#he deserves peace after years with the guys

[courtingchaos]

Unclean

Gator Tillman x Fem Reader

Warnings: Religious themes, menstruation: sex and talk of, fingering, blood in various places, allusions to physical abuse (not reader) it’s period sex!

A/N: Listen, I am an ex-for-almost-20-years-Catholic who grew up around a lot of Southern Baptist, so excuse my (probable) misinterpretation of Leviticus okay? I just think Roy Tillman is a real Old Testament guy. I’ve had this little one shot in the wings for a while and only got the guts to finish it recently. I’m also deeply aware that I am interpreting this character much differently than the fandom at large so like, peace be with you.

18+ NSFW No Minors

Nothing but low lights behind the pulpit and a few along the aisles to let you see the outline of him in the first pew. Leaned forward, still and quiet in the cold dark that seeps into the small wooden church. Outside, the calvary congregates and converses after their Sunday dinner provided by their shepherd and in here, in the small family chapel, it’s just the two of you in the glow of old bulbs. Warm yellow gives the bridge of his nose a highlight and shines off the sun bleached strands in his hair. When your footsteps reach his radius he looks over his shoulder, tense and sharp, but the golden glow reflects off his eyes to give him a softer look than he deserves.

You stop two pews back and he gives you a once over, nervous eyes flitting from your head to your feet and up again before he begins chewing on his bottom lip. “You go home?”

“Yes.”

“Why you still in your dress?”

“It’s still Sunday.”

He laughs through his nose and turns back to the pulpit, thumb rubbing lightly against his reddened lip. “Did you stop at the house?”

You step forward one more length of pew and stop again to watch him fidget with the vape in his hand. “No, Roy wanted to talk to my father so I came back out here.”

Gator hums, a twitch of his lip letting his displeasure show for just a moment. The smack of the metal against his palm is loud in the small space like the yell you know he’d like to let loose would be. Sharp and mean like his demeanor, trying to be like his father but just south of right.

“Did you eat?” You ask while creeping up beside him. The smoke from the pit nearby has snuck in through the gaps in the doorways and mingled with the dry smell of wood and old hay. This chapel has always reminded you of an attic with its exposed beams but the scent of decades old pine makes you the most nostalgic.

“No.”

“Not hungry?”

He looks up at you before he sits back against the bench, takes in your pieces before the whole of you, eyes flitting again from your open coat to the hem of your dress fluttering just below your knee. Vape set aside he reaches out to drag a finger up from your knee and under that hem where you keep some of your secrets. Lines of ink not even your parents have seen, another cut you’ve inflicted like the hundred others while trying to claw your way out of this compound.

Fingers dig into the back of your thigh to hold you in front of him, lets the heat from his palm sink in while he doesn’t answer you.

“What was this morning about?”

He tilts his head in lieu of opening his mouth.

“Roy was on his ‘god honoring woman’ kick again. Did Karen piss him off last night?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t home.” His other hand snakes between your thighs to hold higher up. “She didn’t look upset.” He drops his gaze then to stare at the yellow flowers dotted over the black fabric of your dress, the one your mother bought you as a threat veiled in a peace offering.

“A little too much Leviticus for my taste.”

“Mm.”

Your coat lands on the floor behind you and his fingers inch higher on the inside of your thigh. He seems fixed on the way your dress bunches over his wrist instead of the soft touch behind his ear where you tuck an errant strand of hair finally falling out of its place. Outside there’s a muffled uproar of laughter that makes you cast a sharp look through the foggy windows and Gator takes the opportunity to move his warmth away to pluck at the buttons at the top of your dress.

“Little low cut for church.”

“My mother doesn’t think so.”

“I’ll thank her later.” An actual smile this time as the first button slips through silky cotton, followed by two more before you stop him. The wood creaks under your knee as you shift your weight to it, sliding it up against his hip. Again his hand finds your thigh, up high to find his favorite ink, a simple black line cross that his thumb rubs small circles into.

He hasn’t noticed yet that you tucked your underwear in your coat before you walked all the way out here. Risky since this morning left you with a bloody visit and now you sit unclean under the rafters his family raised. Your dress slides up easily enough, almost up enough to share your secret, and finally he pulls you close. Tugs at you to get you over his lap, your other knee colliding dully with the bench back.

It’s like a switch with him sometimes the way his mood will turn. Sour petulance that makes you roll your eyes will break for roaming hands that map out your body. Sullen quiet suddenly loud with his wants, with his questions, with his panting and moaning. Any place he can have you but more often in places that would bring down his father’s ire if you were found.

Flush against him now he pulls you down to meet the seat of his hips before he pushes your dress up around your waist and pauses mid grope to laugh.

“Does your mother approve of this too?” Fingers move again along the crease of your hip until they reach soft curls. He catches your eye and doesn’t look away as he dips his fingers into your heat, his lip caught between his teeth again, this time with a smirk. He pushes up slow, thick fingers dragging against oversensitive flesh, his palm flat so you can grind against him. Words seem caught in his throat, probably something goading and whispered, something laughed out on a breath. You know he wants to make you blush about how wet you already are and how loud you’re panting but he changes his angle and moves his hand, pulls it back in front of himself and stops to stare at the red staining his fingers.

“Oh.” You don’t pretend to sound surprised. He frowns but doesn’t push you away like you thought he might’ve, instead he seems frozen in place and you don’t miss the blush beginning to trickle down his cheeks. “It’s okay.” You grab his fist hovering between you. “It’s okay.” You repeat and he looks at you then, wide eyes searching for something. Leaned in close you bring his hand up slow, up towards his lips parted around a whispered sound of protest.

“Is-isn’t this breaking a r-rule or something?”

He doesn’t curl his fingers away when you press them to his mouth, a long line of blood from his cupids bow to his chin. With your free hand you fumble with his belt and his pants, keeping his doe eyed gaze glued to yours.

“Your father walks in here without burning.”

Confusion has nestled its way into his features, eyes squinted at you until you wedge your hand in between thick fabric and hot skin. His gaze droops when you pull him free, mouth splitting open with a quiet gasp. You move then, sitting up on your knees to look down on him wanting and blooded, dragging your hands down his long arms along the back the of the pew outstretched to grip the hardwood with white knuckles. Fear, you think at first, from the wild print you’ve left on his face. Anxiousness maybe that he might be found like this, not just compromised but marked now, cut off from the flock finally.

“Gator…” You barely whisper and he’s chasing you upwards. Against the restraints of your hands on his wrists he pulls when your lips don’t descend to meet his.

A choked off whine, “Please.” His hips wiggle between your knees for some kind of friction, anything to get closer. “C’mon, come back.” He pleads through clenched teeth, tacky red turning matte on his full lips. It draws you back in and he smiles when you close the distance with a brush of a kiss, something light that makes him huff before you consume him.

He doesn’t taste like when you bite your cheek or suck on a paper cut. It’s a foreign taste on a familiar tongue, faint passion fruit from his habit and a metallic tinge that makes you groan into him. He feels good. Pinned like a fluttering moth looking for an escape, for a saving grace that he seems to find in your lips and the dip of your tongue. His breath comes in sharp puffs through his nose smushed against your cheek and again you hear him whine when you don’t let him raise his hands.

A shake of his head to break the kiss to get his point across to take a deep breath-

Outside there’s heavy footfalls on the old wooden steps. Both of you freeze like deer, your eyes trained on the heavy door and his boring through your chin, waiting to bolt at the first sign of discovery.

Muffled voices, a click of metal and your heart in your throat when this unsuspecting intruder has a change of pace. A muffled question. A pause. Quiet laughter and parting footsteps.

Your fingers simply drape and Gator takes the opportunity to surge into you. Hands grabbing at your hips to hold you closer, pushing you down on him. He guides himself in with his thumb, a quick brush over that ache of yours amplified through thrill and nature.

You miss him watching your face scrunch up in apprehension. Lips parted like his, pink lipstick smudged with blood, only you hiss out an “easy” that he answers with a shush. Lets his hands run back up under your dress to find his favorite little scar of ink, smearing red along the way. Almost dry now but his fingerprints in your mess between the two of you make him forget his reservations for a few minutes. He forgets the crowd outside and the house ten minutes away. Pushes the expectations away. He instead watches you relax into him, the way your hands unwind from his shirt only to feel them slide up behind his neck to wind back up in his hair. Your tongue rolls over your bottom lip before you bite down on a moan when he bucks his hips up gently.

This wet heat, new to him in this taboo, draws him in when you roll your hips in earnest suddenly. You’ve angled him to find that magic spot he’s usually still searching for by this point, your head rolling back on your shoulders to ride your knees raw against the wood. The deep heat of you almost scorches him, a small voice in the back of his thoughts reminding him of hellfire and naked founts.

“Fuck.” Said out loud in the hopes of chasing away a voice tinged with vitriol and a release of the climbing pleasure up his spine. You writhe in his lap and he gropes at your hips, slides long fingers down and under to grab at your thighs. Slick with sweat you slip in his grasp, heavy breaths blown over his locks when you finally reach behind him to hold onto the bench.

The open top of your dress brushes his face enough times he bites at the buttons, finally catching them between his teeth. Through his lashes he watches your face, glued to the peek of teeth behind your lips. The way you glitter in low light and muggy air. The dip of your collar bones when you roll your body into his and he can feel you tighten all around him, core and arms and air.

A not gentle hand suddenly wrapped around his jaw, fingers prodding into his mouth to hang and pull. Wandering lips messily find his own and then trail off over his cheek to end at his ear, your peak whined against him. Pulsing that makes him hold you closer so he can chase after you to find his own end.

He’s been on the precipice since you threw your coat on the ground and all it takes is a few gentle thrusts before he chokes on a groan and suddenly he feels bottomless. No floor, no bonfires, no congregants too close for comfort. Just your face in his neck and the shared messy warmth pressed between you two.

There’s a swing of headlights over the front of the chapel that breaks whatever tandem calm you two have created. Separated wordlessly with barely a glance at the extra mess, Gator quickly readjusts his pants and you snatch your coat on your way to the small ladies room in the foyer. More muffled voices tonight that intrude on your privacy while you scrub smudged lipstick off your face and rebutton your dress, jumping only a little when there’s a knock at the door.

“You fall in?” Your father jokes on the other side.

“Give me a minute!” You snap while trying to slide your underwear back on. A final look before you walk out to make sure the surface of you is presentable, no visible marks or smudges. Out in the entryway your father gestures at you to follow and Roy gives you too long of a look when he waves. You wonder if he can see it all over your face even though you scrubbed the evidence off. Wonder if he can smell it on you two like a predator sniffing out wounded prey.

Can he see your handprints all over his son? Invisible blood that marks him different now. The tang of sin sits all over your tongue and when you run it behind your teeth to savor you catch Gator staring again. Catch him watching your hands twist in your coat pockets and his eyes flit back up to your mouth. You can feel the faded touch of him worrying at your tattoo even across a courtyard.

“Hey Gator?” You holler at him while climbing into your father’s truck. “Don’t forget dinner.” A simple smile for him before you slam the door, a break in the tension and your phone is vibrating seconds later. You wait to look until your home but it still makes you laugh even when you’re starting your laundry.

Thank your mom for me.

#Gator Tillman #Gator Tillman Fic #Gator Tillman x Reader #My Fic #My Work #Gator Tillman Smut

[your-local-jedi-commander]

Every time The Batch®️ does something IT, all I can think about is Tech, watching them from clone heaven and facepalming because he probably knows about at least 3 easier ways on how to do it lmao

#lol #idk #star wars #the bad batch #i’m still not over it #but I hope he’s alright in clone heaven #he deserves peace after years with the guys #lmao #sw #sw tbb #sw the bad batch #tbb s3 #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season three spoilers #clone trooper tech #tbb tech #clone force 99 #bad batch tech #bad batch #star wars memes

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Toshiro Mifune (Rashomon, Seven Samurai, Grand Prix, Stray Dog)—i love and respect my boi tab hunter (rest in peace you beautiful, beautiful man ❤️), but after i watched like 12 of his movies in a row on tcm last year, i ALSO love and respect toshiro mifune, son of a literal actual hatamoto’s (a high-ranking samurai) daughter, also very possibly related to the best judokan EVER, AND, he’s the guy who SHOULD have been obi-wan kenobi. the fact that he’s ALSO hot as hell just adds to his appeal.

Sidney Poitier (Lilies of the Field, To Sir With Love)—an unbelievably beautiful man, a complete class act. Something about his eyes breaks my heart every time.

This is the final poll of the Hot & Vintage Men Tournament. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

THIS POLL LASTS FOR 24 HOURS.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Toshiro Mifune propaganda:

"In addition, he spoke fluent mandarin and every time he was casted in foreign films, he said his lines in the language of the movie (although they ended up dubbing him. He wasn’t happy about it though).”

Submitted: this gifset

Also submitted: this video (yes, that one)

"Crucial Toshiro Mifune propaganda: THOSE LEGS"

"That is hella muscle. Go watch The Hidden Fortress, aka Star Wars A New Hope. His thighs deserve an award."

Sidney Poitier propaganda:

#sidney poitier #toshiro mifune #hotvintagepoll #hot men finals #fuck! that! old! man!!

[phoenixkaptain]

I have So Many thoughts about Scum Villain I have so many feelings I am overflowing with Them I am drowning in it I am dying

Shen Qingqiu telling everyone (including himself!) that he didn’t mourn for Binghe, okay? He did not mourn for him! He just repaired his first sword and buried it in his back garden so he could sit by it for hours at a time! He just felt so guilty that he concocted an entire elaborate ploy to off himself but still live so that Luo Binghe could get revenge on him! He just stopped eating because he didn’t have to eat in the first place and food tastes bland when it’s not made by Binghe! He called out Binghe’s name and compared Gongyi Xiao to Binghe and thought about Binghe at least once every three sentences, but he was Not mourning! He was just vibing, okay, you don’t get it-

The extra where Shen Qingqiu sees Luo Binghe during the five years he was dead. And Luo Binghe is working diligently and always busy and makes food everyday like he’s waiting for Shen Qingqiu to wake up. And he says he doesn’t know how much longer he can take it, but he takes it for years and would’ve taken it for even longer if he had to. And he holds Shen Qingqiu’s body to feed him qi and Shen Qingqiu recognizes it as the way he held Luo Binghe when he got hurt. And even though loterally everyone thought Luo Binghe was doing awful things to Shen Qingqiu’s body, all evidence points to him just holding it. Luo Binghe never touched Shen Qingqiu inappropriately and he was so sad and he was so broken.

The part where Luo Binghe says “Theoretically, how would someone go about showing another person that they have strong feelings for them?”

Mobei-jun: “Have you tried beating him up three times a day?”

Luo Binghe: “Mobei-jun, you are uninvited from answering.”

Shang Qinghua thinking about Peerless Cucumber everytime he gets insulted and getting nostalgic about it, but then pretending he only “just remembered” the username when he actually meets Shen Qingqiu and finds out he’s the one Shang Qinghua has been fondly remembering for literal years. You only remembered just barely, huh, Shang Qinghua? Yeah, okay, sure…

Shen Qingqiu was purposefully pretending to be stupid so that Liu Qingge would beat up his own Bai Zhan Peak disciples. Shen Qingqiu finds out they were bullying Luo Binghe and vows to get revenge, he was purposefully playing dumb so that Liu Qingge would volunteer someone to come up and then he’d go, “whoop, haha, silly me, you were right, Shidi :)”

Shang Qinghua comes back from a trip and everyone is talking about how weird Shen Qingqiu is acting and he’s like “What? What happened? How is he acting strange?” and Yue Qingyuan replies “He had a peaceful conversation with me for two hours” and Shang Qinghua immediately goes “He’s cursed, he’s definitely cursed, is he dying??”

Everyone else: “Shen-shixiong is being nice to us…”

Yue Qingyuan: “Is there any way to get Shen-shidi back to normal?”

Everyone else, internally: “Maybe, but I’m not looking for it.”

The entire Holy Mausoleum section. It’s stuck with me for two years. I love all of it. From beginning to end. The entire section, the moment Shen Qingqiu wakes up in a coffin to the moment Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe get out. All of it. Every single thing that happens is comedy gold and I will never get over it.

But of course there are highlights.

Shen Qingqiu, knocking on a coffin he can’t open, trying to hide from the things wandering around trying to kill him: “Excuse me, may I come in?”

Tianlang-jun, inside that coffin: “Sure.”

Shen Qingqiu just casually carting his boy Binghe around. Hanging out. Trying not to die. Getting stabbed multiple times and having plants grow out of his legs. The usual.

The Old Huan Hua Palace Master being a human stick. At first, Shen Qingqiu is like “omg Binghe is insane.” Then, after the Old Palace Master acts creepy towards Binghe and kind of implies creepiness about Binghe’s mom, Shen Qingqiu goes: “No, wait, yeah, this guy deserves this and worse.”

Shen Qingqiu: sits up in his coffin

Meng Mo: “I can’t help you wake up Luo Binghe.”

Shen Qingqiu: lays back down in his coffin

Meng Mo: “What are you- Are you going back to sleep?!”

Shen Qingqiu calling Zhuzhi-lang “Xizhi-lang” and Zhuzhi-lang tripping over his own feet then just sighing and letting him do whatever

Tianlang-jun: “Why do you know so much about the Holy Mausoleum?”

Shen Qingqiu:

Shen Qingqiu: “LOOK a DISTRACTION!”

Luo Binghe: “Why do you know so much about the Holy Mausoleum?”

Shen Qingqiu: “I read about it in one of Qing Jing Peak’s books.”

Luo Binghe, previous head disciple who has all of the books that have ever been on Qing Jing Peak memorised: “I see. I don’t recall that one.”

Shen Qingqiu:

Shen Qingqiu: “Oh hey look, a distraction-“

Tianlang-jun asking Shen Qingqiu to help him up and then his arm popping off.

Tianlang-jun just generally being the weirdest fucking guy. Tries to be a wingman for his nephew. Helped conspire with his nephew to bring a dead guy back to life. Has been stuck under a mountain and says it was for ten years, despite the fact that it was almost certainly longer than that. Sings the song about Shen Qingqiu fucking his son and then bluntly asks “Did you fuck my son?” Says “I was looking forward to meeting you” specifically because of the song about Shen Qingqiu fucking his son.

Tianlang-jun, just in general, is one of my favourite parts of Scum Villain. Like, he’s so… he’s my poor little meow meow. He is my scrungly. He literally falls apart and is just kind of like “Again? Dang.” A bunch of cultivators show up to thwart him and he’s like “I expected more of you.” He realizes that Shen Qingqiu, Zhuzhi-lang, and Luo Binghe were all in the same bed together and is like “Does Shen Qingqiu always need two others?” He walks in on that scene, only seeing Zhuzhi-lang and Shen Qingqiu, and says “Continue, please, don’t let me interrupt.” Finds out his wifey wasn’t apart of the plot to trap him under the mountain and even tried to save him and immediately melts like the marshmallow-hearted maiden he is.

Pre-trapped-under-a-mountain Tianlang-jun is a treat too. Finds his nephew and immediately says “You’re so ugly. Have a bunch of soldiers and land. Bye.” Meets Su Xiyan and becomes insufferable. “Zhuzhi-lang, am I ugly? Zhuzhi-lang, don’t you think my face is worth more than two silver pieces? Zhuzhi-lang, human women are so different than what I’ve read. Zhuzhi-lang, be honest, am I obnoxious?” He literally tries to barter over how attractive his face is and is legitimately pleased when Su Xiyan says it’s worth a gold coin. Zhuzhi-lang describes him as being the sugar baby and Su Xiyan being his sugar daddy, but Tianlang-jun not only doesn’t mind, he even seems to enjoy it. Zhuzhi-lang describes him as a pure-hearted maiden falling for a roguish cultivator. Zhuzhi-lang has the terrible realization that, in his own metaphor, he’s the handmaiden who follows her innocent lady around trying to keep her out of trouble.

My favourite part will always be the reveal though. The reveal that, after a whole novel dreading it, Luo Binghe is the antagonist. Luo Binghe purposefully led these cultivators and monks and priests to Tianlang-jun and let them all think Tianlang-jun was the one fuelling Xin Mo. Tianlang-jun says “I can’t even fuel Zhuzhi-lang’s human form, how could I fuel Xin Mo?” and everyone feels like they were thrust under cold water. Luo Binghe stands there and smiles and adjusts his sleeves and doesn’t care because none of these cultivators can touch him, most of them were taken out during the fight with Tianlang-jun, and Luo Binghe has basically already won.

He says that he hates Shen Qingqiu choosing others over him. Shen Qingqiu always chooses someone or something else. Shen Qingqiu always leaves when he asks him to stay. Luo Binnghe says that he’s going to make sure Shen Qingqiu has no other choice. If Luo Binghe isn’t his first choice, then Binghe will become his only choice. He’s willing to destroy the human realm and the demon realm both so that Shen Qingqiu will only be able to choose him.

One of the monks is like “That’s kind of fucked up. You’re just going to make him hate you.”

Luo Binghe: “Shizun can hate me all he wants, as long as he never leaves. And he won’t be able to leave.”

Luo Binghe is the ultimate villain. He is literally unstoppable. He is almost totally unkillable. He’s the final boss, but he’s a boss who’s always scripted to win. He’s more powerful than all of them combined and he’s gone actually insane because he can’t control Xin Mo. Xin Mo is feeding all his insecurities and Luo Binhe decided that the cure was to tie Shen Qingqiu to him with a leash too tight to escape.

He is absolutely terrifying, in this moment. He’s insane. He’s outright telling everyone that he’s destroying everything they love because if he doesn’t, Shen Qingqiu might choose one of them over him.

He’s - so - cool!

Luo Binghe is always cool, he’s so badass, but this moment just cements how absolutely unhinged he is!! He is insane!! He is manipulative and silver-tongued and adaptable!! He is grabbing the narrative with both hands and forcing it to be the way he wants it to be! He’s so cool, he’s so very cool, and I get chills when I read this part, he’s too cool!!

And I’ve already made a long post about how meaningful it is that Shen Qingqiu ultimately does choose Luo Binghe. Even out of a world-ending event, he still chooses Luo Binghe. Shen Qingqiu only didn’t choose him before because he didn’t know that was an option. For the rest of the novel and all the extras that take place post-canon, he seeks out Binghe. He’s the sticky one.

He says he hurt Luo Binghe’s feelings by saying he didn’t want to sleep in his bed and he’s upset because he was going to give in if Binghe just pushed a bit further! He thinks Binghe is in danger and takes him to Qing Jing Peak and tells everyone not to bully him and tells Luo Binghe that he can beat up the Bai Zhan Peak disciples as much as he wants, as long as they don’t die. He patches him up and just generally sticks to him. In the extra where Binghe shrinks, he takes baby Binghe everywhere. He holds his hand and he’s obsessed with how cute he is and he can’t get over how cute he is and he wants to show off to everyone else how cute he is. He’s having the time of his life, and only gets upset when everyone thinks baby Binghe is his child because Luo Binghe is at least eight, when would he have had him? And he’s a man, that too.

(Ming Fan: “I just assumed Luo Binghe was a demon and demons could do what they wanted.”)

Shen Qingqiu travels everywhere with Binghe and teases Binghe and likes admiring Binghe because Binghe is so handsome and charming and wonderful and-

The succubus extra where he goes to a succubus’ cave with Liu Qingge and is too flustered to look at the naked women everywhere and is very impressed by Liu Qingge’s disinterest in all of them. Gets his fortune read because he thought it might be fun and is like “…yeah, okay, sure, like this is true” and it turns out to be completely true. Thinks Madam Meiyin is weird because she never even officially joined Binghe’s harem, what a weirdo, who wouldn’t want to join Binghe’s harem? Pushes Liu Qingge into a pond to help him get over sex pollen.

Shen Qingqiu is such a madlad. He transmigrates and is like “I’m not going to be stupid and panic and make everyone suspicious of me 🙄” then becomes the most suspicious man on the planet by treating his martial siblings and disciples slightly better than dirt. He’s as obsessed with Luo Binghe as Binghe is with him, but pretends (poorly) that he isn’t. Agrees to do what Binghe wants to do while admitting that Binghe is definitely manipulating him, but Binghe is so cute, how can he say no? Thinks his little white lotus disciple is as pure as a maiden while Luo Binghe is over there desperately trying not to get a boner.

Shen Qingqiu never figures out that Luo Binghe messed up excersizes on purpose as an excuse to cling to him. It doesn’t even cross his mind. He thinks Luo Binghe was just clumsy. He thinks it’s a bit weird, since Luo Binghe is so good as everything else, but figures it’s just something Binghe was going through. Literally never crosses his mind that it was purposeful. Doesn’t even pop up as an option. He remains completely oblivious to that, even after Luo Binghe literally tells him he’s been horny for him since he was a disciple. Shen Qingqiu just does not realize.

I also really like MoShang, I promise, I find their dynamic to be honestly quite sweet, especially since Mobei-jun is just a spoiled princess who isn’t used to having to ask for what he wants. Luo Binghe and Mobei-jun respect each other and might even be a bit fond of each other, but good God, Mobei-jun, do not give me romantic advice, I swear. Shang Qinghua is constantly like “Cucumber-bro is so stupid, how can he not notice Binghe’s feelings?” and Mobei-jun is behind him slowly counting to five thousand in an attempt not to punch anymore holes through the walls. Great dynamic, 10/10, at least Shen Qingqiu eventually realizes that Binghe’s into him, Shang Qinghua doesn’t get the hint.

I like Yue Qingyuan being like “My sword is my life. Quite literally, it is my life. Accidentally combined my life force in my sword, whoops, now I lose a few years everytime I pull my sword out ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯”

Qi Qingqi is constantly like “Shen Qingqiu, the most annoying man I know. I would sell him for a half-eaten, unsalted tortilla chip. I hate this man’s guts. He is staring at my darling prized disciple but not even in a horny way. He is obsessed with Luo Binghe and never stops bragging about him. He acts like he’s delicate just to get out of having to ride a horse. He’s so lame, so cringe, a loser, the worst.” And near the end she’s like “I guess Shen-shixiong isn’t actually the absolute worst man ever- What do you mean he chose to date the heavenly demon disciple who not only caused him to die, but also threatened to destroy the entire world and everyone on it?! Shen Qingqiu is the stupidest piece of shit man I swear I’m going to murder him with my bare hands and no body will blame me, they’ll probably thank me-“

Mu Qingfang: “Shen-shixiong is being… kind to me? Shen-shixiong… smiled? Shen-shixiong is… being the most reckless man alive, oh no, Shen-shixiong, no!”

Liu Qingge, hanging up pictures of Shen Qingqiu: “I hate Shen Qingqiu.”

All of Luo Binghe’s wives are in sorry states. Well, all of them aside from Ning Yingying, who is living her best life as number two Shizun supporter (number one is Luo Binghe), and Liu Mingyan, who is also living her best life, but by writing porn about her brother’s closest (read: only) friend and a demon. Sha Hualing is in constant suffering because Luo Binghe is a tyrant and also had the gall to ask her for advice on getting into another man’s pants. The Little Palace Mistress was certainly very rude, but Luo Binghe threw her emotional support whip into acid. That’s a bit rude. The others are either dead or Luo Binghe just never notices him because he’s too distracted trying to woo Shen Qingqiu.

Ning Yingying and Liu Mingyan got off lucky. Ning Yingying, especially, really drew the luckiest lot. She went from an airhead who accidentally said things that got her buddy in trouble to a talented cultivator who purposefully says things that get her into fights. Love her picking fights with anyone who badmouths her Shizun. She tried so hard to share the number 1 Shizun fan spot with Luo Binghe, but probably decided that she didn’t want to die and backed off. She apologizes to Luo Binghe because she knows he likes to be the only one to clean Shen Qingqiu’s house. The bestest girl.

Speaking of Bing-ge, I love him. That should be obvious (I wrote a whole fic just to let him be happy) but I really like him. I like when he says “Is this about last time we met? It was on me, Shizun, I swear…” like he didn’t rip Shen Qingqiu’s arm off. I like when he’s fucking pissed that he’s losing and furious that it’s to this weaker, insignificant version of himself who is happy and in love and Shen Qingqiu cares about him and he got to taste that, just briefly, just barely he got to taste how it felt to be loved by Shen Qingqiu, only for a day, he got to feel an ounce of the easy affection and love that didn’t have to lead to sex and that was protective of him instead of expecting him to be protective of them. Shen Qingqiu didn’t expect him to be the strong one, didn’t expect him to be the powerful demon lord, had no expectations at all aside from expecting affection.

And he says “Come with me” like he’s begging for it. He doesn’t understand. He feels like it’s unfair that he didn’t get a loving Shizun. He wants that love. He wants to be chosen. And, ultimately, he leaves, but it just left an impact on me. The way he expected to find a catch but only found that Shen Qingqiu was willing to die for him.

Anyway, all that said, Scum Villain’s pretty okay. I only lie awake thinking about it occasionally. It’s alright.

#scum villain self saving system #svsss #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #luo binghe #luo bingge #bingqiu #bingyuan #mobei jun #shang qinghua #moshang #a bit of #cumplane #tianlang jun #zhuzhi lang #su xiyan #yue qingyuan #liu qingge #qi qingqi #liu mingyan #ning yingying #ming fan #mu qingfang #sha hualing #the inane ramblings of a madman #long post #really long post #like extremely long post #i tag them long post so you guys can block them

[mrs-kmikaelson]

Should've Known Better

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader, Mikaelsons x sister-in-law!reader, Kol Mikaelson x reader (if you squint), Marcel Gerard x mother-figure!reader Summary: After a thousand years of marriage, everything comes crumbling down, taking you with it. But you shouldn't have been so surprised; you knew that Klaus was fire, and you knew that fire burned. You should've known better. Warnings: long, lots of angst and tears, cheating, (do i put tw for violence? like it's tvd, ofc there's violence), no promises of a happy ending Words: 7.8K

Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: not an update for the tribrid yet, but i come bearing a peace offering. this is the only one for now, but i have an idea for a part two if you guys want one. also, tell me if you want to be on just my klaus taglist or my tvdu one.

In the past, you’d been told that your relationship with Klaus didn’t make any sense. You ignored them. They don’t know us, you thought. They don’t understand what we’ve gone through. And that, for the most part, was true.

You were turned with the Mikaelsons when you were only twenty-one years old. You and Klaus had stuck together since then. Through all the trials and tribulations, you two were inseparable. The daggering of his siblings, the hunter’s curse, his enemies coming after you, trying to break his curse—you were there every step of the way. Nothing could make you leave him. In your mind, it didn’t matter what obstacle life threw at you; you’d beat it. You beat it every single time.

Later, you realized that you should’ve known this would happen sooner.

You should’ve known that it was too good to be true.

You could still remember walking into your shared apartment that day in the nineties. You were on top of the tallest mountain, feeling like you were on top of the world. Until suddenly you fell, plummeting down to the ground as the life you’d built fell with you. But that wasn’t the right word to use. You did not fall that day.

You were pushed.

“Nik, I got the-”  you cut yourself off, dropping the bags in your hands to the ground. Something in them cracked, but you couldn’t hear a thing. Your world went silent; it was as if the only cracking you could hear was the cracking of your own heart.

Klaus quickly got up, speeding to you. While he was able to get his pants on quickly, there was nothing he could do to hide the blonde in his bed- your bed.

“Y/N, love, it’s not-”

“It’s not what, Klaus?” Tears that you didn’t even know were there raced down your cheeks. You saw him wince when you addressed him. You never called him that.

“This is not what it looks like.”

“Oh, really? So you didn’t just fuck this girl in our bed?” At that, his eyes went downcast. You felt your hands shake. He had no explanation to give you and you knew that; it wouldn’t matter if he had one, anyway. You weren’t gonna stick around to listen to it.

You sped out of your shared apartment as fast as you could, not caring if any human onlookers saw. That day, you swore to yourself that you were done.

You should’ve known better.

That day, you ended up running to Elijah, hoping he would give you refuge, but you knew now that it was wishful thinking. It didn’t matter that Klaus and Elijah were fighting. It didn’t matter how close you and the nobleman were, how much he claimed to care for you. At the end of the day, his brother would still mean more to him.

So, that same day, Elijah brought you right back to Klaus.

You refused to talk to him, but he begged, and begged, and begged. He promised, and promised, and promised. He showered you with affection and more sweet-nothings than he’d ever given you. So, you thought to yourself, he’s trying. He just made a dumb mistake. We all deserve second chances.

You kick yourself now for ever being so stupid. But, at the time, all you could think about was the centuries upon centuries of love the two of you shared. It felt like a crime to throw it all away over one mistake.

But it wasn’t just one mistake.

“Y/N, love, please don’t do this-” Klaus reached a hand out to grab your arm, but you shoved him away. You stormed out of the house, your husband following right behind you. It was pouring outside, but you didn’t care. There was a much more dangerous storm brewing inside of you. You’d prefer to be out in the rain than to ever be in that house with him again.

“Y/N, please-”

“Get the hell away from me.”

“Y/N-”

You spun on your heel and exploded, “Get the hell away from me, Klaus!” The rain hid it all so well, but you were both crying.

“Please, I can’t lose you.” You finally broke down, letting out a sob. You fell down to the ground as Klaus tried desperately to catch you, ending up kneeling on the ground next to you.

You tried to hard to be strong, not to cry, but you couldn’t help it. You were smart; you knew better than to let a man do this to you. But, when it came to Klaus, the man you’d spent your entire life with, your heart overpowered your head.

Your voice cracked with every word you spoke. “You said this would never happen again.”

“Love-”

“No, you promised me, Nik, you said never again.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t let him get a word in. “You said you would never put me through this again-”

“Y/N-”

“It’s been all of ten years, and here we are, in the same position you put us in last time-” You cut yourself off sobbing as your voice failed you. You buried your head in your hands. The heartbreak you felt was ineffable, so much more intense than the last time. When you said your vows all those years ago, so high on happiness, you never could’ve imagined that you’d one day feel like this—that Klaus would make you feel like this.

He didn’t say anything else. There was nothing to say. There was no defence for what he was doing to you. So instead, he wrapped his arms around you, and being tired, you let him.

It was funny, almost. Even as he engulfed you in his warmth, even after he took you inside and placed you by the fireplace, you still felt so cold.

After the second time, you left him. You woke up the morning after, wrapped in his arms, and you left without looking back. Leaving him almost hurt just as much as catching him in the act, but you knew this was what was best. You needed to do this.

This time, you didn’t go to Elijah. You cut off all communication with the Mikaelsons completely, even though they were both blowing up your phone. After the first fifty phone calls, you threw it in a dumpster.

Being away from Klaus made you feel better, but you still didn’t feel like you. For a long time, you felt broken, incomplete, so used. You didn’t know who you were without him. But you got better. 

Slowly, you built yourself back up, building walls around your heart so that no one could ever do that to you again. But if Klaus was the big bad wolf, then you may as well have just been a little piggy because, when he found you, he blew those walls down effortlessly as if they were made of straw.

See, Klaus Mikaelson was like a whirlpool: try and swim away all you want, but he would just keep sucking you in until you’d eventually die.

You should’ve known better.

You walked into your apartment with a kick in your step. It was a good day; you were happy. But the smile on your face dropped when you saw the figure standing in your home.

You tried to go back out through the door, but Klaus was faster, speeding to you and closing it shut, caging you between the door and him. You let out a shaky breath, unable to turn around as you rested your forehead against the door, tears welling in your eyes.

It’d been three years since you last saw him, the longest you’d ever gone without seeing him, yet he still made you feel things that no one else on earth could.

For a moment, you were both mute until you broke the silence, whispering, “What are you doing here?”

You heard him swallow as if he was scared, but you were the one that was terrified. Klaus would never lay a hand on you, but he could hurt you in ways that were so much worse, so at that moment, you feared for your life. Because you knew that, with the right words, he could get you to fall into his trap again, and going through all this again would kill you.

“I-” he paused, like he was gathering his thoughts. You thanked whatever god was out there that he didn’t make you face him. “I knew you were here, I just- I wanted you to have time to yourself, but, Y/N, it’s time to come home now.”

Your lips quivered as you struggled to hold the tears. He made it sound like this was a game, and maybe to him it was, but it wasn’t like that for you. This wasn’t a break that you’d just “come back” from; you were done, you promised yourself that.

You shook your head, but Klaus spoke before you could even utter your protests. “I can break my curse.” Your eyes involuntarily went wide, not having expected that. You were just about to spin around, but he turned you first. As soon as your eyes met his, you couldn’t help the tear that fell down your face.

It was like you forgot how beautiful he could be.

He looked to be having somewhat of the same reaction as you, scanning over you as if couldn’t tell that you were real. And honestly, you even felt like pinching yourself, too.

His voice got softer. “There’s a girl in Virginia, the doppelgänger.” He paused to let you say something, but you were so taken aback by everything that’d happened after you stepped into your apartment that you were practically speechless. How ironic. You’d spent months agonizing over all you’d say to him if you ever saw him again, but now that you were, you had nothing to say.

“I am so close, Y/N,” he whispered. His hands cupped your cheek so gently that a stranger would’ve never guessed that this man had destroyed entire villages, that he even destroyed you, too. When he rested his forehead on yours, the tears that you were trying so hard to hold in came falling like your eyes were a waterfall. “I can- I can wake the rest of the family. Rebekah, Kol, Finn- I know how much you miss them all.”

Your heart tightened in your chest because you did miss them, but you forgot just how much you missed him.

“We can be a family again, Y/N.” You screwed your eyes shut. Your husband was a smart man. Whether the tears in his eyes were real or if he was just a great actor, you couldn’t be sure, but he knew exactly what your weak-spots were and he was using them against you.

This wasn’t fair, you thought. This wasn’t fair at all.

“Please, let us be a family again.” You opened your eyes, biting your lip to prevent the sobs from escaping. “I love you.” Oh, you should’ve kept your eyes closed. You should’ve sped out the door the second you saw him. You should’ve ran farther, tried harder to disappear so that he would’ve never found you.

But none of that mattered.

Because, just like that, you folded.

After a week, you ended up leaving with Klaus. You helped him with his plans to become a hybrid, and he was trying, you could tell he was really trying, but your marriage wasn’t the same. Whenever you kissed him, you couldn’t help but wonder, did she kiss him like this? When you made love, you wondered, was he so tender and loving with her, too? Were you even as special as he told you that you were?

There was only so much trying he could do. You knew the damage was done. You now had insecurities that no amount of sweet words could ever get rid of. You were such a confident woman, but you didn’t feel that way, not anymore.

Your mirror was cracked, sure, but you could still see yourself. You still saw a future, a bright future. You, Klaus, Elijah, Rebekah, Kol, Finn—you could all be a family, just like Klaus told you that day. You could see it.

So you stayed.

Eventually, they were all woken up. For a while, things felt normal, like when you’d been human. But you were starting to learn that good things never lasted long enough.

When Esther came back, she tried to kill you all. You defeated her, as a family, but no matter how hard you tried to convince them, your siblings all left. This family’s broken, Kol said to you. You’d best get out while you can, Y/N.

You should’ve listened to him.

But you didn’t, and you’d later wonder if things would’ve been different. If you took Kol’s offer to come with him, to leave your husband and travel the world, then would you have been happy?

You tell yourself you’d never know, but you knew deep down that you would’ve been happy, that at least you wouldn’t have been devastated.

It was only you and Rebekah; you were the only ones that could stick by Klaus. In that way, you two were one in the same, two sides of the same coin. You’d always be living in the same hell, trying to get to heaven by being loyal to him, but little did you both know, the longer you stayed, the deeper down into hell you went. Until heaven was unobtainable. 

For a while, things were okay. You and Klaus were okay—God, you were just getting to okay. And then Kol died.

That took the cake. Nothing you’d ever felt was so painful, not even what your soulmate did to you, or the man who was supposed to be your soulmate.

Suddenly, you were wishing you could turn back time, wishing you could’ve gone with Kol when he asked you to, wishing you could’ve spent more time with him—you just got him back.

After Kol’s death, it was like the idea of a family became unobtainable, too.

You were in pieces, but Rebekah stayed strong. She handled Klaus while you couldn’t, because wasn’t that your job? What else were you here for—what else were either of you here for?

You wanted to kill Jeremy Gilbert, to rip him and Elena to shreds and to make the Salvatores watch. You wanted them to feel even an inch of your pain, but Klaus didn’t let you, and you resented him for it.

The way he behaved after Kol’s death was unforgivable to you, but you were able to see past it because what was his death if it wasn’t a wake up call? You didn’t want to take this life for granted; you didn’t want to wake up one day, regretting not spending time with your husband because he was dead.

So you repaired the bond that was severed after Kol. You held him and he held you just as tight, if not tighter. Neither of you wanted to lose the other. So you worked for it, you worked for something better, you worked to be something like what you were before—to be anything like what you were before.

But, oh, you should’ve known better.

You didn’t walk in on Klaus cheating on you a third time. He confessed to you, tears in his eyes. He begged, and made promises, and begged, and begged, and cried, and cried, and he did the whole routine, but you were silent throughout it all.

You didn’t cry. You felt like your body was out of tears. God knows you’d cried an ocean away for Klaus, for this family, for the family you could’ve had.

You didn’t say anything, but you knew better now. You weren’t gonna run away, you’d learned from your mistakes. Instead, you moved into a different room in the house. The flowers, the jewelry, the sweet words—oh, all of the things that’d made you swoon in the past didn’t faze you. You’d been force-fed so many sweet words that you now had a tooth ache that no doctor could fix.

You didn’t talk to Klaus for weeks, but when the time came, you followed him to New Orleans. You were practically lifeless, but when Klaus brought you into a bar and you were met with the sight of the boy you took in, the boy you thought died, it was like someone took a defibrillator to your chest.

Hugging Marcel for the first time in almost a century was like CPR. Is this a play? you wondered. Is this Klaus’ strategy? But at that moment, it didn’t matter. Once again, you were reminded of Kol. You needed to cherish your loved ones while you still could, and so it didn’t matter if Klaus was using Marcel to get you to crack, you’d appreciate it, anyway.

But you should’ve known better. You should’ve known that you couldn’t be happy.

When you got to the plantation late at night, the house Klaus insisted you stay in, you were confused to see a brunette woman standing on the stairs.

You furrowed your brows while the woman’s went up. She looked like a deer in headlights. Before you could ask her any questions, your sister came into view. She looked almost as shocked as you.

“Rebekah?”

She ignored you. “You’re here,” she said, surprise lacing her voice and an unknown emotion in her eyes.

“Yes, I am.” You glanced in between Rebekah and the brunette, starting to become unnerved with their expressions. You didn’t know why she was surprised that you were here; it was you who should’ve been surprised at her arrival.

You should’ve known better.

“Elijah- Elijah didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

You only got more confused as she went on. “Elijah’s here?”

She ignored you again, scoffing under her breath, shaking her head at the ground. “My brother’s a fool,” she muttered. And only then did you realize that the emotion in her eyes was pity.

You looked back to the brown-haired woman, instantly realizing why she was looking at you like you were going to attack her. Quickly, you looked away before you actually did. You didn’t say the exact words out loud, but they knew that you knew.

“What is she doing here?” Your voice was sharp; you saw the girl flinch out of the corner of her eye.

When Rebekah looked up at you, you felt your heart drop. She looked at you like you were the last to be let in on the secret, like she knew she was about to single-handedly crush you. Softly, she told you, “Listen.” And so you did.

And then every other time your heart broke felt like nothing. Nothing could compare to the utter shock you felt, the pain. Because you heard a little heartbeat, and you knew the implication Rebekah was making.

You looked up to the girl to see that she was about to cry. That almost made you lose it. Who was she to cry? you thought.

You looked at Rebekah to see tears in her eyes, too. “How?” You asked, but she didn’t get a chance to reply.

“Niklaus is a hybrid, Y/N.” You turned to see Elijah slowly walking into the room. He looked careful, almost, like anything he said could set you off. “He’s not a full vampire-”

“And she’s human,” you cut him off, humourlessly chuckling. The human girl gave him a baby.

You couldn’t help but wonder, if you had a baby while you were human, would your marriage have ended up this way?

But none of that mattered. Right now, it felt like nothing mattered. Just as you thought there was nothing more Klaus could do to you, he gets his one night stand pregnant. Now she wasn’t so much of a one night stand anymore, was she?

Your siblings were looking at you like you were a china doll, like their brother had just thrown you and they were waiting for you to break. But your face was blank. On the inside, however, there was an entire hurricane taking place, but it was like your body refused to release any of it. Oh, you wanted to break down, you wanted to so badly, but it felt impossible.

There was nothing more to say- nothing you cared to hear, anyway. So you slowly walked up the stairs, heading for a guest room, ignoring Rebekah and Elijah’s calls. The blonde started crying, and if you’d looked down, then you would’ve seen Elijah burning a hole into the ground with his gaze.

You didn’t want to look at either of them, especially not your husband’s right hand man. You were growing to resent Elijah, even though there was a time when you were the best of friends. Maybe if he hadn’t brought you back to Klaus that day in 1996, then you could’ve been spared this horrible, horrible feeling. But no. Any relationship you had with a Mikaelson was trumped by the relationship they had with Klaus.

Of course, they were here, you thought. Of course, they come running back to him the second he does something stupid.

But how mad at them could you really be?

Haven’t you always been doing the same thing?

After you’d gone up stairs, you could remember popping open an old bottle of whiskey and drinking until your vision was hazy. You couldn’t remember when you fell asleep, but when you awoke, Klaus was right there in bed next to you.

You ignored your thoughts, questioning the nerve of him to get in bed with you after what you’d found out, and walked out of the room.

But you didn’t feel as angry as the night before. You felt numb, almost. The last time you felt so empty was after your parents died a thousand years ago. It didn’t necessarily bother you, though. Feeling nothing felt better than feeling everything.

So you let it be. You showered, got dressed, and left the house. Rebekah and Elijah stared at you as you left, but you didn’t give them the time of day. You went and met Marcel for breakfast like everything was fine, went shopping, then you came back home and climbed into bed. When you woke up, Klaus was there again, but you ignored it and continued with your routine.

For three weeks, you didn’t say a word to your husband. He could barely even try to speak to you; you were gone all day everyday and you were asleep by the time he came home. Rebekah would try to make conversation whenever she saw you, but she only received short answers. Elijah didn’t even try; something told you he felt guilty, and you hoped he did. The pregnant werewolf whose name you learned was Hayley would tense up every time you crossed paths. Once, she tried to apologize to you, but it was as if she were talking to a wall because you didn’t give her the slightest bit of attention.

While you weren’t communicating with the people you lived with, when you went out into the Quarter, you were a different person. You were lively, and confident, and funny, and you didn’t look like a woman whose husband cheated on her. Marcel was constantly introducing you to people; you were always surrounded by people, and while you felt so alone at first, as time progressed, you stopped feeling so lonely.

Suddenly, it was like that hole in you started to heal. The hole was still there, but it was getting better. 

One day, one of your new friends introduced you to this boy, this young, newly turned boy. And, looking at him, you felt something other than despair: you felt like you were human again. Talking to him made you feel things that you forgot existed, things Klaus used to make you feel on a daily basis.

This boy was good. He was pure, and happy, and full of life, even though he was dead.

It felt wrong at first. Klaus was the only man you had ever been with. But perhaps that was why you liked this boy so much: he reminded you of a side of your lover that had been long dormant, the side of Klaus you fell in love with.

You never slept with him. You never even kissed him. All you did was feel something.

But that didn’t matter.

Oh, you should’ve known better.

So much better.

You opened the door, your bag immediately falling to the ground at the sight you were met with. “No- no, no, no.” You sped into the living room, falling to your knees. Your tears fell with you.

In front of you, the sweet, sweet boy you were starting to feel something for was lying dead in his own apartment. You wished it wasn’t real, but his body was grey, veins all over him. With the hole in his chest, he didn’t look so peaceful anymore.

You cupped your hand over your mouth in shock, silently sobbing. You were so distraught that you didn’t even notice the footsteps behind you.

“I ripped his heart out.” You turned your head to see none other than your husband standing a few feet away from you, the red organ in his hand. While your vision was blurred, you could still see the quiet anger on his face, even though he seemed emotionless. He dropped Leo’s heart on to the ground like it was nothing.

Suddenly, a fire that you thought died out alit in your body. You all but sneered, “What is wrong with you?”

Klaus humourlessly chuckled. It was almost like you couldn’t recognize him, but oh, he had never looked more like himself. “What’s wrong with me?” He echoed. “What’s wrong with me is my wife has been sneaking around behind my back.”

You scoffed in utter disbelief and shot up from the ground. “Oh, so I’m the villain now? I’m sorry, saint Klaus, I didn’t know you were so innocent.”

“Don’t start this with me.”

You snapped. “You started this! I have been living in that house with you and your pregnant werewolf, leaving you to your own devices, but the second I try to be happy, I’m the one in the wrong?”

“Y/N-”

“No, I- I can’t even believe what I’m hearing right now.” A laugh escaped from your lips, full of darkness. “I have not done any damage to this marriage.” You pointed at him. “You’re the one who broke your vows, not me. Forgive me for wanting to clutch at any happiness I could have after you took it all from me.”

Klaus pointed right back at you. “Our marriage isn’t over, Y/N- it will never be. I will never let you forget that.”

You shook your head. “This isn’t a marriage anymore.” Klaus’ mouth opened to protest, but you kept going. Everything you held in and didn’t say was coming up like bile in your throat that you desperately wanted to vomit. “You have destroyed this marriage, Klaus! Hell, you destroyed me.” You pointed to yourself, more tears coming to your eyes. “You have cheated not once but three times, and you got the last one pregnant! But the second I- what? The second I so much as talk to a man, you go and rip his heart out and get mad at me? Do you hear how insane that sounds?”

His jaw clenched, and maybe there was some sign of regret or remorse in his eyes, but you honestly couldn’t care less about his feelings at the moment. “Y/N-” he started, but you didn’t dare let him finish. 

“No, it’s you who threw a thousand years down the drain, not me.” You took a step closer to him until you were chest to chest and you were looking right into his eyes. Maybe this would’ve ended in a kiss in the past, but your relationship was no longer the same. You grit your teeth.“I will never let you forget that.”

You then sped out of the apartment, running and running and not stopping until you were in an area you no longer recognized. Once you stopped, you let all of your tears fall, resting a hand on your chest and running the other through your hair. Your heart and your head were both pounding. Every time you thought Klaus couldn’t go any lower, he proved you wrong.

So, standing in the middle of nowhere, you grieved the loss of that poor boy, and at the same time, you grieved the loss of the man who was once your best friend. You grieved the loss of your marriage.

Because this was more than just killing a boy.

In doing this, Klaus killed another part of your marriage when you weren’t sure there was even anything left to kill.

After crying your heart out, you returned to the plantation and went straight to sleep. For a week, you stayed in bed, in spite of Rebekah who came knocking on your door every morning. One time, she didn’t leave so quickly after you remained mute. She sat on your bed, demanding that you eat something. When, throughout all her best efforts, you stayed silent, she threw the glass of blood onto the ground, breaking down and sobbing. Tears ran down her face as she pleaded to you, but you only stared at the wall, expressionless.

She apologized to you in between in her tears, even though it wasn’t her fault, even though you were only this way because of Klaus. But, oh, wasn’t that Rebekah’s specialty? Wasn’t that yours—stuck paying for the sins of the hybrid for the rest of your lives?

She cried, and cried, and cried, until she eventually left the room, too exhausted to keep dancing the same dance. She didn’t come back again.

You never cleaned the blood on the floor from the glass she threw. If anything, you hoped it soaked in and ruined the mahogany floors of this god awful house. It wasn’t long before you wouldn’t have to stare at that stain anymore because Klaus had come to tell you that you were leaving. You’d all be going to the Abattoir, he said.

You were confused; that was where Marcel stayed. So, for the first time in a week, you spoke. When you found out about the altercation they had, you recoiled. Both disgust and shock were on your face: disgusted at your husband’s behaviour and shocked with how he was treating Marcel.

You felt like screaming at him, but you didn’t have enough energy. Instead, you just stared at him. With your voice just barely above a whisper, you told him, That is your son, Klaus. You hoped that conveyed everything else you wanted to say. And you knew your message was received when Klaus walked out of your room without another word.

When you arrived at the compound, little changed. You and your husband still didn’t talk. Soon, when your siblings arrived, you didn’t speak to them either. Life went on this way for a long time.

Until Hayley gave birth.

Oh, life had felt so slow, but suddenly it started moving so fast.

When you first laid your eyes on little Hope, tears came to your eyes. She looked just like her father, you thought. And while you had never wanted anything to do with this, what Klaus had done, you couldn’t find it in yourself to condemn an innocent child.

Maybe Rebekah and Elijah would pay for their brother’s mistakes. Maybe you would, too. But you’d be damned if you let that baby suffer solely for being a Mikaelson.

Even if it meant you’d suffer the most.

The night Klaus came to you, you didn’t greet him, but you didn’t look at him so scathingly, either. In the courtyard, he asked something of you that’d change the rest of your life.

“Y/N, I know we’re not on the best of terms- I know I haven’t been a faithful husband, nor a good one,” he admitted, glancing down as if he were nervous before looking back up to your eyes. This was serious, and he wanted you to know that. “I know you don’t deserve this, and I know you never signed up for this. But I need your help.”

You straightened your shoulders. Whatever he was going to say, it looked like it physically pained him to say it. You wondered if this speech was inspired by Elijah, but you diverted your thoughts away from that. This wasn’t about your marriage; this was about something more important.

“You’re the only person I trust enough to do this, the only person I can really ask. It’s wrong of me to put this pressure on you after everything I’ve done, but I wouldn’t be asking if this weren’t so dire- you have to believe me.” He grabbed onto your hands, and you let him, even though it made you want to die, because when your skin made contact, you felt his hands tremble.

“Hope can’t be here; it’s not safe. The people of this city now know she is my weakness, and they will do anything to spite me, you’ve seen it firsthand.” You knew exactly what he was referring to: the day the witches tried to kill her. At the thought, you tensed. You saw tears gather in his eyes. “Please, I need her not to be here right now-”

You cut him off, almost in a state of awe as you realized what this was all about. “You need them to think she’s dead.” Your voice was breathy, like you’d just finished running a marathon, and wasn’t that what life was like in this family? With the Mikaelsons, no matter how powerful you all were, you’d always be running from something, fighting something. That couldn’t happen to Hope- not now, not yet. And so, without so much as another thought, you agreed, “I’ll do it.”

“Y/N-”

“No, Klaus, I’m doing this.” For the first time since you got to New Orleans, he saw a spark in your eye that you both thought had been extinguished. “I’ll take her, and I will protect her with my life.”

After that, he just stared at you for a few seconds. And for a moment, you as you held eye contact, you caught a glimpse of the man you fell in love with. For a moment, it almost felt like everything was alright, like he never cheated and like you never left. For a moment, the world stopped, and it was just you and him against the world.

But you knew better now.

You were startled when your husband suddenly embraced you tightly as if he never wanted to let you go. And then you realized how you couldn’t remember the last time you’d hugged. So, after a few seconds, if not just for the sake of it, you hugged him back. Although he quietly stammered his next words out, he still said them with more sincerity than you’ve heard from him in a long time. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You knew he was referring to more than just what he was asking of you. But, oh, you knew better now.

“I know.”

Not long after you and Klaus had that conversation, you took Hope. For the first time since you met her that day and found out she was pregnant, you actually talked to Hayley. Her eyes widened, like she couldn’t believe it. You told her that this didn’t make you two friends, but you also promised her that you’d look after her daughter. 

She thanked you after a beat of silence, and then you and Hope disappeared.

You were gone for a while until your family’s drama eased up and you got the okay to come back to the Quarter. In that time, Hope’s parents missed their daughter’s first Christmas and also her birthday. But you made sure to take all the pictures you could. Even with the way you felt about them both, you weren’t gonna let those feelings get in the way of their relationship with Hope.

Their family, rather. When you returned, you realized that this was no longer your family. Eating dinner with them your first night back only proved that to you. This baby had changed all of you. You no longer knew your husband, and he no longer knew you. 

When you first arrived to the compound, Klaus and Hayley came rushing to hug their little girl. The hybrid mouthed a thank you to you as he rubbed Hope’s back, tears in his eyes. The hostility you’d shown him from when he confessed he cheated on you all the way until just before you left New Orleans was gone. You couldn’t find it in you to be hostile as you watched him hold his daughter. In that moment, he was more than the man who betrayed you; he was a father who had been separated from his daughter.

That didn’t mean you forgave him, but you were trying to get there—for Hope.

Rebekah and Elijah showed up not a minute later. The blonde cooed at Hope while Elijah walked toward you, enveloping you in a hug that you couldn’t deny. You were worn out, and all you’d wanted this past year was to not be alone. But, deep down, you knew these efforts were futile. Things with your siblings would never be the same. 

Rebekah had once been your best friend, but she was Klaus’ little sister first. Elijah was like an older brother to you, but he was Klaus’ first. The only person who could’ve possibly understood the way you were feeling was Kol, and he was long gone.

So, even as you stood in a room full of people, you still felt just as alone as when it’d only been you and Hope.

However, your epiphany didn’t matter. Maybe if it weren’t for Hope, you would’ve left and never turned back. Maybe you could’ve gone out and tried to find yourself, tried to be that same girl you were starting to like when you left Klaus in 2006. But Hope was there, and so you knew you couldn’t go anywhere. You had to stay with your family, even if they weren’t really your family anymore, because you just had to be there. You needed to protect Hope. You needed to keep Elijah from handling everything, and you needed to keep your little sister from spinning out. You needed to be there for Klaus to fall back on if he needed to, not for him, but to make sure he could be the best father he could possibly be to Hope.

To you, it wasn’t a choice. You needed to do this.

After all, didn’t you promise always and forever?

So, you stayed. You took care of Hope and took care of Klaus when Rebekah couldn’t take it anymore. It was almost as if your once other half and you had a silent agreement. He never tried anything, not even so much as holding your hand, but you were there for him as a friend, even though it broke your heart.

The two of you never officially ended things. Part of you wondered if maybe he thought you would get back together one day, but now you knew better than to ever expect anything like that. Yes, you would stay in the compound. And yes, you would take care of Hope. And yes, you would play nice with the mother of his child. But you were no longer Klaus and Y/N Mikaelson.

You were just Klaus and Y/N.

You never went out with another boy again. It was pointless, and you never wanted to fall for someone again if this was what love felt like, if it only ever brought you pain.

For years, things went this way. There were a few threats here and there, but they were taken care of every time. Hope was the most loved child in the world. She was starting to grow up, and so she was also starting to realize that her parents weren’t together. She was starting to realize that her father looked at the woman that’d been there all her life with a look of warmth in his eyes. She was starting to ask you questions that you didn’t know how to answer, questions you weren’t prepared to answer.

So, on Christmas Eve, after everyone had went to bed, you unscrewed the oldest bottle of liquor you had. You were originally saving it for a celebratory occasion, but you, too, were starting to realize things. You were starting to realize that, perhaps, the celebration would never come.

So you sat on the couch in the courtyard in front of the fireplace, unfazed by the cold. The Christmas tree diagonal to you glimmered and gleamed, but you were no longer so magnetized to it. Something in the last few years had taken away bits and pieces of your spirit until you were no longer sure it was even there anymore.

You took a swig of the wine, indulging in its bittersweetness as you stared straight into the fire, not caring if it’d blind you. For the first time since you turned, you loathed your immortality. At first, you looked at it like a blessing, something that’d give you an eternity with your family, an eternity to travel the world and enjoy all it had to offer you.

But now it was just a curse.

Just as you took another swig, you heard footsteps behind you, and suddenly the couch dipped, someone else sitting right beside you.

You could immediately tell who it was just from the mere grace of his actions. Elijah. You glanced at the nobleman, almost scoffing at his attire. Past midnight, and yet he was still in a suit.

Your voice was raspy as you remarked, “No rest for the wicked, huh?” Elijah sighed as you passed the bottle to him. For a second, you thought he’d scold you for not using a glass, but instead he took a large gulp straight from the bottle.

“It seems that way, Y/N,” he said, passing the bottle back to you. You chuckled, but there wasn’t much humour in your tone. He didn’t ask you why you were awake, nor did you ask him. You just sat together in front fireplace, passing the bottle back and forth. You didn’t know if you were both so silent because of how tired you were or if it was because your relationship had just become that fragile.

Sitting there, no Saint Nick came by in a magic sled. There were no reindeer, or bells, or snow. There was no magic to this holiday for you anymore, and you wondered if Elijah felt the same way. You wondered if he was as tired as he looked right now, as tired as you felt. If he was, then you couldn’t help but feel bad for him because, even though you had felt resentment for him, you wouldn’t wish this on anybody.

Still though, you wondered if you’d be sitting there if Elijah just let you go that day. You wondered how things would’ve turned out if he let himself go, too.

Like he was reading your mind, he suddenly turned to you and whispered, “I’m sorry, Y/N.” You turned to face him. While he looked serious, he looked more broken than you’d ever seen him. “I’m sorry I brought you back to him that day. I’m just now realizing that I’ve never apologized to you before.” You stared at him silently, and so he continued, looking back to the fire. “You could have been happy, and I took that opportunity away from you. So I am sorry.” He paused, like he was debating on saying something, a glazed look in his eyes as he lightly muttered, “More sorry than you’ll ever know.”

For what felt like forever but was really just a minute, you didn’t say anything. You, too, turned back to the fire, biting your lip as you tried to articulate what you wanted to say. “I think… I think, at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.” You saw him turn back to you out of the corner of your eye, but you didn’t look back. You didn’t know if you could say this while looking at him. “I think it would’ve ended up like this, anyway. I was his wife, not his keeper, but that didn’t matter. My love for him would’ve always made me stay and look after him, even though it kills me inside, even though I think I died a long time ago.” You swallowed. “My mother used to tell me to watch how boys treat me, but Nik wasn’t just any boy. I was so enthralled by the beauty of the fire that I didn’t care if I’d get burned- God, I just wanted to feel warm.” Unknowingly, a tear fell down your cheek. At that moment, you turned to your brother to see him watching you intently. You shook your head, giving him a small smile. “It wasn’t your fault, Elijah, it was mine. I should’ve known better.”

At that, you got up, leaving the bottle with Elijah, and you walked back to your room. You didn’t sleep that night, but when Hope came running into your room in the morning, screaming that Santa came, you pretended to be asleep so that she could wake you.

You sat through the opening of presents, Elijah looking at you differently than before. And you’d sit through multiple Christmases after this one.

No matter how much it hurt you or how it unhealthy it was, you knew you were locked in now, and you threw away the key ages ago. You couldn’t get off this ride, not even if you tried to. 

Maybe, if you didn’t let Klaus pull you back in time and time again, then you wouldn’t be stuck. But you did, and now all you could do was just sit and let the roller coaster run its course, no matter how sick it made you or how many tears would leave your eyes when no one was watching.

Now, you’d be here always and forever. But you still couldn’t help but think-

You should’ve known better.

Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade

#klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson #tvdu #tvd #the originals #the vampire diaries #angst #angsty imagine #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaelson angst #klaus mikaelson fanfic #tvd fanfiction #tvd fandom #tvd x reader #the originals x reader #always and forever #the mikaelsons #mikaelsons x reader #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikealson x reader #kol mikealson x reader #marcel gerard x reader #hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #marcel gerard #hayley marshall

[tismrot]

The uwu-fication of Good Omens

I’m not saying this to piss on anyone’s parade, everyone can like whatever they want and I realize that people who are perhaps… not experienced in traumatic adult relationships and/or aren’t bitter remnants of whatever ray of light they were supposed to be - I realize their fiction will probably be (for lack of better words)… light and easy.

I also realize that due to the collective heartbreak we’ve experienced after the end of season 2, a little fluff is perhaps needed. Again, not defecating on any crowds - but, like, we did watch the same show, right?

There are some REALLY good meta out there, as well as some fics and some art that really captures the essence of both Crowley and Aziraphale, and the context they struggle within.

…And then there are fics and art/comics where particularly Crowley is reduced to this very tsundere, cranky-despite-secretly-affectionate anime character who blushes and gets ✨ve-y angy✨ whenever he gets a kiss on his cheek or something and I’m like… okay? But. That’s not Crowley, is it? (Yes, you can make him into a hemipened waifu pillow for all I care, go do what makes you happy) - it’s just… You know?

Crowley and Aziraphale are (despite their celestial origins) - at their core - two middle aged, closeted, homosexual men who used to work for two equally oppressive, evil and incompetent fascist governments. That’s why they meet on the benches in the park, like all the other agents sent from other oppressive nations and agencies. The book was written during the last years of the cold war, and during the height of the AIDS crisis. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the first meds for HIV came in 1992 - being gay and being seen with the enemy could bring about equally terrifying death sentences. Yet, they do their best to thwart their Cold War, and then, the nuclear apocalypse.

After barely succeeding, they become as close as they dare to be, and they both know they love each other. Of course they do. That’s why Crowley wants them to stop pretending they don’t. He already assumes Aziraphale knows, because HE DOES KNOW.

Crowley isn’t (canonically) an uwu angy tsundere snek. He is a miserable ex-agent screaming at his closeted, gay lover for refusing to run away with him after 6000 years of war. Crowley is the opposite of tsundere, he is an open, aching wound.

Aziraphale isn’t a kawaii angel cup of hot chocolate, he is a desperate and scared idealist who is threatened into compliance by Great Leader, and who secretly wants nothing more than to let go of all propriety and just allow himself to be happy and freely experience life and love with the man he’s wanted all along, far from all oppression both from society and Heaven.

You guys, this is a story about fighting oppression for love. I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same side.

And perhaps I’m just old, perhaps my experiences with multiple failed relationships, friendships and my own fallen idealism tints my glasses… But I feel a certain way about all the uwu. I’m sorry. Do uwu if you want. I’m gonna focus on the OPPRESSION, because - apparently - that’s the wall my socks stick to.

And yeah, I know this is very old man yells at cloud. Younger people (or people who just aren’t exactly like me) seeing this show or reading the book deserve the right to play around with it, just like I do. I know, I know, I know. I just needed to say this. Slay me if you must.

End of rant. Thank you for coming to my depression.

EDIT: Yes, I made the Avril Lavigne thing further down. Yes, I am a hypocrite. I’ve made my peace with this.

#aziraphale x crowley #crowley #crowley edits #crowley x aziraphale #good omens 2 #ineffable divorce #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #innefable husbands #good omens fandom

[artandshid]

*found this in my drafts and i was prob heartbroken when I read this lmaooo*

Eddie Munson didn’t do girlfriends, he didn’t do love outside of the platonic kind for that matter. Eddie loved girls, he loved sex, but the romantic bullshit just wasn’t for him. He didn’t have the money to pay for expensive dates, he didn’t have the maturity for a real relationship, and he didn’t even have anyone to bring a significant other home to. He had no family, I mean sure he had Uncle Wayne and Wayne was a great guy. But Wayne worked a lot and he was often grumpy when he came back from work, not the friendliest guy to meet. As a matter of fact, the only person in Eddie’s life who met Wayne was Y/n.

Y/n was someone very dear to Eddie. Y/n was Eddie’s fuck buddy, the girl that maybe he loved a little more than platonically, but most of all, Y/n was Eddie’s best friend.

The whole fuck buddy thing started after a horrible hookup on her end, and Eddie was certain that he could be better than whatever scumbag she went out with that night, and he was. He would never admit how proud he was of that, though.

Eddie is slightly aware of his feelings for his best friend, he’d never tell her, but he would be lying if he said her presence doesn’t make him feel better. That the sight of her doesn’t just have him turned on, but brings him a sense of inner peace. He knows what these feelings are, but he also knows that they’re wrong. People like Eddie don’t deserve to feel those feelings, especially towards someone as great as Y/n. So he’s just letting them be for now, because he knows that she’ll find better eventually and he’s going to be okay with that, because having her as his best friend is good enough.

“Oh fuck Eddie.” Y/n moans from underneath him, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Eddie rocks above her, panting and moaning the entire time. “Fuck babe I’m close, so fucking close. Oh shit, here I come babe.” He says as his eyes squeeze shut and he fucks his orgasm into her, her climax quickly approaching.

He pulls out and rolls next to her, both of them panting. They make eye contact and smile, both of their stomachs doing flips, neither one knowing about the other.

“We did good, huh?” Eddie says jokingly and pulls a cigarette out, offering her one, which she happily takes.

Y/n laughs out loud and lightly hits his chest, “Shut up.”

“No I’m serious, that was one of our best rounds yet.”

She laughs again, but slowly goes into a trance.

Eddie lightly shakes her shoulder, “What’s wrong y/n/n?”

You look him in the eyes and Eddie gulps, “Eds, I think I’m in love with you.”

Eddie freezes, even though he’s in love with you, he also knows that your feelings aren’t real. Maybe you guys have slept with each other too many times that you’re just getting confused. But you can’t love him and you can’t be in love with him. You’re far too good for him.

“Eddie please say something. Please tell me you feel the same way.”She now has tears in her eyes knowing that she’s going to lose him.

“Y/n, baby, you know I can’t. I’m sorry, but you’ve known me for how long, I’m not a relationship guy.” He says and he shrugs you off.

You look at him incredulously. To not reciprocate feelings is one thing, but to completely blow you off by saying ‘i’m not a relationship” guy after all of your history together, is what makes you mad. And the tone he said it in, too, like an arrogant prick.

“So that’s that? You can’t say anything else.” She says with tears now streaming down her face.

Eddie is feeling a lot of things right now and that’s never good. When he feels too much he gets overwhelmed and deals with it by being angry. He’s never been angry at her before, though, but seeing her cry, mixed with her “confession” and he’s still dealing with his feelings for her, Eddie is feeling more than overwhelmed.

“What else do you want me to fucking say? You’ve known me for how many fucking years? Never once have I done relationships, and you’re no fucking different. What did you think just because we have a bit of history it would make any difference.” He yells at her, taking another puff of his cigarette trying to calm his nerves.

“‘A bit of history’ is that what your chalking up our years of friendship to now? You never act like this with me, and I try to be honest with you and you just lash out on me? I’m your best friend, not some asshole at school, try treating me with a little respect.” She says, finally putting her clothes back on while he stay naked under the covers. Even with the clothes covering her, she’s never felt more exposed in her life.

“Respect?!” Eddie laughs out loud. “I just had you a moaning mess underneath me and you’re demanding respect?” He instantly regrets saying this at the pain on her face, but again, he won’t let her see that.

“You are such a selfish dick, I’m leaving.” She says and starts walking out with tears and mascara streaking her face.

“I may be selfish, but at least I didn’t sleep with my best friend and catch feelings, ruining years of friendship!” He yelled back even though she’s already almost out the front door. Now he’s not only selfish, but a selfish liar.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x you #best friend! eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut

[sports-on-sundays]

and I can change / CL16 / Part 2

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - Charles would do anything to convince you to forgive him. He'd do anything to revive his family.

Warnings: Again, Y/s/n is 'your son's name'. And again, his age is unspecified- you decide what you think. crying (LOTS of crying), mention of drunkenness, mention of sex, mention of cheating, broken relationships, broken family, censored cussing

Requested?: Yeah! Requested by some sweet souls who read part 1! @barcelonaloverf1life @architect-2015 @emz2092 @cilliansgirl @lunamelona @lightdragonrayne @leclercgirl16

Author's Note: You guys asked for it, so I gave it! I hope you enjoy! Same song as inspiration. Also I'm thinking after this part I'll write a part 3, and then after that maybe a little epilogue, to wrap this up. Tell me what you think. Also, this is the link to part 1 / and the link to part 3

"Y/n, people change.

"And I can change, too."

You lay on your bed, engulfed in the darkness of the room surrounding you. The darkness seems to go deeper than just your surroundings- deeper, and into you.

Over and over the scene plays through your mind. Those words that Charles had uttered. The way he had clutched your hand in both of his, as if it were his only lifeline. In that moment, the desperation his eyes had denoted was incredible.

Charles, why? Why couldn't you let go? You're making it all so much more complicated.

But you know what he would say. Why? Why, Y/n? Because this isn't just about myself. Don't you see the brokenness in our son? Don't you see it?

Guilt washes over you, and then rage.

I shouldn't be the one feeling guilt. He should. He's the one who messed up our family. He's the one who's fault it is!

The way he cried, though.

The desperation.

The thing is that he is feeling guilty. Or at least so it seemed.

But does he really deserve a second chance? Do you?

Your phone rings at 12:00 A.M. On the dot. Charles has always been on the dot. Unless he's drunk, that is.

Why is he calling?

Right when I'm thinking about him, too.

Although this really isn't too surprising, when you consider it. For the past week and a half or so, you've stayed up until roughly 2:00 in the morning, staring at the ceiling, thinking, unable to convince yourself into peace and slumber.

And now a call comes.

Charles, why?

It feels terrible as you answer. "Charles. Don't call me."

"Y/n," he says in a calm voice. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" you snap, trying to keep it down. Your son is sleeping (hopefully) in the next room.

"For reacting so emotionally. I'm sorry. For years this has weighed on me, but crying and begging won't get us anywhere."

"We're not going anywhere, whether you cry and beg or not." You hang up.

A month after that call where you rejected Charles for what you hoped would be the last time, there's a knock on the door on a Saturday. You walk to it, and freeze when you look through the peephole.

Why is Charles Leclerc here?

Anxiety hits you. The house is a mess, you've got no food to give him, you look like a mess in your pajamas and unbrushed hair-

How can he just show up at your door like this?

It's obnoxious.

You honestly are about to pretend you aren't home, but then Y/s/n suddenly runs in, squealing, "Mama, who is it?! Is it the mailman?"

You sigh at your son's strange fascination for the mailman. You're not completely sure why he enjoys the young, dry, monotone mailman, and for years just assumed because he was generally a nice bloke, and little kids are weird, until you realized with an ounce of dread that the mailman resembles Charles, in a way. After that, you've never encouraged his enthusiasm for the mailman, just in case that was the reason, whether conscious or not.

"No, no," you sigh, unlocking the door. "It's not the mailman, love."

"Who is it, Mama?"

As you swing the door open, you murmur, "Well, love, none other but your father."

"Daddy!" the little boy, still in his Lightning McQueen pajamas, squeals, running to hug his father. You glance away, staring at the floor.

Charles hugs your son, kissing him, and exclaims, "Aw, there's my little buddy! How are you, man?"

"I'm good, Daddy! Are you coming to live here now, Daddy?!"

"Ugh- Not quite..." He picks up your son, and looks to you, immediately saying, "Sorry it's such short notice."

You grit your teeth, murmuring, "You mean no notice?"

"Right," he nods with a quick exhale.

While the presence of your son is a burden for you, preventing you from showing your true feelings, it may be an advantage for Charles, to get across what he needs to get across. Whatever that may be.

Because this is all just a game. Everyone with their own different motives. Y/s/n wants Mama and Daddy to love each other because he wants one place to live. Charles' motives are unknown, but probably are just manipulative and selfish- about making himself feel better. And your motive? You don't want to relive the past, so will avoid Charles at all costs.

Charles' and Y/s/n's motives align more with each other than your's.

You look at your son. Who you love so much. He looks at you with hope. Charles looks at you with... a very similar expression.

These two.

How can you love one and hate the other?

They're both family, as much as you hate to admit it. Because one of them, you wish you could erase.

No. But you don't. Because if you'd never met Charles, Y/s/n would never have been born. And you can't even begin to imagine your life without him.

You hold the door open, and gesture to the couch. "Sit down, Charles. I'm going to get dressed, and then put the kettle on." You say all this through gritted teeth.

How can he just walk in as if he owns the place?

He nods. "Thank you, Y/n." You watch in the doorway to the hall as Charles sits down on the couch with his son on his lap. You watch as he says softly, picking up a toy car from off the rug, "This car is awesome, Y/s/n. Where'd you get it?"

"Mama got it for me! For my birthday!" Y/s/n takes it from his father's hand with much pride, and starts driving it across Charles' chest, up onto his neck, and eventually onto his cheeks. The whole time, Charles laughs, his hand on his son's back to keep him from tipping off his lap.

"That's a super cool car. Does it have a name?"

"Uhhh," Y/s/n frowns. "Zoom! Because he goes zooooom!"

"Oh, it's a he?"

"Of course," Y/s/n says, as if this fact should be obvious. Then he giggles, "Because girls smell."

"They smell?! No way. Girls don't smell."

"Yeah, they do," he crosses his arms, frowning at his father. "You don't know any girls. You only know... Uh, Cah-los."

Charles laughs out loud. "The only person I know is 'Cah-los'?"

"Yep! And Uncle Arthur and Uncle Lorenzo, but that's it!" your son claims in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Their conversation continues, but you finally turn to leave and get yourself fixed up. You quickly shower, brush your teeth and hair, put on moisturizing cream, perfume, and deodorant, and put on a beige hoodie, grey sweatpants, and slides, before going to make tea. The whole time, you mind swirls.

Why is he here? Why is he here on a Saturday? Why is he here, without even asking to come? It's so... obnoxious.

You finish making two cups of tea, finding with awe as you make them that you remember exactly the way Charles likes his tea, and you're doing it automatically.

Because I used to do this so much.

You walk back in with the tea and see the two boys sitting on the rug now. Charles is tickling Y/s/n's tummy, and both of them are laughing- Charles with more of a chuckle and Y/s/n with more of a squealing giggle. When Charles sees you, he slowly stops, saying with a little sigh, "Alright, bud. Mama's back with my tea, and I mean to drink it."

"But Daddyyy!"

"Nope!" he grins, standing up, ruffling his son's messy hair. He then walks to you, and you hand him his tea. He lights up when he tastes the tea and looks at you, muttering softly, "My God, you remembered how I like my tea...?"

"Don't jump to sh*t, Charles," you murmur, soft enough for Y/s/n not to hear.

"Right," he sighs, sitting down again on the couch.

You set your tea down, walking to your son. "Alright, love. I want you to go in your room now, okay? Remember the Lego plane you were building? Why don't you work on that? I want to see it once it's finished, okay? And if you need anything, call, okay? Don't come in here. Just call, and one of us will come."

He looks questioningly. "Why, Mama?"

"Me and your father have important things to talk about. And if you don't listen, there will be consequences."

He blinks, pouting.

"I'll turn on your storybook audio for you. Come on." You bring him to his room and get him set up, until you're sure he's completely distracted with the Legos and the storybook. Only then do you come back to the living room and sit down awkwardly next to Charles.

He's still wearing his red windbreaker from when he was outside, and a black scarf hangs loose around his neck. His hair is a bit messed up, but he looks perfect, like always.

Too perfect.

"Let me take your scarf and jacket. And your shoes."

"Right," he says with a swift nod, handing you his scarf, coat, and sleek black boots. You put them by the door, and sit down, viewing the cozy grey sweater adorning his frame. You have a passing thought, considering how much unnecessary money he might have spent on such a garment.

"So?" you ask in a tense voice. "What is this all about, Charles?"

"There are some things we need to work out. You're right- one of the many things I've done wrong to you is always being a f*cking coward. You're right. I didn't say what was on my mind, and I faked it, and I kept quiet, because I didn't want to upset you. But now I see that the only thing I can do now is speak up, be honest, and be a man. You rightfully left me because I wasn't being a proper man. I wasn't being your proper man. I was being a terrible husband and a terrible father. But now we need to uncover what's true- we both have different views, both of which are likely exaggerated or incorrect in different ways."

"I don't care, Charles," you say quickly, flat out trying to ignore his admittance to wrong. Perhaps because you don't want it to be true. Because if he's sorry, that means you have to forgive him.

"So you're telling me you'd rather believe lies, just because it makes you feel better? What kind of thinking is that?"

You hate to admit that he's right. So you say nothing.

There's silence. But then he says, "So tell me what happened."

"You know what happen-"

"Tell me, Y/n." His voice isn't rude, but definitely firm.

You swallow, shaking your head. You don't want to work this out. You want to forget Charles. But clearly, that's impossible. "You were irresponsible. You'd get drunk, never be home, never help me. I'd be all on my own... You... You'd use me for your own pleasure but never show true, selfless love... Then you came home drunk saying stuff about a pretty woman and sex and getting pregnant... So you cheated... And I divorced you because I couldn't take it any more." You can't believe it, but you're trying not to choke up as you whisper, "Charles, what we had seemed perfect. Until you messed it up." Your mouth tastes like poison.

Charles stares down, his eyes swirling with everything but empty, at the same time. "Y/n," he whispers. "I was terrible. You're right. I was never around because I was immature and scared. I didn't understand. To get away from it, I drank and had fun with friends."

Your lip curls. "You're not the victim."

"And I never said I was! I was scared of being a father. I was scared of messing up. I wasn't ready and I let everything happen too quickly. I was a coward and I left you. Even though you divorced me, I was the one who left you. That's what happened. I was stupid. I was a terrible person. It's all my fault."

"Why would you be any different now? There's no way for you to prove that. Before the marriage you were fine. It was when we married that you went downhill. It was like... you couldn't stand me."

He looks torn apart. "I loved you. I... I... I still do. I knew I wasn't being a good husband or father and to forget about it, I drank."

"And why wouldn't you still do it now?!"

"Because I don't. I feel more guilt now than I did then! I feel more responsibility now than I did then! And that was my greatest fear! Responsibility! But now I don't drink excessively! Now I don't avoid reality! Because I need you... Our son needs us. Together. Don't you need me?"

"Not the you I know."

"You don't know me anymore. I'm not the same person I was." His voice is so uncommonly firm, it slightly shocks you.

You stare into each other's eyes.

He goes on, "That night, I didn't cheat. I was intoxicated. A young woman was trying to seduce me, but I refused because I had you. You, my beautiful wife, both inside and out. I wanted to convey to you that I said no because you were my wife. However, I failed to communicate this properly, and the next morning, I had completely forgotten the conversation. I chose not to tell you because I thought it would be better if you didn't know. I was afraid you would be angrier with me for being in that situation. I was a coward, and I didn't want you to be upset with me. I didn't realize for years that you believed I had cheated. If I had known, I would have assured you that I didn't cheat, just like I am doing now, and that I never would. Because I didn't. Despite all the mistakes I made, cheating on you is something I would never, ever do. I have always loved you, and only you, far too much for that."

Your hands tremble in your lap as you stare at him, listening.

Now you're the one getting emotional.

Charles leans in close to you- too close for comfort- and whispers, "I've changed... Please. I just want a second chance... To right my wrongs and give you and our son the lives you deserve. I need to give my all to you... I need to make it up to you... It's... It's crushing me."

"Why do you need a second chance?" Your voice, for once, isn't aggressive. It's gentle. Softer. Your voice cracks as you say, "You should have done it right the first time."

You see him swallow. "And you know what? I didn't. I f*cked up. I f*cked up everything. I f*cked up your life and I know it. I'm sorry. I wish I could go back in time and fix it and make it all better. I was stupid, Y/n. I was terrible. I hurt the most beautiful woman and her baby in the world. I'm the least." He takes your hand again in both his, but this time it's a gentler grasp.

"But you're not. You're famous. You have so many fans."

"Do you know how many times I've thought I don't deserve all this? If only I could share it all with you."

"Charles," your voice cracks again, and an unexpected, terrible longing fills you. "I want to believe you, but I can't. I'm broken, Charles, because of you. I can't afford to let you break me again..."

A tear rolls down your cheeks, and immediately he reaches up with his thumb, gently wiping your cheek, "No, Y/n, please don't cry... I don't want you to cry because of me any longer... Please..."

"Charles, I can't do this..." more tears fall.

There's hurt and confusion, but mostly longing and guilt in his eyes. "Please... If you'd only trust me, then we could make this right. I could make this right, after all I did wrong."

You can hardly believe yourself as you let your broken, silently crying self fall into Charles. You allow yourself to rest your head on his shoulder, and you allow his arms to wrap around you, giving you his warmth. "Charles..."

"Yes...?" There's a painful hope in his voice.

"I don't know if I can do this..." you cry into his shoulder now.

He whispers right in your ear, "Just give me a chance. Let me be there for you... Let me prove to you... Let me..."

You can't give him a yes or a no. Two sides war inside you- the mask and the face. You feel him stroke your hair as you cry, at the same time as remembering stroking his hair when he was drunk and needed comfort.

This is some sort of paradox, isn't it?

"Charles," you murmur, leaning away after you've gained control of yourself. "The answer is 'I don't know' right now, okay... Consider it... better than hating your guts with an adamant 'no.'"

As he gazes into your eyes, he leans closer. Softly, he places a tender kiss on your cheek and whispers, "I'll be ready whenever you are. And I'll never, ever stop waiting for you."

Weeks pass, and Charles can't understand why, after all that happened that day, still you insist on avoiding him like the plague.

Well, the reason is just that- avoidance. You're avoiding Charles because you don't want to face the possible truth. You're avoiding him because you don't want to make big decisions. You don't want to try again. You don't want to...

Well, you don't want to fall in love again.

And on that day, the way he treated you...

It reminded you of the man you married, and not the man you divorced.

And that scares you. Because you'll never forget the man you divorced.

So you're stubborn and resistent, and you're avoiding him.

So you sit, staring at the screen of your cell phone. Rereading the text on it. Over and over.

Charles Leclerc: I'm sorry for such a long text Y/n but you probably won't read it anyway, so what does it matter? I need to talk with you and you're doing exactly what I've done, what I'm apologizing for. For years I avoided this stuff and one of the reasons we split was that i couldn't stand up and address and tell you my problems. I was being a f*cking coward. And I've said sorry more times than I can count. I thought you might be on the road to forgiveness, to giving me a second chance. I know you felt the same way as me when you leaned into me and let me hold you when you cried- there's something more here, and I don't want you to ignore this. Can't we just try this? Please Y/n? I'm finally willing to step up, be a man, work through all this sh*t with you. Talk about it. I'm finally willing to be brave, and as soon as I am, you're doing the same thing you've yelled at me for years for doing- staying silent.

Charles Leclerc: I love you, Y/n, and this is a problem I desperately want to fix, but the truth of the matter is that you're being a f*cking hypocrite.

Me: How does it feel to be in the position you put me in for years?

You feel mean for typing that, and you're not sure how much you mean it. Maybe you meant to be kinder.

But the anger took over and your thumbs did the talking.

Charles leaves that message on read.

You sit in the cold metal chair, surrounded by pudgy, middle-aged parents and their gross kids all around you as a lone young mother sitting by herself. You're only here to see your son, and none of the other aspects of this situation bring you an ounce of joy.

All of a sudden, a shiver runs down your spine as a firm hand gently lands on your shoulder. Your head snaps up, meeting the gaze of Charles Leclerc. A look of disdain crosses your face, causing your heart to ache as you bluntly ask, "Why are you here?"

Charles takes a seat beside you in the vacant chair and casually remarks, "I've come to attend my son's school concert. And you?" A glimmer of amusement dances in his eyes.

Your jaw tightens in pure irritation, and you manage through gritted teeth in a tense, quiet tone, "Why did you choose to sit next to me?"

Charles hesitates, his expression softening, as he makes an effort to hold your gaze. "Well... Because I..." He swallows and says, "I'm not going to give up on you. That's why. So I figured I'd sit down next to you to watch my- our- son's concert. So..." Abruptly, he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The veins in his hand are visible as he clasps yours tightly.

Your muscles tense, yet for some reason, you don't pull your hand away.

So throughout the whole school concert, Charles sits, gripping your hand, and seems to refuse to let it go.

And the moment the teacher is done on stage after the little production, thanking people for helping and the kids for doing such a great job and other stuff you don't listen to, Charles turns to you and says, "So, we have some minutes to spare."

Your eyebrows scrunch together. "Come again?"

He chuckles, but it doesn't feel called for. "You weren't listening to her? She said the students can be picked up from their classrooms by their parents in fifteen minutes."

Your jaw clenches again. "Charles, why?"

"Because I know you want it," he says incredibly earnestly. The inside of your heart melts as the outside hardens.

"But I don't think I do."

"But I know you do. Now come on." Your ex-husband stand up, pulling you up with him.

"Where are we going?" you ask. "And please let go of my hand. You've been holding it so long, it's starting to get sweaty."

He clicks his tongue and doesn't respond to either of these, then guides you down various hallways until you reach the school's exit. Finally, he sits down with you on a bench outside the school, and releases your hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Let's just hang out here for the next ten minutes, okay? We should talk," he says awkwardly, facing you.

"I don't get it. Charles, there's nothing you can do to-"

Charles interrupts, holding your face gently, gazing into your eyes. "Please, don't. Don't say that," he pleads, his thumb brushing your cheek. "There's something we can do. We can make this work... Please..."

His desperation, his begging, makes you want to cry. "Please just let it go... Let me go..."

"No, I don't want you to be trapped... Don't you see you'll be more free with me? You won't have to work as hard.. I'll take care of you and our son... I'll take half the work in the house you have to deal with... I'll... We'll... I just want you to believe that we'll be happier... I'm not saying we need to jump to anything today. I'm just saying, let's be kind to each other... Let's go out to eat sometimes, or go to our son's events together. Let's act just a little bit more like a family, even if we aren't yet. I just want to- I need to- I- I- I..." He trails off. His hands fall off your cheeks, and his shoulders slack. His head goes down.

It's like just the hard look in your eyes alone crushed him.

Like that alone is the huge weight he's bearing.

"F*** me, Y/n... F*** me," he whispers, his hands in his lap trembling. "I don't deserve you. I hurt you. Doesn't matter how much I changed. I still have to live through the consequences of my actions, don't I?" He seems to be talking more to himself, but you have no idea at this point. "Just f*** me." He exhales shakily, before suddenly standing up. He stares you right in your eyes, and your heart breaks when you see the hurt, the destroyed desperation. "It's fine, Y/n." He's trying to keep a level face. But his voice cracks. "I'll leave you alone. I'll let you go. I can see all this is just hurting you more. I never meant to hurt you more. I never meant to bring up the past to hurt you. I wanted to help you... I wanted to help you heal..." He drags a hand over his face. "But clearly I f***ing didn't. Clearly I messed it up again. I f***ing messed up again." He swallows. His eyes glimmer with wetness as he practically whispers, "The last thing I want is to hurt you. So I'll drop it. I'm just being selfish again, aren't I? I think this would be better, but you don't. And that's hurting you. And I never wanted to..." He swallows, his nose crunching up. Suddenly he yells, "I never wanted to hurt you ever again, because I love you, for f***'s sake! I love you, but I did hurt you, because, in the end, no matter what, I'm going to f*** it up anyway! So bye, Y/n!" Suddenly he turns on his feet. Like he doesn't want you to see him cry again. But you can hear the tears in his voice when the last thing he calls back is, "It will go back to normal, and we can pretend none of this ever happened! Pretend I'm a stranger! It's the best for you, anyway, apparently, and all I wanted was the best for you!"

You stare in shock as you watch him get in his car and drive away. You remain seated, gaze straight ahead. Tears well up in your eyes, and your body quivers, yet you manage to compose yourself, rise on unsteady legs, and compel yourself to return to the school to pick up your son.

But that just wasn't right.

I should have stopped him. I should have called him back. I should've.

How far can revenge go before it's gone too far?

For days, the guilt, the hurt, the rue- they weigh on you. Every moment of your days, it consumes your thoughts. Regret and confusion and anger fill you in every step, engulfing your every move. And if you thought you weren't getting any sleep before, now it's even worse.

You long to fix it, but you are unsure of how. Despite everything... You can't see how Charles isn't being honest. You want to have faith in him. A small part of you may even want to love him, just a little bit.

You're also fearful. Fearful of reaching out to him, because you don't know what you'd do. You have no idea.

But now you're dropping your son off at Charles's house. You swallow, and suddenly, on a whim, when you see Charles walking outside, waiting for Y/s/n, you get out of the car, too.

"Mama?" your son asks with a confused expression, still maintaining a little smile on his face.

You smile back down at him and say, "I'm walking you up to your daddy's house today, is all."

He shrug and nods, apparently accepting this.

He's such a good kid.

As you approach Charles, your smile twitches while you study him, but you say softly, "Hey, um... I... We..." Your tone sounds weak.

"Yes?" Charles asks, looking up. He looks perfect. As always.

Your eyes lock.

Please, Charles. I don't know how to say this. Please just understand.

His eyes remain blank. You let out a sigh.

And suddenly, you hug him.

Charles seems taken aback for only a moment, before he immediately hugs you back and says softly, "Hey... Want to come inside with me and Y/s/n?"

You nod. "Yes... Yes, please."

So Charles leads the two of you up to his flat. You sit down together on the couch, once again.

Last time you did this was the moment Charles cried out to you.

"Y/n, people change."

You swallow at the memory.

Is this another paradox? This time, will I be the one crying out to him?

Y/s/n is about to hop on the couch between you, but suddenly Charles scoops him up and says, "Hey, hey! I didn't get my hug from you yet, did I?!"

Your son giggles, getting comfortable on his father's lap, before giving him a big hug. "I scored a goal, Daddy..."

"You scored a goal?!" he grins. "Seriously?"

"Yeah! Mama cheered me on! I scored a goal when I played football!"

Charles looks so bright. Happy with his son. So proud. He doesn't get to see him as often as you do. "No way. You've got to be joking. Was it the winning goal?"

"Yep!" your son says proudly.

You find yourself smiling.

"Oh yeah, what was the score?"

Your son shrugs. "Dunno! But we won!"

You smile and mutter softly, "I think it was 4-1." Y/s/n plays in the little league team affiliated with his school.

"Yeah, but my goal made it 2-1, so I won it," he brags to his father.

Charles grins. "Oh, I'm sure it did. You know, I don't know where you got that talent for football from. Do you think Mama is good at football?"

Your son just shrugs with a grin, enjoying the affirmation from his father. "Dunno! But Mama is good at cuddling and playing with me."

Charles laughs. "Yeah, your mama takes good care of you." He glances at you with sparkling eyes, before looking back down at his son.

The two continue babbling on about sports and football and what not, until Charles finally ruffles his son's hair and says, "Well, buddy, I reckon it's time for me and Mama to have some alone time."

Y/s/n frowns. "Aw, why?"

"Because I want to talk with Mama about things that you won't care about. Boring grown-up stuff. Doesn't sound very fun, does it?"

Y/s/n shrugs, still looking uncertain.

"Hey, don't look so down. How about this? I'll go put on Cars for you. How's that sound?"

Your son grins at this, immediately jumping up, his demeanor changing abruptly. "Yeah, yeah!" he squeals, and you watch as Charles leaves with him to go set him up with that in another room.

But soon Charles is back. He gently shuts the door behind him as he enters the room, and immediately sits down next to you, facing you once more. "Hey, Y/n..." he says in a tentative but gentle tone.

You swallow. "Hey, Charles..." You feel yourself getting nervous again. "You're so... You're so good with Y/s/n."

He smiles. "You are, too."

There's no, And I'm sure we'd be even better with him together.

Charles meant it when he said he'd give up on it.

But you move closer to him. You take his hands. "This is a lot for me, Charles. I'm scared. I'm having issues with trust."

He nods slowly. "I know... I know..."

You swallow, and hug him again.

He holds you, hugging you back. He kisses your cheek. He whispers, "I understand if you're afraid. I understand if you're scared, or if you're having issues with trust. I'm so deeply sorry I've broken you like that."

Y/n, people change. And I can change.

The words come crashing into your mind like a ton of bricks, emerging from the depths of your memory.

"Charles-" you break in, your voice cracking. "Those words have haunted me."

"What words...?" he mutters softly.

You swallow. Breathe slowly. And you whisper, "You said to me 'Y/n, people change. And I can change.'"

"I have changed," he whispers.

"But," your voice cracks. "You said a lot of other s***, too. I remember, during our honeymoon..." A tear rolls down your face as Charles continues to hold you. "You said I'm yours and you're mine. You said we'd be forever. You said you'd do anything for me. You said we'd have three kids together, and you'd never stop loving me, and we would be a happy family. You said we'd grow old together, Charles. That's what you said. But all those promises- they were broken... They were broken."

"You didn't want them to be," he whispers calmly. "But don't you realize? Perhaps those promises were not broken, but rather, they have just not yet been fulfilled."

You look up at him, blinking. More tears roll down your cheeks. Charles gently wipes them away.

"I want to be able to fix what I did wrong. I want to be able to fulfill those promises I made to you. That's what I want, Y/n."

"Charles..." you breathe.

He looks so perfect.

"Yes?" he asks gently.

Your lip quivers, and you lean into his shoulder, and you sob.

And he lets you.

For however long, he holds you there, rubbing your back, letting you weep. Finally, you get a hold of yourself, and slowly pull away. You wipe your wet eyes with the backs of your hands, before sighing. "Charles, if we were to do this... If I were to give in..." You sniff. Your voice cracks again as you utter, "Please, don't hurt me again. I can't survive it again. I can't let you put me through that again..."

He pulls you to him again and whispers in your ear, "I won't. I won't. I won't let you down this time. Please don't be afraid of me... I want to love you... Let me love you... If you'll just let me, we can fix this... We have have a relationship in which we communicate more. Oh, Y/n..." he sighs. "Don't you realize how much I care? I- I would give my life for you."

You blink, staring at him.

Everything looks so promising. That's why you're scared.

It almost looks too promising.

"You say you would give your life for me. But would you really? Maybe you would you give your life for me if it meant losing it. But would you give your life to me while you're still alive? Would you clean the dishes? Would you help me when I'm sick? Would you grab an extra ingredient from the store if I needed it? Would you drive Y/s/n to school when you could? Would you really? You're gone half the year, as it is."

His jaw clenches, then un-clenches. "I would do anything and everything I could do for you. I want to share my life for you. Until death. And I'm one hundred percent sure on that. I've had years of thinking about this." There's hope in his lovely eyes.

So much hope.

You sigh, staring down at your lap.

"Y/n. I'm sorry. Please. Not only do I need your forgiveness. But your son does, too." He hesitates. "And I hope you know no matter what happens, the guilt of what I've done to you will weigh on me my whole life. That's why I want to fix it."

You gently slip your hand in his and whisper, "Please don't hurt me."

He wraps his fingers around your hand, holding it. "I won't."

You nod slowly, another tear rolls down your cheek, and it feels like all the molecules in your body are being ripped apart as you barely whisper, "Okay, Charles. We can try this again."

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #formula1 #f1 x reader #sports-on-sundays #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles lecrelc #scuderia ferrari #arthur leclerc #leclerc #carlos sainz #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fan fic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fan fiction #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 x you

[heartsforhavik]

mk1 men x reader hcs (fanfic tropes edition)

pairings: havik, johnny cage, kung lao, raiden, rain, syzoth, shang tsung, smoke x reader (all separate)

warnings: slight angst in havik’s bc his past is damn sad. slight gore in shang tsung’s. slight spoilers for mk1 story mode. reader is gender neutral in all.

summary: sfw headcanons of you and the mk1 men but with common fanfic tropes (only one bed, coffee shop, enemies to lovers, etc)

a/n: this. took. 6 hours. i was gonna put baraka, reiko, liu kang, and bi-han, but they didn’t make the cut lol. also if anyone wants, i can turn any of these into full fics. all u gotta do is request it!!

havik: only one bed

- you and havik were very close. you knew each other pretty well, but that’s about it. you were never more than friends, even if you wish you were. even if your banter together suggests to be more than friends, you usually assume it’s just a joke.

- until you both had to take shelter in an abandoned house. you were on the run, trying to escape the soldiers in sun do chasing you both down.

- what you didn’t know was that there was only one bed inside.

- “you may rest on the bed. i can just rest on the floor or keep watch.” havik offered.

- “no, you deserve rest too. we’ve had a long day. you should sleep.” you told him.

- havik sighed. “there is no point in arguing. perhaps we can share?”

- the idea made you a bit flustered, but you were not against it one bit. you found havik attractive, and you respected him like he respected you. but the idea of sharing the same bed is so… intimate. it’s like he trusted you enough to be beside you while he slept. it was flattering.

- you agreed to his offer, and crawled to opposite sides of the bed. he had his back turned to you, and you could clearly see his back muscles and his biceps in the dim light crawling through the window. thank god the moon was bright, so you can clearly look at him.

- you were so close. it was almost embarrassing how you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. you were basically ogling at him while he slept.

- but you snapped out of it and you slowly succumbed to sleep, not knowing havik was awake the whole time.

- havik tossed and turned, he couldn’t stop thinking about how you felt comfortable enough to be next to him while you slept. you’re so vulnerable. you looked so peaceful and delicate while you slept. usually he’d refuse to go to sleep since he doesn’t really need to, but he wanted to take the opportunity to be close to you.

- he’s a stubborn guy, always wanting revenge for his past in seido. he’s bitter. he’s angry. he wants freedom for other seidans like him. he craves liberation and to bless others lives with anarchy. but it’s in times like these when he can finally relax. when he can just sigh in contentment, and sit next to you as you slept.

- you looked so happy as his ally, having the freedom to do what you want. havik sees you as a symbol of what life can look like for others. surely if you’re happy and free, other people can be too?

- he also knew he had feelings for you. he tried to push them away and pretend you were just allies, because he wants to focus on his pursuit to liberation. but someday.. someday when he achieves said liberation… he’ll confess his feelings. someday, havik will finally feel safe enough to be vulnerable with someone for the first time after years of being a slave. and if he had to be vulnerable with anyone in all the realms, it’d be you. someday.

johnny cage: fake relationship

- you were a famous actor. you weren’t incredibly famous or anything, but you were definitely well-known.

- one day at another actor’s party, you happened to meet johnny cage.

- “did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” johnny flirted, giving you a wink.

- you both got along for a few hours, laughing and talking as if you were old friends. you even gave him your number with no hesitation.

- but what you didn’t know was that somebody took photos of you two and posted them online. and the internet started assuming you were a couple because of how happy you both looked.

- your names were trending on twitter and fans everywhere were hoping you were a real couple.

- then, johnny himself texted you, proposing that you both went along with it and pretended to be a couple. you agreed, of course.

- so for the next few weeks, you both went to visit each other frequently and got ‘caught’ by the paparazzi many times. pictures and videos of you two were everywhere. you and johnny had lots of fun together going through the edits and fan accounts that were already made.

- but, you were secretly really enjoying the ‘fake’ relationship you two had. you actually wanted him for real. you didn’t know that he was doing the same.

- you found out one day when you were at his mansion for the thousandth time. he took a quick bathroom break and you wanted to scare him when he came back, so you hid somewhere he couldn’t see you. but you happened to overhear a phone call between him and his friend.

- “i’m telling you kenshi, this one is special. i really like them. a lot. i don’t think i want our relationship to be fake anymore. they’re just so understanding, and fun, and hot! but i don’t know. i don’t know if they like me too.” johnny admitted over a call.

- you were shocked. he actually had feelings for you too. you immediately came out of your hiding spot and confronted him.

- “oh shit. you heard that?!” johnny cursed.

- but his panic died down as soon as you admitted your feelings too. neither of you admitted your relationship was fake at first, but neither of you cared about the media anymore. because your love is real and genuine now.

kung lao: coffee shop au

- there was a coffee shop you owned and worked at in your village.

- it was pretty successful, and you got quite a few customers every day. it wasn’t too exciting though. at least until kung lao walked in for the first time.

- he was immediately attracted to you at first sight.

- he and raiden had to find a different place to rest at after work that day, since madam bo’s was temporarily closed.

- kung lao walked inside, not expecting anything exciting. until he saw you behind the counter. your eyes sparkled and your smile grew when you greeted him and raiden, offering them a seat and asking them what they wanted to order. he couldn’t even think straight. he was so lost in your eyes.

- “what can i get you two?”

- “uh. um. uhhh… i’d like uh…. coffee?”

- “what kind?” you sweetly asked.

- “coffee.” he blurted.

- you didn’t know he liked you, you honestly thought he was just indecisive. you were very patient with him though, since you thought he was cute.

- raiden instantly saw how kung lao was speechless at the sight of you, and teased his friend about it.

- “you like them, huh?”

- “what? psh, no.. maybe… so?”

- raiden came up to you while you were making the coffee, and let you know about his friend’s interest.

- “i think kung lao has a bit of an interest in you… but you didn’t hear it from me!” raiden whispered.

- the cute guy in your shop had an interest in you? yeah, sure. you didn’t really believe him. but a part of you hoped it was true.

- kung lao took his sweet time in the shop, and stayed for hours before it closed. even after raiden left, he still stayed just to talk to you. he kept ordering coffee over and over so he had an excuse to stay.

- before it closed, you asked him how the coffee was. clearly he really liked it because of how much he ordered it, right?

- “actually… i’m not a fan of coffee. i just wanted to talk to you.” kung lao admitted.

- thankfully, his efforts did not go to waste. he left the shop with a big smile on his face and a napkin with your number on it. he was definitely going to visit the shop every day now.

- oh and also, he kept that napkin. even years into your relationship, he never threw it away.

raiden: childhood friends to lovers

- you and raiden were friends since you were children. you used to run around the fields of your village together and play games without a care in the world.

- you both remained friends all the way to adulthood, even though you didn’t get to talk often since you had moved away and you wrote letters to one another every now and then. but you decided to move back home one day.

- upon seeing how you look now, he was pleasantly surprised. you looked absolutely amazing.

- you decided to catch up with one another, still getting along and sharing stories and memories you had with each other. it’s almost as if you never left. you were even meeting up every day.

- “it’s almost as if you never left. you know, you look amazing.” raiden complimented.

- “thanks, raiden. you look great too! especially when you come back from a long day in the fields, i can clearly see some muscle there. you put in a lot of work, huh?” you teased, making him blush.

- “well, uh, i do my best. i know what i do makes the village thrive. but.. i didn’t know you noticed. and i didn’t know you were looking at my uh, muscles.” he replied, slightly exposing you.

- that pretty much continued for a few weeks, as you both were slightly flirting but neither of you actually made the first move. but one day, raiden finally gained the courage to confess to you.

- he woke up early that morning to freshen himself up and give himself a pep talk in front of his bathroom mirror.

- “okay, you can do this raiden. just tell them how you feel. can’t be that hard…” he told himself.

- he rushed to buy goods and some candy for you, preparing a basket full of it. he was ready to confess his feelings to you.

- he showed up at your doorstep, and raiden was thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong. maybe you were in a bad mood? maybe he bought too much candy? was he shaking? did his hair look nice?

- “raiden? what’s up?” you asked, answering the door.

- “listen, i uh.. i like you. a lot. i really enjoyed being your friend all these years, but i fell in love with you over these past few weeks. i couldn’t stop thinking of you pretty much every day, it was like i was put under a spell. but i suppose, in a way, i was. you have bewitched me body and soul. i haven’t felt this way for anyone before.” raiden admitted.

- he kind of rambled a bit, but you understood exactly what he meant. you felt the same way.

- raiden was extremely relieved that you reciprocated his feelings. you both went on to have a happy, safe relationship. you wouldn’t change it for the world.

rain: rivals to lovers

- rain was a mage. and so were you.

- however, he mastered the ways of water. you mastered fire. they don’t go together.

- “my water will put out your flames.” rain threatened.

- “oh no, a splash of water, i’m so scared.” you replied sarcastically.

- you both tried to one-up the other every time you saw each other, refusing to show weakness. you couldn’t even be in a room together without staring each other down the whole time.

- the longer you were rivals, the more tension there was between you. other people even assumed you were dating already.

- you both wanted to be the most powerful mage in outworld. you just couldn’t agree on anything. he was so annoying, wasn’t he? and the way he would stare at you at every chance he got. the way he always had his full attention on you. even the way he was so dedicated to arguing with you for months.

- until you two finally sparred together.

- “i am tired of you. please shut up.” rain groaned.

- “make me.” you threatened.

- “oh, i will.”

- then, you both ended up fighting for hours. it was an even match. neither of you wished to give up, but you were tired of fighting.

- “listen, rain.. i think we should just admit it’s a tie…” you said, panting between words.

- “you think?” rain sighed, as you both finally stopped fighting.

- you both took a moment to sit down and regain your energy in silence. comfortable silence.

- something was probably in the air, because you were suddenly not fighting. neither verbally nor physically. just.. enjoying each other’s company for the first time in months.

- “you’re… very strong.” rain mumbled.

- “oh? what was that? can you repeat that for me? i don’t think i heard you very clearly…” you teased.

- he rolled his eyes. “you heard me loud and clear.”

- you laughed. “yeah, i did. thanks, zeffeero. you’re pretty strong too. to be honest, i was kind of nervous for this fight. i know we always argue, but i still admire your skills… i guess.” you admitted.

- his eyes widened in surprise. “oh… thank you. i always admired your skills as well. your pyromancy is extremely impressive. perhaps…” he put a finger to his chin. “we should train together instead of fighting.”

- you agreed to his offer and you started frequently sparring together in a friendly way. you even ended up confessing to one another after a few weeks of friendliness, and becoming a powerful couple. you’re both grateful for your rivalry in the beginning, because you have already seen the worst of each other. now, you can see only the good parts in one another.

syzoth: forbidden love

- you were royalty and you were ordered to marry other royalty or at least rich

- when you met syzoth, you immediately fell in love

- “are you sure you want *me,* your highness? i mean, i could never distract you from the throne..” syzoth asked, always feeling insecure.

- “nonsense, syzoth.” you comforted. “i truly love you. i don’t care if you aren’t royalty.”

- but the more you spent time with him, the more terrible you felt, knowing you couldn’t marry him

- but at the same time… it felt so fun. sneaking him inside the palace and trying not to get caught. cuddling in bed at night and talking quietly so you won’t be heard. syzoth turning invisible anytime you heard guards nearby. the thrill of it just made your romance more fun.

- until you *actually* got caught. that wasn’t fun.

- your name was dragged through dirt for being in love with a zaterran. you were shunned from your family. but that didn’t stop you from being with him.

- “your highness, please, don’t risk the throne for me. you shouldn’t be seen with me anymore. i do not wish to make you suffer.” syzoth begged. he didn’t want to leave you, but he didn’t want to see your life fall apart because of him.

- “i don’t care. you make me so happy, syzoth. you love me for who i am, and i do the same for you. i have no problems with giving up my status for you. besides, you aren’t ruining my life. you’re making it so much better.” you reassured.

- but it turns out, you got to keep your throne. you threatened to leave your palace and give up your royalty, but your family didn’t want that. so they reluctantly let you have syzoth as your consort, even though half of the kingdom wasn’t very pleased with that. you didn’t care. you were just glad you don’t have to keep your lover a secret anymore.

shang tsung: partners in crime (it’s not rlly a trope but who cares)

- shang tsung ? dedicated to someone and working alongside them ? what is this sorcery…

- it’s self explanatory. you and him are just a power couple. you fight alongside one another and you help him come up with plans.

- anytime one of you gets in trouble, the other helps. you’re just two troublemaking lovers bent on destroying the people around you. it’s a surprisingly healthy relationship considering the fact that you both ruin lives and kill people daily.

- shang tsung is devoted to you. he would kill for you without hesitation. and he expects the same from you. he sees you as his equal and he expects you to always be there for him and support his decisions, no matter how twisted they are. he does listen to your input and opinions, but that doesn’t mean he takes orders from you.

- oh remember how you both kill people together? he loves your strength. he loves how you look when you kill people. all his favorite memories with you are when you kiss while standing on the dead bodies of his enemies.

- “darling, you look absolutely ravishing. but must you be so messy?” shang tsung asks, pointing at your blood-stained clothes.

- “thank you, my love. i know i was a bit messy, but don’t you think it’s a representation of our hard work? our art?” you reason.

- shang tsung smiled at your explanation. “you have a point. you’ve always been so good at winning me over.”

- even when he was almost locked up outworld. if it wasn’t for you, he probably would’ve been executed.

- you noticed he never came home one day, and you knew something was up, you felt it in your gut.

- you went around outworld, specifically sun do. you wore a disguise and simply walked around, hoping someone would mention seeing him. considering the fact that you and him are both very recognizable faces in outworld, someone must’ve seen him.

- “did you hear shang tsung is finally lock up in sun do’s prisons?” you hear a merchant say.

- in prison? he got caught? whatever, you can lecture shang tsung later. you had to save him first.

- you broke into the prison at night, knocking out every umgadi soldier you saw. they definitely will try to find you when they wake up, but that didn’t matter to you. all that mattered to you at the moment was that you had to free your lover.

- “amazing work, darling.” shang tsung praised, as soon as he saw you in front of his cell.

- “praise me later, i’ll break you out now.” you whispered, hoping no other umgadi showed up.

- you both ran out the palace, not caring about whatever destruction you caused in the process of escaping.

- that whole scenario happens at least once every few months now. you always have to save his ass every time shang tsung gets put in a jail. in return, he grants you freedom and his love. he hopes someday he can rule the realms with you by his side as his consort.

- for now, he must be patient. his dream will come true someday, but for now, he is content with always being on the run with you. living a couple years of crime with his beloved doesn’t bother him one bit.

smoke: grumpy x sunshine

- smoke is not a completely soft, happy-go-lucky guy. he is a brave fighter that puts his strength and energy into the shirai ryu. however, he’s still extremely kind to his loved ones.

- when he met you, he was confused about your cold, almost angry exterior. it almost gave him flashbacks to the way bi-han treated him when he was a child.

- thankfully, you weren’t that bad. you weren’t mean, just distant and occasionally emotionless. smoke made it his personal mission to help you prove yourself non-intimidating now that you were a couple. especially because you were very soft in private.

- people were usually confused when they found out you two were together. how can someone as kind as tomas choose to be with you? you’re total opposites.

- he always defended you from your doubters. he gets annoyed when someone puts your name in their mouths. if only they understood you. if only they put in the effort to get to know you, they’d understand.

- but you reassured him that you can’t control what other people think. he knows you’re right, but he still can’t help but wish other people would stop judging you just because you ‘look’ mean.

- “i just wish they would see you for who you are. i know you aren’t rude. you’re just.. a bit distant.” smoke sighed.

- “don’t stress about it, tomas.” you reassured, running your fingers through his hair. “i appreciate that you defend me all the time, but it’s kind of my fault. you don’t need to apologize for how i act.”

- however, smoke now has scary dog privileges. (it’s you you’re the scary dog)

- anytime a random person comes up and flirts with him, they see your death stare behind him and immediately run away. even if you aren’t doing it on purpose.

- anytime someone tries to use him for his kindness, you shut them down and defend him. but it’s not that smoke *needs* defending. he’s strong enough, but you still like to step in and defend him just like he defends you.

- he appreciates that you look out for him just like he does for you. you both love each other very much, and he accepts you for who you are. he doesn’t judge you for struggling to express emotions, and he learned to read your emotions in smaller gestures like your body language and your eyes. you are his love, his treasure, his beloved. he just wants you to be happy and safe, no matter what other people say about your relationship.

#havik #havik x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage mk1 #kung lao #kung lao x reader #raiden mortal kombat #raiden x you #raiden x reader #rain x reader #rain mortal kombat #zeffeero x reader #zeffeero #reptile x reader #syzoth x reader #syzoth #shang tsung #shang tsung x reader #mk smoke #smoke x reader #tomas vrbada #tomas x reader #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mk1 x reader #OH MY GOD THIS TOOK SO LONG #i woke up at 5 am its now 11 am #ive been writing for hours lol

[so-mordor-itis]

Eye on You

“give peace a chance, let the fear you have fall away, i’ve got my eye on you. say yes to heaven, say yes to me.

if you go, I’ll stay.. you come back, I’ll be right here. like a barge at sea, in the storm I stay clear, cause I’ve got my mind on you”

I told you I'd write a drabble but uhhhhh this ain't no drabble- @unhealthy-leon-brainrot

1998.

Leon loved differently back then. He loved in a way a 21 year old man freshly graduated from college could. He was giddy whenever the person in his interest would smile at him, would give him any time of day. His hands would become clammy, and his heart would race as if he were still a teenager. Sometimes, he truly felt like one at heart. That his soul was trapped in that time period, and it wouldn't ever leave.

It's why when he met you for the first time, and when you smiled at him as if nothing could go wrong, his face burned, and his heart almost burst right then and there. You were a brilliant flame, and he felt like a small candle stick awaiting to be lit.

He asked you out in a sputter of words, hating himself immediately after listening to them tumble. Leon didn't want his nervousness to show. He had been practicing for weeks in front of bathroom mirrors and sometimes in the Officer's Academy shower, hoping nobody overheard him. He wanted it to be perfect because that's what you deserved.

You giggled, and somehow, his heart both fluttered and sank. Your eyes glittered with an emotion that made him slightly hopeful. "You want to take me out on a date?"

"Yeah," he replied, all too quickly. "If you'd like to that is--only if you'd like to." He wished he could stop himself from talking, but he couldn't.

You smiled at him, and dammit there went the last of his coherent thoughts. "You know what? Sure. I don't have anything interesting going on." You laughed again, looking away shyly. "I can't say no when you're looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Leon asked, though he fully knew what you were talking about.

"Like I'm the only thing on your mind," you responded. You were fidgeting with your shirt, and Leon wanted nothing more than to grab your hands and hold them.

You weren't incorrect, either. You were on his mind a frightening amount. This affection for you was a buzz in the back of his mind, a throb in his chest.

You still said yes.

"So it's a date?"

"Yes, it's a date."

He swore he grinned from ear to ear, and he saw you return it.

--

The day he was supposed to pick you up, he never did. You were more worried than disappointed. Leon didn't seem like the type of guy you ask you out, gazing at you as if you created the sky and the stars, and then drop you like a hat. Despite the bitter part of you wanting to think he ditched you, the rational part knew better.

He called you hours later, apologetic and broken. "I'm so sorry. Something... something came up."

"Forget the date," you quickly muttered, surprised at how swift the words left your mouth. "Are you okay?"

He was silent for a bit. "Not really."

"Where are you? I'm coming to you."

"No, wait," Leon called your name almost in a plea. "I don't want you to drag yourself into this."

You weren't backing down without a little bit of a fight. "Leon, please."

He paused before stating he was in a hospital outside of Raccoon City.

--

Leon knew he loved you after that. He never admitted to himself until he was sure, but he couldn't prevent that innocent crush from growing into something more powerful.

You became a firework, blazing in his lonely, starless sky. You had always been.

2004.

He liked to believe he still loved the same. Wanted to love the same as he did all those years ago. His heart pounding and his palms becoming clammy, blue eyes full of innocent love.

He knew he didn't.

Leon was reserved now, awkward with his affection, hesitant with his touches yet still craved it. He hated that you had to watch him develop--no, perhaps devolve was the better word here--this trauma response. This training, this work, it all collapsed on top of him, and sometimes he felt as if it would eventually crush him.

Yet, some part of you still saw his old self. That stupid, lovesick boy who craved your attention the way a puppy would a scrap of food. You still gave him love, still kissed his scars, still told him sweet nothings when he broke down crying because the pressure was too much.

He once asked you if you were okay with all of this still, okay with him. You gave him your usual smile, the one that made him weak and touched that lovesick boy deep down. "You're stuck with me, Leon. I gave myself to you the day you asked me out. I'm staying. No matter what happens, I'm here."

He kissed you hard that day. Harder than he ever had. Placing a promise against your lips that he would always come back to you. No matter what.

--

You often wondered what he would do without you. If he would crash and burn the moment you turned around, if the night terrors would claw at his throat and suffocate him.

It was hard, watching him suffer mentally when all you could do was give him words of affirmation. Reassure him that the nightmares weren't real and that you were truly there with him and not bloodied up and dead.

Those moments made the good ones feel like precious gifts. Not just for you, but also for him. You carried them in your heart and held on to those when the bad days would storm over his head.

You remembered one of those good days so clearly, so vividly it never failed to make you smile. One day, while looking over some files, Leon had fallen asleep. His glasses--the ones he usually only used whenever he was reading important work files--were scrunched against his face, pushing up against the bridge of his nose. You remembered walking into his office, snickering a little at the sight. You sighed, shaking your head. "What am I going to do with you?"

You approached him quietly, as if the smallest movement would ruin his peaceful slumber. You grabbed the rims of his glasses carefully, pulling them off his face so he'd be more comfortable. As you did, you caught a feel of his soft locks and couldn't help but lightly smooth between your fingers. You took note of his facial features; his cheekbones were more rigid, and the shadows of his eyes were sunken in. His hair was even a bit darker, looking dirtier blond than it had when you first met. Still handsome, that would never change.

The urge to kiss his forehead had you twitching, but you didn’t want to disturb him. Especially since he had probably been staring at documented words for who knows how long.

You moved to quietly nudge yourself away before his sleepy voice mumbled. "Gonna go so soon?"

You blinked, looking down to see his eyes were now open. Still hazy from his rest. You practically beamed at him. "Didn't wanna wake you."

Leon sat up, stretching a little before putting his glasses back on. "Guess I must've passed out. These reports practically put me to sleep. I can't believe this is part of what they pay me for."

You attempted to catch a glimpse of whatever was on the document, but he placed them flat on the table when he caught you.

Leon snickered. "Classified. Sorry, baby."

You pouted a little. "Can't I help my boyfriend out a little?"

He stood up and stretched more, popping his back. "Not if it means you getting in trouble by seeing the reports. I'd also get in trouble, and we definitely wouldn't want that."

"Man, and here I thought I'd be able to see the famous missions Leon Kennedy goes on," you teased.

Leon just rolled his eyes as if you two had had this discussion before. You have. You just like to see him smile. Distract him as much as you could.

"Become an agent, then we'll talk." He took off his glasses and put them back on his desk. He placed his gaze upon you, and you could feel the adoration in his eyes. He still looked at you as if you had created the sky, the moon, the stars. As if you were his sun and he orbited around you and only you. You would never get over it.

Leon mimicked the action you were doing earlier and parted your hair from your cheeks so he could kiss your forehead.

His work phone rang loud, interrupting the moment. Leon sighed and kissed you quickly against the lips before the obligation to his duty forced him to go answer it.

"Kennedy. Yes, sir."

You observed his body language as he discussed with his superior. His shoulders went rigid, his eyes focused as if he were already on the field. He was prepared for whatever they were about to tell him because he had to be.

He hung up after a minute of giving affirming hums and a variety of yeses. Leon plopped his phone on the documentations and gave you an apologetic look.

"Don't worry about it." You shook your head. You knew what he was about to say. He didn't even need to tell you anything out loud. His eyes told the whole story.

"I really don't deserve you," he mumbled. "Makes me wonder how you do it."

"Because I love you." You said simply. "I'm here to stay, remember?"

--

|Tags:|

@seraphiism , @uhlunaro , @izuniias , @honeyfict , @konigbabe , @leonskillshot , @airanke , @muffimtv , @justonemore-fic , @mandalhoerian , @tosuckmyweenis , @boundinparchment

#resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil imagines #resident evil 4 #resident evil #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy resident evil #leon x you #leon x y/n #leon x reader #my writing

[dilemmaontwolegs]

hiiii, I'm new here. saw that your reqs r closed but I'd like to share one scenario idea. the choice is yours whether to write it or not.

Daniel (or Carlos) is your bff. You see each other rarely because of his career. It's summer break, he's back home and you've just had your heartbroken by an asshole. You convince you friend group that you need to go out & celebrate Daniel's (or Carlos') comeback in the hope of getting laid. As the night goes on the driver is more n more frustrated with the guys you choose. He get a lil too much to drink n becomes possessive of you, starts touching you intimately and doesn't care about people surrounding. The night ends in a bedroom where he fucks you slow and sensually like he thinks you deserve and none of those jackasses in the club could

hope you've a nice vacation

Peace out ✌🏾

This is for Carlos since Daniel hasn't gotten rid of that moustache yet

Red Flags || CS55

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, friends to lovers WC: 2.4k

It hurt a little that the first notification you received that Carlos was back home came from a gossip page you followed. Maybe it shouldn’t come as such a surprise when a distance had grown after you started dating Marco, you weren’t sure if Carlos even knew what had happened since the last time you spoke to him. Your families were close, but even your parents were reluctant to speak to anyone about the breach of privacy your ex had caused, the photos he had tried to leak. It had cost a huge sum to keep them from being published and you had been trying to get over the betrayal since.

Recent coping methods included the company of your friends and the string of nightclubs that lined the beachfront.

“I picked up a stray,” Liana called out as she walked into your house without knocking. You could always count on your friend to be up for a party and she had accepted the invite before anyone else. You stuck your head out of the living room where you had been pouring yourself a stiff drink and found her arm curled around the back of Carlos. “A handsome one too.”

You couldn’t believe it had been nearly six months since you last saw him and it looked like he had somehow matured even more. His beard had filled out to cover his entire jaw and his hair was lush and dark. 

Excitement filled you and you rushed towards him as he opened his arms with a smile. “Carlito!” 

“Bomboncita,” he replied with a laugh, his strong arms tightening around you as he picked you up and twirled in a circle. “Missed you too.”

“Come out with us, let’s celebrate your win!” You didn’t wait for an answer as you rushed back to get your clutch with your ID and cash.

“She just wants to get laid,” Liana whispered to Carlos. “You can help me keep her away from any red flags.”

There was one thing you could always count on and that was Liana to be the mother of the group. More mature than the rest of your friends put together, she always made sure you got home safe. Everyone else lived in the city but the mansion your parents had given you was out on the coast, thankfully she was more than happy to sober drive for you. Unfortunately, the only cars on the driveway were two seater sports cars.

That was how you ended up starting your night sitting on Carlos’ lap.

“This reminds me of old times, bombón,” he murmured as you looped an arm around his neck and held on tight. 

“I don’t know how you passed basic maths,” you shot back with a laugh before looking at Liana. “He would always invite more people than we have seats for during the summer break.”

Liana shook her head with a smirk. “Maybe he just liked having you on his lap.”

“What guy wouldn’t,” you joked, well accustomed to the years of teasing over your close friendship with Carlos. But for all the times you sat in this very position, he had never seen you as more than a friend. 

“Should we stop her?” Carlos asked, a quiet growl in his words as he watched you dance with another man. Your hips were too enticing, too sexy, and he had to look away to down his drink and quench the sudden thirst he had. 

Liana didn’t seem fazed by your ability to hook a man in with a seductive smile and dance with them until Carlos interrupted or they said something that made you push them away. 

“No way, she deserves to have some fun after what happened with Marco.”

He placed the empty glass on the bartop and turned his attention to Liana, a frown etched into his forehead. “What happened with Marco?” 

“Oh, she should probably be the one to tell you. I thought you knew.”

A woman in a very low cut dress slipped between Liana and Carlos, interrupting their conversation as she placed a hand on his arm. “You’re that driver, right? Want to dance?”

Carlos shook his head with a polite ‘no thanks’ and brushed her hand off his, rubbing the spot on his sleeve to erase the feel of her touch. “What did he do, Lee?”

The tone left no arguing and Liana chewed her lip nervously before giving in and leaning closer so no one overheard. 

Rage burned through Carlos in a way he had never felt before. He had felt anger, sure, frustration too, but this was white hot and liquid molten in his veins, deep in his core. He was lucky that Marco wasn’t in the same city or he would surely be finding himself on the wrong side of the law at that moment.

Carlos didn’t even realise he had crossed the room until his fist bunched into the shirt of the man holding you close and he pushed the stranger away, ignoring the protests he made. 

“Carlito!” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Dance with me.”

Some of the fire eased as your fingers twirled the strands of hair at his nape and his hands came to rest naturally on your hips as he pulled you closer. “We have a lot of catching up to do, bomboncita.”

You looked up as the odd tone cut through your buzz and immediately knew what he knew. His own eyes were a little unfocused and you could smell the whiskey on his breath, not helping him to control his emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The air hissed between your teeth as you sucked in a breath and dipped your chin down so you didn’t have to look him in the eyes. “You would have said I told you so.”

His hand slipped away from your body and you missed the heat of it instantly but then it was cradling your throat, his thumb pushing your chin back up and forcing you to connect with his dark irises. “I told you he wasn’t good for you, he wouldn’t treat you how you deserve.”

“Carlito...” It was a familiar argument every time you had a boyfriend. He would always find reasons to dislike them.

“Listen, please, bombón,” he said as he took a step closer so every inch of his body was flush against yours. His lips brushed your cheek as he turned your head away and whispered the secret he had kept all these years. “Let me show you how you should be treated.”

Surprise filled you and you licked your dry lips at the thought of what he was implying. “Here?” you asked breathlessly and his laugh warmed your cheek.

“No, bombón,” he all but purred as he teased the column of your neck with his nose and his hands danced over the curve of your ass. “What I want to do to you…no, not here.”

His eyes narrowed at someone behind you and you turned to see it was someone you had been dancing with earlier. You couldn’t remember his name, or maybe he hadn’t even told you it, either way you had no interest in taking the drink he offered.

“Red flag, mate,” Carlos growled as he pulled you under his arm and put himself between you and the stranger. “Walk away.”

The man wisely walked away and you laughed as you stepped back into Carlos’ arms. He had held you a thousand times over your long friendship but the way he held you now, possessive and jealous, it changed everything. There was no going back to how it used to be. 

“I kind of like this new you,” you teased as you danced with him, turning in his arms and rocking your hips in time to the beat. “So commanding, Carlito, why don’t you try it on me?”

His lips cocked up in a smirk that you saw as you peeked over your shoulder and dragged his hands down your body. “Because you’ve never listen to anything I say.”

Turning to face him, you looped your arms around his neck and brushed your lips softly over his before you could change your mind. “Maybe you just never said what I wanted to hear.”

Carlos swallowed as he saw your pupils dilate with lust and the thin material of your dress did little to hide the fact you wore no bra beneath it, your peaked nipples begging him to take them in his mouth. “We need to leave,” he groaned as he squeezed your ass and bit his lip, “before I get us both into a lot of trouble.”

You barely remembered to thank Liana for dropping you off at home. You barely remembered the drive when every ounce of your brain capacity was spent trying to behave yourself while you sat on Carlos’ lap. You tried to keep still on the corners but you felt his hard length beneath you with each turn and squirm.

It seemed to take forever for Liana to finally pull into your driveway and your foot tapped the tile floor impatiently while she drove off and you slapped the button on the wall to close the gates. You didn’t wait to see them close as Carlos’ lips were on yours and his feet led the way blindly through your home. 

Your bed was a mess. You hadn’t planned on bringing a stranger back to your place, but Carlos was no stranger, in fact, he knew you better than anyone ever could or would. He smiled knowingly as he laid you down on the sheets, kneeling between your legs as they parted for him.

His shirt had been abandoned somewhere on the stairs, your dress along the hallway, his trousers at the foot of your bed. You had seen him in this state of undress before, when you would sneak out as teenagers and go for midnight swims in the bay, but the moonlight had left the memory faded. In the light of your room, his skin glowed and shadows highlighted the dips of his defined muscles that lined his body. It was like seeing him in colour for the very first time.

“Are you okay, bombón?” he asked as his fingers danced down your legs lightly, tickling your skin and leaving goosebumps behind until he reached your heels. His thick fingers shouldn’t have been able to remove the delicate clasps so gracefully but he eased each shoe off before massaging the aching soles of your feet. “You look like you are thinking too hard.”

“I am thinking you are going way too slow,” you teased. His thumb hit the right spot in your arch and a moan parted your lips while he chuckled at your reaction.

“I told you, princesa, I’m going to show you how you deserve to be treated.” Tantilisingly slowly, he massaged his way up your legs, devoting his time to your relaxation until you were putty in his hands. Your legs were trembling in anticipation when his thumbs finally reached the laced edge of your panties and he let out an unsteady breath at the damp patch darkening the material. You lifted your hips for him as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and dragged them down your legs. “I want to taste you, princesa.”

“Please, Carlos,” you begged as he licked his full lips enticingly.

You recognised the look in his eyes, the one that told you to be patient and the groan that had been building morphed into a gasp when he grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his thigh. The pressure was teasing and you rocked your hips wanting more as he blanketed you with his body and sealed his lips around your breast. 

“Fuck,” you moaned as his tongue flicked over your nipple, sending bolts of lightning to your core as you tightened your legs around his thigh and combed your fingers into his hair. “Oh god, do that again.”

He was more than happy to follow your command and you felt like your body would ignite beneath him. He sensed the change in your body as your breathing laboured and a sweat broke out across your skin. “Not yet,” he warned as he kissed his way up your neck and captured your lips in a blistering kiss. “I want to taste you when you come, princesa.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you shamelessly rode his thigh, the pressure building. “Then you better hurry up.”

A whimper escaped with the disappearance of his leg but when you opened your eyes you were struck by his dark ones, watching you watch him make his way down your body. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt him blow a cold breeze over your skin and you shivered as he warmed it again with his tongue. 

“I’m starting to think you get off on teasing me,” you whispered with a strained voice. 

“I simply get off on you,” he replied just as quietly.

The questions you had were erased with the leisurely stroke of his tongue, tasting you for the first time. He hummed at the reward he had earned with his teasing and his fingers gripped your thighs tighter as he held you spread open for him to devour. 

The room filled with the sweet sounds that clawed from your throat as your head swum and your legs quivered. The salacious song grew louder when Carlos curled one finger into your cunt, then two. He pumped his digits as his tongue circled your clit and together they threw you over the edge and you came with undulating waves that rocked your body against his lips.

“Carlito…” you panted as he lapped at your dripping folds, indulging in the decadence he had been craving for years.

“I love you,” he admitted as he rose above you.

You reached for his face, your thumb tracing the shape of his swollen lips that were still shiny with your arousal. “I love you too.”

“No more red flags,” he said as he lined himself with your entrance. “You’re mine, princesa.”

“I’m yours,” you echoed as you pulled his face to yours and sealed the promise with a kiss.

“You always have been.”

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #carlos sainz smut

[crowcravesmore]

When I Get My Hands On You. (Soldier Boy Fic).

Soldier Boy/Ben x F!Reader 18+

Summary: Slight AU + 'Still Awake'. After everything, Vought decides it's better to keep Soldier Boy out of the way instead of putting him back under. Out of the way is a McMansion out of the city, a plot of land, a mountain and all the time in the world. He's got everything he needs, and yet there's still something missing. He figures out what it is very quickly when you show up. What a lucky man he is.

Song This Fic is Based On: Superbad Mantra - JAWNY, Christian Blue.

A/n: I'm so excited to post this fic, it was so much fun to write, and my first time writing for SB. I wrote, and rewrote this fic a couple of times, and this plot + ending just feels right. Let me know what you think. -Kash

Word Count: 3.5k

Tags & Warnings: 18+ Only, Cursing, Ben wanting you BAD, smut, drinking.

+

Never in a million fucking years would Ben admit to being tired of it all. The fighting, the anger, the planning, the business of it. But he is. Ben’s tired of fighting. He never wanted to be mixed in with Vought new affairs. So he’s almost ecstatic when they decide to just keep him hidden in the woods instead of putting him under again. He’s their Golden God, (well he used to be) so their version of hiding him is a red brick Mcmansion 40 minutes outside the city. When he sees it for the first time he gets a wave of –I don't know– peace? Ecstasy maybe at the sight of it. 

Let me paint the picture of Ben’s newfound paradise. It’s on about 15 acres of land, surrounded by woods with a little creek tucked inside. When you come down the driveway there are rows of pine trees shading the pathway. To the east there’s a mountain, about a 40 minute hike to get to the base of it and an hour to get to the top. To the west there’s a river, a quarter mile wide and too long for Ben to guess. Big enough for him to fuck off on it for hours and still not see anyone. He gets a dock, a pontoon, plus a couple of trails all to himself. 

 All on the promise that he stays hidden, & out of the fray. 

If we’re being honest right now, even with all of this, Ben told them to fuck off. He isn’t a pet to lock away when he’s not needed, he has–had a life. He deserves a life. 

“We can’t guarantee you a life outside of what we’re offering you now, Ben,” Jeremy, Vought's coordinating agent for Soldier Boy says. He’s a weasley looking man, short with neatly parted black hair & wire-framed glasses. They’re standing on the back deck of the house, looking out to the river as the sun starts to set. His suit’s a little too tight, and not at all fitting for the summer heat. He keeps pulling at his tie, and dabbing his forehead with his pocket hankie. “All we’re asking is that you remain here for now, and once we’re able to settle our affairs and guarantee you a position without ..” He trails off. 

Ben already knows. “Yeah,” He’s annoyed. “ Once you can get my sperm mutant under control, I get it.” He nods, and mulls over the thought for a moment, taking a good look at the property. It’s honestly, truly, not a bad deal. He’s just pissy because—“I’m not stayin’ here without getting high, Johnny.” he says matter of factly. 

Jeremy doesn’t even miss a beat, he’s nodding immediately. “Understood, Vought is very aware of your extracurricular activities and we’ve already supplied you with a month’s worth of—” 

“I’m gonna need more.”  Jesus let him finish.

“Yes, sir,” Jeremy wipes the sweat from the back of his neck, and pulls a phone out of his pocket. “We have a delivery guy coming once a week with groceries, as well as anything else you may need. Just text this number with your list and we’ll send him over asap.” He hands Ben the phone and motions out to the water. “This is a great offer, Ben. No other Superhero is getting a set up like this, unlimited food, wifi, a boat—” 

“It’s a pontoon.” 

He ignores him. “And enough weed, coke, and whateverthehell else to kill all of Manhattan if you want it.” He locks eyes with Ben, smiles, & It’s quite frankly almost eerie. “Just stay here and let us handle the rest.” 

He sits on it for about 10 seconds, before nodding and turning the phone over in his hands. 

“How long?”

And that’s just the least of it. 

+

About a month into it, Ben starts to get a little….restless. Yeah, sure, that’s the word for it. He’s content with the land, and the food, and the drugs, and has even started a little garden. It’s not huge, but he’s already gotten a few sprouts from his potatoes, so that’s something. 

However, he’s still Ben. Still Soldier Boy. Still a man of needs, and cravings like he’s always been. Only now it’s panged with something like loneliness. Maybe that’s all it is. Maybe it’s the memories of his old life, and how everyone he loved turned against him. He was a son of a bitch, so maybe he deserved it. Whatever, anyways—

It’s a tuesday night when he finally hits fuck it territory. He’s been watching porn for three hours, and is–honest to God–tired of his hand & a screen. He swipes out of PornHub, and looks up the nearest Gentleman's club outside of the city. Because that’s what he is, a gentleman. 

He gets dressed and walks two hours into a small town and makes a beeline for ‘Synn’. It’s a ‘not too shabby’, but shabby, looking gentlemans club on the east side of town, right off the highway. It’s a one story concrete building with tinted windows, & nondescript except for the giant neon purple sign outside. ‘Synn Gentlemen's Club’ it reads, with the silhouette of a woman next to it. The inside does it a little more justice. It’s got dark purple walls, and an honestly very well stocked bar all on a landing, plus a few tables and chairs. The floor is scattered with stains, and the walls have a faint smell of cigarettes. The rest of the club is almost like one giant conversation pit, with stairs leading down to the main floor, & two main stages right in the middle of the room. Both stages have mirrors at the back of them, so wherever you are in the club you can get a view. God does he love the view. 

Ben loves women. I don’t know if you know that, actually I know you don’t know that, but he does. The way women talk, the way they walk, move their hips, their lips, their touch, their smell, their taste. Fuck, he loves the taste. He’s a bit more partial to older women, but lately he’s bent his own rules. Twenty-four is the youngest he’ll go, and even then it’s…iffy. Maturity is a big thing for him. 

Here he’s happy to bend his rule to accommodate. He sits in a darker corner, his hat pulled low, and just enjoys the show. An hour, and nine beers in, & He’s gained just enough confidence to catch eyes with one of the girls in the club. She’s pretty, not exactly his type, but pretty. Long blonde hair, and a tiny sparkly pink one piece that barely hides anything. 

Believe it or not he’s shy. Tonight Ben’s shy. Only because he’s sure he’s toeing the line right now being here, but he's feeling more hands on, so when she asks if he wants a dance, he immediately says yes. It lasts all of two minutes. He wants more, but not with her, and he can’t even put his finger on why he stops her from asking if he wants to go to the VIP room, but he does. He pays her and immediately leaves. 

Back to his hand. Back to missing….something.

+

A week later, right as he’s snorting enough coke to down two bull elephants off of his coffee table, the doorbell rings. He quick sniffs, and wipes whatever’s left on his nose onto his gums before standing up. “Shit,” he half groans as he wobbles. Everythings a little too turnt at the moment, so he immediately sits back down and puts his head in his hands. “Oooooh, shit.”

He’s about 40 seconds deep into an almost meditative state when the doorbell rings again plus five knocks. This time he hears a “Hellooo?” And a softer, “Fuck, it’s hot please hurry up.” from the other side of the door. He knows you don’t mean for him to hear it, he can’t help it. He wishes he didn’t. Everything is too bright, and too loud, and his jaw is starting to grind from all the coke so no, hearing you or seeing you for that matter is not on his list. 

Regardless, when you start knocking again he’s up. In three seconds he’s around the couch, and swinging open the front door. The heat hits him immediately and so does the sight of you. Oh God she's gorgeous. He’s gotta lean on the doorframe a bit to keep steady, and get a good look at you. 

You’re standing in the doorway with two arms full of groceries. He’d completely forgotten about …Matt? Max? The guy Vought hired to buy him groceries, toiletries, and drugs. The other day he let himself in when Ben didn’t answer the door fast enough. Ben was shitting, and didn’t hear the doorbell. Or the door open for that matter. He scared Ben when he walked into the kitchen, & Ben threw a chair at him. He–thankfully–only shattered his collarbone. Needless to say the poor bastard quit while being loaded in the ambulance. The important part of that story is you. Standing here now instead of Mr. Irrelevant. 

Ben smiles at you and silently thanks God for the summer heat. Your gray T-shirt is just tight enough around your chest that he can see the outline of your nipples. I promise he’s trying not to stare, so he’s gotta work a little harder not to let his eyes drag down body. 

“Excuse me,” He’s not doing a good job.You’re just so pretty, baby. Even when you frown like that. “I’m y/n,” You say it slowly and a little sarcastically. You caught him staring, he knows he deserves it. He honestly likes it. “Jeremy sent me to drop off your groceries since Jackson–” That’s his name! “–quit. I’d shake your hand, but,” You hold up the bags, & Ben immediately reaches to grab them out of your hands. You look too good to work at Vault. Long lashes, pretty lips, and the way your hips curve in those shorts. He’s gotta ignore how much he wants to-

“Let me help with those,” He cuts his own thoughts off. “Are there any more in the car?” 

You nod. “Yeah there’s a lot more, let me help you at least.” You turn to walk back down the pathway. 

He takes a few steps out, and too eagerly says “No, Ma’am. Let me get em’.” Ma’am.

You don’t even stop walking. You just wave him off and say “It’s alright, I want to help. Honestly if you want to relax I can get these unloa–” He’s not listening. He’s coked out & kind of dazed, but he’s still a gentleman. Sort of. He can’t help but to watch your ass as you walk away. Your shorts look perfect on you, and everytime you step your ass jiggles a little. 

He just met you and he can tell you don’t like him. He stares too hard, his hair is a mess, he’s wearing stained sweatpants and a stained tank top to match (Had he realized you were coming he would’ve gotten dressed), and boy does he like you. He already knows he’d devour you if you give him the chance. Give em’ the chance. 

It takes about six minutes to unload everything out of your truck, Vought’s truck as you tell him. They gave you something big enough to haul all of his things in. A shitload of food, clothes, toiletries, fishing equipment, new hiking boots, and a black duffle bag you weren’t allowed to look in. Ben helps as much as he can which helps speed the process along. Now, however, he’s just sitting at the kitchen island bouncing between small talk, and admiring you put his groceries away.

“So,” He puts his forearms on the countertop and leans in. “Are you from here or..” Ladies and gentlemen, Soldier Boy! Jeez, try a little harder.

“No actually,” You say, pulling a couple of cases of strawberries out of bags, before putting them in the fridge. “I moved to the city about a year ago when I got hired at Vought.” 

“And is this all you do?” You’re doing amazing, Ben. He cringes a little at himself for saying it like that. ‘All you do’ , it’s a little condescending. 

You don’t even let it phase you. “No, actually, I’m Jeremy’s assistant and team lead.” You say before dropping down to a squat to load a few cases of beer onto the bottom shelf of the fridge. “I’m just here because I haven’t had time to hire a new personal shopper for you. I’ll have one for you by next week though, I promise.” 

Oh, please don’t promise that.

He tries so hard not to watch you, but Jesus he can’t help it. He’s got his eyes locked on you. The muscles in your back move every time you pick another case up, & your ass is sitting so prettily as you sit on your haunches to balance yourself. You stand back up, languid and smooth and your legs are so fucking-

“Okay,” You say, turning back around. He’s looking straight at you, and praying you didn’t catch him staring again. Part of him hopes you did. “That’s about everything, I don’t think you need help putting your personal items away, do you?” 

He fights the urge to say yes. “No, I-I’m good, but are you busy?” What is he doing? 

You pause and your eyebrows raise. “Uh, well today’s my day off, but-” 

“Stay for a bit,” It’s a statement he says more like a half-question.  “If you’d like. I have a-uh pontoon, and I’ve wanted to take someone out on the river since I got here. It’s my thanks for you using your day off to come here.” He smiles, and tries not to be too obvious about how much he wants you to say yes. 

“That’s kind of you,” You say smiling back before walking around the island towards your keys on the table. “but I have to go, I have a few errands to run.”

He’s good at hiding disappointment. He shrugs a bit, and keeps a warm smile. He can’t help but like the sound of your voice, even when it’s letting him down easily. “Okay, well can I ask you for a favor?” 

You put your hands on your hips and look up at him. “Sure, what can I do for you?” 

Sweetheart, so much. What he actually says is, “If you have time, would you mind coming again next week instead of someone else?” Oh he’s bold about it. “I just-” He shrugs. “I like our conversation. More than mine & Jacobs.” 

You laugh, and it makes him wanna be good to you. “His name is Jackson, and I’ll see.” You look him up and down, and Ben swears you bite your lip a bit. “Let me see your phone, I’ll give you my number so you can let me know if you need anything else.” You hold your hand out, and he’s immediately passing his phone to you. 

Oh he needs a lot. “Oh I need a lot.” He says before he even realizes it. Fuck. 

You just chuckle and keep putting your number in. You’re cool, you’re so fucking cool, you know that? When you finish you hand it back to him, and his hand grazes yours. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t really like that.

“So if I text you tonight and say I need something, you comin’?” He says, saving your number.

“Nope,” You say matter of factly, walking to the front door. “But give me a week, if I can’t find someone for you, you’ll see me here again.” 

He follows right behind you, eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. He does a little jog to grab the door before you do, and opens it for you. “Don’t look too hard then, that pontoon is just waiting for a chance at you.” And so am I. You give him a look at that statement, but say nothing.

He leans against the door as you walk out, and follows you all the way to the truck. “Can I only text you for things I need?” He says before reaching to open your car door too. Again, Ben is a gentleman through and through. 

You sit in the driver's seat and ask. “Is there another reason to text me?” 

He’s standing between you and the door now, and if we’re being real honest, he likes looking at you like this. The SUV is high enough that you’re eye to eye now, and he’s got a helluva’ view. He steps in a little & you’re even prettier up close. Nice cheekbones, pretty lashes, full lips. He puts one hand on the truck and keeps the other on the door, and leans into you a bit. His heart, Jesus, jumps a little when you don’t lean away from him. His breath deepens when you start looking him up and down too. Fuck, this is a moment. 

Sweetheart, you’re givin’ him all sorts of ideas to hold on to, you know that? 

“Absolutely, I needa’ get to know you a little better. Seeing as you know where I live and all.” He’s all eyes on you. His voice is kind of low now, and he can’t even help licking his lips. “You sure you don’t wanna stay a little bit longer? Let me cook you somethin’, show you how much I appreciate you, Y/n.” He’s practically drooling it out. 

He’s–okay–he’s not even trying to hold back how much he wants you. His voice is too low, he’s too close, and looking you up and down too much for it not to be obvious. You clock it, immediately, and–against your better judgment–lean into him. So close that your noses almost touch, and you reach your hand behind him. 

“I appreciate the offer but,” You say, grabbing the door. “I’m a little busy tonight.” 

He wants you so bad it hurts, and he just met you. He can’t help it, he’s leaning into you, eyes closing, and–

“Ah,” You almost whisper, smiling and pulling back. This is so funny to you. “I’m not the one for that, but I appreciate the thought. Excuse me.” you look behind him to the door and he doesn't move at first. 

Instead he just eyes you. He’s never had a woman play with him like that, and he’s torn between wanting more and none of it at all. You are the one for that, you’re just not there yet. You will be. He steps back, and you close the door, starting the car before rolling the window down. 

“You have my number, Ben,” The way you say his name makes him want to howl. “Call me if you need me.” 

“I promise I will, Y/n.” He says as you back up, turn, and pull down the driveway. He doesn’t go inside until your suv is out of his sight. 

+

“Fuck, Y/n,” He moans, sitting back in his bed & jerking himself off to the thought of you. “Yes, baby, keep ridin’ it.” 

He’s panting, eyes closed, imagining you on top of him. Fucking him like your life depends on it. He’s never heard you moan, but he's imagining something sweet, and addicting coming out of you. He starts bucking up into his hand, and imagines you whining at how deep he’s going. 

‘Be-e-en,’ You’d moan, mouth open and drooling from how good he’s hitting it. You would grip his hair and bounce on him the way you know he likes it. ‘Ben, please baby, harder!’

He starts fucking himself harder at your imaginary requests. He’d do any–and everything you told him to, and quickly at that. “Fu-uck, y/n, you know I like that. You know I like that, baby.” He moans to no one, but the thought of you. 

He imagines you swirling your hips on him, looking him in his eyes while you say, ‘Fuck baby I’m gonna cum. Ben, please,’ & he can’t hold it anymore. You are, even in his imagination, just too much. He cums all over his hand and stomach, and moans your name a couple of times for good measure. 

And for a while he just lays there. Panting, eyes closed, mind full of you. Fuck ‘Synn Gentlemens Club’, you’re what he’s been missing. That thought really wakes him up. He just met you, and compared to the hundred other women he’s slept with in his lifetime, you knock him back a little. The way you talk, the way you walk, how you laugh, and even how you tell him no. You’re not taken aback by him, you don’t fear him, you toy with him a little bit and what’s worst of all is he likes it. He really likes it.  He likes it so much that he wipes his hand off on his stomach and grabs his phone. Immediately finding your name and texting you a simple ‘Hello’.

+

A/n: Thank you for reading <3 If you want to be tagged in the next chapter you can DM me or reply to this post!

#I'm in love with Jensen Ackles THERE I admitted it! #the boys #the boys fic #Soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #the boys fanfic

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Omar Sharif (Funny Girl, Lawrence of Arabia)—Dark and thrilling, strange and sweet, honey in your ear, spice in your mouth, he was Sherif Ali the Arab, Yuri Zhivago the Russian, Colonel Grau the German and much much much more, here's to the one and only Omar Sharif---- Pharaoh of romance!!! (I'm sorry Im stealing lyrics from the song "Omar Sharif" but it ain't lying!)

Toshiro Mifune (Rashumon, Seven Samurai, Grand Prix, Stray Dog)—i love and respect my boi tab hunter (rest in peace you beautiful, beautiful man ❤️), but after i watched like 12 of his movies in a row on tcm last year, i ALSO love and respect toshiro mifune, son of a literal actual hatamoto’s (a high-ranking samurai) daughter, also very possibly related to the best judokan EVER, AND, he’s the guy who SHOULD have been obi-wan kenobi. the fact that he’s ALSO hot as hell just adds to his appeal.

This is one of two polls in the tournament semifinals. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

THIS POLL LASTS FOR 24 HOURS.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Toshiro Mifune propaganda:

"In addition, he spoke fluent mandarin and every time he was casted in foreign films, he said his lines in the language of the movie (although they ended up dubbing him. He wasn’t happy about it though).”

Submitted: this gifset

Also submitted: this video (yes, that one)

"Crucial Toshiro Mifune propaganda: THOSE LEGS."

"That is hella muscle. Go watch The Hidden Fortress, aka Star Wars A New Hope. His thighs deserve an award."

Omar Sharif propaganda:

"he and Peter O'Toole didn't have the heaviest "we're fucking" energy in Lawrence of Arabia for nothing!"

"Additional Omar Sharif propaganda (I am counting as propaganda both the way he looks and the way Peter O'Toole is looking at him.)"

#toshiro mifune #omar sharif #hot men semifinals #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old man!!!!!!!!! #TWO KINGS

[ageingfangirl2]

You Have A Guest! Mihawk (OPLA)

Shanks shows up uninvited to Mihawk's home and is surprised to find you, and even more surprised when he finds out the two of you are engaged. What did Mihawk do to deserve his peace being shattered? Mihawk x Reader (Female)

You were tidying up the kitchen after bringing in vegetables from the patch outside when three loud knocks make you jump. You pop your head out of the kitchen door and stare down the hallway towards the front door, not expecting any guests unless Mihawk had forgotten to tell you. You shake your head, your fiancé didn't forget anything, but then who was at the door? This island wasn't easy to get to and not many people knew its location.

You walk towards the front door brushing imaginary creases out of your dress, because even if the person on the other side was bad you always wanted to look your best.

You open the door and smile, 'Hi, who--'

'You're not Mihawk,' a tall red-haired man says cutting you off, staring at you as if you were something to be gawked at, eyes lingering a little too long on your chest which made you uncomfortable.

Another man, this one had grey hair slaps the red-haired man across the back of the head, 'manners captain, apologies miss,' he flashes you a smile.

You nod, 'Err thank you, now who are you guys?'

The red-haired man rubs his head before reaching out his one hand which you shake, 'I'm Shanks and this is my crew. Now who are you, pretty lady?'

'I'm y/n, Mihawk is my fiancé,' you answer.

'fiancé!' the group of men shout in unison, shock written across their faces.

MIHAWK

Soft knocks at my office door draw my attention away from the tedious documents on my desk, the knocks could only belong to one person, and I needed someone to put me in a better mood right now.

'Come in darling,' I call out.

The door opens and my stunning fiancé walks in, wearing the new dress I'd gotten them. My whole aesthetic was dark, but y/n looked beautiful in white, the angel to my devil. I motion them to come towards me.

They approach my side and the scent of their light floral perfume calms me down, as I slip an arm around their waist pulling them even closer.

y/n runs their fingers through my hair, 'I hate seeing you stressed, so I might not have the best news for you.'

I blink at them and smile, 'You could never stress me out, darling. What's the news?'

y/n sighs, 'You have a guest downstairs.'

'...impossible...' I reply, racking my mind but coming up blank.

'They said their name was Shanks, and his crew is also with him--'

'...FUCK!...' I curse loudly.

y/n gasps not used to hearing me curse, wiggles out of my grip, crouches down so our eyes meet, and gently reaches out a hand to touch my cheek, 'Are you okay?'

I take their hand and bring it to my lips, kissing each knuckle, 'sorry for scaring you darling, I wasn't expecting him to show up. Did he say anything to you?'

y/n bites their lip, 'he stared a little too long at my chest but a nice man called Benn hit him. Are they your friends?'

I managed to keep my anger under control, wanting to kill Shanks for making my fiancé uncomfortable but felt a little better knowing Benn was more mature than his captain. I snort at the notion of calling Shanks and his crew my friends, acquaintances at best, I could only just about tolerate the man while he liked to annoy me.

y/n clears their throat, 'Mihawk baby say something.'

I snap out of my thoughts, 'Sorry, again, I'll make it up to you later. They just stress me out whenever they come around.'

y/n pouts and puffs out their chest, 'Now you've got me to back you up. I might be small and nice to everyone, but I'm not scared to put a pirate or two in their place.'

My smile turns into a smirk, 'that's my girl. I guess we better go and be hosts.'

y/n had their scary moments and had made grown men cry when we were out together, I kind of wanted the smug satisfaction of watching Shanks and his crew cower before her. The years of being a teacher had shaped y/n into a force to be reckoned with.

TIMESKIP

It hadn't taken long for Shanks to make a mess, and having joked about y/n being a sweetheart and too good for me, when y/n snapped I genuinely saw fear on his face because like me y/n could be calm but their words cut deep.

As we sat around eating, Shanks sitting as far away from y/n as possible and avoiding all eye contact, I kissed the top of y/n's head which was leaning against my chest. They look up at me with a warm drunken expression pausing their conversation with Lucky about food.

'I love you darling,' I whisper, just loud enough for them to hear over the chatter.

They blush, 'I love you more Mihawk.'

I didn't want anyone knowing about y/n and me, and Benn told me on behalf of Shanks they would keep our secret because it was nice to have a quiet captain for once. I'd be happier once they left so I could go back to my peaceful life with y/n. The next time they showed up we wouldn't answer the door.

#anime fanfiction #anime imagines #opla #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagines #one piece #one piece live action #one piece live action imagines #opla imagines #opla fanfiction #one piece live action fanfiction #opla mihawk #opla mihawk fanfiction #opla mihawk imagines #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk one piece #dracule mihawk #red haired shanks

[writingstoraes]

part two of charles leclerc/fem!verstappen!reader pls your first one was so good!!!

red vs red 🚥

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!verstappen!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: thank u for loving the first, anon! hope u like this one 🤍 and thank u for requesting heheh, also formatting may look weird in ios devices idk this app wont let me fix the errors in bold letters 😭

summary: no peaceful race when there's banter between your boyfriend and your own brother, might as well just join the ruckus they cause!

reading the first part isn't necessary, just provides context! but if you want, read part 1 here!

ynverstappen

liked by lilymhe, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 870,445 others

ynverstappen happy race week, everybody! glad to be back in the paddock supporting my favorite driver ever ❤ goodluck, my baby love charles_leclerc! will be waiting for you after quali with lots of kisses and hugs :)

ps. spending quali in ferrari because i am on redbull duty tomorrow 🙏

charles_leclerc Always happy you're by my side, amoúr. Je táime 😘

maxverstappen Will never get used to this 🤮

ynverstappen we've literally been together for 3 years

maxverstappen And by favorite driver ever, you mean me, right?

charles_leclerc Are you the one in the picture? Then no 🙂

scuderiaferrari Red is your color, Y/N! ❤️

redbullracing Absolutely not, we do not think so!

scuderiaferrari Respectfully, no one asked you.

lestappen16 Love how even the team admins are in their own playful feud 😭

pierreluvr someone give y/n a break from dealing with charles and max lmaooowjwjsjsj

maxverstappen Why are you making it sound like supporting me at redbull is a responsibility and not something you want to do? 😔

charles_leclerc Because it's not.

ynverstappen jesus i just want one peaceful race is it so hard to ask for

ynverstappen

liked by maxverstappen, arthurleclerc, isahernaez, and 780,223 others

ynverstappen watching today's race from the redbull garage! wishing my dearest brother the best today, please stop believing the rumors he spreads re: me hating red bull. he is overdramatic. anyway, here's a selfie of max and i at quali yesterday! 🤍

tagged: maxverstappen

charles_leclerc You're not in our garage? Okay that makes me sad then 💔

ynverstappen will still root for you, don't worry 😁

maxverstappen Not under my watch you're not

maxverstappen My own sister wearing a ferrari jacket beside her brother who races for red bull. The betrayal is just so.

charles_leclerc Deserved.

f1fann NOT CHARLES SAYING DESERVED?@?@*@*

redbullracing We love having you here, Y/N 🖤

scuderiaferrari 😒

ynverstappen

liked by pierregasly, redbullracing, scuderiaferrari, and 450,221 others

ynverstappen my boys have done it again! congratulations on the podium, men who continuously pester me at every race weekend ❤️

tagged: maxverstappen & charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc My biggest fan ❤️ Je tàime, baby!

maxverstappen That's literally my sister

charles_leclerc She's literally my girlfriend

maxverstappen #1 supporter! Love you to bits, sister 😄

ferraredbull LESTAPPEN WINS ONCE AGAIN

vers166 y/n should get an award for dealing w charles and max everyday

ynverstappen amen sister 🙏

landonorris Leave them and support me at McLaren!

charles_leclerc ??

maxverstappen No.

----------

tagging: @slytherheign

notes: ig imagines take sooo long 😭 lmk what u guys think!

#writtenbyrae #charles leclerc #max verstappen #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc insta au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc instagram imagine #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x oc #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #formula 1 instagram imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 instagram imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 fluff

[igotanidea]

Run baby, run: AK!Jason x reader

part 2 to Somebody's watching me.

She looked so peaceful. So innocent.

And completely oblivious to the fact that the casual outing she went to with her friends was carefully observed by a pair of eyes, hidden under a metal helmet.

Or was she-?

He was like a predator.

Waiting for a single mistake of his prey to take a change and lunge at the opportunity fate presented him with.

Whatever the mistake may be in this case.

But sooner or later she was gonna make one.

Part ways with her friends.

Get drunk and bibulously let some guy touch her.

Dance to the music to the point of exhaustion and end up on the couch in a stranger’s house.

And he would be there to prevent the aftermath of that.

***

For the last week she was going crazy.

Ever since that one night when she saw a silhouette on the rooftop it felt like someone has been following her every move, ever step, lurking in the dark, so close to her and yet, just beyond reach. However, when she tried to tell her friends about they look at her like she was making a joke. So obviously she stopped doing as much as even mentioning it, cause the last thing she wanted was to be abandoned by the only people in her surroundings.

Even if those friends didn’t really deserve the name.

But still – those were the only one she had.

Incomparable with the Waynes she used to spend her time with years ago, before all went to shit. But Jason’s disappearance left an everlasting scar. The only thing she wanted was to forget it all, and yet – the only impossible thing in her life seemed to be letting go of the past. And being in the company of Dick, Tim, Babs and the rest of the clan was making her skin burn and her stomach twist and turn with the incoming, checkless panic attack. Like her entire body and mind felt the pressure of the past on her fragile conscience and damaged soul.

And the only thing she felt like doing in the Manor was either screaming or crying. 

So she moved on, or so she tried to convince herself of.

***

Mistake number one was left her drink unattended when she went to the toilet.

Rookie move with the possible grave consequences.

But it was gone when she came back. Only fueling her paranoia.

Mistake number two was letting her eyes off her companionship and being left alone by the exit with some drunken and already horny guys.

But when with shaky hands she pulled out her phone, desperately searching through her contact list for a potential backup, those men were already dragged into the nearest dark alley and knocked down.

But her worst mistake was not calling the cab and deciding on actually walking home. In her opinion it was a way to get some air and calm her rapidly racing heart, but she freaking forgot it was Gotham.

Like a freaking fool.

Under any other circumstances she would never and the fact that the though of going on foot even crossed her mind was the perfect reflection of her shattered mind spinning like a freaking Ferris wheel.

Something was wrong.

Something was awfully wrong and she felt like she was a main character in some horror movie.

Like that girl, who you watch on the screen, screaming at her to not go to that creepy attic from where the most suspicious sounds come, and then do the exact same thing when faced with a threat.

A ruffle of the leaves. The sound of an empty soda can rolling on the street. The flap of bird’s wing.

It all made her feel like a Freddy Krueger was coming after her.

And maybe she was not so far from the truth.

Her pulse was over the moon, heart running out of her chest, breath quickening, legs starting to move faster and faster and faster as she started running. Not really watching where as long as it was forward and away from whatever imaginary individual was chasing her.

With wild hair, tears in her eyes and blurry vision.

She was so stupid. So fucking stupid and mental, belonging in the mental institution due to her damaged brain refusing to stop dwelling on the past trauma.

“WATCH OUT!”

Before she was hit by a car a strong pair of arms grabbed her by the waist pulling her back to the pavement. She closed her eyes in fear letting whoever her savior was hold her trembling form. As weird as it was, for some reason being in this embrace felt… good. And familiar. Like she belonged there.

And if it was another wave of schizophrenic images coming from her brain she refused to accept it, freezing at the spot and waiting for it to pass.

But the stranger’s seeming grip on her body did not falter. For a longer while that seemed both like an eternity and like a second.

“Y/N….”

It must have been a wind. It must have been a wind. It must have been a wind.

“Y/N…”

The second the voice hit her ears again she turned around abruptly, but there was no one there.

She was going crazy.

With wide terrified eyes, slowly coming back on earth she finally took in her surroundings.

Realizing, to her undeniable terror, that she was right next to Dick’s house. And even worse – noticing the lights in his windows. Which meant he was here and not in Bludhaven. And not patrolling. Which was an uncommon, if not impossible conjuncture.

The past finally caught up with her.

“Y/N?!” Dick noticed her outside and opened the window, holding back the instinct to just jump outside (from 3rd floor) like an acrobat he was. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? Are you ok?”

“No…” she sobbed “No, I’m not okay…” she finally broke down in the middle of the night, on the empty street.

“Damn!” a few minutes later Grayson was downstairs holding her for dear life. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Whatever happened, you are safe with me now, I promise.”

She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. Crying from fear and stress and helplessness.

“Shhh… come on, let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up. I got you.”

When Dick was slowly guiding her to his apartment, the same predatory red eyes were focused on the pair and the sudden need for vengeance sprouts buds, growing roots deep into the long-petrified heart, crushing down the ice it was covered with.

No one was going to take her away from him this time.

@vaniasagitaa @gone-batty-fics @astrelz @not-herexo @deans-spinster-witch @calicocat45

#jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #jason todd x you #arkham knight x you #jason todd angst #arkham knight jason todd