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junggunz · 3 months

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touch ft. dg | 🔞

summary: sex won't fix your relationship problems. but you can at least try. cw: fem!bodied reader, SMUT, tiny crumb of plot, established relationship, make up sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving) , really mild orgasm denial, p in v, creampie, tbh this is pretty tame so i can't imagine i missed anything...but let me know if i did lol. all characters featured are 18+ wc: 3.5k an: once again. killing two birds with one stone. a request + another song from the playlist checked off. heh

Long days, busy lives. Just can’t find the time…The excuses are the only thing that seems to fill the dead air between you and your boyfriend these days. You two had fallen out of routine, no longer calling each other while he was on tour due to your schedule sapping every last bit of energy out of you.

Is this where we are now?

So wrapped up in the bustle of your own life, it felt like you didn’t have time to miss your boyfriend. You never imagined the two of you would grow apart like this. Your relationship had survived past tours and you two had no issue keeping the connection alive, but now…you were wondering if he could also feel the way you were falling out of touch with one another.

On the day DG is finally back, a small part of him hoped that you would text or call him to welcome him home. However, it’s only a fleeting feeling as he’s swarmed by crazed fans waiting for him at the gate once he gets off the plane and the desire to be alone to decompress outweighs everything. By the time you had finally realized he had returned, it was late into the night and you figured he would be sleeping already. Your fingers ghost over the screen of your phone, hovering above the letters of the keyboard to send him a quick text. You type a message, then delete it. Typing out several variations of a ‘welcome back, I missed you’ the words never get to him and that’s when you start to realize, maybe things were really over this time.

Dating an idol wasn’t for the weak. And to make things extra difficult, you were trying to date an idol when your own life leaves little time to yourself—let alone another human with needs of their own— of course your relationship would start to feel hollow after spreading yourself thin just to get a measly hour or so together. During the five minute coffee break you set aside for yourself in the afternoon, these thoughts push themselves to the forefront of your mind, demanding to be heard and acknowledged for the first time in months.

It’s an internal argument between yourself as you wonder if you're the main culprit in all this. Maybe if you just put in a little more effort, things wouldn’t feel this way. But also, a relationship involves two people; why wasn’t your boyfriend reaching out? You wanna be understanding as you think about how much effort he has to put in to keep his personal life away from the gaze of prying eyes and spectators…but it’s just not making anything better. So, with the last minute you have of your little break, you send DG a quick text telling him that the two of you should set some time aside to see each other; purposely leaving out the fact you intended on breaking up with him.

Just like many of your other ‘dates’, you show up at DG’s penthouse once the two of you were able to find a day where both of you were free. The large space that was his living room feels just borderline claustrophobic after the two of you exchange a strained greeting. It’s like you were strangers again.

“You wanna end things, don’t you?” DG suddenly asks, causing you to jolt at the mere sound of his words; taken back by how easily he was able to see through you.

Your jaw trembles as your mouth seems to disconnect from your brain, all possible word combinations to form a response slipping your mind. Unable to meet his eyes, everything about your body language lets him know that his assumption was right. He knew you better than you knew yourself, what a fool you were to think that he wouldn’t notice. And how stupid was he to not say something sooner. Over the last weeks, the emotional distance between the two of you magnified the physical space between the two of you and he didn’t want to believe it. But now that you two were finally in the same room, he didn’t feel any closer to you.

“Is there anything we can do to fix this?” He questions in a somber voice, reaching out and caressing your arm with a gentle hand.

“I don’t know.” You answer quietly.

The response was only a half truth. You knew that you wanted to restore the connection between the two of you; but the issue was not knowing how to fix things. You hear DG hum softly as he mulls over your words, thinking carefully about how to continue this discussion. Studying your body language and the expression you wear, he picks up on the fact that you don’t really want to end things. Knowing your personality, if you were really over it, you would have left by now. Lingering around was never a part of your prerogative.

“What’s with the rush to end things? We can take all the time we need to work things out if you’re not certain about breaking up.” DG suggests. “I promise to be worth your time.” He adds in with a sly smile when you don’t immediately deny him, pulling you into his embrace as he stares you down.

You seriously can’t think of any reason to reject him right now. In fact, the sensation of being enveloped in his warmth makes you wonder if physical intimacy was a sufficient bandage for the rough patch you were going through— the more difficult issues could be discussed later when you had a clearer idea of what you expected out of this relationship. Right now, make up sex was looking like the best option to restore the connection you had missed.

Giving in, the two of you scramble down the hall to his bedroom in a record amount of time before DG pins you to the bed and is on top of you while you have your arms loosely draped around his shoulders, kissing on your neck and softly biting at the flesh while his hands venture under your shirt to grope your breasts. A small moan escapes you as he aggressively kneads the supple flesh through the fabric of your bra. He then reaches behind you and you instinctively arch your back so he could unhook your bra and you immediately pull off your shirt; the padded undergarment following after. Now that there was more skin exposed, DG was able to trail his lips from your neck down to your chest. Cupping your breasts in his hands, his mouth latches onto one of your nipples. Tongue flickering over the perky bud, he eagerly tastes your skin before sinking his teeth into it. You gasp in surprise at the slight pain only for DG to comfortingly swirl his tongue around your nipple and soothe the flesh. When his mouth goes to attend to the other breast, you find yourself growing more needy and move ever so slightly so you could grind against the growing bulge in his pants. Both of you moan at the contact before DG leaves your chest and captures your lips in a passionate kiss; his hands going to cup your cheeks. Tentatively, you return his kiss and try to emulate the same emotion but the surge of intimacy after spending so much time apart makes it feel like the first time all over again. Nonetheless when he breaks the kiss to see how you're faring, your cheeks are flushed and you can't help but feel shy.

“Are you doing okay?” He asks teasingly. When you open your mouth to scold him, you're cut off by DG’s tongue slipping into your mouth and immediately greeting yours. Pleasantly surprised by the notion, you let your tongues tangle with each other; thoroughly tasting one another. During the heated liplock, DG’s hands find their way back to your bare chest and play with your sensitive nipples. Continuing the kiss despite it gradually becoming more sloppy, you keep urgently grinding your lower halves against each other; desperate for more contact.

DG then sneakily slips his hand past your pants and panties; his fingers pressing against folds then rubbing gingerly. The action makes you aware of just how turned on you were, feeling DG spread your arousal before slipping two of his fingers inside you. The sudden penetration causes you to break the kiss as you toss your head back in pleasure and let out a shaky moan. Feeling the way that your walls pulsed and clenched around his fingers chipped away at DG’s patience. As much as he wanted to rush things, he had something to prove to you. So, as he slowly started to move his fingers in and out you, he watched your expression carefully. You lay beneath him with your cheeks flushed, lips parted softly and eyes closed. Giving a particularly deep thrust and curling his digits slightly, you moaned out loud, your hips lurching towards him. Liking the dramatic response, he repeated the action and started going faster. Much to his enjoyment, you started writhing beneath him and moaning more frequently; your hands going to grip his biceps for some sort of stability.

“Ah, fuck.” You whimper out breathlessly when you feel DG brush past a particularly sensitive spot. Your eyes briefly flutter open and you catch a glimpse at his face; eyes dark and pooling with lust as he observes you carefully. You accidentally make direct eye contact with DG and immediately get nervous, then look away closing your eyes. But he catches it.

“Look at me again or else I’ll stop.” he murmurs, his actions slowing down. As a knee jerk response, you start bucking your hips against his fingers to get more friction. However, keeping to his word, DG totally halts his actions. Your eyes snap open and you turn to look at DG again. You're greeted by a smug expression on his face and you stare at him impatiently.

“Well?” You question. “I can do this myself if you don't-”

Your words get cut short by DG's lips on yours as his fingers are rapidly thrusting in and out of you again. Moaning into the kiss, your grip on his arms tighten as you feel your walls starting to contract around his fingers. Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant softly, meeting eyes with DG. You both exchange looks of mutual desire before his thumb attends to your clit; giving you even more pleasure and making your legs tremble slightly. As his thumb rubs gentle circles over the small bundle of nerves in tandem with his fingers inside you, you feel your climax building rapidly. Incessantly moaning, you beg DG to keep going. Naturally, he obliged, urging you to finish.

“I'm gonna cum-” you whimper out, shutting your eyes tight as you brace yourself for the oncoming wave of bliss that was just on the horizon.

“Cum for me.” DG demands, staring at you intently as he waits for you to come undone under his touch. Those three words falling from his lips was enough for you to send you over the edge, your walls spasming around his fingers; letting pleasure wash all over you. Laying limp against the mattress, trying to collect your thoughts after the intense orgasm, the sound of DG's clothes hitting the floor snaps you out of your daze and you realize that the main event hasn't even started.

Slowly, you sit up and glance over at him getting undressed. At the sight of DG being totally naked, your jaw falls open slightly and you quickly regain composure before he could see your expression. As soon as DG takes a step closer to rejoin you on the mattress, you crawl over to the edge of the bed and immediately wrap your fingers around the base of his cock while one hand keeps you balanced.

Your lips slowly encase the tip of cock, your tongue massaging the underside before you gradually take more of his length into your mouth. DG groans lowly at the contact, his hand going to grip your hair and gives a small buck into your mouth. You gag a little at the action but nonetheless, suck him off eagerly. Salivating on his length to a point where it felt excessive, the lewd slurping noises that came from your mouth seemed so loud in the room. DG didn't seem to mind at all, and in fact it had only made him more excited.

The slickness of your mouth had sent him spiraling into a euphoria he hadn’t felt in what seems like ages. He was intoxicated by the feeling and had gotten so wound up by it, he took you by surprise when he tightened his grip on your hair and started guiding your movements. The look of bliss on DG's face was erotic enough for you; head tilted back with his eyes closed and lips parted. You bob your head along DG's length with his aid, fighting your gag reflex each time he bucks into your mouth. It goes on for what feels like eons and you wonder if you'd even be able to close your mouth when he's done. His cock begins to throb in your mouth and he immediately pulls you off; small strings of saliva lewdly connecting you to him still before they snap. Hair a mess, drool on your face and wearing a slightly dazed look, DG was more than pleased by the sight of you so disheveled.

Once again, you somehow found yourself laying on the bed with DG on top of you after he had finally removed your pants. Kneeling between your spread legs, you were totally exposed to him. The feelings of shyness you had experienced earlier were returning as DG had just ogled you while his hands gripped your thighs, keeping your legs spread before him.

“Are you gonna do something!?” You ask in frustration, feeling your body heat up.

“Don't mind me, just saying grace before I eat.” He snickers before lifting your hips from the bed and diving in to lap up the wetness that had accumulated between your legs.

Everything happened so fast, you barely processed what he had said to you before feeling his tongue dragging along your pussy. You let out a shaky sigh at the sensation, instinctively your hands go to grip DG's hair to keep him in place. He buries his face into your snatch, tasting you thoroughly and making you cry out. His tongue is relentless and leaves no part of you untouched. When the pink muscle slips inside of you, you whine at the notion because you know there's something that's much thicker and much longer that you could have inside of you instead.

You thought you would have been able to hold out longer but each flick of his tongue starts to feel like a tease. It wasn't enough. After getting a preview of his cock, you needed it inside you now. But alas, DG continued to tease you with his tongue and wouldn't stop until he decided he had enough. His tongue explores your hole, tasting your inner walls and slurping lewdly at what seemed like a never ending stream of your juices. When DG pulls away, you assume he's had his fill but he had just moved on to attack your clit. Due to your sensitivity, you started writhing under his touch.

“N-no more,” you whimper breathlessly. “Just fuck me.”

You can feel him smirk against your skin before he finally separates from you; his face glistening with your arousal and a smug expression across his features.

Resituating himself between your legs, he taps the head of his cock against your folds before easing himself inside of you. Both of you moan at the connection; your insides elated about finally being filled to the hilt. You wrap your arms around him and pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. For a few moments, DG remains still inside of you as the two of you engage in a messy make out until your essence no longer stained him.

Once he pulls away, he throws your legs over his shoulders, making you squeak in surprise before he takes no time in aggressively pounding into you. Each thrust has you wanting more; absolutely adoring the way DG perfectly filled you up. He was consistent in his movements and showed no signs of letting up until you were both satisfied. As much as you had wanted to stay quiet and not let DG have the joy of knowing how good he made you feel at the moment, it was no use. Even if you had tried to remain quiet, your body would give you away to him; whether it be your walls spasming around his dick, getting wetter with every action, or your legs shaking. They were all telltale signs to DG that you were completely under his control for the night.

“God, you feel so good.” DG groans out, giving you an extra hard thrust with every word. You clutch at the sheets desperately as if they were a lifeline because you felt like you were gonna pass out from all the pleasure you had been receiving. Your senses were totally overwhelmed by DG and at this point, he wasn't just filling your holes, he filled your mind too. Besides thinking about what he was doing to you now, you thought about other possible erotic acts the two of you could engage in at another time.

After the relentlessly hard and intense fucking, DG removes your legs from his shoulders, panting heavily, leaning his forehead against yours while you gazed into each other's eyes. His thrusts had slowed down tremendously but they were still just as deep. The intimacy of this moment had somehow managed to increase the lust you felt by tenfold. You wrapped your arms around DG’s sturdy frame, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. Craving a connection more raw than anything, your hands are gently pushing on his hips to urge him to pull back.

“Fuck me from behind.” You tell DG almost immediately after he slips out of you and creates some space between you.

You turn over and get on all fours, sticking your ass out towards DG, urging him to hurry up. Seeing how eager you were, you hear DG chuckle softly before he rams his cock into your waiting hole. Getting a firm grasp on your waist, DG begins thrusting into you at merciless speed. As your throat had become too tired to moan, you could only whimper as you took his cock over and over.

DG had forced you into an arch, your ass up while your chest was pressed against the mattress. The new angle had DG hitting a spot you didn't know existed within you. Every time the tip of his cock brushed against the spot, you would see stars.

“H-Harder!” You beg him desperately, trying to move your hips against his but the grip he has on you keeps you mostly stationary.

Nonetheless, DG’s hips start snapping against yours with such ferocity; you had to prop yourself up on your elbows so you didn't slip away from him. The sound of skin slapping against each other resounded loudly in the room; almost loud enough to cover up the lewd squelches from your wetness every time DG thrusted into you. With the repeated stimulation of your sweet spot, you felt yourself coming undone rapidly. As your orgasm built within you, your walls throbbed around DG’s cock, urging him to finish. Though tempting, he refused to climax until you did first.

Your thoughts were so jumbled that when you had finally released all over DG’s length, you couldn't find the words to announce it and were only able to let out a long moan. Walls twitching and sensitive, you had quietly prayed DG was nearing his limit and couldn't hold out any longer because you weren't sure how much more you could handle.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum.” You hear him breathily mutter behind you.

His words cause you to tighten up around him once more; shocked by the fact that was enough to trigger a second smaller orgasm within you. Your walls had such a vice grip on him, he was worried he wouldn't be able to pull out in time.

“Can I cum inside?” DG asks, desperation evident in his tone as he tried to hold off until he got your answer. You had managed to get out a tired ‘yes’ in response before he gave you an impossibly deep thrust and released his load into your pussy.

The warmth that had now filled you was the final straw for you and you took the tiny bit of energy you had left to pull yourself off his length before laying flat on the bed; closing your eyes and letting sleep overcome you. As cliche as makeup sex tends to be, the moments of passion you share with DG do a mighty fine job of reminding you how much chemistry there was between the two of you.

And being able to wake up next to him for the first time in ages would make you fall in love all over again.

#lookism x reader #lookism smut #dg x reader #dg smut #dg scenarios #junggunz.txt

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cxlamarisalxmi · 10 months

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Some Sunny Day

[Platonic Drabble]

c/w: angst, depictions of trauma and injury, character death, no gendered terms used to describe reader

a/n: I couldn’t help it, the part two of the Spider-Venom reader is in the works and is being written and edited consistently and progressively, but this was inspired by me feeling in the shits about my trauma so.. here we are lol

—

[Unedited]

We’ll meet again

You hadn’t given much thought to how you would die, not ever really considering the thousands of possibilities that would result in the loss of your life. Never really finding the consideration of those pathways important enough to think about long enough.

Don’t know where, don’t know when

Perhaps you should have— maybe this wouldn’t be happening otherwise. That’s a lie, because death is inevitable.. it was coming for you one way or another. Perhaps it wasn’t you trying to trick yourself into believing you could avoid it— but prepare yourself for it instead. Had you considered all possibilities of death then maybe you could’ve prepared yourself for the painful one you had come to face.

But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day

It did not announce itself, did not trumpet it’s arrival. It had been silent, quiet in the darkness as it coiled itself around your throat pulling you off your feet. By the time you had seen it coming.. it had already set it’s teeth.

Keep smiling through

You didn’t wish for anyone to be sad for you, it was a good life you had lived. Sure, it didn’t start out too great but it had been decent.. and then it had turned for the better when you had found them.

Just like you always do

You didn’t want anyone to force their lives to a screeching halt for your sake, that wasn’t fair.. and you knew that regardless of what you had thought— they would celebrate your life everyday from here on out. Now settled in the acceptance of grief, the stage that had come after a long and painful endurance through denial, anger, bargaining and depression.

‘Till the blue sky drives the dark clouds far away

They had felt such a dark and heavy cloud hanging over them since your death, and they had grown accustomed to it. Not bothering to address the way all of them were feeling about losing you. Suppress it down and ignore the searing ache in their chests —they believe— being the best way to overcome it and grow forward.

But you knew that was utter bullshit and you had wished they knew that too. Ignoring it will only make it worse, because ignorance allows the pain to linger. And if it lingers long enough it will fester and grow into a raging inferno that will swallow them whole.

Only in acceptance could they move forward, only in accepting that you were gone could they move on. Grow past it and become stronger together. And you believed they could, they just had to let themselves do it in their own time— at their own pace.

And eventually, that dense and weighted cloud overhanging them would be driven away.

So will you please say hello

You were Miguel O’hara’s eldest. And you had been with him through everything, after the loss of your younger sister the two of you couldn’t overcome the grief that had overwhelmed you both. And in the wake of that dimension’s destruction— there had been a wedge driven in between you and him.

Your relationship, previously stronger than any trial or tribulation life had thrown your way, had shattered to pieces. And you had attempted to at least pick up the shambles and put your bond back together.. but you had met a wall every time. A wall your father had built around himself to protect his broken heart and vulnerable soul from ever being touched again.

He hadn’t made an effort.. so you figured you shouldn’t either, and just accepted the turn of his back on top of the ache you felt at the loss of your younger sibling. The weight of guilt at killing all those innocent people had become the icing on this shit cake.

To the folks that I know

It was hard for you to grow past what had happened, because you were doing it on your own. In the wake of it all, it was you and only you trying to mend yourself back together. What hurt the most was that you had depended on your father to be there for you.. you had expected that this would only make your relationship stronger. Not tear it apart.

And it was naive of you to think such a thing, childish and ignorant of you to dispose of your initial thoughts that he would react this way. Because maybe if you had you’d have been far more prepared to take the bullet that his neglectful response had fired at you.

In the end of it all —the final steps you had taken to improve yourself— you had developed a fierce sense of independence. Nobody has your back better than you. And that was the unfortunate and heartbreaking truth that you had faced head on, it was a hard pill to swallow but it was necessary for you to move forward.

You garbled a cough, the gob of blood previously sitting in your throat jacked up to spill down your chin.

You grunted as the pressure in your chest grew exponentially, the rebar pierced through your chest causing an uncomfortable sensation to sit heavy beneath your ribs.

Tell them I won’t be long

The young teenagers who have come to adopt you as their elder sibling will be heartbroken. You knew that well, and you hoped that you father had picked up on the subtlety in your message to not reveal you were dying.

They wouldn’t take it well, and you knew they would follow your father to this dimension. The last thing you wanted was for them to experience more loss than they needed at their age. You couldn’t help that though, this was going to court one way or the other. What you could control was them being there in your final moments.. you had thought that maybe it’d go down easier if your father just told them you had gone peacefully.

They’ll be happy to know

It certainly would’ve been easier for them than seeing you impaled through the chest and coughing up the blood that had begun to slowly fill your lungs.

They’d at least have some semblance of peace within the grief and pain they’d feel that you didn’t go in pain. Regardless of the fact that this was easily the worst experience you have ever had the misfortune of dealing with. But they didn’t need to know that nor did they need to see you like this.

That as you saw me go, you saw me singing this song

When your father had finally arrived he had rushed to you immediately, his mask peeling away as he approached and dropped to his knees at your side.

“No, no no no, not again. Please no.”

“Dad…”

“Shhh,” he encouraged softly, “don’t talk. Save your strength, I’m going to get you out of here.”

“It’s too late.”

He didn’t listen to the way you quietly murmured those words, their execution breathed on a plane of exhausted agony. Your heart’s rhythm slowly fading from it’s previous thunderous beat in your ears. Slowing as it gradually eased itself into a state of utter still and silence, not having enough strength to continue to keep you alive.

Miguel wouldn’t let this happen again, he refused. As he thought of the best way he could move you he thought back to when you both had come back from the dimension that had unraveled. How he had shut you out, built barbed barriers thick and tall— and left you on the outside of them.

At the remembrance an abrupt ripple of regret shucked down his back, it made the blood in his veins turn bitterly cold. It was regret that was soon joined by grief that settled in his heart, heavy as lead sinking through his chest at the prospect that you would not make it.

And he suddenly felt knots tighten themselves up in the gaping in his stomach, because he didn’t even know what the right thing to do was. He couldn’t accept this, he couldn’t.. not again. But you were in pain, certainly worse than anything you’ve ever experienced. Not only that, but you were certain it was far too late for you.

He knew if he pulled you off that thick rebar pipe you would immediately bleed to death, if he left you on there you would die of a broken heart. Literally— the rebar had punctured through your heart and lung. Now both metaphorically and physically torn apart.

“It’s too late dad.”

“Please—”

You reached up to him, cupping his cheek as he laid his hand against your own. You lifted your opposite hand to hold his wrist as he brushed his gloved thumb over your bloodied and bruised cheek.

“Please no, not like this.. please there’s too much.. too much I have to do to show you I love you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to shut you out mi amor I’m sorry—”

You did to him the same thing he had done to you seconds prior and interrupted by brushing your gloved thumb over his angular cheekbone. You felt the familiar sting in your eyes and burn in your nose as you watched him. His eyes broken and devastated, the windows into his soul wide open as his defenses crumbled. His brows taut together and a hurt frown tugging his lips down.

“It’s okay,” you promised giving him the only smile you could manage. Soft and small— but full of all the love a young child has for their father. “It’s going to be okay.”

Miguel couldn’t contain the pain he was feeling a moment longer, and his ache had erupted in the form of the rivulets of tears gliding down his cheeks. And he listened intently to them as they spoke, holding them in his arms as best he could with the rebar through their chest. Still holding their face and leaning down to press their foreheads together, he internally wept at the way theirs felt colder.

“We’ll meet again,” you promised smiling up at him as he held you in his arms and kept your foreheads together. “I don’t know where, and I don’t know when.” You felt the way your heart continued to slow, the pressure on your chest increasing dramatically as exhaustion began. “But I know we’ll meet again—”

Finally the injuries had grown to be far too much, and you had only wished you had told him how much you truly loved him no matter what. How much you had understood his feelings and how you had already forgiven him for the toxic way he had decided to cope. Breathing felt like too much work, needing extensive energy that you no longer had.

Your heart gave up first, and the very last thing you saw before the black that had been seeping in from the edges consumed you entirely— was your father looking you in the eyes with the love you had craved from him since the loss of your sister. Your lungs followed after, and Miguel only sobbed harder at the way your chest rose, then fell, rose once again.. and fell.

He felt sick and angry at himself for the way things had gone, the regret he’d felt since the destruction of that universe was abruptly more pronounced in his chest. And he wept over your body, long since gone cold, as he completed the promise you had made to him. Whispered against the skin of your cheek —cold to the touch— and lost of all color and vibrant life held within.

“Some sunny day.”

—

a/n: when this was being written I was listening to life eternal by ghost and it just encouraged me to put as much ouchies in this as I possibly could so I killed ya!

#across the spider verse #spiderverse #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x platonic! reader #platonic reader #platonic relationships #platonic imagine

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multifariousqueer · 10 months

Note

Ok here’s my request and it’s not smut so don’t worry lol.

What if like Yn tried sneaking into Mike’s room with some good news or smth and she catches him doing the deed with another girl so she decides to leave and then he’s blowing up her phone but she cuts him off. Idk just angst angst and more angst lol

Ofc love!!!

A/n: It’s good to be back writing fluff, hopefully no one has an issue with this but if they do, oh well��🏽‍��️. As always, feel free to request, just know if it’s a smut req, it’s gonna be written on AO3. Speaking of Ao3, follow it, its in my bio ❤️

Warnings: Cheating, suggestivness, language, reader being a boss as bitch and cutting Miles off, angst, brief mentions of vomit, breaking in, toxicity

“Congratulations, Y/n L/n you were admitted into (your dream college). We look forward to seeing you in the fall!” the admissions letter read

It felt like you were working towards this your whole life; your parents sacrificed everything to send you to a great school like Visions and they spent a ton of money investing into your future. To be honest, it seemed like a fever dream at first; you had wanted to go here since you were 11 and you were making your younger self so proud

You decided to call Miles and tell him the good news. Your parents were already informed and they were throwing you a party that weekend and you had told your friends, the only thing left to do was to tell the man you loved most in the entire world and his family that took care of you like their own.

You tried calling but it went straight to voicemail. This was unlike Miles because he never left you on delivered and he never declined your calls, even when he was doing Spiderman stuff. You decided to take a short walk over to his dorm to see if he was okay, since if he wasn’t home, Ganke was and you could just ask him where Miles was. So, you grabbed the letter, your phone and your bag and walked the 10 minute walk over to his dorm.

When you reached his dorm, you heard moaning and it sounded like the bed was hitting the wall. Your heart dropped to your stomach and tears welled in your eyes.

“no. It can’t be, Miles would never” you tried to reason with yourself

You knocked on the door and you immediately heard an “oh shit” come from the room, followed by shuffling. You begged and pleaded with God that this was all a mistake, a dream gone wrong, something other than what it was.

When no one answered for a second, you opened the door with the spare Miles gave you and you saw him on top of another girl. The girl was blonde, blue eyes, tallish, had an eyebrow piercing and looked like she could dog walk your ex-boyfriend

“m-Miles?” you questioned

“Y/n, It’s not what it looks like; I promise” He said frantically, trying to come towards you as you backed into the door

You felt sick to your stomach; it felt like someone dropped a two ton weight on your chest and crushed your heart. Miles and you shared some of the best and worst moments of your lives together and you never in a million years, thought that he would cheat on you. His mother raised him better than this and in that moment, you considered calling her to tell her what a whore she raised. You ran out of the room and to a trash can where you vomited, your stomach emptying all of it’s contents and hopefully, all of the memories you shared

“OMG ARE YOU OKAY?” Miles questioned

“GET AWAY FROM ME” You said, running away

He quickly webbed you in an attempt to explain but you weren’t having it

“How could you do this to me?” you kept whispering as he pulled you close and attempted to kiss your forehead and hug you

“I-I don’t know, it just happened. I still love you, Y/n I’m so sorry” Miles said, tears pouring through his eyes

You stood there motionless, numb and with tears glossing over your cheeks. This moment didn’t feel real, it felt like someone took you out of your body and Miles was hugging your shell.

He let you go but not before you looked in his eyes and said:

“I’ve been there for you for four years. I have been your girlfriend, engineer, friend, and in some cases, your mom. I feel so sorry that a beautiful soul like her could raise a poor excuse of a son like you. Don’t call me, text me or do anything to me. You just lost the only person who truly cared about you”

Miles just looked at you with rage and sadness in his eyes. His mouth was slightly agape but you just shoved your letter in his chest and stormed off.

You told your entire family, friend group and Miles’ parents about the affair and they all took your side. Miles’ mom was especially hurt, seeing as she saw you as a surrogate daughter

“Dios mío, Mija. I’m so sorry, from all of us No sé dónde me equivoqué(I don’t know where I went wrong)” She said, offering you a hug and a kiss on the cheek

“Gracias, Mama Rio but there wasn’t anything you could do about it. He made that choice to sleep with her and he has to live with the fact that he lost me forever” you spoke into her chest

“Si, si. I know it hurts but you’ll find someone one million times better than him, prometo” she said

“Thank you so much for understanding. I’ll still come over and participate in family functions if you’d like.” you spoke, even though your relationship with Miles was gone, you still valued your relationship with his mother

“Of course, mija. You’ll always have a home here” she said warmly

She wiped your tears and you headed for the door where you saw Miles. It had only been three days but he still looked disheveled, sad and had bags big enough to carry a gallon of milk under his eyes.

“Y/n, please listen-“ he started

You put in your headphones as you walked away, heading for the subway and fetching a taxi. Your friends already knew and were waiting for you in your dorm with chick flicks and food

“Heyy, we heard about the news. We’re so sorry, and we are here if you need anything” your roommate(your best friend) said

“Yeah” they all agreed

This time, the tears in your eyes were from the support you were getting, you smiled and sat down as they gave you your pajamas and slept over

The next week was a blur of you going to classes, Miles trying to speak to you, your friends talking about how shitty he was and people sending their condolences. You guys were the one couple people thought would never break up so this came as a shock to everyone. The Morales family send flowers(paid for with Miles’ allowance) and food, your family offered to come get you one million times, your friends comforting you in any way possible and even your teachers being a bit more lenient with you.

Miles was a train wreck on the other hand, he was broke, sad, and alone. Miles barely showed up for classes and when he did, he looked awful and stank. Where a clean, soft, sweet boy had once been; he was replaced by a crumb bumb who couldn’t keep his grades, friends or family afloat. The only person there for him was the girl he cheated with and he didn’t even want her anymore. He craved your sweet scent, your infectious laugh, your cooking, your kindness and your intelligence and so much more. Everything reminded him of you and it was killing him, even Ganke stopped talking to him.

People whispered in the halls as you two would walk through and even in the classes you had together. You had moved your seat away from him and your teachers were gracious in granting your request.

It was now nearing Summer and you were grabbing your things, smiling and getting ready to leave to your dream school. You had given Miles’ stuff back(lead to him begging for you back but you just left), erased any pictures of y’all together, said goodbye to his family and had wiped your hands clean of him. You began to feel like yourself again; you changed your hair, clothes, makeup and hangout spots(you avoided any graffiti clad buildings because you knew Miles would frequent there), you even went on a few dates

Most of them were a bust until you met one, his name was Thomas and he was nice and he was good looking. Where Miles and you differed, you and Tom came together. You shared common interests and you felt happy for the first time in a while. It began to feel like you had your groove back and you were a whole new person

It was a gorgeous summer day, the sun was shining and the birds were chirping; you had just gotten back from a cafe date with Thomas where you talked about nothing but everything at the same time, he offered to walk you home and gave you his sweater. You held his hand as you reached your apartment.

“wanna come inside?” you had asked for the first time

“yeah, sure. Only if you’re okay with it, I mean-“ he stammered

“I’m fine with it.” you smiled

You lead him to your apartment and kicked off your shoes.

“Hey, where’s your bathroom?” Thomas asked

“It’s right down the hall” you called, grabbing the remote and lighting a candle

“Okay, thanks babe” he called

“Hey who are- AHHH” Thomas screamed

“THOMAS. THOMAS?? OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY?” you asked, running to the bathroom where you saw Thomas webbed to a wall with a figure standing in front of him

“Miles?” you asked in disbelief

“Hola, Mami” he smirked

#mcu fanfiction #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales headcannons #miles morales #miles x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman #across the spiderverse spoilers #into the spider verse #spiderman into the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanart #spiderverse #marvel #foryou

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marksbear · 1 year

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Cod Ghost with a bf who is a pornstar?

(Gay porn to be exact)

This just crossed my mind and I was like “hell yeah”

It will be something else if tumblr doesn't flag this one. I'll do it even though there's a 99% chance of that happening lol. It feels like i'm sinning writing this 😭.

Warnings! A lot of NSFW

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X PORNSTAR MALE READER

-When you told him about your job during yall's first date he was beyond shocked and a little jealous.

-He makes comments about the job since then, but doesn't fully judge you because of it.

-The fact that you're famous for it scares him a little.

-But once you two get more serious and dating long he'll begin to warm up to it. BUT he made rules for you to follow. Like make sure the man is clean from any disease, nothing too romantic/intimate or personal, AND especially the guy can not hurt you in any shape or form or wear protection or at least pull out.

-Feels awkward if hes at the set.

-If hes there while you're working he'll keep a protective distance. Not too close for you and the other workers to be distracted, but close enough to step in if anything happens.

-If anyone in the military making fun of one of your videos he would literally lash out. He'll beat the living shit out of anyone who says anything bad about you.

-Sending him your solo sex videos while he's out serving.

-He watches your videos while he touches himself every time he misses you/ horny.

-He's a little embarrassed to feature in your videos, but he'll do it ONLY if he's faceless. So really under the neck he's comfortable showing. What he didn't expect that the video would go viral on the platform.

-Your fans going crazy about the two of you. They love the energy and connection you two had.

-You convincing him to make more videos with him.

-During the live streams you sat on his lap as you answered questions etc. One of the questions asked "Are you and faceless dude dating?" You gave Simon a quick look before answering. "Uhm yeah! He's my boyfriend everyone!"

-The whole platform broke at the news.

-Him feeling insecure once in a while and thinks that you'll leave him for someone better or than your getting bored of him. And especially while hes in the military.

-So to try and ease him by only making a few videos with different actors or by yourself for your audience while he's out fighting. Buut when he's back you make however videos you want.

-Would never ask you to quit. He'll feel selfish asking it even though he'll probably won't quit his own job if you ask.

-Showing him your old videos before you got famous.

-He isn't ashamed of you.

-He won't hesitate to fight a creepy fan/ actor.

-You started his porn addiction. BUT he only watches your videos don’t worry.

-Making him cum early/fast just from a few teasing/moves.

-Doing things with him he’ll can never imagine doing with a different partner.

-He tries to mind his business with your work life and everything, but once in a while he likes to read the script about a video.

-if you have a specific company he doesn’t like it. I mean he likes how your getting famous and a lot of money, but he doesn’t like the way the company control you.

-You satisfying every thing he likes and what he didn’t even knew he liked until you.

I’m summary hes a keeper. 9.25/10 to have.

#ghost simon riley #mw2 ghost x male rwader #ghost x male reader #simon riley x male reader #Simon Riley x reader #mw2 x male reader #cod x male reader #x male reader #male reader #the bear club

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evan4ever · 5 months

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James March x reader. The reader is very innocent like they don’t curse, drink, smoke, etc. James just adores it so much cuz it’s the opposite of him. He gives them random gifts and special dinners (maybe some slow dancing). As well as tons of affection like cheek and hand kisses, cuddles, holding hands, and helps you get ready for the day. He’s very overprotective and possessive of them like a kid who has a special teddy bear, so the other ghosts better watch their backs if they try to mess with the reader. He never lets them know he’s a serial killer but they know he’s a ghost.

Innocence

Warnings: talk about murder just a bit but no warnings really, just a sweet fic again!

a/n: you didn’t really give me a plot andI wasn’t sure if you wanted lime a headcannon or not so I hope what I came up with works for you 😅 but with reader being innocent and almost too naive while JPM protects her and is possessive lol 🥹

—

You first met James when you had to find a hotel quick and one that didn’t cost your entire paychecks worth to stay in for a night. You were in the city for a last minute job interview the next day, and you were lucky enough to meet the owner of the Cortez who has offered you a deal to stay.

You were pretty blown away by his offer, having been at the lounge where you enjoyed a nice glass of lemon water before the man, who introduced himself as James Patrick March, approached you. After some visiting, and many odd but enjoyable questions from him later, he offered you the night for a discounted price of $15. You weren’t sure why, but didn’t dare object.

However, your original plan to call it a night by 8 PM soon turned to 11 PM, then next thing you knew it was 2 in the morning and James and yourself just couldn’t seem to pry away from each other. It was magnetizing being around the other, for both.

James was so beyond intrigued by you. He knew times had changed, and that modern day women weren’t as classy and “well kept” as they were in his day. But you were different, not at all like the females that trotted into the hotel, getting drunk or high and using such foul language with every word, wearing nothing more than a dress that barely covered them. No. You were the classy that James once adored and almost never saw again.

It drew him to you. Not just how you dressed or how you spoke, but your pure and complete innocence. It was something James wanted to protect, he wanted you to keep forever. And he’d make sure of it, if you let him of course.

Though he drank, he, on occasion, would use a foul word, and he had no innocence left in him — you were the opposite of him. And if it were a true myth, James believed it was love at first sight.

That night was the beginning of your most exciting, spoiled life; and that is said with confidence.

You had started returning to see James often, more and more often, until you practically lived there. You met many people, some you enjoyed, some you weren’t fond of. But it was many months later that James finally vowed his love to you, you returning the vow, and James filling you in on part of his secret.

You learned he was a ghost. And for someone like you, it didn’t take much convincing. However, you weren’t scared of him in the slightest. It did make you more cautious around the other ghosts and ghouls that forever took residency in the hotel, but never around James. And he promised himself he’d never allow you to find out of his dark side, the murder side of him. That was a side of him that he kept hidden away because he had found such joy through you that he almost didn’t need to feel the excitement of killing others by his own hands.

He knew someone like you would never be okay with murder. Especially if those who were innocent. And he didn’t expect you to ever change that part of you, so he simply never let you in on that secret side of him.

It was easy.

Besides Devils Night.

That was hard the first time you had been in the hotel during it. But, he was able to keep you preoccupied long enough with the help of Liz to get the night over with, where he expressed to the other monsters he guessed that you were completely and utterly off limits.

But the years spent together after that, Devils Night was never a concern. You never even caught on.

But the years spent with James were years he spoiled you rotten. He’d buy you anything you expressed interest in. He’d shower you in flowers. He’d run you a bath every night. He simply could not do enough for you to feel satisfied, because he was just that in love with you.

And though you were just as in love with him, he’d never allow you to go above and beyond for him the way he did for you. You would try, and he’d stop you. The most you were able to do for him was buy him his favorite cologne or alcohol, even when you had no idea about anything alcohol related. He loved the gesture, but never let you do much more.

You weren’t sure what you did to deserve someone like James. Needless to say, you never went to your job interview that first time staying in the hotel. And only a few months later, you basically lived in the hotel. Only some months after that, you stayed with James in his suite 24/7. At that point, you were his and he was yours. Even now, 6 years later.

You made it so easy for him, too. You never questioned anything. He was able to run three quarters of his life with you while using the other quarter to fulfill his murder tendencies and keep the hotel running accordingly. He even managed to keep you from meeting the countess, somehow. He had Liz and Sally to thank for that. He was aware of the mess that could bring, and he was in such a good place with you, wrapped around each others fingers.

That nearly came to an end.

“My love?” You entered the living area of your suite where James had been filling his cup with whatever alcohol he was drinking this time. He glanced at you and smiled brightly.

“Yes dear?” He sips while eyeing you so you’d know you had his full attention. You smiled, a half way smile, not your typical smile, and James immediately became concerned. “What is it? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, James, really.. it’s just.. I had an encounter today. With—“

“Elizabeth.” James finished your sentence, noticeably unhappy by this. You only nodded, allowing him to explain himself. “Ah yes. The time has come that I must tell you about her.” He sighs, taking ahold of your hand gently and leading you to the couch where you allowed him to help you sit, he sitting beside you. “Listen, dear,” he pauses, seeming unsure of where to start.

“I’m not angry, James.” You reassured before he could start again. His eyes seemed to relax as they remained glued to yours. “I just want to know the story from you.”

“What all… did she say.. exactly?” He asked, genuinely curious. He didn’t care about much of anything she could possibly tell you, only if she were to have revealed his deepest secret about his love for murdering, or if she had threatened you at all.

“She only told me of her past with you. I’m unsure whether it was a warning? Like, her way of telling me I should run while I can?” You raised your eyebrow at him curiously before letting a smile take place on your lips. “Not that I would ever listen to such a silly suggestion. I love you too much.” You grabbed his hand this time, squeezing it. “I just had no idea you were ever married.”

James sighed but held your hand tightly, bringing it up to his lips and placing a soft kiss to your knuckles before setting and holding it against his chest.

“I was, yes. A long, long… long time ago. Elizabeth being the original owner of this hotel, we married and I took over. I showered her with all my love, I gave her everything. I thought she was my one and only.” James goes quiet as you tilt your head, letting him finish. “I know now how very wrong I was.” He met your eyes again with sincerity, squeezing your hands that he was still holding against his chest.

“So what happened?” You asked, curious to know more about him. James kept things hidden from you, you were aware of that. But you were much too in love to question him too much, and some things you knew better than to want to know, so you were okay with being kept in the dark. But since this was an opportunity to learn a little more about his past, you couldn’t help but indulge in it.

“She was only using me, dear. I was a means to fill a void that I wasn’t aware was empty and longing for a past lover. She loved my gifts and my attention. But had no interest in loving me like I did her. Later, her past lover showed up out of nowhere and she was planning to run away with him. After that, I no longer cared for her.”

“But, she’s still here? Why?”

James went silent, not sure how to fill this part of the story. He didn’t kill Rudolph or Natacha. But he did lock them in this hotel and remove the door so they’d have to spend eternity here… since they were already vampires and couldn’t die. James felt it was a nice revenge on his now ex-wife, she believes they re-abandoned her all over again. She loves her life in anger and wonder, and it’s so sweet for James to see.

“They left her. Abandoned her again.” He nodded. You frown, feeling somewhat sympathetic for Elizabeth. “Don’t frown for the woman!” James states, a deep frown on his own face. “She was a monster, dear. I know you’re not one to feel this way for anyone you know but, she got all she deserved.”

You gazed at him for a moment as you took in his words before sighing and taking your hands from hi, resting one hand on the side of his face. “I do love you, James. So very much.” James leans into your hand, his eyes closing as he takes in the feeling of your skin against his, your scent so strong and as intoxicating as the alcohol he sips daily. “You don’t have to feel anger anymore, though. You can let it go, all the hurt and betrayal that woman caused you. She is no longer worth your while. For your own happiness, you should let it go.”

James listened to you, knowing your words held so much truth. It amazes him at times, how a woman of your culture could be so intelligent, so mature past your young age. He was blessed beyond words.

“You’re right, dear. You are very right.” He takes ahold of and turns his face into your hand, kissing from your palm up the majority of your soft, fragile arm. You smiled in awe as you watched him, his eyes glancing up to meet yours. “You amaze be every day.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Because you keep me on my toes every day. Never can know just what to expect here, but I would never trade it for anything.”

—

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em1e · 10 months

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万次郎 // TO BE YOURS ⠀ ༝ ༝ mikey sano ⠀ ༝ ༝ 1.4k words ⠀ ⚠︎ soulmate!au, angst? probably, violence, valhalla spoilers kinda ⠀ — imagine if your soulmate didn't want you lol!! insane .. right?

soulmates weren’t a rarity, by any means. most people had their own forms of figuring out who they’re meant to be with for the rest of their lives; the names on the inside of their wrist, the matching marks on a part of their body, other weird and non-specific things that you could write a paper on from how much you’ve researched and studied - all for the selfish reason of never having your own experience with your soulmate yet.

your parents assure you it’s nothing to stress about. that they didn’t meet one another until they were twenty-three, didn’t show any signs for anything that’d point to each other until they were in relationships with other people, but it still stings.

to be fifteen, itching to know what person could make you happy till the end of your years, and having no way to guarantee you’ll know. hell, your best friend's little brother was lucky enough to get the stupid red string! he’s four and met his soulmate in his kindergarten class!

but part of you supposes that’s how the universe works. it’s not your time, not your place to meet them yet, and that’ll just have to be okay, if only for the fact that there was nothing you could do about it.

and staying in from hanging out with friends on halloween is not the ideal way to spend your night, but maybe the universe has been against you from the start.

you just gotten a cup of tea from the kitchen, place it on your desk, stretch and sit before you prepare to tackle your algebra homework when it happens.

it’s for only a second, you think, but suddenly your body is hovering over a strangers, their face bloody and it’s your fists that are stained with what you can assume is their blood, your knuckles busted and burning and reared back for another hit.

but just as quickly as it happens, it’s over. you blink and you’re back in your room, cup of tea knocked over with the ceramic broken to bits on your floor and the contents staining the sheet of homework. you gasp for air, pushing yourself away from the desk and examine your shaking hands for any blood or bruising, but ultimately find nothing.

you’ve read about people who’ve met their soulmates by switching into their bodies randomly. read books on people talking about the most embarrassing moment in their life being when the first switch happened - quick and compromising. of one person being in the middle of wiping in the bathroom, while another was getting ready to get laid, but through each story, each interaction, they emphasized on how miniscule of a thing it was to them. that the initial shock of the swap stunned them more than what their soulmate was doing, and thus took priority in their memory.

the sight of blood is engrained behind your eyelids, though, and you wonder if those people were lying for the sake of it. when you shut your eyes too long, you can clearly make out the person who was taking the punches, feel the burn of your soulmate's split knuckles, feel the anger stirring underneath his skin and bubbling into each punch he was throwing.

you blink back the tears that try to fall from your eyes and busy yourself with cleaning the bits of cup that you can pick up, deciding then you’ll take what you saw to the grave.

༝ ༝

you read about getting used to the feeling of swapping as it happens more frequently, but you don’t think you believe those same people that made the claim that you’d forget the first time it happened.

especially now, out for dinner with your family, you think you hate the randomness of the switch.

you’re in the middle of eating a breadstick, preparing to argue with your brother on why spaghetti is better than ravioli when you’re outside suddenly, standing at the top of a set of cement stairs in front of a group of maybe a hundred? two hundred? people.

someone’s talking to your right, and a quick glance over shows you a tall blond, hair braided neatly down as he shouts about one thing or another, but you can’t process anything over the ringing in your ears. you look back over the crowd and note how everyone is wearing the same uniform, a peek down at yourself, and you see you’re matching them.

the guy to your right suddenly gestures towards you and you open your mouth to say something - but really what can you say right now? is your soulmate the leader of a fucking cult? you blink and you’re back in your own body, breadstick still in hand with your brother staring at you with furrowed brows.

“you okay?” he asks, waving a hand in front of you, “look like ya just saw a ghost.”

you swallow the bread you were in the middle of chewing, taking a sip of your drink shortly after with a nod, “um . . . yeah, i’m ok.”

༝ ༝

admittedly, you are a little more prepared the next time it happens. the tingle that settles under your skin just before you switch was easier to pick up on since you knew what to be wary of, and you took the opportunity to sit in front of your bed before it happened.

you blink and you’re in a room you could assume is your soulmates. you look around for a piece of paper and pen, careful to not disturb too much of his space as you do, and write what you think is a good introduction.

‘hi soulmate, i’m (y/n). i’d like to talk and meet if we can? my number is (xxx) xxx-xxxx, call soon :)’

you debate erasing the smiley face, but you don’t have much of an opportunity to do so when you’re suddenly back in your own body. you’re left waiting anxiously for the call, playing with anything you can to keep your hands busy.

and you wait. and wait. and wait. and wait.

until a few minutes turns to hours, turns to days, turns to weeks. you never get a call, and you’d hate to say you’re disappointed, but really what can you expect from your cult-leading, person-beating soulmate?

as if he’d want to call you.

you groan as another day passes with no call, wondering what could possibly make him dislike you so much, you don’t deserve to hear him say that himself. it’s not like you’ve even done anything that could be the reason for this - you’re left believing the sight of your room and even your family must be the cause for his apparent disinterest.

maybe his cult was keeping him busy, too.

you take a different route home from school that day, needing to pick up some groceries for your mom on the way, and as you’re digging through the bag, your shoulders bump with someone.

when you look up, an apology on your lips, you’re stunned to silence at the sight of . . . yourself, looking back at you with furrowed brows.

someone to your right taps your shoulder, and if you took a second to look, you’d see it’s the same blond with the braid from the cult meeting.

“mikey, you good?” then he turns to bow at you (at mikey?), “sorry about him. he has the manners of a child.”

before either of you can say anything, despite the long awkward pause between your first initial contact, the blond is dragging mikey (you?) away, and within the first step you take away from yourself, you’re being shot back into your own body.

and you can only watch as he’s pulled away, his friend and co-cult leader smacking the back of his head rather roughly and saying something about not being an idiot everywhere they go.

you arrive home far later than you would have liked – it started pouring rain soon after the interaction which left you stranded under a canopy waiting for your bus that was also late from the rain. you were annoyed, to say the least, soaked to the bone in dripping clothes and nothing in your grocery bag was safe from water.

in the middle of changing from your clothes, your phone rings. you groan, the device hidden somewhere under the pile you’d just discarded off yourself. still clad in only a big t-shirt and nowhere near warm enough, you search for it.

an unknown number stares back at you, and you frown at having rushed to find it when it was a call you probably could’ve ignored.

you answer anyways, just in case, “hello?”

your sweats are halfway up your legs when the person on the other end replies.

“hi it's mikey - your soulmate.”

#salmon rowe #mikey sano x reader #sano mikey x reader #sano manjiro x reader #mikey x reader #sano x reader #manjiro x reader #manjiro sano x reader #mikey sano #manjiro sano #x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers

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blissfullyecho · 1 year

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more harsh truths about life that will prob hurt your feelings and get me cancelled lol

1. scripting, visualizing, using crystals, affirming, etc. all don’t work in the real world. do the work. we’re not anime characters or superheroes— using your “brain powers” while you sit there doing nothing to get what you want is a delusion. script, visualize, do whatever you wanna do but thinking that’s the secret sauce to what is gonna solve all your problems is insanity

2. no one is responsible for your triggers. getting mad at someone because they forgot to put “tw” in the title next to the LITERAL EXACT TOPIC that they’re going to discuss is your own fault that you read it. you knew what it was gonna be about. if you know you’ll be triggered, move on. getting mad at people for talking about things that they had no idea you’re having a hard time with is no one’s fault either. you’re never captive to stay somewhere. if it’s triggering, you make the decision and the choice to move on and get away.

3. attractive people have the advantage of making anything look cool. for example (and no offense because my brother loves this stuff) but if you like anime, a lot of people think it’s weird. but if you’re an attractive person that likes anime, then it becomes cool because an attractive person likes it. looks = status and anyone with status could make anything look cool and be a trend.

4. girls, it’s better not having hairy legs and armpits. sorry but someone had to say it and i’ll be that person. you’re not creating a movement, you’re not proving anything to anyone. everyone grows hair, we get it. but if your body hair makes a statement and expresses yourself, then maybe you need to develop a personality.

5. speaking of personality; some of you are too nice. the nice guy finishes last. always. they seek validation, temporary satisfaction, and it reeks desperation. being too nice makes you look weak and a target to manipulation and weirdness.

6. models, actors/actresses, singers, anyone in the public eye are MEANT to look good and MEANT to look like a fantasy/dream. these people are not meant to be role models and they didn’t sign up to be role models. they were good at their craft and all of you as regular everyday people forced them to be role models because they had a public image. these people are contracted to always look good, set trends, and stay relevant in the media. then you guys started pressing for “inclusivity” and ruined brands like victoria’s secret, hollister, abercrombie, etc. because it got your feelings hurt. those brands sell stories and fantasies. those models sold those brands. STOP TRYING TO MAKE HIGH STATUS PEOPLE INTO EVERYDAY PEOPLE. work on yourself if it bothers you. it’s show biz, baby.

7. if you want anything in life fast, then you either have to have money, good looks, or great manipulation/bribery/communication/people skills. being skilled is a good thing, but don’t expect results overnight like you would if you had money, looks, or people skills. again, this is if you want something FAST.

8. listening to subliminals is a waste of time. wanna change your subconscious mind? get your mind used to living and acting the way you wanna be. do that for 3-6 months and boom, you’re a new person. *high five*

9. it’s cool to gatekeep. why are we telling everyone our beauty secrets and where we bought our clothes? i’m not trying to have anyoneeeeee have anything i have because when people catch on to something, it becomes a trend, then it becomes basic. so no, i’m not telling you what perfume i’m wearing. “i forgot” or “it was a gift”. let me be me.

10. ladies, men want to do things for you. no, that doesn’t mean you don’t have the capability to do it yourself. stop with the equality mess because a man wanted to hold the door open for you. JUST BECAUSE A MAN OFFERS TO DO SOMETHING FOR YOU, DOES NOT MEAN YOU LACK THE MENTAL OR PHYSICAL CAPABILITY TO DO SO.

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callsign-rogueone · 1 month

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intimacy alphabet - a.g.

Aaric Graycastle x gn!reader

The A to Z’s of sleeping with Aaric. (anybody remember this template from back in the day? if you do, it’s time to open a retirement account.)

words: 1.4k

🏷: NSFW. no real plot spoilers, just some stuff about Aaric, so if you haven’t met him yet, maybe skip this one and come back later lol. anyway, this is just a bunch of sexy headcanons about our sweet prince. mentions of penetrative sex, oral, and fingering, (all reader receiving) but I made it gender neutral.

I did this for research and development for his upcoming girlfriendverse fic (which I am writing completely out of order, of course), but I figured I’d give it to y’all as an apology / peace offering because I haven’t been feeding you much lately. enjoy! :)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

ever the gentleman; cleans you both up and makes sure that you’re okay, gives you soft praise. very nice to cuddle with; he’s content to let you use him like a body pillow and just wrap yourself around him and fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he likes his own build; he’s tall (as tall as Xaden, I believe) and pretty well-muscled from all of his intense training over the years. he likes the softer parts of you that he can press his fingers into, likes the feeling of your bare skin under his hands.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

standard stuff. will cum where you tell him to, no strong feelings about it. he’s a very clean guy, so he’ll wipe it up quickly after.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

thinking about his biggest secret of all… if you happen to let out a soft “oh, fuck, Cam,” when he’s buried deep inside you, he might stop being so gentle. but a truly dirty secret? hm… I’ll have to get back to you on that one.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

look me in the eye and tell me that the rebellious youngest prince of the Navarrian royal family hasn’t been around the block a bit. he’s had people falling at his feet for years because of his status.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

fond of missionary, you riding him, or anything where he can see your face and the cute little expressions you make when he’s making you feel good (and have you look into those gorgeous green eyes of his while he takes you apart. he’s very much into eye contact.)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he does not strike me as a “funny guy”. he’s pretty serious, but will laugh with you about small things like if you accidentally bump heads when changing positions, etc. (then he’ll kiss it better and go back to business as usual)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he keeps his face clean-shaven, so he’s probably doing some maintenance downstairs, too. he’s a very neat and tidy guy.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

pretty romantic, but not like, trail-of-rose-petals type romantic. just a lot of eye contact, soft praise, and definitely some “I love you’s” later on in the relationship. I don’t see him as a casual sex guy — I think he’s done with that phase of his life and he’d rather pick one person and love them with his whole heart.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don’t think he takes matters into his own hands very often. he doesn’t strike me as a very horny guy, and it’s hard to find the time and space to crank one out when you’re living in college dorms with a roommate (and trying not to die all the time). he much prefers to do things with you instead, anyway.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

some things I’ve mentioned already; praise, eye contact, you saying his name… idk if its a kink per se, but he wants to hear you. he loves all the soft sounds you make when you’re needy (being vocal during a makeout session is almost sure to escalate things). he gets off on getting you off, and it gives his ego a boost to know he’s making you feel so good that you can’t form words, just pretty little moans and whimpers.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his room or yours, that's it. he’s not an exhibitionist; he values his reputation, and doesn’t want to get either of you into trouble. you might be able to convince him to mess around in the shower before / after the main event, but that’s about it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

you, and the fact that you’re his. I know that feels like a cop-out answer, but it’s true. he’ll look over and see you in his bed in the morning, the early sunlight warming your skin, and he's ready to go.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I absolutely cannot see him wanting to be called by his title, etc. nope. no way. he despises it, and he also wants to know that you love him for him, and not his status. he also doesn’t want to hurt you during sex — there’s enough pain in your lives already. when that door closes behind you, it's only soft touches and gentle pleasure.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he had done more receiving than giving until he met you. he learned what you like (and how much he likes giving it to you) very quickly and now he won’t hesitate to get on his knees for you, especially if you ask nicely. he likes to use his mouth and hands at the same time for maximum effect. he’ll never decline head from you either, but it doesn’t happen often; he’s more focused on you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he fucks like a prince: proper. usually nice and deep and slow, taking his time with you and making you feel every movement. on occasion, if you rile him up enough or piss him off, he might give it to you (see also: make you take it) a little rougher.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

see above. has only happened once, and it kinda backfired (you ended up being late to formation and getting bitched at by the wingleader). now he won’t try anything unless he has at least an hour alone with you (enough for proper foreplay and some aftercare.)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

the two of you will experiment a little bit, mostly with new movements, etc., but you keep things pretty simple. if it ain’t broke… (and it certainly isn’t).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

your record is three rounds in one night, four if you count the morning after. you haven’t really had the time to try and beat it; school and training takes a lot out of you, and you’d simply rather sleep sometimes — but you’re both content to keep things at one round most nights, or just cuddle instead.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don’t see him owning or using toys (though it remains unclear what options they have in this universe). after he manifests a signet, that might come into play depending on what it is, but for now he feels like he has plenty of options already (his fingers, tongue…)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’s not a huge tease, but will make you ask for nearly everything with words, even if it's embarrassing to you, but he wants to know that you truly want this, and he finds it so cute to hear you beg for him and only him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s a talker, telling you how good you feel around him, how pretty you look under him, etc. sound-wise, if he’s in control, you’ll just get the occasional soft gasp / panting. if you’re in control, you might hear some whimpering… either way, he sounds so pretty. you should tell him that, and see what happens (the praise kink goes both ways.)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he only saw sex as a way to fulfill a biological need until he met you, and realized it could be so much more — he’s never truly loved any of his hookup partners. definitely some things he had to unpack there after your first time.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he’s tall, and pretty lean… the laws of nature dictate that he’s hung. I don’t make the rules.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

not super high, but he usually rolls with you — if you’re down, he’s down. simple as that.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he can’t fall asleep until you do, but that usually isn’t a problem; he’ll tire you out / relax you real nice every time. A+ cuddler, as we discussed earlier.

there you have it 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’m very excited for y’all to meet Aaric and Sunny. two sneak peeks posted so far + a few thousand more words in my docs, hehe

#aaric graycastle #Aaric graycastle x reader #preemptively tagging this as #Aaric and Sunny #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing smut #mine #18+#once again posting from my phone and I’ll reformat later (maybe)

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lains-reality · 10 months

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hello! i rlly love your blog and the way you explain things

how do i just apply? whenever i do i stress that i’m doing it wrong because i feel overwhelmed by the amount of info and things i have to make sure i’m doing right then i spiral and over consume again. i don’t want to rely on tumblr anymore.

what’s the simplest way to apply all of this and just “manifest” (i don’t rlly like this word bc it implies there’s a process or that i’m trying to get) my dream life? thank you

hi! ty!

it takes some courage! i also read a lot as a way to feel secure, but eventually i just got tired and just decided 'i have no more fears from this day on! done with this!' and i made it a practise to stop avoiding myself whenever something comes up

its all very natural, i can't say how you'll just finally decide that your over this lol

"whenever i do i stress that i’m doing it wrong because i feel overwhelmed by the amount of info"

well, learn how to stop yourself in the moment. you're putting too much pressure on your character! it only know what it knows now, it will not accept anything outside of what it already knows! thats why you leave it alone. read all you want to read, but stop when you feel like you have to. like you must. let yourself relax.

"i don’t want to rely on tumblr anymore."

good! keep going!

"what’s the simplest way to apply all of this"

just do it. try it and see. something that is a recurent theme in all the posts and book i read, is to try it. experiment. just for this one moment, let all the worries go. promise to never make problems for yourself again. you've given up troubles now, no more. just test it and see. surrender. let the mind cry and scream, for this moment, you won't allow it to deter you from freedom.

i'll give a list of stuff that helped me

theres only now -> stop bringing the past to now, learn to sit in the present moment

stop avoiding emotions, sit with the fear, discomfort etc

you already are Self! nothing can undo that!

be patient

non attachment (or detachment)

experiment - take something you already know and test it

question everything

find out what are the stories you want, what the desire will supposedly give you

it is not necessary to get rid of thoughts or images just stop deriving identity from them

"am i arguing for my limitations?"

soon more lovely thoughts and images will appear in your awareness and you can choose what you want

can you outgrow it? not you. observe it? not you. in the absense of it, you don't dissapear? not you.

be okay with not having it. get to a place where no one and no thing can disturb you (and your happiness and peace)

just see how absurd all this shit is. like i was born? what was it like before i was born? why is it normal to hear your voice in your head? no one knows what tomorrow is but we all worry abt it, where tf does the voice in your head come from? how can we actually identify feelings, what if the feeling pride isn't actually pride and you've been lied to? do you know how crazy this is for an infant?! we say we are an [x] person and that changes and so we say we are an [y] person, so who are we?? if we can change like that? being a human is confusing, seek the truth out and question all

just start to disidentify as the body-mind. when you disidentify as the body-mind you'll start to feel better as all the pressure you put on your character falls away. this will intice you to keep going as you feel freer!

have fun!! go and live life!! appriciate what you have now - this is all expressing the character, omnipr3sence, perfectly! you'll start to see "i barely thought abt x 2 days ago and now i see it here lol" "i was worrying about y and now i see it here too" "oh so this comes along with being the character too, maybe i should change that story"

you're in your own dream, see it as your dream and you'll start seeing the connections.

no need to convince the character, just move on. let yourself doubt this 'reality'

disclaimer: i'm still learning too! so please keep practising and have your own epiphanies!

reading

habit

no need to convince

behaviour

#lainsmail #to the other anon who wanted to start applying: here u are

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cinnajun · 2 years

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ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: nct dream when you're sick

a/n: funnily enough, i received this request when i was sick, and then mark + renjun caught covid hhh congrats to anon for being slightly psychic! this is more of a traditional hc style rather than my usual, but i hope you enjoy it nevertheless!

wc | 2.3k

from worst to best at taking care of you

jisung

don’t get me wrong, jisung is a good boyfriend and all

but he is NOT going to get sick

when he sees your temperature he nearly passes out

what do you MEAN you have a 103f (39c)

he leaves the room to call his mom and make sure you’re not going to die LOL

after that … he tries his best … but he gets a second opinion on everything

and he doesn’t want to get sick himself so he’s not the most comforting

but, once again, he’s trying

you ask for chicken noodle soup and he’ll make it, but he’s on the phone with haechan the whole time trying to make sure he’s doing it right

haechan tells him to make it bland and then he makes it TOO bland and you can barely eat it bc it just tastes like water chicken

the good thing is that he WILL be at your beck and call, so you could ask him for pretty much anything and he will get it

even if it has nothing to do with you getting better

you could be like “man i really want this shirt” and he’ll buy it bc you’re sick and he feels bad

he’ll stay the night to make sure you live through it, but you best believe he's on the couch or the floor next to your bed (once again, he doesn’t want to get sick too)

practically throws a party the first time your temperature falls under 101

when you get better he will shower you with hugs and kisses (the day you’re officially no longer sick is the day you receive the most affection from him you’ll ever receive in your life)

if you think he’ll get better at the whole nursing back to health thing, he won’t

calls his mom every time

at least he helps you get better! kind of!

chenle

ok it's not that he’s bad at it

like he makes a banger piece of toast for you to eat

he’s just a little … absent?

chenle fully believes that you know what's best for yourself and therefore will be able to treat yourself accordingly (which he’s not wrong)

you just wish he was a little nicer about it

on your worst day (aka the day when your fever is the highest), he recognizes that you probably can’t do much yourself and will help out as much as he can while still keeping himself not at risk for getting sick

gives you hot tea, washes your clothes, brings you medicine at the perfect intervals, enlists daegal to comfort you etc etc

he’s not going to be as distant as jisung is, though! he’ll kiss you on the forehead or give you a pat on the head when he comes and goes to get you more stuff

he might even sit next to you on the bed depending on how close you’d have to be

when you’re not at your worst though, you’re pretty much on your own

if you ask him to bring you something specific, he will, or if you forget to take your meds, he’ll give you a gentle reminder

i think the best thing about having chenle around when you're sick is probably how calm he is

he’s not panicked about your lifespan or anything (not like some others lol) and he knows you’ll be fine in a week or so, which reassures you whenever you start feeling like you’re going to pass out and die

he probably lies about your fever (he doesn’t want to worry you, so if it’s anything higher than 102, he’s going to say it's 101.5 or something lol)

you get better quickly! and, if you don’t, he’ll put in a bit more effort to get you better!

back to your regularly scheduled programming

haechan

the last of team “i don’t want to get sick”

he’s a bit like chenle in that he believes you’ll be fine taking care of yourself except he kinda has a meltdown when he sees how high your fever is

he’s almost in shock someone can get that sick

insistent on taking you to the hospital but you don’t want to go because you know you’re fine so now you’re bickering over it

“you need to get treated professionally”

“i just have the flu”

“the flu kills people”

“not me tho”

so for the entire time you’re sick he’s like begrudgingly taking care of you but in a way where he doesn’t have to touch you or anything you touch

puts a mask on when he comes into your room (thanks, haechan)

makes you take a covid test like 3 times a day even though it comes back negative every single time

if your fever plateaus at 103 or above and won’t go down, he will break his “i don’t wanna get sick” persona and drag you to the hospital

if it slowly starts to get better though, he will let up considerably

he’ll also stop making you covid test 90 times a day and stop wearing a mask whenever he comes to help out

he leaves you to your own schedule except doesn’t pay attention to when you’re taking meds like chenle does, just if you're taking them

but will ensure you eat and drink water

when you get better ur gonna have to deal with like 9 million kisses

it’s your fault you deprived him of them!

renjun

my dear renjun, aka the exact middle

if you have one of those annoying colds that just makes you feel bad but you don’t have a bad fever then he is NOT getting anywhere near you

he’d rather die than have one of those

but if you’re really sick, he’ll give in and nurse you back to health

except it’s kind of … awkward?

i imagine renjun as the type of person who never gets sick so tbh he has no clue what to do other than giving you medicine and making you drink water

you wouldn’t know it but he texts jaemin asking what he should do like every hour

imagine your dad taking care of you when you’re sick instead of your mom (unless your father wasn’t the awkward parent in which case just imagine someone who wouldn’t usually take care of you taking care of you)

that’s huang renjun!

he only ever takes your temperature when you’re asleep so you don’t have to witness him lowkey freak out over how sick you are

103?!? 104!? you’re killing him

he’d probably make whatever his mom made him when he was sick as a kid, so you’ll be eating pretty well

and because jaemin tells him to make sure you drink a lot of water, you’re drinking a lot of water. like, 20 gallons a day (okay well not that much)

he masks his panic really well though, so you (thankfully) won’t notice, not like you’ll notice with jisung lol

even though he’s not the best, renjun will probably be the one to get you feeling better the fastest because he’s relying on literally everybody else for help

the only issue is it’ll be the type of recovery where the symptoms linger for a month and a half because you returned to your normal routine immediately after your fever disappeared

enjoy the stuffy nose and linger cough !! at least your fever is gone and renjun isn’t making you drink nine gallons of water a day anymore!

jeno

the next trio are team “i don’t care if i get sick” but in very different ways

jeno doesn’t care if he gets sick because he’s not the most out-and-about person in the first place, so, if he gets sick, the most he’ll have to do is go grocery shopping while feeling gross

jeno gives lots of cuddles when you’re not feeling well! he spends 90% of the day laying next to you and holding your hand or koala hugging you

doesn’t panic, but you can tell he’s extremely worried, which makes you feel bad

documents every single fluctuation in your temperature and makes sure you always have some sort of cold compress to help control the heat

if it passes 104, you’re straight to the hospital, even if it’s just the flu or a worse-than-normal cold

like chenle, he’ll give you medicine at the exact perfect intervals, but he doesn’t stop like chenle does

rather than rushing to get you feeling better, he wants to make sure you return to health organically, so he doesn’t let you go back to normal with literally any symptoms

once the fever is gone, he lets up a bit, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stop helicoptering

any inkling it’s going back up and you are BACK IN BED!

jeno doesn’t ask for help when you get sick, which might be the best part about being taken care of by him

even if he’s worried, he’s sure to make you understand that you’re not going to die or anything and that you’ll be fine within a week or so

being taken care of by jeno means absolutely no lasting symptoms, a lot of water, and yummy food until you’re fully better

lowk you want to get sick .. tbh ..

if it means jeno will spend every waking moment with you, you’ll be sick forever

mark

now originally i was like

mark is def below jeno

and then i thought about it

so yea seeing your fever will make him panic because how the fuck did you end up with a 103-degree fever out of nowhere

but, in terms of making your sickness bearable, mark lee is #2 in that department!

if your throat hurts, he’ll buy you 3 bags of cough drops and 90 popsicles to soothe your throat

bequeath you 70 cups of perfectly warmed, throat-soothing tea

tells you not to talk so that you don’t irritate your throat more

your throat hurts for about an hour

feeling nauseous? mark is trusting essential oil moms and making you inhale peppermint extract while he unearths a state-of-the-art heating pad and any sort of nausea-soothing chewables he might own

nausea goes away after an hour

headache? he gives you the most impressive migraine medicine you’ve ever seen, puts a cold washcloth on your forehead, and makes sure not an ounce of bright light is shining into your eyes

headache gone

he’s like a wizard, i swear

on top of that, mark is generally a sweetheart, so he’s trying his best to cheer you up at any moment ever

he’ll recount stupid stories of the boys or tell you weak jokes that always make you smile and laugh

in the way that he panics, his comfort-performance skyrockets because he’s doing absolutely everything he can to make sure you’re barely aware that you’re sick

he’s so relieved when you’re better that he practically deflates

and then he ends up sick because he didn’t even consider the possibility of that happening lol

have fun taking care of him!! consider it reimbursement for the past week he spent breaking his back for you!

jaemin

if mark is a wizard jaemin is like a god

it’s so insane

he like predicts when you’re going to start feeling a certain way and gives you medicine to suppress it before it even HAPPENS

you might feel gross and exhausted in general, but your symptoms are always going to be minor because jaemin is a psychic and will not let them get worse than a minor headache or a bit of nausea

when you first tell him you’re sick, he’s not worried at all either

your fever could be the highest one he’d ever see and he’d just be like “okay, go lay down”

like chenle, he’ll monitor your temperature but lie about how high it actually is to make sure you don’t panic and make things worse (even if it’s high enough to make him start to worry, he’ll just suggest going to the hospital to make sure it’s nothing you’ll need antibiotics for)

will casually ask if you need anything or if anything is bothering you, but he won’t do it to the point that it starts to annoy you

similar to jeno, he’s not worried about the speed of your recovery either, he’s just focused on getting you to the point of recovery no matter how long it takes

has a pretty intense “let things run their course” mindset, and if you try to make a big deal about getting better to go back to work or school, he’ll just tell you to go to bed and let yourself relax

of course, if things get worse rather than getting better, the mindset turns off and he’s focused on a quick recovery, but that probably won’t happen

jaemin also gives lots of cuddles; hugs when you’re feeling oddly cold, or when you’re generally upset by how you’re feeling

kisses you on the cheek every time he leaves the room to go get meds or bring you food

he treats you like he normally would, which is almost like the icing on the cake with this

you don’t feel alienated at all when you’re sick, you just feel like you with a bit of gross on the side

imagine all of the boys’ good qualities mashed into one, and that’s jaemin

thank you for reading!

#cinna.txt #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream headcanons #nct dream reactions #nct dream scenarios #mark x reader #renjun x reader #jeno x reader #haechan x reader #jaemin x reader #chenle x reader #jisung x reader #nct x reader #nct headcanons #nct reactions #req

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darling-i-read-it · 1 year

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Survivor's Guilt

Chris Redfield x fem!reader, Ethan Winters x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: angst, breakup, lose ending because i cant make decisions, chris’s trauma^tm

Author’s Note: I would totally be down to do a part 2 to this if anyone wants ittttttt. Also I made Mia his sister because I hate her and need her to be so irrelevant lol. I wanted this to be better but alas we are here. I just needed to write something with my favorite resident evil characters. these two will always be it for me <3

Summary: Chris and you had been together for years and partners for longer. He broke up with you when he felt it getting too dangerous. Years later, when your boyfriend Ethan gets lost in Louisiana, you call him for backup.

Genre: angst, yearning

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Survivor’s guilt is defined as a condition of persistent mental and emotional stress experienced by someone who has survived an incident in which others died.

When you feel the pain in your chest when talking about an incident that you lived through that you shouldn’t have. When you feel like you are living for so many people that you have lost. When you imagine what it would be like for them if they had taken your place, if you had just been granted access to death. When you are not worthy of the life you are living and constantly being told you're the hero when all you were was the ending.

Chris Redfield has survivor’s guilt. He could not tell you the amount of people he has known that are no longer walking around with him. He could not tell you the amount of funerals he had been in or been to.

He knew grief like it was an old friend. He knew the inside of grief, the texture of the walls that caved in around him. He knew it like he was born alongside it. Grief was a twin to Chris Redfield.

He couldn’t look in the mirror without seeing his companions. Grief and guilt.

He’d like to think he knew the patterns better than anyone else. If someone were to know what it looked like right before he lost someone, it would be him. He wished death wasn’t so spontaneous. He hoped that one day he would save someone on purpose, save someone that he wanted within the world.

The warmth in his chest when he saw you was an indicator. It was a warning sign. It was alarm bells. The taste of your lips was a familiar feeling of something he should not have. The feel of your skin was a promise from the world that it would be righted again. You would be taken away. You had to be, so the world could turn, so that he wouldn’t forget the lives he was living for.

“You’ve been quiet,” you said, gently. You were sitting across from him, two dinner plates between you. His eyes flicked up to yours. You were so good at reading him. You were so concerned, like his personal welfare were your own responsibility. “How was your day?”

“Long,” he said, through a breath. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to scrounge up something else to say.

“Hopefully they’ll be more bearable once we get jobs together again,” you suggested. The two of you were working for the BSAA and often were sent into the field together. It was helpful for missions if you were both with someone you knew. Usually the job didn’t care that much, knowing that their people were disposable. Warm bodies were not a luxury in a world with 7 billion of them.

But recently you had a drought of time without each other. Different goals, same organization. You missed having him with you to help. You weren’t used to having to vocalize yourself because Chris could read you like a book. He liked to say it was a talent but you knew the truth. He had just learned you so well that he couldn’t know you any better.

“Yeah.” He swallowed hard. You met his gaze.

“What is it?” You wanted to make a joke. Don’t like the Chinese take out? or Jeans too tight? but you refrained. Something had been eating at him for weeks it felt like. He didn’t hold you as close. He was a physical person and his bear hugs were like they’re own luxury.

Chris liked to think of himself as a brave man. He was a lot of things, not a lot of them good, but he was at least brave. He took the steps that needed to be taken. He tried his best to save people for their best interests, not for him. So why was this so hard?

“I think we should break up.”

It was like he had broken the sound barrier. You looked around, searching for an indication that this was some sort of joke. Nothing came.

“What? Why?”

“I think it would be better for both of us.”

“You can’t speak for me.”

“I can.”

“No, no you can’t,” you argued. You were raising your voice now, anger that he was willing to let this go so quickly. “What happened? What did I do?”

Your voice broke his heart. The desperation, the scrounging for something to blame. He was to blame. Didn’t you see that?

“We can’t keep going like this.”

“What?”

“We can’t keep acting like this life is sustainable for either of us. It was nice while it lasted.” He swallowed hard. “Its’ what’s best.”

“Is that what you want?”

There was such a betrayal in your eyes. You had never looked at him like that. Not even when he fucked up on the job, when his mistakes could’ve cost him lives. You never looked at him like he was anything less than perfect.

“Yes.” He couldn’t say anything else. You would see right through him if he spoke again. You would know why he was doing it, you would know that he wasn’t doing this because he wanted to but because he had to. You couldn’t live much longer. He knew how this went.

Your breathing was ragged. The gravity sat in your chest like a weight. If you thought about this for one more second you would start to cry.

“Okay.”

He closed his eyes. Your voice was childlike. It was as though he had just chastised you for doing your favorite thing. You stood up slowly. Each sound was too loud. You tossed your food into the garbage, movements sluggish.

You went through the kitchen door and you didn’t come back.

He sat there until he heard your car start.

You gazed down at your bullet proof vest. You felt it in your hands, the weight of it surprisingly familiar. It had seen action. There were scruffs on the sides from the elements and the relentless nights spent sleeping with it on. There was a sharpie marking at the bottom, messily placed there by Chris. You rubbed your finger along it.

“What’s that?”

You looked up.

Ethan Winters stood in the doorway to the bedroom. He walked forward a bit, looking over you to the object in your hands.

“Some stuff from when I worked with the BSAA,” you explained dryly. You handed it to him. He took it, assessing the weight.

“Good thing you don’t have to wear this dumbbell all the time,” he muttered. You laughed gently, successfully being taken out of your nostalgia.

“It’s like five pounds Ethan.”

“That’s heavy.” You shook your head, taking it back. You place it into its box. “Ready to go?”

“Almost,” you promised.

You and your boyfriend Ethan were moving into a new house. He had insisted on living in this one ever since his sister Mia went missing, just in case she returned looking for him. But it had been three years and you had outgrown it. He finally caved, allowing you to go domestic house shopping together.

It had been eight years since you left the BSAA. Eight years since you had seen Chris Redfield, eight years since he had broken up with you. Up until Ethan, you had only dated guys around you which was slim pickings. You thought you had a good one with Chris but that breakup wrecked you.

Then there was Ethan. Then there didn’t need to be anything else.

You had a new life, one that had nothing to do with bioweapons you had once been so accustomed to. You had one that was, as Chris would say, sustainable. You could grow old in your new house with Ethan. Get married. Maybe even have kids. You never would’ve been able to do that before.

“The van’s ready when you are,” he said. “I’m gonna call for pizza.”

“Who said I wanted pizza?”

“When do you not want pizza?”

He left the room. You were alone once again. You shut the box up and taped it. That was then and this is now.

You carried the box downstairs and placed it among the others. Ethan swung by and got some food, then met you back at your new home. You had already started to unload boxes and by the time they were all inside the sun was down. You sat on a cardboard box, munching on cold pizza, as Ethan plugged in his laptop.

“That was exhausting,” he muttered. He had shed his jacket and was now in just a tshirt and jeans that he had sweat through.

“So you’re too tired to christen the house?” He gave you a look. “You wanna finish the pizza.”

“Yes I wanna finish the pizza.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

“I need to shower anyway.” You got up, swallowing the last of your food. You hummed under your breath as you dug around the boxes to find your clothes. Ethan scrolled through his computer wordlessly. You patted his shoulder as you passed him with your clothes.

As you walked upstairs, Ethan opened up his email folders. To the sound of the bathroom door closing, he clicked on the newest one. It had been sent the night before, while he was sleeping. He had taken time off work to move in but this didn’t look like a work email. It didn’t have a title.

He opened it up.

Dulvey, Louisiana.

Baker farm.

Come get me.

The conversation seemed too rushed. You got out of the shower and there was a bombardment of feelings that followed. Ethan wanted to leave immediately. She wanted him to come and get her, after all these years. He was already looking at flights, at a route that he could drive. The words and pleads came stumbling out of his mouth.

She needs me.

She’s stuck there, she needs me.

The instinct that bubbled in your chest was one you were familiar with. The preparation for a place that no human should venture. You wanted to give him a gun and a vest and let him be.

“I got out of that life so that you and I could be safe.”

“This isn’t like that.”

“You know it is.”

You were sitting down to his standing. You looked up at him with real concern in your eyes.

“What else could it be? That she’s been taken and then all of the sudden sends you a cryptic email instead of calling the police? How would she even know you hadn’t changed your email? Come on Ethan, think about this.” Silence hung in the air, fighting one anothers wills. You and Ethan rarely got into arguments and you still weren’t sure if you had the power in this conversation or not. It was his sister, sure, but something was wrong here. If anyone would know, you would.

“I have to.”

“Let me come with you.” Your mind flashed back to the unopened box of your old things. You could put that vest back on. Would there be any coming back from that?

“No. No, I can’t let you. This isn’t your fight.”

“Your fight is my fight.”

“I can’t lose you both,” he said, voice low. There was an air of vulnerability about him that mixed with his natural headstrong nature. You knew that feeling, the pit in your chest of losing someone in the search for something else.

“Let’s go to bed. Think on this. Okay? We can talk about it in the morning,” you pleaded. Maybe if he thought about it for longer than two seconds he could stay with you. You could have that sustainable life.

It took him a moment of contemplation but he finally nodded. You breathed slowly as you stood up. You had nothing but the mattress on the floor. It wasn’t going to be comfortable but it wasn’t going to be awful. You had each other.

He got his pajamas on slowly. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head. You wanted to argue about this more but you had already stopped the conversation. You had to stick to your guns. He would feel differently in the morning.

He got under the comforter with you. There was a lone lamp beside his head, giving all the light in the room. He turned it off as he rested his head.

“Ethan,” you mumbled. He turned his head back to you and for just a moment, his thoughts cleared. It was just the two of you again. It could be just the two of you forever. “I love you.” His smile softened. He moved towards you, throwing his arm around you. You nuzzled into his chest.

“I love you too,” he promised but his heart didn’t seem in it like it usually did.

You woke up before the sun. Your eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the darkness that engulfed the room. You groaned involuntarily. Ethan’s arm was no longer around you. You turned around to face him, ready to make some complaint, when you were met with emptiness. You paused, starring, delirious. It took you far too long to catch up to the obvious reason he was no longer gone.

Once it hit you, you started to move.

You threw yourself out of the mattress, running to teh bathroom. The house was still a maze to you. It would be home soon but it wasn’t home yet. The familiarity of it was missing which made it more eerie.

“Ethan!” you called, voice weak with sleep. You looked out the window, trying to find the shapes of the cars. One was missing. Your heart started to beat faster as you went into a panic. “Ethan!” you called again, louder now. You flung open every door desperately until you were back at the bedroom. Under the lamp there was a note. You rushed for it, almost ripping it while you snatched it.

I’m sorry. I love you more than anything.

I’ll be back soon, I swear.

You let out a shaky breath. You cursed, throwing the paper down weakly, kicking the wall.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whispered. You had to follow him. There was no other option. He had to know you would follow him. Despite it being 4 in the morning you turned all the lights in the house on. You searched for the box you had hoped to forget.

Finally, at your feet, was the recently taped box. You tore it open and grabbed the vest out of it. There was no use in dwelling on the signature or the comfortableness of it. You needed to get ready to go.

The Baker Farm was too far out of the way. You had started to lose cell service by the time you finally reached it. You had gone down the same dirt road Ethan had by the looks of his parked car. You wanted to slash the tires out of frustration. Knowing you were on the same insurance plan, you refrained.

You followed the lightly treaded walkway to the gate of a large house. The gate was locked and too tall to climb. You went around the edge to what looked to be the guest house.

You just had to hope you weren’t too far behind him. He had hours of a jump on you but you had seen his car. He was here.

You checked your phone. Nothing. Would you even get any calls out here?

You pushed forward through the guest house. It looked abandoned, like someone had just picked up and left dinner. The smell of mold traveled through the air. It almost felt like you could see the particles through the setting sun. Someone had left the door in the back open, leading to the long hallway. Something or someone had been pushed through a wall, resulting in debris flying everywhere. Someone had struggled here. Recently.

You fought the pit in your stomach and forced yourself to think of the best. It was normal. There were no bioweapons all the way out in the middle of Louisiana somewhere. Why would there be? Ethan was fine. Ethan had to be fine.

The tenseness of your shoulders was familiar. You did not miss the ache or the worry. You turned to go up the stairs. Deja Vu washed over you, brought on by archived feelings.

Chris attempted to never leave your side but he too often did. You were both used to finding each other again, it was part of the job. You could get separated by a wall or a weapon and you would find each other again.

It had been too long and the familiar fear creeped into your mind. He was here but you couldn’t hear him. He had to be here, his GPS assured you. The silence was deafening. You swore then to never yell at him again, if he could just emerge unscathed from the rubble of another fight. Could Chris Redfield go down like this? In the middle of some nameless mission, with just you to carry him back home?

“Here!”

Relief washed over you as you rushed back to him, moving aside the debris of a fight you had not been a witness too. Dirt covered his face. He was almost unrecognizable in the dried maroon blood that covered his body.

“Are you okay? Oh God. Oh God Chris,” you whispered, holding him with your hands like he wasn’t real.

“I’m okay,” he breathed. “I’m okay.”

You ached for the relief you had felt then. Ethan wasn’t as capable as Chris had been. Where would you find him? The top of the guest house revealed a larger view of the house. At the bottom was a man, a large mallet over his shoulder, dragging someone away by their feet.

Ethan.

He was unconscious but even just seeing him made you feel better.

Then you noticed the mold.

Something was wrong with that man, with that house. It was covering the ground, pulsating like it was alive. Instinct kicked in before feelings. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket, watching keenly to see where they were taking Ethan.

You glanced down at your phone, praying that his number hadn’t changed, and hovered over Chris’s name. You had never been able to do these things alone and you were no use to Ethan if you were dead.

You closed your eyes so you wouldn’t see yourself click the button. You put the phone up to your ear, listening to it ring, hoping he wouldn’t pick up, hoping you wouldn't be able to make a phone call this far out.

On the sixth ring you were beginning to lose whatever hope you had. Then he picked up.

“Hello?” His voice was wary but familiar. It made you weak in the knees, just hearing him speak, his cadence the exact same.

“I need you.”

You didn’t want to wait but you had given Chris the directions to your car. You didn’t want him to have to play catch up for you the entire time so you waited outside the guest house, pacing. You didn’t know how long you had but he promised he would be there in under an hour. You weren’t sure how he would manage that but you trusted his word.

Sure enough, just about fifty minutes later, he emerged from the bushes. Older. Weathered. His eyes were harder than they had been, less emotion behind his gaze. You reminded yourself you were doing this for Ethan, even as the rush of emotions had returned. You hadn’t seen each other since you had moved out.

“You came,” you breathed.

“You called.” You pursed your lips, wanting to thank him, wanting to think about the elephant in the room, wanting to beg him for answers that had been plaguing you forever. Instead you were gentle with your words.

“Thank you Chris.” He nodded once.

“We’ve been scoping this area. The disappearances here are akin to something consistent with bioweapons,” he said, walking past you. “Where’d you last see your friend?”

“Ethan was out towards the main house. I’ve spotted at least one bioweapon but the ground is covered in some sort of black mass. Do you know anything about that?” He handed you a gun without a word. You took it. It was yours. He had kept yours. It begged so many questions. Had he been using it? Did he even recognize it as yours anymore? Did he dig it out of the rubble, just like you did the vest you were wearing?

“A bit.”

“You’re being awfully cagey.”

“This is still work for me.” You nodded once. He was going to stay reserved. It didn’t matter what you two had, he was here for the job. This is exactly the reason you left without a fuss. It would always be the job and then you.

“Alright. Welll follow me.”

At the edge of the property was an older house, one that was falling apart at the seams. You managed to get around the bayou to enter it in an attempt to reach the main house, where you were sure they were keeping Ethan.

“What’s he doing out here?” Chris questioned. You glanced at him. It was like seeing a ghost in his eyes. How could Chris have become a stranger to you? How had you gotten here?

“Looking for his sister Mia. She went missing three years ago and yesterday he got an email from her with this location.”

“Not exactly tangible evidence.”

“That’s what I said.” You kept in stride with him. He pushed through doors, turning around quickly to make sure there was no threat. He led. You watched his six. “I told him to sleep on it. When I woke up he was gone.”

“You’re living together?” His voice showed no sign of emotion. He was asking as though you had never known each other. He was asking like you were a civilian and he was gathering all the useful information.

“Yes. He’s my boyfriend.” A beat in his step was missed but it was hardly noticeable. You pushed past him.

“And he didn’t feel the need to tell you he was leaving for Louisiana?”

“He knew I disagreed with him.”

“Sounds like someone else I knew.” The first allusion that you had ever once known each other. You walked in front of him as you crossed a bridge into the main yard.

“I listened.”

“In one ear and out the other,” he argued. He was detached from his words. You wanted to ask him why he had even come. Why hadn’t he investigated this before you called if he knew it was here? What was his angle?

“It always ruminated in my head for a bit.” You reached the yard. The house was vast and unfamiliar. It loomed in the nighttime air. There were lights on upstairs and some lamps in the main room. You approached the front door and attempted to open it. It didn’t budge. You hit it, kicked it, cursed at it.

“Move,” Chris demanded. He rammed his body against the door. You watched him, watched as he tensed his muscles through his tactical vest. The door remained intact but you didn't even notice after a minute. When were you going to allow yourself to admit that you missed him?

You looked through the window, cupping your hands around your eyes. You jumped at a face emerging from the other side.

“Y/N?”

“Ethan!” You put your palms against the glass. He was on the other side. The window was murky and cloudy but you knew his face well enough to recognize it through the blur. From the faint look, he was okay. He was alive. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m okay,” he said, weakly. It sounded like a lie. You narrowed your eyes but he couldn’t tell.

“I specifically told you not to come,” you said.

“It’s too late now.” ��Did you find Mia?” He took a deep breath.

“Yeah. Listen, if you see her you have to be careful. All of the people here are normal one second and then they are something completely different.” You nodded.

“Can you get through the door?”

“No. I have to find three keys.”

“Fuck,” you muttered. “Spencer Mansion all over again.” You glanced at Chris. “Listen, I brought a friend out here. We’re gonna try and get in.” You tried the door again to no avail.

“I’m gonna try and find the keys,” Ethan said. You didn’t want him to go but realistically couldn’t have him stand there with you, not with the apparent threats roaming the house. You nodded.

“Please be careful.”

“You too.” He left then, hand lingering on the glass. You turned to Chris, embarrassed. His jaw was set. “I’m gonna clear the trailer.” You nodded once, watching him go.

Chris tried to convince himself he was happy for you. You had made a life for yourself. That’s exactly what he wanted you to do. He left you so that you would make a life he could never give you. Granted, he never expected to see the fruits of his sacrifice. The longer he was with you the more it became evident to him that his emotions never faded. It was like nothing had changed but everything had. You were the same but different. You caused him to want to smile even at dumb things, like attempting to open a door you knew was locked. You were in love with someone else. He had never seen you in love with someone else. He didn’t like the feeling of watching you with Ethan.

His sense of duty overrode his emotions but even that wasn’t enough to stop his lingering gazes.

You adjusted your vest in the trailer mirror. There was a head in the fridge and a gun on the counter. You were glad you had called Chris. He reloaded his gun as he watched you out of the corner of his eye.

“There can’t be much padding left in that,” he said gruffly.

“Hm?”

“The vest.” You looked down at it, like you hadn’t even noticed you were adjusting it. Your finger brushed his signature.

“It still does its job,” you promised. “Why, you got an extra?” He shook his head. You turned back towards him. “That’s what I thought. I’d rather have this than nothing at all.”

You kept the vest he had signed.

He kept the gun you had used.

How long could you dance around this stupid confession?

“I’m gonna try to break the window,” you said finally. “To the front house.”

“You don’t think they have bullet proof windows?”

“We’re in the middle of Dulvey.” You shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to try.” Chris’s jaw set, nodding curtly. He followed you outside. He was weary of the ever growing black goop gathering outside. You tried to hit the window but nothing gave. You tried to hit it again, causing a more aggressive boom. “Shit. This gun was not made for this. Anything around I can use?” Chris started to look around his feet for something stronger. You moved along the deck.

Abruptly, there was a squelching sound coming from the middle of the yard, near the trailer. Both you and Chris raised your gun, instinct taking over before the thought process. You watched as the black goop grew into some sort of figure, barely able to stand on its own two feet. You tried to force yourself to act surprised but nothing came. It was life like it used to be.

Chris shot it first. It stumbled, just barely. You shot its head once and then twice. It came down only when the head was removed.

“You ok-” you started and was suddenly cut off when something moved behind you. You turned but it was too late. There was something on your shoulder, something wet and cold and big. You had figured because your back was to the house, you didn’t need to watch it. You heard the gunshots but didn’t see them. You breathed deeply as the blackness dissipated.

You stumbled backwards, hitting something else hard. You jumped, raising your gun, but Chris grabbed your wrist before you could even point it far.

“Hey, hey.”

It had been a minute since you were scared like that. You couldn't remember the last time your life was on the line. The shock must have shown in your eyes because Chris was holding your arms gently, looking at you with sympathy. “You’re okay,” he promised. You nodded. Your brain reverted back to where you knew that voice from and the comfort it brought. You cleared your throat, sitting up, swallowing hard.

“I’m fine,” you promised. “I’m fine.” You stood up, wobbling on your feet. He held your elbow. “I’m just a bit rusty.” He scoffed.

“Whatever you say.” He looked around. “They come out of the black mass. We watch that like it’s open space from now on,” he ordered. You nodded.

“Okay. Yeah.” You cleared your throat. The coldness was gone.

“What did I say?”

“Black mass is bad.”

“Good girl.” You cleared your throat, flushing. “Now if you ever want your boyfriend out of that house, we have to keep moving.” He adjusted your vest with worry and then walked away like nothing had happened. You followed him with your eyes.

You and Chris were outside debating if he could hoist you up onto the balcony of the second floor when the front door opened. You both looked down, eyes wide, as Ethan fell through the front door. He was clutching his side and a gun was in his hand.

You ran up to him, almost dropping your gun yourself.

“Oh God, Ethan? Ethan, are you okay?” He allowed himself to fall into your embrace, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You breathed evenly as you held him in your arms. You pulled away to see him, look him in the eyes. “What’s wrong? What’s hurt?” There was dried blood on his face. Was it his?

“I’m fine. I’m okay.” You pursed your lips, backing up. You looked him up and down and grabbed his hand.

“What is this? Are these staples? What is this?”

“I’m okay.” You gave him a bewildered look, mouth agape. His hand was held together by staples now.

“I told you not to come. I told you to wait for me.” If you thought he would live through you hitting him, you would. You were relieved he was okay but you were angry he had left without telling you, putting himself in danger. You had shared with him your stressors about past relationships and he had walked right into one of them.

“Who’s this?”

Speaking of past relationships.

You had almost forgotten Chris was there.

He stood behind you, eyes averted, chin up.

“Ethan, this is Chris Redfield. He was my partner when I worked at Stars and the BSAA.” Ethan knew the name and he knew the reaction he should have to it. He had driven you to do something you never wanted to do again. Ethan’s actions hadn’t manifested in you calling the man that had broken your heart. And you didn’t look like your heart was shattered.

“We need to leave,” Chris explained, not bothering with a hello. He was keenly aware of the situation you were all in.

“I still have to find Mia,” Ethan explained.

“Did she do that to your hand?” you questioned.

“There’s something wrong with her. I know where the anecdote is, if I can find that and find her then we can all leave.”

“She’s a lost cause,” Chris explained. “There’s no use in looking for her now. The BSAA is currently narrowing explosives on this area and we need to be gone before the sun comes up if we don't want to get caught up in his destruction.”

“I’m not going to leave her here,” Ethan argued. “The family here are infected by something. I think it has to do with the child she was watching before she went missing. I’ve found some infor-”

“In this line of work, we shoot first and ask questions later. I don’t expect you to know that Ethan but we need to leave,” Chris said, cutting him off. Ethan’s face hardened. You could tell the change in his demeanor as he moved his shoulders back, eyes going dark. You had no way of telling what he had gone through in that house and you had a feeling it was going to take a while to get it all out of him.

“Do you agree with him?” Ethan asked, looking at you.

“Don’t put me in the mi-”

“You’re in the middle. I’m putting you there,” Ethan said. “Do you think we should leave her and this entire family to just die?” You looked at him with soft eyes. This was one of the hard decisions you and Chris had to make everyday. You missed the naiveness of his viewpoint immensely. You thought you were working back towards it but it seemed the hard work never let you be.

“I won’t risk your life for hers.”

“I’m not asking you to risk my life.”

“Will you risk mine?” Ethan shook his head in disbelief.

“We’re losing time being out here,” he said. “I’m going to the old house and looking for that cure. Come with me or don’t, I don’t care.”

“You don’t mean that,” you said, reaching to grab him before he left but he brushed you off. You looked at Chris with pleading eyes, eyes he knew well. “We can’t possibly leave civilians here and nuke the place Redfield.”

“It’s their choice to leave.”

“Mia doesn’t have a choice,” Ethan called. He was already walking away. Incredibly conflicted, you stared at Chris, hoping for some guidance. He had never been the one to give guidance in your relationship.

“Chris.”

He had only ever turned you down once in his life. The look in your eyes could make him weak in his knees anyday. You could get him to toss himself off a building with that look. His jaw hardened.

You could die without him.

You could die with him, he thought. When had he ever been able to save others before?

“Chris,” you pleaded.

“We have four hours till sunrise. You and I will be gone by then.” You nodded curtly. He approached you before you could walk away. “But you’re not going to run around in that vest,” he muttered. He unbuckled the one he was wearing, untightening it as he lifted it over his head. Your eyes softened. He was still trying to protect you. Maybe he had been trying to protect you all along.

“Chris I won’t let you-”

“I’m stronger than you.” You smirked, looking up at him. He had a smug look in his eyes.

“I don’t remember you being forceful.”

“I never had to be. You were always a willing participant,” his voice was soft but disregarding. You glanced at Ethan who you could barely see in the shrubbery as he walked away. He took off your vest and placed it on the ground as he put his own over your head. “You need it more than me.”

“I’m just a little rusty.”

“I can’t risk a little rusty.” He tightened it around your waist, the same way he would help you mid mission before. It was warm. Was it humid out here or was it just the way his fingers brushed your skin?

“Thank you,” you breathed. He nodded. He put your old one over his head. He had left all the things in his tactical vest. “You want any of these?”

“I could do with a knife what you can do with a bomb.” You raised an eyebrow.

“You better watch out Redfield. I might show you up even with the rust.”

“I’d like to see you try.” You wrapped your hands around the straps and leaned back, tilting your head.

“I missed you.” He tried not to show any emotion but the words seemed so magical he couldn’t help it. He took a deep breath.

“You know I did it to protect you right?”

“I know now,” you said quietly.

“You have a life.”

“I have a life,” you repeated. It was like you were trying to convince yourself of it more than him. You looked at Ethan. In the moment nothing seemed more appealing than leaving with Chris and being safe somewhere other than here. You knew what you had to do regardless. “You know, in another life, I wouldn’t have minded dying in your arms,” you said quietly. He had that sad look in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have lived through it,” he admitted. You gestured with your head.

“Yes you would’ve. Come on. We have things to do.”

Part 2

#chris redfield x reader #chris redfield imagines #chris redfield x fem!reader #ethan winters x reader #ethan winters x fem!reader #ethan winters x reader x chris redfield #chris redfield x fem!reader x ethan winters #resident evil imagines #resident evil fanfiction

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romeulusroy · 11 months

Text

Good Mourning (Roman Roy Onesoht))

((SUCCESSION SPOILERS))

Character/s: Roman, Kendall, Shiv, Connor, Logan, Willa

Word Count: 1,621

Inspired By: I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: Last nights episode was such a hard watch, it brought back deeply painful memories and the only way I know how to cope is to write. Omg Roman the entire episode. Omg that fucking recording Frank or whoever brought up, laughing at it. I know it's only fictional, but still. Omg the ending with Kendall and the running away. Omg this episode, I will never recover. I wanna go back to when he was telling Matsson to fuck off. I know I can make this better so I will lol. Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

You’ve talked about death, about the forever-ness of it. You’ve talked about what you want arranged once you’re gone. He was always hesitant, afraid, as if speaking about it would make it happen sooner, faster. As if Death herself were listening and waiting to strike for the right moment when he let down his guard and forgot all about her. As if Death were like the people in his life: cruel. Parts of you have been scared of her. She takes and she never gives back. She leaves a hole in your chest where something should be. She’s made you scream and cry in the past, leaving this gut-wrenching emptiness inside of you. Parts of you have admired her. When she loves someone, she loves deeply, effortlessly, showing affection to those who have never deserved it in their lifetime. She takes all, never discriminating. She takes fully, everything that they are and everything that they become. Death is not something you wish to be scared of for the rest of your life. People try to outrun her by denying their age, their time well spent, but you? You know you will welcome every gray, every wrinkly, every line and deep groove. It is a privilege to be able to see yourself live. It is a privilege to get old. You hope you can do so by his side, hand in wrinkled hand.

Talking about it and coming face to face with it are two very different things, of course. You cannot take your eyes off it, the casket, heaving all the attention in the room. Inside is Logan Roy, the most powerful man you have ever met. The angriest man you have ever met. Gone. you knew there would be a crash. All his manic energy getting ready this morning, feeling on top of the world, pink cards in hand. You’d straightened his collar, smoothing his jacket, fearing the worst. You learned a long time ago that the Roy family burned as bright as the sun, hot and glowing, but they burned as bright as the sun, until there was nothing left of them. This morning he was the sun. He was confident, even joyous, but he was not feeling. He was not prepared for the reality of it all to smack him across the face as Logan used to do. There was nothing you could do to protect him from this, from them. This was not the funeral of a devoted, loving father, but of a monster. All his minions came to watch, to see if it was real. Was their leader really gone? It was a spectacle, another place of meeting. You were behind Kendall when Hugo started talking to him about Gojo. you shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were, though you would have thought they would have had a little more class. The whole way up the steps and through the church your hand remained in his, squeezing it ever so lightly when his rose colored glasses began to slip. You don’t know if he even notices, busy directing friends and business partners and even his cousin, who is not at all disturbed by his own behavior. Mencken gives you a hug that makes your skin crawl, but you do not object. This day is not about you, about any of you, rather it is about them and their grief.

You watch the pink cards shake in his palm. It's too late to stop him, to drag him back with you, to shield him from Death and her icy grip. What you wouldn’t give to go back, turn back the clocks, save him from himself. Ewan is finally finished, so he stands, shuffling towards the podium. You have given up on God a long time ago. You and Him, you never got along. But you pray to him in this moment, you pray that your love will get through this in one piece, that for once He will be kind to him. You pray and you hold your breath as you do, watching his hands begin to shake. His voice catches in his throat, tears welling up in his eyes. Fuck, you begin to think. Not today, please not today, not now, not him. Anyone else but him. Kendall, Shiv, Connor, they stand. You want to run to him, to hold him, but Willa grabs your hand. She can see what you’re thinking. She can see how dangerous it would look. What would they say if you came running to his rescue? He would be ruined. You can hear him, his head bowed: I can’t, I can’t do this. He is crying now, panting, motioning at the coffin. Willas grip tightens. You want to scream. Tears begin to fall down your face. Not for that bastard, the man who hurt him so many times he began to think that’s what love is. No, for Roman. For all the versions of him before you. The scared little boy attending his fathers funeral. For the wounded puppy that just wants him back. For the abused man that you love, that you cherish, the grief he’s been putting off finally settling in. He finds his way back to you, to the pew, shaking. Finally, she lets go, your arms finding their way around him, his head falling on your shoulder. You take one look back behind you, towards Logan's minions, and they are smiling. You shush him, his cries, wiping his cheek with your hand. It’s okay Rome, it’s okay, you say over and over again. To him, to yourself. It’s okay, no one will hurt you again, though you know you cannot make that kind of grand promise. You know it’s already too late.

Neither of you stay long. It is Kendall who thanks everyone for coming, shaking hands, giving hugs, until he too is tired of the charade. All the way there he sniffles beside you, his eyes red, his cheeks flushed. You want to stop the car, stop everything, give him all the time and room to cry as he needs, but you know better. This world is not made to accommodate. This life is not one you are free to express even at the loss of a parent. They expect you to be normal, not to inconvenience them with your grief, not to show it. You hold him, keeping him close, feeling his racing heartbeat. You couldn’t have protected him from this. There was no way. Not from the funeral, not from the “burial” , not from Death herself. How you wished you could wrap him up in a cocoon and save him from all the heartache. Instead the car stops in front of the mausoleum. It is giant and lacking life. Sterile. Monstrous. Roman does not go in like his siblings, instead lingering on the outside. You and Willa stand off to the side, understanding your place in all this. No one notices this, but you. The way he stands, hands in his pockets, hunched, as if he wants to curl into a ball. As if he wants to disappear. When they bring the coffin up, his leg begins to shake, then his whole body. Finally he stands, talking to himself, not waiting for it to be over, racing to the car. You know better than to follow. He needs his alone time, he needs the tinted windows, he needs to do what he needs to get through this. You hope against hope that he isn’t spiraling, heading towards self-destruction. He never learned that it wasn’t his fault. Everything, everything was because he messed up, because he did or said something, because he was a fuck up. Logan taught him this and you, very slowly, very patiently, were trying to get him to unlearn it. All of it.

The reception is packed. Too many people, too many bodies, they put an ocean between you and him. Roman struggles to meet your eyes. He’s back to himself, kind of, recovered in the eyes of the public. Only you can see him struggling, only you can see the mask slipping. He leaves you to get a drink, mingle, following his brother obediently. You want to remind him that grief is an all encompassing thing. It is unpredictable and powerful and it’s okay. But he won’t listen, shaking off any comforts. He wants to be uncomfortable, he wants to be in pain, it's the only thing he knows. The only thing he can love at this moment. You shouldn’t be hurt by it, but you are. He thinks he should be more like Logan, but you believe the opposite. You love him as he is, not for who he should become. You watch him carefully, understanding he does not want you near, unable to let him go. You talk to no one, you can’t even stand to look at them. The way they smiled, mocking him in his time of grief, as if the loss of father from son is to be taken lightly. You only take your eyes off him for a moment, but he is gone. You go to Kendall, panicked, but all he can say is he left. You’re running after him, calling his name, but he is too quick. Beyond the barriers he jumps into the crowd. Someone punches him, over and over, and you cannot help but scream. He keeps moving though, keeps instigating fights. You try to call him, but he does not listen. That same, scared little boy is running towards what he’s always known: suffering.

You’re not sure what to do, how to help. You’re not sure you can help. He's made his decision. It has always been too late.

#writing #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader #succession spoilers

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mendesblurb · 7 months

Text

Our Souls Underwater

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning ⚠️: Mostly fluff, one or two mentions of smut, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors.

Word count:~2.4k

A/N: The following fic is a “friends with hidden romantic feelings” situation and it is the result of the author spending countless amount of late night hours with this one guy, where they were just two people keeping each other company while completing their own assignments and exchanging stories about life before romantic feelings emerged along the way. Oops that was kinda TMI (my bad lol), anyway do let me know your thoughts and opinions, so sorry for this story being random 🙈

Coming back from any long hours of interview sessions or live performances always felt strange for Shawn Peter Raul Mendes. It was an exhilarating and exhausting experience that made transitioning from a stadium full of people, sleeping in hotel rooms or tour buses and performing for millions of fans to feeling the peace and quiet of his own home always take some time for him to adjust.

His therapist had suggested that he should find something to make him unwind after long hours spent existing under a microscope and flashes of cameras capturing each and every move he makes like a hawk watching its prey.

Everyone but him has formed some routine to unwind. For example, Connor would always want to eat pizza and binge-watch some new Netflix releases, Brian and Meghan were always quick to turn themselves into a pair of bunnies by doing something frisky under the sheets, and you on the other hand, would much rather be soaking long hours under a bathtub full of warm temperature water.

“Think of it as another form of self-care or relaxation technique.”

“You have to say that you’ve done it at least once or twice. Nothing to be ashamed about if you admit that you don’t hate it that much, Mendes,” Connor added.

“Guys, please, I simply don't like the idea of feeling like a boiling asparagus stick.”

“You will not feel like a boiling vegetable.”

“You know, Mrs. I cannot function without baths. I really can't picture myself in a bathtub full of warm water, especially regarding relaxation purposes.”

“Aww, look, someone is turning into Mr. Grumpy,” You said, a sly smile creeping onto your lips, “You know what can help you feel better?”

“Y/n,” he warned, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence by implying that the only thing that can cure me is a bath, I swear to G—.”

“Oh, enough with the weird bullshit reasons, Mendes!” Connor interrupted from the living room, “I’d bet you don’t want to admit to us that you feel scared with the idea of soaking long hours in the warm water, huh?”

You and Connor found yourselves letting out a huge laugh at the thought of him avoiding these baths because he feels scared of the water like a kitten, “I am not a baby,” Was the only thing Shawn said, accompanied by an annoyed eye roll.

“Hear that? Yeah, that’s the voice of somebody who needs nothing more than a relaxing bath to unwind his entire day,” you said in a baby voice, mocking the singer.

“Okay, perhaps I’ll make an exception. If ever I am in a bathtub, it will only be because my girl will be joining me,” He said with a charming smile, secretly loving how the way your face would immediately react to his statements or flirtatious remarks with a fluster written and visible all across your face.

It was as if one, two, or three seconds snapped like the hand of Big Ben or the one at the Grand Central station clock that never comes late, as you always found yourself taking a few short moments to digest each and every word and sentence coming from him and try to reply to something, anything but only for it to come out as a stutter.

“Would you look at that? Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new fast-track record. Only one sentence and I have the girl lost for words. I wonder where Mrs. Independent, I need no man exterior you claim to have?” Shawn said, throwing you a wink, playfully swiping his thumb across your cheek, and closing the distance between, getting dangerously close to where you were standing.

“Oh, shut up, Mendes!” You composed yourself and moved his hand away, “You and I both know I would rather do a whole list of other things than get in that tub with you.”

You said your last sentence so sarcastically, casually as such of every other interaction you exchanged together before grabbing your favourite ice cream out of the freezer and heading to your room.

The thing that some, if not most, people still cannot wrap their heads around is the fact that It’s been the definition of years, maybe even ever, since you both fully understood the true meaning of friendships that you and Shawn have been friends.

The best of friends that could go as far as the ability to exchange millions of sarcastic sentences, have never-ending conversations about nothing and everything that ranges from philosophical things to something as far as topics about the actual difference between sex for male compared to females for hours on end if time wasn’t a constraint, secretly craving the company from the other person whenever apart, exchange of daily text messages across multiple social media platforms, then having the once every blue moon bickering like an old married couple over the stupidest stuff according to your close group of friends, and all that with an undeniable sexual tension visible for anyone to question the true nature of your relationship and a huge dash of endless back-and-forth flirtatious acts or words exchanged.

It was apparent to perhaps even the whole world that for the two of you to had the very ability to share a friendship like that, and the miracle for two people to establish this type of bond was rather beautiful and bizarre yet strange at the same time. It came as no surprise that when confronted individually, none of you dared to make any vast gestures that make romantic feelings evoke even more than they already have, as both your heads are imprinted with the belief of the other not feeling the same way, or hate the idea of ruining this friendship over the possibility of one person wanting to confess their true feelings suppressed over the lifelong friendship and establishing something romantically together.

It was then a couple of weeks later when you all found yourselves in the same spot, just coming back from Shawn’s live perfomance over a few cities. But this time, it was all packed into a tight schedule that made the singer and the entire crew exhausted to the bone. It was difficult for Shawn, as it seemed like he was pulled into different directions simultaneously with no time to catch his breath. He hadn’t said a word to anyone since the last show wrapped up, and everyone gave him some much-needed personal space during the flight back. Exhaustion was clinging deep into his body and flooding his mind to the point where he just wanted to shut his brain off and forget about everything; so much that he found himself walking past everyone and heading straight to his room without thinking twice.

You knew how exhausted he must’ve felt, so before you reached his bedroom, you gently grabbed his arm, “I don’t want to talk to anyone right now, please,” He said.

“I just wanted to tell you that I am aware that the past couple of days were nothing but a hectic blur, so I just wanted you to know that I’m here for you if you want to talk about anything or just sit silently. I’m always here for you, no matter the time or moment you need me.”

Those were the last few words you said before letting his hand go, once again giving him the space he needed, and you knew that exhaustion had already taken over his body as soon as he lay on the bed and closed his eyes.

You didn’t know that even a few short hours later, he was still tossing and turning under the sheets, unable to shut his eyes or mind off and get some much-needed rest, although his mind and body felt exhausted.

His head turned around and looked at the clock, 23:01 it displayed. For a while, he sat on his bed, checking his phone for updates about anything before exiting the room to distract his mind. The corridor was dark, with only one light source coming from your bedroom door. The singer paced a couple of times outside your door, debating whether he should knock but thinking whether your nocturnal companion was still keeping you awake or had you already fallen asleep, exhaustion taking over before you could gain the energy to turn off the lights.

However, before thinking further, he found his hand knocking on the door. To his surprise, a light knock was enough to open the door, “Y/n? Are you awake?” His voice lowers into a whisper while peeking his head into your room, only for his gaze to fall into an empty bed. You were nowhere to be found until he heard the light sound of your Spotify playlist coming from the bathroom. You were there, and he knew that his next steps were risky or, more accurately, invading your personal space. But part of him didn’t care. Selfishly, he just desperately could really use your company.

And so he took a couple of steps until he was at the bathroom door, with each step he could hear his own heart beating faster and the sounds of the faucet as it hit the bathtub and your favourite singers on the speaker only made him even more nervous, second-guessing his decision.

“Shawn?” You say from behind the cracked door.

“Um, yeah, it’s me. How did you know?” He responded nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as his mind was still second-guessing and debating whether his decision was actually a good idea.

“Who else has a nocturnal side that they cannot kill?” You said, trying to hold back your laughter.

“You know me so well.”

“You can come in if you want, or it’s okay too if you feel more comfortable, we can just keep talking through the door.”

The singer finally decided to interact with you appropriately as he found himself opening the bathroom door and stepping inside. The sight of you greeted him in the tub. The room was illuminated with the soft glow of your favourite candles, the scent of essential oils that were for therapeutic purposes, white puffy bubbles all across the tub of water, and the sound of your favourite playlist.

Tonight was the first time he truly ever took the time to notice it.

“Sorry, I just- well, I know this is- I wanted to - I don’t know who else -” he was stumbling, couldn’t form the proper set of sentences at the mere sight of you. You looked beautiful yet angelic. It was apparent to him that you were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on, but right now, even as your hair wasn’t done, or any makeup didn’t cover your face, or you weren’t wearing any dresses that perfectly hugged around your body; that he found himself more mesmerised by how your existence was enough to make him feel all sorts of comfort that no therapy sessions, lavish parties or meditation could genuinely give him.

“It’s okay. You know we don’t have to talk,” You say, “Care to join me?”

It felt like gravity was pushing him to decide instead of his brain controlling his movements as he already found himself stripping out of his clothes. Meanwhile, you found yourself with your head facing the wall, feeling sudden shyness at the sight of your opposite-gender friend removing all his clothing from head to toe in front of you.

“You don’t have to look away, you know. I bet it’s not your first time encountering the male anatomy, and I am getting inside the water with you.”

“I know, but this- this isn’t like that,” You said, still choosing to look away, “We are not doing anything to satisfy a pang of hunger. This is something else. I don’t want to ruin this moment by looking into it as if it is something that-“

“Yeah, just something that should be fulfilled at a more appropriate time,” Was all your friend could reply before carefully stepping into the tub, trying to keep his balance. Once he settled up, he scooted closer to your side, not too close to minimise any possible distance, but enough for the two of you to be situated in front of each other.

As he sinks deeper into the lukewarm water, you are glad to see how a deep sigh of relief escapes his lips, with a tired gaze his eyes rolling from all the exhaustion, his body relaxing, shoulders casually leaning into the walls of the tub, and sight of feeling at ease, comfort, and gush of smile was written all across his face.

“Is it the bubbles that finally persuaded you?”

“Perhaps that or maybe the whole idea that I actually feel more relaxed in a way I never thought possible and not feel like an actual boiling vegetable stick is finally winning me over,” he said, and you both laughed at that.

Then, moments later, as the conversations drift to more illogical ones and the laughters died down, you again faced him, “I’m sorry, I can only offer my companion.”

“Are you kidding me?” He smiled, “This is the best thing that anyone has ever done for me all year long.”

More minutes passed by, as none of you seem to remember how long you two lay there. But, when the two of you started to yawn more and more, you decided to get out of the water, “Mendes, face the wall. I need some privacy while I get out of here.”

“You’re telling me you still need privacy? I thought we moved past that. Y/n, we have been naked in here the whole time!” He shook his head and laughed as he turned to the wall, ears perking up to the sounds of water gently splashing as you got out of the tub, and his eyes could not help shoot you a side-eye glance through the mirror.

“Prying eyes,” You said with a smile as your eyes locked through the mirror, wrapping the towel on your body, “You can look now.”

“Pass me one of the towels, too?” he said as he stood up from the tub. Your eyes were wide open at the sight of him standing tall in nothing but his birthday suit. You could hear your heartbeat increasing and butterflies fluttering across your stomach before your hands moved quickly to pass him the towel and turned to face the door, clearly feeling the sudden shyness again at the current situation you found yourself in, “Prying eyes,” Was all he said back, with a signature boyish grin and million dollar smile that you knew was already written all over his lips.

“This was actually fun, we should do it again,” He said, pressing his lips to your temple before hands gathering his clothes and walking out of the room.

What have both of you started?

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Thank you for reading guys... feel free to like, reblog, follow my account, leave a comment and my chat is always open for random chats or requests... appreciate every single one of you... ❤️

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Story Code: 160923107

#shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fandom #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes x female reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes story

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