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hannie-dul-set · 8 months

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HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [5].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. swearing, someone cries again, mentions of bullying, mentions of sex. WORD COUNT. 3.9k

TAGLIST. @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi @certifiedmoa @blueberrgyuu0 @primantha @blu3bell4 @nunugget @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @captivq @tocupid @seosalad @ddazed-lhs @gyuszie @mifuyuyo @error-cant-function @twocupsofsuga @flowerbe0m @dangerousconnoisseurbanana @laviesm @keikeu @elavin @chaemmie @rikisly @satsuri3su @gyugyubin @junhuicosmo @skzenhalove @luvkpopp @yansbolobao @emer-syn @eggomi @drunkinjake @soobiverse @deobitifull @haechanspudu @yawnzzn27 @7myoi

NOTE. this is the soobin chapter. before anyone says anything, i also used to be a loser in high school so i am very qualified to write about this. anyway, please let me kmow what you think so far! ty for reading!

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CHAPTER 5 — staring contest of death.

SOOBIN HAS ENCOUNTERED A PROBLEM. It’s quite a big problem— one that completely ruined his summer morning routine that usually starts at one in the afternoon. But it’s already 2 p.m. right now and he’s still laying on his bed, half of his head peeking out of the blanket as his eyes run over the text he received this morning over and over again from a group chat that’s been dead for a good three years.

[Shin Jaeyul: hey class of 20XX! met up with jindo and the rest the other day and we thought it would be great if we can all get together again! hope you’ll all be available for the reunion. i’ll send the details after this message but it’s gonna be held at seonghee’s family’s hotel so feel free to bring a plus one lol.]

[Shin Jaeyul: What? ANSAN HS BATCH 20XX REUNION. When? This Saturday, 6:00pm. Where? Chatoyer Hotel, Sapphire Ballroom Function Hall

“Just don’t go, man. It’s not like your attendance is graded.”

When Soobin finally gets the energy to come downstairs to eat, he shows the text to Beomgyu for a second opinion. They’re eating yesterday’s leftovers on the patio outside the dining room. It doesn’t take long for the rest of the boys to congregate on the lounge chairs.

“But a reunion sounds fun!” Jake throws in his opinion. “I met up with my high school buddies at Crown Towers when I went to Melbourne the other day.”

“They weren’t your buddies. They invited you so you can pay for all their drinks and ditch you,” Heeseung tells him.

“Hey, Matthew was there and he was glad to see me.”

“Matthew borrowed eight hundred dollars from you last month and never paid back.”

Jake simply shrugs and snatches a cold slice of pizza from the table. Soobin gives him a look of remorse. “Anyway,” Jay jumps in. “Hyung, you should go if you want to and don’t go if you don’t want to. What do you want to do?”

Honestly, if Soobin can help it, he’d never want to see anyone from his old school ever again. And he’d rather stay at home and watch the latest episode of JJK on Saturday night (and every other night, for that matter). “But...it’s kinda rude if I don’t reply, right?” is what’s holding him back. The group chat has been buzzing every minute, messages of ‘see you there’s’ and ‘I’m so excited’s’ popping up one after the other. Only a few others including him haven’t replied yet. “What excuse should I make?”

“Tell them you have a family reunion to attend,” Sunghoon suggests.

“That’s lame. They’re gonna make fun of him,” Beomgyu scrunches his nose. Sunghoon defends with “what’s so wrong with a family reunion?!” but Soobin is inclined to believe that Beomgyu would be right. He didn’t exactly have a pleasant high school experience.

It’s not that he was actively bullied, or anything. He just didn’t have a lot of friends. And not a lot wanted to be his friend save for the members of the manga club he was in— but that didn’t really contribute to his position in the adolescent food chain. It’s not like he was sociable, either. He still isn’t. He was just lucky enough to get adopted by Beomgyu and managed to get along with the rest of the guys after a good two years of living here.

“Oh, then dude, you have to go!” Beomgyu exclaims. “If you don’t go they’re just gonna talk shit about you still being a loser.”

“I am a loser, though?” he says.

“Yeah, but you’re tall and good looking and hot and that’s enough to get them to shut the fuck up if you show up and dip after thirty minutes. You know what, give me your phone. I’ll handle this.”

“No, wait—”

Beomgyu snatches the phone from his hands and plops down on the chair right across from him, the other four quickly running over and looking over his shoulders. Soobin’s heart races. This doesn’t seem like a good idea. He is right. It only takes a second before things spiral into disaster.

“Don’t say that. You gotta sound cooler.”

“Dude, that’s gonna get him bullied. Let me do it—”

“Give it to me!”

“You’re all useless, let me take over!”

“Wait, let me make one last revision—”

“No! What are you all doing?!”

When Soobin finally manages to steal his phone back, he nearly passes out when he reads the message he— his friends— just sent to the group chat.

[Count me in. Do I have to wire double the money if I bring my girlfriend? Nevermind, I’ll just send thrice the amount. Thanks :)]

Horror washes over his face. “I added the smiley face,” Jake proudly announces. Holy fuck, he wants to crawl back into his bed and never wake up.

“Who sent that I’ll be bringing my girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend! Why did you say I’ll be bringing my girlfriend?!”

His phone vibrates mid-fit and he’s greeted by a reply saying that they’re so happy he’s coming and they can’t wait to see him again. Soobin is not happy nor is he excited. “We can just get you one,” Beomgyu says, as a matter-of-fact, as if you can just purchase a significant other from a gas station vending machine. His face wrinkles in distress. “When’s the reunion again? Saturday? Jakey, do you have any rich heiresses that can pretend to be Soobin hyung’s fake girlfriend for a night?”

“I’ll call Mirae noona, but hyung, are you alright alright with someone fifteen years old—”

Soobin winces. “Please don’t call her.”

“I can try asking Hina,” says Jay. “I don’t know if she has me unblocked yet, though.”

Heeseung narrows his eyes at him. “Isn’t she your ex?”

“Jay dated someone?” Sunghoon gives Jay a mildly offended grimace. “The fuck? Why don’t I know this?”

“He’s always dating someone. But he also gets dumped after three days so I’m not sure if they even count.”

Before they could further into Jay’s questionable dating history, the conversation gets cut short by a groan from Beomgyu. “Wait. We literally have a girl living with us right now.” His words send a signal into all their ears. It takes a moment for it to settle, and when it does, it’s like a thinly stretched rope snaps in half in the air.

Oh.

Right.

You.

“Are—are you sure about that?” Sunghoon is the first to crack the tension-filled silence. “Don’t we have other options?”

Soobin hears furtive whispering and nodding from Jake that somehow involves your name and the phrase “that’s right, she’s a girl, yes,” but chooses to ignore it and instead starts dreading the near and impending future. “It’d be better if it’s someone Soobin hyung already knows,” Beomgyu replies. “Hyung, what do you think?”

He thinks this is insane and bonkers and absolutely fucking impossible to pull off because he can’t even look you in the eye without sweating his skin off. How in the fuck he supposed to fake date you? To stand next to you? To call you with so much affection in front of numerous people he finds extremely uncomfortable to be with? To look at you? To h—

Oh god. He doesn’t have to hold your hand, does he?

“Hey, I don’t think this is fair. That’d mean Soobin hyung will technically—”

“This won’t count towards the bet,” Beomgyu says, then looks at a now red-faced Soobin. “You don’t mind right?”

Shit, he’d have to, right? But he can’t even look at you without his palms leaking like a faucet and stuttering like a broken machine. This is insane. He can’t do this. He can’t and won’t do this or else he’d actually have a heart attack and die.

“Hyung?”

“Is— is this all really necessary?” he finally sputters out.

They all look at him. “But we already sent the message.”

Right. They did. Soobin’s face falls defeated and he sinks back into the chair. “I’ll go grab her,” Beomgyu announces, and the gazes shift from him to their friend who has now risen from his seat and is walking back into the house because since when was he close enough with you to do that? You two usually bicker and argue and Soobin has seen the murderous intent in your eyes whenever Beomgyu tries to provoke you. Sure, the amount of daily arguments has definitely died down as of late and it’s mostly one-sided now, but if there’s anyone close enough to disturb your weekend for something stupid, it’d be Jake.

But they say nothing about it and watch as Beomgyu disappears inside and comes back out a minute later with you in tow, pulling you into the patio by the arm you as you grumble and groan, begrudgingly forcing your legs to follow him. “Seriously, what do you want? I was having a nice nap, you bastard. Where are you taking me? Hey, answer me. Are you still mad about the—”

When you finally notice the rest of their presence, you stop complaining.

“What’s this? Are you having a cult meeting?”

Jake greets you with a smile. “Take a seat! We’ll explain everything.”

It’s almost impossible to glean anything coherent when there are five-ish boys talking at the same time, but you seem fine, nodding along to whatever Beomgyu and Jay are currently rambling into both of your years. Soobin grows increasingly worried by the second. “I’m so sorry. You really don’t have to do this.”

He hopes you don’t want to do this. Knowing how you practically terrorized him a few weeks ago for accidentally taking a bite out of your ice cream, you probably didn’t want to deal with him either. Yes. This is good. Soobin can just ignore the group chat and ghost his old classmates on the day of the event, so this is—

“I’m down,” you finally say.

—what?

“You’re— you’re down?” he stutters out. He must have heard wrong, obviously. Haha, there’s no way you would—

“Yup. It’s this Saturday, right? I’m pretty sure I’ll be free, so it’s cool.”

Well, shit.

He’s fucked.

“Why do I feel like you’ve done something like this before?” Beomgyu shoots you a glare of suspicion. You grin. “Of fucking course you have.”

“Sunoo paid me a pretty convincing fee for me to sit pretty at his sister’s wedding,” you explain before shifting your gaze to Soobin, a smile playing on your lips. His fingernails dig into his palms. “Obviously for Soobin, I’ll do it for free. But we have a problem.”

His eyes flit away not even a second after, chest tightening on the spot.

“Yeah. I think we need to work on that.”

Thus begins the series of daily staring contests between the both of you for the next four days until Saturday. It scares the shit out of him when you bang on his door at random times of the day just to torment him with your very existence. Soobin knows you’re doing this to help him. He knows, he really does, but he’s not very good at maintaining eye contact without his heart racing at an unhealthy rate and without sweating profusely. His longest record has been ten and a half seconds before his face explodes like a volcano.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think this is gonna work.”

Soobin’s muffled voice is weak, red face buried into his palms as you both sit cross-legged on his mattress after another failed staring contest. The rows and rows of anime figurines he has displayed next to his bed are all staring at him in disgusting judgment. It’s now Friday. The reunion is tomorrow, and he can’t even look at you— much less pretend like you’ve been dating for the past six fucking months.

“No! You can do it, Soobin! I believe in you! Let’s try one more time, okay?”

You grab his hands, pulling them away from his face and they settle on his soft blankets, yours over his, and he starts silently freaking out because shit— holy shit, you’re squeezing his knuckles. It’s barely any pressure, but he feels it shooting into his throat like a silver snake choking him with ten pints of venom and that’s not even the worst part because you’ve decided to start looking him in the eye again.

He rasps out a little noise and tilts his head down to the right. You do the same. He shifts his gaze to the left. You do the fucking same, chasing after his eyes relentlessly like a god damned predator on the hunt and he can feel his palms sweating pathetically into his blanket while you’re still locking them in place.

“Okay,” you breathe out, leaning back and he finally feels the blood circulating into his fingers. “What if we follow Jay’s suggestion instead and have you wear sunglasses the entire time?”

Honestly, it’s about time you gave up on him.

Your eyebrows are scrunched, deep in thought. Soobin can look at you right now because you’re spacing out and not attacking him with the depth of your stare. He’s not used to attention in general, so something about your pretty eyes with pretty eyelashes and prettily focused expression looking directly at him just renders him completely useless. It’s fine when you’re absentmindedly looking at the posters on his wall, still in the midst of weighing your options. It’s fine because you aren’t focused on him.

“But the event is indoors and in the evening, so that won’t make a lot of sense.” And his composure immediately topples down when you flit your gaze back at him. His breath hitches in his throat. “Soobin, do you have any other ideas?”

He grabs the nearest pillow and squeezes it to his chest. “Do— do we have to do this? Can’t we just show up and leave after ten minutes?” Better yet, he just doesn’t show up at all. But you’ve been putting in so much effort these past few days, so he doesn’t want to cancel out of nowhere.

You frown. “Eye contact is the first step to selling that we’re a real couple! Even if we stay for only ten minutes, they’ll get suspicious if you can’t even look at me,” you tell him. “Soobin, let’s keep trying. C’mon.”

Soobin is trying. He really is trying his best but one more round and he feels he might actually rupture a brain vessel. “Alright,” you exhale. “Nevermind. We’ll handle it somehow. I’ll head back to my room now so you can rest up. See you tomorrow.”

It takes no time for you to get off his bed and start walking to his door. His stomach sinks, watching your back as you reach out for the doorknob and Soobin feels like he had just disappointed you.

He moves before his mind can think. Before he knows it, he’s out of the bed and is holding your wrist and pulling your hand away from the door.

You look at him. He looks at you, drenched in the color of panic and confusion and at the same time a shade of earnest emotion. It stays like this for a good couple of seconds, until your lips curl into a smile and your free arm reaches up to his head, fingers dipping into his hair for a light pat.

“Thirty seconds. Good job. See you tomorrow.”

Now you completely understand why Soobin didn’t want to attend this dumpfest.

The hotel function room is fancy. Truly fancy. But the elegant crystal interiors and decor can’t hide the scent of pretentious obnoxiousness in the air, and the music siphoning through the speakers can’t drown out the sound of shit and crap and trash being exchanged between alleged old friends and classmates. It’s gross. The only saving grace of the night is the wine you’re swirling in your hand, regulating your slowly thinning patience at the scene before you.

“Soobin, buddy! Oh man, I didn’t think you’d make it!”

Here we go again. This is the what— fourth, fifth person? Soobin greets number five with less enthusiasm than the newcomer. He’s already worn out, poor boy. You prepare to intervene when you get an opening.

“Jaeyul,” Soobin says. “Hi.”

“It’s been a while, aye? You look great, man! What’s your glow up secret? You gotta tell men dude.”

Another patronizing comment from a mediocre looking male at best. They’re really lucky Soobin is an angel. You can see the discomfort in his smile when the Jae-something bastard hooks him by the neck, tugging your beanpole down because he’s at least four inches taller than his snotty ex-classmate. He looks even more uncomfortable than the time he got an unsolicited view of your red underwear. If it were you, you would’ve already kneed him in the balls to shut up his endlessly chattering mouth.

The guy’s gaze finally lands on you, tucked quietly behind Soobin’s shoulder. Took him long enough, honestly. You’ve been giving him the nastiest stare you can muster for the past five minutes, it’s honestly amazing that he only noticed now. “Who’s this?” he asks. Now, he’s just blatantly checking out someone else’s (fake) girlfriend. You hold back a scoff, but a sneer manages to slip out.

Soobin straightens, ready to repeat the script he’s been cycling through since the beginning of the night. “O-oh, this— this is—” But he seems to be a lot more nervous now. You decide to take the reins and give him a break.

“I’m his girlfriend,” you give Jae-whatever a smile, stepping forward to hold onto Soobin’s arm, who in return flinches at your touch. “Hi. I hope you don’t mind me intruding on your whole reunion. It’s just that I can’t bear to be apart from my Soobin for too long, you know?”

You’re hoping that your sickeningly sweet tone disgusts the living hell out of him and drives him away, but for some reason he lacks the social awareness to do that. “No, not at all. In fact, completely understand. I’m a taken man myself, you know?” That makes this situation a million times worse. He momentarily shifts away from you and directs his next words to Soobin. “Do you remember Bitna? We started seeing each other a few months ago.”

You can feel him stiffen next to you. “Congrats. I’m happy for both of you.”

“Didn’t you used to have a crush on her? I remember you’d give her chocolates every valentine’s—”

The twitch in his grin doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Alright, enough of this bullshit. You’re done humoring this bastard.

“Oh, sorry!” he turns to you again. “That was tactless of me, oh no. I apologize.”

You press your lips together, still smiling. “It’s fine. I wasn’t really paying attention to the bullshit you’ve been tirelessly spouting. I was wondering when you’d shut your trap and finally fuck off.”

Soobin snaps his head towards you, eyes wide in alarm. His dear old friend looks equally shocked. You hum and maintain your expression, pressing yourself closer to Soobin. “Is Bitna the one looking at us right now? Oh dear.” Shot in the dark, but you hit the mark anyway. “Anyway, if you’ll excuse us. My boyfriend and I will be heading back to our suite now to have absolutely brain-shattering, mind-numbing sex for the rest of the night that you—from the looks of your girlfriend over there— won’t be having for the rest of the week if you’re lucky enough to salvage your relationship. It was nice meeting you!”

You can see Bitna stomping her way over to her boyfriend, carrying a palpable dark force in her wake, so you quickly tug Soobin away by the hand and make your quick exit out the function room and into the elevator. You’re aware of how Soobin is currently looking at you like you’re insane as you press on the lowermost button on the panel. His eyes are practically drilling into the side of your face.

“This— this isn’t the way to our room.”

“I know,” you reply, watching as the doors close in front of you. Jay booked a room to sell your whole schtick a little further, but looks like you won’t be able to use it. “We’re not going to our room. That is unless you actually want to follow through with what I said earlier?”

When you turn to look at him, he’s already drenched in pink. You hold back a laugh. They make it so easy for you to mess with them. “I’m joking. I doubt you’d want to spend a minute longer here, so let’s just dip. These clothes are getting stuffy.”

Somehow you found yourselves at the 7-Eleven outside your subdivision, overdressed and sharing a pint of ice cream and two beers under the empty store’s fluorescent lights. You stuff a spoonful into your mouth and let your gaze linger on him for a while. Soobin has his head down, quietly staring at the top of his beer can. With a face like that, you think he’d be more confident and outspoken, but it’s almost funny how he’s trying to scrunch up his large frame in the tiny seat in front of you.

Look, you’re simply tapping an index finger on the back of his hand and he immediately flinches and draws it back. He’s so shy, so timid that you can’t help but grow soft on him.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says since you left the hotel.

You rest your cheek against your palm. “For what?”

“I mean, it’s just that— you spent the past four days making sure I didn’t mess up our whole act, but I messed it up anyway and we ended up leaving early. I’m sorry for wasting all your time and effort like that. I’m—I’m really sorry for being so hopeless and pathetic and—”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you cut him off. “If there’s anyone that’s pathetic, it’s that Jaeyun? No, Jaeyun is Jake. It’s that Jae-something bastard who’s pathetic. I mean, was he not loved enough as a child? Does he have a disease that makes everything that comes out of his mouth unrecyclable trash? Anyway, if anything, it should be me and the rest of the boys apologizing for forcing you into this. I’ll help you guilt trip them later when we get—”

You stop. You stop because you notice how his eyes are getting a little red, and how they’re getting a little glassy, and how he’s nipping at his bottom lip that you’re afraid it might start bleeding.

“Oh. Oh no. Soobin, please don’t cry.”

And he starts crying. Well, fuck.

You hastily get out of your seat and plop down right next to him, letting his head drop down to your shoulder. He continues sniffling as you switch between rubbing his back and giving him pats on the head, staring blankly at the empty aisles because the last thing you expected to do today is comfort a grown man in a dingy convenience store while you’re in high heels and a strappy dress.

“Let’s have a movie marathon with the boys when we get back, okay?”

At least you’ve gotten better at consoling people. It seems like a useful skill to have for the rest of your stay.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#tomorrow x together x reader #enhypen x reader #txt x reader #choi soobin x reader #soobin x reader #choi soobin scenarios #soobin scenarios #lee heeseung x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #park jongseong x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #park sunghoon x reader #tomorrow x together scenarios #enhypen scenarios #txt scenarios #enha scenarios

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dunmeshi-darlings · 29 days

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eeee i love your writing!!! could i get chilchuck comforting a crying reader (who's normally very bubbly and happy)? Bonus if they're crying bc they think their feelings for chilchuck are unrequited 🫣

Thank you kindly dear anon, i hope your day is going well and that you have rested well and ate well.

Chilchuck was never good with emotions, both his and other peoples. He kept his own emotions hidden so as not to appear vulnerable. And when it came to other peoples emotions he was fine with the positive ones...but quickly became awkward when things turn negative.

In fact he might be the worst (well second worst possibly) when it comes to dealing with emotional issues. So when he walks in and sees you crying he freezes up like a deer caught in the headlights. Its such a foreign sight to him he wasnt even sure if he was seeing it right.

You have always been such a bright cheery person, No matter the situation you were always the one that had the biggest grin across your face telling everyone its going to be ok, to not give up and push on. That was one of the things chilchuck liked about you the most, even if he would talk about how a situation was impossible or that it was to dangerousm you were always the one reassuring him that things were going to be ok. He never said it but it really meant alot to him, usually he would just ignore it or blow it off but he knows deep down it helps him more than he lets on.

He stares at you sobbing, wide eyed for a few moments before quickly making his way over to you. "WOAH woah hey Y/N hey hey its ok! its ok, whats wrong are you hurt?"

He says quickly sitting down beside you putting an arm around you instinctually. He normally isnt one to get physical when it came to comforting people but it was just something he did before he even realized he was doing it.

"Im fine...im just stupid..a stupid stupid idiot...an idiot that should have known better" You said through tears before breaking into sobs again, chilchuck looked around awkwardly before pulling you into him to cry, he sat there patting your back trying to comfort you as best he could. patting your back and repeatedly saying it was ok softly.

Eventually when you finally manage to calm down he wipes away some tears from your face before speaking up. "Now tell me whats going on? what do you mean know beter?" You want to tell him the truth, it had been eating you alive for days and days now. But tonight you realized what the actual truth was, and it was to much and broke you to pieces, it was a truth you had tried to ignore but couldnt and it broke your very being. You dont want to tell anyone about it, let alone him...but you know he wont let you hide away and pretend like this wasnt happening. so you take a deep breath and speak.

"im sorry chilchuck...i know this is going to make you feel awkward...and i know..i know you dont feel the same way.....but i like you, i REALLY like you...i care about you more than anyone else. and i know its stupid and i should just get over it but...it hurts.." you admit to him, not even looking at him, With how you feel right now your sure you wouldnt want him seeing your face right now. He didnt say anything, he only stared wide eyed at you. You should have known this was how he was going to react, you know how he felt about inter group relationships so you know he wouldnt want any part of being with you. However your miserable thoughts were interrupted as he pulled you into a tight hug.

"hey dont talk like that...if there is anyone here thats an idiot its me. I do care about you, I really do. You mean alot more to me than you realize, and you help me stay sane down here." He says squeezing you tight, you sniffle softly as you cant believe what your hearing. "Im not great with emotions...both dealing with other people and my own. Whenever you would be so positive and cheery it would make me genuinely happy, but i didnt want to get to attached so id play it off or something but genuinely you have helped me so much down here. I also have....other reasons on why im so hesitant to show emotions that im not ready to talk about just yet...but i do care about you...in fact i think i might like you the same way you like me. I just struggle being open about things you know? i should have been honest with you and open about my feelings back...that way you wouldnt have to deal with this. Im sorry, But to make it up to you, once we rescue falin and leave the dungeon why dont i take you to dinner?"

You couldnt believe what you were hearing, he had feelings for you to?! you couldnt believe it, you could feel yourself hugging him close as you smiled into his shoulder. "That sounds great, id love to."

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi x reader #chilchuck #chilchuck x reader

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moonssalad · 8 months

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Am I the only one who is disgusted by seeing how many people actually seriously excuse Rhysands fucked up actions?

I have seen so, SO many people talking about how he hid the truth about Feyres pregnancy from her and always excuse it by saying how he didnt want to stress her out 💀. Or that he was looking for a way to save them before he told her, like he shouldve told her right away. And how he told the IC about it before he even told Feyre and told them to keep their mouths shut too and even worse is that they fucking listened to him, like what the fuck?? And how always in discussions about only Rhysand keeping it from Feyre people always start talking about how Madja didnt tell her either, like dude this is a conversation about what an asshole Rhysand is and not about Madja, keep to the topic! And how people hate on Nesta for telling her, like fucking hell. Ive even seen people say that Rhysand not telling her is AS BAD as Nesta telling her to hurt her or whatever. Its just insane, I think I lose braincells every single time I see posts like those 🤯. Feyre literally says throughout the books multiple times how she hates when people choose for her or dont tell her something because they think it would be too much for her and Rhysand literally keeps one of the most important things from Feyre.

Also what the hell was that bullshit about Amren saying how Rhysand should be High King? Hes literally one of the worst options for it. Bro cant even handle 2/3 of his court 💀. And lets so many people suffer in Illyria and Hewn City even though he has had CENTURIES to change something. Honestly none of the IC even try to change something about the Hewn City, like are you seriously telling me that Mor was the only person who was good in that shithole? Whats even more insane is how Mor doesnt change anything about it when she had LIVED THERE for years and now has the power to do it! And Illyria, Cassian seems to be the only one who is actually trying to make it better even though its not really working. Why the hell cant healers heal wings but can heal someone whos guts are basically spilling out?? Hell why the hell doesnt anyone know about c-section? Just insane. What the hell does Rhysand even do for his court? Just sits on his ass and thinks only about Velaris? Because it seems like that.

And am I the only one who was mad how Rhysand chose to show off Feyre as if she was his plaything in the Hewn City. Like yeah yeah keeping up appearances or whatever but how the hell will they see Feyre seriously after that? I think Feyre was in the Hewn City two times and the second was when she was High Lady and Rhysand got her to sit on the throne after the first time he showed her off as his toy. You cannot convince me that the Hewn City residents take Feyre seriously and its all Rhysands fault.

Talking about keeping appearances, the whole 'mask' thing is so stupid. When someone doubts the IC intentions they have the fucking audacity to be mad about it as if they arent the ones who made sure eveyone thought they were all incredibly evil.

I dont even want to start talking about UTM and how fucked up it was.

People always say that he does things like these because he is 'morally grey' but to me hes just a toxic asshole. You dont write a 'morally grey' character and then excuse every fucked up thing he has done, its just not how it works.

Rhysand is literally the worst MMC ever and its insane how so many people say how wonderful he is, how he is the man of their dreams 💀, fucking worried about yall if you seriously think that.

Feyre should take Nesta, Elain and Nyx and get the fuck out of there because they all deserve so much better than this.

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yourstrulyrika · 2 months

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hi um. have a little something simply bc i am feeling up for writing

sub!leon x fem!reader that’s really it. smut no warnings :3 i just love this man to death and yeah. wanna tie him up and this is exactly what i’m writing today. a little shorter than usual me thinks

btw check my next post & help me decide for a theme because i cant decide for shit

it’s hard to get Leon in a mindset where he doesn’t have to think, doesn’t have control every little thing. he’s just so used to it that even when you try to top him, you end up submitting to him instead. it always makes you pout, but that’s just how Leon is.

you finally got him to agree to tie him up, though. it took you a while, but eventually, he agreed. and you couldn’t be happier, really. when Leon is in his submissive mindset, he’s the prettiest thing you can experience, and he’s all yours.

you tie him up, rope around his pecs, arms behind his back. you still give him a bit of freedom by not tying him fully.

pretty, glassy eyes, blush cradling his cheeks, glistening and covered in drool pouty lips— he just looks so beautiful like this. his cock is twitching painfully, he’s squirming all over in the ropes. you stroke him fast, and it makes Leon see stars, mouth hanging open.

he tries to touch, to make you feel good too— tries to latch onto your chest so he can suck. you do let him suck on your breast, simply because you know his oral fixation is insane when he’s like this. and he loves your tits. he wraps his pretty lips around your areola, wide eyes staring up at you. his hair gets messy all over, hips stuttering when you squeeze the head of his dick. he’s extra sensitive when you do that, and combined with everything he’s feeling now, it makes him feel lightheaded.

he never expected the rope making him feel good. it just does things to him, he doesn’t know why. he feels embarrassed almost, shy, but it makes him feel more sensitive. he should be the strong one right? that’s what he thinks, but here he is, under you, losing his damn mind because his chest is tied up. his pecs bulge out, and you tease one of his nipples with your fingers. he moans around your nipple, hard. his chest is sensitive, always have been.

you keep going, the wet sounds of you jerking him off filling the room. you spit on his already weeping length, before pulling away to cup his balls with your mouth and sucking on one of them. Leon whines and moans at the same time. whines because he can’t suck on your chest anymore, but you sucking on his balls makes him feel like on cloud nine.

his cock twitches in your hand, throbs violently, begging for release. you know this, and you decide he does need his release — he deserves it, for being such a good boy. his moans turn into loud whimpers, head throwing back. he doesn’t talk when he’s in this state, he doesn’t even think, his head is empty, filled with the sight of you, full of you. only you can make him feel like this, he feels this safe only around you. he’d never let anyone see this side of him, not if it’s not you.

but he doesn’t have the time or strength to think about it when you’re rubbing his sensitive cock so good. he leaks clear precum, and he trusts his hips for more friction. he’s desperate, you can tell.

you rub his cock faster, pulling your mouth away to replace it with your other hand, cupping his balls. you wrap your lips around one of his nipples, and he arches his back, pearly white cum spurting out of his cockhead. that’s all it took for him to cum, but you don’t stop. you keep going, making him whimper and mewl, overstimulating until it starts to hurt. only then you stop, kissing his forehead and untying him. he’ll return the gesture just so you wait.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #leon kennedy smut

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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Hey! I hope you are better, I waited a while to request this to hope you were better. Take your time writing this, or if you don't feel comfortable that's okay!

I wanted to request a Kinger and Caine x reader in the sense of lovers, whose y/n is deaf

I imagine that maybe they were already deaf before entering the digital world, or it just ended up having a problem when they put on the headset and ended up not hearing anything there. Either way, they would be the embodiment of calm and would speak in sign language

Caine and Kinger x deaf!reader !

yahoo going to write this request then take a break n do the things i gotta do today!! gotta make a coffee cake for someone!

CAINE:

i think i might have said this somewhere before but caine is actually pre programmed to know a bunch of different languages! i dont think it would be too far of a stretch to assume he also knows sign language, or at least enough to communicate with you! if theres anything he doesnt know hes more than willing to sit down with you to learn, plus that just means more bonding!

obviously, caine constantly signs his adorations to you whenever he gets the chance! asides from that there isnt much different than how he would be with a non deaf partner; he still absolutely showers you in love and affection!

should anyone ever be rude to you or say something horrible hes going to be real pissed; fiercely defends you as well as possibly making the next IHA hell for that person.. though thankfully, i dont think anyone in the main cast would go out of their way to be an asshole to you

yes that includes jax, i may write him to be a huge butthole but i dont think he would target you for your deafness, you know?

KINGER:

in contrast to caine, i dont think kinger knows any sign language! so youre going to have to teach him if you guys want to learn to communicate efficiently that works for you; in the mean time while hes mastering sign language you guys may have to speak through writing </3 but trust me thats ditched the second kinger knows enough!

good news, too, kinger is a quick and devoted learner, so hes going to be hooked on your lessons until its over; hell he would let you teach him everything in one sitting if you wanted to!

practices a lot in his pillow fort, probably also practices signing nicknames for you, and i think thats sweet... tries to practice his signs so he can tell you how much he loves you... i think caine would do this too, but kinger holds a timid-ness that i cant quite put down into words, you know?

if theres a library type area in the circus that happens to have a book on sign language you know damn well kinger is going to check it out... alas, i dont think the circus would have such a thing... maybe.. i mean it has a bunch of weird rooms so is it really outside the realm of possibility?

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #kinger x reader #caine x reader

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neteyamslovrr · 1 year

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hey love, i just wanted to tell you how AMAZING you are at writing and i would inject all of your works into my veins if i could 😩🙏🙏 and i was wondering if you could pls do numbers 18 + 24 with neteyam for your 2k event(congrats!!💕🥳)

DATE NIGHT

hi lovely thanku sm for your kind words!! for context i changed the wording of prompt 18 slightly so it made more sense in the context. hope u enjoy lovelies!!

Every week you and Neteyam would designate a night to yourselves. Where there was no worries about the sky people or the burdens of leadership. It was just two souls loving each other, breathing in the company of the other.

Today was that day. You were looking forward to it dearly as your morning was swamped with taking care of the injured, collecting herbs and creating more medicine for the Tsa’hik. All you wanted was to lay in the strong arms of your beloved while listening to his heartbeat.

So as dusk approached, and you were starting to pack up your things you heard the familiar steps of your mate. Looking up you saw his smiling face, happy to see you after such a long day his strong arms took you in for a tight embrace. “I missed you today beautiful.” His ran his hands up and down your back, squeezing you tight as he felt the tension in his body leave him.

“I missed you more.” You mumbled into his skin, pressing light kisses to his collarbone. “Are we going out tonight ‘Teyam?” His body stiffened under your touch, his happy smile turning in a disappointed frown.

“Dad just told me that there’s intel of sky-people transporting weapons, we would’ve planned for it better, but we only just got the news. I think we’ll have to move tonight.” He was disappointed, he didn’t like to cancel on you, especially when you were the only one he wanted to be with.

You nodded, you couldn’t argue with him. You lived in war, this was life. But you cant help but be disappointed, you looked forward to being with him tonight. “Well, you be safe okay? I always need you to come back to me.” Neteyam smiled, giving you a soft kiss on the lips, fingers grazing your hips.

“I always will.” You gave him one last kiss before he went to his ikran. With a sigh you finished packing up your stuff.

You had taken the liberty to walk towards the river, bioluminescent lily pads decorating the water as you kicked your feet in the cool water.

The anxiety that took over you whenever Neteyam was involved in the war was gut-wrenching. Worries that he wouldn’t make it back to you was enough to make you feel as if you could cry until your tears suffocated you.

The river was always a calm place for you, the soft stream of the water, the sounds of the wildlife around you, the comforting smell of the flora. It was bliss to you. The only thing that would make it better would be for your mate to share the bliss with you.

However, that bliss left quickly as you heard a rustle in the bushes behind you. Ears perked up, knife ready to be used as you left the river crouching in a hostile position.

But it was no danger as the sound revealed itself. It was your beloved, Neteyam. “Be calm it is just me.” He put his hands up as you put your knife back your sheath.

“Do not scare me like that!” You gave him a light push, as he chuckled nodding. “Why are you here? Should you not be with Jake? Did you cancel plans for me?” Neteyam nodded, his hand coming up to brush the stray hairs out of your face.

“I wouldn’t say cancel, but it was not a mission where I was needed so father let me go. So I could spend the night with my beautiful girl.” You pulled him into a tight hug, rocking him side to side as joy took over you. Happy that you got to have your date night with him.

“I am so glad you’re here yawne, how mad would you be if I kissed you?” Neteyam gave you a confused look.

“Why would I ever be mad to be kissed by you?”

“I am just happy you’re here, my brain is malfunctioning.” Neteyam smiled down at you, how could anyone be this precious.

“You’re a skxwang.”

“Hey!”

“A pretty skxwang!” Neteyam laughed bringing you closer to his body, so your chests touched. Leaning down to enclose your lips in a kiss, sharing the love and care to you towards the connection of your bodies. “Would my pretty girl like to go for a swim tonight?”

“Of course I would, my handsome boy.”

tags: @8resa @ilovejakesullysdick @neteyamsblog @live-laugh-neteyam @reyalvr @trashfox

thankyou sm for reading!!

#neteyam #neteyam oneshot #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader #avatar2oneshot #avatar #avatar2 #avatar the way of water #neteyam fluff #neteyam angst #neteyamcomfort #neteyam imagine #neteyam headcanons #neteyam sully #jake sully #lo'ak #avatar imagine #avatar oneshot

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tautowrites · 3 months

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Captive: a Zoro x Sanji fanfic!

When Sanji is captured and used by bait by a distanced rival (I made an OC for this please bear with me here), Zoro comes swiftly to the rescue. Inspired by That Scene From Dr. Who and also this tiktok (WITH GORGEOUS ART YOU SHOULD GO SEND YOUR LOVE TO) where I commented I would write an inspired fic and then over 80 people gave me the encouragement to keep writing it!!

Warnings: some talks of food deprivation / sedating so he cant fight so drugging / being held prisoner of course

Long so I will put it under here!! pls let me know if you like it

Cell walls can start to feel like an islet if you close your eyes for long enough, the only thing that was missing for Sanji was the sound of waves and the occasional mist in the face. It was hard not to think about then in the now, when he couldn’t tell for his own life how many days it had been. Trapped on the other side of a dense door, what an unbreakable beast it had been when he tried first to kick it down, surrounded by equally infuriating walls.

When footsteps finally echoed in the hall, something inside him had the nerve to hope it was someone, anyone. Every moment of the door opening etched into his skull, turning of locks and clicking of mechanisms that kept the door set in frame. He had half the mind to tackle whoever opened the door, potential of it being crew or not, but he found no energy to move. Of course, it couldn’t be as simple as a savior, Sanji had to be faced with the unpleasant uniform of the guards.

Each and every one of them with elegant armor and a gorgeous helmet to tie everything together. The one that opened the door had an annoyingly heavy gait, Sanji felt something in his stomach churn at the sound of the figures clanking boots.

“Still above talking to your prisoners, les flics,” Sanji spit at the guard in front of him, the newest one he spotted behind the first. He watched the doorway clear as the first guard stepped aside, letting the other in.

The rough agent of Sanji’s mistreatment wasted no time binding his legs and arms, making sure he would be useless on the off chance that he mustered up the strength to fight. Ruthless bastards hadn't fed him in days, why were they rubbing it in his face that he should have some kick in him still? Did they think that he could still hold through it? Had anyone cared to listen last time he was here anyway, to remember how much it would hurt him in the first place, or were they just being assholes for the sake of it?

Sanji truthfully didn’t know exactly who had captured him, assuming it was his family that kidnapped him just gave him something to hate, which gave him something to stay awake and think about, which… well, he was alive, it worked, that was what mattered, right? Not the ever-looming possibility that it could be one of his brothers or sisters under those helms, that his father had redecorated the palace, brought him back in another attempt to reunite the family. Again.

The guards wouldn’t give a response, dragging him down the hallway past empty cell after empty cell, each the same as the one he’d been in. When his mind started wondering about why no prisoners seemed left alive, the floor seemed much more interesting than anything else. It didn’t look like something his father would have installed, which was only partially a relief.

It was a delicate pattern of stones, multicolored, hideous really. Shortly after the doorway it turned into steps, which had wooden flooring at the top of it. He hadn’t paid any attention to it before, being dragged in entirely unconscious of course, but now he could tell it certainly wasn't anything that his family would stand living in.

Too small, too cramped in, which meant almost worse- a bounty hunter.

“Well, if it isn’t Black Leg,” A voice called up ahead, shadowy and eerie, coated in utter mischief, “Sanji, such a pleasure to host you here.”

He didn’t recognize the sound, or the face that emitted the noise, Sanji wasn’t in charge of keeping up with faces. Just recipes, taking care of the kitchen, he couldn’t stop thinking about a skillet and a smoke.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” The stranger spoke again, rising from a seat adorned with what looked like a bunch of sticks, different colors and patterns on each of them, with strips of fabric or rope on some.

“Why should I talk to you,” He hated when his voice sounded this hoarse. Sanji had to bargain to take care of it, despite his deepest desires to avoid the conversation, “What’s in it for me?”

“An invitation to a bit of a celebration. One of my very own,” That sounded like an easy solution. He wondered what else was in store, “You’ll have to get cleaned up and dressed, of course. I’ll provide you clothing to suit the occasion.”

If Sanji hated rich idiots, he hated people who pretended to be rich idiots even more. This place was nothing more than a massive house bordering on the idea of a mansion, with eclectic decorations and copy-paste guards lining the walls, holding him by the arms still.

“Fine,” Sanji caved at the very idea of food and drink, not even the promise or direct implication of it. Only the hope it would be something, anything. “Whatever the hell you want.”

-----

After being brought to a side room, Sanji was briefly released by the guards and untied so he could struggle to get in a suit that had been prepared for him. The thing was scratchy, he could hardly stand it, but his nose could not mistake the distant smell of searing meat and vegetables, it was all that got him to stay on his feet.

The guards soon tugged him along to a dining room, a bit more to Sanji’s standards- surprisingly- than the rest of the place. He was glad to be left free, if only for a moment. Soon enough the guards were back at it, tying just his legs this time to the chair itself. Fair enough, he supposed.

“Food’s almost out,” The man across the table spoke, Sanji could see him a little more clearly, in a dapper suit much like the one Sanji was wearing. Behind him were rows of… swords. Strange enough, but Sanji had seen stranger collections among pirates.

As if upon cue, the same fucking guards again came out with massive plate after plate of food. Sanji would’ve died if he wasn’t so determined to live to taste some of it. He immediately began to eat when his plate landed in front of him, prompting a guard to pull his hands back.

“Wait- wait,” The man with the grating voice spoke, Sanji had already swallowed a few cooked baby carrots, chewed haphazardly enough they were a bit sharp to swallow, but his stomach thanked him. Sanji glared, the man began again, “You need to at least wait for our guest to arrive! But you have been hungry, haven’t you?”

“What’s your problem?” The guards let go of Sanji’s hands at a signal, just as he had spoken. He immediately went back to his food, not giving this man an ounce of table manners, “You pick me up, you lock me in a room, what the hell did I do to you?”

Laughter pierced the air, and Sanji almost dropped his mutton, but he was better than that. Every ounce of food he got into him was a relief like no other, even if freedom felt ultimately useless to hope for at this point. The man spoke, “Not to me, not exactly, but to your dear dear Red-Leg.”

That was enough to get him to drop his food. He’d shoveled enough into his stomach fast enough anyway, a well-developed skill. He stared daggers, the seat wouldn't budge as much as he tried, “Don’t bring him up, you don’t even know-”

“Do I?” He slammed into the table with his hands, fury, unimaginable, “Do I not know Zeff, Sanji, working on his crew and trying to be his favorite next to you-”

A silence fell upon the room. Sanji looked closer, blinking, looking down at the food and recalling a million offhand comments to the cycles of people that came to work at Zeff’s. But to be this personal, it had to be early, right?

It clicked, Sanji screamed out, “Pareil!”

“Took you look enough,” There was venom in the phrase, no warmth at the recognition, “You steal his favor from me, you steal my future, you destroyed him.”

Pareil had been close to Zeff as a captain, not a ship chef. The food he made always came out the same every time no matter how much criticism he received. He always talked about how much he wanted to go back to sailing around, not sitting in the same spot and cooking, offered to be captain since he was one of the few old crew that stuck around. Sanji always felt the resentment, but never thought on it, never thought it would lead here.

The words had settled too close with Sanji as well, hurt too truthfully. He went on and off feeling Zeff’s retirement to be his fault. Now was certainly one of those ‘on’ moments, if it hadn’t already been. Faced with a former crew member of the man himself, Sanji could only find comfort in that common ground.

“He’d be disappointed in you for this,” He hummed, unable to keep himself from disturbing the peaceful air. Sanji wasn’t the civil sort, not for suckers like this. “You’d be getting a kick in the head.”

“Shut the hell up,” Pareil snapped, not seeming insulted as much as he was just completely fed up with Sanji’s presence, so why would he still be keeping this charade going? He kept speaking, Sanji hoped for answers, “You leaving The Baratie was the best thing you did, I thought you would finally be out of my head, Sanji, you know that?”

He stayed quiet. For all it mattered, he felt like it would bring those answers.

“I stayed, I thought you being gone would make Zeff snap out of it and stop playing papa,” Pareil was making Sanji’s blood simmer, “But he just kept up with the cooking, named a menu item after you- that's around when I left at least.”

Sanji wanted to rip out of the chair, but those bindings, whatever they were made of held him steady, or maybe the food had been compromised to weaken him. It didn’t matter, did it?

“You’re my new target, Sanji,” It didn’t feel hard to assume, but the solidification of the fact made the air feel so cold. Pareil sounded even more frigid somehow, “I want to ruin you like you ruined me, simple as that. Won’t even kill you!”

“What the fuck,” Sanji couldn’t manage much more, really. His head hurt, his brain was spinning in a million directions, and everything inside of him wanted to scream for help that wouldn’t hear him.

Pareil stood up, the wall’s decorative swords and the sticks adorning the chair in the main room- not sticks, sheaths- Sanji wouldn’t have taken pride in putting the dots together even if he had, “I can’t believe I have to spell it out for you. Roronoa Zoro, the acclaimed swordsman you tote around. Are you not the one that Zoro would risk life and limb for?”

Sanji had to scoff, something that covered him from recognizing a shuffling in the background, somewhere behind him. He stared at his own captor, dumbfounded, “You’re using me as bait, for Zoro? You would’ve had a better chance laying out a good meal and sake, thinking Zoro has any interest in saving my ass, idiot you are-”

“Are you not the man that loves him?” The nerve to interrupt, Sanji was fuming and yet nothing could fully free him from his seat, he obviously wasn’t supposed to be able to leave this. Pareil truly thought it would work, and he sounded like it too, the strange smile he wore tainting his voice, “Surely-”

“Me love him? Sure as that smug look on your fucking face,” He wished he could shut up, but it was a problem of who knows how long of pouring a lot of love into every meal of Zoro’s. He always seemed to enjoy it more, or maybe Sanji learned to enjoy him. He scoffed, half affectionate, rest stubborn as ever, “You’ll have to get rid of whoever told you he loved me back, though, he’s gonna be the greatest swordsman in the world, and you think you can beat him, you think you can even get him here using me?”

It was Pareil’s turn to fall silent, looking through Sanji like glass. He still seemed to be hearing everything. Even if he wasn’t, Sanji needed to say everything that was pouring from him.

“Zoro doesn’t waste time being in love with nobody, you think he’d get distracted with the shipcook you fucking idiot? Sure you’re right, if you could kill him you would take the stars from my goddamn night sky,” His face was red from yelling, he could feel it, but there was still more bubbling out of his chest, “You don’t love a man grander than all the seas and expect him to give you the time of the day, but if you think someone as petty as you- if you think he’s so fucking small to love me back?”

One of the guards had come to restrain his hands again, something in Sanji didn’t feel the need to fight them, to listen to what the normally speechless guards said, just to keep yelling.

“He’d never get that lost about me, the crew would drag him into it and he’d destroy every one of you, but he would never love me back and that’s fine-” There was a metal clank, the guard's hands were gone, he’d been tugged out the chair’s bindings- now sliced expertly. He recognized the cutwork.

The sight of Zoro’s face hit the nail on the head, Sanji had been spun around- best so he wouldn’t see Pareil’s look of utter self-satisfaction- and it was Zoro gripping each of his arms. “Sanji.. Hey lovecook.”

“You,” He could’ve cried. Could have. But he didn’t want Zoro to see. Or Pareil for that matter. “Why are you here! You stupid mossball-”

“I think you know,” Zoro put Sanji aside, preparing a sword in each hand, the man had become so lightning fast with drawing and redrawing those swords. Sanji couldn’t help but appreciate it.

It seemed the food had something in it, given that Sanji felt powerless to fight alongside Zoro, forced to sit back and watch the whole fight unfold without contributing a single second. It bothered him in too many ways, all sorts of unfair prodding at his inadequacies on top of watching Zoro prove him right and perform excellently in a battle of blades. Pareil was, as Sanji expected, short work, and his guards stood much of the same level of difficulty. Soon enough Zoro was back in front of him, offering a hand to help him up, unable to look him directly in the eye.

Sanji took the hand, stood, and spoke, “You could’ve let me handle it. I would have gotten myself out of that eventually.”

“You’re lucky you can stand, I tried to get you not to eat any of that shit,” Zoro mumbled, pulling a satchel from his bag that smelled distinctly like rice and fish. Sanji was handed one of Zoro’s very own hand made onigiri. A bite of it revealed leftover fish that Sanji had prepared roughly a week ago, a day before capture.

Having a bit of a time frame and a snack he could trust, Sanji still couldn’t shut up, “You need to forget everything you heard, by the way. All of it was probably because of the poisoned food or something.”

Zoro didn’t seem able to respond for a moment, looking at Sanji dumbfounded. “It was stupid of you to trust the food. You could’ve been killed. You’re lucky it wasn’t poison; it was a sedative.”

“Sedative? I don’t feel sedated,” Maybe not enough to stop bickering about, but Sanji had begun slouching against his companion, in denial as he ever would remain in any situation of weakness. “I feel ready to start preparing dinner for the crew, what is Luffy craving?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Zoro sighed, tossing Sanji over his shoulder with a surprising lack of protest, stepping over body by unconscious body. “Back to the boat, a nap, and then we’ll talk.”

A nap sounded good, too good. Maybe Sanji could let his worries of appearance fall away for a moment, just to be at rest in Zoro’s arm, even if it meant dangling uncomfortably over his shoulder. There was something nice about it.

-----

Soft linen on a mattress can remind a man of the inside of his suits, the way that he sewed them together himself and brought them to his fellow cooks, proud smiles and youthful eyes. He would repair every cook’s jacket from that point on, not because he asked to, but because they would ask him. Truth is, Sanji loved mending things, just as much as he loved cooking.

He’d woken up with the sun, found Zoro’s pants from the previous day, and begun sewing small rips in the fabric throughout the morning. The swordsman was asleep on a chair, no surprise, Sanji knew well not to bicker about when and where the man could catch rest.

It was sweet to realize Zoro gave him the space of the bed, that he stayed by Sanji’s side overnight. How could he not feel some way about it? Every stitch tied up his heart with it, Zoro’s pants just needed to be mended, that was all, right? Nothing else, never anything else.

Sanji’s mind burned as the other slept next to him. He needed answers, he’d fallen asleep propped over the man’s shoulder, he could only remember how well the scuffle went, brutal but quick, admirable. He was so focused on finishing up the last stitch that he didn’t notice Zoro rise from slumber to observe the room.

“Sanji,” It was particularly forward, Zoro saying his name, it always sounded so much different than the little nicknames they’d created for one another. Sanji’s head snapped to look over, Zoro kept speaking, “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” Sanji was a few moments from being convinced Zoro was ignoring what had happened, everything said.

The silence hung.

Zoro spoke again, “Did you mean everything?”

Sanji felt stiff, creaking wood alongside the seat he perched on, “I- I did, yes.”

“You made it sound like I’d be a failure if I loved you back.”

He hadn’t thought of it that way, he just didn’t think Zoro would get distracted by love.

“Do you think I’m that shoddy at what I do, that you would distract me?”

Sanji felt his chest cave in. Just for a moment. Just until a hand was on his face, calloused but so gentle.

“You may have caught me up here and there, but Sanji,” Zoro wouldn’t let their eye contact break now that he’d made the connection. He looked like he was holding one of his precious things, worth keeping from getting scathed, worried over Sanji’s exhausted features from capture, “Ever since I fell in love with you, I have found something more than pride to fight for, I will never give up my goal, but that must not mean giving up you.”

He couldn’t get a single word out, not for any lack of space to speak but the sheer inability to muster a sound. Sanji could feel his voice grappling with his tongue, his mouth refusing to move, his eyes watering, pouring, he was crying. In front of Zoro, too, how awful. How sweet the hands that wiped away the tears, patient the man they belonged to, waiting for Sanji to come back to reality.

“You mean it?” Finally, words came from the cook, feeling more useless than ever in such a strange way.

Zoro laughed, smiled, and pressed a kiss to his forehead, his tearstained cheeks, kissed him with the fire of a man who didn’t know how to get I love you to dance off his lips, just how to wrangle a hand into someone’s hair and breathe them in. How long had passed? A minute? An hour? Sanji could’ve gone for days, weeks, but Zoro had to break away to breathe, “That a good answer?”

Again, useless, red-faced, Sanji was lost in adoration, dripped into his voice with a sweet and simple, “That- That works, yeah.”

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece oc #pareil my skrimbo #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #im sorry if the bs excuse of a rivalry makes no sense i just liked the drama of it all

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project-sekai-facts · 5 months

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Sorry if this spoils you um... TSUKASA FOCUS!! What are your thoughts on what might happen? Based on the event description and then bunny plush being w tsukasa in the untrained.. im inclined to think because he's been cast as a minor role, he's kind of. like. What if i cant cause many smiles because of where i am.. and then meikos like you silly goose. you're the brightest star in someones universe and the bunny is there to remind him . AUGHH. AUGH

dw daichan already spoiled it on the stream last month lmao. Oh this event looks so interesting and frankly!! it's perfect for tsukasa's character arc!!! sorry about the excess of exclamation marks i'm excited about the possibility that people might finally understand him after this event and finally free me from writing analysis posts about him haha.

him being a minor part is literally what he needs to improve his acting. he's always either the lead or a major character, taking a step back is like another slap of realism for him and honestly, it might even be better for him than the challenges he's faced before when he struggled with lead roles. because he can't always be the lead, that just isn't a possibility. no matter how good an actor is they will not be the lead in everything they star in. he's pushed his limits to get lead roles before (Torpe, Rio, also the secondary lead Bartlett), so i think approaching a minor role is going to be a whole new experience for him.

I'm especially interested in the fact he's tasked with making the character feel real because we all know what that means: some good old fashioned Tsukasa unpacking his emotions. we don't know yet exactly what this minor character is doing, so i can't really make any guesses as to what is meant to feel real about it since we don't know their motivations and conflicts yet, but i get the feeling it will play into the fact that Tsukasa got the minor role, like how Rio played into his weaknesses and Torpe connected to his younger self.

As I said, Tsukasa is pretty much always the lead or some significant role. In this scenario as well when what he’s trying to do is improve his acting, such a minor role could feel like nothing. I think those feelings (be it annoyance or disappointment or whatever it may be in the story) are somehow going to play a part in how he has to make such a minor character feel real.

Also I think one of the aspects Tsukasa struggles with most is understanding the characters he plays. With Torpe he couldn’t relate to him and therefore struggled to play the role because he couldn’t get his head around how the character should act. With Rio he struggled too, and tried to replicate some of the character’s struggles in real life to help him try and get into the mindset of the character. But those two were MCs, a minor character with three lines is a whole different story because they don’t have an arc. However, all characters in a good story will have some sort of motive and you will be able to tell what that is from only a few lines. Good dialogue should be able to tell you a lot about a character. I think that’s what Tsukasa is going to learn in this event. Minor characters are not irrelevant even if they don’t contribute to any major plot points. All the characters in the world of that story are real people with individual lives and thoughts and feelings.

And to steer this away from me talking too much about screenwriting I think a minor role as you pointed out could be a hit to his desire to make people smile. Because who cares about a character with three lines? The hero makes people smile, not a forgettable background guy. The forgettable background guy won’t mean anything to anyone, he won’t make anyone smile, and he’s not a star.

Also the preview and title I think will play into these insecurities and lessons. He can’t be the lead every time, he can’t always be the big star of the show. However he can make a small role into a highlight, and even if he isn’t the frontman, there will always be people who will view him as the star of the show regardless, like Saki (Usa-chan) and WxS, and he can at least make them smile.

#just as a afterword I’m almost never correct about event story predictions #asks #mod talks #speculation

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muzanswaifu · 6 months

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Ive seen a lot of people confuse me leaving for “people being mean to writers” or getting hate for the things i write of how i write them but its not

But Im not leaving just bc of the audience, i can handle some hate and honestly it was kinda fun from them bc ik that hate comes from jealousy and trolling

Im leaving because of other writers and my “friends”

Ik i said i would get into it and i really dont want to all that much bcuz im tired and just wanna be done with this but it feels wrong to leave under a false assumption and let people think their actions dont have consequences

Ive dealt with a lot from my peers on here, back talking, hating, straight up bullying, and i just cant anymore

I cant deal with drama irl AND on the internet, bcuz at the end of the day i can just delete everything on here and be done with it all so thats wat im gonna do

Tbh this has been building up for a while, i can only handle so much from “friends” and irl i cut people off pretty quick and on here should be no exception but ive fucked up and let people do watever too long and its bitten me in the ass

Yes ik im dramatic lol, ive gotten that a lot and a lot of people hate me for, a lot of people love me for it, its how i am and it keeps things interesting. I get it, i like to make a lot of call out posts. Y? Bc people deserve to be called out and idgaf ab appearances on here. If someone did something bad, im gonna call them out bc last i checked its my blog and i can do wat i want. If u wouldnt do it, thats fine, its ur decision, and this is mine

Yes, i dont post a lot, I. Am. Busy. I have work. I have school. I have a social life. I cant write smut all the time even tho i want to, and at the end of the day, its not my job to write smut all day so people can read it and move on. I like to interact with yall, its fun, i like to talk to a lot of different people on her since my irl friends arent really into anime. Apparently people think im a loser for that? Ok? Sorry i like to talk to people on the internet when im bored instead of producing smut all day for people to read, ig i shouldve remembered im only on here to provide content since i dont deserve to have some fun, my mistake

Requests? Requests r a generosity. So many of my requesters have been absolute angels with being patient in receiving their requests, happy to just see me writing or interacting at all. Others have hounded me regularly telling me im lazy and selfish for not completing my requests, saying im an asshole for not completing them over my own projects bc “they asked first”. LMAO, U WRITE IT THEN???? i dont owe anything to anyone, certainly not someone who comes here solely to read my fics, not even leaving any interaction or encouragement whatsoever, then leave.

The icing on the cake? The tip of the iceburg? Discord of all places. Im sorry some of u didnt enjoy my server, i really am. Ive never used discord before and me and the mods did the best we could and im sorry i couldnt be as attentive to it due to my busy schedule

Im sorry i couldnt get there in time to stop conflicts or just straight up call people out, and im sorry someone had to make another server since they didnt like how i was handling mine bc i didnt take their side in a fight that THEY WERE WRONG IN? But i tried to be nice, tried to defend her and nicely explain y she was she cant say anything they want in any situation bc people get hurt. but it didnt matter. Y? Bc apparently i cant tell people what they can and cant say…

And that made me realize something! Theyre right! Theyre absolutely right and im so stupid for not seeing it until now! I cant stop people from saying things to me. I cant stop people from talking shit ab me. I cant stop people from even saying things on my own blog and server! I just cant. Bcuz in the end, people r gonna say what they want and do what they want bc people dont wanna learn. They dont wanna talk. They dont wanna hear ab how what they do or say affects others. They just wanna do what the want when the want, and they wanna be allowed to, bc fuck everybody else. Everybody is the victim in their own story, and i deserve to be the victim in mine.

And what would a victim do in this situation?

Leave.

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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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