#why is life so cruel haha
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tsuutarr · 3 days ago
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Howd Mason get those scars? :(
After getting close enough to him to be intimate I would 100% kiss his scars
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Most of his scars are from farm work! Mason is pretty put together now, but he was kind of clumsy when he was starting out~
Also, in Mason's story, there's a pretty bad underground Hybrid Slave Trade going on :( He was a well-behaved so he didn't get physically punished like the more rowdy hybrids, but he has a few back scars from the lashings he got.
Thankfully, the police did end up finding the slave ring Mason was in, which is why he's free now with monetary compensation. He used most of the money he got and bought the farm so he could be away from people lol
But yeah, most of his scars are from farm work! He'd find it cute if you kissed them, but he might be a little more jumpy if you touch some of his back scars.
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gardening--tools · 5 days ago
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🐶.
perhaps the reason this sickness is hanging on is in part due to the fact i have to rescue the puppies from being put outside to sleep at night. they don’t have their second coats yet!!! they can’t be outside at night!!! in winter!!!! it’s sub freezing let’s use our fucking brains!!!
#i’m literally about to scream#because why did you get puppies if you didn’t want to put in puppy work#no i know why it’s because pop’s staunch refusal that rules apply to him and his aversion to being told what to do are rearing their ugly#heads here. and his anti-vax ‘i can fight covid with vitamins’ tendencies.#and do not get me started on my mother. ‘i agree they can’t be outside’ my ASS#they’re literally babies they need to be raised like babies and that means an interrupted sleep schedule if they need to pee in the night#oh but if we look at how we were raised maybe this is how you think babies are raised oop-#nobody worry about them btw i’m just going to do it#this issue is at a tail end of several other issues brought up by the holidays so whatever it’s fine#i knew i was going to have to do this it’s fineeee#i mean. this is coming from the folks who laugh about accidentally burning chicks to death. as if it was a teehee haha oopsie#instead of the horrifyingly upsetting example of gross negligence and general disregard of life that it is.#jfc this probably sounds insane to people who don’t know the deep and intricately woven lore of my family. and it is! insane!#being an adult living at home is totally fine and not at all harmful to my mental health :) why are u asking :)#diary posting#ugh anyway. i say all this here because if i called them deeply cruel and disturbed people to their faces they might kick me out. and i#✨can’t afford to do that rn✨
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8lah8lah · 2 years ago
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"both sides of shipcourse are wrong" says person about to not bat a fucking eye when someone on one side gets chased off the fucking internet and doxxed and told they deserve assault for liking ships that are abusive in a way they dont immediately understand/relate to. "shipping discourse is just sooo dumb and immature" says person about to fucking gasp and scream and tell all their mutuals and post "STOP putting ***** on my dash in 202_" vagues like A Gross Drawing Existing In The World is going to singlehandedly groom and traumatize and enable and Normalize everything for everyone on the planet simultaneously for simply being put out there and it being out there is a category 10000 mental safety hazard that they must bravely defend people from. "youre stupid if you care about ship discourse lmao" posts brave tumblr user about to get really upset publically over One person they saw shipping a like, 4-year age gap between two fictional chars that's there if you Squint, an opinion that Clearly has NOTHING to do with very specifically one side of the discourse
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red-moon-at-night · 1 year ago
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I am so normal today 🤠
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codenamethebird · 3 months ago
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God I have so much to say about Melinoe's characterization, and the fasinating implications about her future arc/the overarching plot of hades 2. I want to make a larger think piece with pictures but for the moment I'm just going to focus on this one specific thread.
In the wake of the Prometheus reveal, she has a slew of convos about his motivations for siding with Chronos, and the gods basically all go: this is his vengeance for us punishing him a tad cruelly. And Nemesis is like, yeah the gods 100% deserve it. But Meli's responds that he must have more motivation than just vengeance, it can't just be that. But when Prometheus explicitly goes, 'I'm doing this because the gods are horrible to humanity and I love humans,' she basically goes, no he must be lying. That motivation is both too pure, but also humans kind of suck why would you care about them?
Mel's humanity hot takes deserve it's own essay (Ms I think Humans should have never gotten fire and are better when they are dead), and I just want to focus on the former for now. She can not comprehend that Prometheus is fighting the gods for noble reasons. It just does not make sense to her. Mel's world is so black and white. She doesn't understand the nuance of the situation, and the thought that the gods might be actually in the wrong doesn't even get close to crossing her mind.
It's a fascinating (and horrifying) result of her upbringing. Of the constant state of war and the very convenient big bad that is Chronos, the evil monster who stole her family. If she accepts that his side isn't completely evil, that they might even be right in some (even many) respects, she would have to grapple with her whole life. Everything she believes would be thrown into question, the literal thing she was training her whole life for.
She can't have Prometheus fighting for a noble cause, because he fights for Chronos whose the Bad Guy tm. But he also can't be fighting for something as simple as vengeance, because that would also mean she would need to really think about what he's angry about. If the punishment was truly so unnecessary cruel.
When talking to Odysseus about Prometheus, when Ody's saying how much he respected him for stealing the fire despite knowing the consequences, Mel says that it was the price to be paid for breaking Olympus's decree. To her, Olympus's rules are sacred and ultimately good. Unquestionably. Prometheus broke the rules with intent, so to her, why would he be so angry at the consequences? Especially if he knew because of his power they were going to happen.
So he must have another reason, some secret machiavellian plan that drives him. Except as I already said, it brings her right back to him doing it for humanity, which she also can't accept. Because that would be admiting that the gods did something wrong to humans. She twists herself into knots to justify her worldview, and it's fascinating! She's so messy I adore her.
Please Supergiant please the final surface boss has to be a human pleeeaaasse (preferably a living one). Or at least have one (or more) show up in some other capacity. Mel needs to come face to face with the other side and have it utterly destroy her worldview.
And/or have (Pan)Dora betray her for Prometheus, that would also be very fun haha.
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thebearer · 7 months ago
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love me tomorrow |carmen berzatto x reader| part three
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prompt: after time apart, you and carmen meet up for the first time since the fight.
or part three and the final part of the devastation fic (spoiler- the resolution haha). part one and part two can be found here :)
contains: angst. hurt with comfort (finally lol). mentions of mean!carmen, past fighting. past trauma, family trauma. carmen's been to therapy (yay). language. mom!reader x dad!carmen. fluff at the end, i had to make it a little funny and end on a light note bc it felt so heavy lol. word count- 4.7k+
“He’s here,” Sugar announced, the chime of a doorbell following nearly cinematically. 
Your shoulders tightened, stomach twisting with an ache of nerves you tried to swallow. You were so nervous- why were you so nervous? He’d fucked up, not you. He was here to grovel and beg for forgiveness, not you. Still, you felt your hairline prick with heat, hands clammy when you heard the door opening downstairs. 
“Okay,” You tried to steady your voice, exhaling slowly out of your nose. “I’m almost done.” 
Sugar nodded, not leaving, keeping her post behind you. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Sugar looked at you through the mirror, arms folded over her chest, watching you carefully for a sign- anything that would give her a red flag, make her call this off. 
“I know,” You swallowed your buzzing nerves, jittery in the pit of your belly. 
“I’ll tell him to go away. You give me the word, and I’ll kick him out.” Sugar stood, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you. “Seriously. One wrong word, wrong look, anything, he’s gone. Say the word.” 
You gave a small smile. “I think I’ll be alright, but thank you.” You muttered, looking down at your bare ring finger. You still found yourself reaching for your ring, heart spiking in a panic when you’d see it was gone, only to sink when you remembered why- why you left it. 
“I feel like it’s time.” You admitted, trying to convince yourself more than Natalie. You were still unsure, so jarred and hurt by the last time you’d spoken to Carmen. The things he’d said, how he’d hurt you. “I think we have to figure something out.”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Sugar gave you a pointed look. “Trust me, if this was me, Pete would never live that down- never. He’d be at my mercy for the rest of his life, if I even let him back into it.” 
You knew Natalie wasn’t joking, that she would do just as she said, but that was also easy for her to say; when Pete could not fathom ever thinking those things about her, let alone saying them to her. Sometimes you wished Carmen could be softer, a little more like Pete in that way. 
“He’s been going to therapy,” Richie’s voice played in your mind. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Tryna get better for you, for both of you. He loves you, you know that, sweetheart. He’s just… He’s fucked up, y’know? We all are a little, but he’s workin’ on it.” 
You hoped that was true. For your marriage, for your baby. Sugar and Pete had been taking Teddy to see Carmen. You couldn't bring yourself to see him yet, but depriving him of Teddy felt cruel and inhumane. 
Downstairs, you could hear her gurgling, Carmen’s soft tone greeting her in hushed excitement. It soothed you, even for just a moment, it felt familiar- felt like home. What you’d missed so badly, what you longed for to have again. 
“Uncle Carm, why haven’t you been staying here too?” MJ’s tiny squeak of a voice rang up the stairs, greeting you as you quietly crept down them. 
“MJ,” Pete muttered, shaking his head gently. “C’mon, bud, you know Uncle Carm’s been on a business trip.” 
“Right, yeah.” Carmen nodded, his hand patting Teddy’s back gently, soothing her and him. Just feeling the weight of her back on his chest, it put him at ease. She was bigger now, longer than he remembered, but he tried not to think about that, nose pressing into her soft tufts of hair. 
MJ saw you first, his face falling into a pout. “Aw, does that mean you’re going home?” He whined, looking at you then back at Carmen. “Are you takin’ Anchovy and Teddy?” 
Anchovy skittered towards you, running up the stairs at the mention of his name. He’d been a trooper with MJ and Maggie, both kids enamored with the cat who was less than impressed with them. 
Carmen stiffened at the sight of you, spine rigid, heart skipping and falling in his chest. There was a pause of awkward uncertainty, neither of you sure what to say. “If you’re good,” Sugar stepped in. “Maybe your aunt and uncle will let you play with them a little longer while they go out.” She looked at you, shrugging gently at the suggestion. 
You looked at Carmen, eyes meeting him in a brief, unsure gaze, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be- that would be great, MJ.” You gave a soft smile to the boy. 
Carmen stood, passing Teddy off to Sugar with a quiet muttering of thanks. He met you in the doorway, hand reaching for yours, but stopping himself, pulling back hesitantly. Instead, he held the door open, letting you pass by him first. 
The car smelled like a mix of cleaning supply, masked with car fresheners he’d stuck in the vents. He’d been smoking, more than usual, you were sure of it. He’d gotten down to one a day after Teddy was born, paranoid that he’d give her asthma or a rash or something worse. 
“Um,” Carmen hesitated, his voice shaking in a way that he hadn’t since your first date. “I was… I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere t-to talk?” Carmen’s gaze met yours, lips pressing together, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 
You nodded, your hands clasped in your lap, both of you too rigid, too uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You looked down at your nails. “We could go get coffee? Go to the one by the restaurant.” 
Carmen’s heart burned with a dull ache. The coffee shop a block from The Bear had been a staple in your relationship. When you’d first moved in together, to the shitty downtown apartment to be closer to the restaurant, Carmen would go every Sunday. Sometimes he’d pick up, other times you’d come with him, sit in the corner seat side by side in a booth- like the couples you used to roll your eyes at, lovesick. 
Someone was already sitting in that booth when you got there, so you settled for a small two seater in the back, secluded and empty. Carmen brought you your coffee without asking, he knew the order by heart now, etched into his mind permanently. 
“Thank you,” You muttered, accepting the paper cup, your eyes not meeting his, but your hands brushing. You didn’t pull away this time. 
Carmen sat across from you, a dread filled silence falling thick between the two of you. His knee bouncing under the table. “I, uh, I wanna talk first if-if that’s good with you.” Carmen’s eyes lifted under his ball cap, pulled low on his head, curls peaking out. 
You nodded, twisting the paper cup around on the table, too nervous to drink it. Carmen took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. “Take a deep breath before you start. It’s ok to take a second to get your words in order, Carmen. Collect your thoughts.” Dr. Mullins’ words rang through his head. 
“I wanna start by saying that I’m sorry.” Carmen looked at you when he said it, eyes rounding in a pathetically sweet way. “I-I’m sorry and I…I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never- It wasn’t you.” 
You looked down at the table, the familiar heat burning in your nose and throat, a threat of tears already. “Hey,” Carmen said firmly, leaning forward. “C’mon, look at me. Please?” You look at him hesitantly, jaw clenching, trying to keep yourself from crying. 
Carmen held your gaze, his lips pressing together in a tight line to keep his own emotions in. “It wasn’t you.” His gaze was intense but soft all at once, holding yours. “It… It was all me. All of it. I-I was overwhelmed, I was stressed, I fucked up, a-and-” Carmen’s voice cracked, breaking at the end, his hand running over his face to try and calm himself. 
You felt your own eyes well with tears, chin ducking closer into yourself, leaning towards him. You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand that rested on the table, squeeze it in comfort like you always did. Instead, you looked at him, waiting for him to continue. 
“And I shouldn’t have said any of that shit because-because none of it was true.” Carmen continued, his voice strained. 
“So why’d you say it then?” You surprised yourself with the firmness in your tone, edging on a snap. 
Carmen blinked, surprised but not entirely shocked. His knee bounced faster and faster under the table. He took a second, holding his breath before exhaling, trying to keep the growing tightness in his chest to a minimum. 
“I was stressed. I was tired. I-I was overwhelmed, and… and I was an asshole.” Carmen admitted, but you still didn’t seem convinced. You knew him better than anyone, better than Dr. Mullins, better than even Fak or Richie or Sugar. 
“I… I was hurting. I was hurting an-and I was so fuckin’ angry. I don’t-I don’t even know why I was so angry.” Carmen admitted, nodding slowly, eyes flickering from your gaze to his hands nervously. “I just… I think I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting. I just, I don’t know, I wanted someone else to feel like I was, an-and I should have- it was fuckin’ stupid, an-and selfish, and…” 
Your eyes were glassy with tears you tried to hide, blinking a tear that fell down your cheek, wiping it quickly. Carmen’s chest ached, burned with hurt at the sight of you. 
“And I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” He looked at you sincerely. “I-I-I never said anything more untrue and fuckin’ stupid in my life.” 
“You…” You took a breath, your voice shaking with emotions. “You really hurt my feelings, Carmen.” You admitted looking at him. He nodded, jaw flexing, neck blossoming with splotches of emotion. 
“I just don’t really understand how-how you didn’t mean to say those things. I mean, clearly you-you’ve thought that before.” Your voice lifted higher and higher, climbing with a cry that threatened to break. “I know you’re saying you didn’t mean those things, and I get that, but my problem is you’ve thought them before-” 
“-No, no, I swear-” 
“-You have, Carmen. Clearly you have. You wouldn’t- You didn’t just come up with that shit out of nowhere.” Your voice was beginning to climb, trying to level it out in the cafe, keeping your composure. You took a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, pad of your thumb swiping the corner of your eye to catch a stray tear. “Just… Just don’t lie to me.” 
Carmen pressed his hands together, trying hard to remember his breathing while his mind was racing. Sugar was right, it was uncomfortable, worse than he could have imagined. 
“You’re right,” Carmen admitted with a nod. There was no point in lying, not to you, you always knew better, knew him better. “I-I did, but not-not like that. Not,” Carmen’s breath hitched, chest tight with a wave of anxiety. 
“You know wh-when I was at the restaurant, and I… I would be ready to rip my fuckin’ hair out. Everything was just goin’ to shit, o-or we’d realize there was a critic on the books, or I’d forgot to order some shit, I’d be going fuckin’ crazy, ya know?” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in tumbles of jumbled truth.
 “I’d go to my office for a second, just to-just to take a fuckin’ breath, and… and I’d check my phone and I’d see a text from you.” His heart swelled at the memory. You’d text him updates through the day, knowing he’d seen him when he could. Baby Teddy in her crib, Anchovy in the bassinet, her outfit for the day, nap time- all the moments he missed at work because you wanted him to see. You had considered him. Carmen missed it more than words could describe the past days, checking his phone out of habit, hoping to see a little OOTD with a smiley face and a wrinkly baby Teddy attached- instead, he saw nothing. 
“I’d just… I don’t know. I was sittin’ there, just fuckin’ stressed o-or angry, and then I’d see that and I-I’d feel,” Carmen paused. Gather your thoughts, gather your thoughts. 
“I felt… I just felt weird about it?” Carmen’s brows pinched together, looking at you for help, unsure. Your face fell, his heart lurching with fear. 
“No, no, no, no. Not-Not like that. I- fuck, that’s not what- I love the pictures. Love them. I-I- They’re the only things that get me through the day, it-it’s not that-” Carmen stuttered out, head dropping into his hands in defeat. Way to go, Berzatto. 
“Felt weird?” You repeated, calm, your way of soothing him. Keeping your voice even, steady without any tones he could read into and spiral. It was second nature at this point. “Weird how?” 
“It made me feel like… like I was, I was missin’ out.” Carmen admitted, eyes shining bright and a little wide like they always did when he’d finally admit something. Wide eyed, scared, almost, like he shouldn’t have told the truth. 
“I felt like, I’m at work, an-and you were at home with Teddy, and…and I felt like I was bein’ a shitty dad. Like I was there too much, an-and I’d miss out on her, and then I’d miss you, I’d just…” Carmen threw his hands out lightly, cheeks puffing with a slow, shaky exhale. 
“I was jealous, maybe? Ma-Maybe that’s the word, but I just… I didn’t want to be there, and I know,” He lifted his voice before you could begin to speak. “I know I’m th-the boss, and-and I get that. And it’s not- it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault you’re home- I’m glad you’re home, I am, because you’re doin’ so much. You are, an-and I know that, I know. You’re-You’re doin’ the most important job in the fuckin’ world, I mean, you’re keepin’ ou-our baby alive.” 
Carmen laughed humorlessly, a scoff that turned into a sniffle, shaking his head. You sat quietly, listening to his words, taking them in with a slow nod. Carmen looked at you, trying to read you, taking in your expressions. Your shoulders less tense, tired, face neutral but he saw the way your lips twitched, holding back a cry. 
“Just sometimes when-when I’d be in the shit, I’d just want to be home.” Carmen admitted. “I’d want to be home, but… but I knew I couldn’t be. I knew I had to-to take care of things, take care of you an-and Teddy, and I don’t- fuck, I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I like doing it, I mean obviously I fuckin’ do, it’s just- it-it’s a lot sometimes and I get-” 
“-Carm,” You cut off his ramblings, reaching across the table, your hand sliding over the top of his, squeezing it gently. 
Carmen thought his lungs might have given out, his heart too, looking down at your hand in awe. Bolts of electricity shot through his body, tingling at his skin that touched yours with excitement. He’d missed this, missed your touch, missed you. It felt surreal, sitting here, feeling you, seeing you. 
“I’m sorry.” Carmen whispered, turning his hand to hold yours. Hands clammy, fingernails bitten to the quick. His fingers intertwined in yours, holding your hand so tightly your fingers tingles. He held your hand like he was scared to let go, like if he did he might never get to hold your hand again. 
“I’m sorry. It-It wasn’t fair. It..It’s not fair.” Carmen squeezed your hand, shaking his head lightly. “You didn’t… I don’t know how to say how much you mean to me.” Carmen looked at you, eyes glassy, red rimmed with tears that gathered at his water line. 
“I, uh, I-I tried to- Well, Richie’s thera- my therapist told me to, uh, to try an-and write out what I wanted to say to you. Take time and reflect and give it to you, but I, uh, I was up all night because I kept starting over.” Carmen rambled on. 
“Everything I was tryna write it just… it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t do you justice.” Carmen looked up at you, thumb brushing over your knuckle gently. “I felt like it just wasn’t enough. They’re aren’t any words to describe you. To…To describe what you mean to me, an-and how much I love you.” 
You swallowed back a sob, looking into his eyes. An intensity you hadn’t seen since he said his vows, maybe more now. “I-I love you so much, and… and I don’t deserve you. I don’t fucking deserve you.” Carmen choked out, a sob slipping out between his confessions. 
“I-I’m a fuckin’ loser, an-and a psycho, and I-I’m a shitty dad and husband…And I-I’m fucked up, and you-you chose to love me anyways. An-And to marry me, and have a kid with me- start a family with me. And what do I do? I fuck it up, and I don’t deserve you. I never have, an-and I never will.” Carmen rambled, tears sliding down his cheeks freely, leaning towards you, shoulders stuttering with a choking of tears.
“Don’t say that.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “Don’t say that-” 
“-No, it’s true, it’s fuckin’ true-” 
“-No, it isn’t. Carmen, don’t say that.” You reach your free hand out, cupping his cheek across the table, thumb swiping over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You held him, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he turned into your touch, breath slowing. 
“You’re not a loser. You’re not a psycho. You’re not a bad dad, or-or a bad husband either.” You leaned forwards, closing in the gap between the two of you, the edge of the table digging into your stomach. “You made a mistake-” 
“-No, that’s-that’s- it’s worse than that. It’s so much fuckin’ worse than that. Don’t-” 
“-You made a mistake.” You said, firmer this time, cradling his cheek in your hand. 
Carmen took a breath, squeezing your hand in his, sniffing deep to keep his tears in. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like my parents.” He whispered, eyes rounding in a scared way. “I-I don’t want to fuck up you o-or Teddy or… I just don’t wanna end up like them. I wanna be different.” 
“You’re not gonna end up like them.” You shook your head softly. 
“No, I-I was actin’ just like them.” Carmen muttered. “Yellin’ at you a-and actin’ like a complete fuckin’ lunatic. Just like them, an-and I don’t wanna live like that.” 
“You won’t.” You reassured him gently, whispering across the table. He shook his head in protest. “Carm, listen to me. You’re… You’re not like them, ok?” 
You could feel Carmen start to shake, a trembling through his system that was a tell-tale sign of a panic attack. Your eyes scanned over the restaurant, filling up with the mid-afternoon rush. “Come on,” You nodded towards the door, pushing your chair back, hand still in his. “Let’s get some air.” 
Carmen didn’t argue, he wouldn’t- couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your hand in his, squeezing his gently, pulling him towards the car. Carmen pulled the keys out with shaky hands, unlocking the door. He reached for the passenger door, but you pulled the back door open instead, surprising him when you slipped in the backseat, nodding at him to follow you. You squeezed into the middle, Teddy’s car seat pressed to your back, Carmen pressed into your side, shutting the door.
“You’re not like them.” You broke the silence, turning yourself towards him. “You’re not.” 
Carmen leaned his head back against the seat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “You-You don’t have to do this, say that.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it.” 
“Carmen, you’re not like your parents.” You reached for his hand again. “The fact that you’re scared to be like them, scared and trying to stop it, that shows me you’re not like them.” 
Carmen’s chest stuttered, a hissing of a cry leaving his lungs. “You made a mistake.” You swallowed, your own heart aching. “But… But that doesn’t mean you’re as a whole a bad person. It just means you made a mistake, and if you learn from it and become better, then it’s ok. It’s a lesson learned.” 
Carmen nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tight like he was trying to keep everything in. “I just…I really fucking miss you.” Carmen admitted through a wobbly voice, eyes still closed. “I-I really miss you, and… and I want you to come home.” 
You shook your head, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I miss you too.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much.” 
Carmen turned, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you tightly into him. His nose pressed into the top of your head, breathing in detergent that didn’t smell like what you used at home, shampoo, too. You held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing him further and further into you until it felt like your bodies were meshing together, fusing into one. 
Whispered apologies shared through teary, wet sniffles filled the space. Carmen’s nose rubbing against yours, hesitating before he kissed you. You pulled him into you, finally soothing the aching longing that had built in your chest, your lips catching his, the two of you staying unmoving, wanting to feel the other. Clinging to each other, hands grabbing, lips parting, Carmen pressing you against the car seat, hand cradled on the back of your head. 
“I-I understand if you still don’t wanna come home.” Carmen muttered, breath hot over your cheek, nose rubbing against your skin. “But I really fuckin’ miss you.” 
“I miss you too.” You muttered, lips buzzing against his neck, tears hot and trickling onto the collar of his t-shirt. “I-I want to come home.” 
“A-Are you sure?” Carmen’s eyes lit up with hope, though he tried to hide it, the way he always did; too scared to let him get too excited, too hopeful because he always feared it would end. 
“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding gently, balling the back of his shirt between your fingers. 
“Yeah?” Carmen repeated, lips pressing together to keep his cry in, a different one this time. One of relief. For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, like his lungs weren’t constricting and on the brink of collapse. His mind didn’t race and cloud with delirious confusion. No, here and now, holding you, Carmen had clarity. 
The both of you stayed in the back of the car, holding the other, chest to chest until your heartbeat became the same, steady rhythm, matching the others. 
Carmen held your hand on the drive back, pressing wet kisses to your knuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of any tears. “Can’t let Pete see me cryin’ again.” He muttered. “That was a new fuckin’ low.” You had giggled softly, enough to have his heart fluttering. He’d never admit it out loud, not now, anyways, that he was thankful for Pete. How he’d taken care of you, of Teddy, of Anchovy. He’d stuck up for you, even if it was against Carmen, and that meant the world to Carmen. 
Pulling into Sugar and Pete’s house, Carmen shoved the gear shift into park, his hand still in yours, both of you sitting in each other's company for a minute longer. Just a little bit longer the two of you, before you had to face the others. 
“Oh, uh, one more thing.” Carmen’s thumb ran over your knuckles before he let go of your hand for a moment, raising up in the seat to dig into the front pocket of his jeans. 
“I, uh, I brought your rings back.” Carmen’s voice dropped, a shake in his words that matched the shake in his hands, pinching your wedding band and ring in between his fingers. 
You swallowed at the sight, Carmen holding the ring between his fingers, it took you back to years before when he’d proposed. Nearly as nervous as he was now, just as shaky, but for a different reason. 
“You don’t have to put them on or anything. I don’t- I’m not tryna make you do that, it’s your choice, obviously. I just,” Carmen took a breath, looking at you. “I thought you might want them back.” 
You paused for a moment, looking at the rings, the sting of the last time you saw them still burning and aching in your chest, but this time, it wasn’t as crushing. It was more of a dull ache, a tiredness that came with it instead of devastation. 
Reaching out, your fingertips tickled his palms, gathering the two rings in your hand. You looked at them, turning them over in your hands. “Thank you,” You mumbled, looking up at Carmen. He swallowed, giving a nod, trying to mask the hurt that you hadn’t put them back on- you didn’t miss it. 
“Do-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Will you put them back on?” You blinked at him, wide eyed, asking so sweet, Carmen thought his heart might give out entirely. 
You held the rings out towards him. “Will you put them back on for me? Please?” 
Carmen didn’t deserve you. The notion rang loud over and over in his head again, throat burning, welling up with tears. He didn’t deserve you. You were too good, too fuckin’ good for him. 
His hands trembled, holding yours and slipping the rings back onto your ring finger, back to their rightful place. Carmen twisted them, a deep breath of a sob that was threatening to break filling the space. His fingers intertwined with yours, free hand cupping your jaw, pulling you into a kiss over the console. 
Sugar looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. “What’re they doin’ out there?” Pete whispered behind her, like the two of you might hear them. “Do they look happy? Sad? You don’t think it went bad, do you? I mean, Carmen can be-” 
“-Pete,” Sugar snapped with a soft huff. “Look for yourself.” She moved, biting back a small grin. 
Pete slid in her place, pushing the blinds apart, sneakily looking out the side of them. He could see the two of you in the car, Carmen’s hands on the back of your head, holding you while you leaned across the console in a deep, passionate kiss. 
“Well, lookie there.” Pete grinned, letting the blinds fall. “I guess there was a happy ending after all.” 
Sugar rolled her eyes, lips twitching in a small smile. “He still has a lot to make up for. I hope she didn’t let him off the hook too easily.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I am glad they made up. I would kill Carmen if he fucked things up with my favorite sister-in-law.” 
Pete let out a small laugh, looking out the window again. “The kids are gonna miss Teddy and Anchovy when they go back. MJ’s gonna be devastated they’re taking them.” Pete muttered, Sugar nodded. 
Pete paused for a moment, looking behind him with a soft frown. “Y’know, this is gonna sound crazy, Nat, but I’ll be kinda glad when Anchovy is gone.” Pete admitted in a hushed tone, like Anchovy might hear him. 
Sugar snorted lightly. “Yeah. Except MJ and Maggie will be begging for a cat of their own. They’ve already started and I told them-” 
“-No, I mean,” Pete turned, watching the orange cat slink around at the top of the stairs, Anchovy glaring down at Pete before disappearing to the guest room. “I don’t think that cat likes me.”
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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 10 months ago
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𝒢𝑜𝑜𝒹 & 𝐹𝒶𝒾𝓉𝒽𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒮𝑒𝓇𝓋𝒶𝓃𝓉
haha, another fic I wanted to finish...I'm team Black, I swear...but Alicent is just too pretty I don't know what to say
Summary: Alicent struggles to deal with the feelings she harbors for you, her chambermaid and ally.
Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), religious guilt, infidelity, slight dubcon, oral, fingering, some angst
word count | 3.2k🤙🏻
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Alicent sighs heavily as you inform her of yet another servant that has been chased away by her son, Prince Aegon. She didn’t know why she was surprised anymore, it happened so frequently. Even worse, she expected it to happen more often as he aged. She just couldn’t catch a break…
It was hard enough being married to an old, rotting man at such a young age, but to raise all of her children alone? Alicent often wondered how they aren’t turning out worse than they already are. She had no support from anyone, not her husband nor her own father, him banished from the Red Keep and Lord Strong only helping her for his own gain and power. She couldn’t even rely on her childhood friend anymore, now her stepdaughter. It was almost laughable the hand Alicent was dealt. The Gods were cruel. But they did give her one good thing though; you.
You had been Alicent’s personal servant ever since her last child was born, helping raise them the best you could whenever Alicent had to rule in the king’s name, meaning she was often busy. You clicked instantly, though you had a sort of talent for always getting on someone’s good side. You could see the light in her eyes that was slowly dying out the older she got and the more time she had to spend in the Red Keep. You could tell she missed her home and her father, so you often comforted her whenever those feelings seem to cloud her thoughts. She warmed up to you pretty quickly, longing for a companion other than her favorite child. And when she needed information, you’d get that for her too. Unlike Lord Strong, you didn’t ask for anything in return.
The first time you made her laugh was when you accidentally voiced your thoughts about fantasizing about kicking his cane out from underneath him. You thought she’d scold you for thinking such a horrible thing, but the prettiest sound you ever heard escaped from her lips. Bashful giggles filled her chambers which caused your face to heat but filled you with a sense of pride. Even so, Alicent looked more ashamed of herself for finding what you said funny. But from then on, you were determined to make your queen laugh whenever appropriate.
She confided in you a lot, about everything, even things she never admitted to herself before you came along. You never judged her, ever. You may have been biased but in your eyes, your queen could do no wrong. For Alicent, ever since getting close to you, she started to feel things she thought she never would again. She hadn’t felt this happy being around someone since Rhaenyra was her best friend all those years ago. But therein lied another problem; Alicent wasn’t just friends with the Targaryen princess, she wanted to be more than that. Now that she was feeling that same way about you, her feelings of guilt came back even stronger than before. 
Alicent always struggled with accepting herself. All her life, she was told how to behave and how she should be. Following the Faith of the Seven, being attracted to the same sex was strictly forbidden. It was just another reason to pick at her cuticles until they bled. She hadn’t done it in a long time (mostly thanks to you), but every time she had…sinful thoughts about you, she didn’t even notice she was hurting herself again until you called her out on it.
You were concerned and had asked what had been causing her to hurt herself again, but Alicent very well couldn’t tell you the truth, could she? So, she blamed it on Aegon’s behavior and that seemed to quell your curiosity, but you still kept a more watchful eye on her to keep herself from picking at her skin. You just didn’t know that you were the cause and kind of made it worse, though it meant you spent even more time with her, so she couldn’t really complain. But after this incident with the servant girl that Aegon harassed, you could tell Alicent needed time to herself, so you quietly dismissed yourself.
You felt horrible for thinking such things at a time like this, but you also felt you needed some special time to yourself. Unbeknownst to Alicent, you were having some of the same issues she had. Although, you were ashamed of yourself about it. Even though she was upset, Alicent looked absolutely stunning in her green dressing gown and the urge to relieve yourself was almost overbearing. Now, you weren’t the most lecherous individual, but to say you weren’t a prude would’ve been an understatement.
You had some distant relatives from Dorne and went to visit them for a couple months, your parents saying something about you needing to experience the world before being tied down to King’s Landing. You weren’t going to complain, in all your life you never thought you’d ever even travel past the Stormlands. You were somewhat sheltered, but just a few weeks in Dorne and you learned more than most highborn ladies ever did. You learned much about yourself with the help of the Dornish, especially learning about your sexuality which everyone was open about there. Even just a kiss in public between lovers always seemed to be looked down upon north of Dorne. You came back to King’s Landing changed, but for the better.
You found pleasure whenever you could and without shame, but you also knew you had a reputation to uphold, not just for yourself but for the family you worked for. Not many people get the opportunity to serve the royal family, so you knew acting out on your feelings for the Queen  was the quickest way to getting your head impaled on a pike for all the Red Keep to see. You would be labeled a heathen, whore, and a dishonor to your family and those statements would follow you all the way to the Seven Hells. So, you always found your release in the privacy of your own chambers, not having to fear wandering eyes or ears. If you were ever to go to a brothel on the Streets of Silk, word would travel before you could even blink. But you couldn’t think of that now. As you laid back in your bed with your hand in between your thighs, all you wanted to think of was your Queen Alicent.
You ran your delicate fingertips over your hardened nub hastily, grabbing at your breasts, desperation painting your features as you thought of Alicent’s soft lips. You imagined how they’d feel pressed against your own, on your neck, chest, and even further south. Just the image threatened to oversensitize you, but you needed the thought to find release. “Alicent…” You breathed a whimpery whisper, your peak building steadily, that burn in your belly spreading over you like waves. But just as you were about to finish, you heard a loud gasp. “My Queen-!” 
The Queen Alicent stood wide eyed in shock, mouth agape, unable to stop herself from looking where your fingers were coated in your arousal, your cunt glistening in the sunlight seeping through the curtains into your chambers. “My apologies.” Alicent spoke curtly, quickly turning and exiting your chambers without another word.
In quite a blunt manner, you expressed your embarrassment as soon as she was out of your sight: “Fuck.” You prayed to the Seven that she hadn’t heard you moan her name.
In truth, you had nothing to worry about. Queen Alicent was too flustered to even register that she was the object of your desire, blood thrummed loudly in her ears as her face reddened at the sight of you in the throws of near ecstasy. She didn’t know how to react, and she certainly didn’t know what to do about the ache in between her legs as she made it back to the sanctuary of her solar.
Alicent sat in her chair with a shaky exhale, closing her eyes to try and calm herself, only to see the image of your fingers inside yourself. She could still hear the faint sound of the moist suction from your fingers moving in and out, sending a shiver down her spine. She didn’t realize she was picking at her cuticles until she felt a droplet of blood running down her hand. It wasn’t enough that she had these sinful feelings and desires, the gods kept tempting her, but that went too far. How is she supposed to resist temptation when she has to be around someone so intoxicating as you? It wasn’t fair. Why were the gods consistent in handing her the short straws in life? What had she done to deserve such divine punishment?
The ache in Alicent’s core hadn’t faded, the image of you still burning through her mind. She gazed around, there was no one but her in her chambers and there was no one likely to barge in without knocking first. Perhaps this one time, she could try to quell that desire that’s begun to feel so familiar every time she’s around you. But she didn’t know where to start.
Of course Alicent knew of her clit, but she never dared to touch it lest she gets sent straight to one of the Seven Hells. But that spot of throbbing so badly, it would hurt to leave it untouched. So cautiously, she lifted her skirts past her knees, experimentally running her fingers up her inner thighs. The closer she got to that aching spot, the more her breath quickened. And just as she was about to reach closer, she stopped abruptly. No, as soon as she gives in to herself it's more likely she’s to give in to you. That couldn’t happen. That will not happen, or so she believed.
The next couple weeks were awkward, to say the least. The Queen could rarely make eye contact with you, let alone sit with you in private as you used to do. You knew it wasn’t really your fault, but you still felt guilty Alicent caught you like that. You knew she wasn’t used to pleasure, her marriage to an old man being proof enough. You felt bad for her, but you didn’t know how to help her if you even could. You tried easing into a discussion about it, but she never took the bait. You would’ve given up entirely if it weren’t for you catching her staring at you on multiple occasions. And besides, if she was offended or heard you moaning her name, you’d be a headless body right now. But the way you caught her looking at your fingers with an almost glazed over expression, you figured she wasn’t offended and uncomfortable with you, but herself. The poor woman, she didn't understand it at all, did she?
You decided to confront her later in the evening, when her other maids rested for the night and the children were asleep. Your heart thumped in your chest rapidly, scared but excited for how this conversation might turn out. You watched as she sat in her plush chair in exhaustion, looking at the window in thought. She was beautiful.
“Your Grace?” Your soft whisper almost startled Alicent if it wasn’t for the fact she was acutely aware of your presence at all times. “May I speak with you?”
Alicent shut her eyes, already knowing what you must’ve wanted to talk about. She did not want to have this conversation at all, but there was no escaping it any longer. “You may…” She spoke quietly, tensing up when you took steps closer to her, sitting on the footrest of her chair, entirely too close for comfort. It wouldn’t have bothered her before, your closeness, but all she could think about was you pleasuring yourself.
“If I can be quite blunt, your Grace…you’ve been distant these past couple weeks and it’s quite obvious why.” Alicent’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest. “I hadn’t meant you to see me like that, my Queen. I thought I was alone…”
Alicent sighed, shaking her head. “I’m the one at fault. I never should’ve barged into your chambers like that, especially without knocking. You’ve nothing to apologize for.”
“And I’ve also noticed…how you can’t keep your eyes off me since.” 
Alicent breathed in a sharp breath, her lips dipping into a frown. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I believe you’re forgetting your place.”
With a shaky exhale, you placed a trembling hand on the Queen’s clothed knee, feeling her tense immediately. “I think you do, your Grace. I may be disrespectful right now, but I can’t help but see how everyone else treats you, including the King. I can see how he doesn’t even care to make you feel loved. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel like the only woman in the Seven Kingdoms.”
Alicent blushed brightly, whispering your name in disbelief.
“Please, let me serve you, my lady. Properly. That’s what I’m here for. I can’t see you like this any longer.” And without another word from either you nor Alicent, you delicately lifted her skirts up past her knees, smelling her obvious arousal from where you sat. She wanted this, whether she admitted it or not.
Alicent looked down at you with a conflicted expression, the soft tips of your fingers gently spreading her legs apart and tracing them up her inner thighs. Her core throbbed achingly, the guilt of sinning threatening to overwhelm her, but the feeling of you finally coming into contact with her dripping cunt making those feelings retreat to the back of her mind. So wet, you thought, bringing her face closer and licking a stripe up her slick folds. Alicent gasped at the sensation, the feeling of your tongue running up and down her sensitive flesh, making her wonder why she’d never had this done to her before.
Alicent’s moan as you circled the tip of your tongue around her clit was music to your ears, you would die a happy woman if you were able to hear her moans again and again. You needed to hear more. You used your middle finger to gently push inside her, feeling her tight walls clenching at the intrusion. She moaned your name as you thrusted your finger against her sweet spot as you lapped at her engorged clit. You could tell she was already so close, her moans raising an octave, her walls trying to push your finger out, and her hips bucking against your face. That fool of a King never made her feel this way, that much you were sure of. Could it be you’d be the first person to make her feel such pleasure?
You moaned as the Queen Alicent released on your finger and tongue, your mouth eager to taste and lap up all her sweet juices until she was licked clean. You were grinning as you pulled away, looking up at her like she was the one to put the moon and stars into the night sky. The Queen herself looked quite satisfied, a thin sheet of sweat coating her hairline, her natural curly auburn waves cascading down her body and framing her like a golden halo. Her eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated in the aftermath of her pleasure. “May I kiss you, your Grace?” But those words seemed to snap her out of whatever haze she was in, her eyes blinking rapidly, the fondness in them disappearing altogether and replaced with shame and rage.
“Leave. Now.” Alicent snapped, hastily smoothing out her skirts and pushing you away to stand. The feeling of rejection overtook the feeling of pride when you saw her legs tremble as she walked to her chamber doors, opening one and giving you a look that almost scared you. You left without another word, wondering if you should write to your family one last time before you were surely beheaded for overstepping.
You awaited death, but it never came.
Queen Alicent couldn’t stop thinking about you, no matter how much she tried to distance herself from you, you were her every waking thought. She hated feeling this way, wracked with such guilt. She couldn’t even look at her husband anymore, for fear that somehow he’d be able to sense her debaucherous acts with a servant. Her thoughts never drifted far from how amazing you made her feel, the memory of your tongue on her never failing to make her shiver. She had never desired someone so much after Rhaenyra, she never wanted to, but you invaded her mind and made a home there.
More weeks passed, you and Alicent together but never more apart. She only talked to you when she needed to, which she tried talking to other servants in your stead. It was infuriating, and it hurt. You almost regretted making your desires known, but it was done. You couldn’t change what you did. The Queen would have to decide for herself whether she wanted to continue what relationship you had on her own.
But for Alicent, it couldn’t have been further from simple. She wanted you, truly, but she’d be putting you and herself in danger if she pursued more. There were spies everywhere, and she couldn’t have any harm come to you. But every day, seeing you, it got harder to hold herself back. She needed you, and she knew you needed her just as much. At the end of the day, it wasn’t a difficult decision. She couldn’t keep herself away from you. You were shocked when she came barging into your chambers one day, without knocking once again. But she was the Queen, she didn’t have to knock.
“Your Grace.” You stood up from your bed with a startle, your heartbeat picking up at the sight of Alicent’s beautiful frame. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
Alicent sighed breathily. “I didn’t know I’d be coming here.”
You raised a brow. “Why are you here, your Grace?”
Without another word, the Queen rushed to you, taking you in her arms and colliding her lips with yours in a passionate embrace. You moaned in surprise, her soft lips felt like pillowy clouds as she moved against you, bringing your body close to hers desperately. You never thought a pair of lips could feel so heavenly. “Your Grace-”
“Alicent. Call me Alicent.” She interrupted, keeping her lips close to yours, never taking her eyes off you.
“Alicent…” You whispered, “are you sure you want this? Want me?”
“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” She spoke clearly, her big, brown, doe eyes boring into yours, making you feel like she could see into your soul. You believed her, and that was enough for you. Damn the consequences.
You surged forward, capturing her lips once again. “I’ve wanted this for an age.” You confessed against her lips, not having the will to pull away, even to tell her what you’ve wanted to say for what felt like a lifetime. “I’ve always wanted you, Alicent.”
“And I you…it took me a bit of time to figure that out. I apologize. I did not wish to be rude to you, but I was scared. I still am.”
You cupped her jaw, encouraging her to look into your eyes. “I’m scared too. But whatever happens will be worth being with you, my beautiful Queen.”
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i'm team black, i swear😰
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strawmaerry · 2 years ago
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gojo & megumi. | g. satoru
gojo satoru bringing home fushiguro megumi was something you did not anticipate of.
you were cooking a welcome home food for your menace, satoru, when he startled you with his teleportation and a frowning kid.
“hello to my prettiest girl, the love of my life, the light in the dar—”
you shushed him. “i thought you work as a sorcerer, never thought you would take kidnapping as a part time job.”
he pouted. he had the audacity to be offended. “excuse me?! how dare you accuse me of such blasphemous claim?”
you shrugged, used to his outrageous reactions. “well, you’re definitely the type of man that my mom warned me about. those guys who would entice you with candies just to get in a van?” you looked at him, up and down, “yup, that’s you.”
before he could answer, you heard a snicker from the kid. your lips slightly curled up before raising an eyebrow at your irritating (affectionately) boyfriend.
“oh,” he stupidly realized, “this is megumi, i’ve bought him from an auction.”
megumi kicked satoru’s shin and he pretended to be hurt. the spiky-haired boy dusted off the invisible particles on his clothes.
you snorted before going back to cooking dinner.
“so, tell me why you decided to change career that involves kidnapping children?”
“well, i wanted to practice on how to take care of a child when we decided to have one.”
you accidentally put your hand over the burning stove and satoru practically flies to you. he basically becomes a mother hen as he blows your hands.
“[name]! oh my god, what happened?”
you go to the sink to wash your hands as you blankly stare at your burning hands. oh man, you think your hearing is deteriorating. you’re hearing some things that are… impossible.
“satoru, you’re not funny.”
satoru, who has the most alabaster skin, pales. he’s hearing his government name. not ‘toru, baby, pretty boy, my husband.
“haha, pretty baby, what do you mean? i’m always funny. ha. ha.”
“don’t kid around like that. you know our job is…” you trail off, unable to continue the sentiment.
in a world where you attend more funerals than birthdays; you greet more corpse than people; having to work under those ungrateful elders, tomorrow is uncertainty, so you try to enjoy the present as much as you’re alive.
he seems confused for a moment before a dawning realization etches on his face. his eyes soften before wrapping his arms around your waist.
“i really wanna see you carry my babies, y’know? wanna see you round and full an—okay! i know we’re still not finish in school but whenever i see my future, i see you in it. i see us together. i see us forever and i want that. i don’t want to live in a life without your presence. you brought me so much joy if you weren’t crying right now, i would be on my knees begging for you to take me. make me your one and only. make me the happiest and luckiest man on earth because that’s my only purpose why i was born in this cruel, yet beautiful world. i live for you.”
tears run down on your cheeks as you hear satoru’s honest thoughts about his joke. oh my god, how did a simple joke turn into an almost-but-not-quite proposal?
you cradle his face between your hands and kiss his sweet, soft lips that utter nothing but devotion to you. you feel him smile against yours.
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juniepops · 10 months ago
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I’m honestly at a point of like . Fuck it I do not care if people make egg jokes I do not care if people say any feminine guy should be a woman. People are under 100000tons of constant crushing pressure to conform to the gender society tells them to under threat of all kinds of punishment. The treatment a feminine guy gets from everyone in his life trying to force him to be more masculine is magnitudes worse than if a trans woman happens to see him and be like “you’re kinda girly, what if you’re a girl” or god forbid “haha hey you remind me of myself before I transitioned”. It is just Not a real problem in the real world.
Plus as other people have pointed out there have been entire swathes of this site’s meme history with prominent jokes like “every Weird Girl who pretended to be a wolf and made yard potions is transmasc now” and nobody ever threw a fit over forcing transgender identity on others or Whatever . So why is it so evil and cruel when transfeminine people do it
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dia-souls · 7 months ago
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Diabolik Lovers Cute and Sweet Confessions (Based on DF and LE Games and CDs) part1
(❤️ fluff moments, cute confession, OOC, ... ❤️)
Shu to Yui: I...lose all meaning in life when you’re not with me. From here on out, I’ll protect both you and my family with my own two hands. To live alongside my precious family, and the woman I love. Komori Yui. I...love you. (DF Vampire.End)
Shu talking about Yui: Forcing her way into my heart, she’s a meddlesome, bothersome, and precious woman. Until she takes her final breath, I’ll continue to love her. (Zero CD track.04)
Shu talking about Yui: I’m well aware. Even so, I don’t plan on letting her go. If I fall into misfortune, I’ll simply drag her along with me, no matter how deep we may drop. (Zero CD track.04)
Reiji to Yui: My beloved Yui... No matter what kind of destiny lies ahead of us, we will always be together. Forever, and ever. (DF Vampire.End)
Reiji to Yui: Please make a promise. Vow that you will entrust your future to me, and me only. I love you. (BB CD track.05)
Reiji to Yui: The flowers right here are in full bloom right now. It is a beautiful garden. Let us pluck one of them. I am sure it will look lovely in your hair. (Daylight CD track.05)
Ayato to Yui: You’re right here in front of me. That’s why I want to touch you. Want to embrace you. Don’t want to let you go. Want you by my side... I love you Yui. No matter what becomes of the world, let’s be together. That’s simply how I feel. (DF Vampire.End)
Ayato to Yui: Don’t ever let go again, understood? …Well, I’m not lettin’ you even if you tried. Haha…I’ll love you and only you…forever. (BB CD track.05)
Ayato to Yui: I love you. More than anyone else in this world. I won’t let you go until death parts us. ...No, scratch that. Even if one of us dies, I’m not givin’ you up. (LE Vampire.End)
Kanato to Yui: Yui-san I’ll live on for your sake. So please be there by my side. Stay with me forever, and ever. This love is eternal... (DF Vampire.End)
Kanato to Yui: Your place to be is by my side. Likewise, you are the only person I wish to keep my by side. I won’t hand you over to anyone! (Zero CD track.04)
Kanato to Yui: You...were always the one holding me in your arms, while I failed to do anything for you. I was always on the receiving end, making demands...Even if it may be too late, is there really nothing I can do for you right now? For your sake, I will... (Daylight CD track.04)
Kanato to Yui: Honestly, the fact I’m able to hold your hand again like this...It feels like a miracle to me. I truly...truly am so relieved. I think I finally realize how valuable you and your life are. ー And what it means to have to part one day. ...As well as that it is something unavoidable. (Daylight CD track.05)
Laito to Yui: My life has been worth it, simply because I was able to meet you. ...Thank you. Even if I have been nothing but a marionette my whole life, my love for you is genuine. It’s such a trivial matter, when I consider I could have lost you. (DF Vampire.End)
Laito to Yui: Thank god...To think that for the longest time...I believed that I did not need something precious...or special to me...Yet right now, I can’t even phantom a life without you...That’s a huge change of heart...for me personally. So, please? From here on out, till forever. Or till your life comes to an end is fine as well... Stay with me, okay? (BB CD track.04)
Laito to Yui: You truly are a strange girl. You are probably the only one...who can rouse my emotions this much. It hurts. Very much so...I want you to love me from the bottom of your heart. (PS CD track.04)
Subaru to Yui: Thanks to you, I was able to change. I found something I wish to protect. All I want is for my precious family to smile. Because I realized there is no greater joy which exists in life. Thank you. (DF Vampire.End)
Subaru to Yui: I was able to break through the darkness, and overcome my own cruel fate.I’m never lettin’ you go again. Yui I will love you forever. (DF Vampire.End)
Subaru to Yui: No matter what the future holds for us, I’ll protect you so don’t ever leave my side again...Okay? I love you. (BB CD track.05)
Ruki to Yui: I didn’t think we’d one day tie the knot under the blue sky like this. ...I wonder if this warmth in my chest is what one would call ‘happiness’? ...I would have never gotten the chance to experience this feeling if I hadn’t met you. ...So thank you. ( DF Vampire.End)
Ruki to Yui: It’s because you’re here. You’re the one who makes the sky, and the whole world seem that much more beautiful. You are the one making me feel so fulfilled inside. You were my joy, my luck...and my hope. I doubt that will ever change. We will live and pass away together. That’s how I truly feel. I love you Yui. (DF Vampire.End)
Ruki to Yui: Let’s be together and love each other. Just like we vowed on this ring. Until the bitter end. (Daylight CD track.04)
Ruki to Yui: No need to be scared. I’m right here with you. Even if I were to leave, it would only be for a short while. Once you open your eyes, I’ll be there in front of you again. No matter where you find yourself waking up. I will come to see you at once. So...Don’t worry about a thing, and rest in peace. (Daylight CD track.05)
Kou to Yui: You’re so beautiful! I almost want to show you off to the whole world and brag about how you’re MY bride! Thank you so much for choosing me...I will treasure you for life. (DF Vampire.End)
Kou to Yui: Even if death tries to separate us...I won’t give up on you so easily again. I will vow my eternal love to you. Until the very last second. I love you Yui. (DF Vampire.End)
Kou to Yui: Please…Smile? …So I can burn the image of your smile...in my mind forever. (Daylight CD track.01)
Yuma to Yui: Try holding my hand. It’s warm, right? Hehe...It’s the same temperature as yers now, right? (DF Vampire.End)
Yuma to Yui: Still...Don’t ya think it’s ironic? I once survived a fire, yet here I am once again, surrounded by flames. ...I’ll love ya forever, and ever...Yui. (DF Manservant.End)
Yuma to Yui: Take a look. The sun has appeared in the sky. Right now, we’re the very first people on this earth to witness the sunrise. (Daylight CD track.05)
Azusa to Yui: I will never let you go again...I love you, Eve...Let’s savor these moments we spend together from here on out, okay...? (DF Vampire.End)
Azusa to Yui: I’m so happy to be able to live here together with you in this Paradise. A Paradise for just the two of us, where nobody will get in our way, or disagree with our relationship. Now it can be just the two of us, for eternity. (DF Vampire.End)
Azusa to Yui: If you were to become a flower…I promise I will continue to treasure you, just as much as I do right now…I’ll tell you how pretty you are every day, and give you water. And every time the petals move…I’ll think of it as you smiling. (Daylight CD track.05)
Carla to Yui: I promise that I shall forever protect you...as well as our child inside your belly, to show my thanks for granting me with such warm feelings. (LE Vampire.End)
Carla to Yui: I thought happiness was something I would never get to experience. But I believe that I have finally come to somewhat understand what it means. (LE Vampire.End)
Carla talking about Yui: To think she would seem so fleeting, in such a fragile physical state. Even so, she continued to strongly express her feelings for me. My irreplaceable partner. (Daylight CD track.05)
Shin to Yui: You are all I need. There is nothing else I want. ...Be with me forever, okay? (DF Vampire.End)
Shin to Yui: I-I’m begging you…!! Don’t leave me…! …Ugh…Why? …Just when…I finally saw the light thanks to you…This just can’t be, right? (Daylight CD track.05)
Shin to Yui: Right now I realize that being able to submit to others when needed is a sign of strength as well. It does not matter if this other person belongs to another race, or if they’re the enemy of us Founders. …I refuse to give up. Not until the bitter end. No way in hell! This is my chance…to show you how strong I truly am! (Daylight CD track.05)
Kino to Yui: You taught me many important things...Such as how to love someone...and trust others. Thank you so much, truly. (LE Vampire.End)
Kino to Yui: At this Promised Land, I want to live together forever. With you, the person more dear to me than anything or anyone else in this world. I love you Yui. (LE Vampire.End)
Kino to Yui: I honestly didn’t think there would ever come a day where I get to speak these words but...Let me say them. I love you Yui. More than anyone, or anything else. You are precious to me...even more so than my own life. (LE Heaven.03)
Kino to Yui: Hehe, I can’t believe just hearing you say my name…fills me with so much joy. If only I had realized this sooner. (Daylight CD track.05)
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secretmellowblog · 2 years ago
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The thing is, Jean Valjean’s “nineteen year prison sentence for stealing a loaf of bread” from Les Mis isn’t actually unusual….not even today! I see people talking about it as if it’s strange or unimaginable when it happens every day.
In modern America — often as a result of pointlessly cruel (and racist) habitual offender and mandatory minimum laws— people are routinely sentenced to life in prison for minor crimes like shoplifting or possession of drugs.
The ACLU did a report in 2013 detailing the lives of various people who were sentenced to life in prison without parole for nonviolent property crimes like:
•attempting to cash a stolen check
•a junk-dealer’s possession of stolen junk
metal (10 valves and one elbow pipe)
•possession of stolen wrenches
•siphoning gasoline from a truck
•stealing tools from a tool shed and a welding machine from a yard
•shoplifting three belts from a department store
•shoplifting several digital cameras
•shoplifting two jerseys from an athletic store
• taking a television, circular saw, and a power converter from a vacant house
• breaking into a closed liquor store in the middle of the night
And of course, so so so many people sentenced to life without parole for the possession of a few grams of drugs.
And we could go on and on!
Gregory Taylor was a homeless man in Los Angeles who, in 1997, was sentenced to “25 years to life” for attempting to steal food from a food kitchen. He was released after 13 years. The lawyers helping to release him even cited Les Miserables in their appeal, comparing Taylor’s sentence to Jean Valjean’s.
And there’s another specific bit of social commentary Hugo was making about Valjean’s trial that’s still depressingly relevant. He writes that Valjean was sentenced for the theft of loaf of bread, but also that the court managed to make that sentence stick by bringing up some of his past misdemeanors. For example, Valjean owned a gun and was known to occasionally poach wildlife (presumably for his starving family to eat.) . So the court exaggerates how harmful the bread theft was—he had to smash a windowpane to get the bread, which is basically Violence— then insist the fact that he owns a gun and occasionally poaches is proof that he is habitually and innately violent. Then when Valjean obviously becomes distressed traumatized and furious as a result of his nakedly unjust sentence and begins making desperate (and very unsuccessful/impulsive/ poorly thought through) attempts to escape…. the government indifferently tacks more years onto his sentence, labels him a “dangerous” felon, and insists that its initial read of him as an innately violent person was correct.
And it’s sad how a lot of the real life stories linked earlier are similar to the commentary Hugo wrote in 1863? Someone will commit a nonviolent property crime, and then the court insists that a bunch of other miscellaneous things they’ve done in the past (whether it’s other minor thefts or being addicted to drugs or w/e) are Proof they’re inherently violent and incapable of being around other people.
A small very petty fandom side note: This is also why I dislike all those common jokes you see everywhere along the lines of “lol it’s so unrealistic for the police to want to arrest Valjean over a loaf of bread, there must have been some other reason the police were pursuing him. Because the state would never punish someone that harshly and irrationally for no reason. so maybe javert was just gay haha”. (Ex: this tiktok— please don’t harass the creator or poster though, I don’t think they were intending to mean anything like that and its just a silly common type of joke you see made about Les mis all the time so it’s not unique in any way.) because like.
As much as I don’t think Les Mis is a flawless book or that its political messaging is perfect….the only way that insanely long unjust sentences for minor crimes is “unrealistic” is if you’re operating on the assumption that prisons are here to Keep You Safe by always only punishing bad criminals who do serious crimes. And that’s just, not true at all. Like I get that these are just goofy silly shallow jokes, and I’m not angry or going to harass anyone who makes them. but it feels like there’s an assumption underlying all those goofy jokes that “this is just not how prison works!” “Prisons don’t routinely sentence people to absurd laughably unjust pointless sentences!��� “Prisons give people fair sentences for logical reasons!” When like…no
Valjean being relentlessly hounded and tortured for a minor crime in a way that is utterly ridiculous and arbitrary in its cruelty is not actually a plot hole in Les mis. It’s a plot hole in …..society ajsjkdkdkf. And the only way to fix that is to fight for prison abolition or at least reform, and (in America) stand up against the vicious naked cruelty of habitual offender and mandatory minimum laws.
But yeah :(. I hate how Les Mis opens with a prologue saying the novel will be obsolete the moment the social issues it describes have been resolved— but two hundred years later, the book is still more relevant than ever because we’re dealing with so many of the exact same injustices.
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ask-the-pioneer · 7 months ago
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"I've always been captivated by them. Something about the shiny exterior, how they glimmer when you tumble them around in your hands. My younger self would obsess about them, a childlike fascination. Even back then I instinctively knew they had value. My mom would use pearls I found to pay for a safe passage at scavenger tolls. We tried to bypass those points as much as we could, but sometimes it was unavoidable."
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"It's a looong story…. I was found roaming the wilderness by my mentor, who brought me to er, an entity, called an interator. Do you know of iterators? Apparently they are what was left of an ancient civilization that once inhabited these lands. I couldn't wrap my head around it at first. Iterators are massive, absolutely huge, like mountains. Do you see that big structure of a regular, smooth shape?"
[She points towards Five Pebble's can in the distance]
"That is an iterator's «superstrucute». A mountain, the entire thing… is a person. It still sounds crazy when I say it."
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"Ah, right, my name… like I mentioned, I got lost and my mentor found me. He brought me to his iterator. If my memory serves me right, his name is «No Significant Harassment», or NSH for short. I recall thinking at that time, «Harassment? I hope he won't be cruel to me». I had no concept of iterator names, their meaning, why it's three or however many words long. It was incredibly confusing to my young mind, though looking back at it I consider myself very lucky. The iterator was, dare I say, «god-like» (his own words), but benevolent. I saw how well he treated Hunter – my mentor – and it made me trust him more, even though I was scared and wary in the beginning."
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"Would you believe it if I told you… there are stories written inside the pearls? That those things I’ve been obsessing about all my life are used for storing information? I had many of them leftover from when I lived at a scavenger outpost. One cycle, NSH noticed my interest, and – I wish Hunter had told me about this sooner, but – the iterator shot at my head with something…? And suddenly I could understand everything he said. Not that he said much, because I started crying loudly and ran straight out of there, haha. But before I bolted, he gave me one of his pearls as consolation. I think he felt bad for the scared little me."
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"After that, he would eagerly read all the pearls I brought to him. That is how I learned more about the culture of the peoples who were here before me: the Ancients, their customs, why the iterators were built, and much more. It was like the knowledge of the entire world was suddenly revealed to me – to a seemingly insignificant being, a tiny speck in an endless ocean of life. It both made me feel very important, and very small. And, yeah, it has intensified my obsession with pearls beyond mortal limits. What if I could write into a pearl? I could archive the history of my entire species! All the stories my mom told me when I was small? All the places I’ve been to? Or other scugs have been to…"
[Her eyes widen, sparkling with glee]
"Y-yeah… that would be nice… sadly I am what I am – a slugcat. I don’t know how to do this very advanced stuff at all. I have no means of doing this. I once asked NHS for help, but there’s only so much he could guess from my frantic signing. I don’t think he understood me, in the end. But he did appreciate my efforts, and I was given a title – the Pioneer, like a person who is the very first to explore something uncharted. Apparently no slugcat before me thought of reading from or writing into pearls? I find it a little hard to believe."
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"This one! This is a very special kind of pearl – it contains an ancient poem from which my name originated. See, my name was a gift from NSH the iterator. It’s spelled: «Mirmyntasseth». The best way I would describe it, is… it’s a name for a feeling, or an experience. The way it was explained to me, is that the word «Mirmyntasseth» is an expression of seeing a marble roll on a flat surface, then hitting another marble. Ah, right, you may not know this – a marble is like, like a pearl, but translucent and even more ornate. I was told that marbles were used by the Ancients for entertainment. They had a game where you rolled one to hit another. I'll admit, I can see the appeal. Throwing rocks is fun, although I image this game was considered a more dignified pastime."
[She tumbles the dark pearl in her hands, admiring its luster]
"The poem inside this pearl, one of its verses spells: «Eight Marbles Cast in Stone». The poem itself is long… very long… I had the iterator read it to me once, and we had to stop in the middle because the rain was coming. Maybe I will ask NSH to read it again, when I’m back at his superstructure with Hunter."
[Her gaze trails off to somewhere far away for a moment, a subtle grimace on her face. She closes her eyes and shakes off the thoughts that cloud her mind]
"So, um… yes… that is why I am called Eight Marbles Cast in Stone, or Marbles for short. I like how it sounds, it has a nice ring to it. And it’s a gift from an iterator, a god-like being. I consider it a great honor."
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"…that said, I wonder why he didn’t just name me «Pearl»? Wouldn’t that make more sense? Maybe it didn’t sound cool enough. They’ve used pearls just to store information. I guess it’d be silly to be named «Dirt» because you doodle in dirt, or «Batfly» because you love eating batflies? Hmm…"
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jyoongim · 11 months ago
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Hiii
Alastor X human!reader where she is desperate to make a deal for fame and glory.
She tries to summon a demon, accidentally conjuring Alastor. Beside her feisty facade she’s quite innocent and naive. He’s intrigued by her and toys with her, like a prey,tricking her into him, she signs the deal. He’ll come back after 1yr to collect his pretty little prize…her body and soul. 🌶️🔥
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Title: A Price to Pay
part 2
You frowned at the check your boss had handed you.
Too little. You looked at your boss, a nervous smile on your lips as a laugh bubbled out of your throat ”haha this is half of what i should be getting. That’s funny, where's the rest? Am i getting that in cash or some?” Your boss laughed “HA! No thats what you’re getting for the week‘
Your eyes damn near popped out of your head.
 For the week?
This was your pay for the entire week?
Oh hell no!
You poked a finger into the mans chest “What?! The whole week? I’ve been singing my ass off in this shit hole for two weeks! Where are my commissions?” You were angry! 
He gave a low laugh as he pulled out a cigar ”You think just because you’re my best in this joint that I wasn’t gonna get the Final Cut? You better take it before i hand your ass nothing”
You sniffled as you wiped at your runny nose.
The yellow paper with EVICTION stared at you as you felt another wave of tear hit you.
Why? 
Why couldn’t you just make enough to stay afloat?
Why did you have to suffer?
Why didn’t fate grant you mercy?
You had been busting your ass for months trying to make enough money to just pay the damn pills.
You were the best singer on your side of town and that shit hole needed a singer almost every night and when big shots went there. The money wasn’t terrible, it beat standing out on the pier at night, waiting to be taken to gods know where.
You laughed dryly, you would gladly get pimped out if it meant that you could still afford food to eat.
Why was life so cruel?
You had worked so hard and it felt like it was all for nothing.
You could hear your momma in your head
”You wanna dream big? Then never let life beat you down. Take it by the balls and make your dream a reality”
The next thing you know, you found yourself pulling out your mother’s old grimoire and drawing symbols on your bedroom floor.
what the hell were you doing?
You used to scoff at your mother when she did spells. 
Because magic wasn’t real…right?
But it felt like you had no other option as you threw some herbs into the small fire pot.
Momma used to tell you about all types of things that were possible with a little magic. That you always had friends on the other side who could help if you knew what you doing.
And you indeed had no fucking clue.
But you were tired, angry, and desperate and wanted to do something about it.
This was your life!
You felt your body tingle as you chanted the incantation.
The room turned cold and the fire from the candles blew out. The building started to shake as you spoke the last verse and suddenly you were thrown back from an explosion in the middle of your pentagram.
You watched in terror as the floor glowed red and rising from the smoke was a very large demon.
You panicked as it began to stand, gulping at its full height.
Oh what did you just do?
—————————————————
Alastor blinked as he stood. Fanning the smoke away from his face, he grimaced once he saw the pentagram, candles, and herbs. Who dared? His ears perked at the sound of heavy breathing. He turned his head and red eyes caught sight of a mortal woman standing against the wall, eyes wide.
He took a step towards her, head tilting as she cowered away. He huffed as he got to the edge of the protection boundary. He gave her a smile, sharp teeth glistening with narrowed eyes 
“Hello my dear”
——————————————————————
You took in the tall demon that stood in your bedroom.
He was dressed like one of those fancy gents.
Red and black tailored suit with a cane.
You watched as he curled his lip when he saw your protection boundary. You felt your body freeze as his eyes met yours.
Red.
Glowing red. 
He was rather handsome looking for a demon. 
He reminded you of-
“Deer” you squeaked, causing Alastor to tilt his head, ears flicking.
oh come on! You can’t be scared of something that you’re in control of!
”Hello my dear” you heard him say. He stood on the cusp of the salt boundary giving you his full attention.
That smile of his was very uncanny.
You shivered.
You found your nerves and puffed your chest out
”Hello demon-sir”
”Alastor” you blinked at him “w-what?”
He never lost that smile “The names Alastor. Pleasure to meet you” you were at a lost for words.  Alastor took your silence to look around, your spellbook caught in his attention before he took you in.
You cleared your throat “I summoned-” “conjured” “You to um make a deal?” You said uncertain
Alastor smirked “oh reallly? And what makes you think Ill make a deal with a human like you?”
You frowned ”You don’t have a choice! I summoned YOU here you have to do what I ask!’
He laughed darkly “Oh my dear that isn’t how things work” he looked back at the salt ”lets chat”
You didn’t trust him, but he seemed friendly girl don’t do it
you inched close and with a sweep of your foot, dusted a bit of the salt to let him through.
Alastor stepped through and now you were being towered over.
Alastor took you in.
what a small thing you were. He was sure you had no idea what you were doing or dealing with.
But if it was deal you wanted, he will grant that.
”What do you want?”
You wrung your hands nervously as you spilled your sad excuse of a life and your far fetched dream.
You felt a surge of determination as you finished your little rant “That’s why I need a deal! I deserve to rise to the top! I’ve worked my ass off for years and nothing! Why-Why should I settle for this? My life deserved to be full of glamor and money! I deserve that right? Right! S-s-so what do you say”
Oh what an innocent thing you were.
Such a fire that had nowhere to burn.
Perfect 
Alastor feigned mulling it over, your face dropping as he walked away from you.
”A deal works both ways my dear”he started as he turned back to you “What will you give me in return?” His smile stretched across his face as his calm facade faded.
You gulped but you were not gonna back out “Ill give you anything j-just please I don’t care what I have to do!”
He was in front of you in a flash, making you take a step back nervously 
“Anything?” A clawed hand squished your cheeks hard as he leaned his face to yours
”prove it” he purred
You blinked.  How the hell were you suppose to do that?
Nothing in this world is free. Your momma taught you that and your warning bells were screaming.
His thumbs was running over your lips and you opened your mouth to suck it.
You could die right now. Was this worth it? To give up your dignity to a demon?
Alastor growled and in a swift motion, you were on your bedroom floor, heart thumping in your ears as you looked up at the demon on top of you.
Alastor’s free hand swiped down your body, tearing your clothes to shreds, leaving you naked.
You felt a soft heat curl in your stomach.
Alastor laughed darkly as he took in your naked form. His hand dipped down and thumbed at the small bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt.
Oh he was going to have fun with you
”One year.” He said as he dipped a finger into your tight heat.
You gasped around his finger.
”You’ll get your fame. You’ll have riches and power beyond your imagination. A top star. It’ll all be yours. But in one year you are mine. Your soul and body. Do we have a deal?” He was slowly fingering you, relishing in the softness your cunt offered as it squeezed around him.
Your body and soul in exchange for glory.
Did you still want this?
”yes” you whimpered
A green glow emitted around the two of you. Alastor eyes glowed and his antlers grew as he plucked his thumb from your mouth and slammed his lips onto yours as he rubbed your clit as he slammed his fingers into you.
”mmmhmm hmmm!’ You cried into his mouth as your orgasm hit you.
Your cunt clenched around him, creamy slick drowning his hand.
Your body buzzed as he retracted his fingers, watching in bliss as he licked your cum off his fingers.
”Oooh such a sweet cunt” He Purred at you as he scooped you up into his arms to lay you on your bed.
”Ill always keep close watch my dear, so don’t think you can back out of this” he said, you blinked sleepily as you felt the coldness of a necklace clasped around your neck.
“One year my dear”
Your world faded to black.
pt 2 coming soon..hehehe
@thewinchestah @catherine1206 @stygianoir @jellibean2018 @markster666 @strawberrypimp666 @3verlark @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @gojosaturos-wife @tojirights @polytheatrix @dennsfz @horrorartsworld @prosciuttosblog @yourdoorisunlocked @dievia3 @alastorsdarling @t0byisher3 @mneferta @purplecatsandhearts @alishii @okay-babe @danveration @absurd-ash @peachedtv @simphornies @fatnug @alastorsdear @alastwhore666 @stawberrypimpsimp @altruisticalastor @queenariesofnarnia @scaramoochiie @rradio-static @someonethatsnotimportantplshelp @squeekycheesecurd @squixythebee @catmunist @lbcreations-blog @coleisyn @bratty2bunny @v0xsw1fe @alstorloml @fizzled-phoenix @siiv3r @k1y0yo @yunimimii @wisteria-seal @kassa-stardust
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diamonddaze01 · 2 months ago
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Plan B (for Boo)
pairing: bsk x f!reader genre: frenemies to lovers | wc: 9.0k au: non-idol au warnings: alcohol consumption, both reader and seungkwan are emotionally constipated a/n: based on this tweet https://x.com/galacticidiots/status/1582385401997955072 // thank you to the amazing @wongyuseokie for this BOO-tiful banner and divider (haha get it.) // and an enormous thank you to my lovely wonderful betas @chanranghaeys and @lovetaroandtaemin
summary: it's just a stupid pact. what could possibly go wrong?
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“So,” he starts, his tone dripping with mock sincerity, “why are you still single? Could it be that no one wants to handle all this,” he gestures up and down with an exaggerated flourish, “24/7?”
You scoff, rolling your eyes as you sip your drink, but before you can respond with something equally sharp, he leans in a little closer, voice softer and yet somehow still insufferable. “If it’s still like this by the time we’re 30, maybe you should just give up and marry me. Think about it—life would be so much easier.”
It’s a jab, you’re sure. The kind he always takes. But maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact that it makes you laugh in a way that even catches him off guard—a laugh deep enough to make him blink before breaking into a grin too. And before you realize it, your own words slip out in response.
“Alright. If we’re both single at 30, I’ll marry you.” You shrug nonchalantly, but there’s a flash in his eyes that you can’t quite read. “And let’s be real, Boo—I’d be doing you the favor here.”
His brows shoot up as he crosses his arms, clearly ready to go head-to-head. “Please, I’d be your retirement plan,” he says with mock indignation, his tone warming for just a second as if this is more than a joke. Then, holding out his hand, he adds, “Deal?”
You shake it, the alcohol dulling the tiny voice that says this is a terrible idea. And just like that, you grin at each other, certain it’ll be nothing more than a passing joke, something to laugh about later. Neither of you knows that this will stick with you—that it’ll be a memory you revisit every time Seungkwan pops up at exactly the wrong (or right) moments.
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11 months, 23 days post-pact: 
The “pact” starts as a drunken joke during a night out, one of those silly promises that friends (well, frenemies) make when they’re feeling a bit too invincible. It’s almost always out of sight, out of mind, but fate is a cruel mistress. Just as things begin to go well with someone, Seungkwan inevitably shows up.
Today, you’re out with Keeho, a charming, laid-back guy you met at a friend’s party last month. After a few flirty texts, you both agree to meet for coffee downtown, and things are going smoothly. You find yourself in a cozy bookstore café on a lazy Saturday afternoon, the kind of place that smells of freshly brewed coffee and old books. Keeho is funny and easygoing, and you’re genuinely enjoying yourself.
Just as you settle into a cozy corner table, sipping your latte and discussing your favorite novels, you feel a chill pass through the air. The bell above the door jingles, and you turn just in time to see Seungkwan burst in, a whirlwind of energy in his bright, patterned sweater.
“Oh, you’re on a date!” he exclaims, his voice echoing off the bookshelves as he approaches. He has that familiar look in his eyes—part mischief, part determination—as he slides into the seat across from you without so much as a greeting to Keeho.
You freeze mid-sentence, watching in horror as your carefully curated date suddenly turns chaotic. “Yes, Seungkwan,” you say, forcing a smile as you lean slightly away from him. “This is Keeho, and we were just—”
“Oh, Keeho! Nice to meet you!” Seungkwan interrupts, his tone dripping with faux enthusiasm. “So, you’re the brave soul who decided to take Y/N out on a date. You must have some serious courage.” He looks at you, feigning concern. “Are you sure you’re ready for her? She’s a handful, you know.”
Keeho raises an eyebrow, amusement battling with confusion. “I’m up for a challenge,” he replies, a smirk tugging at his lips as he glances between you and Seungkwan.
You can feel your cheeks warming, mortified at Seungkwan’s antics. “It’s really not—”
“Oh, but it is!” Seungkwan cuts you off again, leaning closer to Keeho. “Just last week, she convinced me to join her for a book club, and it was a disaster! I’m telling you, she had me reading some really intense romance novel.” He chuckles, but his eyes sparkle with mischief. “Let me tell you, that kind of emotional rollercoaster is not for the faint of heart.”
Keeho laughs, glancing at you with a playful glint in his eye. “Sounds like you have some strong opinions about romance, Y/N.”
“Okay, but I liked that book!” you protest, feeling the urge to defend your taste. “And it’s not my fault Seungkwan has no sense of romance!”
Seungkwan feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart. “I am a romantic! I just happen to be very selective about my literature. Besides, I didn’t think I’d need to give a warning to your date. Guess I was wrong!”
The two of them continue bantering, Keeho managing to hold his own, but you sense the dynamic shift. Each playful jab from Seungkwan feels like it’s chipping away at the ease of the moment. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Seungkwan leans back with an exaggerated sigh.
“Well, I’ve done my duty here,” he announces, clearly satisfied with the chaos he’d stirred up. “Just wanted to make sure Keeho knows what he’s getting into. You know, if things don’t work out, I’m still single and ready to mingle!” He winks at you, a smug smile plastered on his face.
You roll your eyes, watching him leave, but deep down, you’re more entertained than you want to admit. Just as he reaches the door, he turns back, giving you one last wink and whispering, “Call me when you’re done with this guy, yeah?”
As he walks out, you lean your head in your hands, half-laughing, half-sighing. “I’m so sorry about that,” you say to Keeho, who is still chuckling at the spectacle.
“I mean, he’s entertaining, I’ll give him that,” Keeho says, shaking his head. “But is he always like that?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” you admit, the humor of the situation beginning to sink in. “But he means well.”
Keeho smiles, his eyes warm. “Well, if he’s the worst I have to deal with, I think I can handle it. Let’s just get back to our coffee and forget about the chaos, okay?”
You nod, relieved, and try to refocus on your conversation. But as you chat about your favorite books, you can’t shake the feeling that Seungkwan has left a lingering awkwardness in the air. Sure enough, as the date progresses, you notice that Keeho is distracted, occasionally glancing toward the door as if waiting for Seungkwan to return.
After a few more minutes of stilted conversation, you decide to lighten the mood. “So, what’s your favorite genre? Maybe we can find a book to recommend to each other?”
Keeho shrugs, a slight frown on his face. “Honestly? I’m more of a sci-fi guy. I guess romance isn’t really my thing.”
You feel a small twinge of disappointment but try to brush it off. “That’s okay! Everyone has different tastes. I really enjoy a good sci-fi too.”
As the conversation drifts back and forth, you both struggle to find common ground. You notice Keeho’s smile faltering more often, and he seems less engaged than before. It’s clear that Seungkwan’s surprise entrance has cast a shadow on the date, and the initial chemistry you felt is fading.
By the end of the hour, as you both finish your drinks, Keeho’s attention drifts to his phone. “Hey, I should probably get going. I have a few things to take care of at home,” he says, standing up and looking apologetic. “But it was nice meeting you.”
You nod, a hint of disappointment settling in your stomach. “Yeah, nice meeting you too.” You both exchange polite goodbyes, and as you watch him leave, you feel the familiar twinge of frustration. It’s as if fate is determined to keep sabotaging your chances of finding someone.
And deep down, you know Seungkwan will find a way to poke his head into your next date, too.
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1 year, 6 months, 17 days post-pact: 
The sun poured into the little bistro, casting a warm glow over your table as you shared easy laughs and stolen glances with your brunch date. It felt like a scene right out of a movie: the coffee was just strong enough, the food delicious, and the company—Sunghoon, a coworker you’d finally worked up the nerve to get closer to—was even better. You’d reached that perfect point where a little hand-holding across the table felt natural, like something you’d done a hundred times before. And you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this could actually go somewhere.
But just as you’re about to lean in with a smile, it happens.
A voice, unmistakably loud and dripping with exaggerated surprise, rings out. “Oh my god, is that you?”
Your heart sinks, but you turn anyway, because there’s no ignoring Seungkwan, especially when he’s dressed in his brightest pink sweater, standing a few tables over with a grin that could rival the sun. He’s holding a large coffee in one hand, eyebrows raised high in mock surprise.
“Seungkwan,” you say, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Wow, what a coincidence.”
“Oh, it’s not just a coincidence.” With the practiced ease of a performer, he slides into the seat beside Sunghoon, who has gone from looking amused to very, very confused. “Y/N and I go way back, actually. Practically family, really. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” He flashes you a grin, one that’s both infuriating and endearing.
You clench your jaw, trying to suppress the urge to strangle him. “Right. Practically family,” you murmur, hoping Sunghoon isn’t catching the way your fingers have turned white from gripping your napkin too hard.
Seungkwan seems to ignore you, his attention now entirely on Sunghoon, whose eyebrows have slowly started climbing into his hairline. “So,” he continues, his voice loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear, “you’re here with Y/N? Cute choice. I hope you know what you’re getting into. Y/N’s kind of… high maintenance.” He winks at you like he’s just told an inside joke.
Sunghoon chuckles nervously, glancing over at you as if he needs confirmation. You shoot him an apologetic smile, trying to silently convey that, no, this isn’t normal and, yes, you’ll explain later.
“And I mean, Y/N and I?” Seungkwan keeps going, gesturing between the two of you like there’s some deep, mysterious connection. “The chemistry? It’s off the charts.” He taps his head, sighing. “We can practically read each other’s minds, you know?”
By now, Sunhoon is fidgeting, a small smile glued to his face as they look between you and Seungkwan. “Oh, really?” he asks, clearly wondering if he’s missing something monumental. “So you two… you’re not—”
“Oh, no, no,” you say quickly, shooting a glare at Seungkwan, who’s clearly trying not to laugh.
But Seungkwan doesn’t stop there. “Ah, Y/N’s right,” he adds, shrugging. “We’re not together. Yet.” He drags out the word with a smirk, and you can practically hear the gears turning in Sunghoon’s head as he processes the word "yet."
You feel your face heating up, half-tempted to kick him under the table. “Seungkwan, don’t you have somewhere else to be?” you ask, voice tight.
“Hmm, let me think…” He pretends to ponder this, tapping his chin before leaning across the table. “Nope. Nowhere. Besides, isn’t brunch better with a crowd?” He gives Sunghoon a friendly, if slightly unnerving, pat on the shoulder. “You must be so lucky to have Y/N’s attention like this. People are usually lining up for it.”
Sunghoon shifts again, looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. You know Seungkwan can sense it too, his eyes glinting with amusement as he continues his casual interrogation. “So, tell me about yourself,” he says to Sunghoon, putting on his most interested expression, though you know he’s sizing him up with each word.
The back-and-forth goes on, with Seungkwan jumping in to answer Sunghoon’s questions as if he’s your personal biographer. He throws in every childhood story, every embarrassing tidbit he can remember—all exaggerated, of course—until Sunghoon’s head is spinning. The worst part is, it’s so absurd that it’s almost funny, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing as Seungkwan slips in comments like, “Oh, Y/N definitely prefers pineapple on pizza,” or, “Trust me, Y/N’s a total night owl.” As Seungkwan shares “insider secrets” and childhood anecdotes, a strange sensation bubbles up in your chest. It was annoyance, sure, but there was something else there—a soft ache that confused you. Why did he care so much about who you were dating? And why did you feel so strangely relieved that he was here?
Finally, just when you think you can’t take any more, he stands up, clapping his hands together like he’s just wrapped up a grand performance. “Well,” he says, turning to you with a look of smug satisfaction, “if you ever need a brunch buddy who doesn’t skip out on the bill…” He winks. “Call me, yeah?”
He pats Sunghoon on the back as he heads for the door, grinning like he’s just pulled off the prank of the century. “Nice to meet you!” he calls to your date, who’s left sitting in stunned silence as Seungkwan struts out, practically radiating smugness.
When he’s finally gone, Sunghoon lets out a slow breath, shoulders relaxing as they turn to you. “Sooo… that was interesting.”
You let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah… interesting is one word for it.”
He raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face. “So, does he do that a lot?”
“Oh, all the time,” you say with a sigh, though you can’t keep the fond smile off your face. “But hey, he means well. In a very… loud way.”
He chuckles, clearly unsure but still intrigued. “Well, guess I’ll have to stick around and see what other ‘friends’ you have in store.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you lean back in your seat, finally able to relax. In that moment, the chaos of Seungkwan’s interruption almost fades—almost—because part of you knows that with him around, peace and quiet will always be temporary at best.
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2 years post-pact, to the day: 
Seungcheol’s birthday is practically a national holiday among your friend group. Every year, he insists on throwing an over-the-top party, renting out a venue and packing it with everyone he knows (and some people he barely knows). This year is no different. He’s booked a rooftop bar with an incredible view, and the night promises to be one of laughter, loud music, and Seungcheol’s legendary knack for making everyone feel like family.
Of course, as soon as you walked through the doors, Seungkwan had cornered you, teasing you about your outfit, asking if you were sure you wanted to dress up this much for just any party. He’d even given you a once-over with a smirk, as if he could see right through your intentions. You’d brushed him off, but you knew he wasn’t done stirring up trouble.
The party is buzzing with laughter, conversations blending into a symphony of voices, and there you are, casually observing from the edge of the room. You spot Seungkwan in the distance, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed as he talks to a girl who’s completely engrossed in whatever story he’s telling. She’s laughing, touching his arm every now and then, and her eyes are practically twinkling. He’s playing it up too, charming as ever, and for a split second, it almost looks real.
A strange feeling knots in your stomach. It’s not jealousy, you tell yourself, but a weird twinge of something uncomfortable that you can’t quite name. You push the thought aside, focusing instead on the playful banter you’ve always shared with him. But still, you can’t help but feel a flicker of annoyance as the girl giggles, leaning in closer to him, her hand lingering on his arm. Why does it bother you so much?
You shake it off quickly – you know him too well. There’s no way it’s real (right?). Time to have a little fun of your own.
You bide your time, watching for the perfect moment before you make your move. Finally, you spot an opening, and with a quick breath, you slip through the crowd and tap him on the shoulder, putting on your brightest, most endearing smile.
“Hey, honey, sorry I’m late!” You say, practically singing the words as you slide an arm around his waist.
Seungkwan’s body tenses immediately, and when he turns to look at you, his eyes are wide with a mix of surprise and warning. Don’t you dare, his gaze practically screams, but you just tighten your grip, patting his side for emphasis.
“Oh… um, hi,” he stammers, clearly caught off guard, trying to maintain his composure as he looks back at the girl.
You flash her a warm, overly friendly smile, as if you’re just so glad to meet her. “So sorry to interrupt! He promised we’d catch up tonight, you know, since we’re…” you pause, feigning a thoughtful look as you glance up at Seungkwan, “what did you say the other day? Practically inseparable?”
The girl’s confident smile falters, her gaze shifting between you and Seungkwan, her expression growing more uncertain by the second. You can feel Seungkwan’s silent plea for mercy, but you keep going, leaning into him a bit more.
“Oh, and did he tell you about our little pact?” you add, raising your eyebrows with a playful grin as you look back at him. You feel his muscles tense under your arm, his cheeks beginning to glow a telltale shade of pink.
“Pact?” She asks, eyebrows knitting in confusion as she looks at Seungkwan, who’s now fidgeting slightly, glancing around as if looking for an escape.
“Yes, we’ve had it forever,” you say with a wistful sigh, clutching his arm as if this is the most romantic thing in the world. “You know, just in case we’re both… single. Isn’t that right, darling?”
The girl’s smile drops completely, and her mouth opens just a bit, as if she’s about to ask for clarification, but she seems to think better of it. Her cheeks flush as she glances at Seungkwan, now visibly flustered and clearing his throat, his eyes darting everywhere except toward either of you.
“Um, I… I should find my friends,” she mutters, shooting him one last look before quickly turning on her heel and slipping away into the crowd.
As soon as she’s out of sight, you can’t help but smirk, glancing up at Seungkwan’s astonished expression. Leaning up, you plant a quick peck on his cheek before stepping back, watching as he turns to you, looking thoroughly scandalized.
“Are you serious right now?” He hisses, though his lips are twitching, betraying the hint of a laugh he’s trying to hold back.
“Oh, come on, you had it coming,” you reply with a wicked smile. “After the whole pineapple on pizza stunt? I’d say that’s one for me.”
He shakes his head, laughing softly as he runs a hand through his hair, his pink cheeks now joined by a glimmer of genuine amusement. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, but there’s a light in his eyes that tells you he’s not mad in the slightest.
“Hey, you started this game,” you shrug, giving him a little nudge. “I’m just playing to win.”
Seungkwan lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes as he glances toward the direction the girl went, then back to you, a begrudging smile breaking through. “Fine, fine. But don’t expect me to go easy on you next time. Speaking of which, what happened to that guy from brunch a few months ago? Sanghyun? Sanghoon?”
“His name is Sunghoon, idiot, and nothing happened. You made sure of that. That’s why I’m here, evening the score,” you retort, crossing your arms with a mock scowl.
Seungkwan raises an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “So you’re telling me I’m your secret weapon now?”
“More like your meddling is a curse,” you say, shaking your head.
He chuckles, the sound light and infectious. “Well, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. Just know, I’m not done with this game yet.”
As the night continues, the laughter and music surround you, but a lingering thought gnaws at the back of your mind. Watching Seungkwan charm his way through conversations, it strikes you how easily he can captivate others, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if there’s a part of him that prefers their attention over yours. You push it away, the pang of unease echoing with the music, reminding you that this is just a party, just a game, but somehow, you can’t shake the feeling of something deeper bubbling just beneath the surface.
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2 years, 4 months, and 9 days post-pact:
This time, it’s dinner at a new trendy restaurant in the nicer end of town. Dinner with Yuta had been going perfectly—a warm, candlelit setting, the faint hum of jazz music, and conversation that felt so easy you were actually starting to think you could see something real with him. He’s charming, you’re feeling all the right butterflies, and he even leans in, smiling as he teases you about the most embarrassing moments you’ve shared from work.
Then, right on cue, a waiter appears at your table, his expression a mix of confusion and apology.
“Miss Y/N?” he asks, glancing between you and Yuta, who’s now watching with mild curiosity. “I was told by a gentleman to deliver this to you with his regards.”
In his arms, he’s holding an enormous bouquet of deep red roses, wrapped in an extravagant silk ribbon that practically glows under the restaurant’s soft lights. Yuta raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a curious smirk.
As soon as you spot the bouquet, a sinking feeling settles in your stomach. You already know exactly what’s coming next.
The waiter hands you the bouquet, and you catch sight of a note nestled among the roses. The cursive writing on the card reads: “Forever yours, my little dumpling. ~ Boo”
“Oh my god…” you murmur, your cheeks flushing as you let out a strained laugh, trying to brush it off. “Um… wow. This is… an inside joke that got a little out of hand.”
Yuta’s eyes sparkle with amusement, but you can tell he’s a little taken aback. “Inside joke, huh? That’s… a lot of roses for a joke.”
“Yeah,” you say, stumbling over your words, “he just… has a sense of humor, you know?”
Before you can think of a more believable explanation, your phone vibrates on the table, the screen lighting up with a text notification. You already have a bad feeling about it.
Picking up your phone, you see a picture text from Seungkwan. He’s standing in front of a florist, grinning mischievously and holding the exact same bouquet that now sits on your table. “Enjoy,” reads the message, punctuated by a devil emoji.
You feel your jaw tighten, your fingers twitching with the urge to throw the phone across the table. But you take a deep breath, glancing at Yuta, who’s watching you with even more intrigue now.
“Let me guess,” he says, clearly trying not to laugh. “That was him?”
“Unfortunately,” you mutter, gritting your teeth in a half-smile. “He’s a… close friend. Very close. Close enough that he thinks things like this are hilarious.”
Yuta chuckles, leaning back in his chair, but there’s a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Is he… an ex or something?”
“Not at all,” you say quickly, cringing as you realize just how absurd the whole situation must look. “He’s just… Seungkwan. This is his idea of fun. Like, sending flowers to a date to ‘make sure I’m being treated well’ or something.” You laugh awkwardly, trying to make light of it, but Yuta’s expression suggests he’s a bit less enchanted now than he was a few minutes ago.
You can almost feel Seungkwan’s satisfaction from across the city, and it only makes you clench the bouquet harder. The playful irritation bubbling inside you suddenly feels like something else—was this jealousy? You push the thought aside. It’s ridiculous. Seungkwan is just your friend. He doesn’t mean anything by it, does he? Yet, the way Yuta’s laughter seems to wane, the way he glances at the bouquet with uncertainty, leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
“Look,” you start, leaning in, “I know this is kind of… bizarre. But it’s not like that. Really, it’s just him trying to mess with me.”
Yuta smiles, but it’s a little strained. “Right, well… I guess I’d better bring my A-game if I’m up against grand gestures like that.”
You sigh, giving him an apologetic smile. “Trust me, if there’s anyone that doesn’t need to compete with Seungkwan, it’s you.”
The conversation moves on, but there’s a noticeable change in Yuta’s demeanor. He glances at the bouquet one too many times, and even as he smiles, there’s a lingering distance that wasn’t there before. You feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you, and it gnaws at you that, in this moment, Seungkwan’s antics are the wedge between you and someone who could be something more.
By the end of the night, he’s still polite, still charming—but the spark feels a little dimmer. Seungkwan’s mission has been accomplished, and as Yuta bids you goodnight, his words are just a little too formal, a little too hesitant, making it painfully clear that he probably won’t be calling again. You should have been devastated. Yuta was the perfect gentleman – but something about a boy with the devious smirk, planning exactly when to have a bouquet of roses delivered, soothed the pain. 
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2 years, 9 months, and 18 days post-pact:
You never thought he’d go this far. Seungkwan, of all people, invited you out on a double date. The plan sounds innocent enough—a cozy dinner for four, just a casual night out. But the second you step into the dimly-lit, deafening restaurant he’s picked, you know he has a hidden agenda. The music’s loud, the lighting’s too low, and the tables are packed so close together you’re practically bumping elbows with strangers.
Settling into your seat, you force a smile as your date, Kevin—a genuinely nice guy with a warm laugh—leans in close, probably the only way he can hear you over the noise. Across the table, Seungkwan’s already chatting up his own date with way too much charm. Every time you try to ask Kevin a question or tell a story, Seungkwan seems to pick that exact moment to raise his voice.
“Oh, did I ever tell you about the time Y/N accidentally confessed to me?” Seungkwan practically shouts, cutting you off mid-sentence.
Kevin freezes, glancing between the two of you with a hesitant smile. “Wait… you guys dated?”
“Oh, no, no,” Seungkwan laughs, waving a hand dismissively, as if the thought is absurd. “Y/N only confesses on accident. Isn’t that right?” He sends you a playful, almost conspiratorial look, as if you’re both in on some inside joke—one that you’re definitely not part of.
You shoot him a glare, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “That was one time, and it was a misunderstanding!” You retort, but the laughter in his eyes makes you feel small. It’s not just annoyance you’re feeling; it’s a mixture of embarrassment and something deeper, a frustrating recognition of how easily he shifts the spotlight onto you.
As the evening progresses, the laughter and clinking of glasses fade into a dull background noise. You try steering the conversation back on track, giving Kevin an apologetic smile, but every time it seems like he’s interested again, Seungkwan throws in a casual remark, making sure no topic gets a chance to really take off.
By the end of the night, Kevin’s enthusiasm has dulled significantly. He gives you a polite, almost strained smile, saying something about “catching you later.” Seungwan’s date is no different. She attempts to give him a hug, but he somehow maneuvers it into the world’s most awkward handshake, and you stifle a giggle into your hand. With a quick wave, she’s gone too, leaving you alone with Seungkwan.
You turn to him, folding your arms as he grins, entirely too pleased with himself. “Why do you look like the cat that swallowed the canary?” You ask, narrowing your eyes.
“Because I had a wonderful evening with you, darling,” he replies, throwing an arm around your shoulders with an exaggerated wink. 
“Do you always ruin dates for fun?” you fire back, trying to mask the mix of frustration and something that feels suspiciously like longing.
He shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What can I say? It’s part of my charm.”
You shove him off, but can’t fully hide the amusement flickering in your eyes. He catches it, his grin widening like he’s won something. For a second, you wonder if this is less sabotage and more of a game he doesn’t want either of you to stop playing.
But as the laughter fades, a heavy silence settles in. The thrill of their playful rivalry leaves you feeling conflicted, tugged in two directions: part of you relishes these moments of banter, while the other is increasingly aware of the emotional chaos underneath it all. You should be angry, but instead, a tiny voice in your head whispers that maybe, just maybe, this game is his way of keeping you close.
“What’s next, Seungkwan? Are you going to plan another ‘double date’ with your other friends just to make sure I never get a moment alone?” You challenge him, half-joking, but your heart races at the thought.
His laughter rings out, but there’s a flicker of something in his gaze, a hint of vulnerability that surprises you. “You know I’d never do that to you… I just like watching you squirm,” he admits, his tone lighter but the sincerity hidden underneath that’s palpable.
Suddenly, the air is thick with unspoken words and emotions, and you feel a strange mix of gratitude and frustration wash over you. Why can’t you just see him as the annoying frenemy he pretends to be? Why does it hurt a little too much to think about how you might actually miss him if he were to stop?
As you both stand to leave, your heart is a tangled mess, caught between the irritation he brings and the inexplicable thrill of having him in your life. He gives you one last playful nudge, and you can’t help but wonder if this rivalry is just a cover for something deeper, something you’re both too stubborn to acknowledge.
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2 years, 11 months, 24 days post-pact: 
After the double date fiasco, a week goes by, and you find yourself dress-shopping with Jeonghan. It's for Seungcheol’s wedding, and naturally, Jeonghan insisted on tagging along to “make sure you don’t show up looking like a bridesmaid nightmare.”
You’re in the dressing room, running your fingers over the delicate lace of the navy blue dress, adjusting the neckline before giving yourself one last glance in the mirror. Jeonghan’s already dismissed five of your previous picks with commentary ranging from “horrific” to “Good luck trying to upstage the bride in that.” But this one feels right. You’re almost nervous to step out, knowing he’s going to have plenty to say.
As you walk out, Jeonghan’s eyes narrow with that same hypercritical gaze he reserves for... well, everything. He circles you slowly, his hand resting gently on your shoulder as he steps back to get a better look, then reaches forward to adjust the strap by your collarbone with a delicate touch. “Hmm,” he muses, tapping his chin theatrically. “That one doesn’t look like it’s trying to be the main character.”
You sigh, unable to hold back a little smile as his hand lingers on your shoulder. “Thanks, I guess?”
“Hey, no, that’s a good thing,” he says, brushing his fingers over your sleeve reassuringly. “It’s got enough class to charm all the moms, and just enough allure to turn a few heads. But you won’t make anyone jealous.”
He grins and pinches your cheek affectionately, like he knows he’s giving the highest possible praise. You swat his hand away, laughing, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that makes your cheeks flush.
“Think Seungcheol will approve?” you ask, spinning around to check the back in the mirror, letting him watch you pretend you’re not grinning.
“Oh, Seungcheol?” Jeonghan gives a faux-surprised raise of his eyebrows and gently nudges your elbow, keeping his tone light. “I think someone else might have a stronger opinion than our blissfully oblivious groom-to-be.”
You look at him, and he just smirks, half-mischievous, half-knowing. “Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter, the lace brushing against your neck as you turn back to the mirror.
“Like what?” he says, leaning his shoulder against yours with exaggerated innocence.
“Like you have any clue what you’re talking about,” you reply, smoothing the fabric of the dress, still avoiding his eyes.
Jeonghan hums thoughtfully, crossing his arms, but you can feel his gaze studying you in the mirror. “Alright, well then, tell me about this little ‘date rivalry’ with Seungkwan that I keep hearing about.”
Your heart skips a beat, and you try to focus on fixing a stray curl rather than looking at him. “It’s nothing, okay? Just a… joke.” You try to laugh it off, though you’re pretty sure he can tell you’re deflecting. “You know, one of those... running gags.”
He snorts and slings his arm over your shoulders casually, squeezing as he leans close to your ear. “Right, because a ‘silly joke’ lasts for, what… three years?”
You elbow him gently, trying to hide your smile. “Two years, eleven months, and twenty-four days,” you correct, giving him a playful nudge. “Not that I’m counting.”
“Oh, of course not,” he says, deadpan, squeezing your shoulder again as he leans in. “Hence all the sabotage and dramatic entrances and flirty messages you two just pretend to brush off.”
You roll your eyes, pulling his arm off your shoulders as you smooth down the fabric of the dress. “It’s really not that deep, Jeonghan. We just... tease each other. Keeps things interesting.”
“Hmm,” he says, draping an arm around your waist this time, like he’s just making himself comfortable. “And all this talk of keeping things ‘interesting’… It’s what? Your foolproof plan to stay single?”
You hesitate, leaning back into his casual embrace as you stare into the mirror, focusing on a barely-there wrinkle in the fabric rather than his too-observant gaze. “We just… keep each other entertained.”
He’s quiet for a second, watching you a little too closely, his chin resting on your shoulder now. “You know, some people choose each other because they’re in love, Y/N.”
You huff a laugh, nudging him off your shoulder but leaning against him a little longer than necessary. “And some people spend too much time meddling in other people’s love lives, Jeonghan.”
“Oh, guilty as charged.” He grins, unbothered, slipping his fingers through yours and giving your hand a quick squeeze. “But unlike you and Seungkwan, I don’t spend three years pretending I don’t have feelings for someone.”
You stare at him, but he’s already shifted his attention back to your outfit, reaching up to tuck a loose piece of hair behind your ear with a gentle touch. “So, who says I’m pretending anything?” you ask, looking down, hoping he doesn’t notice the warmth creeping up your neck.
“Oh, please,” he says softly, his hand lingering at the nape of your neck. “You two sabotage every other date, throw each other’s names into any conversation just to keep the other on your mind, and act like you don’t know what you’re doing. Speaking of which, I was the one who told Seungkwan what restaurant your date was at so he could send you those flowers.”
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you shove him lightly. “You did what?”
He chuckles, clearly amused by your reaction. “What? It’s not like I wanted you to end up with Yuto.”
“Yuta, and thanks for that, really,” you say, trying to keep your tone light despite the flutter of annoyance in your chest. “I thought I was going to have a nice evening.”
“Please, it was a public service,” Jeonghan insists, feigning seriousness. “And it was all part of the ‘evening the score’ strategy.”
You groan, half-amused and half-exasperated. “God, you’re impossible.”
He laughs, the sound light and infectious. “Well, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. Just know, I’m not done with this game yet.”
You swallow, feeling your throat tighten as his hand drops to your shoulder. He squeezes it gently, his touch grounding as you try to ignore the truth in his words. Jeonghan’s seen it all: the way Seungkwan’s messages light up your screen, the not-so-casual dinner invitations, and how every other date just... doesn’t quite measure up.
“So when’s the wedding?” he teases, giving your shoulder a playful shake.
“Oh my God,” you groan, half-smiling as you grab a hanger and whack him gently on the shoulder. “Can we not do this right now? You’re supposed to help me pick a dress, not psychoanalyze my love life.”
Jeonghan raises his hands in surrender, his grin shameless. “Alright, alright. But for the record, the entire group’s got their money on you two.”
Your mouth drops open, half-horrified, half-amused. “Excuse me?”
“Yep. Seungcheol thinks it’ll happen at his wedding. Joshua’s got New Year’s. And I, of course, bet on tonight,” he says, winking.
“Oh, really? You’re just that confident, huh?” you ask, punching his arm softly.
He grabs your hand, pulling it to his chest with an exaggerated sigh. “Come on, admit it. You’re a little curious to see if Seungkwan feels the same way.”
You stare at him, and he looks back with that rare, soft sincerity that makes it impossible to tell him off. His words stay with you, settling like a soft ache in your chest as he tugs you toward the counter to pay for the dress, his arm still draped loosely around your shoulders.
Later that night, as you lie in bed, Jeonghan’s voice echoes in your mind: “A silly joke doesn’t last three years, Y/N.” You reach for your phone, the screen casting a soft glow as you scroll through your texts with Seungkwan. Before you know it, you’ve typed out, Why do you keep doing this?
The message sends, and your heart hammers in the quiet as you wait. The response is almost immediate.
Because I know those guys aren’t right for you.
A smile pulls at the corners of your mouth as you type back, And who is?
This time, the pause is longer, and you can almost picture him hesitating. Then, his reply lights up the screen:
Maybe someone who’ll crash every date just to see you smile.
You toss your phone aside, pulling the covers up over your head, fighting a grin that’s nearly impossible to contain. Because maybe, just maybe, Jeonghan’s meddling isn’t so misguided after all.
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3 years, 1 month, 11 days post-pact:
The night is warm, a faint breeze carrying the scent of roses and lavender through the garden. Twinkle lights strung above cast a soft glow over the reception area, while the hum of laughter and clinking glasses fills the air as guests flow between the tables and the dance floor. It’s the perfect evening for a wedding—Seungcheol's wedding, of all people, the friend who used to swear up and down that he’d never get tied down. The ceremony had been beautiful, of course, filled with tender vows and stolen glances, the kind of moments that only make the ache in your chest a little sharper. It’s the kind of night made for weddings—the sky deepening to a dusky navy color not unlike the rich blue of your dress, soft to the touch and fitted just right, brushing the tops of your heels.
As you catch glimpses of friends in the crowd, your gaze lands on Seungkwan, who stands just beyond the garden’s edge. The fairy lights soften his outline, illuminating his black suit—perfectly tailored to his frame—and his navy tie, which, oddly enough, matches your dress exactly. The thought comes with a smirk. Jeonghan had said nothing, but you know he had something to do with this.
“Oh hey,” he says, voice warm with that little hint of sarcasm that’s so him. “Didn’t expect you to be sneaking up on me like that. What happened—already bored with your dance partner?”
Rolling your eyes, you return his smile. “Hardly. I just needed a break. It’s like, the second you make eye contact with someone, they’re convinced you’re interested.”
He nods knowingly. “Trust me, I know the feeling.” For a moment, he glances back at the party, and you both lapse into comfortable silence, letting the hum of music and laughter fill the space between you. But when he looks back, there’s something softer, almost vulnerable in his expression.
“So here we are,” he murmurs, crossing his arms, “just the two of us again, while everyone else is off being sentimental.”
Something in his tone makes you pause. It’s rare to see him peel back the layers of playful banter, but there’s a weight in his words that has your heart pounding a little faster.
“What, is being single at a wedding getting to you?” you tease, trying to keep things light, but his answering look is serious, his eyes narrowing just slightly.
“Oh, please,” he says, shaking his head with a slight huff. “But… I can’t lie; that pact of ours has been on my mind.”
The “if we’re both single at thirty, let’s get married” pact. A joke you’d made years ago, on a night not so different from this one, laughing over the idea of “settling” if neither of you found someone by then. You raise an eyebrow, voice softening. “That was just a joke, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he replies, but his voice is softer, almost wistful, and he looks down at his hands. "It was a joke."
Your breath catches, feeling an ache that’s both familiar and new, the words between you now feeling a little too real. You’re about to say something when Jeonghan’s voice interrupts, calling your name from across the garden. He’s grinning, waving you both over.
"Hey!" he calls, all too cheerfully. "Are you coming to join the dance floor or just hiding in the shadows?"
Seungkwan groans, rolling his eyes. “Looks like my break’s over,” he mutters, but there’s a reluctant smile there as he lets Jeonghan drag you both toward the dance floor.
A new song starts, slower than the upbeat tracks that played earlier, and suddenly, everyone around you is pairing off. Before you know it, Jeonghan has nudged Seungkwan into place in front of you, giving him a wink as he steps back. The faintest pink dusts Seungkwan’s cheeks, but he recovers quickly, giving you a playful smirk as he offers you his hand.
“Guess you’re stuck with me now,” he murmurs as you take his hand, his touch warm as he pulls you closer. The scent of his cologne wraps around you, subtle yet comforting, and his hand on your waist grounds you as the two of you sway under the twinkle lights.
It’s maddening, how close he is, how his gaze holds yours with a quiet intensity that feels like it’s about to crack through years of careful friendship. For a moment, the world around you fades, leaving only the warmth of his hand, the navy blue of his tie, the slow rhythm of the music, and the unspoken words hanging between you.
But just as quickly, Seungkwan clears his throat, breaking the spell as he takes a step back, glancing away. “I should… um, I should probably go help Jeonghan with…” His voice trails off as he disappears into the crowd.
You stand there, heart racing, feeling the weight of what was left unfinished. Jeonghan appears at your side, giving you a knowing smile.
“Go after him,” he says, nudging you with a grin. "Trust me, it’s time.”
With a deep breath, you weave through the clusters of guests, catching sight of Seungkwan just past the garden’s edge, leaning against a tree, looking out into the night. 
As you approach, he turns, eyes widening just slightly before he speaks. “Oh. You’re here.” There’s a vulnerability about him that takes you by surprise.
“Yeah. Still… need a break,” you reply, barely above a whisper, and there’s a pause as he searches your gaze, something soft and hopeful flickering in his eyes.
“Seungkwan, I-” you start, voice shaking just a bit. He chuckles, shaking his head, but there’s no humor in it. 
“Don’t say anything you don’t mean right now, Y/N,” he warns, voice low. You swallow hard, the weight of his words settling over you like the warm, heavy night air. Behind you, the music fades as guests migrate to the bar, the hum of conversation filling the garden. But here, in this quiet corner under the fairy lights, it feels like you’re the only two people in the world.
“Why?” you ask, feeling your cheeks warm. “Do you have something you need to tell me?”
He pauses, glancing down at the ground and taking a deep breath, his fingers flexing at his sides as though he’s gathering courage. When he looks back up, there’s something vulnerable in his gaze, raw and unguarded in a way you’ve never seen before. “I’m saying that maybe, just maybe, I’ve wanted this all along.”
His confession hits you like a wave, a rush of emotion you weren’t prepared for. Memories flood back—those lingering glances, nights spent sabotaging each other’s dates, and playful jabs that always seemed to hit a little too close to the heart.
You manage a shaky breath, words tumbling out before you can stop them. “You’re not… just saying this because of the open bar, are you?”
He laughs, a soft sound that cuts through the tension, and steps a little closer, his hand brushing yours. The slight contact is electric, sending a thrill through you. “I’ve had plenty of chances to back out of that pact,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a near whisper. “But I didn’t want to. Because I kept hoping… that maybe it wasn’t just a joke to you, either.”
For a moment, time seems to stop. The music, the laughter, the soft glow of the lights—all of it fades until there’s only him, his face inches from yours, his hand hovering near your waist. His touch is gentle, yet electric, barely there, but enough to make your heart race and a thrill skitter down your spine. You can see the way his eyes search yours, a mix of vulnerability and desire reflected in their depths.
“Well, if we’re being honest… maybe I’ve been waiting for you, too,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly as the words slip free. The admission feels like a weight lifting, revealing the truth you’ve both danced around for far too long.
He lets out a breath, almost a sigh of relief, and pulls you a fraction closer, his hand settling firmly at your waist, warm and steady. The world around you blurs into a hazy backdrop, and all that matters is the heat radiating from his body, the way his thumb strokes your side, sending warmth pooling low in your belly. His smile is soft, just for you, a detail that makes your pulse quicken. Damn Jeonghan.
“Fucking finally,” he whispers, his voice low and inviting, igniting a fire deep within you. He leans in, closing the space between your lips, the anticipation crackling in the air like static electricity. His breath mingles with yours, warm and tantalizing, and in that moment, it feels as if the entire universe has tilted just for the two of you.
Then his lips meet yours in a kiss that’s as warm and gentle as the night around you. It’s soft, exploratory, as if he’s afraid to rush and scare you off, yet there’s a warmth that ignites between you, a spark that feels both thrilling and reassuring. The kiss deepens, his lips moving against yours with a sweet urgency, a rhythm that feels instinctive.
You can taste the hint of mint on his breath, the lingering flavor of a cocktail from earlier in the evening, and it mingles with the scent of his cologne—a heady blend that makes your senses spin. As his fingers slide further down to the small of your back, pulling you closer, it’s like everything has led up to this one perfect, terrifying moment. 
He groans against your lips, and it makes your breath catch. “Three years,” he whispers, nipping at your bottom lip until you melt against him with a sigh, “I’ve waited three years to do this.” 
You pull him closer by his tie. “Then shut up and kiss me more, Boo.” 
He obliges with glee, running his hands up the buttons of your dress until you shiver. With each soft sigh that escapes you, you can feel the warmth pooling deeper, a delicious tension that makes the air around you crackle. The kiss ignites something primal between you, a yearning that has been simmering just beneath the surface, and every part of you is alive with the sensation of him. It feels as if the whole world has faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in this moment—breathless, hearts racing, and tangled in each other.
When you finally pull apart, breathless and wide-eyed, the sounds of the wedding rush back in, laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. But all you can focus on is him, the way his gaze holds yours, sparkling with a mix of surprise and delight, as if he can’t believe what just happened.
For a second, you just stare at each other. 
“Wow,” he breathes, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t know we were doing that tonight.”
You can’t help but grin back, the thrill of the moment still coursing through you. “I guess we both had a little waiting to do,” you tease, a soft challenge in your voice, and you can see the spark of mischief in his eyes as he steps closer, closing the distance once more.
As he steps closer, the air between you crackles with electricity. “You know,” he murmurs, hands tickling your waist, fingers brushing just enough to send delightful shivers down your spine, “we should do that again. For science.”
“For science?” you echo, trying to sound serious but failing as a laugh escapes you.
“Absolutely,” he insists, leaning in slightly, his breath warm and inviting. The moment feels suspended in time, as if nothing else exists but the two of you and this playful game you’ve begun.
You pull back just enough to look into his eyes, the mischief swirling there igniting a flutter in your chest. “So, how many trials do you think we should run? Five? Ten?”
He leans in, his forehead nearly brushing against yours, a teasing grin still plastered on his face. His hands find your waist again, this time holding you a little tighter, his fingers warm against your skin, and you feel your heart race in anticipation.
“Maybe we should just keep going until we know for sure,” you suggest, your voice barely a whisper, laden with both challenge and excitement.
“Now that’s the spirit,” he replies, and before you can react, he swoops in, capturing your lips with his once more. This kiss is bolder, filled with laughter and the thrill of newfound freedom, as though you’ve crossed a line into something deeper and more exhilarating together.
As you pull away, breathless and grinning like giddy schoolchildren, you hear Jeonghan’s voice from behind you. “Oi! This is a WEDDING!”
You turn to find Jeonghan approaching with a playful pout, arms crossed over his chest. “I can’t believe you two actually went for it!” He shakes his head, mock-serious. “Seungcheol! You officially win the bet. You said they’d get together at your wedding, and look at this!”
Seungkwan’s hold on you tightens slightly, an instinctive response to the sudden attention. He leans closer, his warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket, and you can feel a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanor, contrasting with his earlier bravado. You exchange sheepish glances, cheeks flushed with embarrassment under Jeonghan’s teasing gaze.
“I can’t believe Jeonghan was right,” Seungkwan mutters, still smiling but now a little bashful, as he nudges you playfully, fingers lingering at your waist as if he’s reluctant to let go.
Jeonghan feigns indignation, throwing his hands up dramatically. “This is unfair! You get a bride AND you win the bet on the same day? What kind of luck is that?”
“Guess you’ll have to deal with it,” Seungcheol says with a laugh, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his new bride’s cheek. She preens with attention, and it makes you lean a little closer to Seungkwan. 
You let Jeonghan pout, turning back to Seungkwan with a grin. 
“Guess this means I don’t have to keep sabotaging you anymore?” he teases, his hands still resting on your waist.
You laugh, swatting his shoulder playfully. “Oh, no way. I think you’re stuck with me now, Boo Seungkwan. We’ll find a new game to play.”
“Here’s to our next game, then,” Seungkwan declares, raising an imaginary glass. “No more hearts; I’m thinking something more… hands-on.”
Jeonghan pretends to puke, and it makes you laugh that much harder. As you glance around the wedding venue, laughter and celebration filling the air, it dawns on you how different this moment is from where it all began. The pact you had with Seungkwan was never about waiting. It was about finding your way to each other all along.
188 notes · View notes
exhaslo · 10 months ago
Note
Can you do like a God Miguel and devil fem reader, this is my first request so please no hate 😭 Oh yeah AND SMUTTTTT
That man is basically a God, haha. Usually I see this request the opposite way, so this is going to be so much fun!
Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, teasing, taunting, handsy, oral sex (m receiving), riding, rough sex, dirty talk, doggy style, creampie
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"C'mon, Big Boy. Afraid to show a lil ol' devil like me what a taste of Heaven looks like?"
This was a sight to behold. No one had ever dared to question or even go against Miguel's ruling. There was a reason why the two dimensions were split between Heaven and Hell. There were a whole list of reasons.
One of them, being devils like you.
You gave a wicked smile towards Miguel, the God of Heaven himself, the ruler of all Angels. Hell, the very man whom separated the Angels and Devils. He was one who controlled all. One who could change the course of fate itself.
"What's a Sinner like me to do in order to enter your pearly white gates of Heaven?" You cooed, getting on your knees.
"You have already made your choices in life. You must live with the consequences of your actions." Miguel spoke.
You gave a pout, pressing your lower lip out while pressing your breasts together.
"But, it wasn't all my fault! I'm here to confess my sins and do right. Please, give me a chance? Isn't that what Angels do? Give second chances?" You begged.
Miguel grunted lowly as he shooed his Angels away. They had started to whisper amongst themselves because sadly, you were right. Miguel disliked it when a devil would sway the good hearted with cruel twists of truth.
"You wish to be redeemed? How do you plan on doing so?" Miguel asked. You bit your lower lip, finding his scowl hot,
"I'll do anything."
-------
Miguel sure had you work your way into heaven. As God, he personally oversaw your progress. Every human you helped; everyone good deed you did; everything was in his sight.
Even your advances. You were sly as you did your job. Poking your ass out slightly; accidently having a tit pop out; hell even using the old lollipop trick. You were doing whatever it took to try and sway Miguel in your favor.
"Hm, excellent work. Perhaps I just might consider your arrival into heaven after a few thousand more good deeds." Miguel hummed. You felt your eye twitch,
"Thousand? Isn't there anything more..." You slid your hand down Miguel's chest, "Intense I could do?"
"Have you forgotten who I am?"
"I haven't," You whispered in his ear, slowly lowering your tank top, "I know that you rule over everything. You see everything while no one can see you. You poor stressed God."
"I'm not stressed." Miguel huffed as he glanced around the human world, "I know what you've really been after this whole time."
"Hm? You have?" You cooed, "Then why entertain me?"
"Because even a God gets bored."
In the next second, both you and Miguel were in what looked like a human hotel room. A smile curled upon your lips as you spread your legs on the bed, slowly removing your top. You gave Miguel a seductive look, motioning him over,
"So bored that you'll entertain a devil?" Miguel scoffed,
"So bored that one might say I am stressed." He tried to change the topic, but sighed, "Sometimes even I grow jealous of how easily humans find pleasure."
You raised a brow, your smile growing wider. You sat up, reaching for Miguel. Your hands stroking down his chest as you threw your top across the room.
"Allow me to give you a show then?" You whispered.
Swapping places with Miguel, you proceeded to give him a little lap dance. As you moved your ass against his crotch, you started to take your bra off. For a God like him to entertain a devil like you, oh this was going to be good.
You nibbled against his ear as you took off you pants, revealing no underwear. A chuckle escaped your lips as you glanced down towards Miguel's erection.
"Hm, does mini God wanna play?" You cooed.
"Perhaps I could show you what heaven tastes like after all." Miguel played along.
Oh, that made you wet. You hands were all over Miguel now. You just had to strip him, but slowly. You cute little devil tail twirled as you started to grind against Miguel's white robes. You stroked his face, watching his temptation grow,
"Shall I do all the work?" You whispered. Miguel just smirked,
"Weren't you the one who needed to get into heaven?"
You huffed as you removed his robes. Eyes widening at the sight of his dick. He wasn't a God for nothing. With a lick of your lips, you got on your knees and started to work your magic. You had good deeds to do after all.
"How many deeds if I make you cum?" You hummed with a lick of his tip.
"A hundred."
"Oh? Then I'll have my work cut out."
"It's a good thing stamina doesn't exist for me." Miguel said with a smirk, which made you quiver.
Ignoring that thought for now, you returned to stroking and sucking Miguel's dick. Of course God doesn't have stamina. Even devils and angels had it. Well, at least you were trying to earn his forgiveness and not the other way around.
You moaned lowly as you started to take Miguel deeper. His dick was thick and long. Just the thought of him ravishing you was making you horny. Not to mention the sounds of his grunts was delicious. If only you were a succubus, this would make a fine meal.
"Still waiting to be impressed." Miguel teased.
You felt your eye twitch as you kept sucking. What more did he want? Gasping, you felt his hands on your head as he started to thrust into your mouth. Tears started to form as you tried to breathe through you nose.
"Here's your first hundred." Miguel groaned.
You nearly gagged as Miguel cummed inside your mouth. Moving away, you swallowed what you could, but coughed up the rest. There was so much. Wiping your mouth, you glanced at his still harden erection and chuckled,
"If that's the case, then this will be easy."
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"Are you giving up already? What a poor little slutty devil you are." Miguel mocked as you bounced on his cock.
You were drooling as you rode Miguel. His dick fit so nicely inside you, stretching all your walls as you fucked him. His tip hit the far back of your cervix, making you really see heaven in a different light. You had only fucked him for a few minutes and you felt like giving in.
"Is this all Hell has to offer?" Miguel asked. You flinched, feeling yourself about to cum again,
"N-No...J-Just....so...ah~" You whined, jumping down once more only to cum.
"This is why you need my help."
Miguel held your waist and started to thrust up inside you, causing you to moan and squirm. His dick was too much. He was hitting you in all the right places. Gripping your hips, Miguel watched your tits bounce as he fucked you from below.
"Tsk, tsk, this poor little devil wants forgiveness right?"
"Y-Yesh~"
"I'll give it to you. One load at a time."
You shuddered towards his words as he released a heavy load inside you. Gasping, you felt Miguel press you against the bed, entering you from behind. His grip was still tight as he started to pound your pussy.
"Such lewd sounds you're making. Does my dick feel that good?"
"Ah~ Ah~ Y-Yes!" You cried out, gripping the bedsheets. Miguel chuckled, listening to the sound of his dick slapping into you,
"Can you feel my holy presence inside you? Is this the taste of heaven you wanted so much?"
"Ah~ Mhm~"
You couldn't think. You felt your eyes roll back as you focused on Miguel pounding you. His hot cum just begging to spill before his next load. This was truly paradise.
"So cock drunk that you can't even think. What a slutty devil you are." Miguel hummed, feeling you cum around him, "But you are doing the best deed there is."
"Mhm!" You gasped as Miguel slapped into your gummy walls faster,
"Keep coming to me for your forgiveness and I'll happily give it to your horny pussy." He groaned, cumming once more, "How does that sound?"
"Ah~ Y-Yes~ Yes~" You moaned loudly.
Miguel just chuckled in response, turning you over. You were out of breathe and fucked out. Miguel glanced at your body, watching your devil wings disappear since you had no energy. Another chuckle escaped his lips as he watched his cum leak out of you,
"Don't suppose you want to start a new race? I have unless stamina after all."
You had a long road of forgiveness ahead of you, but you weren't complaining in the slightest.
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I CAN FEEL THE JUDGEMENT FROM ABOVE, BUT WE ALL KNOW I'M GOING DOWN! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!
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kaisaerinlover · 2 months ago
Text
michael kaiser
married life
tw: toxic relationship, abusive
you and your (not so) beloved michael kaiser finally decided to tie the knot. well, he decided, and you obliged. because what else are you supposed to do? you wouldn’t ever betray him, everything he wants is what you want too. he has you so well trained, doesn’t he? you went along with it because of how docile you are, how you’re basically putty in his hands. but you also had your own selfish reasoning, but you aren’t ready to admit that to yourself yet. no, you hoped that if you became his wife, maybe, just maybe, the tenderness he sometimes showed would be more common, the nosebleeds he bestowed upon you with his cruel fists would subside, the gentle nature he has somewhere inside of him would come out more often.
unfortunately for you, that’s not how michael kaiser works. and i think you know that too, don’t you? so why do you keep up the hope? you’re a true masochist, and he’s a true sadist. a very dangerous pair. dangerous for you, the one who subjects yourself to kaiser’s brutality willingly (it seems that way these days).
don’t get him wrong, kaiser yearns for love, yearns to be loved, yearns for you to keep on loving him ‘till the very end. and he knows you will, because you don’t have any other choice. michael kaiser is truly a master of his craft, a skilled manipulator and a very intelligent man. and now that you’re his wife, things really became a whole lot easier for him. he knows he has it drilled into your pretty little head that the only thing good for you in this world is him. him, him, him, him, him. pleasing him. loving him. being with him. being so sweet to him after he’s so mean to you.
he loves you and you love him. so why does the love he feels for his cute wife manifest in the most atrocious of ways? you know, he’s always making dumb excuses for why he’s this way. he thought if he was loved he would stop, then he thought if he got a girlfriend he would stop, then he thought that if he married you he would be able to stop too. he’s ran out of excuses now. he’s fucked up, all that psychology he’s polished up on throughout his life, all those books on human traumas and emotions, they should have made him realise what he really needs is the drive to change and a therapist a million times better than the average one. but he’s a little ignorant too, in that sense. or he was, he realises it sometimes, but he ignores it.
and besides, he’s not exactly one to complain about the arrangement you guys have. especially after marriage. you became so much more perfect, he didn’t even know it was possible. you’re the perfect, doting little housewife. and you’re all for him too, so cute, so docile. you like it too, but kaiser made you. you’re a little too stupid, a little too trusting and a lot too in love with kaiser to realise it. if you were just a little bit more intelligent than the girl he first met, he’s sure you would have realised something was seriously up by now. but it’s fine, ‘cause wits were never your strong point, nope, your sweet obedient nature was. and kaiser likes that.
you’re a great housewife. and he’s a great husband, you think. you’re in the kitchen, cleaning up, wearing a sweet little outfit kaiser bought for you. he’s so generous, he doesn’t have to spend money on you, yet he does. isn’t he just the best? so expensive too, he spends his hard earned money on you? isn’t your husband seriously just the best? you’re dressed in a cute vintage style dress, hair tied up into a cute ribbon and a cute pair of slippers and socks to go with it. haha, you don’t even realise it, but you’re playing right into kaiser’s weird fantasy. he always had a thing for housewives, everything. so now he has you dressed as one cleaning the kitchen whilst he’s hard at work. maybe he’s so obsessed with this dynamic because he never had it himself, his mother packed up and left as soon as he was born, of course. and his dad was an abusive sack of shit. fucking bitches. pieces of shit. ah, he’s getting worked up. he shakes off that feeling.
today, he tried to release as much of that pent up rage into the match. and he won, as always. he’s the emperor of the world. he wanted to get out all of his anger, because what he wants more than anything today is to be a normal couple with you. but that’s not going to happen, it never does.
he walks in, “where is mein engel, hm?” he stands waiting at the door, waiting for you to come greet him like you always do. after getting married you established this new routine. and you do come, you come so quickly to him and stand on your tip toes to kiss his cheek oh so lightly. “micha, i missed you sooo much” you bat your eyelashes at him. he has you trained so well, it’s impressive. you’re like some cute puppy, you’re actually incredibly well trained. he thinks he should indulge in this idea some time, he just likes any scenario where you’re completely submitting to him. but he shakes that thought off, he won’t get distracted for too long.
he wraps his arm around your waist and walks you to the couch, where he sits down and you stand in front of him, between his legs, looking down at him so innocently. you’re confused, maybe you’re not as well trained as he thought, because you sure don’t know what he wants right now. maybe a glass of wine? you go over to the wine cabinet and pull out a glass and pour in some wine.
kaiser is waiting impatiently, he trained you properly, didn’t he? so why the fuck aren’t you going along with what he wants. god, it’s pissing him off. he sees you walk away, ah, maybe you’re finally going to cook dinner as he wants. he picks up the tv remote and turns it to the bltv channel, today will be perfect, he’s going to simply sit with you, watch some soccer and then eat some nice homemad-
and there you are, standing in front of him looking oh so innocent holding out a glass of wine to him. are you fucking serious? you’re kidding right? you’re definitely doing this on purpose, don’t look so innocent. you’re just trying to piss him off, aren’t you? you fucking bitch. “what is this?” he asks you. he’s angry, but he’s being eerily calm. “wine, i thought you wanted a glass?” are you being dumb on purpose? no, you definitely did this to anger him, didn’t you? ah, he’s so mad now. “and why would i want a glass of wine, after such a long day of playing. wouldn’t i want a meal, hm? dumb girl” he patronises you. and you feel so small. “
but you do something unprecedented, something you haven’t ever done before… you have a… reply? you actually talk back? “y-yeah but how can i know what you want-“ enough. he’s even angrier now. why the fuck are you talking back to him instead of bowing and doing what he told you to do. you retarded whore. what the fuck? all that calmness is gone, he’s gritting his teeth.
poor you, you thought you could reason with him before he got mad, he seemed so calm. stupid, naïve you. you thought he wasn’t mad and now you’ll pay the price.
he knocks the glass out of your hand, the glass shatters everywhere, cutting your hand slightly. the wine pours on you, staining you red. and if that wasn’t bad enough, his fist hits you square in the nose. the pain doesn’t even register until you feel the first drops of blood, and then see them on that cute dress kaiser bought for you just days before. he’s towering above you, staring you down. you messed up, didn’t you? “you don’t talk back to me. ever. i didn’t teach you that. next time, keep your pretty mouth shut. you fucking bitch. did you forget your manners? that’s not how a girl like you should be acting. should i just find a new girl, hm?” he’s holding your throat with his tattooed hand. find a new girl????? no, don’t do that micha!!!! don’t do that to you, you didn’t mean to. but now you’re even doubting that, you definitely meant to. you just didn’t realise it. or something like that… it’s your fault.
he slightly releases the hold on your neck to let you talk, you have a chance to make things up with your words. a very slim chance. because he probably won’t care about what you have to say, whether it’s an apology or not. but he’s letting you talk, so use the opportunity before you get a black eye next too. “i-i’m sorry. i’m really incompetent” you don’t even make any attempt to grab his hands off of your throat, or even wipe up the blood streaming down your pretty lips. “i’ll not mess up again micha, i promise.”
your blood is covering part of his tattoo now too, he notices it and withdraws his hand, and laps up the blood. he always had an affinity for your blood, you taste so sweet. he likes tasting the hurt he’s caused you. it’s fulfilling, this is how he likes living. he loves hurting you, he doesn’t like admitting it often though, ironic for a monster like him. for some reason, that anger subsides. he’s not as mad anymore. maybe he’s going to apologise to you? you’re actually kind of hopeful for that, the small, rational part of you that knows it wasn’t your fault. but that part perishes as quickly as it was lit up. he ruffles your hair with his other hand and wipes the rest of the blood his tongue couldn’t quite clear up onto your rosy cheek. “it’s fine, don’t mess up again, ‘kay? i was nice this time, wasn’t i? you’ve had worse from me before. don’t take my mercy for granted, prinzessin.”
you’re so lucky for getting that mercy, thanks kaiser, isn’t he just so nice? you don’t even know how he managed to forgive you for such a horrible mistake. you’re a shitty wife, thank god your husband is so nice. and, ah, that dress, the one kaiser generously bought for you, it’s all ruined. all stained in the wine and blood. you ruined the dress with your incompetence. you messed everything up, god, why did he even marry you? you’re so stupid, and good for nothing.
he can tell what you’re thinking, he feels a little bad, but he’d rather you beat yourself up over it than him. it’s easier that way anyway. he pats your head again. “poor little thing, all bloodied up because of her own stupidity.” he chastises, and you look down in shame. he’s right, you’re so stupid. “let’s go get you cleaned up, little häschen.” and he does, he leads you to the bathroom sink, sits you on the side, and cleans the blood from you. he almost flinches at the newformed bend in your nose, and the bruise which just seems to be getting darker and changing between shades of nasty blues and purples every second. yikes, he forgets how delicate you are compared to him sometimes.
all you can think about is how generous he is, he hasn’t even changed out of his jersey yet. that’s how nice he is. and he’s bandaging you up too, a cute bandage to hide that hideous bruise. he wants to hide your mistake for you? that’s even sweeter, he doesn’t want you to look in the mirror and feel bad for it, right? that’s what he’s doing right? your husband really is the best.
and that night, you make up for your mistake. you serve him his favourite bread crust rusk, and a nice glass of water. get him changed into his robe. tie up his hair. give him blue-red glasses so he doesn’t hurt his eyes. you pamper him, ‘cause that’s what he deserves. you pamper him whilst ignoring that banging headache from the brutal assault on your nose. and the bruise on your neck. and arms. and legs. all from past outbursts of his. you tend to him and treat him like a king even though you’re so injured, but you’re too brainwashed by your husband, too eager to be the perfect housewife so he doesn’t leave you, and you end up ignoring all of this.
kaiser knows what you’re thinking, predictable little thing. he thinks you’re real stupid. he’s the one that should be scared of you leaving, he couldn’t ever find anyone better than you, anyone more willing. you’re perfect. but he won’t tell you that. he won’t give you an ego. keep being scared of being left alone, so that every second you spend with him you’re even more grateful. he’s scared too, but he’s confident most of the time you’re going to stay. he feels a little guilty for everything right now, ah, it’s one of those times. the weight of his actions presses heavy on him, but instead of taking it out on you again, he just pulls you next to him, opens his robe and drapes one side over you, feeds you a spoonful of your home cooked rusk and pinches your cheek affectionately.
“good girl, schatzi. so good. i love you. du gehörst für immer mir.” he nibbles at your ear a little.
and you just sit and blush. “i-i love you t-too micha, ‘s much.”
you’re the luckiest wife in the world, thank gosh your husband is so willing to put up with your incompetence and stupidity. being a wife is so great. you lean your head against his shoulder, and whilst you’re being so tender with each other, you can forget about all your physical pains caused by him, and he can forget about all of the things weighing and stabbing at his mind at all times, caused by everyone. you’re truly his safe place. a real angel sent from heaven.
“engelchen.”
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