much he wanted to say to you, but the wound ran too deep for him to speak anything at all.

“Help me and I’ll pay you”

“No, if you die, you enemy will kill me”

“E- either way your photo in my p-phone and you speak with me, s-so your luck is little n-now”

Shit, talking about luck, it was never on your side anyway.

“Hey old man, if you can talk this long, shouldn’t you can survive without me?”

You took out your cardigan and pressed it on his stomach. “Stay here ok? I’ll come back”

He shot you a furious glare. You didn’t say anything. Only thought that your head probably had a hole already.

You gave him your student ID. “Hold it as a token for my promise to come back and get it”

He took it and looked at you. You smeared some of his liquid onto your shirt. You tiptoed back to somewhere farther from him. Wore a mask and a cap while looking for a local minimart.

You asked for help from those elders and showed them the blood on your shirt. You asked them to call for the police.

You concealed yourself nearby, staying hidden until you were sure the bad men had left, the sound of the police siren fading into the distance. Slipping off your cap and mask, you pulled your hoodie tighter around you.

You ran back to where he lay, barely conscious, his eyes half-closed from losing blood. You took back your ID. “Hey! Hey!”

He breathed heavily and looked at you. “Y- back”

“The police are coming this way. Stay awake until then ok?”

At the hospital, the police questioned you a lot. You simply said that you just happened to see him a minute ago before the police arrived. Telling them a girl wearing a mask, a cap, approached you, asking for your help with him.

You didn't mean to lie to them. However, you were frightened that if bad men knew you saw their faces or were the one to ask for help, you would be in danger just like that old man.

The nurse asked if you knew the patient’s name. You let out a sigh and say “Pokki”.

The nurse glimpsed at you and you peeked back at her. “Yeah” you spoke.

“Are you sure it was his name?” The nurse raised a question.

“I don’t know. The woman told me this before leaving”

Well, you lied. You were irritated at how rude he was and threatened you.

You left the hospital after that.

Uraume arrived after you left 5 minutes later. Went to speak with the nurse. “Hello Miss, I’d like to visit Mr. Ryomen, Ryomen Sukuna”

The nurse was checking on her computer. “I apologize, but we don’t have a patient that name coming in today”

Uraume frowned. “Please check again. Was there a patient who got stabbed was brought in by the police?”

“Ahhh! Mr. Pokki!. He’s in room 1215” she smiled.

Uraume was confused, his chest burning like lava, but he still made his way toward the room. His master's life was more important than fixing the name.

He found Sukuna sleeping inside that room. He felt a sense of relief wash over him to know that his master was safe. He was thankful to the one who helped him.

He left the room and asked the nurse to change his master’s name before talking to the police.

Uraume came back from working on documents and police to investigate who tried to harm his master.

“Kenta was gone. I made sure he suffered from what he did to you. He was paid by the politician who wanted to take you down.”

“Why? Because I support another party?”

“Yes, master”

“I see. Did you find out the girl who helped me?”

“About that, there were 2 girls who helped you. The one who found you asked for help from another girl. I- well I heard she told another girl your name was Pokki”

His brown lifted and darted at his right man. He sighed. “Did you see her ID or her photo in my phone?”

“No ID has be found and the photo was not clear, only her back was seen. I believed you were hurt a lot, so was unable to focus when took a picture”

He closed his eyes. Of course, he was a bit annoyed about how the girl would let him die. He was actually more upset that he couldn't find a way to properly reward her. “It’s fine. Make sure you reward the girl who was with me and people who helped me then”

3 months had passed. He made sure his enemy paid for what they did to him. He made sure a man he chose got selected, so his business in the area would keep going smoothly.

He sat in the car that drove by the university area. The memory made him furious with his enemy. He looked outside the window. His brain was thinking about his business.

“Master, that the girl who sent you to the hospital. He annoyingly looked at the direction Uraume pointed.

He completely forgot about you. Somehow, he recalled the face clearly. He then grinned widely. “Smart brat, pretending to be someone else huh”

[writeriguess]

Can you write a Dabi x female reader, where reader is Katsuki's sister and in secret relationship with Dabi?? Reader is not a prohero and doesn't have any quirks. Katsuki is sssssuper protective of her and Dabi just lives for it. He throws hints about her and their relationship while fighting Katsuki, but he doesn't catch up, he thinks it's just some nonsense a crazy person would say. This is probs stupid but I'm just... crazy about Katsuki's sister reader x Dabi trope and I wish there was more of it 😩

author's note: Oh I love this scenario and I loved writing this fic <3

Burned in Secret

You’ve spent your whole life in the shadow of someone explosive—your brother, Katsuki Bakugo. It was never easy being the quirkless sibling of a pro-hero, especially not when that hero was the loudest, most aggressive, and most protective person you knew. He had a way of acting like the world was out to get you, like you were made of glass and would shatter if he wasn’t watching. You loved him for it, but at the same time, he didn’t understand that you weren’t some delicate little thing. You could handle yourself.

And, well… you handled yourself right into the arms of the last person Katsuki would ever approve of.

Dabi.

You weren’t exactly sure how it happened. Maybe it was because, in some ways, he was everything your brother wasn’t. Katsuki was all fire and noise; Dabi was quiet destruction. Where Katsuki burned hot and bright, Dabi burned slow and deep, dangerous in a way that sent a thrill through your veins. You met him through circumstances that should’ve never led to romance—he was a villain, after all. But something about his smirks, the way he looked at you like you were something interesting, something real, had you falling before you even realized it. And despite his nonchalant attitude toward most things, you found that he actually cared in his own twisted way.

The relationship was a secret, of course. If Katsuki ever found out, there’d be hell to pay.

Which is exactly why Dabi loved to drop hints.

The battlefield was in ruins, buildings crumbling, smoke filling the air. Katsuki stood in the middle of it all, blood trickling down his forehead, hands still crackling with residual explosions. He was glaring at the man standing across from him, the one whose stitched grin hadn’t wavered once throughout the fight.

“You just don’t shut up, do you?” Katsuki snarled, flexing his fingers like he was resisting the urge to blast him into oblivion.

Dabi smirked. “What can I say? You’re fun to mess with.” He rolled his shoulders, barely fazed by the heat in the air. “Though I gotta admit, you’re a little denser than I expected.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

Dabi let out a low chuckle, tilting his head just enough to let his bangs fall into his eyes. “Just thinking about how protective you are. Cute, really.”

Katsuki’s scowl deepened. “Shut the hell up.”

“You act like you can keep everything precious to you locked up tight, but people have secrets, Dynamight.” Dabi’s tongue flicked out over his lower lip, dry and cracked. “People do things in the dark they’d never do in the light. Even the ones closest to you.”

Katsuki barely stopped himself from lunging. “What the fuck are you on about?”

Dabi just grinned, the kind of grin that set Katsuki’s teeth on edge. “Nothing. Just thinking about how funny it’d be if someone close to you was keeping a little something from you. Something big.” He raised his hand, wiggling his fingers as if in thought. “Like, I don’t know… a secret relationship?”

Katsuki froze for half a second before shaking his head violently. “You really are a lunatic. What the fuck are you even talking about?”

Dabi just shrugged. “Just a thought.”

With a snarl, Katsuki launched himself forward, palm sparking. Dabi dodged effortlessly, laughing under his breath as if this was all a game to him. In some ways, it was.

Because he knew the truth.

He knew that the moment this fight was over, he’d find you waiting for him in the shadows, worried and scolding him for teasing your brother. He’d get to hear your voice, feel your hands fussing over his burns even though he told you not to bother. He’d get to be with you, touch you, kiss you. And your precious big brother? The one who thought he had everything under control? He had no idea.

And Dabi lived for it.

Later that night, when you met him in your usual spot, you smacked him lightly on the arm. “You were messing with him again, weren’t you?”

Dabi chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Maybe.”

“You’re going to slip up one day,” you huffed, though your hands still rested against his chest. “And he’s going to actually kill you.”

“I’d like to see him try.” He leaned down, brushing his lips over yours. “Besides, what’s life without a little risk?”

You sighed against his mouth, knowing this was just who he was. Knowing that, despite everything, you wouldn’t change him for the world.

And knowing that when Katsuki finally found out, all hell was going to break loose.

[falling-star-cygnus]

Marie Antoinette Syndrome -> OR, the hair in Link Click continues to confuzzle me

I wrote one for Xia Fei, it's only fair to write one for the other mystery of hair follicles that happens to be Lu Guang

tug.

…tug.

tug-

“What are you doing?” Lu Guang finally asks, finally bats away his roommate’s fingers from his tender scalp.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s fingers were gentle, they always were with him [like he was something precious], but it was still annoying. The constant rustle and tug of pure white hair had been going on for nearly ten minutes now.. 

“Huh? Did it hurt?” the dark haired boy asks, ever so conscientious. Not.

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“But did it?”

“...no.”

It honestly didn’t, though maybe Lu Guang had a skewed sense of the word. His scalp.. stung, slightly in that tugged spot, but it didn’t hurt. Barely a bite at what used to withstand- 

-what wasn’t important anymore.

He shouldn’t dwell on something he wasn’t going to return to.  [something he couldn't return to, a person who had changed too drastically to be fixed by different choices]

tug

A vein ticks in his forehead.

"Xiaoshi-"

"You said it didn't hurt!" comes his feeble defense.

It's not feebly stated, but it's weak regardless- the dark haired boy is quickly cowed by his roommates glowering side-eye.

"Your hair is like- white."

...Lu Guang draws in a deep breath through his nose. Closes his novel.

"I hadn't noticed."

Cheng Xiaoshi sputters, and then throws himself into a stand from where he had been leaning over the back of their couch. Even years into living with the boy, the thought of something being theirs sparks a warm glow alight in his chest.

"No it's-" his roommate trips to explain, gesticulating wildly, "unnatural?"

The pale haired boy raises a grey brow, and offers naught but a slow blink.

"Not- not in a bad way!" Cheng Xiaoshi hurriedly tacks on, "You know I think you're handsome!"

"Both of us travel and see through time," Lu Guang states, staunchly ignoring the heat in his ears, "but white hair is where you draw the line?"

"I didn't mean it like that!"

This light argument between the two, if it could even really be called that, usually stirred something free in his lungs- usually made his breaths come a little smoother. Having someone that didn't care if he was perfect, that didn't care if he was- well, antisocial was the word most often used- was...

..it was nice.

Usually.

Now his chest tightened like a knot in red yarn, his throat coated in the dirt of memories he'd thought he'd buried. His hands shaking.

Different hands- warm, calloused hands that are rough from so many years of basketball- cup his cheeks. A thumb brushes over his eyelashes, terrifyingly gentle, and for a heart stopping moment Lu Guang fears it'll pull away wet.

It doesn't, and he's pulled into the present.

"Your hair is way too soft to be dyed!" Cheng Xiaoshi exclaims, like it was fact, "But your eyelashes are dark. So are your eyebrows."

His thumb trails over one of those next, and Lu Guang is too confused to be panicked anymore.

"What's up with that?"

"It's not dyed." evade, evade, evade.

"Well, duh. I would've seen your roots by now." the photographer states plainly, before raising a hand to his chin, "Unless it's your eyebrows that are dyed..."

"By now-? How long have you been thinking about this?"

Change the subject.

"A co- hey! I know what you're doing!"

Run.

But he can't. Lu Guang feels small again, feels stuck under disgusted eyes, and feels trapped. He's not the time traveler that's watched his best friend die in his arms over and over again. Or the boy that threw a punch at a man so much stronger than he could ever be.

He's [???] and he's scared.

He's never felt scared of Cheng Xiaoshi before. For, yes. Lu Guang is always scared something will happen- that something will take him away.

But he knows that's not who he's seeing.

"If you don't want to tell me, then that's all you have to say!"

The words were comforting in the past- present? Future-? Where is he? But the raised tone, one that came with being friends with this boy, are- it...

"When have I ever- Lu Guang?" "What have I ever done to you, Lu Guang."

Their voices overlap. Someone he hasn't known since the death of his father and someone he's lost too many times.

"Hey... Guangguang." "Hey!"

Those once warm hands gently jostle his face. Cruel hands tug at his scalp.

"Don't do that-! Look at me-" "DON'T LOOK AT ME-!"

Lu Guang is only catching bits and pieces of things that don't connect. Too many threads, too much red.

"Come on.. come back to me, already-!" "Get out! GET OUT! DON'T COME BACK-"

The thumb that had been so gentle in brushing his eyelash raises again, his cheeks are hot and sticky with salt, and the novel- manga- what is he holding? It drops to the floor anyway.

When he flinches away from that calloused digit, it's only into the meat of the palm holding his other cheek.

Stuck.

Lu Guang can't breathe.

It's not a particularly new feeling, this thief in his chest, but it hurts all the same. Hurts like the first time, hurts like bitten fingernails digging into small arms, like the deaths he can't stop-

The hands leave his face, which is a relief at first- then a nightmare of cold. Cold streaked with wet heat.

Fingers curl around Lu Guang's wrists, thumbs against his palms, and carefully detangle pale hands from paler hair. He hadn't even realized he started tug-tug-tugging at it.

Just as his vision starts to haze at the edges, starts to show him things that he'd thought were over, something connects with his mouth.

Specifically- another one.

It's gentle, more than anything and barely anything at the same time. Just a gentle press that has to feel disgusting with all the tears running down his face.

But it's real.

It's real, and the pale haired boy's hands go limp from where Cheng Xiaoshi has threaded theirs together.

He's not in that house, but he's home.

The dark-haired boy pulls back slowly, carefully, and his cheeks are pink. And Lu Guang's are on fire. What the hell-

"Why would you- What was that for!?" he nearly screeches, and it would throw his roommate back if it wasn't for their connected hands, "You idiot-"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry-" Cheng Xiaoshi yelps, untangling their fingers to throw his up in placation, "I read somewhere that k-kiss- shocking someone could knock them out of a panic attack!"

The fact that he couldn't even say the verb would be endearing, if it weren't also for the fact that Lu Guang still felt hysterical. Now for an entirely different reason.

"And- and I didn't want to hit you, so.."

Those warm hands are cautious this time, when they reach for his face, and he can't help but shrink away from the contact. They end up hovering maybe an inch away.

"...are you feeling b- GUANGGUANG!?"

Kitten grey eyes, or so they're described, roll back.

Despite Cheng Xiaoshi's best efforts, Lu Guang passes out anyway.

[torahtot]

knees weak palms are sweaty there's vomit on my sweater already. starting drafting a vulnerable and honest mother's day letter to my mom

[californianedgeworth]

the amount of people who point out Steven as some kind of money hungry villain manipulating Shane and Ryan in the whole Watcher debacle is so annoying. clearly they just liked Shane and Ryan a lot better and want to take culpability away from them. but all 3 of them made this decision, as far as we know they're all equally accountable. stop making conspiracies based off people's lives you don't know so you can continue to justify your parasocial relationship jfc

[elenaramirez]

Elena doesn’t miss the way Beck’s words falter when she pulls her shirt off. In fact, she preens at it, stretching her arms above her head just for the hell of it before lazily letting them drop. She’s always known she has a body worth looking at, but making Beck look? That’s a different kind of thrill altogether.

“Mhm,” she hums, pretending not to notice the blush creeping up Beck’s neck—though the answering smirk tugging at her lips betrays her. She could tease her about the SPF 50, about how she won’t be getting a tan anytime soon—would tease her—but the thought of her own hands on Beck’s skin has her distracted. “Let me know if you need me to get your back,” she says instead. The offer is casual, like it’s nothing at all, but there’s no missing the teasing lilt to her voice.

She shifts just enough to watch Beck out of the corner of her eye when she runs a hand through her hair. It pulls at the muscles in Beck's stomach, and—yeah. Elena is weak for abs. Weak for Beck in general, if she’s being honest with herself. But that’s dangerous territory, so she keeps her voice smooth, easy, as she murmurs, “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

The words sit heavier than she means them to—because Elena knows she won’t. For all the debauchery, her insides twist at the thought of pulling the other girl down with her.

The sound of Beck’s giggle makes her chest tighten, but she plays it off, lips quirking up as she watches her through half-lidded eyes. She likes making Beck laugh. Likes making her happy. But she knows she’s not the kind of person who gets to be that for her. So Elena keeps her distance. A few well-placed quips, a little flirting—just enough to keep Beck looking, to keep her attention—but never too much. Never close enough to get caught.

And yet.

Beck's line of sight drops to her lips.

Elena feels it like a spark catching, her own gaze flickering downward in response.

Her tongue flicks out, just barely dampening her lips before she realizes what she’s doing. Before she catches herself, pulls back with a laugh—too loud, too sharp. “You're a fucking lightweight,” she accuses, shoving at Beck’s shoulder as if that explains everything. As if it’s just the alcohol. As if it doesn’t make her pulse stutter. As if she doesn���t want Beck to kiss her—doesn’t want to be the one who gets to kiss Beck. Preferably over and over and over again.

"I knew I kept you around for a reason," Elena exclaims in delight when Beck produces a lighter, grinning as she reaches for her wrist. “Allow me.” She doesn’t take the lighter, just catches Beck’s hand and tugs it closer, the flame flickering between them. Her thumb brushes against the soft skin at the inside of Beck’s wrist, just because she wants to, just because she can. Elena holds Beck’s gaze as she lights the joint between her lips, inhales slow and deep before finally pulling away. But even as she settles back next to Beck, she doesn’t let go of her hand.

She exhales the first puff of smoke, watching the way it curls into the air before she tips the joint away from her lips to study the ember glow at the tip. “Ever done blowbacks before?”

Elena doesn’t wait for an answer. Just sits up and shifts, turning toward Beck fully, legs crossing as she brings the joint to her mouth. The smirk playing at her lips deepens. “Here,” she murmurs, voice low, lazy, thick with smoke as she leans in just a fraction and brings the burning end to her own lips. “Just follow my lead.”

Her fingers find the nape of Beck’s neck, featherlight. A barely-there touch. Steadying. Guiding her forward.

It’s an excuse, really—just another excuse to touch her.

But fuck, she'll take it.

Beck rolls her eyes playfully at Elena's comment, though there is a subtle pang of concern as she mentions not hanging out with her, even if it is a joke. She tries not to let it show, but there's a subtle crease between her brows for just a moment, before she recovers quickly with her usual bright grin. Beck didn't have many proper friends in school, and she'd begun to realise she really valued her time with the girl. Maybe more than she cares to admit.

Her smile softens as Elena holds her arm against hers, a slight pang of warmth in her chest at the contact. "You're probably right. You should have seen me when I went to the beach with my sister last summer, my whole back turned the brightest shade of-" Beck's cut off when Elena shrugs her own shirt off, the lacy bra underneath revealed. She was definitely a shade of lobster now - but it was from the hot blush that had spread brightly over her cheeks, rather than the UV. Of course, she was used to changing with Elena in the sports hall locker room, but... there was something about her, here under the sun, that had Beck's mind reeling. There's a prolonged moment of gawking before she quickly regains grip on reality, turning away from Elena for a very well timed moment to search for some sun screen in her bag. "I, uh... I mean, I think I have some SPF 50 in here, anyway." Her words are stumbling, despite how hard she tries to keep hold of her usual cool persona.

Taking another full swig from the champagne to calm her nerves, Beck can't help but laugh playfully at Elena's joke. "Absolutely right. I've never known you to cause trouble ever. You're a living angel." She grins mischeviously towards her, running a hand through her hair to spread it out behind her. "Whatever it is they say you've done, you know I'll always give you an alibi, anyway."

She can't help but giggle as Elena flaps her hands around, breathing out a dramatic gasp as she taps her on the arm. When Elena shuffles closer, Beck feels that familiar shift of tingling beneath her skin. Yet, this time she's prepared, keeping her cool as a confident smile extends over her features - or maybe it's just the start of the mild buzz from the alcohol. "Yes, yes. Chocolates and champagne. But... maybe there's one other thing I wanted for Valentine's." She allows her eyes to momentarily glance down to Elena's lips, a challenging smirk appearing. She lets the moment hang between them for a second, before she then looks to the joint. There's a subtle anxiety there - skipping class and drinking were one thing, but outright smoking on school grounds... that was another ball game. Still, though, she didn't want to show fear in front of Elena - so she reaches again into her backpack, pulling out a worn looking lighter. "Good thing I have this then, hm?"

[theultracharmingladynoire]

.