#i have another version with a smile but i thought this one matched better with the singing

[picspammer]

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere Eldritch being who has taken over your entire town.

TW. Dead Dove Do Not Eat Horror, confinement, isolation, death, Stockholm syndrome, yandere

You didn’t know when it had happened, but there was something very obviously wrong with your town.

It was the little things like the warped street signs, the inconsistent cracks in the sidewalk, and the way that the uncanny faces of people seemed to stare at you. It didn’t use to be like this, but you found yourself cautious about your new reality on the daily. You did try to leave and call for help, but there was some mysterious force cutting off your network. And when you did try to pack all your bags and high tail it out of there, you would end up just looping straight back on your street no matter what direction you drove in.

So now you made do with the fact that nothing was normal.

You sometimes wonder why whatever has infected all the people decided to leave you alone. Because there was no way it wasn’t a conscious decision. Your favorite flowers would start sprouting out of concrete walls and glass despite the fact it would be the middle of winter one day and a scorching summer the next. Not to mention, those flowers didn’t even grow here to begin with. It was a gesture. If it was meant to tempt or be kind, you weren’t sure. 

The town functioned like nothing was out of the ordinary, though. Well, at least it tried to puppet the barely real bodies of your community to do things they would daily. The grocery store always had food and figures milling about, and even though none of the products ever tasted quite right or had words in a real language, you could tell “it” was trying to keep things running for you.

You’d once tried to hide away in your house, thinking that it was somehow protecting you from whatever was out there. But all you did was make it angry. Constant thunderstorms that shook the ground, and hail that pounded on your roof and walls. When you continued to stay inside, that’s when it made things clear: it was letting you stay as you were. The house shifted dramatically, doors disappearing and walls bending in front of your eyes. 

Come outside. Stop trying to resist.

Privacy was just another one of those far-out concepts now.

The thing, as you so liked to call it, had been more affectionate lately. You didn’t know exactly how to describe it, but it had started morphing all the “people” into more attractive versions of themselves. Or at least, what it thought of as attractive to humans. Their faces were more tangible now and less blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, but they were uncanny in a new way. Skin too smooth, too perfect in so many different ways. Symmetrical, full lips, pleasant expressions, soothing voices: all things that on paper would lure someone in, but it had alarm bells ringing in your head nearly all the time now.

“I don’t like this, you know,” You said one day as you sat in the diner. The room was stretched out wider than what it looked like on the outside, and the waitress had an unnaturally wide smile. Before you was a plate of… something. Your guess was pancakes.

“What do you mean?” Several voices asked at once. It came from all around, and the waitress’s mouth barely moved to match the words. 

“ I like you better when you aren’t trying so hard to be something you weren’t.”

There was a pause, and the building slowly unraveled into a jumbled mess of things that you could barely comprehend, the other patrons' faces and bodies melting away into linoleum floors. 

“You’re not human. You don’t have to be. I think I’d prefer that honestly,” You shrugged and poked at your food. From the corner of your eyes, a figure seemed to emerge from the mess of what used to be your favorite restaurant. It was a writhing mass of dark tendrils, reaching for anything nearby. You’re breath caught in your throat.

“Do you really mean that?”

The voice spoke, but there wasn’t any face to accompany it. It reverberated in the base of your spine, racing through your nerves like lightning. Your breath hitched, and you finally gathered enough courage to look at it. It was a mess of things you couldn’t quite make out, but it was almost comforting. 

“This is the first time I’ve actually seen you,” you admitted, a small laugh of disbelief caught in your throat. You couldn’t help but smile. It was the first time it had actually listened to you. 

The being twitched, pulsing as it slid over towards where you were sitting at the booth. It was the only thing that had stayed intact. For something so expressionless, you’d dare to say it seemed shy. 

From the inky mass, one tendril reached out for you, the air around it crackling. You stayed in place as it slid over your hand, and you felt the wonder and relief.

“Will you stay with me? I don’t want to force you, but I’m so alone… you’re the only one who doesn’t disappear when I’m near.”

You blinked as the mass filled the cracks between your hands, folding into the lines of your palms as if trying to memorize you. If it had a hand, you’d be holding it. If it had lips, yours would be slotting against them. If it had a heart, you were certain they’d be painted a similar shade of loneliness. 

You stood up and slowly approached it, holding out your arms as you leaned in, wrapped your arms around its slowly forming figure, and nodded in silence. 

[lazysoulwriter]

you said my name on live tv! - pedro pascal.

requested! thank you for sending, honey. hope you enjoy.

---

Pedro wasn’t supposed to say your name.

You both knew the rules — or at least, the one unspoken agreement that had kept your relationship safely under wraps for the last six months: no public mentions, no soft launches, no clues. You weren’t famous, and he liked it that way. Liked the quiet normalcy of it. Liked how no one in your world cared about red carpets or premiere dates, only if you were free for brunch or needed help picking out plants for the apartment.

But today, during a perfectly standard interview for a late-night show, Pedro forgot.

It started innocently. The host had asked a string of questions about Pedro’s chaotic schedule — something about jetlag and coffee addictions — and then, mid-laugh, the host joked:

“So who keeps you grounded when you’re not off being the internet’s daddy?”

Pedro, in all his charming glory, chuckled, eyes sparkling. “Oh, Y/N does,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “She reminds me to sleep like a human being.”

The studio audience didn’t catch it. Not really. Just a name dropped in a sea of Pedroisms.

But the internet did.

The clip hit Twitter before the show even ended. Zoomed-in, subtitled, slowed down.

“WHO IS Y/N AND WHY IS PEDRO PASCAL SMILING LIKE THAT WHEN HE SAYS HER NAME??”

“y/n… you better treat him right i swear to GOD.”

“do we think y/n is someone we know? a celeb?? no info anywhere. queen’s in hiding.”

“you guys she’s not famous. i did a deep dive. she’s just. a person. and he’s in love.”

—

Back in your shared apartment, you’re sprawled on the couch, one leg thrown over Pedro’s, a big hoodie drowning your frame and a bowl of popcorn slowly going stale between you.

Pedro looks sheepish, his phone buzzing non-stop. “I really didn’t mean to say it.”

You’re giggling, face tucked into his shoulder. “I told you that interview was live.”

“I forgot, baby. I was tired and they were being funny and then your name just… came out.”

You poke his side. “So now the whole world knows Pedro Pascal has a girlfriend named Y/N who tells him to go to sleep.”

He flips the phone so you both can see the flood of TikToks and tweets. One fan made a slideshow of blurry Pedro candids captioned “thinking about her” set to a Phoebe Bridgers song. Another user made a fake "Y/N Pascal" Vogue cover. Someone even made a fan edit of your blurry Instagram pictures that you thought were private, matched up with Pedro's, like they were connecting some conspiracy.

You both dissolve into laughter, tears welling up in your eyes from how ridiculous it all is.

Pedro wipes a crumb from your cheek and grins. “Should I post a picture of us now? Since it’s out?”

You raise an eyebrow. “What kind of picture?”

He shrugs. “Just… us. Normal. No face filters. No drama.”

You hum, pretending to think it over. “Okay. But I get to pick the caption.”

“And what are you gonna put?”

You grab your phone, snuggle back into his side, and type it out slowly.

“yes, it’s me. no, you can’t have him.”

Pedro bursts out laughing. “That’s evil.”

“That’s iconic,” you correct him, and press post.

The internet loses its mind again. But this time, you’re not just laughing from the sidelines. You’re in it. Together. On the same couch, eating popcorn, letting the world fall in love with a version of what you already have.

Just… a little more out loud now.

---

[atlabeth]

geyser

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.

a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song

wc: 6.5k

warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs

also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on

Percy thought that his head might explode. 

He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 

At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.

All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 

“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 

“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 

“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 

Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 

“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 

“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 

“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 

Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”

Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 

But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 

The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 

His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.

There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 

Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”

That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 

“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”

“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 

“She did.” 

He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 

“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 

“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 

Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 

Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 

“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”

Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”

“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”

Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 

“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”

An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 

Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 

He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 

Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 

…Gods. 

Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 

-

“Luke—” 

“No!” 

“Luke, please!” 

“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 

“She won’t know!” 

“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 

Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 

“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 

“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 

“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 

“If you say a single word—” 

“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 

“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 

“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 

“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 

“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”

“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 

“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 

“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 

To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 

“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 

Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 

You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”

And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 

Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 

Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 

Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.

But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 

Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.

You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 

Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 

“Never better.” 

-

“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 

Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 

“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 

Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 

He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 

He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 

Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 

He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 

“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  

Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 

He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 

“I’m curious,” he decided. 

Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…

Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 

“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 

“And how it killed the cat?” 

He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 

“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 

Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 

“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 

He nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Who’s her parent?” 

Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 

“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 

Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 

He had a sister? 

“I have a sister?” 

“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 

A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 

He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 

Gods. 

“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 

Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 

One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 

“How did you meet her?” 

“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”

Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 

“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 

Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 

Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  

“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 

“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  

Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 

“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 

The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 

Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 

Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 

-

Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 

He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 

“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 

“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 

Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 

“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 

“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 

Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 

“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  

Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 

“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 

Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  

Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 

He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 

“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 

“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 

Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 

Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 

Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 

Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.

“A happier part, then,” he suggested.

“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 

In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 

A letter. 

“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 

Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 

So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 

To the one and only Luke Castellan, 

My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.

I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 

Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 

But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 

Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 

I can’t wait to see you again.

Your hurricane.  

It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 

Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 

“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 

Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 

“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 

“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”

Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 

I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 

“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”

Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 

He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 

Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 

“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 

Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 

“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 

He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”

Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 

“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 

-

After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 

Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 

Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 

“You’re awake,” she said. 

“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 

“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 

“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 

They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 

“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 

“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 

Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 

“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 

Annabeth went silent. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 

“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 

“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 

Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 

That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 

“How did you meet her?” he asked. 

Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”

-

For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 

It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.

The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 

She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 

But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 

Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 

Where was Thalia? 

Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 

Thalia— 

“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 

“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 

Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 

“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 

Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?

You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 

“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 

“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 

“Annabeth!” 

Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 

“Luke, you’re hurt—” 

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 

“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 

Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 

When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 

“Luke?” you whispered. 

Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 

“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 

“My friends—” 

“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 

Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 

So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 

She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 

The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 

-

You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  

You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 

Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.

You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.

A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 

“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 

Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 

“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 

You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 

Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”

You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 

He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 

“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 

“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 

“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 

“You know what I mean.” 

Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 

“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 

“The usual,” you mumbled. 

“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 

You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 

“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 

“Bullseye.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 

“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 

“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 

Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you murmured. 

You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 

That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 

“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 

“Just like old times,” you whispered. 

“Just like old times,” he agreed. 

Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 

There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 

How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 

Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 

“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 

And by the gods, you believed him. 

[jifloulette]

reo brainrot is plaguing my mind so here's some short bf hcs !!!!!

note ; oh my god this was rotting in my drafts since NOVEMBER. finally got the energy to finish the last one my gosh..

bf reo mikage whose mood completely depends on yours !

his classmates find it silly how you could be sitting on your chair feeling down because of a low test score you got and reo would be there beside you, seemingly sad too, but because of what?? he got an A+ on the same test after all..? his family finds it relieving to see reo smiling beamingly whenever you're smiling, you wouldn't even be smiling directly at him yet he'd still look gleeful! his teammates find it weird how reo could be mad at them, yelling and yelling, shouting and shouting, reminding them to play properly and get their act together and then you come in unannounced with a box of cookies and that same smile reo adores, suddenly his eyes light up and he's squealing when you come closer to him as if he just didn't swear the living shit out of his teammates. if reo could do cartwheels and frontflips, he would've done those on the way to you because he is just so madly in love with youuuuu!!!!

bf reo mikage who absolutely loves hearing go on and on and on about your day !

he especially loves it more when you're spilling tea about people from your class. i mean yeah he knows it's bad but he can't help it? the way you're so focused on telling him an almost 3 minute gossip about this one girl in your history class is all he needs to just lay there on bed with you as he caresses your hair. those moments seldom happen, it usually has you having him lay on your chest while you talk about the funny incident at math class where your teacher forgot about the quiz that was supposed to be taken today and how you got 2 drinks from the vending machine instead of one because you had stumbled over air and hit the machine harshly which caused another drink to fall down. oh and he sees your eyes glimmer up and how you almost always run out of breath because you just have so much to tell him! even if he's always clinging to you either by interlocking arms or grabbing your waist, you'll always have some stories to ramble that even he doesn't know off!

bf reo mikage who impulsively buys anything he sees in stores that remind you of him !

it's a bad habit of his but is it really that bad when he gets to feel you embrace him when he shows you the new matching keychains he bought the two of you? though you tend to scold him for spoiling you rotten, nothing will ever stop him from buying you gifts and trinkets because that's his love language! passing by popmart and sees the mofusand hippers? automatically buys FIVE because he thought they looked like you whenever you were zoning out which is a telltale sign that you badly needed reo to give you a piggyback ride home, not that he minded it though. he's scrolling through facebook and an ad for a jacket pops up? he's already buying two versions, one for you and one for him so that you guys can match! reo def gets offended when you ask him how much they cost and that you'll pay him back because he is your BOYFRIENDDD, he will buy those gifts with NO intention of getting something back.

bf reo mikage who lets you do all sorts of hairstyles on him !

he will also proudly show it off when you guys are at school too, he could care less about what other people think because why would he? his s/o did that hairstyle for him so why should he be ashamed? you would see a cute hairstyle post whilst scrolling through Tiktok and wanted to try it out, but before doing it on you, what better way to see if it was cute by trying it out on your boyfriend? reo wouldn't even try to say no because he wouldn't mind it at all, plus it was a good way to spend time with you. you would let him hold your phone as you try to follow the steps in the video as quickly yet properly as you can. after a few mistakes and redos, you had finished the look and dare you say, it may fit him better than you.. reo looked really good even though the hairstyle was a bit on the feminine side. he'd keep it on for the entire day, not caring or doing anything when the teachers tell him to take it off (rich boy privileges LMAO) oh and later on, you'd also put pins and hairclips on him too! the ones that matched his hair and eyes! this would also be a frequent sleepover activity the two of you do, reo would set up a space in his room dedicated to THIS specific thing!!!

©🇯​​🇮​​🇫​​🇱​​��​​🇺​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else. ౨ৎ

[defmaybe]

A Romantic and Incomplete Guide to Tokyo

12 Days of Christmas: Day 8, January 1st, 2025

STAYC’s Yoon Seeun x Male Reader

3.7k words

Christmas Masterlist

The chilly air courses through your body inside Narita—thought it’d be warmer inside the building. You rub your hands, seeking just a tiny amount of warmth. Fuck, how cold is it?

The weather app shows a single digit temperature. Even the three-layer clothing you’re wearing doesn’t help, really.

Fuck.

“So, we’ll match you into pairs. For those who are already in a group–” you can’t quite focus on what the guides are saying. You’ve barely slept on the plane. The cabin croaked and cried all the way. God, it’s going to be another bad first day.

You’re too focused on your predicament to hear the voice of a woman beside you.

“Hey.”

Fuck, this place is cold.

“Hey.” Her voice is finally processed by your mind with a tap on your shoulder. You’re jolted out of your trance. Beside you is a somewhat tall (well, as tall as you), smiling woman. She doesn’t seem to be that much of a talkative person, judging from how she fully buttons her coat. You can handle that. 

Her eyes are gorgeous. It’s a pair that might hypnotize you somewhere along the trip. Her face is more on the wider side. She looks beautiful nonetheless. Fuck, you forgot to say something. Did you just stare at her like that? Good grief, first day and it’s over for you!

“Yeah, I get it. I didn’t sleep last night either,” she says with a chuckle. What a relief.

You blink to refresh yourself from the fatigue. “Y–Yeah, hi!”

You tell her your name. She tells you her name—Seeun. She tells you that people often misread her name as See-un, which is funny because she happens to have a friend named Sieun. Both of you are from the same city, though you two have probably never met each other.

“So, what do you do?”

“I’m in the entertainment industry,” she answers with a shy smile.

With a face like that, yeah, she probably is.

—

“Definitely, Maybe.”

“What, did you watch it at fourteen or something?” Seeun asks with a chuckle. “I thought it was like–a three-star movie.”

“Yeah.”

“I see.”

The two of you are treading aimlessly inside Tower Records (the Shibuya one), trying to find a few albums to take back to your homes. You’ve picked up a few. She has picked up a few.

“That feels a bit–condescending,” you say with a forced smile, a little disheartened. Come on, Seeun, you don’t have to be so rude!

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I mean–mine’s not much better either,” she apologizes, guilt looming in her voice.

“What is it?”

“The Last Jedi.”

You halt your movements, shocked by her answer. Sure, The Last Jedi still have a lot of supporters, but you didn’t expect her to be one of them.

“Really?”

She stops walking along with you, doubling down on her answer. “Yeah.”

“That’s brave,” you say.

She chuckles. “What? Are you going to say that I’m tasteless or something?” She walks past your face to pick up Good Riddance. You also have one back at your home from your trip a few years ago, the deluxe one.

“I gave it four and a half stars,” you reply. That’ll definitely impress her.

“That’s cool,” she says, eyes still focused on the album. Her expression seems happier, though. “What do you like about it?”

You lean in closer to Seeun to look at the back of the album with her. It’s the deluxe version, sixteen songs. If she wants to buy one, this should be it. “I love a movie with a vision.”

A smile escapes Seeun’s lips. She’s clearly impressed by your answer. “Says the one who has a two-thousands romance as their favorite,” she playfully teases.

“Fourteen is a crucial age in human development,” you scoff. “What did you watch back then?”

“Award winners,” she says, putting Good Riddance on top of a stack of Souvlaki, Pet Grief, Charm, and a few more albums you’ve never quite heard of. Unlock My World? Titanic Rising? 

“I had a lot of free time during the summer before my ninth–or tenth grade, so I kinda just watched whatever was in the award-winner section on Netflix.”

She counts the stack. It’s at six albums, for now. “But yeah, I particularly love The Last Jedi because Rian did what Jeffrey didn’t, or wasn’t brave enough to. Star Wars can be too safe a lot of times.” She continues walking into the G aisle, and you have to catch up with her.

“I get that,” you say, glancing around for potential candidates for your stack, nothing as of now. “So, just The Last Jedi, or–”

“Steel Magnolias,” she cuts you off sternly, confidently. You’re not surprised (both with the choice and how she cut you off). They really scream her.

“That feels more like you.”

A small laugh escapes her lips. 

“You could’ve just asked for my Letterboxd, you know?”

—

The ramen shop is filled with tour group members. No loud chattering, of course. The tour guide explicitly asked for that. It might disturb the other visitors.

You and Seeun are sitting with two other fellow travelers. The two of you are too shy to say a thing, though, so you just let Yeonjun and Miyeon shoot questions at you for the whole dinner. These two look so damn good. It’s as if they’re idols or something.

You learned about Seeun a little more. She has a younger brother. She was raised in Pyeongtaek. She has two cats at her parents’. You notice the way she keeps scrunching her nose. She looks so cute doing so.

She seems to love Shoyu ramen, but judging from a single order doesn’t seem fair. She eats with her mouth closed; that’s a good sign. Her mannerisms are just too perfect for a person. Her time in the industry probably teaches her a lot of this.

You trade contacts with Yeonjun and Miyeon as you finish the meal. It seems that they really are idols, after all.

“Maybe we can meet again soon? Like–after the trip,” Yeonjun asks.

Miyeon laughs softly, “You’ll have to be a bit conservative with your clothes, though. We don’t want any attention on us.”

“Sure,” you answer, and that’s a date.

—

“So, how about we keep switching every day? Four nights, that should be two for each.”

In front of you is a double bed.

A double bed.

You cannot fathom the idea of sleeping next to a person who you've known barely a day. It’s going to be awkward. You cannot do this!

“Y–You said you work in the entertainment industry, right?” You can’t risk her back just for your own comfort. Don’t be an asshole! Help her!

“Yeah, and?” she makes a slightly puzzled expression.

“Well, I don’t want your back to–”

“Do you know you can just ask them for a cushion?”

“Oh,” you utter. That was embarrassing.

“I’m not going to be a snobby bitch over a bed, you know?” she says with a giggle.

—

You cannot sleep that well last night, even with the cushion. Now, you’re walking along a road in Harajuku, a little fatigued, a little tired.

You take in the atmosphere around you, trying to inhale some clean fresh air. The trees are more than abundant. What an atmosphere. It feels so cozy, so comfortable. God, you just wish you could live here forever.

Seeun seems to notice the exhaustion that’s creeping up on you, though.

“Good sleep?” she asks, trying to gauge your current state. You’re tired, of course, but you can’t let her know that.

“Y–Yeah.” Well, the stutter in your voice is evident. That’s bad.

She chuckles, patting your back softly. Your body shudders at her apparently friendly touch.

“Well, it’s my turn tonight.”

The two of you trod along the streets of Harajuku. You take a few pictures. She takes a few pictures.

—

Well, you’re feeling a little guilty now. The bed is just feeling too comfy. Seeun is probably hurting her back down there.

You keep shifting and turning on your bed, unable to sleep. A lot is going through your head right now.

“Seeun?”

No answer.

“Seeun?”

Still no answer.

You lean your head over the edge, only to find Seeun already in slumber. A small smile is painted on her face. It’s probably a good dream.

You should just let her sleep.

—

“So.”

It’s Yokohama day. You’re sitting at a Starbucks under some tower, while the others seem to be enjoying themselves somewhere else. The chilly wind blows on your face.

“How about we–uh,” you pause, trying to gather the courage to say the next words.

“You’re making it look like it’s something bad,” she says, chuckling. A cup of hot latte rests in her hand idly.

“I’d argue that it’s pretty weird.”

“And I’d argue that I won’t be mad at you, like–how bad can it be?”

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to say the next words.

“Can we–Can we just–sleep on the bed together?” you ask, avoiding her eyes. The last few words come out a bit too fast, but you believe that the message was delivered, nonetheless.

She lets out a smile. “Sure, why not?”

You do a double take. You’re shocked that she’d say yes to it as easily as that. “That was easy.”

“My back fucking hurts.” And you two let out a laugh together.

—

She smells good.

It’s already one in the morning, but you’re still shaking in the dripping anxiety of sleeping next to her. And with that smell. You just can’t sleep.

Fucking hell.

“Seeun.”

“Yeah?” she answers immediately. God, hasn’t she slept yet?

“What perfume do you use?” And you hear a giggle come from your side.

“Dior’s Sakura,” she says.

“Can I–uh–see it?” you ask.

She grabs the bottle. You’re expecting her to hand you that, but suddenly, she sprays it on her wrist.

“Wh–Wha–”

She gives you her wrist, and the smell reaches your nose before you can say a word. You close your eyes. It’s so intense, yet so fresh, like spring.

“O–Oh.”

“How was it?” she asks with a giggle.

“It was–uh–pretty good.”

Seeun bursts out a laugh. “Come on, it’s definitely better than pretty good. Like–look at your face!”

It’s definitely better than pretty good. “Y–Yeah, it’s–heavenly, Seeun.”

“You want some more? C’mon, grab my arm. It’s yours,” she invites you, and to be honest, there has never been any arm you’d want to take in its scent more than Seeun’s.

With your instinct, you pull Seeun’s right arm closer to your nose, before taking a deep breath full of her scent, eyes closed. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that you’re in heaven right now.

You hear Seeun laughing from the left. It’s a bit weird to sniff a woman’s arm like this, really, but you couldn’t care less right now.

“I don’t think you should stop just there, baby,” she suddenly blurts out.

The word spurs you on. You immediately go over Seeun’s body to have her below you, all smiling and blushing. She’s avoiding your gaze. She’s shy, but she wants this. She’s craving for this, and so are you.

“What should I do with you, Miss Yoon?” you tease her, drawing a line in the middle of her chest with your index finger, making her keen softly.

“A–Anything, baby. I need you–right now.”

You immediately latch your lips with hers, invading her mouth aggressively. She tastes like strawberry. The wet sound of kissing rings over your ear.

“So–So good,” she mutters into the blazing kiss. Her hands quickly pull down your pants, revealing your throbbing cock underneath. She then starts jerking you off with her filthy hand. She wants to milk you dry as quickly as possible.

You pull back from the kiss. A string of saliva connecting your lips is evident. That looks so fucking hot. Below, she’s still rubbing your cock up and down, making your whole body shiver in pleasure.

“M–My god, Seeun,” you groan.

She only chuckles, before drawing her hand back, leaving you whining in the absence of her.

“Can’t have you cum outside of me, baby,” she whispers, unbuttoning her top. Her beautiful cleavage comes into view. Her nipples sit just around the edge of her shirt. You quickly swathe her shirt away, revealing her hard, dusky nipples. She’s ready for you.

Immediately, you latch your needy mouth onto her buds. The mixture of the salty taste of her sweat and her scent of spring are mixed into an aphrodisiac. Her raw, unfiltered moans fill your ears.

“Yes, yes, fuck!” she mewls. Her hands pressing your head onto her breasts. God, what a feeling.

You lavish her tits, hands trying to get rid of her shirt. She lifts herself up from the bed slightly to give way, and finally, the obstructing shirt leaves her taut body, exposing her upper body in all glory for you.

Still, it’s not enough. You need more. You need more. Your mouth travels down her toned tummy, making her moan is pure pleasure. Finally, you reach the edge of her pants, and you slowly, so, so slowly, pull them down, exposing her wanton cunt. Fuck, she’s already wet.

“Nghhh~” Seeun groans, a hand reaching down to rub her drenched folds by the sensitive nub. Her body jolts as she touches there. She’s moaning, and you can only watch.

“Goddamn it, Seeun. Thought you need me,” you utter.

Seeun giggles through her moan. “I–I’m waiting. J–Just need something i–inside me.”

Hastily, you unbutton your shirt, making you bare above her wanting body, before throwing the shirt to god knows where. You’re so ready to fuck her with your cock.

“Ah–will you just–ah–p–put it inside me already?” Seeun mewls, hand busy rubbing her cunt.

With sheer force, you flip Seeun so that she’s above you. You’re going to have her ride you until you’re dry.

“M–My god, you’re gonna have me do all the work?” she asks, her hands resting on your chest, almost clawing your skin.

“I–Is that okay?”

“Mmm, only if you cum inside me,” she answers sultrily, biting her finger.

You smile, lining up your cock against her pussy. She slowly sinks down, and–

“Ah!” the two of you moan in unison.

The feeling of Seeun on your cock is unreal. Her walls graze your cock, making you moan erratically. She ever so slowly sinks down on your cock, making you watch yourself disappear into her. Fuck.

She pushes her cunt down until you’re buried up to the hilt. You then languidly draw your cock out of her, before you thrust straight back into her pussy.

“Fuck!” she cries out.

You catch your tempo, starting to move in a steady rhythm into her needy pussy. Both of you groan in pure pleasure. God, this feels so fucking good.

“D–Do you know STAYC?” Seeun asks, trying to catch the rhythm of the debauchery.

STAYC, Star to a Young Culture. You’ve heard of them. A few hits have passed your ear. SO BAD, STEREOTYPE, Bubble. A pretty decent group, you’d say.

“Y–Yeah, have heard a few songs,” you reply, unsure where this conversation would go. She’s still moving up and down on your cock majestically. Her breasts sway with the movement. She’s beautiful. The sight of your cock disappearing into her pussy only brings pleasure to you.

“Well–” she grabs onto your shoulders, leaning in closer “–I’m one of them.”

What the fuck?

You shoot a confused expression towards her, before slowly turning into a laugh. “Ha–r–really?”

“Didn’t g–get this abs and thighs by a miracle,” she answers. Yeah, she does look good.

“Goddamn,” you exclaim, still shocked by the revelation. She’s an idol, a pretty popular one. “Well, it’s an honor to be engaging in a coitus with you, Miss Yoon.”

She bursts out a loud laugh. Her back arches. Coitus is the funniest word you could think of, and that seems to work on her. “Oh my god, coitus? What the fuck was that?”

You cannot help but to laugh along with her. “Ha–sorry, d–didn’t mean to.”

“I–If I can’t cum because of this–I’m gonna be pissed,” she says, chuckling.

You touch her thighs, trying to feel her approaching orgasm, and it’s there. She’s tensing up. “Looks like my words have no effect, Miss Yoon,” you tease.

“You’re lucky today,” she happily replies, poking your nose softly, as she keeps bouncing on your length. 

You keep thrusting your hips up to meet her thighs in the middle. Don’t want her to do all the work, after all. The wet sounds of your fleshes smacking into each other echoes through the room. The smell of your perfumes and sex are mixing into a concoction. It’s an aphrodisiac that only serves to drive you insane.

“G–God, you smell so good, Seeun,” you involuntarily utter, so lost in her scent of spring.

“T–Told ya, Dior’s Sakura f–for a Japan trip,” she says, voice almost moaning.

Your thrusting goes on, but the scent is just too hard to ignore. It’s making you crazy. You need her. You need her smell. Suddenly, you pull Seeun down towards you. She yelps in shock, before you take in the scent of the crook of her neck. Fuck, she smells like spring—so fresh, so clean. It’s so lively.

“Wh–What a freak,” she scoffs, but you’re sure that she’s enjoying this, judging by her moan.

“Guilty as charged,” you reply with a giggle, still inhaling her lively scent, pressing your lips on her neck from time to time. She tastes as good as she smells.

“G–God, you’re making me cum, baby,” she utters, grinding on your cock in an even more frantic motion. Her breathing becomes more erratic and seconds go by.

You pull back from her neck to roam over to her soft breasts above you. They feel so good in your hands. She cries out in the overstimulation you’re giving her—your hands on her chest, your cock digging into her dripping wet pussy. It’s heaven to her.

“Nghhh~ gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cu–ah!”

Her entire body becomes rigid. A stream of her squirt leaks out of her already-drenched cunt. Her eyes flutter in ecstasy. Her walls contract around your cock. Her back arches, showing her nude body in all glory for you. Her moan hits high notes. God, she has a wonderful voice.

You properly fuck her through her seemingly-neverending peak. You keep pounding into her pussy with reckless abandon as her body spasms above you. Her pleasure-infused moan grows shakier at the overstimulation. Her body then falls on top of you, locking you in a tight embrace.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god. Y–Your cock is so f–fucking good!” she shouts, spurring you on even more. Your pace quickens, plowing into her spent cunt erratically, so determined to fill her with your cum.

The familiar tension coils inside your stomach. You’re ready to fill her up. You’re ready to paint her insides white. You’re ready to breed her. You’re ready to reach the precipice.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum, gonna cum,” you grunt, thrusting into her pussy frantically. Her body limps on top of you, simply without energy to move anymore.

“N–Need you–b–breed me,” she whimpers, eyes barely opening, body getting ragdolled by your motions.

With any remaining energy, you’re so determined to fully breed her with your cum. You pound her pussy with your thrusts, chasing your own orgasm. It’s there. It’s right fucking there.

“Fuck!”

You reach your breaking point. Your entire body shudders at the peak. Your cock shoots cum into her wanton, needy pussy, filling her womb with your nectar. A guttural groan leaves your lips. You’re taking full pleasure in fucking her wanting body. Fuck, it feels so good.

You slowly come down from your orgasm. Your breathing finds its rhythm again, panting for air. Your hands cling to her body tightly, not wanting her to leave you. Both of you are blushing under this Tokyo moon, and you couldn’t be happier with where you are—under her, inside her.

“That–That was f–fucking good, b–baby,” she utters, stuttered. Her hands are caressing your flushing body, feeling every curve and contour.

“Y–You are too, baby,” you say, still trying to catch your breath under the gleaming moonlight. “Fuck.”

Seeun softly chuckles, slowly dragging herself off your cock. Your groan as her walls are grazing your sensitive cock. It almost hurts, but finally, you’re out of her wet cunt.

“I–I’ll go to the b–bathroom,” she whimpers before getting off the bed, limping towards the bathroom to wash your filths out. Your juices can be seen dripping down her meaty thighs, what a lewd sight.

As she enters the bathroom, you lie back down on your bed—tired, spent, waiting for her to come back. You think about what just happened with Yoon Seeun on this bed. You kissed her. You sucked on her breasts. You pounded her pussy with reckless abandon, then shot spurts of cum inside her. God, could tonight get any better?

“Babe!” Seeun shouts from inside the bathroom.

You lazily get up from the bed, thinking of what she could possibly want. You walk towards the door before opening it.

The sight of Yoon Seeun seductively biting her finger greets you. She’s leaning on the sink. Her breasts are resting on her chest gorgeously. Your cum is still dripping down from her used pussy, and you figure it out.

She wants another round.

“S–Seeun,” you say, leaning tiredly against the door. You don’t have the energy to go on anymore. You just want to sleep already.

Seeun giggles before walking towards you. There’s the sway of her hips. There’s the way she bites her finger. There’s the way she puts one leg in front of the other every step. And before you know, your cock is hard again.

You can go for another round.

She pulls her finger out of her mouth, biting her lip sultrily. She then plunges her bitten finger into your mouth, making you suck on it the same way you suck her tits. A chuckle escapes her lips.

“Think you can handle me again, baby?”

With her finger inside your mouth, you can do nothing but nod.

—

[phantomamour]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

coriolanus snow x district/rebel girl!reader - written in third person

in the wicked!au universe (but can be read as a standalone)

cw// allusions to smut, angst

“What would you name our daughter if we had one?” Coriolanus whispered, his love tucked into his side, still bare with a sheen of sweat on her skin matching his. He loved the smell of them like this. Sex with his wife was clinical. It was clean sheets and not looking at one another. But on the rare times that he managed a safe enough sanctuary to make love to his girl, there was nothing clinical about it. He kissed every inch of her body, knowing they had vowed not to kiss each other’s lips again, and he had made her feel cherished in ways only he could. His tongue, his fingers, all of him devoted solely to her. He was driven by power, but his vice was always her. 

“You want a girl? What about an heir?” She looked up at him with curiosity in her eyes and a soft smile, while Coriolanus shook his head.

“I want a little miniature version of you running around.” That made her laugh, her smile widening at the thought of Coriolanus having to chase down a little girl who looked like her. 

“She’d drive you crazy.” 

“Just like her mother. But I’d love every second of it.” They both knew they were being dangerous. It was one thing to meet still after so much time. But it was another to allow themselves the luxury of thinking of a future they’d never see.  

However, the rustling of leaves outside the abandoned cabin woke them from their dream-like bliss. She quickly collected her clothes strewn about the wooden floor while Coriolanus sat up, a heavy weight in his chest. As much as he wanted to call her there just for a moment alone, there had been other reasons he had sent her a note—reasons that felt all too heavy after what they had just done. It was while she was halfway through pulling her pants back up that he whispered. 

“Livia’s pregnant.” 

The world stopped. She froze in her spot. Every breath felt too impossible to take. It was reality setting in. Their bubble was popped all over again. They weren’t two kids in love at university anymore. He was the President of Panem, and she was the thing he needed to destroy, though he knew he’d never have the heart. 

“Oh.” That was all she could muster. Her one love was going to be a father, but it wouldn’t be to her child. Every ounce of color drained from her, and she stumbled while finishing up the button on her pants. Coriolanus was up in an instant, a hand on her arm to stabilize her before she shook it off. 

“That’s why you sent me the note… t-to what? To feel better about that?” He could hear the hurt in her voice and see it in the furrow of her brow as she added, “To rub it in my face that we chose differently?” He immediately pleaded with her, grabbing her hands with a desperate tone. 

“Of course not. I’d never… Dove, I wish I had a better way to tell you. I wanted you to hear it from me, though. Not from whatever whispers you overhear.” Tears brimmed her eyes as she took a deeper breath, and after a moment, she stepped back from him. He could feel the shift between them, the pain and betrayal forming a wall he wouldn’t be able to break back down as she stepped closer to the door, smoothing out her shirt. 

“I…” she started, but the wind carried her voice away before she could finish her sentence. Her following words hurt her just as much as they hurt him. “I would name her Ophelia. Our daughter... She would be Ophelia.” With that, she was gone again, called back to a world he couldn’t ever belong to. Coriolanus stood there, processing every syllable before testing it on his tongue with a whispered, “Ophelia.” 

Eight months later, the love of his life would die, along with any desolate hope for their dreamt-up future. But a month after that, Ophelia Snow would be born. She would look strikingly like her father, very little of her true mother’s genes having taken root, and Coriolanus would know in his heart who her mother really was. He’d see her in his daughter’s laugh and the light of her eyes. His daughter may never be hers, but it was a part of her he wouldn’t have to reminisce about at her grave again. 

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Brother||Platonic!Max verstappen x Fem!reader

Summary— Max has to say goodbye to the little sister he took under his wing

The beginning of this fic is based on this video

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP81gqepM/

Tagging— @ironmaiden1313

Warning character death sad angsty read at your own risk

Max sat on the chair next to y/n's bed looking down at the girl. His friendship with her was important as she was like a little sister to him. Even then he saw himself in the younger girl — another version of him, hardworking and dedicated to the sport.

Max always thought Y/n would make it to Formula One if it wasn’t for the accident. She would have been a possible contender for the second Red Bull seat, which Max would do anything to make happen. Just like he’d do anything to wake her up.

He thought back to when they had that interview when y/n joked saying that “Max wasn’t allowed to retire until they were teammates,” something that he was fine with.

"Hi, I'm Max Verstappen, and I'm a Miami taxi driver," Max joked. Y/n smiled at the camera and introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Y/n l/n, and I'm an F1 academy driver."

The two drivers were seated in the rear of the car, with Max holding a can of Red Bull, and Y/n clutching her water bottle. They both were wearing a Red Bull team polo shirt and a hat to match.

Max turned to Y/n and teased, "That sounded better than my intro," which led to a chuckle from both of them. "Stroopwafels or Poffertjes?" Y/n asked, sparking a friendly debate. "I would go with Stroopwafels, but that's only because I think I had too many Poffertjes when I was growing up," Max replied with a grin. The interviewer then asked about their most memorable races.

"For me, it's Barcelona because my first win was there," Y/n said, smiling and nodding her head. "Winning my first Formula 1 race, as well " Max responded with enthusiasm. "That was your first win in Barcelona, right?" the interviewer clarified. "Yep, Barcelona is good to us," Max confirmed, looking over at Y/n. "Yeah, Barcelona is good to us," Y/n chimed in.

The memory of the thrilling moment lingers vividly in her mind. She vividly recalls the exhilarating instant she surpassed Lia Block just as they crossed the finish line, securing first place. Her veins pulsed with adrenaline as she gingerly rose from the car, feeling the weight of her legs and the trembling sensation. With a triumphant smile, she emerged from the car and dashed toward the barrier where her team awaited, leaping into the air amidst the cheering crowd. Y/n's heart pounded wildly in her ears, reminiscent of the thundering sound of galloping horses in full stride.

The interview moved on to discussing their racing career and their experiences. Y/n shared how she started in karting and worked her way up through the motorsport ladder. Max chimed in, recalling his karting origins as well as the passion and dedication throughout his journey. The interviewer asked, "What's the best part about being a driver?"

Max answered, "It's the adrenaline rush of racing and the feeling of success when you win a race." "I agree," Y/n added. "The thrill of racing and the satisfaction of improving." The interview continued, and the conversation shifted to their off-track lives.

"What's your favorite pastime outside of racing?" the interviewer asked. "I like to relax and spend time with friends and family," Y/n replied. Max chuckled and added, "I'm a bit of a video game enthusiast."

"I've learned that playing video games requires as much focus and skill as racing," Y/n teased. "So, Max, any special someone in your life?" the interviewer jokes, prompting smiles from both drivers.

Max chuckled and jokingly replied, "Yeah, my two cats." Y/n joined in, chiming in with, "I have a goldfish, does that count?" Causing everyone around them to laugh at her statement. The interview took a lighthearted turn as they began discussing their favorite tracks and memories.

"Apart from Barcelona, what's your favorite track?" the interviewer asked. "Spa," Y/n responded without hesitation. "The Belgian crowds are amazing, and it's a historic track."

Max nodded, adding, "Spa's a good one. For me, it's hard to beat my home track, Zandvoort."

“Oooh I love Zandvoort” y/n responded with a gleam in her eyes. Max grinned, looking at Y/n's enthusiasm. "I knew you had good taste in tracks," he teased. "Zandvoort has a unique atmosphere, and the fans are passionate." The interview moved on to questions about their relationship, and the conversation took a more serious turn. "It's no secret that you two have a close relationship," the interviewer said. "How would you describe your bond?" Max looked at Y/n, waiting for her to respond. Y/n smiled and spoke with confidence, "We're like siblings. We know each other inside and out, and we can rely on each other no matter what." Max added to her answer, saying, "We support each other both on and off the track. It's a rare connection, and I'm grateful for it." The interviewer smiled and nodded “And lastly do the two of you see yourselves as teammates in the future?” They asked.

Max looked at Y/n, and they both smiled before Max responded with a hint of determination. "That's the plan. Y/n and I have been working together for years, pushing each other and learning from each other. Together, we could make history." Y/n nodded in agreement.

“I also told Max that he’s not allowed to retire until we become teammates” Y/n jokes. Max chuckled and jokingly retorted, "I guess I'll have to stick around for a bit longer, then." Y/n smiled, adding, "You better keep that promise. We have big dreams to fulfill." The interviewer wrapped up the interview, expressing gratitude to both Y/n and Max for the insightful conversation. As they walked out of the studio, Max turned to Y/n. "You know, you have a way with words." Y/n shrugged, "What can I say? We're a great team." "We are," Max agreed, putting his arm around Y/n's shoulder. "But I have to admit, you saying that I can't retire until we become teammates was pretty funny."

“Oh I was serious” Max chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Are you saying you'll try to block my retirement?” Y/n shrugged with a mischievous smile, "If that's what it takes to become teammates, then you bet I will."

Max shook his head in amused disbelief. "You're something else, you know that?"

Y/n just smiled, enjoying the lighthearted banter between them. “Trust me Max I know”

Wiping away the tears from his eyes Max's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the hospital room door opening. A nurse entered, checking on Y/n's vitals and making sure everything was alright.

Taking a moment to observe the girl, Max couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Despite the steady beeping of the heart monitor, Y/n lay eerily still in her bed, her condition critical.

The nurse, sensing Max's concern, walked over to him. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder rubbing her thumb against his shoulder.

“You should go home and get some rest” the nurse suggested in a soft but firm tone. Max scoffed at her statement he wasn’t exactly in the mood for unsolicited advice from anyone at the moment.

"How is she doing?" Max inquired, his voice filled with worry, he didn’t care about anything else that wasn’t his friend.

The nurse glanced at Y/n's chart before responding, "Her condition remains critical, but no change so far."

Max nodded, staring at Y/n's still form, praying for some sign of improvement.

“I meant what I said before Mr.Verstappen you should go home and rest. I don’t think your friend would want you to sit here and beat yourself up over something you can’t control.” The nurse says with a tight-lipped smile and a soft tone.

Max turned his attention back to his friend. He reached out to hold Y/n's hand, feeling the coolness of her skin against his own.

"Come on, Y/n. You've got to pull through," Max whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

Max closed his eyes, recalling the memory of the accident vividly. He could still hear the sound of the collision and the sight of Y/n's car spinning out of control. It was a scene that he had replayed countless times in his mind.

He remembered the rush of fear and adrenaline when he first saw the accident and the way his heart stopped when he realized it was Y/n in the mangled car.

Max clenched his fists, the emotions from that day flooding back to him. The helplessness he had felt as he watched the paramedics rush to the scene, the desperate hope that she would be okay. And the sickening feeling in his stomach when he was informed of the extent of her injuries.

Y/n’s skin was covered in dark purple bruises and cuts that were covered with gauze, curious Max reached over and grabbed the folder that contained the information about Y/n’s injuries. She had eternal bruises and a fractured rib followed by two broken ones; her femur, the radius, and the ulna in her right arm were also broken. The more Max read on her injuries the more he felt sick to his stomach.

Y/n also had a small hairline fracture in her skull instinctively Max touched the side of his head from when he had his big accident back in 2021 during the Silverstone Grand Prix realizing how lucky he was. Continuing reading the charts y/n was also punctured by a piece of carbon fiber slicing through her Kidney, Liver, and aorta artery causing major blood loss the more Max read about y/n the sicker he felt.

The accident had happened during a pre-season Barcelona test. It was supposed to be just a routine session, a chance to try out some new car parts and strategize for the upcoming season.

But things went awry when Y/n lost control of her car on the rain-dampened track. Her car skidded out of control, slamming into the safety barrier with a sickening crunch.

The impact had been severe, and Max's heart stopped as he watched the chaotic scene unfolding before him. Max watched on the monitors as the medics worked on pulling her bloodied and unconscious form from the wreckage.

In that instant, Max's world had shifted. The laughter and banter they had shared just moments ago in the interview room now felt like a cruel echo of the present. As he sat by her bedside, holding her motionless hand, all Max could think about was how unfair life could be.

Somehow by the grace of god, Max was convinced that he should go home, shower, and rest. Sighing Max walked into his apartment tossing his keys onto the table by the door he was also greeted by his two cats Jimmy and Sassy who he was grateful to see.

“Hi guys,” Max says squatting down to pet the cats who were happy to see their dad. “Are you hungry?” Max asked walking into the kitchen to feed the cats. Once the cats were fed and happy Max went to his bedroom turning on the light he walked over to his dresser picking out clean clothes to put on after his shower. Emptying his pockets Max plugged in his phone to charge while he was showing.

In the bathroom, Max gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He appeared worn out, with a complexion flushed and swollen from tears. His eyes were bloodshot and stung from sleep deprivation, and the dark circles beneath them were a deep shade of purple. Once Max took in his appearance he turned in the shower to the desired temperature of water and stripped out of his clothes.

The hot water felt good on his sore muscles, something Max was grateful for in that moment. He stood there underneath the water until it turned cold. That's when Max got out of the shower and got dressed. It wasn’t long after his shower Max got into bed for the night sleep welcoming him as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Max was woken up by the sound of his phone ringing groaning out in exhaustion. He sat up in bed and looked at his phone to see who was calling him. Max felt his heart race at the sight of y/n’s calling him. Max immediately. Answered her phone call.

“Mrs. L/n is everything alright?” Max asked, standing up to pace around his bedroom.

Max was met with silence from the other end of the phone “Oh Max I’m so sorry” Mrs. L/n lets out shakily and Max’s heart breaks even more than it already was.

“No no she didn’t— she’s still here she has to be,” Max says in denial refusing to accept the harsh reality that his friend was gone.

"Max, I'm sorry. She’s gone," Mrs. L/n says, letting out a broken sob, and with a single sentence Max's whole world came crashing down around him with a choking sob and an anguishing scream.

———-

The warmth she felt was a kind of warmth that radiated from the sun and she also felt safe, which was kinda ironic since the last thing she could remember was her car spinning out of control just before crashing into the barrier before her whole world had gone pitch black and cold.

Opening her eyes Y/n noticed that she was lying in soft green grass looking around she noticed a group of people standing around a freshly dug grave. Confused, Y/n stood up brushing off the black dress pants she was wearing. Black pants that she didn’t remember putting on hell Y/n didn’t even remember how she got here in the cemetery.

The closer y/n got to the group of people she realized that these were her closest friends and family. Looking around she noticed Max who stood tall and composed, dressed in a black suit as he looked out over the funeral service. It was a beautiful ceremony, yet the grief weighed heavily in the palpable air.

As Y/n approached the group, no one seemed to notice her presence. They were all deeply immersed in the funeral service, their faces etched with grief and sadness. The air was heavy with a mix of sorrow and acceptance, a stark reminder of the reality they were facing.

Her parents were seated in the front row, silently weeping. Max stood nearby, his gaze fixed on the open grave where her coffin would soon be lowered.

Feeling out of place and utterly confused, Y/n tried to approach Max, hoping to get his attention. But as she neared him, her body passed directly through him, making her gasp in surprise.

Max didn't react, not even seeming to notice the feeling of her presence passing through him. It was a surreal and unsettling experience for Y/n, who couldn't make sense of what was happening.

a realization dawned on Y/n as she took in her surroundings, the people gathered at the funeral, and the grave that was awaiting her. She remembered the accident and the blackness that followed, the absence of any feeling or sensation.

"Am I...am I dead?" she asked aloud, her voice barely above a whisper.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, crashing down on her with the weight of finality. She wasn't just injured or in a coma; she had lost her life in the tragic accident.

Tears welled up in Y/n's eyes, her chest feeling tight as the reality of her situation sank in. She had been so focused on her dreams and ambitions, so determined to become a Formula 1 driver, and now it was all over.

She looked at her parents, grief-stricken and tearful, and then at Max, a man who had become like a brother to her through their shared passion and friendship.

The weight of sadness and regret settled deeply in her heart as she watched Max standing there, stoically carrying on without her. As the ceremony continued, Y/n realized that she was nothing more than a specter, an observer of the event that marked her death. She was a ghost, unseen and unheard, a silent witness.

The realization was both heartbreaking and surreal. She had dreams, aspirations, and a future that had all been snatched away in a single instant.

At that moment, Y/n just wanted to reach out and touch Max, to tell him how much he meant to her and how much she would miss him.

But she knew it was futile. She was trapped in this ghostly state, unable to interact with the living world in any meaningful way.

All Y/n could do was watch from the sidelines as her friends and family said their final farewells, her heart aching with a mixture of sorrow and longing.

Soon the funeral came to an end and y/n watched as Max placed a single flower on top of the coffin.

“Vaarwel Zus,” Max says with a whisper.

As Max stepped back from the grave, the finality of the situation weighed heavily on him. Y/n saw the grief etched on his face, mingled with a sense of loss and acceptance.

"Vaarwel," Max whispered again, his voice filled with nostalgia and sadness.

Y/n watched as her mom approached Max, her voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. Tears streamed down her face, and she struggled to find the right words.

"Max," she said, her voice quivering, "Thank you for being there for my daughter. She always spoke so fondly of you. You were like family to her."

Max, his expression filled with a hint of sadness, placed a comforting hand on her mom's arm.

"Y/n was also family to me," he replied softly. "She was one of the strongest and most determined people I've ever known. I'm honored to have been her friend."

Y/n smiled faintly as she listened to their conversation. Despite the circumstances, it warmed her heart to know that Max cared deeply for her and that their bond extended beyond their shared passion for racing.

“Oh Max you should have been there" She got the call for pre-season testing in Barcelona. She was so excited I've never seen her so happy Y/n was excited to become your teammate” Mrs.L/n says

Max's eyes softened upon hearing those words. He remembered how Y/n had joked about them becoming teammates, and a pang of sadness hit him. That dream would never become a reality now.

"I remember," Max responded, his voice filled with nostalgia and regret. "She deserved that chance. Y/n had more talent and determination than anyone I knew."

Mrs.L/n nodded, tears still streaming down her face. "She looked up to you, you know."

Max looked down, guilt and sorrow filling his heart. "I should have been there to guide her, to support her. But it's too late now."

Mrs.L/n reached out to grasp Max's arm gently. "Don't blame yourself, Max. You were an excellent friend to her. Y/n was an amazing girl, but fate had other plans."

Max's eyes met Mrs.L/n's, and he saw a mixture of pain and acceptance. "I'll always feel like I could have done more. She was so young, with so much potential and ambition."

Mrs.L/n's voice trembled as she spoke again. "She had so many dreams. She wanted to make her mark in Formula 1."

"And she would have," Max said, his voice filled with conviction. "Y/n was born to race."

They stood there in silence, the weight of the loss hanging heavily. Max's mind was flooded with memories of Y/n - the laughter, the banter, the shared passion for racing. The emptiness she left behind felt immense.

The connection they had was unique, and now with Y/n gone, Max felt the absence more than ever. He could only hope that wherever she was, Y/n was surrounded by peace and happiness.

Mrs.L/n looked up at Max, gratitude filling her eyes. "You were like a brother to her, Max. Thank you for being there for her. Thank you for being a part of her life."

Max gently squeezed her arm, his voice cracking with emotion. "I was lucky to have her as a friend. Y/n was one of the best people I've ever known. She'll always be in my heart."

They stood there, two people connected by a profound loss, each silently honoring the memory of Y/n. The bond they shared, forged through their love for her, would endure with time.

Mrs.L/n hugged Max tightly, her body trembling with grief. "Please take care of yourself," she murmured. Max nodded, holding her close and providing comfort and unwavering support.

"I will," he assured her. "I'll make sure to honor Y/n's memory and continue living passionately. That's what she would have wanted."

They shared a moment of silent understanding before Mrs.L/n pulled back, her eyes still filled with tears. Max stepped back, watching as she walked towards the car with her husband and children, leaving him alone at the graveyard.

Y/n stood there with tears streaming down her face as she listened to her mom and friend talk about her. All she could do was smile sadly at the two of them as they had their conversation. She watched as her mom and Max had one last hug before parting ways.

“Goodbye, Mom I love you,” Y/n says, reaching out fingertips lightly brushing against her mom's arm causing her to falter in her steps looking over to where her daughter stood, seeing nothing she shook her head and kept walking the car.

Y/n turned to look at Max who stood firm in his position “Thank you Max for everything” she said reaching up to try to wipe away one of his tears.

Max was overwhelmed by a sense of comfort that washed over him as If it was warm and comforting. Looking up and around, Max couldn't shake the feeling that Y/n's presence was with him. He was certain that she was right there with him.

“Thank you for everything Y/n” Max says, smiling a small smile.

“tot ziens broer” Y/n whispers before going into the light.

[majeoeje]

How to wear a Kimono

Tanjiro x fem reader

You’re something that i’ll never grow tired of

Tanjiro frowned upon your reaction. It seems that you weren’t happy at all with his gift... Ah! He should’ve known better! Of course it wasn’t to your liking.. he felt disappointed in himself thinking he had already failed you as a husband.

“I’m so sorry.. i was at the shop when i saw this. Maybe we could browse together sometimes to see another one that fits your preferences?..” He nervously laughed, how he tried to hide his disappointment broke your heart.

“No no! It’s not that i swear!!” You retort. Flailing your hands around in panic, trying to convince your husband that what he thought was not the case at all. “It’s more more than lovely”.

You smiled down the light kimono in your hands. The beautiful fabric felt softer than any of the yukata you have ever worn in your life, you could stare forever at the intricate floral designs on the kimono. It was enchanting how detailed it was while still being subtle. It perfectly matched the beautiful and rich color of the Obi.

Perhaps after a week of being married to you you, Tanjiro had already noticed how you didn’t own any Kimono in your possession. Your side of the closet only contained various versions of your old demon slayer uniforms and some tattered Yukata here and there.

It was a thoughtful gift. You would treasure it forever if you could. But you knew Tanjiro would be a lot happier if he sees you wore and appreciate it rather than to have it sit in the dark to collect dust. But that’s exactly the problem..

“Tanjiro.. i don’t know how to wear a kimono”

Least you could say, the evident expression of disappointment on his face was replaced to one of shock and guilt.

It’s not like he pitied you or anything of sorts. It’s more like he felt guilty that he didn’t put your background into consideration. You had once told him that you were dirt poor. You and your family could barely afford food and shelter. Let alone afford new clothes..

Even as a demon slayer Tanjiro knows that you mainly only worn your demon slayer uniform or the patient attire everytime you’re recovering at the butterfly mansion. Maybe it was for the fact he saw you so less with your homely and normal Yukatas that he couldn’t put 2 and 2 together and come to a realization himself that the first time he actually saw you in a kimono was at your wedding.

So Tanjiro feels that it was rightfully stupid of him to not see that coming.

“I see… but you don’t have to worry about that my love!” Though Tanjiro recovered fast, that bright smile finding it’s way again to the corner of his lips

“‘Cause i’ll be here to teach you”

It was embarrassing to have your husband of all people teach you how to put on your clothes but you weren’t going to decline his help seeing the glimmer in his eyes.

Step 1: Undergarments

Well you can get that down by yourself, though the part you were worried about was to stood in front of Tanjiro in only your undergarments.

But when it finally came to it, you felt an odd sense of security. You didn’t mind his presence at all… maybe it was because of the way Tanjiro prioritized your boundaries above all else in this moment, she doesn’t waste time to oogle at you or say anything. In fact she just smiled at you and moved on. Nudity isn’t something to be embarrassed about in marriage, Tanjiro understood that it was normal and it made you feel safe.

If anything, he was just worried that you might get cold. So he hurried to put on the petty coat of the Kimono.

Step 2: First layer

The next step was the first layer of the Kimono.

“This is the first layer, lift your hands please” he asked, the Nagajuban was ready in his hands

You did as he asked, allowing him to wrap the Nagajuban in place, he did so left over right.

“Can you hold this for me? Your collar needs adjusting”

You nodded, taking the end of the front of the Nagajuban while he adjusted the back of your collar to not touch the back of your neck. You wondered what took him so long for him to just stood there.

“Tanjiro-!”

He got distracted. He just couldn’t help himself but place a kiss in the back of your neck

“Sorry sorry!” He apologized for his surprise attack, despite not being sorry at all. Before he started to wrap the Date-jime on the underwire of your torso.

“Remember, the Date-jime should be on your underwire, not your torso”

“Right..” you say mindlessly, your mind still replaying the kiss he had gave you just a moment ago, as he secured the Date-jime in place, looking at him intently.

But before you could admire him any longer, he was already done.

Step 3: Kimono

Finally you had come to the part where you could put on your Kimono, it would be a lie if you said you weren’t looking forward to it. Though as he slipped the fabric for you, from the sleeves to your torso, you realized that it was long. The fabric of the Kimono reached all the way down to the floor.

“It’s a bit long isn’t it?” You nervously asked, afraid you might stomp on it if you were to wear it outside like this.

“Well don’t worry about that” he lifted the fabric on your bodice to the length of your heel “you’re supposed to wrap it around like this to lift it dear”

He calmly explained, watching your surprised look seeing the kimono secured in place with a Koshi-himo

“Woah! It’s shorter now” you walked to the mirror, as if in awe. Tanjiro finds your child-lie wonder endearing. Though truthfully it wasn’t anything impressive

“It’s nothing special really” he tried to humble himself. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. He grew up in a big family. Teaching his siblings to dress themselves weren’t much of his duty. But he was willing to do so in order to help his mother. But the fact that he loves his siblings didn’t make it as much as a chore as anyone else think it is, after all he loved them with all his heart. It didn’t need to be his duty. He’d do it no question asked.

Well… he still loves them. He did and he always will.

And now you’re his family too.

Step 3: obi

After securing your Kimono in place Tanjiro carefully wrapped the second Date-jime before securing it in place once again.

“My love, i’ve lost count of the many belts that you had wrapped on my torso by now” you sighed, knowing there’s still more in store for you.

Tanjiro only laughed charmingly before placing a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“We’re almost done, don’t worry”

By now, he had moved to tie your obi for you. The long sash of obi had already been sewn and altered so that you didn’t have to fold it before using it.

You watched Tanjiro’s focused face on your mirror as he stood behind you once again to carefully tie your Obi. You quite didn’t understand how he was able to do that because after defeating Muzan, he wasn’t able to move his regenerated left arm from forearm down, it was quite amazing what he was doing right now. He had been talking for a few minutes about how to tie it, but you weren’t exactly focusing. This time you were the one who was distracted. Your mind wandered to how you had wanted for him to kiss you again. But you knew it was an endless pursuit cause after one and the other, you’d only grown to want more.

Tanjiro moved to tie the Obi-Jime so that your obi wouldn’t fall apart. But it wasn’t before he was done with the finishing part (Obi-age, for a touch of color, some would say) was when he realized you weren’t paying attention. You weren’t paying attention to the kimono at least..

“Did you get that?” Tanjiro tested and with his words you were pulled to reality

“Wha- huh?” You said, finally snapping out of it

“Oh.. i’m sorry Tanjiro. I don’t think i quite understood” you say, only a little guilty.

Maybe other people would be annoyed to be face with this predicament. But Tanjiro was Tanjiro.

“That’s fine” he said, smoothing out a few parts of your Kimono absentmindedly

“In fact you don’t even have to learn”

“Huh? What ever do you mean Tanjiro??”

You were confused at his words, was he angry at you? You wouldn’t say his tone or expression is exactly angry..

“What i mean is that you don’t need to learn how to wear a Kimono because i can just dress you everytime you need” he had said, his beaming smile were brighter than the sun itself.

But his statement was jarring. You couldn’t possibly let him do that!..

“No- no! You can’t possibly do that? I wouldn’t want to burden you..”

After the battle agaisnt Muzan, your body had became injured greatly, least to say some parts doesn’t work as well as it used to. You already need his help as it is and now you’re burdening him with dressing you? That’s unacceptable. And suddenly, it wasn’t about the Kimono anymore, and Tanjiro wasn’t that dense to not notice

“Do you honestly think that i don’t enjoy every second i spent catering to your needs?” He’s so sickeningly sweet. Sometimes it feels like you’re going to get a toothache being married to him.

“Darling, your stubborness is both your best and worst quality” you said, you didn’t know what you did to deserve him.

You held his hands in yours, one was wrinkled and skeletal and the other still had callouses from his days as a demon slayer

“If i could spend the rest of my days to make you happy then i’d be the happiest man alive”

What a waste of precious time. You thought

As same as Tanjiro, you had also unlocked your demon slayer mark. You and Tanjiro didn’t have that much time left, only having a few years till you were 25 years old.

But with so little time you became to realize that you couldn’t help but wish you’d spend it all with him, you know you’d be yearning for more. But how can you not be greedy when this is the person you’re spending the rest of your life with?

“Do you honestly think that i’m not my happiest when i’m with you?” your words paralled his from earlier. Tanjiro couldn’t contain himself but to embrace you, you could basically feel his smile radiating off of him.

Though he was careful to not mess up your Kimono. Not that he wouldn’t fix it for you no matter how messed up it became anyways.

In that moment, he secretely hoped that you would never learn how to wear your Kimono yourself, so that he could just do it for you instead. Not that you objected upon his proposal from earlier.

+bonus:

“Darling, i know how to put on socks already”

He carefully held your feet, slipping the Tabi socks so that it fits perfectly. He had handpicked a geta that perfectly matched your Kimono in advance, wanting to doll you up.

“I know that” you got up instinctively with him. Following his actions were a habit that you hadn’t even realized you developed.

He lead you to the mirror, beaming in excitement to show you the final results.

“Tada!” He beamed. Presenting yourself to the mirror. Though he immediately got distracted upon taking your full image. He could just sigh in awe every moment he looks at you.

“My wife is so beautiful..” he sighed again. Lifting your hands to place multiple kisses on it not wanting to mess up your perfectly done hair and make up.

You and your husband spent an hour dressing yourself up with zero intention of going out. Though Tanjiro still finds it wasteful to ruin your shared efforts just yet.

But maybe that thought quickly dissipated away with the pleading pout on your lips, wanting a kiss.

His face grew red at your expression, he finds you so incredibly adorable, he couldn’t even bring himself to resist you. There were no words needed to bring himself to close the distance

(A/N:I watched multiple tutorials on how to wear a kimono for this fanfic💀💀 it was mainly based on this video tho. Tho i didn’t get into detail and i erased some parts of the Kimono that was used in this video that may not had existed in the Taisho era. If you’re looking for a real tutorial tho, watch here if you’re rlly curious. Also the lady’s voice there was rlly calming lmao i think i almost fell asleep while taking notes and writing this)

[didishawn]

Hello!! Can I request pau cubarsi x reader fluff/domestic life, something very cutsie, where they’re possibly roaming the streets of Barcelona, going into stores and trying on random clothes, etc! or even a part 2 to forever? It was so good I loved it!

Personal Manikin (Pau Cubarsí x reader)

Warnings: none that I can think of, reader dreams about being a fashion student, also the same headcanon from Forever about reader and Pau having been together for ages, small make out season and suggestive at the end

Masterlist

As a child, you remember your favorite game was dressing yourselves and others up.

Princess, pirate, thief, astronaut you call it. You loved picking out the right accessories, the right clothing, matching patterns, sequins, lace, all of it.

You started small, making customised clothing for your dolls, then went on big to make your own tops, dresses, pants, anything you can think of really.

You were the type of girl to sell bracelets during your free hours back in school, to customise your uniform to make it cuter.

Still, that doesn't mean you don't enjoy shopping for clothes and only make your own.

You won't lie, when you first met Pau, the first thought that crossed your mind was about making him your own personal manikin to dress him up however you pleased, as if he was your very own Ken doll.

Not your fault really, your twelve-year old self was not that interested in boys back then, but your brother's best friend caught your eye by simply being way too tall.

How it all developed (Lamine's help) a story for another time, the important point is, you two are together, and Pau really is your human sized Ken doll.

You see, the thing with Pau is, that he loves you too much to ever say no to you.

He said yes whenever you asked him to sneak out of La Masia and into your house back when he was too young to leave on his own.

He said yes whenever you puted about taking your 'children' (Hector and Lamine) out for a ride with you.

He says yes, as you hand him a pile of clothing almost taller than you, for him to try on.

"I think I like the blue one on you better, what do you think?" you ask him as you watch him with the baby blue sweater on, spinning around for you to see it from all angles.

"I like whatever you like"

"Pau! I am not gonna force you to buy something you don't like"

"I do like it, just like being your personal manikin even more, so you choose what you see me the most handsome with"

"That's not fair! You are always handsome!"

Almost an hour later and with ample smiles, you walk hand in hand out of the shop with way too many shopping bags.

It's a sunny day in Barcelona, the two of you taking in the warmth as you enjoy the perks of it being the middle of the week with almost empty streets.

You stop dead in your tracks and he turns back confused, your eye having caught sight of a DIY store, you don't even have to turn and pout to go inside before he guides the way, opening the door for you as you excitedly step in.

The shop is one of those perfect for those who want to make accessories and clothes on your own, and you can't believe you have never heard of it before with such good prices.

"This would look good on you" he says, handing to you a piece of teal satin.

"Of course it would" you confidently say, testing the strength of the fabric "It's almost the color of your eyes, and we both now we look good together"

He smiles, and your heart beats faster. You loved when he smiles. He bends down to kiss your forehead as he pinches your cheek.

"Although, I would rather our kids have your eyes"

"Bullshit, I can already imagine mini versions of yourself running around"

Your eye catches some bracelets beads, and you instantly make your way over to them. Searching for the exact color as he once again, looks confused.

You ealk over to him, two strings on beads in hand as you stand in front of him. You raise one of the strings, putting it at his eye level as you watch closely.

"...What are you doing?"

"I saw this trend in TikTok, about making bracelets with our eye colours,that way I can have you always on me"

You are deep in thought as you compare the two tones, finally settling down on the second one.

Pau too, walks over the beads, instantly picking up one string and comparing it to your eyes. "This one it is"

"No way you guessed it that quickly, try again!" you pout.

"Meu amor, I think I would know what your eye color is, even better than yourself. Don't forget, you are the love of my life"

"T'estimo molt" you stand on your tiptoes, yet only manage to place a kiss on his jaw as you smile widely.

Suddenly, you feel the presence of a third, turning to look at a worker of the store, who watches you two closely, before finally sighing.

"Me voy a morir sola" (I am going to die alone)

Half an hour later, you are already on your way back home after consoling the poor saleswoman about her love life, and even getting her number to set her up with one of your friends.

Your house is thankfully empty as you make your way inside all the way to your room, happily settling the bags on the floor as your boyfriend settles on the bed. You pick up the beads, alongside some strings and other necessities you have laying around in your room, and settle next to him.

"Are you making a necklace or bracelet?" he asks, already working on his own bracelets as he starts doing calculations of how much of each color he will need.

"I was thinking of doing a pair of earrings honestly" your hands sketching a design before starting the job.

"Your talent will never stop amazing me, you know?"

"Says one of the best centerbacks of the world"

There is low music playing in the background as the two of you concentrate on your arts and craft, Pau himself skilfully working as after years of being with you, he knows what he is doing.

It isn't that long until the two of you are done, you prettily wearing your new earrings as you help him close the bracelet.

"....You need to stop lifting, I thought it would look bigger on you"

"...I am sorry for being strong, thought that's what you liked about me"

"I liked your height, not these muscles"

"Wow, never thought I would hear you complain about my muscles"

"They are alright, I guess..."

"You guess?"

You hum, as his arms go around your waist, picking you up and placing you in his lap.

"I don't hear you complaining now"

He kisses your jaw as your hands play with his curls.

"I can complain if you want"

He shakes his head, lips catching yours in a meaningful kiss, switching places as your back hits your bed.

His lips takes yours as you caress his cheeks, his hands on your waist as he keeps you in place.

He leans back for a moment. "How long until they are back?"

"We have more than enough time"

He kisses you once more, staring the perct ending for your day out.

[fireflyinks]

ooc ep with mandy hamzah and martin then hamzah introduces u as his gf 👀👀 twitter insta tiktok etc is going crazyyyy abt it too

girlfriend reveal (hamzah edition)

hamzah x reader

a/n : not sure if i love or hate this but here it is!! sorry i haven’t been as active I SWEAR im trying to get to your requests!! this was such a good idea and lmk if you want me to write a version but with y/n being a content creator as well. much love!

contains : a little fluff, slight cursing (literally just bs), cuteness, hard launching

I rocked back and fourth on my heels, standing directly beside the camera’s view. Anticipation and nervousness swirled in my stomach.

It probably wasn’t as big of a deal as I was making it, I knew that, but my nerves were still going buck-wild.

After three months of dating, Hamzah was introducing me as his girlfriend on the podcast today. We both wanted to wait until it was the right time, and we had finally decided that it was now or never.

YouTube was a ginormous part of Hamzah’s life, so the thought of his fans not approving of me was a big fear of mine. He’d assured me that they would love me, but I knew that he couldn’t be sure of that fact.

After about three minutes of rambling on about something pointless, Hamzah finally cleared him throat.

“We also have a special guest this episode. Please welcome, my beautiful girlfriend, y/n.”

I walked into frame, sitting beside Hamzah on the already crowded couch. Mandy and Martin clapped at my entrance, and I giggled nervously. This was a weird feeling for me, since I normally wasn’t this shy.

Hamzah handed me a mic he had bought specially for this episode, since normally they only had three people on at a time and didn’t own a fourth mic. He also put an arm around me, which helped calm my nerves a small bit. Hamzah’s touch could almost always make me feel better. I guess it was a good thing then that I was basically sitting on his lap due to limited space on the yellow couch.

“Hello,” I spoke into the microphone, smiling sheepishly.

“Introduce yourself.” Hamzah encouraged. He was taken aback by my shy demeanor as well.

“I’m y/n, Hamzah’s girlfriend…” I racked my brain for other facts about myself, but nothing came to mind.

Mandy chimed in, “We finally managed to get Hamzah a girlfriend guys, this is a rare sighting.”

I laughed along with Mandy and Martin, and Hamzah just rolled his eyes.

“You did not manage anything, I got her myself.”

“Bullshit, I’m the one who introduced you two.”

It was true, Mandy and I had worked together for about a year now and she was constantly telling me about how I needed to meet Hamzah, how well we would get along. Finally, she planned a night for us all to hang out, and we just kind of clicked.

“Yeah, Mandy is actually a really good match maker.” I nodded.

Mandy shrugged, “You are both socially awkward so I thought you’d be perfect for one another. And I was right, of course.”

Some time went on, and my nerves slowly started to dissolve. After about an hour, we finished filming, and Hamzah drove me home.

“So…” he began, looking out at the road as he drove, “how’d you feel about that?”

I shrugged, “I was really nervous at first but I think it turned out okay.”

Hamzah placed his hand on my thigh, “I promise, you have nothing to worry about. Everyone will love you.”

—

Hamzah posted the video the next day, and I couldn’t get myself to read the comments or open any social media until I got home from work, five hours later.

I sighed, sitting down on my couch and fumbling with my phone, opening YouTube and pressing on the new episode, entitled “Girlfriend Reveal (Hamzah Edition)”, which happened to the first video on my feed. The intro music began to play.

There were already 500 comments.

awww they’re literally perfect for eachother ❤️

where is the Hamzah to my Y/n

the way hamzah looks at her…

I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I read the kind comments.

I commented a quick heart on the video before moving on to TikTok. My feed was already mostly slushy noobz clips, so I wasn’t surprised when I was the first thing I saw after opening the app.

It was the clip of Hamzah introducing me as I tried to fit next to them on the small couch, with “Margeret” by Lana Del Rey playing in the background softly. The comments were just as positive as the ones on YouTube.

OMG?

wait she’s like genuinely so pretty

they’re so socially awkward together, it’s perfect

Last but not least was Twitter, which scared me the most. I knew that if anyone would have a problem with me, they would most likely express it on Twitter.

I opened the app, and went to search, to be met with “Hamzah’s New Girlfriend” trending. This was either a very good thing or an extremely bad thing.

I clicked on it, and began reading some of the tweets under the hashtag.

hamzah’s new girlfriend is literally so gorgeous, im actually obsessed with the two of them together

hamzah’s new girlfriend genuinely seems so sweet, my heartttt 🥹🥹🥹

“thank you mandy”, we say in unison, hamzah and his new gf are literally PERFECT

Suddenly, there was a quick knock at the door. I got up to answer, wondering who it was. Hamzah was filming a video with Martin and Mandy had told me earlier that she was getting her nails done after our shift.

I opened the door, being met with a bouquet full of colorful assorted flowers. My heart felt as if it could burst. I picked them up, grabbing the paper tag on them to read it.

I knew they would love you - Hamzah

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

[noorpersona]

Confessions: Oikawa

(This is connected to another drabble I made in my series 'Unreq Love' so here is context if you'd like the full experience: Oikawa & Bonus)

--

The gym is quiet.

Not the kind of quiet that comes from peace, but the kind that settles like dust in the corners—heavy, still, waiting. The lights are off, but the late afternoon sun filters through the high windows, painting the floor in long strokes of gold. The volleyball net hangs limply between its poles, no longer taut with purpose. There are scuff marks everywhere, like memories burned into the wood—ghosts of spikes, dives, the relentless rhythm of ambition. The echoes of laughter, shouting, the rhythmic squeak of sneakers still seem to hum beneath the silence, like the gym itself refuses to forget.

You spot him immediately.

Oikawa stands near the back wall, his figure backlit by sunlight, facing the net with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. His shoulders are drawn tight, his posture still and unreadable. He doesn’t move when you step in, but he knows it’s you. No one walks into a gym like you do—especially not after hours. Especially not him.

You take your time crossing the floor. Your sneakers squeak a little, but he doesn’t flinch. The air smells like dust and floor polish, and something sharper underneath—like endings. Like goodbye.

“I figured I’d find you here,” you say, coming to a stop beside him.

He huffs, a soft, humorless sound. “You always do.”

“Well,” you shrug, “someone’s gotta make sure you’re not brooding yourself into an existential crisis.”

Finally, he glances at you. There’s a tiredness in his eyes, something far quieter than the version of him everyone else sees. You know it well. You’ve seen it before, behind locker room doors, in the quiet of bus rides home, in the way his voice would sometimes crack when no one was supposed to hear. He looks like someone who's been chasing a shadow for too long and just realized it was always out of reach.

“I thought maybe if I stayed long enough, it’d feel different,” he murmurs, gaze shifting back to the net. “But it still hurts.”

“Of course it hurts,” you reply, arms crossing over your chest. “You gave everything to this place. You bled for it. You obsessed over every drill, every stat sheet, every match. Losing was never going to be painless.”

He chuckles, and it’s low and bitter. “We didn’t even make it to nationals. What was the point of all of it?”

You frown, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Tooru, you seriously need to get your head out of your ass.”

That earns you a sidelong glance, the barest glimmer of amusement.

You soften. “You weren’t just chasing wins. You built something here. A team that trusted you. A legacy. People are going to remember you—not because of a scoreboard, but because you made them better. You made them believe. You pushed them to be more.”

He doesn’t respond right away, but his jaw tics. He always does that when he’s trying not to feel something. The weight of three years rests on his shoulders like armor that no longer serves him.

“And what about you?” he asks suddenly, turning to face you more fully. “You stuck by me through everything. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

You scoff, leaning back on your heels. “Don’t get all sentimental on me now, Tooru.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. You think I followed you around like a lost puppy for three years because I enjoyed your tantrums and diva moments?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Maybe a little?”

“God, you’re insufferable.” You shake your head, but your voice loses its edge. “I stayed because you were worth it. Because you’re more than volleyball. You always have been. Even when you were too busy being dramatic to see it.”

The silence that falls between you is thick with years of shared glances, missed chances, and words left unspoken. The light shifts across the floor, turning everything gold like the last flicker of a day that tried its best.

You don’t mean to say it. Not like this. Not when he’s already unraveling.

You glance at him again, then down at your hands. Your voice comes out low, more to yourself than to him. “God, I can’t avoid this, can I?”

But it’s been sitting in your chest for too long, and something about the way the light hits his face—the rawness there, the quiet ache—makes it impossible to keep in.

“I love you.”

His head snaps toward you, eyes wide. “...What?”

You inhale slowly, like that’ll steady the thundering in your chest. “I said I love you. I’ve been in love with you since the moment we met. Since you made that dumb joke during orientation and somehow managed to trip over your own feet.”

Your voice wavers slightly, but you push through. “I thought it was just a crush. Something stupid. But it never went away. Through every win, every loss, every time you walked into a room and lit it up like you didn’t even know—through all of it, I kept falling. I knew every version of you—the charming captain, the insecure overthinker, the friend who stayed behind after practice to help pick up stray balls—and I still fell.”

You swallow hard, heart aching in your chest. “And I wasn’t going to tell you. I didn’t think I had the right to. I thought I’d be a distraction, or worse—just another person you’d feel responsible for. But standing here with you, watching you look at that net like it still owes you something... I couldn’t walk away without telling you. Because it’s not just about volleyball. Not for me. Not when it comes to you.”

You take a step back, the burn of embarrassment creeping up your neck, your voice quieter now. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed to get it out of my system.”

You turn, ready to bolt before you make a bigger fool of yourself—but before your foot even hits the line, his hand wraps around your wrist.

You freeze.

His grip isn’t desperate, but it’s firm—anchoring. When you look back, he’s already there—closer than you thought, close enough that you can see the flicker of emotion dancing in his eyes. His breath is uneven. So is yours.

His gaze lingers on your face, moving from your eyes to your mouth, then back again, as if trying to piece together something he should’ve realized long ago. You see it hit him all at once—the memories, the missed moments, the way you’ve always been right there. His shoulders loosen like something inside him’s finally cracking open.

His hand moves slowly to your face, tentative but gentle, and his thumb brushes against your cheek like it’s something fragile he’s afraid to break. His fingers tremble just slightly, and the warmth of his palm grounds you in place.

“How did I never see you?” he breathes, and it’s not a question meant for you. It’s a confession all on its own, shaped by regret and wonder.

Then he kisses you.

Soft at first, hesitant—like he’s asking permission.

Then again—deeper, fuller, with the kind of reverence that comes from finally seeing someone who’s been standing in the light all along. His hand curves behind your neck, the other still holding your wrist like he's afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go.

And for once, Oikawa doesn’t say a single word.

He just pulls you closer, holds you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, and lets the silence speak for itself.

In that quiet, there is no loss. No disappointment. No game that slipped through trembling fingers.

There’s just you.

And it’s enough.

[pyxxiestyxx]

Comforting Honesty

"Do you know what this is, petal?" I frowned at both the affini preforming the Wellness Check, and the soft little thing it held in one massive hand. Well, small for her, anyway. The plushie was sized for someone of my height, a miniaturized version of a Khetari, complete with soft eyes and the expressive smug little face.

"Its a stuffed plush, similar to ones I've seen florets dragging all over the starsdamned place. And if you're trying to be subtle, you're really not hitting that mark. I don't appreciate the- OW!" I yelped and leaped backwards as the affini withdrew a vine, the needle-tipped flower on the end still dripping bright blue with something. Some...some xenodrug, obviously. I rubbed my neck where the injection had occurred, sulking. "That wasn't necessary."

"Oh, my apologies. As you said that you 'didn't appreciate subtlety', I thought it may be better if both of us were upfront and honest about things." The affini's eyes were sparkling in swirls of purple and gold, and I was suddenly reminded of just...just how tall she was compared to me when she rose to her full height. I took a few nervous steps backwards, and she countered by taking a single step to match. One. Step.

She continued in a lower, throaty purr, "Let me be clear then, petal. This is a plushie, yes. It is being given to you for several reasons. Firstly, your brain has been conditioned through your culture to bond with those who give you gifts. You don't even have to accept the gift to have this process happen; the mere offering is enough. But you will accept it, flower." I swallowed nervously at her words, the directness of them.

"Secondly, it is because this will help you get into a headspace much more befitting of a seed like you. Because yes, you will be carrying this around, at all times. Just. Like. A. Floret." With each word, her eyes pulsed brighter, the words branding themselves upon my brain.

"Thirdly, this is a special plushie. In this is a device that will output my biorhythms. Ah, and by the look on your face, you know exactly what those are. What those represent." I took another few steps back, but tripped on a box of something behind me that I had forgotten to clean up. In a flash of movement the affini was upon me, vines curling around and cradling me, pinning my arms to my chest and winding under my chin to tilt my head towards her.

"We prefer not to reveal all this at once, of course. It can be...intimidating to a sophont at first. But don't you worry, my darling floret-to-be. If you ever feel scared over the next...mmm" She tilted her head in thought, then smiled viciously. "About three days, if I were to guess. Three days until you break for me, until you beg for me to hold you in my vines again, to keep you safe forever."

I felt something soft and warm and...and ever so slightly comforting in a way I didn't understand press into my chest as she wrapped my arms around it with a smile. "And in those three days...if you ever get worried, or stressed...all you have to do is cuddle with your new plushie~ Isn't that wonderful?"

[temis-de-leon]

MC with a selfish best friend

MC mourning the loss of a long toxic friendship with the help of the brothers.

Characters: demon brothers and fem!MC (written as platonic, but could be read as romantic)

Masterlist , Part 2 (kind of)

CW: continued discussion about weight gain and weight loss, eating as a coping mechanism, obssesive and manipulative behaviour, emotional blackmail, a glimpse of animal neglect, a tiny nod at suicide, MC trying to hide her feelings, anxiety, TLC from the brothers

A/N: kind of self insert because I'm writing my own experience, so this isn't the most relatable MC. Still, I hope you enjoy it! Remember I'm not a native english speaker, so there might be some grammar mistakes.

.

.

Back then, not that long ago, MC was completely sure she wouldn’t go any further in life. She was stuck in college, in her family and her friend group. There was a dynamic she could work through and, although it could be better, she wasn’t one to complain.

It was a flooded basement with filthy water, but at least it lacked rats.

She just needed some time to start working on herself. Go to therapy, lose some weight maybe? Start cooking again and stop wasting money on fast food. She did use to enjoy spending time in the kitchen and experimenting, after all, but the only things she cooked during her last months in the human realm were mugcakes and pasta. Not necessarily nutritious, but easy to make.

Thank god she had her best friend.

Her companion in the basement, the one with the flashlight.

MC wished she let her hold her hand too.

.

.

“She’s overthinking again. Not good”

“Look who’s talking”

“Hey! It was just a joke!”

“Should we talk to her?”

“Maybe when she comes back, else we’ll give her a heart attack”

“Yeah, Lucifer would kill us”

“Oh, so now we’re doing this for Lucifer?”

“Don’t be selfish, Mammon”

“Who ya calling selfish?”

“Ugh”

MC listened carefully, softly smiling at Beel and Levi’s voices drowning Mammon’s in an almost silent screaming match.

She couldn’t see them from her position, her upper body completely sprawled over the armrest and her line of sight lost in the ashes of the chimney. The fire cracked, threatening to die in front of her, but it was difficult to get up when her body weighted so much. She was tired and hungry and nauseous and even the idea of sitting straight sent bile to her mouth.

Then someone walked into the common room, shushing harshly and getting the other brothers to cease their fighting. Whoever it was, probably Lucifer or Satan, must have thought she was asleep.

So MC closed her eyes, hiding her face in the crook of her arm and basking in the comfortable silence. She could hear them still; the shuffle of cards, a plastic wrapper, buttons and joysticks.

The newcomer got close to her, covering her body with a blanket and sitting at her feet before opening a book. There was enough space in the couch for at least two more people, but MC still curled up, trying to make more room for him. She stopped in her tracks when he grabbed her ankle in a gentle grip, a gesture that brought some warmth where her pants didn’t reach.

Would someone add another log for the fire? Everyone seemed too comfortable to move.

At least the blanket was thick. Pure hellish wool or something, because every animal in the Devildom was just a bigger scarier version of those in the human realm. It was also, however, softer than any type of textile she could’ve ever find back home, so the creature could spit fire for all she cared.

Suddenly, the brother caressing her ankle tightened his grip for a short moment, demanding her attention. When MC opened her eyes, she found Satan smiling at her with no one else in the room. She must’ve fallen asleep after all.

“Dinner is ready”

He let her stretch, unconsciously comparing her to a cat when she arched her back and cracked every possible bone in her body. Satan wondered if that ever hurt, but MC seemed to enjoy it very much whenever she had the occasion to do so, like when they came home from classes after a long day or when they bought groceries for the whole week and Beel. 

“Did you not sleep well last night?”

“Not for a while, no”

“Is that so? Something troubling you, MC? Anything I can help with?”

“I don’t know”

She sounded sincere, but Satan didn’t buy it. Only a month had passed since MC came back to the Devildom, looking a bit more tired than when she left at the end of the first year of the program, and she’d acted ecstatic when she learnt she would be living with them again.

He was sure the problem relied in her human phone, something she didn’t have last year and Diavolo had kindly allowed her to keep.

All of his brothers, even the eldest, were greatly impressed when MC showed them how she unlocked the device with her fingerprints, as well as the human versions of Devilgram, Deviltube and Akuzon. That was a fun day, but time passed and soon the phone became an inconvenience. Someone at the other side of the line was taking their beloved human’s time, leaving her exhausted in the aftermath of their conversations and, if Satan vision’s was correct, teary eyed.

That would not continue. Not on his watch.

“We’ll look into it in another moment. Right now, let’s go with the others. Aren’t you hungry?”

“God, yes!”

They both chuckled and he forced his thoughts away. They could wait for the time being.

.

.

Beel didn’t judge her, but she didn’t feel as happy as she thought she would whenever they sneaked in the kitchen at the late hours of the night.

Opening the fridge door with slow movements, trying not to make noise while taking plates or bowls and eating in silence between giggles and short whispers brought a sort of familiarity. And Beel never judged MC. Why would he? He ate even more than her. He’d keep going long after she was finished, full enough to want to puke everything, and MC would feel a wicked satisfaction knowing that no matter how much she ate, there was someone that would eat much more.

Those nights she’d go to bed feeling sick and greasy, too regretful and high on sugar to be tired. Then, by morning, she’d force herself to eat breakfast and go on with her day just to get whatever sense of normality she could reach.

Although, lately, things had been slightly different.

They still got together at night and filled their mouths to the brim, but Beel was adamant about MC going to the gym with him when the morning came, before everyone was out of bed. Of course she’d said no since the beginning, but he kept insisting, saying she didn’t have to exercise if she didn’t want to.

MC still said no.

Then Asmodeus put his input.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, hon’, but you aren’t getting your 8 hours of sleep and you’re adding calories during the night. That’s horrible for your skin!”

And had it been her mother saying that, MC would’ve lashed out, rejecting opinions she’d been hearing for years over and over and over again, but this was Asmo. The Avatar of Lust. The most beautiful demon in the entire Devildom. MC guessed she wasn’t being fair to her mother, who also loved her and hated seeing her so sick and tired all the time, when it was Asmo she couldn’t ignore.

“I get anxious when I go to bed” she finally confessed.

MC could feel Satan’s eyes on her, but he stayed silent.

“Spend the night with me” intervened Belphie with an honest smile, a muted worry in his eyes “I could make you so tired you wouldn’t want to get out of bed”

“No way!”

Everyone looked at Mammon and several sighs filled the room. The demon, although deeply blushing, kept talking with an overbearing smugness.

“If someone’s gonna sleep with her, it’s gonna be me! Don’t worry MC, the Great Mammon will chase the nightmares away!”

“I think sleeping with you would give her nightmares, actually”

Mammon turned to Levi, ready to swing at his brother, but MC talked before the fight started.

“It’s not nightmares, Mams, I just feel anxious. You know, like, I can’t stop thinking”

“About what?”

She looked at Satan, who was staring at her with a calculating glance, surely remembering what she told him days before when she fell asleep on the couch.

“I don’t know… Everything, I guess”

All of them stayed silent, ignoring what they were previously doing. It didn’t feel uncomfortable, but MC wished someone said anything.

Of course, Mammon spoke first.

“Well, that’s a lot”

“No shit, you moron”

Levi finally got smacked and the rest of them went back to do their own thing, letting MC’s lack of sleep behind. A part of her wanted to keep the conversation going, but she felt too embarrassed when she tried to open her mouth again, especially having Satan looking at her like a hawk.

You don't want me to stare at you? I want to. What's the problem?

She achieved to ignore him in the end.

That night she stayed in her room, pacing, chewing her sweatshirt’s aglet while humming that Phineas and Ferb’s song and turning her headphone’s volume to the maximum with a different music threatening to deteriorate her hearing.

Anything to distract herself and not go to the kitchen.

Finally, hours after bidding the brothers goodnight, MC threw herself on the bed. Her feet were aching, its footprints surely engraved in the carpet, and she forgot to take her headphones off, making the position uncomfortable, but the important thing was that she didn’t have the need to eat anymore.

However, Beel still knocked her door at dawn.

MC stared at him when she opened, bleary-eyed and mouth as dry as cotton, the hem of her pyjama pants so high they looked like pantaloons. He, on the other hand, was completely awake and seemed ready to conquer the day.

“Before you say anything, I’m not going to the gym today”

There was a heavy silence for a couple of seconds.

“Then why did you wake me up? We have classes tomorrow”

Beel stared at her with a worried expression.

“We don’t. It’s Saturday”

“Ah”

She could’ve sleep longer? MC wished she was mad at him, but his puppy stare was hypnotizing.

“I want to go for a walk today. And I want you to come with me”

He lowered his gaze for a moment, biting his cheek while waiting for an answer. MC turned around and looked at the window, still unable to decipher what time it was by looking at the sky.

There were a few things MC missed from the human realm. The sun was one of them.

“We could go to the park, feed some birds and then have breakfast somewhere else. I swear I won’t eat the seeds this time"

She chuckled, rolling her eyes when he smiled back. Then she looked down at the rolled pants and her bare legs.

“Is it cold?”

“I don’t think so, but you can borrow my jacket”

MC sighed and rubbed her eyes, waiting until the white spots disappeared before walking towards her closet. She wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again, she knew that.

“Let me change and then we’re going. But you owe me one, Beel!”

His smile was too wide for him to answer.

.

.

Breakfast with Beel ended up lasting three whole hours, which was understandable, and they spent the whole time talking about nothing and almost everything, both of them clearly avoiding the subject of her sleeping habits.

MC really did want to talk about it, but then again, what did she want to talk about exactly? She had trouble falling asleep, yes, and she’d gone back to eating her feelings, but she couldn’t point out the reason. Her nights were filled with paranoia, making her revaluate every piece of interaction she’d had since she got back home from the Devildom months ago. Did she spoke correctly? Did people understand that she was just studying abroad and not begging for attention?

She hoped her best friend dropped those accusations. MC would never stoop so low. Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes.

“Don’t you want anything else?”

MC looked at Beel and the stack of plates surrounding him at the table, mugs and cardboard boxes stained with chocolate, whipped cream and frosting. Her side of the booth was much cleaner, but when she lowered her gaze the only thing she could think of were mugcakes and pasta and the taste of bile in her mouth at the sight of her bloated stomach.

“No, I’m fine”

She knew he loved her. She knew she could talk to him and he would listen and maybe even hold her hand, but the small restaurant was already filled with demons and witches and whatnot and MC knew she’d only be able to sob the moment she’d open her mouth, so she stayed quiet.

Beel nodded, going back to his food with a strange calmness. Maybe he was close to being full?

But no, it wasn’t that.

MC gasped when she felt his foot weakly tapping hers before going under it to support its weight. A small comfort, like the prelude of a long awaited hug.

He didn’t know how much she appreciated it.

.

.

Winter had already reached the Devildom the day MC opened her closet and stared at her clothes. No matter what she chose, everything was at least a size bigger.

She guessed finally going to the gym with Beel did have some payoff.

“Is something wrong, MC?”

Asmo turned the lights of her bathroom off, walking where she was silently standing while staring at the discarded clothes around her.

“You don’t feel like dressing up today? We can stay home and do some self-care if you want”

MC turned around to look at him with gratitude. She knew how much he wanted to go shopping, especially with her. Finals ended just the day before and everyone had been so occupied they’d barely seen each other outside classes and meal times.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that. It’s just that… everything feels wrong. I think I lost weight”

He chuckled at her revelation, hugging her waist and kissing her cheek between giggles.

“You’re taking care of yourself, silly! Whatever are you doing with Beel in the gym, I wonder…?”

She laughed and lightly hit his arm, showing no ill intent, and Asmo smiled in response, not bothering to hide his lewd expression.

“Don’t be nasty!”

 “Oh, I’m just joking! But you know what this means, right? We get to renew your whole closet!”

MC turned around again, perfectly knowing that she could either spent her monthly allowance on clothes or start thinking on how she could rock the oversize streetwear style.

She sighed, trying to hide her smile with no success before speaking again. Asmo’s eyes were stuck on her.

“Very well, then” she wasn’t finish talking yet when the demon clapped his hands and jumped in excitement “I’ll trust your criteria”

He gasped and hit her arm in return.

“As you should!”

.

.

“So… how do I look?”

Mammon whistled, clapping and signalling her to turn around in response. Once she did a little twirl, he clapped even harder, not stopping even when she blushed in embarrassment and ran towards him to stop his overly excited appreciation.

“You look mighty fine, MC!”

“Stop!”

“Has anyone ever told you how hot you look?”

“Stop!!”

They were both laughing, her chasing him all around his room with burning cheeks and a gigantic smile.

The shopping bags waited patiently at the door, half of them already empty with a pile of clothes folded on the couch. Mammon had insisted on a private catwalk the moment he learnt she’d gone shopping with Asmo, his offense completely gone barely half an hour after starting the show in his room.

Every time she changed in his opened closet he’d cover his eyes with his hands and every time she came out with a new outfit he’d scream praises like a madman.

MC wasn’t used to this level of compliments and he sure was making it hard to stay calm.

“C’mon, go change again!”

“You’re acting insane right now, Mams”

She was smiling like crazy and her cheeks were hurting, but she didn’t want it to stop. When was the last time someone had been this hyped over her looking pretty? She couldn’t remember.

Then her phone rang.

MC stopped smiling when she saw the name on the screen.

She thought about answering and spoiling a nice evening because of a sour one-sided conversation. Was it worth it? Sure her friend could wait a couple more hours, right? She’d survived without MC the whole year she spent at the Devildom uncommunicated, after all.

“Is it The Unnameable?”

MC stared at her phone for one more second before turning around to look at Mammon, who was kneeling on the couch with his arms crossed over the backrest, eyes peeking with curiosity and another feeling she couldn’t identify.

“The Unname… Robdemor??”

He nodded, blushing and looking away.

“Yeah. You know, like, her name brings bad luck or some shit”

“She doesn’t bring bad luck”

MC didn’t sound as convincing as she wanted to and Mammon’s incredulity proved her point.

“Don’t be stupid, MC”

The pot calling the kettle back, she wanted to say, but no words came to her mouth. She was being stupid, wasn’t she? Everyone at the house already knew what to expect whenever her phone ringed or vibrated and they always did their best to distract her so she could leave the damn thing behind. She suspected Belphie even turned it off at one point.

Staring at her feet, trying to voice her feelings, MC talked again.  

“She just… needs me sometimes”

“Sometimes??”

Mammon got up, going around the couch to reach her. He looked flabbergasted, eyes opened wide and a myriad of words stuck in his throat.

The phone stopped ringing, but soon a flood of messages interrupted the silence to call for her attention instead. When she looked back at Mammon, he had frustration in his eyes.

She decided then she couldn’t bear to see him like this, so serious and reasonable. Was it too late to go back to chasing each other, laughing while trying new clothes? She’d been capable of keeping her feelings to herself since she could remember, but Mammon wouldn’t let her do that and she feared the moment the rest of the brothers decided enough was enough too.

God, she needed to talk, but not right now. Talking would make it real and she still wasn’t strong enough for the whole situation to be real.

In a matter of seconds her eyes were watering and she felt as if her throat had thorns stuck in her flesh, but before she could do anything about it there were arms wrapping around her. MC wasted no time hugging Mammon back, trying her hardest not to spoil any tears. The tags in the back of her new shirt poked her skin, making her squirm and get even closer to Mammon’s body.

He was rocking her side to side while petting her hair and there was no doubt he’d deny the whole ordeal happening afterwards, but she let herself enjoy the feeling anyways. It was nice being taken care of.

.

.

It was the first time MC had gone to bed so early since before college. Her eyelids felt heavy and the bed was soft and comfortable, at least three blankets shielding her from the cold outside that froze her window and sunk her room in darkness.

But she couldn’t stop staring at her phone.

She’d turned the vibration off days ago, but that didn’t stop the notifications from showing up on the lock screen and, although she could also take care of that, MC still wanted to be able to read the messages without needing to open the app.

Her best friend talked about everything, good or bad. Mostly bad. How she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her, even when she was the one cheating on him, how much she was eating because there was no one to stop her, how tired she was to even clean her cat’s litter box. She’d say if MC were there everything would be so much better, she wouldn’t feel so lonely.

She didn’t ask about MC once.

“You’re thinking so hard it’s giving me a headache”

MC’s body violently jerked at Belphie’s voice.

He’d entered the room in silence, closing the door and approaching her bed without making any noise. Seeing her freaking out made him snicker, but he was too tired to fully laugh and simply laid down next to her.

“Jesus, Belphie”

“No, just me”

“Ha ha ha”

Her sarcasm didn’t affect him in the slightest. MC watched as he closed his eyes and offered his hand to held hers in a firm grasp, probably not wanting to let her go during the night.

“Turn that damn thing off” he growled against the pillow when a new message showed up.

“I’ve seen you sleep on the ground before; you can’t complain about some light”

“Watch me”

She thought he was just joking, challenging her like a small child would, but Belphie managed to surprise her when he rolled over her body, grabbed the phone and threw it to the other side of the room.

“Belphie!”

He shushed, sealing her lips under his hand before hugging her body with all four limbs, trapping her under the covers.

MC could’ve complained and hit him until he let her go to retrieve the phone, but that would’ve meant pissing him off and staring at the screen for another hour or until her friend decided it was time to show some interest in MC’s life.

…

Whoa.

…

So that’s what it was.

That simple, uh?

MC waited for something to happen at her epiphany. Nausea, panic, heavy breathing. Instead, she felt an overpowering sense of relief. Her heartbeat evened and the frown she didn’t know she had in her forehead disappeared.

No headache, no memories. For once, no nothing.

“You’re not dying, aren’t you?”

Belphie’s head rose, looking at her with suspicion, but her eyes were stuck in the ceiling.

“Why? Would you feel guilty?

He stood over her then, pouting and frowning, and MC had to stop herself from laughing.

“Okay, you know what? I already said I was sorry. You can’t hold that against me for the rest of your life”

“I will as long as I can get something out of it”

“You’re evil”

“Said the demon”

His head fell face first on the pillow with a thud and if she didn’t know him any better, she’d be worried about him suffocating to death during the night.

“Why did you ask that, tho?” MC finally talked.

“Your heart stopped for a second” he shrugged and mumbled, his hold on her hand stronger than before.

“Oh… Well… Don’t worry. I’m okay”

“Are you sure?”

No, not really, but she didn’t want to talk about it in that moment. Maybe another time, when her speech wasn’t slurred due to sleep and she could organize her thoughts with a clear mind.

She hummed as an answer before speaking one last time.

“Goodnight, Belphie”

“Sweet dreams, MC”

He’d make sure of that.

.

.

MC had been quiet for a while. Not out of sadness nor ire, but something much more private. Something that left her pensive and still, staring into nothing with a serious expression. She laughed and talked with the brothers and, from what he heard, she enjoyed going to the gym with Beel, but Lucifer knew there was another factor escaping his reach.

Whatever it was, it changed MC for the better, so he was happy.

Even when the strangest ideas crossed her mind.

“I think I’m going to cut my hair”

He looked at her, clicking his tongue in disapproval when he saw her sitting sideways in one of the chairs with her feet resting in the other. She had a book resting in her lap. How long had she been looking at him and not reading?

“May I ask why?”

“I need a change”

Lucifer stared, taking his glasses off before crossing his arms over the document he was previously reading. MC got up and walked, zigzagging her way towards his desk as if she was drunk, but she looked as hopeful as ever.

“Did something happen?”

She nodded, ignoring his question right after.

“One of these days I’m just gonna… grab a glass of wine, go to the bathroom and bam! Haircut”

He raised an eyebrow, trying to hide a smile at her words. He hadn’t seen her so playful in months and the sudden change felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Do you even like wine, MC?”

“That’s not the point”

“And you shouldn’t use scissors while drunk, especially near your head” he ignored her “If it’s money you’re worried about, I can pay for a good hairdresser”

She laughed and shook her head, partially sitting on the desk. They stayed silent for a few seconds and Lucifer let himself observe her, how she bit her bottom lip deep in thought and how her fingers intertwined with a certain force. She was probably hurting herself at that point.

“I just really need a change”

He could tell there was more she wanted to say, but that seemed to be enough for the moment. The silence afterwards felt full with comfort.

“That’s fine”

MC nodded and sent him a small smile before going back to the chair, this time sitting with her knees stuck to her chest, but before he could put his glasses on to continue his work, she spoke again.

“Here’s what we’re going to do: I cut my hair in the bathroom and then you take me to the hairdresser to style it. Sounds good?”

“Are you going to drink while using the scissors?”

“I’m not a child, Lucifer”

“Might as well”

“Hey!”

“Just joking” he laughed, but MC could tell there was some seriousness behind his smile.

“I drink wine, I cut my hair and you check I don’t stab myself on accident, how about that?”

Lucifer pondered about it, envisioning himself behind her and watching over her reflection in the mirror, a bottle of wine in the countertop and another of Demonus waiting for them in the music room. She’d be the one to clean the aftermath, that bit was obvious, but something told him she wouldn’t really care about that.

The more he thought about it, the less strength he had to fight it. She could’ve asked Asmodeus or Mammon, but she asked him. MC wanted him to be with her during her progress, as stupid as the method was.

“Sounds like a plan to me, MC”

Her smile at his words was worth millions.

.

.

It wasn’t until several hours had passed that MC wondered if Levi invited her to his room with a hidden motive in mind.

The anime came out less than a day ago and she’d never even seen an ad about it, but he’d thoroughly claimed it was made for her.

And she could see why he would say that, honestly.

Sure, no ancient dying star granted her any mystical powers that allowed her to soar the skies or wear an alarmingly short sparkly dress; and she didn’t have an animal sidekick or a romantic interest that only appeared at night for some reason. She didn’t have an arch nemesis either, but she did have the closest thing.

MC was the selfish one, apparently, because how could she? How could MC have the audacity to ignore her best friend’s messages in her desperate times of need? Her boyfriend broke up with her because he discovered the cheating and no one was there to remind her of feeding the cat, neither to monitor her diet nor to fix the consequences of her bad decisions. She was in the lowest point of her life and MC dared to lose weight and spend time with her new friends? Outrageous!

MC unlocked her phone and stared in silence at the new text and voice messages, as well as some missed calls.

You disappoint me, MC.

After all I did for you?

I’ll die and it’ll be your fault.

I’ll die and I’ll make sure you’re the one to discover my body.

You’ll never be able to forget about me then.

You’re disgusting.

MC stared at the screen, not knowing if she should laugh or cry about it. In the end she chuckled and forced down the sting in her throat.

The TV in front of her suddenly turned into a kaleidoscope and she squinted as the heroine jumped from platform to platform, blasting her wand and singing spells. If she understood correctly, the cheery character was fighting her way through the first big boss of the season, her friends close behind her.

She could feel Levi’s eyes on her, no doubt studying her reactions to see if she liked the anime as much as he did.

“Hey, Henry!”

MC turned to look at him and smiled brightly at his rosy cheeks. She expected him to explain some hidden lore or the meaning behind the soundtrack, but he surprised her with his next words.

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t told you yet, but your hair looks so cool!”

“Oh!” she widely opened her eyes in appreciation, showing her teeth in a beaming smile right after “Thanks, Levi!”

“You look… eh… upgraded. Well, no, not upgraded. Erm…” he avoided her gaze for the next few seconds before pausing the anime, letting the room go back to silence. MC kept quiet, trying not to laugh at his awkwardness so he wouldn’t misunderstand the situation.

“You look really pretty, MC. Even better than her”

Levi nodded at the TV and MC stared at the heroine, the pause conveniently showing her winning pose. Big sparkly eyes winking at her and a knowing smile occupying half of her face, as if she was approving Levi’s affirmation.

MC felt the need to cry right then and there, but she held it in.

Her phone lighted up one last time before she grabbed it and turned it off in anger. She had a couple of seconds before the screen permanently went back to black, letting her read the last message.

Who do you think you are? How could you do this to me?

MC seethed. She knew who she was, even if she was still learning. Her hands itched and she forced herself not to throw the phone on the ground with all her strength. She still needed it to talk to other friends and relatives, after all.

After an entire minute filled with tense silence, MC spoke, suddenly meek and shy.

 “Hey Lev…”

“MC?”

He was staring her with caring eyes, unsure of what to do or what to say.

Fortunately, for the first time in a long while, MC knew what she needed to do. For herself and no one else.

“Would you help me change my phone number?”

She could write down the numbers of those she cared about the most and send a message asking them not to share hers without her permission.

Take care of her arch nemesis without destroying the entire world. Accept the help of people who showed joy at her improvement. Buy new clothes, change her style, cut her hair.

God, walking without that heavy weight on her shoulders would be difficult and painful, but she’d rather die before letting her ex best friend destroy her will and power one last time.

She laughed with a choke and Levi gasped her name.

She was crying.

.

.

.

@ourfinalisation

[elllisaaa]

Do you plan on making any bf kim seungmin or yang jeongin bf hard thoughts i loved your other ones and I'm looking forward to these when/if they do come

here are the bf!thoughts for jeongin and here is a link to the seungmin version ! i hope you'll like them even if it took me months, thank you for the love <3

BF!JEONGIN who's dedicated to you in a silent way, but in a way that makes your heart melt when you think about it.

jeongin isn't really good at expressing his emotions and feelings through his words, sometimes he doesn't know how to word them. but that doesn't bother you because he does show you his love through a million other things. for him, actions speak louder than words. his little ritual when he knows he won't be able to see you for a few days, or that you're going through a rough time, is to leave you little notes all over your apartment. sometimes, it's just an "i love you", and some other times, it's praises and words of comfort. anyways, it almost makes you smile and you never fail to send him a little heart through text messages to thank him. it's easier for jeongin to tell you how he feels through words on paper than by telling you. when he needs to communicate something that he cannot get off his chest by talking, he writes you letters. and maybe it isn't a traditional way to reach out to your partner, but it worked for him, and it worked for you too because you got him. and as long as he lets you know how he's feeling and what goes through his head, no matter the way he's doing it, it's enough.

"i wrote you a letter baby, i really needed to tell you this."

jeongin is pretty known for his aversion to physical touch, especially when it isn't from the right person. so it is no surprise to you that he's not always seeking your touch or your comfort, and you don't mind at all. the only time where he becomes really clingy is when he's tired, after a long, stressful day. in these moments, he only seeks out the comfort of your warm embrace. he doesn't necessarily talk about what happened, but he loves to listen to you talking instead, while you run your fingers through his hair - he likes to be babied like this. it doesn't mean that jeongin doesn't let you touch him otherwise. even if he doesn't seek out the physical contact, he lets you take his hands or hug him if you need to and he likes to do it for you. he likes knowing that you need him, that you express your love for him in that expressive way. jeongin also definitely has a passion for holding your hands in every circumstance, and comparing their sizes. he finds it so cute how your smaller hands seem to drown in the hold of his bigger ones.

"give me your hand, baby. i don't want to lose you in this crowd."

despite not knowing how to articulate his thoughts in words most of the time, he's a really good listener. when you need to talk and spill out your feelings, he's always there to hold you close and let you tell him everything you have in your mind. he doesn't always has the right words to to help and he doesn't always know what to do to make you feel better, but it doesn't matter to you. his presence is enough to soothe you and help you feel better. another thing that he likes to do with you is matching your outfits. even if you don't spend the day together, you're almost always matching your outfits. it's like a way of being there in each other's day. so of course, he always asks for pics of your outfits, and he always compliments you on them of course. jeongin basically shares his closet with yours, and the same way around goes as well. everytime he has a day off from work, he brings you out to do some shopping with him. and of course, he doesn't even let you pay for anything.

"you look so good in my clothes, baby."

BF!JEONGIN who wants to spoil you just as much as loves to make you cry underneath him.

to be honest, jeongin just feels lucky to be with someone like and to be able to have you like this. so most of the time, he goes with the flow and the mood of the moment. if you want to get on top of him and ride him, he's all in. and if you want him to press you down on the mattress, he's not complaining either. just being inside of you makes him lose his mind. and simply the thought of it can drive him crazy too, especially in situations it shouldn't. that would be a regular occurrence for him - to fuck in the most unusual contexts and places just because he can, just because he knows you won't say no. what gets him going the most is the thought of someone catching the two of you in the middle of something unholy. just thinking about someone - especially one of his friends - hearing or interrupting you always makes him cum the hardest.

"don't hold back your sounds baby, i want them to hear how good i'm making you feel"

whenever jeongin wants to be in control, he doesn't let it sleep away, never. his hands are firm and rough on you, his words are borderline degrading and his thrusts are mean, almost punishing. he loves to torture you, especially with his fingers because he knows how obsessed you are with his hands. he'll either edge you or overstimulate, depending on his mood. but either way, he wants to hear you beg for it, to hear you beg for him. jeongin asks you to tell him what you want, and then he makes you beg, over and over again until your voice is broken and you're on the verge of tears. 

"yes, that's it baby, beg for it, tell me how much you need me."

but when jeongin lets you take control, he lets you take control entirely too. he trusts you with his life, so he literally lets you do anything you want to him. but you both know that the thing he likes the most is when you become rougher too. he loves it when you pull on his hair, when you wrap your hand around his throat or when you slap him across his face. he goes crossed-eyed whenever you hurt him. leave marks on his body too, leave them where they can be seen and so that they mirror the ones he left on your body too. seeing the scratches your nails left behind on his back the morning after, and feeling them sting everytime he moves at dance practice the next morning. 

"don't hold back, hurt me more..."

[koolades-world]

hello ^^

was wondering if youd be able to write something about the demon brothers (and maybe diavolo too) with mc whos a little dumb? as in they forget a lot of stuff (what day it is, where they put something only a few seconds ago, etc) and dont know a lot of things even if its obvious. theyre also a bit gullible and fall for fake news or scams a lot. basically a bimbo/himbo type of mc.

hi!! yeah sure thing!

actually went to google if there was a gender neutral version of bimbo himbo and apparently there actually is

presenting: thembo! haha I love this term

enjoy :)

Thembo/Himbo/Bimbo Mc

Lucifer

very protective of you

can't help but internally smile whenever you forget your train of thought or asks him what today's date is for the third time

if there's an unreliable news source that keeps finding it's way into your hands he sees personally that they mysteriously goes out of business

gotten surprisingly good at finding things you lost, like he'll just move one thing out of the way and what you're looking for will be there (big mom energy here)

Mammon

he's a himbo himself tbh

you're cut from the same cloth so you can be silly together

100% both of you will ask each other the time, check your D.D.D., and only leave that situation with what percent it's at so you have to check again and still don't have the time

you match each other's energy so well it's meant to be

Levi

he's not quite sure how to feel at first

he gets overwhelmed by the amount of questions you ask, but once you start asking questions about his games, you're instantly close

he doesn't mind repeating himself since you actually care about him

sometimes he forgets everything besides gaming so he gets it

Satan

if Mammon is your birds of a feather flock together, he's your opposite attract moment, even better than Lucifer

he always makes sure to let you know if something you've heard is fake or not and always makes it a lesson even though despite you listening, never seems to stick but that's ok he still loves you

however he loves how you embrace all of the things he loves even if you don't fully get it, like all the more complicated books he reads for fun

it's alright he has enough brains for the both of you lol

Asmo

sometimes he's very himbo so he has solutions to your problems

gives you a cute little invisible ink pen that activates when you stand or sit in spots you're in a lot to write on your arm with since regular ink isn't cute (solomon made it <3)

always asks you if you have everything before you leave the house with a checklist, and when you got home

please make sure to thank him!!

Beel

he also has the same oblivious nature, but he's more dense while you're more airhead

if you put your heads together (and with a little help from belphie) you can usually figure it out

will help you look for your D.D.D. while the both of you use the flashlight on your D.D.D.

ultimate duo fr

Belphie

he thinks you're so silly but tries to keep any playfully mean comments to a minimum

sometimes he can't help but poke fun at you but afterwards he always tells you he's sorry and tells you you're pretty

straight up puts tracking devices on important items that you handle everyday so that if you lose something, you can easily find it again, such as your toothbrush and textbooks

Diavolo

another sorta himbo, since he seems like he has no idea what he's doing but actually is very aware

if you lose something and really can't find it, no worries! he can just buy you a new one or have the Little D's search for it since they'll do anything to help you out

very understanding and sweet about it since he kinda gets it

the both of you can embrace this lifestyle together